#If you read this far into the tags... let me give you some juicy lines from the next chapter since you seem to enjoy Apostrophe spoilers:

[lialox]

Wish I could tell my readers that having two very distinct genres clashing in one story is both a major narrative tool and vital foreshadowing in the context of metafiction.

And I can! In about 30k more words.

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 5: Scared of a Little Lightning

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: With the threat of Bolt rising, so do tensions within the base.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 6.3k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, supervillains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, and also with fists, they fight in this one okay, swearing, hella tension and anger issues, arguing, angry Namjoon (yes that is a warning). it's just a tense chapter😅

a/n: oH I am EXCITED for this chapter!!! It's a juicy one if I say so myself😌I am begging you to come chat with me about it, things are heating up!! Be it an ask, comments, tags, hearing from you guys about this series is an absolute joy so far and it's making me giddy posting each week wondering what you guys will think👀thank you so much, that's a great feeling! I hope you enjoy reading the chapter as much as I did writing it!💜

Whatever Jungkook thought of you staying, you couldn’t care less.

While he glared, you ignored him and instead enjoyed the new additions to your routine. In fact, though you wouldn’t admit it, it gave you a bit of pleasure to know he was gritting his teeth as you continued as part of their lives.

However, he still had his chance to make your life a misery. He had taken to actively antagonising you rather than straight-up ignoring you as he had previously in training.

That was what it felt like, at least, when he was yelling “faster!” into your ear as you fired bolts as rapidly as you could muster. It was never good enough for him.

It only got worse when he took to flinging the targets around your training space with a well-aimed jet of gold. That kind of precision and strength was something you could barely hope to achieve with your powers. Even trying to hit the targets in the air was beyond you, let alone being able to actually throw one, as Jungkook did with such ease.

Though in some ways it was refreshing to have a different training routine, in most other respects it was anything but.

Anyone else could be forgiven for thinking he was simply trying to push you now that you were in line to join their team, but you knew better. The smirks that occupied his face when you failed gave it away. You tried desperately not to give him that satisfaction, but eventually you always lost out to exhaustion, leaving him triumphant.

On the contrary, physical training which you now had to take part in, was welcome relief.

Usually Hoseok was the one training with you, which you were ecstatic about. Of course, he was mainly needed to show you the ropes in the beginning, and once you understood how to use all the gym equipment, you could more or less do it yourself. But he was in there anyway a lot of the time, and you were more than happy with the way he would chat away as you worked out side by side. It felt nice to spend time with someone who actually wanted you there – who would help, or play stupid games with you, or drag you into doing pairs exercises that would never go right, normally ending with you in a hysterical tangle on the floor.

His powers being what they were, however, it was a little discouraging sometimes. You would be red-faced and ready to give up while he still had enough breath in him to gush enthusiastically about the latest band that took his interest, all while doing pull-ups.

But then Yoongi would appear (out of nowhere, as always) and grumble along with you, making fun of his ‘over-active’ brother while Hope laughed loudly.

Spending even more time in the training areas made you feel like this place was really alive. It was completely different to anywhere you had lived before, solely because you weren’t alone.

Jin had taken you directly to your old place the day after you had accepted Namjoon’s offer. It had hardly crossed your mind, so you were surprised to see it as you had left it. Apparently Kuyang had been covering the rent for you.

It must not have been much of a strain for him, you thought, standing in the doorway of your place and thinking of his laboratory in a skyscraper. The two hole-in-the-wall rooms that made up your apartment were a far cry from anywhere in the centre of town. You were almost embarrassed for Jin to follow you in there, but then he was pushing past to drop several empty boxes on the worn carpet and apologising that your new room wouldn’t be so big.

“That’s hardly the same thing,” you snorted, taking the first box through to your bedroom, “have you seen your kitchen?”

Looking over to your sorry excuse for a kitchen, Jin couldn’t argue. He half-grimaced.

“Who really needs an oven in this day and age anyway?” he tried.

Rolling your eyes with a snort, you pulled open your wardrobe and set to packing.

Halfway through, several indistinguishable shouts bled through the ceiling. What startled you was that you almost didn’t notice it, used to it as you had been.

Jin had stopped, and stared at you in alarm, but you just chuckled and told him that was how it was, living on top of other families.

In the end, you didn’t use all of the boxes. You looked around, just in case, for something you would never miss. It hadn’t taken much to empty the place of all trace of you, though you left the fridge well alone, not daring to discover the state of what you had left.

You dropped your keys on the table and left the silence behind.

Back home, there was always sound, activity. During your water breaks or after training, you would see the others training too. It felt like you were all in it together. Even with the knowledge that you could barely compare to the skill the boys had with their respective powers, you reminded yourself that they wanted you on the team.

Well, most of them did.

But you would keep working and improving. You would get there.

Jimin finally returned to training again too, after a few days where he hardly left V’s side. Seeing his boyfriend so hurt had certainly brought out Jimin’s protective side, even more than normal. It was honestly quite endearing – that was until you had passed Jimin in the training room, hurling his weights through the air with such ferocity you were surprised it didn’t dent the walls.

Hurrying past, you had decided to leave him to it. After so long being strong for his boyfriend, he certainly needed that.

The pink glow of his eyes shouldn’t be such an intimidating sight, but you knew you didn’t want to get in the way of him.

With Jimin downstairs, you found V in the living room. He had been steadily recovering, quicker than someone without powers would have done, but still you knew he had been instructed to take it easy.

A quick shower later, you were less out of breath, but still weary from a day of hard work.

Next time you returned, V was in the kitchen. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but you didn’t want him to be up for too long. Ignoring your desire to sink into the nearest chair, you walked over.

“Need help with anything?”

V didn’t look around at you, but shook his head as he reached up to a cupboard.

Not wanting to push, you slid into a chair at the counter. You were unable to resist resting your head on one hand, but you fought to keep your eyes open so you could check on V.

Somewhere along the way, you failed at your intention. A new set of footsteps entering the space disturbed you as you had been dozing lightly, but the moment you caught yourself, your eyes were flying open.

With your tired state, you couldn’t even bring yourself to shoot a glare at Jungkook, who was walking up to the counter. You only gathered the energy to avoid his eyes entirely.

Jungkook appeared to have the same idea, walking past without acknowledging you. But as he drew level with V, the older boy turned away and crossed to the counter where you sat.

Lifting your head from your hand, you blinked as V walked right up to you. The next moment, he was pushing a steaming mug of tea right under your nose.

Opening your mouth, your tired brain couldn’t formulate words, but conjured a similar image from when you had made him tea the first time you spoke. You still regretted accidentally setting him off then, unintentionally letting your powers go.

Perhaps you were forgiven?

“Thank you,” you spoke quietly, meeting V’s eyes. You couldn’t decipher his expression, but he was watching you, and smiled lightly when you replied.

As he turned and walked back over to the sofa, your eyes landed on Jungkook, who still stood across from you. For a long moment, he held your gaze with a poker face. Then his eyes fell to the mug cradled between your hands, a frown darting across his expression.

Swallowing, you waited for whatever venomous comment he had prepared for you, to warn you away from V. Even after you had helped treat V’s wound, Jungkook had been opposed to you being near his injured brother.

He turned away without a word.

A crash echoed through the empty rooms.

Staring as the sparks jittered across the surface of the battered target, you dropped your arms to your sides. The training area was deserted aside from you, and you waited until you could no longer hear the crash faintly ricocheting from the walls.

Eyes still trained on the target, you panted, chest heaving.

Though you were training alone today, you could practically hear Jungkook telling you not to give in. Who knew all those insults would become motivational?

Whether it was motivation or the fear of falling behind, it succeeded.

Exhausted as you were from your training, you decided to make the most of your unsupervised session and try one more thing. Locking your trembling arm straight ahead, you took a breath and let your powers fill you up until that familiar blue burst from your palms.

But instead of aiming short bursts at the various different targets positioned around the space, you gritted your teeth and held it, lightning spilling in a continuous blue bolt towards the central target.

You had no idea how to do this, but it had always impressed you when Jungkook could lift things with his powers. All you had been taught to do was shoot. Still, you took a breath when you felt confident that your power was flowing strongly, focussing on the metal disc.

The way the sparks ensnared the target gave you assurance as you slowly raised your arm.

You felt a resistance you had never felt before as the electricity lifted, tugging at the target. It felt that you were connected to it somehow.

Tensing, you focussed intently, loading more power into the bolts already shooting through the air. Maintaining the motion of your arm, you gaped as you saw the circular metal raise along with the blue power dragging it.

You had done it! You were lifting it, it was moving-

Like a switch had been flipped, the flow of power cut off, the bright blue that dominated the space fading. The moment your powers retreated, you found yourself gasping, a wave of fatigue near enough sweeping you away.

Your knees hit the floor as the same time as the target. Wincing at the harsh metal clattering loudly on the floor, you screwed your eyes shut for a moment. Your chest continued to heave, and you noticed the sheen of sweat that had broken onto your forehead.

But once your breathing steadied again, you laughed.

The next moment, you let out a loud whoop, flopping flat onto the floor.

You had managed something new! Laughter continued to shake you as you caught your breath on the floor. Jungkook didn’t have to teach you everything – it seemed you could manage to strive forwards by yourself, even if you weren’t good enough in his eyes.

It took you a while to get up. Not even the thought of Jungkook’s nagging could have motivated you to do another iota of training.

About all you could manage was to drag yourself upstairs for food, but the smile never left your face.

Lunch was a simple sandwich. Already thinking forward to your session in the gym this afternoon, you couldn’t be bothered to make anything more demanding.

You still made two plates, however, leaving the other out for whenever V was hungry. Today the others had gone out, but with him still healing, he couldn’t go with them like normal.

You had heard Jin scolding him to make him stay, though; it seemed he felt well enough already to want to go out again.

This time, you didn’t particularly mind their absence. There was no sense of secrecy, no need to for you to turn on the news while you wondered what they were up to. As the soon-to-be newest addition to the team, you had been present to hear all the details.

Of course, given the way things went last time they returned from a job, there was an undeniable edge of nerves.

But it was an easy mission. That was what they had said, and what you kept reminding yourself.

They were concerned that Bolt had been showing interest in a lab on the western edge of the city, and wanted to protect it. Yoongi and Hope had been watching it for a while Jin and Namjoon did some digging around Bolt, and whatever his intentions may be. The latter seemed to have found frustratingly little, but didn’t let the mystery of Bolt stop them from acting.

The whole group was focussed on keeping the lab safe. Since the developer was one of their allies, they had all the details they needed to be one step ahead if Bolt should attack, which they highly expected.

Although you had kept your mouth shut at the meeting, not wanting to cause problems by irritating Jungkook when the team needed him, you had enjoyed the experience. For once, you didn’t feel particularly out of your depth. Having been Kuyang’s secretary for a while, you were well used to looking at plans such as the one of this lab, which you had pretty much memorised. The fighting and the powers, you were still working on. But at least you could understand the logistical side of their job.

After lunch, you lounged in the empty living space for perhaps a little too long. But with no one around to judge you, you let your tired limbs rest for a bit.

When you eventually made it off the sofa, you passed V in the hall. You noticed the small black receiver clutched in his hand; the boys had decided that keeping him in the loop while they were out on the mission would ease his nerves a bit.

“Any news?” you asked him, nodding at it.

V turned his dark eyes on you, then glanced at the receiver before he sighed.

He shook his head.

You had to admit you shared his disappointment, but you forced a smile to your face nonetheless.

“Well, no news is good news, right?”

Your smile seemed to be for nothing, as his eyes never lifted high enough to look at your face. Instead he gave a noncommittal shrug.

“I, uh, made you a sandwich,” you told him, “make sure to eat, and don’t worry too much, yeah?”

Walking down to the training rooms again, you felt the sadly familiar desire to do more creeping in. You never would have thought that after gaining the ability to shoot lightning, you could ever feel so powerless.

Nothing would happen to them.

You had seen their plan, it was so detailed.

There was no way Bolt would be able to outsmart them.

As you started training, these thoughts revolved around your mind in time with your steps on the treadmill. By the time you were using the machines, gritting your teeth as you pushed the weights with all your might, you weren’t sure if your mantras were helping.

They would come back…

Reaching the peak of a sit-up, you let out a groan.

There were six of them out there, Bolt was outnumbered…

Were you certain? Or were you repeating these thoughts just to convince yourself?

Finishing your set, you slumped back to the floor and stared up at the plain ceiling. This space was tucked in the corner of the gym, and you felt sheltered by the machines that blocked you from view, even though you were alone.

Breathing deeply, you brought a hand up to massage your brow. As you tried to ease the pressure, you closed your eyes.

In the darkness behind your eyelids, a light seemed to bloom. Blue, all too familiar, dancing over a face you had seen just once in the flesh but would never forget. A bright flash had your eyes flying open again, heart hammering as it expected the drop from who knows how many floors up-

Your heavy breathing fell alone in the silence.

Swallowing back the memories of Bolt, you tried to push back the fear that was curling tighter around your stomach at the thought of your friends out there with him.

You had just pushed yourself gently to sit when a sharp clang sounded, along with a muffled yell, making your head whip around to its source.

One positive thing was that you didn’t have to worry about the boys being out any more. But there were new concerns on your mind as you saw Jungkook storming into the gym. A muscle in his jaw popped as he ripped his jacket off forcefully, casting it to the floor as he stalked to one of the machines.

You watched him with wide eyes, stunned by his entrance. He hadn’t seen you yet.

His whole body seemed fraught with tension as he stood, back facing you, eyeing a machine. Fists clenched at his side, his shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breathing.

Just when you thought he was going to stand still all day, he aimed a harsh kick at the base of the machine, another clang ringing through the space.

That startled you into action, springing to your feet. While you walked between machines back to the centre of the room, he had grasped the bars and started pushing them, grunting as the weights lifted and fell, clashing against the others.

Stopping a few paces away, you stayed silent for a moment. The frustration emanating from him, the intimidating muscles revealed by his vest, all made you wary of him.

Pulling yourself together, you took a breath. Why should you let him scare you?

“Jungkook.”

He froze. His arms were together in front of him, the machine’s weights hovering as he held them there.

With a huff of air, he dropped his head between his shoulders. Slowly, he turned his head towards you slightly.

“What happened?” you asked, refusing to be deterred by his challenging sideye, “is everyone okay?”

Biting at the inside of his cheek, he turned his glare away from you, aiming it instead at the floor. When he spoke, his voice was low and deadly, restrained as if he would burst if he didn’t control his tone.

“We fucking lost half the place.”

“But everyone’s back? Then it’s okay-”

Metal clanging loudly together made you jolt, unable to help yourself from taking a step back when Jungkook let the weights drop and strode across the space between you.

“We should have had the upper hand! We did everything we planned, but Bolt still…” his nostrils flared as he took a breath, “we had to blow half of it up, just so he wouldn’t get to it.”

Sighing heavily, he turned away from you, shoving a hand through his hair.

Frowning slightly, you watched the frustrated man. Of course you were glad everyone was safe, but the fact they had lost the lab felt like a blow, even to you.

“How…?” you spoke quietly, but it only seemed to rile him up.

Whirling back to face you, his eyes blazed.

“He’s too strong. We let him get too far already. If you think you’re gonna help us at all out there, you’re wrong.” He stepped slowly towards you as he spat his words, “we can’t do enough against him, you’ll only slow us down.”

He stopped, glaring down at you now you were practically nose to nose. Your own anger bubbled within you – why did he bring you into this? His lashing out at you was uncalled for.

“I’m joining you guys because Namjoon wants my help,” you shot back, “or do you not trust him? I’ll be ready, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, eyes narrowing, poisonous stare intensifying, but you refused to back away. Scowling, his mouth opened to retort-

“Hey! Y/N?”

Jungkook’s mouth snapped closed, the same moment you turned your back on him to find Jin and Yoongi standing in the doorway.

Stepping into the gym, Jin looked past you to Jungkook, fixing him with a stare.

“Time to back off, Kook.”

At first, you were pleased to have someone else see how irrational Jungkook was acting towards you. But then Jin turned to you.

“I think you ought to go upstairs.”

Giving you a tight smile, Jin moved past you towards Jungkook, leaving you stunned.

“Just let him cool off.”

Slightly jumpy, you looked around to find Yoongi right beside you. Raising an eyebrow, he waited for you to come away.

Sighing, but biting your tongue, you set off. Yoongi fell into step beside you as you left. With one last look back, you saw Jin leaning against the machine where Jungkook had now resumed his rage workout, talking too low for you to hear.

As you emerged into the main training space, Hope was just coming from the stairs. His pace was rapid, but slowed when he saw you, seeming to deflate.

“Everything alright?” he jogged up to you and took a place on your other side.

“I just don’t get what his problem is,” you confessed, irritation bleeding into your words. “He turns everything on me somehow.”

The boys either side of you shared a glance.

“He’s just frustrated, but he’ll come around. This thing with Bolt is a bit more serious than we anticipated,” Yoongi explained.

Taking a moment to process his words, you swallowed back the continuing anger you felt towards Jungkook. You knew why he was upset, it just didn’t make it any easier to take.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you cursed, shaking your head, “is everyone okay? I wasn’t even thinking about all that after Jungkook…”

“Yeah,” Hoseok nodded, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “We’ll figure it out. Just because today didn’t go so well, doesn’t mean we can’t win next time.”

“But how was your training?” Yoongi moved on, “I’m surprised you made it to the gym without Hobi to bully you-”

“Hey!” Hobi exclaimed, “Y/N’s a great student. She’s working hard. You’ll be able to join us soon at this rate.”

He directed this last at you, nudging you with his elbow. But his bright smile no longer struck the same confidence in you. Instead, you felt Jungkook’s words take root inside you.

“I just hope I can be useful…” you muttered.

“You have nothing to worry about.”

It may well have been the first time Hoseok didn’t manage to alleviate you worries, even slightly. When you got upstairs, it was to find Namjoon had disappeared to his office already, Jimin clearly faking a smile for V and near silence as Jin and Jungkook remained downstairs.

Even Hobi, trying to bring your mind away from Jungkook, had a downtrodden slope to his shoulders.

That night, you did nothing but contribute to the despondent quiet in the house.

These men had so much more experience than you did, and yet they were unable to save the lab from Bolt’s clutches. How were you going to help them?

But you knew one thing for sure: you had to.

It was with renewed determination that you headed down to train the next morning.

You arrived a little before Jungkook, depositing a towel and water bottle by the wall as he entered behind you.

“Still here?” he asked dryly, crossing the space to lean against the wall.

Straightening up, you rolled your eyes.

“What does it look like?”

“Looks like you’re naïve enough to think you’re going to be any help.”

Gritting your teeth at his retort, you restrained yourself from insulting him in return.

“Let’s just start training, shall we?” you bit out.

Clearly some of your attitude had bled through, however, because Jungkook pushed off the wall and marched towards you. His dark eyebrows drew together.

“What for?” he spat, “you can barely handle the training room, what makes you think you’ll be any good out there-”

“That’s what training is for,” you countered, unable to help your voice rising.

“I have more important things to focus on than YOU!” his voice raised in return, “you’ll never be ready.”

And with that, he shook his head, starting to walk away from you. For a second, you could only gape in outrage at his back as he stormed away. But he only made it a few paces before you recovered yourself, stepping forwards.

“I am ready!”

Your hands balled at your sides as he froze in place. You remembered the power that ran through them, your success in training yesterday. Jungkook was done underestimating you.

He spun to face you.

“Prove it.”

Not a second after his words, a slice of gold cut through the air, straight towards you.

Ducking out of the way, you whirled around again to find Jungkook advancing towards you, lopsided smirk on his face and gold light whirling in his irises. This time, you reacted when he raised an arm, blue racing to meet his gold in the air and colliding in a shower of sparks.

Feeling the thrum of electricity in your veins, you felt stronger. You stepped forwards, meeting his eyes in challenge. He thought you were too weak? That you would give up?

Jungkook threw his arm to the side, severing the beam of light that connected you, but instantly fired another bolt which you leapt aside from. The next moment, you recoiled, intercepted by a second streak of lightning cutting through your path.

You were driven back into the path of one more blast as it shot through the air, forcing you to fling yourself to the ground as sparks ripped overhead.

“Please,” Jungkook let out a scoff, “I could beat you with my hands behind my back.”

You had already jumped to your feet, lifting your palms.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Blue erupted towards him then, his own trick used against him as two beams of light penned him in, one either side.

Quirking an eyebrow, Jungkook aimed his palm to the ground, to your surprise. The next moment saw him pushing off the ground, boosted by a jet of gold as he vaulted over your attack. Reacting quickly, you shot towards him again as he was still a blur in the air.

Gold blazed to meet it, an explosion of embers as they collided. You felt Jungkook throw the attack off, sending you stumbling as your lightning collided with a resounding clash against a pile of metal targets that were stacked by the wall.

To your satisfaction, though, the clearing sparks revealed the man staggering up from the floor. It seemed you weren’t so incapable as he thought.

“Still think I’m not ready?” you called, laughter lining your voice.

Jungkook said nothing, drawing himself to his full height and looking around.

Gold light streaked towards the side of the room then, sending a shape flying towards you.

You ducked, the target clanging against the wall behind you. But more were already coming your way, Jungkook rapidly firing more gold through the air.

Undeterred, you didn’t hesitate to fire back, knocking the targets from the air with well-aimed blows of your own. The room filled with flashes of light, blue against gold, fuelled by the two of you throwing everything you had.

But your powers began to slip, reluctant to work so quickly. You could feel yourself tiring, and it was a matter of seconds before you missed, too sluggish to catch one target that shot your way.

It caught your arm, hard, pulling you off balance. You stumbled, one knee hitting the floor as you steadied yourself. Instinctively, the other arm covered your head, waiting for more blows.

But nothing came.

Panting hard, you looked around.

Jungkook stood tall opposite you, the epitome of power as strength filled his form and flowed from his fingertips. His eyes shone with an identical light. Two more targets were suspended in the air by sustained gold beams. He kept them hovering there. Taunting you.

“Like I said,” he growled, “not ready. And if I can do this, it means Bolt can.”

Face burning in humiliation, you pushed yourself to stand.

“What are you so scared of?” you spat, “if you’re so powerful, how come you’re afraid of one man?”

“Don’t you dare-” he began, but you cut him off.

“No!” you yelled over him, “you’re the weak one! You just can’t admit you need me out there because you’re scared of a little lightning.”

In the blink of an eye, the targets dropped from the air, clashing deafeningly against the ground as Jungkook chose to charge at you himself. His teeth were bared as he ran forwards, grabbing you and sending the both of you to the floor.

Jungkook was strong, to say the least. You couldn’t escape his weight that pinned you down, no matter if you thrashed.

His face was so close to you, breathing almost as heavily as you. As you met his blazing eyes, you saw the gold glow fading, darkness taking over.

Gritting your teeth, you pushed back at him, letting your power flow from your hands. Using powers had seemingly slipped his mind; he didn’t see your attack coming, and you successfully sent him reeling, your blow of lightning throwing him off you.

But he found his feet at the same time you did, and scrambled towards you again.

A fist flew towards you, and you countered it with a blast of blue.

Instead of retaliating again, he stumbled back. A smirk crept over your face. Something had got to him; you had riled him up.

“Something wrong?” you asked innocently.

Big mistake.

Maybe Jungkook hadn’t been thrown. Maybe he had just been recharging.

Because now he was advancing again, and his fists were surrounded by gold sparks, that same gold glowering from his eyes once more. You could only match his power for so long. You weren’t as fast as him, and every blow you deflected only made way for another to follow the next instant.

Stumbling backwards, away from him, the back of your leg collided with a bench, and you fell back, heart hammering in panic.

You never met the ground. A fist found your shirt and you were being slammed against the wall instead.

Feet flailing, you called on the last embers of your powers to push back, but Jungkook captured your hand with his free one. He pinned it against the wall, where your sparks danced together in an impossible wrestle.

Meanwhile, his other hand which forced you against the wall didn’t let up, digging more harshly into your throat as you faltered.

Gasping and struggling fruitlessly against him, you stared into the molten gold of his eyes as he pressed his face closer to you.

“You know nothing,” he hissed, “you’ll never be ready-”

“JUNGKOOK!”

A cacophony of voices suddenly swelled, joined by hurried footsteps.

The pressure on your throat was gone then, and you met the ground at last. But your feet couldn’t hold you up, and you crashed to the ground choking on the air that was finally forcing its way to your lungs.

Blinking, you looked up. The first thing you saw was pink, Jimin coming into focus beside you. Concern filled his eyes as your gasping continued, a hand falling onto your shoulder.

But you avoided his eyes in favour of finding what had become of Jungkook.

A few paces away, more of the boys were huddled, still jostling as Jungkook tried to escape. Hoseok was behind him, unrelenting grip on the younger’s arms stopping him from going anywhere. Even though you both knew Hope was the strongest of you all, that wasn’t stopping Jungkook from trying. Gold still bounced off the walls, blinding flashes shooting between, but missing, the members who barely seemed phased by his outbursts.

You couldn’t get a good glimpse of your rival though. He was eclipsed by Jin, who was trying to steady him by the shoulders, speaking quickly and sternly to the incensed man.

On his other side, Yoongi had a hand on his chest, pushing him back and further away from you.

Just then, another set of footsteps, not frantic like the others, made you look around. And even though his gaze travelled first to Jungkook, you couldn’t help but feel your veins freeze with dread.

Namjoon looked furious.

He marched in, V scurrying at his heels. At the sight of his leader, Jungkook seemed to finally ease up a bit, the scuffle quietening down.

A silence seemed to settle over the room, Jungkook’s last struggles dying away as Namjoon cast his eyes around everyone. A faint red haze flitted across his eyes and the lights in the room flickered perilously.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

It was the only time you had felt something close to solidarity with Jungkook. When you looked at each other, you could tell he gulped just like you.

“I thought this was going well,” he shook his head slightly. Your heart sank.

Raising his eyes to meet Jungkook’s again, he took a couple of steps towards the younger while the room held its breath. The lights turned red for a split second, then dimmed again, retreating as if they were equally afraid of the imposing leader.

“I don’t know what you were thinking. You’re supposed to be helping her, and this is how you go about that? You could have killed her! Is this your way of showing you can be trusted?!”

Namjoon never quite raised his voice enough to yell. But still you winced at the anger laced into his tone, and the arm he threw out towards you as he ranted.

Part of you stung anew after he said Jungkook could have killed you. You wanted to protest, hurt swelling within you at the insinuation that you were still too weak – but you pushed it down. The ghost of pain that lingered where Jungkook had struck you reminded you that he was right, as much as it shamed you to admit it, even to yourself.

Jungkook looked down, not able to keep eye contact with his enraged leader.

Sucking in his cheeks, Namjoon took a breath. But you certainly weren’t breathing. You could only hang on for whatever he said next, and the way he cast his eyes between the two of you didn’t instil much hope.

He fixed his eyes on you next.

“I told you I expected you to be able to trust us, including Jungkook. It’s clear you haven’t been able to do that yet. I’m sorry.”

Though he didn’t speak with as much fury, his sadness almost made you feel worse. You wished he would yell at you, give you something to push back against as Jungkook did.

But all you were left with was a punch to the gut more painful than anything the tempestuous younger boy could deliver.

His next words only made it worse.

“I’m keeping you back here until I’m sure you’re ready. I wanted you active as soon as possible, but not like this.”

Although his stern gaze lingered for a moment longer, you barely reacted. His words didn’t feel real. You could only stare blankly at him while the shock reeled through you.

When he turned away, you caught Jungkook’s eye. The satisfied glint you found there made your hands ball into fists.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon sighed now, pinching his nose, “same goes for you.”

At first, you weren’t sure you had heard him right.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one. Jungkook’s eyes widened in horror, straining against Hobi for another brief moment.

“What-?”

“I can’t have you acting like this while your head needs to be in the game, now more than ever. You’ll be staying behind until you show me you can be trusted with each other.”

Unlike with you, Namjoon fixed his dongsaeng with a hard stare, challenging him in some unspoken conversation until he seemed satisfied.

Turning to leave, Namjoon’s gaze fell on you again. His eyes softened, travelled to Jimin.

“Take her upstairs.”

With that, he stalked from the room. Light bled into the room again, but no one moved until he disappeared from the doorway, almost certainly returning to his office.

V stayed behind this time, and now moved towards you. Jimin’s hand on your arm shifted so he could help tug you up to stand. Though you may have stumbled a little, you were sure you could walk fine.

Still, you were grateful for Jimin’s hovering grip on your arm and V’s presence on your other side as they led you to the door.

Reaching the edge of the room, you glanced back at Jungkook. Your aim was to send the most venomous look you could, and it seemed his was the same. Still penned in by the others, who were corralling him away to the corner, he shot you a glare as he shrugged off Hope’s grip in an aggravated movement.

His scowl left your sight as you left the training room, but it stayed imprinted on your memory.

Thank you for reading!! I can't wait to hear what you think of the chapter!👀💜

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[writinggremlin]

Self Intro V. 2.0

Almost done with the updated masterlist let's gooooo poggies babagaboosh!!! In the meantime, here's a little bit about me (again)!

You may call me Gremlin (The Soup Hoarder Keeper works too). My pronouns are she/they, with no preference between them. You can stick with she/her, you can stick with they/them, or you can casually change it every other sentence, I don't care. Hell, if you're feeling extra zesty, you can even change them out mid-sentence too. "She decided that she was going to eat their lunch at the park today." Are you still talking about the same person, or somebody else entirely? Who knows! (Tip: The more cursed you can make it, the more bonus points you can get!) For the minor dni blogs, my current life level is 20. If that's all you've come here for, then have a nice day! My current hobbies include: writing (ofc), daydreaming about what I'm going to write, reading (but not my own writing, that's guaranteed to make me cringe /j), going on walks that are way too long, going on bike rides that are way too long (this was written before The Incident (TM)), going to the library, and... existing?? I guess??? Life is my favorite hobby!! :D!!

Tropes I Enjoy:

Delirium/Half-Conscious/Dazed

Mind Control/Hypnosis/Brainwashing (I guess you could say that I tend to... lose my mind over this stuff!) (No. I'm not getting rid of this pun. You can't make me. Fuck you *runs away*)

Drugged/Spiked

Sick/Fever

Fainting (Get some of that myoclonic jerking in there too and you immediately have my full undivided attention)

Hypoxia (Those hypoxia simulation chambers that are typically used to train pilots. Give. Me.)

Just about anything that involves a Whumpee's mind going blank, numb, and quiet. That is the feral soup.)

Lab Whump (Still a little tricky to write, but we're improving)

Starvation/Restrictive Eating Disorders (I feel that it is important to note that this blog is not centered around this topic, and that I support and encourage recovery from such an ordeal. If you are recovering then first off, I am proud of you, second, please be careful browsing my blog and following me, as I may post triggering content from time to time. I will be sure to tag appropriately, but I still advise that caution be used here. Feel free to block me if need be. Thank you.)

Pushed to the limit, and then some. Doesn't matter who's pushing who.

Tropes I Don't So Much Enjoy:

I don't really have anything in terms of triggers, but there are still some topics that I don't exactly feel comfortable reading and writing.

Sexual Non-Con (I just feel squeamish reading it. Gives the heebie jeebies)

Oddly Specific/Unorthodox Gore (Yanking teeth, scooping eyeballs, pulling out entire finger/toe nails, etc. Anything along those lines also heebies my jeebies)

I tend to stay away from kink in general, especially in sickfic and emeto. I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with kink stuff, I have no qualms about it existing. I'll support you guys from the sidelines, and even maybe rb a kink fic if it hits the right notes. But overall, kink just isn't really my thing; it's not really what I come here for, y'know? YKINMKATO 👍 (thumbs up)

Well, now that I've made you read this far, it's time for me to hit you with the juicy juice. I have OCs. I have many OCs. You might've already noticed this, but if you didn't, now you know. I also have a couple different original realms/dimensions too. One is a cluster of floating islands in the void, and the other is a liminal space. No-- not that liminal space -- though the Backrooms is a cannon place here -- but this liminal space doesn't have an uncanny feeling about it at all, sorry to disappoint. It's a liminal space in the fact that it's a space between universes; a nexus, a bridge, a crossroads. Which universes does it connect to? Well... I don't want to spill everything right off the bat here! Guess you'll just have to wait and see for yourself. Anygay, I will be writing with these characters and occasionally use those settings, but be aware that any plot and development will most likely be shown through blurbs and bits, and not a central series. Well, at least for now. There might be a thing or two currently in the works teehee.

Check out my OC Information post for more information regarding the gang! (Currently bare bones scaffolding. You'll probably learn more about them from checking their post tags, which are linked in the info post. I infodump in the tags a lot lmao)

If you have any questions about the characters, the universe, or even for me myself, feel free to send in an ask!! Asking me to infodump is fully welcomed and wanted here, I swear my day will be made. So don't be shy, I don't bite! Kage and Ember probably would though, so be sure to wear your padded gloves around those two.

And I think that's about it! I can't wait to show you all my favorite pathetic lil wet fucks! Hopefully you'll become just as excited about them as I've been! Until then, I'll be seeing you around! Thanks for reading all of this, and I hope you have a lovely day/night/life! Stay safe!!

[tchallasbabymama]

Don't Forget About Us

Hello, my lovelies. Here’s my contribution to @nahimjustfeelingit-writes smut challenge (the prompt is in bold!) Let’s see what Erik’s up to now, shall we?

Don’t forget to check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots. Your comments and reblogs mean the world to me, so make sure to let me know what you think! And let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my writing. Enjoy😘

Word count: 5,595

CW: smut...duh.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

Kayla sighed internally at the question and took a sip of her Pinot Grigio. She hated first dates with a burning passion, but unfortunately, that was the only way to find a man around here. She went through the motions of politely answering his questions, barely asking any of her own. She didn’t care. Even just fifteen minutes in, Kayla could tell he didn’t excite her, and she lamented the waste of a good outfit as she listened to him drone on about his life. Every now and then, he’d stop and ask a question about her, but she could tell he was only asking so he could talk more about himself.

How many siblings do you have?

What’s your sign?

Why did your last relationship end?

Her mind traveled to her ex-boyfriend, Erik Stevens. They had spent six blissful years together, and Kayla thought he was the one. She wanted them to get married and start a family, and she thought he did, too, but every time she brought it up, he’d find some excuse to change the subject. At thirty years old, Kayla wasn’t getting any younger, so she grew tired of his avoidance and eventually cut him loose. She needed more out of life, but the guy currently sitting across from her certainly wasn’t it.

“We wanted different things,” she answered vaguely and took another sip. It would be a long night with what’s-his-name. David? Devon? Whatever. At least he had money and took her to a nice restaurant.

Darryl took the opportunity to bore her with the details of his job, which Kayla already knew. He was a colleague of her best friend, Carina’s husband. They worked at the same law firm, and Carina decided to hook them up after tiring of hearing Kayla complain about dating apps. As much as Kayla hated Tinder, she would’ve much rather been at home on her couch swiping left on the cesspool of single men Oakland had to offer. Every few dozen swipes or so, she’d find a cutie, but his bio would be abysmal, or his conversation skills would fall flat.

Despite the fact that their relationship just couldn’t make it, Kayla still thought of Erik as the gold standard. Just thinking about his dimples and his struggle beard made her smile dreamily. His big, strong arms would wrap around her and hold her tight at night, and she’d trace her fingers over the intentionally placed keloid scars that held his darkest secrets. She missed retwisting his locs and the way he always smelled like sandalwood and warm vanilla. Kayla didn’t want to admit it, but she still loved him. No man could compare to her Erik.

“Hello? Kayla?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Can you repeat that last part?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. What’s got you so distracted, babygirl?”

Kayla fought the bile rising in her throat. She wasn’t his babygirl. It didn’t even sound right coming from his mouth. Maybe it was the thinness of his lips. They weren’t “white man” thin, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the juicy pussy pleasers she had grown accustomed to.

“Nothing, just thought I saw somebody I know. You were saying?”

“Just that you look beautiful tonight,” Damon attempted to flirt with her.

Kayla wanted to roll her eyes but thanked him instead and smiled politely again. Of course she looked beautiful; she had pulled out all the stops for what she had hoped would be a good night out. Kayla had squeezed her thickness into a lavender satin dress. The way the dress’s skirt cinched on the side kept it snug around her plush waist, but the high slit that traveled up her thigh was the main attraction. The strappy silver heels on her feet showed off her matching pedicure that contrasted beautifully with her glistening brown skin, and her makeup was flawless. Her outerwear for the night, a cropped fur jacket that had found its way to the coat check when they arrived, was the icing on the cake. Her outfit deserved the appreciation, just not from Deshawn.

The waiter saved her from having to focus on her date when she brought out the food they had ordered. Since Kayla knew Derek had money, she had ordered the whole lobster, and she fought her mouth from drooling too much as the waiter set it down in front of her. It laid on a bed of forbidden rice, and the side of roasted brussels sprouts and cremini mushrooms looked heavenly. The ramekin of drawn butter off to the side tempted her as it sat next to the minuscule seafood fork. She may not enjoy her company for the evening, but Kayla damn sure was going to enjoy her meal.

“Looks good,” Dominic called from the other side of the table, breaking Kayla from her trance as he cut into his wagyu beef.

“Sure does.” Kayla wasted no time before digging into her meal. Not only was it the perfect excuse to avoid conversation, but it was perfect, period.

A slight chill permeated the air as the door swung open and the crisp January air entered the small restaurant. Kayla shivered as she complained internally about being forced to sit near the door, but that shiver intensified as she heard a voice. His voice.

“Reservation for Stevens, please.”

Kayla stilled.

“Of course. Right this way, sir,” the maitre d’ responded, and Kayla heard three sets of footsteps coming her way.

--------

“Babe, let’s go!”

“Yell at me one more time, woman,” Erik warned as he came around the corner into the living room, fastening his watch.

“I swear, you take more time getting ready than I do.”

“Whatever, Mo. You ready?”

“Nigga, I been ready!”

Erik rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys. It would be a rough night, and things were already starting off on a bad foot. He and Monique had been seeing each other for the better part of a year, and he’d finally reached his limit. She was overbearing, rude, and just after him for his money, but he hated being alone, so he put up with her bullshit. His cousin, T’Challa, had tried to hook him up with a few ladies back in Wakanda when he went to visit after his breakup, but nothing stuck. Almost immediately after coming back to the states, Erik met Monique at a charity event for the Outreach Center. She had the singing voice of an angel and had been booked as the entertainment for the evening. Erik was drawn to her like a sailor to a siren, and she immediately sank her teeth into him. Past her vocal talents, Monique wasn’t really anything special. Her personality left a lot to be desired, she wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, and she just wasn’t her.

The moment Kayla ended their relationship a year ago, Erik’s whole world shattered. He had lived a life full of pain and loss, but Kayla had been his lifeline. She pulled him out of the dark and made him revel in the sunshine. Hell, she was the sunshine, but now he had settled for a UV lamp at best. Kayla had wanted a life that Erik was too scared to give her, but that fear became his downfall. He still missed her most nights. He was lonely, and Monique was there to keep him company, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore. Erik craved a connection that Monique just couldn’t provide. So he decided he had to break it off and figured that doing so in a public place would probably be best. She had a tendency to throw things when she got angry.

The car ride to Chez Martine was tense. Monique had been angry all day because Erik had taken back his credit card even though she wanted to buy a new dress for their date. Her lousy mood almost made him dump her back at his condo, but Erik kept a cool head and stayed focused on the plan. He ignored the way Monique complained the entire time she got ready, reluctantly putting on a dress he had seen her wear before. It didn’t matter to him; he knew what the night held.

When they walked into the restaurant, Erik’s heart dropped into his stomach. He’d recognize that shoulder blade tattoo anywhere. She had cut off all her hair and lost a few pounds, but he knew for sure that he was looking at Kayla. His Kayla. He forced himself to look straight ahead as they passed her table and prayed that the maitre d’ didn’t sit them where she could see him. Unfortunately, he had no such luck because the only open table for two was directly within her line of sight. He prayed again that Monique would sit on the far side of the table, but Bast ignored his pleas once more. He had to sit facing her, and as soon as he got comfortable in his chair, her gaze slyly trailed over to him. They locked eyes across the room, and Erik’s heart stopped. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her all those months ago, but who the fuck was that sitting across from her?

“What are you looking at?” Monique’s abrasive voice cut through his eardrums.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone I know, that’s all.”

She cut her eyes at him and turned around to look as he buried his face in the menu.

“Quit being nosy,” he complained.

“I just wanna see who’s got your attention, that’s all.” Monique turned back around with a sour look on her face. “It’s probably that fat girl with her cleavage all out.”

“Mo, just look at the fucking menu and act like you got some sense.”

“Fine.”

Monique pouted until the waiter showed up, but she plastered a fake smile on her face as he took their order. As usual, she ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, and it bothered him to no end that she was hellbent on spending all of his money. Of course, he had plenty, but she felt entitled to it. Kayla never cared about him being rich. Hell, when they got together, she didn’t even know he was a prince, but he loved to spoil her nonetheless. He loved the look on her face when he’d buy her things or take her on the expensive trips that she more than deserved. Kayla appreciated everything he did for her with all her heart, but she’d say the same thing every time.

“Thank you, baby, but you’re all I need.”

Erik smiled fondly at the memory of when he bought her a diamond tennis bracelet from Wakanda for their second anniversary. She was so excited to have diamonds that weren’t marred by exploited labor that she damn near dropped the box when she saw what was inside. It had been a rough year for them, what with him disappearing for a couple of months to seize the Wakandan throne and all. She certainly had plenty of colorful words for him when he came back. He’ll never forget the look on her face when he showed up at her door. He had brought T’Challa for backup just in case, but she looked right past the king as tears welled up in her eyes at seeing her Erik, alive and well.

Erik’s eyes started to get misty as he thought about the way she kissed him with so much emotion...then slapped him across the face for leaving. His gaze wandered back over to Kayla and he noticed the light bounce off of something on her arm. She was wearing the bracelet.

As if she felt his glare, Kayla shifted uncomfortably in her seat, so he averted his eyes back to Monique, who had caught him staring again.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” she asked sarcastically, making him roll his eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

--------

Erik Stevens. Here, of all places. He just had to be here.

Kayla noticed that he didn’t seem to be enjoying his modelesque date’s company any more than she was enjoying Darwin’s, and the pang of jealousy she felt at seeing him with another woman went away. She knew she had no right to feel any kind of way about it, especially since she was the one that broke things off. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

Dylan was too wrapped up in his steak to notice her wandering eye, but it seemed that Erik’s food was as uninteresting as the woman across from him. Kayla watched as he half-heartedly pushed it around his plate, but he certainly kept his favorite whiskey coming. She wanted to chuckle but didn’t want Daniel to think he had anything to do with her levity. They were both drowning their dissatisfactions in their alcohols of choice, and Kayla got a phantom taste of Uncle Nearest 1856 on her lips as she watched him take a sip. When he set the glass down and licked his lips, Kayla felt flush. She missed those lips…

“So, how about dessert?” Damien asked as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. “I hear their creme brulee is amazing.”

“Uh, sure, why not?”

“You know,” he began as he leaned in and reached for her hands. She allowed him to take them, but the softness of his hands disgusted her. No callouses, no roughness, not even a firm grip. “I’ve had a great night. I’d love to see you again.”

Kayla chuckled nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“What are you doing next-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

A shrill voice pierced the air as Erik’s date bolted up from her seat. Desmond, and the whole restaurant, turned around to see what was going on, and Kayla took the opportunity to remove her hands from his.

“Keep your voice down,” Erik sneered through his teeth. “We’re in public.”

“So?! You bring me out here just to dump me? To dump this?!” she gestured at her slim figure, and he rolled his eyes.

“You ain’t even all that,” he waved her off. He was tired of playing nice, and Kayla could see the exasperation written all over his face.

“Excuse me, miss-” the waiter attempted to calm her down, but the crazed woman cut him off.

“Stay out of this!”

“I’m so sorry,” Erik mouthed to the poor man who would absolutely be getting a monstrous tip later.

“Oh, you’re sorry for him, but not for me?”

“Mo, just sit down. We can finish our meal like adults-”

“Fuck you, Erik.” She threw her dirty martini at him, soaking the front of his all-black ensemble.

Kayla could damn near see the steam coming out of his ears as his apparent ex stormed out of the restaurant. Erik locked eyes with her across the room, and when he saw the concern written all over her face, his softened.

“Whew, poor fella,” Dexter commented as he turned back around. “Where was I? Oh-”

“Excuse me, where’s your restroom?” Kayla interrupted him as their waiter walked by.

“Right down there.” She pointed at a set of stairs off to the side, and Kayla thanked her as she slid out of her seat.

“I’ll be back, Darius.”

“It’s Denzel.” He deflated.

“Fuck,” she froze. She had been sure it was Darius. “Still, I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” he responded, obviously upset by her slip-up.

Kayla hurried off down the stairs and leaned against the wall as she waited for either of the single-use restrooms to open up. She took a deep breath and opened her clutch, reaching in to pull out her phone with a shaky hand and typing in his number. It was one of the few she had memorized, just in case.

“You ok?”

Her thumb hovered over the send button, but she couldn’t press it. Her heart nearly thumped out of her chest at the thought of starting a conversation with him, but something within her said that she should. It would be weird not to say anything after all that, right?

“Hey-”

“Shit!” Kayla dropped her phone when his silky baritone graced her ears.

“My fault, ma.” Erik leaned over and picked the phone off the floor, checking it for cracks. He saw she had typed a message out to him and smirked before handing it back to her.

“T-thanks.”

“No problem. And, yeah, I’m ok.”

“Huh?”

Erik pointed at her phone screen.

“Oh! Right. Um, well, that’s good to hear.” Kayla attempted to push her hair behind her ear out of habit, forgetting she had just cut it all off a week ago.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ok? You don’t seem to into ole dude out there.”

Kayla sighed and rolled her eyes, “Oh, him.”

“Damn, it’s like that?” Erik laughed, and she slapped his arm. That slight contact was enough to spark a flame in them both, and Erik’s face turned serious. “For real, though, not going well?”

“Better than you, it seems,” she quipped as she eyed his wet shirt. That was a bad idea because his first three buttons were undone, and she caught a peek of the raised scars that she missed so much. And that broad chest, and the chain with his father’s ring that he always wore. He’d let her wear it from time to time, and she always felt like it was such an honor. He trusted her enough to let her wear it. He loved her enough to-

Kayla pried her eyes away and made yet another mistake: she looked up at him. Those eyes still looked like sweet, sweet molasses, and even though his locs were braided back, she could tell he was letting them grow out. She momentarily wondered who was retwisting them nowadays, but her train of thought was cut short by the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. Kayla’s mind went blank as she inhaled slowly.

“Heh, yeah. That was...that was pretty embarrassing. Not even gonna lie.” Erik looked away shyly, unable to hold her gaze.

“I guess you’ll need to find a new date spot, huh?”

“Nah, I think I’m good on dating for a while.”

“Same,” Kayla sighed. “Dating sucks.”

“Yeah…”

One of the bathroom doors unlocked, and a middle-aged white man stepped out and passed them on the way up the stairs.

“Well, I should-”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Kayla walked towards the bathroom, but before she could reach the door, she felt a light tug on her wrist. His touch still gave her goosebumps, and he noticed her raised skin as she turned to face him.

“I just, uh...it was nice seeing you, Kay-kay.” Erik smiled at her, and she nearly melted. She missed when he called her that, too. “You look good.”

“Thanks, E.” She smiled back. “So do you.”

He let her go, and Kayla disappeared into the bathroom. When she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath to center herself. After all these months, Erik still took her breath away. He clouded her senses and scrambled her mind. Even as she took care of business, her brain replayed their short interaction on a loop.

Kayla locked eyes with her reflection as she dried her hands. How could she go back up there to- what’s his name? Oh, yeah, Da- Denzel. That’s it, Denzel. How could she go back up there to his mediocre company when the man she still loved had made her feel so alive with just one touch. That was the magic of Erik, his magnetism. When they were together, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him, even when she wanted to slap him across his beautiful face. Those were some of the best times, though. If she was angry at him, he knew exactly what to do to calm her down. To put her in her place. To remind her-

Kayla’s daydreaming was cut short by a knock at the door.

“Occupied!”

It came again.

“I’ll be out in a minute!”

She reached for another paper towel to dab off the sweat that had started to pool on her skin at the thought of Erik’s dominance when the door opened.

“What the f- Erik?!”

He pushed inside the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“You need to start locking doors, Kay.”

“I- what do you want?”

“I want to talk to you,” he spoke as he moved closer to her.

“Here?!”

“Yeah, here,” he chuckled.

Kayla rolled her eyes and tried to push past him.

“Now is not the time or place-”

“When is?” he blocked her exit, and she crossed her arms in defeat, looking up at him through her lashes as she leaned against the sink. “Look, I just need to say something real quick.”

“Fine,” Kayla sighed and gestured for him to continue. She knew there was no use fighting him. She wasn’t leaving that bathroom until he was good and ready.

“Kay,” his voice softened, and she looked away only to have her face pulled back in his direction. “Kay-kay, look at me.”

She made the mistake of doing just that, getting lost in his eyes again.

“I miss you,” Erik murmured.

“Erik-”

“Look, I know, ok? I know. And I’m sorry, Kay. I really am- no, look at me. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you...but I miss you, girl.”

Kayla’s eyes welled up with tears that she tried her hardest to blink away, but one had the nerve to fall. Erik wiped it away, and the next one, and the next one. A sob wracked Kayla’s body, and he wrapped his arms around her body.

“Don’t cry, babygirl. I know you worked hard on your makeup.”

Kayla laughed through her tears, but the emotions washed back over her, and she buried her face into his chest. It was already soaked with gin, so what harm would a few tears do?

He held her and rocked her softly from side to side as she cried, and after a couple of minutes, she found the will to look up at him again. His cheeks were wet, so she reached up and swiped her thumbs over them as she held his face in her small hands. He nuzzled into them and kissed her wrists.

“I miss you, too, E,” she croaked.

“I know, babygirl.”

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes as his soft lips caressed her skin. They stayed intertwined for who knows how long until Erik felt Kayla begin to pull back. He looked down at her, and the two of them locked eyes. Before they knew it, their lips had met in the middle in a passionate embrace. They got lost in each other for a moment until common sense returned to Kayla, and she pushed him off.

“We can’t-”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because what, Kay?” Erik’s voice rumbled as he closed what little gap was between their bodies. He left soft kisses on her temples before working down to her cheeks, then her jawline, and eventually the column of her neck. She let out a soft whimper when his teeth grazed the crook of her neck but pushed him back again before he could continue any further.

“Erik, I...I still love you, and-”

He attacked her lips with his, hands feverishly gripping her waist as he pushed her further into the sink. She had nowhere to go, and she was ok with that.

“I...love you...too...babygirl,” he whispered between kisses.

Kayla’s mind went blank as he lifted her up on the counter and pressed himself between her legs. She could feel him, all of him, and damn did she miss that monster between his legs.

“Erik,” she moaned as he nipped at her earlobe. He still knew how to play her body like a violin.

“Mmm, say it again.”

“Erik!” she squeaked as she felt his strong hands grip her thighs.

“Just like that,” he groaned, and she flooded her already wet panties.

“Baby-”

He connected his forehead to hers and stared deep into her eyes. “You miss me?”

“Mhm,” Kayla nodded with her lip between her teeth.

“I miss you, too, baby. I think about you all the time. Every day,” he pecked her lips, “every night. I miss everything about you, Kay-kay. Your off-key singing, your horrible cooking-”

“Shut up,” Kayla giggled as his hands traveled up her dress.

“Your body…fuck I miss this body. I miss how you smell, how you taste...how that tight little pussy feels wrapped around my dick.”

Kayla widened her legs for him as his fingers found their way to the seat of her panties, stroking up and down her slit. Erik kissed his way back down her face and over to her ear, his warm breath sending chills down her spine.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself? Because I do. You’re all I see when I stroke my dick...wishing it was your hand...your lips...this fucking pussy.”

Erik pushed her panties to the side, and his nimble fingers circled her clit. Kayla let out a small moan that was music to his ears, making fingers move faster and her breath grow shallower with each rotation.

“Answer me.”

“Mhm.”

“Come on, babygirl, you can do better than that. You think about me when you play in your pussy? This pussy right here?” he asked as he slapped her vulva, her wetness sticking to his hand.

“Y-yes, baby-”

“Uh-uh, you know who I am. Say it,” Erik commanded as he snuck three fingers inside her wetness, making her moan loudly in his ear. “Shhh, you gotta be quiet, babygirl. You don’t want people out there knowing how much of a slut you are, right?”

Kayla shook her head no.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I asked you a question, Kayla,” he reminded her. His gruff voice made her weak, and the fingers that were steadily speeding up inside her certainly didn’t help. “Answer me. Who am I, babygirl?”

Kayla tried to hold out as much as she could. She didn’t want to say it, too proud to give in, but the way he was currently stretching out her pussy and curling his fingers inside her made her cling to his shoulders. The bastard knew what he was doing, and she didn’t want to let him win. But then, he played dirty and bit down on her neck. She cried out, and when he pulled back to look at her, the ferocity in his eyes drove her up the wall.

“I said, who the fuck am I, Kayla?” Erik growled. His hand sped up, making her weak with every thrust. She couldn’t hold it anymore and came undone around him, her mouth betraying her as his name fell from her lips.

“Daddy!” she gasped as her pussy spasmed, and he chuckled darkly.

“Damn right I am,” he kissed her lips, “now gimme that pussy. Daddy missed his pussy.”

Kayla heard a rip and felt the cool air between her legs as he tore through her panties to get to her treasure trove. She reached down between them and grabbed his clothed erection in her hand, making him groan as he bit down on his luscious bottom lip. She undid his belt buckle and slowly unzipped his pants before reaching in and pulling out his throbbing dick.

The longing in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, so he pushed her legs back and tapped his head on her clit.

“You want daddy’s dick in you?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered.

“Good.”

He pushed in and groaned at the feeling of her pussy walls gripping him as he sheathed himself inside her.

“Fuck, you feel like home.”

Kayla moaned into his neck in response and wound her hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he stroked into her slow and deep. She couldn’t form words. He felt so damn good inside her that Kayla’s brain had short-circuited. Erik’s dick hit spots that she could never find herself no matter how hard she tried. Even in her dreams, he drove her body wild. She had spent the last year trying to find somebody, anybody who could make her feel that way, but nobody could compare to Erik Stevens.

Erik and Kayla panted heavily into each others’ mouths as he made love to her body, and as soon as Kayla started to tense up, his thrusts grew harder.

“I-I-”

“I know, babygirl. Daddy feels it,” he groaned as he nipped at her bottom lip. “Cum on my dick like a good girl.”

His words sent Kayla into overdrive, and her body shook as she spilled over him. Her spasming walls hugged him tight, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, begging him with her eyes.

“You feel amazing,” she moaned.

“Mhm. I know them other niggas wasn’t hitting it like this. I just know it. Look at you, cumming all over daddy’s dick. Look at it!” He grabbed her chin and made her look down at her throbbing pussy as his dick slid in and out of her.

“We look so good, daddy!”

Erik slammed into her, and she bit into his shoulder to keep from screaming. He gave her his all over and over, rocking the countertop in the process.

“We’ll look even better if you let me cum in this pussy. Mix my cum with yours-”

“Yes!”

“Yes?” He chuckled. “You want it that bad, huh? Nasty ass, in here getting fucked while that bum ass nigga’s waiting for you upstairs.”

“Mmm, I want it.”

“Want what, babygirl?” Erik teased as he brought his thumb to her clit, strumming it slowly as he thrust into her.

“You. I want you to cum deep in me.”

“Shit,” Erik groaned. “You want it deep in there?”

“Mhm. Put it where it belongs, daddy.” Kayla licked up the side of his neck, making his knees buckle. “Cum in your pussy.”

Erik lost all sense of control and pounded into her tight pussy, somehow getting even deeper in preparation for his release. Kayla held on tight as she felt him begin to spasm inside her, and she released around him again as his deep moans tickled her ear. Erik thrust extra deep and held his dick in place as he emptied his balls into her warmth, whimpering lightly as she rubbed his back to soothe him and bring him back down.

“I missed you, babygirl.”

“I missed you, too, daddy.”

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other until their breathing slowed. Erik was the first to move, slowly pulling himself out of Kayla as she whined at the loss of contact. He kissed all over her face before planting a slow, sweet kiss on her lips.

“I can’t let you go again, Kay-kay,” his voice cracked as tears threatened to fall from his eyes again.

Kayla pulled him back in and kissed him so deeply that she nearly lost herself in him again, but he pulled away and looked her in her eyes.

“I’m serious, girl. I’ll do anything. I’ll marry you, give you as many big-headed babies as you want. Just, please, Kay-” she cut him off with another kiss to shut him up.

“We should go back to my place and talk,” she whispered, and Erik’s face lit up. Something about the way she said it, the way she kissed him, the way her body still responded to his...it gave him hope. Kayla smiled at him and pecked his lips once more before hopping off of the sink. He had to catch her because her legs were wobbly, and she stumbled a little in her heels.

“You aight?” he laughed.

“No, nigga,” she slapped his chest, and the two of them got caught in a laughing fit. They had really just fucked in the bathroom at Chez Martine. Kayla was on cloud nine until a thought occurred to her, and her face fell flat. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Erik’s face turned serious, and his eyes scanned over her body, looking for whatever the problem was.

Kayla started giggling again, and he looked confused.

“What is it?” he asked, barely able to keep a straight face. Her laugh was always so infectious…

“Demetrius.”

“Who?!”

“My date.”

“Girl, don’t worry about him. He probably thinks you dipped out anyway.”

Kayla shrugged and fixed her dress as Erik stuffed his shirt back in his pants. They checked their reflections in the mirror, and Kayla was pleasantly surprised that her makeup was still intact thanks to that setting spray she had splurged on the other day.

“Ready?” Erik asked as he admired her beauty. Kayla nodded, and he unlocked the door, opening it to find Duncan leaning against the wall with a sour look on his face. Kayla’s eyes blew wide as she tried to figure out what to say to her date for the evening.

“Heyyy, um…”

“Denzel,” he seethed.

“Yeah, sorry. So, um, we’re-”

“Sorry, bruh,” Erik clapped him on the shoulder, “but we heading out. Bathroom’s all yours, though.”

Erik pulled Kayla along, and she sent Deion an apologetic glance before following Erik up the stairs. It seemed the whole restaurant knew what had occurred, but neither one of them cared. They were just happy to be around each other again. It had been entirely too long.

Taglist: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me,@toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @blacklytical, @uzumaki-rebellion, @honeyandpeaches, @cecereads209, @wakandama2,

[drabbles-mc]

Compromising Positions

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Request by @adela-topaz-caelon: So, seeing your Juice post just now, I got another idea (oops) if it's okay to send another. I was thinking a Juice x Female reader, who gets super defensive over him, gets teased over it a lot, but goes absolutely ape shit at the guys when she finds out they stapled a sign to his chest when he accidentally drugged himself to sleep. And then after she goes ape, threatening to staple some bitches, she cleans him up and maybe some sudden release of emotions and pooooossibly smut? ^_^ maybe :D

Warnings: language, mentions of blood/injuries

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Being ready to pop off in defense of Juice is a sentiment that I can totally get behind, so thank you for this request lmao. I didn’t end up going the smutty route because I just didn’t feel like it fit the whole mood of this story. But fear not! There will be other fics for our boy in the future that take care of that haha. Hope you enjoy!

SOA Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @mijop @garbinge @xladymacbethx @kkim120 @multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-read-stuff @chibsytelford (Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!)

You tried to tune out the conversations of the guys as you wiped down the surface of the bar. They’d hardly been out of church for five minutes and they had already completely moved past everything that they had been talking about behind closed doors. You loved them all but you would be lying if you said that listening to the way that they spoke about things sometimes didn’t get underneath your skin a little bit. You’d learned to pick your battles wisely because there was only so much that you could be frustrated about all the time.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the guys reach over and give Juice a light smack to the back of his head. You looked up, eyes instantly zeroing in on what was going on. It wasn’t shocking to you that it was Tig who was doling out the abuse—that seemed to be a large part of their relationship with each other.

Juice never seemed overly bothered by it whenever the guys would rag on him. You wished that you were as good at brushing it off as he was, but every time you saw them picking on him it made your blood boil. For that reason alone you knew that your feelings towards Juice were no secret, and the guys went in on you about it just as much as they went in on Juice for everything else. It seemed like the only person who never picked on you for how you felt about Juice was Juice himself. He never said anything about it one way or the other.

“Look out, Tig,” Jax spoke up with a laugh, “keep that up and you’re about to catch some hands from someone else.”

Your frustration must’ve been instantly apparent on your face. You made a concentrated effort to relax your features, but it wasn’t much use. Shaking your head silently, you returned your attention to the bar.

“Go on, then, Y/N,” Tig said with a cocky laugh, “If you got something to say then say it.”

You didn’t lift your eyes, knowing that getting into it right now wasn’t going to accomplish anything. Juice spoke up on your behalf, though, “Leave her alone, Tig. She’s just trying to work without having to listen to you guys talk shit all the time.”

“Funny how she only seems to get uptight when it’s about one person in parti—”

“Are you done?” you cut him off.

Tig held his hands up in mock surrender, “Sure, doll,” he turned to Juice, “Should start bringing her with you on runs. Maybe she can keep you safe out there, too.”

You gnawed at the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from saying something that would undoubtedly make the situation worse. You tossed your cleaning rag onto the surface of the bar before turning and walking towards the door of the clubhouse. Without missing a beat, you swiped a pack of cigarettes off of one of the tables as you went. You could hear the guys murmuring behind you but you blocked it out.

You were lost in your thoughts, camped out on the picnic table outside the clubhouse, when someone came and sat down next to you. Glancing over, you saw that it was Juice. You didn’t have to fully look at him to know the expression that he had on his face. It was the same one that he always had whenever the guys gave you a hard time—a mixture of pity and being flattered.

You shook your head slightly, “You don’t need to check on me, Juice. I can handle them.”

“You realize I can handle them too, right?” he gave your shoulder a playful nudge with his own.

Despite your annoyance, you smiled as you took a drag from the cigarette between your fingers. You let yourself make full eye contact with him, “I never said that you couldn’t.”

You passed him your cigarette and he took it with a smile. The two of you didn’t say anything else about what had just happened, opting to just sit and enjoy each other’s company silently. Juice was one of the few people in the world that you could enjoy silence with, and you knew that in moments like this when you were cooling off from being frustrated, it was truly a blessing to have him around.

A few days ticked by and you managed to not get yourself into any more arguments with Tig or any of the other guys. Every now and then when things were getting a little rowdy in the clubhouse you could feel the guys looking at you, waiting for you to speak up and insert yourself into the middle of it. It took some conscious effort on your part, but you stayed out of it.

You were just starting to get ready for your next shift at the bar when you heard the door to the clubhouse open. You didn’t look up at first, too immersed in everything that you were doing to try and straighten up a little bit. The only thing that caught your attention was the quiet groan that filled the room.

Looking up, your eyes went wide when you saw Juice. You had so many questions but you weren’t sure if you really wanted answers to any of them. You went to walk up to him to offer a helping hand but he waved you off as he walked back to his dorm. Every fiber of your being was telling you to follow him, but you didn’t. Part of you knew that you weren’t going to get any answers from him, so instead you stormed in the opposite direction from him to find the other guys.

You flung the clubhouse door open and were greeted by the sight of the guys huddled around the table, all laughing and joking around. You had a feeling that you knew exactly what they found to be so funny.

“What the fuck did you do this time?” you made a direct line for Tig.

“Whoa, whoa,” he laughed as he took a step back from you, “why do you assume that it was me?”

“You telling me it wasn’t?”

“Depends on what you’re talking about.”

“What the hell happened to Juice?”

“Maybe you should keep a better eye on your boy, Y/N,” Jax said, trying and failing to stifle his laughter, “and he wouldn’t land himself in such…compromising positions.”

You weren’t naïve enough to think that Juice couldn’t get himself into difficult situations on his own. He didn’t always think things through. But you also knew that when he was putting himself in sketchy situations, the guys were the first ones to try and capitalize on it.

“Alright then, VP,” you turned your attention to Jax, “what did he land himself into this time?”

“Your boy knocked himself the fuck out. Thought he was taking vitamins when he…wasn’t. That’s on him for popping whatever gets put into his hands,” Jax was shaking his head as he spoke.

“That doesn’t explain why he walked into the clubhouse practically naked and bleeding.”

“The blood was probably from the staples,” Tig chimed in with a laugh.

“The what?” you managed to keep your voice below a yell, but barely.

He continued to laugh as he motioned for Chibs to hand you the sign that had been discarded onto the table, most likely tossed there by Juice when he finally made his way back to the clubhouse. You snatched it from the man’s hands, unfolding it and reading what it said. As you continued to put the entire situation together, you saw red for a moment.

“You stapled this to his fucking chest?” you folded the sign in half and proceeded to start hitting Tig in the head and chest with it, “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“Jesus Christ,” Tig was holding his hands up to try and block the onslaught of slaps coming his way.

“Y/N,” Jax reached to grab your arm to stop you and you ripped it from his grasp.

You turned back to him, not afraid to go toe-to-toe with the VP. He might’ve held an office in the club, but he was just another blonde biker at the bar as far as you were concerned, especially in this moment.

You shoved the sign into his chest, pushing him back in the process, “What? You got some smart shit to say?”

“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than you need to. Juicy is a grown man, he can handle his own shit.”

“You think it’s not a big deal?” you stepped in close to him, “You put two staples in his goddamn chest and you think it’s not a big deal?” you shoved him once more for good measure, “Get me a goddamn staplegun! We’ll see how big of a deal it is when I’m drilling shit into your chest!” you shook your head, “I swear to fucking god, Jax, I should put some staples into your fuckin—”

You stopped short when you felt a hand land on your shoulder. You whipped around, ready to fight, but you were met with Juice’s eyes. He was still going without a shirt, but he’d taken the time to go put pants on. You were assuming that he could hear your rage from inside the clubhouse and it prompted him to come outside. There was a glint of amusement in his eyes and you would’ve been more enamored with it if you weren’t still focused on the two wounds that were bleeding on his chest.

“C’mon,” Juice tried to redirect you back towards the clubhouse, “it’s fine, Y/N. I’m alright.”

You turned back around, staring daggers at all the guys, but mostly Jax and Tig, “This isn’t over with,” you huffed and shook your head, “Motherfuckers.”

Before you could say anything else, Juice started nudging you back towards the door. You were grumbling underneath your breath as Juice continued to usher you into the building. When you were inside and it was just the two of you, you turned to him and let the anger fade away slightly.

“What the fuck is the matter with them?”

He laughed and shook his head, “We’re all a little fucked up. Can’t just hold it against them.”

“I’ll be mad at you later, don’t worry,” you sighed, unable to pry your eyes away from his injuries, “At least let me clean you up a little? I’m no doctor but I feel like I could still help you out a little bit.”

He smiled and nodded, glad that he had a way to pacify you a little bit for the time being. The last thing he wanted to be dealing with was you going on a rampage with a staplegun. You went and dug out your first aid kit from behind the bar before following him back to his dorm. The two of you sat on the edge of his bed. You wanted to stay completely focused on the task at hand but you were only human. You chastised yourself for your wandering thoughts.

“Considering you took a bunch of mystery pills,” you said with a slight shake of your head as you laid out your supplies, “you don’t look too worse for wear.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” he chuckled as he watched your calculated, meticulous movements.

“Trying to sweeten you up because cleaning out these cuts is gonna hurt like a bitch,” you managed a smile, “Don’t want you to end up hating me too much.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

You tried to ignore the heat rising in your face as you set about cleaning the torn skin on his chest. He cringed and cursed under his breath when you swabbed the cuts with alcohol. You fought the urge to apologize but it was difficult.

You were leaning in close enough to feel his breath on the side of your neck. It was taking all of your self-control to stay focused on placing bandages on him. Your hands begged you to let them wander but you kept it together. When you pulled away and looked at Juice, there was something in his expression that made you feel like he was reading every thought that had been crossing your brain as you worked.

“What?” you tried to sound less nervous than you really were as you started to put your medical supplies away.

“Were you really about to threaten to put staples in Jax’s dick?” he couldn’t keep his laughter in any longer.

You smiled as you set your first aid kit off to the side, “I sure fucking was.”

“Felt like you really meant it.”

You waited for his eyes to meet yours, “I did.”

He laughed, draping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his side, “I know I spend a lot of time telling you not to worry about the guys, but I hope you know it is nice to know that someone has my back.”

You nodded as you tried to focus on both the feeling of warmth coming from his body and the words he was saying, “Of course. I’ll go after anyone with a staplegun for you. No questions asked.”

He chuckled before leaning in and pressing a kiss against your temple. You nearly melted into a puddle in his arms at the contact. He let his lips linger against your skin for a moment, “Thank you.”

You rested your hand on his thigh, allowing yourself to lean completely into him. His arm wrapped tighter around you and you smiled as your cheek rested against the bare skin of his chest, careful to not touch the bandages you had just dressed him with.

“Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

When he didn’t say anything else, you pulled away so you could look at him. There was a small smirk tugging at the edges of his lips as he looked at you. Your eyes searched his, trying to figure out just what he was thinking.

His free hand came up and rested on the side of your face, and you instantly leaned into his touch. The palm of his hand was rough and calloused, but despite that you couldn’t deny that it felt like it was in its rightful place resting against your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut as you soaked up the moment. Juice chuckled quietly, not expecting you to react so quickly and comfortably.

It gave him a little boost of confidence as he leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. You opened your eyes, smiling as your heart began to speed up inside your chest.

“Wanna know what would really make me feel better?” you could hear that he was trying not to laugh as he spoke.

“What?” a giggle slipped out past your lips.

“If you let me kiss you.”

You laughed, reaching up to rest one hand on the back of his neck, “For your health.”

You could feel the smile still on his face as he pressed his lips against yours. Everything else that had been happening suddenly faded from your mind—the only thing you could think about was how right it felt to be kissing him. His thumb traced lightly along your cheekbone as he leaned into you. You couldn’t win out over the urge to smile as you continued to kiss him, and you could feel the laughter starting to vibrate in his chest.

He pulled you so that you were straddling his lap, keeping his lips locked onto yours as he did. Your hands cradled the back of his head as his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. You could feel the warmth of his body seeping through your shirt and the only thought coursing through your brain was that he felt like home.

When he finally pulled his lips off of yours, they were still curved up into a smile. You could feel the warmth flooding your face as you tried to stifle a laugh, biting down lightly on your bottom lip. He ran his hands up and down your sides and you pressed a quick, light kiss to his lips.

“Feel better?” you finally said, your laughter beginning to escape you.

“I think so,” there was a playful glint in his eyes, “but just to be sure, could you do that again?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head despite the fact that you knew you were never going to say no to him, “Anything for you.”

[the-duke-of-nuts]

Is This Coffee Hot Or Is It Just You?

Day 3: Coffee Shop @dukexietyweek 

Summary: Virgil finds out that a certain someone happens to work at the local coffee shop

Pairing: Dukexiety

Word Count: 1389

Warnings: Food Mention, Innuendos, Violence Mention, Literally all of my fics contain swearing so there’s that I guess

Tag List: @idontcareaboutcanon (If anyone else wants to be added just let me know)

Ah Coffee shops. Virgil never understood the appeal about a place filled with nothing but caffine, free WIFI, hipsters, and pastries. He certainly also didn't understand why he agreed to go to the local one near his apartment that his friends kept oh so begging him to go to for some reason. Well, by "friends" it was mostly Patton and Roman. His other two friends could care less about the place just as much as him. But here he was opening the door to the quiet semi-crowded shop. There was an oddly comforting atmosphere to it. The lights were dim, random relaxing music can be heard through the speakers, various different tea boxes and mugs hung on the shelves. "Maybe this place isn't so bad." Virgil thought to himself as he looked around the room. He walked forward to the counter as he happened to be the next person in line but then he saw him.

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

Remus Pierce. The same Remus Pierce that always flirted with him in high school. The same Remus Pierce that casually ate juiced bread at lunch to gross people out. The same Remus Pierce that Virgil secretly had a crush- 

"Well hello there customer~ What can I get you~?" The said mustached, silver streaked hair barista asked smirking. "Coffee." Virgil deadpanned. "I'm afraid you're gonna need to be more specific than that." "Like my soul." Virgil glared. "Alright so black it is. And a name?" Remus smirked as he uncapped a marker and held an empty coffee cup. "Oh my god Remus you already know my-" Virgil took a deep breath in so he could stop himself from getting angry and causing an unnecessary scene and answered with a fake smile "Virgil." "I'm sorry can you spell that for me please? I don't wanna misspell a hottie like yours name like everybody else here does to the other customers."

That damn cocky smirk.

Virgil just wanted to kiss- punch that smug look off his face. "V-I-R-G-I-L." "Okay S-E-X-Y got it. Your beverage should be hot and ready for you shortly." Remus winked and booped Virgil's nose as he walked off to go make the emo's coffee. Virgil growled blushing and buried his face in his hands.

Damn him for being so hot- horrible!

Remus soon came back with Virgil's coffee and dramatically bowed as he held the cup for him to take."For you, my 'Bittersweet Symphony'. "Thanks..." Virgil hesitantly took the beverage. "How much?" He asked as he placed the cup down and reached for his wallet. "Oh for you it's on the house!" "Thanks I guess?" Remus smiled and responded with a nod and a hum.

You gorgeous fuck stop smiling!

Virgil's heart started beating a little faster. Surely Remus wasn't having this effect on him right? They've known each other since high school. There was nothing to be nervous about. The only reason Virgil didn't hear much about the barista after that was because Roman hardly ever talked about him. "So... You work here." Virgil stated as he tried to start a conversation. "Yup! Have been for a couple of months now. What about you? Do you do anything nowadays?" "Of course I do I do a lot of stuff!" Virgil immediately answered. " Oh really? Like what?" Remus asked amused. "Stuff..." Virgil half mumbled as he looked away. Remus cackled.

That disgustingly beautiful laugh.

"Vee Vee, I've known you long enough to know that you're not fully being honest because you're either 1, ashamed or 2, scared of what I'm gonna say. Now c'mon what do you actually do? I promise I won't judge." Virgil blushed. Was he really that readable?

"Fine. It's not like you care or anything but I write poems and sell them."

"Nice. Maybe one of these days you can read me one of your angsty emo sonnets. OOH! Or better yet I can help you write some juicy-"

"Not happening!"

"Fine fine suit yourself." Remus chuckled. "So what brings you here Finding Emo?"

"Prince Drama Queen and Chocolate Chip Cookies."

"Ah so Romano and Patty. That figures. You sure it wasn't for another reason~?"

"No?"

"C'mon admit it. I know you missed me~" Remus smirked playfully pinching Virgil's cheek. "I didn't even know you worked here!" Virgil blushed as he swatted Remus' hand away. "Yeah but now you do and you can see me aaaaanytime you want." "Whatever..." Virgil crossed his arms and looked away.

There soon became a silence between them. Since when did Remus' eyes get prettier? Maybe it was the eyeshadow? No he always had that. Maybe it was because they were a deep chocolate brown? His hair and lips definitely looked softer and- Shit! Virgil was staring!

Get out of there! Get out of there now!

"Anyways I should get going and uh-" Virgil cleared his throat as he picked up his coffee and turned around to leave as quick as possible but Remus stopped him. "Wait uh Virgil, can I ask you something?" Ah yes every anxiety-ridden person's favorite question. "You just did." Virgil deadpanned trying to play off his anxiousness. "You know what I meant!" Remus said slightly irritated.

"Fine. What is it?"

"Okay so I was wondering if you maybe wanted to hang out together later after my shift?"

Virgil blushed. "Like a date?" "If you want it to be~" Remus wiggled his eyebrows and winked. "But in all seriousness yeah kind of." A date!? Remus was far from being the romantic type. This had to be a trick right!?

"Remus I-"

"Look, I know you don't like me much and you probably hate me, but just give me this one chance... Please?" Remus took Virgil's hand and gave him a pleading look. Virgil unconsciously held Remus' hand tighter staring into his eyes. He felt bad. Did Remus really think he actually hated him? That was far from the truth. Virgil loved him. He loved him so damn much since the moment he first laid eyes on him. He just didn't know how to tell him. Let alone show him. 

Virgil sighed. "Fine. One date and that's it. If I actually have a good time, I'll maybe consider going on some more with you. If not, then whatever we have going on between us isn't happening.” That was an obvious lie. Virgil would've agreed to go on countless ones regardless of the outcome and accept to being Remus' boyfriend if he asked but he never wanted to actually admit that to the barista's face.

"I won't disappoint!" Remus smiled getting a little excited. "Yeah yeah whatever. Just out of curiosity, what exactly is this date?" Virgil asked knowing fully well that this "date" the barista had planned was far from his twin's definition. Remus smirked and leaned forward for only Virgil to hear. "Two words. Baseball bats and breaking shit." There's the Remus he knew and loved.

Still chaotic as ever.

Virgil smiled. "Alright you've piqued my interest." "I'm glad I did. If I'm lucky, we both know what happens after the first date~" Remus smirked wiggling his eyebrows. "Shut up. You wish." Virgil blushed holding back a laugh and playfully pushed Remus' face away. Remus cackled.

"A man can fantasize."

"Yeah a little too much."

"So you have thought about-"

"Pierce! Stop flirting with the customers and get back to work!"

Remus rolled his eyes annoyed at his manager's voice in the distance. "I gotta go. My shift ends in like 2 hours and I put my number on the cup so just call or text me or come back by then." "Alright." Remus smirked. "What!?" Virgil blushed confused but immediately realized what that smirk meant.

Oh no.

Remus practically made this phrase a tradition everytime they said bye to each other. "I love you no homo." Yup there it was. Virgil sighed and facepalmed "I love you too no homo..." Remus smiled satisfied that Virgil still said it back since the day they first met.

"Later."

"Later."

 Virgil picked his coffee up and left and smiled to himself as soon as he went outside. After all of these years, he's still a dork. That's what Virgil always loved about Remus. And with that final thought, Virgil finally sipped his coffee and his smile grew wider.

He remembered exactly how I liked it.

[peachyproserpina]

Cherry Pie

Clyde x Fem!Reader

Hello! Welcome to the first part of the “Pie” series where I’ll be indulging myself with banking and writing about the various guys. This was inspired by the very talented and very beautiful @glassbxttless whom I owe my life to, please read their fic Blackberry Pie here (x)

TW: Smut, Food, Oral F!Receiving, teasing, alcohol mention, kinda public sex, cream pies ;)

As always if I miss something or if you need something tagged please let me know!

It’s been a long month for everyone in Boone county. Summers are always hot and long here, which yall are thankful for being as winter can get ugly but this summer is almost too much. It’s still the beginning of July and Clyde’s been busy with the bar way more than ever before, so many new people in and out of town has made Duct Tape a hot spot every night of the week and while you’re thankful that Cylde doesn’t have to worry about making ends meet for the bar you sure do miss your man.

One full month he’s come home too exhausted to even get undressed all the way before collapsing into bed with you and it breaks your heart. One full month since he’s been able to bury his cock into you like how you need and it’s starting to take its toll. Thankfully the holiday is coming up and Clyde has decided to take the day off from the bar, seein’ as the whole Logan clan will be getting together for the celebration and both of you agreed you needed the time together. It’s at Jimmy’s new place, a cute little house on the other side of the state line so he can be close to Sadie, him and Sylvia have fixed it up really nice, a big backyard and a lil pool for everyone to lounge in as well. You’ve been tasked with dessert and Clyde just needs to help with the grill and other than that it’s a chance to relax.

It’s the day of, and you wake up Clyde with a kiss on his cheek and a coffee sat next to him on his little side table, hot and black just like you know how he likes it.

“Time to get up, bear. We have a party to go to.” You press kisses down his neck before placing one right where his heart beats nice and strong in his chest. Clyde grumbles and wraps his arms around you pullin you into bed with him before he rolls over and gets you under him.

“10 more minutes darlin’ please?” His voice is still sleepy dark and it makes you melt, you can feel the way he’s still breathing nice and deep and despite the fact he is squishin’ all the air out of your lungs you laugh. You pat his sides and let out a little sigh when he rubs his face into that tender spot right on your shoulder making you tense up under him.

“Bear, you know we can't, you're on grill duty and I promised Mel I’d bring cherry pie.” He props himself up and looks at you all pouty and sleep still clinging to his eyes. You melt for him even more if that was even possible, between the way the sun is making his eyes go all honey for you and the way he’s all yours always and forever is making you want to keep him in bed all day. But you made a promise, shaking yourself out of the very tempting idea of ditching his family you nod.

“Mhm, homemade cherry pie with ice cream and whipped cream just how ya like Clyde.” You tuck some of his hair behind his ear and he leans into your touch.

“Alright, I’m up. Let's get goin’ sweets.” Clyde presses a kiss to you before he’s really truly getting up for the day and you smile watchin’ him the whole time.

-

It’s not a long drive to Jimmy’s which you’re thankful for. You can feel your thighs sticking to the seat where your sundress has ridden up and your chest is already flush from the heat. How Clyde manages to wear his jeans and button up in this heat leaves you astounded every time. He’s not subtle in the way he checks you out, your Clyde, never has been even before you both started dating. You can feel the way his eyes are on you as yall drive over to Jimmy’s can see the way his hand is itching to ride up your thigh and he’s white knuckled the steering wheel more than he ever has before. You try to hide the smirk, knowing exactly what you were doing wearing his favorite sundress (on account of the easy access for you both.)

You’re pulling into the driveway in record time and the way Clyde does his little jog to rush and open your door for you makes your heart sing. You thank him with a sweet kiss and when you bend over to get the pie and ice cream out of the boot of the car you can hear Clyde cough when he sees the barely there underwear you picked. You smirk and turn to him, giving him a wink while you make your way into the house, ready to cool off with a nice drink and ready to see how far you can push Clyde.

The rest of the afternoon goes on without an incident for the most part, you’re gabbing with Mellie and Sylvia while Sadie runs around with the other kids there. The Bang brothers are there playing horseshoe and making a ruckus, Clyde is manning the grill and there’s smiles all around. It’s not until Clyde is done cooking and you’ve finally broken out dessert that things start to heat up in the late afternoon sun. Clyde has you perched on his lap, cold beer in one hand and the other is splayed all across your back, and you may or may not be rubbing yourself into him. You can feel him tense up and he leans in close, breath puffing against your ear.

“Watch it darlin’ there’s family here.” He mumbles into your ear and you try not to grin, looking over your shoulder you bat your eyelashes up at him and he scoffs, taking a swig from his beer.

“I’m not doin’ nothin’ Clyde.” You say, a little lilt to your vice and the side of your mouth tips up, teasing him. He rolls his eyes and goes back to watchin’ you cut pie to add to the scoop of icecream on your plate. He watches you hot a heavy, he can see the way the cherry sauce drips off your fingers as you push it off the knife, the way you bring those fingers up to your mouth to lick the sauce off, and oh fuck now he’s fully hard in his jeans. He watches you, he’s been fucking aching for you for the last the month. Both of you busy, you’re gone by the time he gets up and you’re either waitin’ up for him tryin not to pass out when he finally stumbles in the door, and honest to god he can’t remember the last time he jerked off this much, musta been before he met you because fuck. It’s been getting bad enough he’s ended up cumming in a tissue in his office with stifled groans and pants almost every day this week, just desperate for you. So when he’s watching you eat his favorite cherry pie and a sweet little drop lands right on the top of your breast he loses it. You go to wipe it off and Clyde’s hand catches you, the metal of the prosthesis cold from where he was holding his beer.

He takes a quick look around, making sure that no one is looking before he is pulling you closer, right on top of the hardon in his jeans and your breath starts to quicken. He leans in close, so close you can feel every puff of breath against your skin before he is licking up the sticky trail of pie and ice cream off of your chest. You let out a little whine and that snaps Clyde into action, he’s standing up your hand still firmly in his grip and he’s pulling you inside, you follow after him, pussy throbbing and dripping down your thighs for him. Yall end up in the kitchen before Clyde turns on you and pulls you into a desperate kiss, it’s hot and heavy, all tongues and when his other hand makes its way into your hair and pulls you moan loud and frantic for him. That makes Cylde pulls away and looks over your shoulder just to make sure no one heard you.

“Darlin’ you gotta be quiet or else everyone is going to know what a lil slut you are for my cock.” Cylde still has a good grip on your hair and you try to nod when he tightens up that grip and you clench down on nothing. Clyde smirks before he’s kissing you nice and deep again, leaning your head up and pulling you close to feel how hard he is in his jeans. You scramble to take off his belt, so desperate for him and he kisses his way down your jaw and sucks bruises where you know you won't be able to cover it up. You wrestle his belt open and start working on his pants, palming his hard on through his jeans the whole time. His hand drops and cups yoru ass under your dress, he lets out a breathy chuckle when he can feel how you’re so wet you've managed to soak your thighs.

“You’re that wet for me Darlin’? So desperate it’s like you’ve been waiting for this. Teasin’ me all day.” Clyde is pulling your panties to the side and teasing your pussy when you finally get his cock out of his pants and he groans.

“Yeah bear, so fucking wet all for you. I’ve needed you so fucking bad these last couple of weeks.” You drool right onto the tip of his cock making the glide of your palm up and down easier, he tips his head back and swallows hard. He pulls his fingers out of you and you whine, but it’s not long before he has you bent over the nearest clear spot on the counter, flipping your dress up and dropping to his knees behind you. You sit up on your elbows and gasp when he wraps his lips around your clit, wasting no time. He smirks and trails his tongue up up up and buries it into you, his fingers now rubbing your clit and it’s almost funny that he already has you this close to cumming and he hasn’t even gotten started. You clench down on him hard and he gives your ass a swat, making you gush all over his tongue.

Clyde’s eyes roll to the back of his head and he laments the fact he has to pull away from your juicy pussy, but his cock is leaking hot and heavy and if he doesn’t sink into your cunt he might bust before he gets the chance to. You whine when he pulls away but stop when you feel him rub the head of his cock between your soaking folds, you stand on your tippy toes presenting yourself just that little more for him and when he starts sinking in you both let out a moan. It’s a stretch, specially after not having him in you for so long, but fuck it feels so fucking perfect. You’re panting and Clyde is leaning over you on the counter, pressing right into you and his fingers tease their way around to flick your clit making you clench down on him hard.

“Now listen here, you’re gonna take my cock, you’re gonna let me fill you up with all my cum.” Clyde whispers it into your ear and you’re nodding cock drunk already and he hasn’t even started. Satisfied with your answer Clyde starts a hard pace, hips snapping into yours hard, the slap of skin on skin ringing throughout the kitchen. You;’re biting your lips so hard you’re worried you might draw blood and you can feel the rumbles coming from Clyde’s chest. You stand on your tippy toes and that gives Clyde just enough leverage to hit that tender spot that makes your vision white out with every drag and his heavy cock. You gasp and clench down, cuming hard and soaking him with your orgasm, catching both you and Clyde off guard with how faceful it is.

“Fucking tight cunt for me. I’m-” Clyde chokes when he feels you squeeze down on him again and you tighten up just for him.

“Come on bear, fill me up please?” It's a breathy and whiney plea that pushes Clyde right over the edge, groaning and filling you up until he is dripping out of you, making a mess out of you both. You let out a little laugh, feeling weightless and so fucking content now that Clyde’s come in you. He slips out and stuffs his fingers right back up.

“Keep this safe, we’re goin’ home right now so you can do that thing with your tongue that I like so much.” Clyde pulls the scrap of fabric over the messy creampie he left you, you look over your shoulder at him.

“But the party. Clyde we can’t just-” you stop dead in your tracks when you catch a glimpse of how dark his eyes are, promising that you won't be able to get outta bed tomorrow you’re going to be so thoroughly fucked.

“Fuck the party, we’re goin home right now and I’m making up for lost time.”

[shhhlikeme]

F*cked Out 💤

Ojiro Aran Domestic Smut (NSFW) part 2

A/N: I wrote this as a Part 2 to this fic, but it can be read as a stand alone!

18+, Explicit smut, praise kink, Aged up obvs, Timeskip spoilers

Tagging: @saitamastamaticsoup & @chunhua-s b/c these Aran stans found part 1 last night & their comments made me thirsty enough to write a pt. 2. Hope you like it!

also my lovely @qyuanon who I just read is back and I missed her💛

Futilely, you knocked on the door to yours and your man’s home office. Leaning on the frame, you crossed your arms. Being a literal isolationist when you had to work, you never understood why your man liked keeping the office door open. But then he told you once that he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t hear you calling him if the door was closed. ‘What if something happened and I didn’t run to you?’ He had explained, pouting when you laughed at him. It warmed your heart, but you decided not to call his name tonight, instead opting to physically pay him a visit. You had to, because what lead you here in the first place was serious! You had just woken up in the middle of the night because his side of the bed had turned cold. Yeah, that deserved nothing less than a visit from you! 

From your spot in the doorway you could see Ojiro sitting at the grand desk, his back turned to you, the lights from his laptop playing some Team Canada highlights. The screen bluelight shone brightly on his gorgeous dark skin, the back of his head bobbed up and down as he dutifully wrote down any important plays he was seeing so that he could tell his coach tomorrow.

“Babe,” You announced your presence with a soft smile. Your man is such a hard worker and he really doesn’t get enough credit for it. You tighten the robe you were wearing because it was always kind of drafty on this side of the house. “You have a game tomorrow.” 

Your boyfriend, captain of the Japanese National Volleyball Team’s shoulders slumped when he heard you, but he didn’t turn around. 

He didn’t have to.

He never had to. Even though you’ve only been dating for a bit over a year, you two knew each other so well that you could accurately tell exactly what kind of expressions, feelings, and thoughts permeated the other without having to be vis-a-vis. When you first met, your dates were—objectively speaking—oddly silent for the most part. The waitress once asked you if you were uncomfortable through an inconspicuous napkin note, which was kind of her—but the truth was that on that date you were actually more than Okay! It might have seemed odd to an outsider or eavesdropper that no sentences were being finished, and both people on said date were constantly staring down, away, or into each others eyes in silence… but realistically, neither of them could grasp the fact that words weren’t necessary when there existed a connection like yours and Aran’s. 

‘It’s fate. He’s the one.’ You had told your friends after the second date when you realized your mind reading wasn’t a fluke. Because as corny as it sounded then and even now in your memory; it was true, tf. 

Doesn’t mean you weren’t going to kick his ass for letting his side of the bed go cold, though. You were used to Aran being gone for volleyball so you had no problem falling asleep alone, but when you were ecstatic to have him home it was important for him to REMAIN home, which means staying in bed if you fell asleep on his chest! He has never done it before, so This is not Okay!

“I know, baby, I know…” your boyfriend calls to you, scribbling on his notepad faster. “I’m almost done. I-I think their setter could be doing one of two plays to start tomorrow, and I don’t think it’s the one I was sure about before we went to bed. And I mean, we play them until 12pm, so—“

“So nothing. You still have to be up by 6. The stadium is far and knowing you, you won’t sleep on the Team’s bus, you’ll still be watching these videos even then. I’ll—“

“Please don’t tell Iwaizumi-san, he will kick my ass! We’re playing Team Canada tomorrow and they are ranked just under us but—“

“Not by a lot, I know. I understand, but you guys will still pull the win. I know it....because Your team has you.”

Aran chuckled heartily, continuing to scribble with his back still turned, but his voice turned a little more endearing. “Thank you, baby. But.... I can’t seem to sleep tonight... I just can’t. I’ve been up this whole time so I—” As your boyfriend babbled on, you quietly interjected, 

“I know a way to get you to sleep.” 

“—won’t use my laptop in bed and wake you up when you’re sleeping so….wait….what did you—?” 

You smirked, knowing that your man knew why your voice had dropped a few octaves. He knew you were up to something, not because you two could practically read each other’s minds—moreso because you two had already established that that specific tone of voice of yours made his dick hard. The pen he was scribbling with stopped moving, finally, and you could just picture the way he gulped just now. 

“I know you can’t sleep, Ar…..” You made sure he could hear you clearly now, in the voice you only reserved for fuck-me-o’clock. 

A sexy smirk that Ojiro could see without looking at you played in his mind and on your face simultaneously. 

“Yeah?” He asked, his deep voice cracking. 

You kept speaking in that voice with one goal in mind.

“Yes, baby…” You hummed thoughtfully before stating,

“So why don’t you come over here and fuck me so hard it puts you to bed, then?”

Drunk off horniness caused by the amount sex dripping from your voice, the captain of Japan’s National Volleyball Team slowly turned the office chair so that he was facing you. 

Boldly, you turned your back to him at the same time and fiddled your hands that just tightened your robe. This time, instead of tightening it, you loosened the strings fully so your robe was wide open, facing the emptiness of your house. Knowing that your boyfriend was checking out and admiring your ass in that short silk robe and desiring the shock factor—in one motion you tossed the robe over your shoulders so that it pooled at your feet, exposing your completely nude back and backside to your man. 

“🤤 Shit,” Ojiro groaned, sounding as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. You just knew your man was biting that full and juicy bottom lip of his.

Swaying your hips to give your man a tiny show, you sauntered precisely where he didn’t want you to: away from him; heading towards the master bedroom. 

You kept yourself from giggling when you heard the aggressive shutting of a laptop, a volleyball announcer being cut off, and a certain volleyball player’s stumbling and cursing because Ojiro was practically chasing you out of the office.

***

“Mmmm…. Fuck..”

A few minutes later, your mind displayed a valiant effort by attempting to guess how your boyfriend looked right now, but it would be in vain. You couldn’t picture your man like you usually could because you were currently being fucked way too fucking well. Ojiro was filling you completely with just half his length, whispering horny-nothings to help you understand his feelings anyway:

“God damn, Y/N… Every. Time. Feels. So. God. Damn. Good,”

Now, If your mind was clear you’d be able to perfectly visualize how Ojiro’s face was scrunched up in pleasure right now, a coat of sweat coating his nude dark skin, the skylight over his head allowing the moon to reflect an insanely sexy glow sheen over his muscles due to the perspiration. 

“Auuh there’s nothing better than this, baby…”

If your mind was clear you’d be able to perfectly visualize how Ojiro’s head was tilted backwards right now, his mouth slightly ajar as he focused on not cumming inside you within the first few minutes of this because he needed to feel you cum around him first. As always. 

“Not when I hitting a line shot, not when I get a service ace.... nothing feels—auuuh f-uck— better than your pussy, baby girl..…”

If your mind was clear, you’d be able to see Ojiro on his knees behind you, holding your hips in his giant hands while he drove into you from behind, inserting only half his cock in and out like a pro, then surprising you with a fully thrust every now and then when he sheathed all 10 inches inside your heat.

“Mmm, so ti-ight, always so wet… damn,”

Despite your mind being clouded by immense pleasure, however—you did know that you looked absolutely wrecked with your face pressed in the pillow, blindly reaching behind you to tap or wave or pinch or do something to him since you couldn’t speak. You could barely made any sounds other than choked out moans because it felt so spectacular… but you didn’t have to! Aran knew that you wanted your boyfriend to stop playing and give you full strokes. His half thrusts filled and pleasured you more than any one ever could because he was huge and skilled in bed, he knew just how your insides liked to be stroked, but that didn’t stop you from silently pleading to him..

Even if Ojiro wasn’t holding back like always because he was very aware of his size and girth, even if you both knew that it would hurt you the next day like after a good workout, even if you walked funny when you had to attended his Olympic game several hours from now—you fucking needed it.

HE fucking needed it!

“Harder, Ar,” You commanded, “Deeper!”

“Fuck,” Your boyfriend panted, still not giving you what you asked 7 amazing strokes later. 

“Harder, now!” You cried as if you were whispering to the fucking pillow. You hadn’t the strength to lift your head. Your orgasm was fast approaching because HALF your man’s dick was too good and there was no way you weren’t bringing him with you. “Deeper, baby!”

“Y-you su-sure?” He asked worriedly. He always did this shit 🙄. He always worried way too much about your body soreness and way too little about both of your impending orgasms tonight rocking your motherfucking worlds. 

Ugh!

Good boyfriends and their fucked up PRIORITIES, amirite?!

Needless to say, you didn’t have time for compassionate Aran tonight. You needed him to fuck the both of you to sleep the way you knew he was capable of if he stopped holding back. Besides, he should have been in bed hours ago. You had to do this for the sake of the National Team! You had to this for JAPAN! (A/N: lucky b*tch shut your horny ass up)

So that’s why, in response to his asking if you were sure or not, you responded by clenching your insides so that your slick hole squeezed around your boyfriend’s cock. 

As soon as he felt you pulsing impossibly tighter around him as he fucked you halfway, his eyes rolled back in his head. 

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck…” He moaned deeply, so of course you continued doing it.

“Shit, Y/N, Okay, Okay,”

Without having to beg for mercy, your man did as you asked him to. He moved his hands from your waist to splay them on each of your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to make more room for his member that already barely fit (with your hasty prep and not his tentative one), but especially when your pussy clenched around him like that. With a loud moan from both of you, he bottomed out and stayed there for a bit to get you used to the size. You almost passed out by how good it felt pressing against your g-spot.

When Aran couldn’t take it anymore, and he started giving it to you: hard, fast, and deep. 

“Ye, baby, make room for me just like this…..” He moaned, gripping your ass tighter. “You want all of me? You think your tight hole can handle all of me?” He asked, no growled, still giving shallow but gratifying thrusts.

You whimpered, knowing that Ojiro knew the answer to that. Even so, you egged him on, “Sh-Show me why you’re the best top,” playing into your dirty talk from the last time y’all had sex like this but he was under you. 

Your boyfriend let out a long groan in his smooth deep voice and picked up his pace in reaponse, sending a new wave of wetness to your private. You were so soaked down there that it sounded like y’all were having sex in the bath tub, fuck. 

Your man loved it. 

“Mmmm, —m’ close beautiful,” He called, snapping his hips forward to meet you g-spot again and again. “It’s you, baby, it’s you,” Your man groaned. “Your pussy feels too fucking good……. I’d never pull out if I had to co-couldd,” 

“Oh, God. Aran!" You moaned loudly due to his dirty talk and praise, teetering on the edge of your release. Knowing that you maybe had 30 seconds left if you focused, you must have decided that you didn’t want to walk tomorrow at all because being the weakness of your bf you are, from your position being pounded into the sheets, you propped yourself up on your weak arms so that you could use the fact that your elbows were digging into the mattress as leverage to push your body back so that you met Aran’s deep thrusts. 

Like your boyfriends does every rare time he’s able to see your glorious ass bounce on his hard dick, his eyes flew open and he felt as though he’d been transported to heaven itself. 

“Y/N—auh, s-so sexy, aah, ooh, ohhh, fuck, Y/N,”

entranced, Aran couldn’t even last another second before he was stopping your movements with his hands, sliding them back on your hips to hold you still as his orgasm took his muscular frame by storm. He saw stars.

Of course, his orgasm triggered yours immediately, and you cried your man’s name as you came on his dick. He whispered yours as your insides milked him without influence this time, effectively lengthening your man’s finish. Panting, Aran just barely caught himself before his now exhausted body toppled over you. 

His last wakeful act, being the gentleman that he is, was to roll over so he wouldn’t crush you with his body weight, pulling out at the same time. 

You wondered if he registered that he said, “thank you baby,” before he began softly snoring—a sign that he was completely worn out and sleeping.

You smiled softly to yourself when you heard his snores, finally turning when you caught your own breath, to fully see your boyfriend’s stunning face. You endearingly brushed his goatee with the tips of your fingers, turning his sleeping face to yours so you could peck his lips. Then, you just barely had the leg strength to stand up on limbs that barely worked, removing his condom for him, then using the furniture in your room to support you as you cleaned the two of you up. You almost fell asleep standing up as you used a cloth on the two of you. Five minutes later, you were back in bed, under the covers with your lover and amazing man. 

Usually, Ojiro Aran slept like the dead (when he first moved in you occasionally have to check if he was still breathing...) , but you knew now that if he snored, that was a sign that he was so fatigued. You knew about the snoring, but the talking was new to you. Ojiro was so deep in his sleep after that round, that he was talking to himself in his slumber, whispering sweet-nothings about you that you’d never let him know he vocalized to spare him the embarrassment.

Besides, he didn’t say anything too embarrassing.... and you knocked out as soon as your head met his chest, not even feeling his arm sweetly wrap around your waist to pull you closer. So, you didn’t even hear most of his sleep-talk.

And maybe you were right when you called it fate, that drove the two of you.... because if it wasn’t fate that had you place your head on Aran’s chest at that exact moment, if it wasn’t fate that made you fall asleep at that exact moment..... then, I mean, you would have heard Ojiro not a second later declare aloud that he’s hiding your engagement ring in the office’s cabinet drawer. You would have heard theis the real reason he wasn’t able to fall asleep: because he was so nervous about asking for your hand in marriage before his Japan vs. Canada game tomorrow, when you least expected it.

Cause like, well, that totally would have ruined the surprise.

But you did fall asleep. Fate did that. So him sleep talking honestly never really happened.

And you know what else never happened? 

You never had to feel the cold side of the bed again where your man should be, at least not that night, because Aran Ojiro your new fiancée’s body kept it warm all night, because you were great and helping him fall asleep like a baby....making him just that:

 f*cked out. 

[mightysteelix]

Pent Up Desires (Fic)

Ever since the summer event last year, I've been toying with the idea of a larger Robin. And now that its rerun is about to come, I've decided that it is time to finally write it out - and meanwhile hit as many of my kink buttons as possible. This is the result - one of my most indulgent works (if not the most indulgent work to beat them all).

Rating: Explicit Category: M/M Fandoms: Fate/Grand Order Relationship: Robin Hood | Archer/Billy the Kid | Archer Characters: Robin Hood | Archer and Billy the Kid | Archer Summary: Do you remember when B.B. said she would turn Robin into a pig during ServaFes? What if she followed on the threat, albeit with quite the twist?

Robin is cursed and can't control himself around food. Billy has promised to help, but he can't control himself around Robin.

Weight-gain kink fic. Don’t like, don’t read.

WARNING FOR KINK CONTENTS UNDER THE CUT

Additional Tags: Weight Gain; Belly Kink; Size Kink; Size Difference; Masturbation; Dry Humping; Stuffing; musclechub; Robin gets huge; And Billy tries not to jerk off whenever he sees him; Self-Indulgent

LAST WARNING FOR KINK

Summer was in full swing, and Babbage blasted enough steam to make Chaldea hotter than a waterless hole in the heart of the prairie. So, it did not come as a shock that Robin was rockin’ only trunks and an open shirt, which showed some well-sculpted arms. The guy was hell-fired handsome with the finest body ever, and if he wanted to kick back, Billy wouldn’t protest. Nay, what hit like a bullet to the brain was the ton of food in front of him—meats, loaves of bread, and a raft of drinks.

“How’s it goin’, partner?” Billy plopped down in a chair next to Robin. “Famished after Servant Fes sucked the life outta ya?”

“It’s…” Robin, with a larger scowl on his face than usual, panted. “It’s that… purple-haired witch’s fault.” He grabbed a drumstick and tore off some meat like a starved wolf. “She threatened to turn me in a pig…” His face was red with effort. “We had to win her Holy Grail…” He bit another chunk. “Don’t worry,”—Billy stifled a giggle when Robin mocked the Master’s voice—“she won’t follow on it.’ It’s easy to speak when this isn’t happening to them!” After chewin’ the last of the drumstick thoroughly, he swallowed. The slow gulp traveled down his throat and into his stomach. Robin punched his chest and exhaled in relief.

Billy’s eyes followed it and glued themselves to Robin’s gut. It was taut, bloated, as large as a basketball—and just as hard if he touched it. The pressure was makin’ the skin around the belly button burn angrily. The trunks rested under the overgorged curve, a trial of ginger peekin’ below the band. “True, partner, you’re becomin’ a nice piggy,” Billy quipped. “So, the purple lass’s itchin’ for a vendetta, and she chose ya?”

After he popped a soda open and drank half the bottle—his gurglin’ gut sloshin’ and expandin’ even more—Robin nodded. “She cursed the clothes. And I must’ve stepped on her toes something fierce when I complained to Master. Now I can’t even take the swimsuit off.” He grit his teeth, his handsome face (Was that the start of a double chin? Nay, don’t stare!) grimacin’ as he tried to keep the fizz down. His strained jaws opened as if pried apart, and with shakin’ hands, he poured in the rest of the drink. His neck bobbed; his stomach filled and grew in every direction. “Whenever I see—urp!”

Robin closed his mouth. His cheeks bulged with a held-back belch. Yet the stress forced his lips to open: “UUUURRPPP!” He bowed his limp head away. “Excuse me,” he muttered. “But when there’s any food—anything—I must eat it. It doesn’t matter if I’ll explode; my hands will push it down to my stomach.” He slapped the swollen ball, it barely swayin’. Something bubbled in its depths rose in his throat, and he let out another lengthy burp.

Bitin’ his lips, Billy leaned closer. “Have ya tried stayin’ outta here? Far from the eyes, far from the heart and all that?” he advised Robin, his eyes lookin’ anywhere but that overstuffed middle.

“I’m trying. But she’s pulling that Archer’s strings, too.” Robin grunted and glanced at the kitchen while devourin’ a buttered slice of bread. “If I leave my room, he’s on my tail with a cupcake or some other treat. Before I know it, I am dragged here and”—he pointed to the ungodly number of plates—“you see the rest.”

Billy nodded slowly, his whole willpower holdin’ him from lickin’ his lips. A fire was blazin’ in his chest—and his groin. He knew EMIYA’s dirty little secret way too well: the way a man’s gluttony melted him faster than an ice cube durin’ high noon. The Archer had left his treats unguarded when Amakusa discovered his sweet tooth. And when the Ruler came one morning, enormously flabby and flauntin’ it at every step, the pervert couldn’t stop blushin’! For Billy’s shock, neither could he. So did they become accomplices, secret friends bound by a common desire.

But gettin’ his pleasure from Robin, who hated every second of it? Damn, that was a new lowest of the low! Billy’s neck ached with strain as he did his best not to look, but he wouldn’t give in! “Forgive the question, partner,” he dropped it, hopin’ to divert the talk, “but if ya’re stuffin’ down so much food, how are ya not as fat as that priest boy?”

Robin clicked his tongue. “I’ve been burning off the calories. When I am not gulping down food here, I’m in the gym to work out. Doesn’t stop flab from piling.” Billy squinted, lookin’ for it, and caught himself. “But it does help.”

With some vigor, Billy’s line of sight moved higher—towards Robin’s arms. True, they were meatier, fillin’ the short sleeves of the shirt. Robin wasn’t a stick before, either, but now he was more powerful. Gorwin’. Maybe his legs had also bulked, but Billy didn’t wanna risk lookin’ at that gut again.

“Of course, after the training, my stomach is starving, and I chew down more food to make up for it. You should see how much EMIYA brings me then.”

Even more? Billy gulped—and before his brain could call out the horrible, horrible idea, he spoke. “Do ya need a partner for this job, partner? Someone to help with the trainin’ and to keep your appetite under control? Because ya can rely on me!”

“You know, that might help. Thanks a bunch!” Robin’s relieved smile stabbed Billy’s heart like a dagger. “Do you want to try it once I’m done here?”

“Sorry!” Billy jumped outta his chair. He wasn’t goin’ to ditch Robin—he owed up to his offers. “I’ve gotta do something else first!” Namely, one red Archer needed a few bullet wounds and a lecture on personal boundaries. “But tomorrow I’ll help ya!” And hopefully, he wouldn’t end distracted by that amazing, achy, hungry gut.

---

“Damn that EMIYA!” Billy shouted as he collapsed on his bed. “And that purple wretch, too! When did they form their party?” His talk with the red Archer a day ago had gone to the dogs. That man had balls of steel—no matter how many threats or bullets Billy wasted, EMIYA did not budge. And B.B. had hidden in her little mouse hole, without a trace of her anywhere in Chaldea. Billy couldn’t find her, no matter how many rooms he checked—as the stupid chef had told him.

“No whiff of the Master, either,” Billy grumbled. Da Vinci had promised to deal with the unruly pair, but B.B. would stop only if her so precious senpai ordered her. And unless she lifted the curse before breakfast tomorrow, Billy woulda to help Robin with the training again. The pillow muffled his screams. His heart woulda exploded in his chest after watchin’ his partner once. God help him if he had to see him bustle those weights while his gut shifted and gurgled. He hadn’t stopped glarin’ at the packed sphere once, paying attention and squirmin’ whenever it swayed. Robin’s unintended teasin’—him drummin’ over the sphere every once in a while—made it even worse. Billy barely had survived today; tomorrow would kill him!

Even worse, he said some calories stuck as fat. Did that mean an ever-flabbier Robin with a softenin’ gut? How much feedin’s would it take ‘till it became an enormous tank of lard; ‘till it sagged over his deck and he needed someone’s help to jerk himself off? It would jiggle whenever he took a step, it would flop over his shorts—hell, Robin woulda to pull them under his belly! His shirt would hide nothing; nay, it would show off those juicy curves.

Billy’s crotch twitched. No! He clenched fists, his nails diggin’ in his palms. “I’m not beatin’ it to Robin, no matter how smokin’ hot he becomes!” There were boundaries to those things! He rolled, now lyin’ on his back. His dick was makin’ a tent in his pants. The movement only made it rub against the fabric, and the pleasure flared up even more. “Self-control, self-control, self-control!” Billy repeated like a mantra. A burnin’, powerful feelin’ arose in his chest.

Would Robin gain love handles, too? They’d be juicy and plump, always to be grabbed when there was a chance. Billy imagined squeezin’ them in his fingers, the flab jigglin’. Would they push his shirt even higher, so large that nothing would cover them? And when Robin tugged it relentlessly, his gut would shake. The threads would strain and groan, but the clothes wouldn’t fit over that engorged mass. When he gained moobs…

Billy shut his eyes. His body was tense and feverishly hot. Sweat was burnin’ his forehead, and the flame in his dick pulsated through him. He shouldn’t think about those two swayin’, soft sacks of flab. He shouldn’t imagine carresin’ them, kissin’ them. Precum moistened his underpants.

“Who knew: I’m a pervert enough to do it!” Gruntin’, Billy peeled off his pants and pulled down his briefs, freein’ his dick. “Only this time!” He snatched the lube from his nightstand—his hands trembled and almost dropped it on the floor—and generously coated his fingers. “Do yer fuckin’ worst, libido!” he swore and began pumpin’ his cock. The first touch rustled through his body, a torrent of pleasure to drown him. No, oh no, oh, oh, oh yes, yes! He was breathin’ heavily, and his hand didn’t stop.

Robin’s moobs would show under his shirt—nay, so large that he couldn’t fit clothes over them. He’d parade around naked, a total show-off, his gut, and moobs, and love handles, and delicious, delicious backrolls for the whole world to ogle. The shirt would be a mere piece of fabric, stretched and useless, good only for hidin’ his shoulders—if even that!

Billy tried to hold his moans—keep at least that dignity. His insides were coilin’, his muscles were shiverin’. His dick stiffened more, and he drew every movement long until his body woulda broken under the strain of lust. He gulped the moan down, opened his lips for a hasty breath, and closed them immediately, the pant havin’ built up in his throat.

Robin would become a titan of a man, his torso a lardy mountain. He would carry all the weight, his freakin’ strong body put to good use. Those powerful arms he boasted an entire day—that was a start because he would also swell with packed flesh. His shorts would tear around his tights, the veiny mass crackin’ them apart. But he would pay no attention to that. The curse would drive him to eat and eat, glut himself more, unable to fight the thrall of the food. He would complain of his growth but never resist because he couldn’t—not even when he outgrew the chairs, the doors, the halls.

His stomach would be stuffed at all times, yet callin’ for more. What if Billy brought him snacks to the gym? Robin went only there and to the dinin’ hall. What if they shortened that time? What if he did not stop fillin’ his gut, gorgin’ himself, the sphere bloatin’ out of proportions, dominatin’ his already enormous frame? Then he would explode into more impossible, more gargantuan sizes. There would be no end, no control, only expansion and flab, and muscle…

Billy arched his back. A desperate, loud moan—almost a hiss—left his lips before he could bite it down. He was thrusting more rapidly, hastily, desperate for that release. If only he coulda Robin with himself, to have his way him.

If he were there—small, almost invisible next to the giant that was Robin, he would cheer. He would rejoice as the other Archer lifted heavier and heavier weights in the gym, his muscles so swole that they would tear the skin open. Veins would run under the sweaty flesh, visible over the bloated mass. And when Robin wanted to eat… Oh, boy, Billy would make sure he packed away his fill. He would push the meals in the other Archer’s mouth, rub his belly to provide comfort, and squish the flab under his fingertips, enjoy it as the gut would seemingly grow under his touch. Or, it would be tight and heavy, stretched to its limits, angry and protestin’ the constant stuffings. But it would be so used to the fullness and the cursed hunger that Robin wouldn’t handle a second without bein’ stuffed. It would be like an addiction—nay, it would be one—to eatin’, to blowin’ up, to growin’ fatter.

And if Robin enjoyed it as much as Billy, then the blond would have no problem givin’ some bonus help. He closed his eyes and imagined Robin’s dick in his hand. The massive roll of his gut pressed into the fingers, and as Billy stroked the cock, it would groan and roar, so overstuffed that it could burst open. He could also ride that massive ball, rub his member all over it while pushin’ caloric meals into Robin’s stomach. Or he could push his shaft between the two lardy ass checks and fuck Robin!

There, almost there! Billy was pantin’, out of breath, hot as coals. His ghosting fingertips ran across the red tip of his dick. It was an itchy, sudden touch that quickly ended. He hoped to prolong that sick, depraved cravin’ for as long as possible. Thoughts of relief were pushed to the corners of his mind.

Once their efforts came to an end, Robin would be huge, too large for his puny clothes. He would march around Chaldea, showin’ off his naked, heavy, thick body. The muscles would sway, the veins of his biceps and calves would shift. His enormous gut—so enormous that it would fall over his erect dick—would gurgle at every step: either achy and overfilled or not full enough and needin’ more. Robin would tend to it, gloat, relish in his new size and consume even more food. He would feed himself further into titanic sizes. Control would slip out of his mind. After gorgin’ himself, he’d be so horny, so desperate, that he’d pound Billy straight there in the canteen.

Cum shot outta Billy’s cock over his hand, and he was moanin’. His sheets were sticky as the white liquid soaked them., but he kept squeezin’ the last few lustful drops. The heat was sated, the achin’ hole in his chest filled for the time bein’. But, he realized with newfound clarity, tomorrow it would set him on fire again. And the thought of Robin attackin’ the filled tables like a beast sent a shiver down his dick again.

---

“Almost… There!” Robin grunted, gritting his teeth, and pushed up the barbell. His arms stretched, his large muscles expandin’ to their full size and squeezin’ again. His sleeves were already rolled as high as possible, not fittin’ around his swollen arms but tried to creep up more. Sweat was glistenin’ on the skin as it rippled - a proof of the effort he was puttin’ in. His round pecs—as big as apples—flexed, hard despite the flab that covered them. They swayed rhythmically as the weight moved up and down, plusatin’, tensin, and relaxin’: one, two; one, two. Billy’s eyes traced them as they shook, and he could see himself gropin’ them, holdin’ that powerful flesh… “And done!” Robin’s proud shout snapped out Billy. But it was for the worse because the huge Archer sittin’ on the bench let the barbell in place and scratched the curve of his gut, which rolled over his waist.

Fidgetin’ and tremblin, about as helpful as a snowball in a summer gunfight, Billy was warmin’ a nearby bench. He had been comin’ every day, unable to tear eyes away from the clothes that seemed to shrink around Robin’s growin’ body. The gym trips didn’t make him any smaller—especially when, after every workout session, Robin gorged himself until his bloated stomach couldn’t fit a morsel more. Then, he’d complain he was so full, drag out long moans and poke the stuffed sphere. As he sated his gluttony, it distended, pushed out more, and sometimes—a hot thrill cut through Billy—rested on his lap.

Billy bit his lips, strugglin’ not to slip a hand down in his pants right at the gym. He rubbed his tights together. His face was sizzlin’ like fire, and his breaths were rushed, unruly, desperate. He shook his head, hopin’ to clear the fantasy, but choose the damned best worst moment.

Robin jumped on the floor. The shockwave rocked the bench. Didn’t the equipment also rattle? Billy swallowed and the gulp lodged in his throat. He was shiverin’, truly feverish, trying’ to look away from the handsome behemoth. He knew what was comin’, but his neck refused to budge.

“Let’s go to the canteen.” Robin grinned lazily, his chubby cheeks jigglin’ a little. “After this stress, I should eat something.” He drew fingers over his exposed belly. Hadn’t he started touchin’ it more often—almost as if he got his kicks outta it.

No, no, no! Don’t think like that!

“Wasn’t the plan that you stopped stuffin’ your face, partner?” Billy wanted to stall—he was a god-damned coward. Once he saw Robin gulpin’ down food like there was no tomorrow, all pretenses of holdin’ back would fly straight outta the window. “Ya sure it’s not the purple hag’s doin’?” He didn’t know if he had the power to stand up without his legs meltin’ in a puddle.

Robin crossed arms behind his back, the mass of his bulky arms and forearms pressin’ together. “Does it matter much? I mean, I am not sprouting a pigtail, right? I was worried B.B. was literal with her curse.” He glanced down at his belly. “I can get used to some flab.”

Billy’s small body clenched as he struggled to hold back a moan. Robin was already a damn-fine lady-killer—in that case, a bloke-killer. His awesome, broad shoulders led to beefy arms, as thick as tree trunks - as possible capable of tearin’ them outta the ground. A soft layer of flab—quiverin’ unless Robin flexed—bloated their size further. But if Billy dragged fingers over ‘em, he’d feel the packed bulk underneath. Those powerful monsters could—a hiss of pleasure pinned him to the bench—snap him in two. Robin’s muscles were top-notch, too: wider than his arms, shaped by constant bustin’ at the gym and the very act of carryin’ his bulk. They were veiny, ripped, and made the puny summer shorts stretch and ride up under the curve of Robin’s gut.

That lardy overhand attracted attention without fail. It was an enormous sphere of pure fat. The hidden muscles kept it in a firm, massive, fat ball. Robin still tugged the shirt around his oversize middle; the buttons ached and shook, hangin’ for their dear life. His poor shorts fared even worse, trapped between the titanic tights and the blobby belly, strained into a thin line of fabric. What if, while Robin was packin’ away food, it snapped in two, no longer survivin’ the pressure? Would he shrug it off and keep eatin’, too gluttonous to consider it? Would he glut himself, his pecs—round, sightly saggin’, the perfect ending touch to his appearance—wobblin’ at the fast movements?

“Hey! Are you coming?” Robin asked. He had turned his back towards Billy. The shirt rested well above his soft, squeezable love handles, which trembled with each step. His bloated ass cheeks pressed together, foldin’ as he walked. The shorts barely covered them—and if Robin kept feedin’ himself and expandin’, no clothing would fit him. When the threads snapped, and his body exploded outta them.

Billy’s mouth opened wide, and he stood up, followin’ their hypnotizin’ sway. It wouldn’t come to that, would it? Robin had more self-control, did he not? But he had no problem with growin’ fatter—and if his eager steps were an indication, he could even await it. Billy’s imagination quickly did its job, paintin’ a pic of Robin, who was eatin’ no longer with resignation but with cheer. He would adore the way his flab folded or his muscles swelled. He would rejoice more the less he could see under the dome of his girth, proudly lift even heavier barbells and dumbbells and eat his weight in food.

“Come, or you’ll miss everything!” Robin shouted from the hall, turnin’ so fast that ripples spread through the entire mass of his engorged gut.

“I’m comin’, partner!” With an uneasy waddle, Billy followed him. Had he found out? Could he? As if he was a mutt with a yanked chain, the blond rushed down to the canteen. His brain could wait. Robin was right; Billy needed to see every second of that show.

---

Billy’s legs dragged him towards the canteen sluggishly, weakly. He hesitated at every step, pulled back, and then minced forward. What if someone saw him? He had to scram as fast as possible, get far from the dinin’ room. His dick was throbbin’ in his pants—and they were so tight that the whole Chaldea musta noticed. Hot sweat soaked him to the bone: anxiety, arousal, and anticipation. He had clenched his hands and mustered whatever willpower was left to him. “I’m not beatin’ it in the halls,” he murmured in the lonely corridor. “No matter how much I’m burnin’, no matter if it’ll drive me insane, no matter that Robin’s embraced piggin’ out and when I enter the canteen, I’ll find him stuffin’ himself sick.” Each second was painfully long-drawn torture as the twitches of pleasure set him ablaze.

“Can you walk faster, please? You partner”—the voice was so heavy with sarcasm that Billy could see it drippin’—“is inside and has already begun. If you arrive too late, he will have finished.”

“EMIYA!” Billy crouched in his shootin’ position. The tight pants rubbed his sensitive cock, and he felt himself edgin’ closer to release. He tried to hide the dick with his hands but brushed its tender head. “You’ve got a lotta courage,” he tried to push away that shameless joy, “showin’ up before my eyes.”

“Keep the rage for later. The curse would have failed if he did not enjoy it.” The unfazed Archer passed by him. Then, he stopped, glanced around shiftily, and turned back. “And you don’t have to thank me for this. Honestly. The grand plan was someone else’s.”

“I’m gonna give you all the gratitude you deserve, no worries!” Billy reached for his gun, but EMIYA slipped past him and disappeared.

He coulda chased the Archer, but there were more pressing things.

With the red vermin gone, Billy opened the doors and entered the canteen. He moved through empty chairs. The lively hall was now ghastly empty, not a sound to distract him.

Only one table was occupied—or, more accurately, three tables put together as a one. There was no other way the oversize feast woulda fitted. Potatoes, dazzlin’ with melted butter; meats with sauce as thick as syrup; mountains of golden, crispy fried rice—those were a few of the dishes, reversed for the special guest. And he was wolfin’ down a huge plate of appetizers along with a large bottle of soda to keep him company, the same ol’ grin plastered on his face. “Hey, partner!” he spoke, his mouth full. “I would say that you can pick whatever you like, but, uh, I have the feeling this is all for me.”

The flame of passion erupted into Billy. He bit his lips, and his hand reached for his cock, stroking it through the pants. It brought some short-lived relief, but then it rose higher—like a wave which would drown him if he stopped. “S-so,” he hoped to move the topic to anything else, “you were serious ‘bout enjoyin’ the curse, partner?”

The enormous gulp traveled down Robin’s throat. “How does it look to you?” He polished away the last few bites and set the plate on a pile of empty ones. When did he have the time? Billy had come ten minutes after him! How fast was Robin gorgin’ himself?

“If the red Archer will be my chef, I might get a use out of him.” Robin moved onto a juiced steak with bewitchin’ aroma and dug straight in, lickin’ the splotches of grease that stained his lips. “It’s not a weak start, but I bet I can do better. There’s a lot more to eat, after all. Do you want to watch?”

If Billy had any sense left, he should have realized the so clear teasin’. But he could only think about Robin’s huge body, about his gut and ass and bottomless hunger. Squirmin’, he nodded.

“Then you can sit here.” Robin patted the space on the bench near himself. “It might be a little tight, but a small guy like you can fit.”

Small. As if in a trance, Billy walked and plopped down, squeezin’ his body as close as possible to Robin’s flab. His left side was sinkin’ in the lard, feelin’ the warmth which the oversize Archer radiated. Those temptin’ rolls bulged over the smaller man, spillin’ over his lithe frame. He was like a mouse next to the engorged mountain that was Robin. “When did ya began enjoyin’ it, partner? Didn’t ya say ya will be stayin’ fit ‘n’ trim?” His hand hadn’t stopped runnin’ over his cock; how the hell had Robin not noticed?

“No, I did not want to be a pig. I thought B.B. would make me a large pink animal, but it seems she hadn’t been literal. Besides”—Robin stopped his feast to grip his flexed biceps, stretchin’ his fingers to fit around it—“this is quite far from a fat pig. I would have ended this earlier, but I had fun playing with you.

“You… On purpose?” Billy couldn’t bear it anymore.

“Why else? Did you think someone missed the way you were staring at me?”

It was as if a bomb had exploded in Billy’s chest. He shoulda been ashamed, distraught that his dirty secret was out in the open. But instead, he felt bliss, utter and true bliss. Robin was on the same page. Robin was on the same page! “Then, partner… Can I?” He was tremblin’, barely able to speak.

“Do whatever you want. You’ve earned it.”

Billy jumped onto him, perchin’ himself atop the blobby gut. His face leaned forward, and he kissed Robin’s revealed moobs. He pressed his lips over the pecs. His face was enveloped in the soft chub, and his tongue caressed them from the perky nipples and up the curve, glidin’ over the muscle underneath.

He began grindin’ against Robin’s belly. The flab engulfed his cock. As Billy thrust into it, his dick not penetratin’ deep enough to fell the muscle, it shook around. Those jiggles made him throb with pleasure, arch his back, and squeeze—squeeze all he could.

Robin’s huge arms were the nearest. Billy’s hands slid over them, feelin’ the muscle ripple. The veins shifted with each movement and… Was Robin still stuffin’ himself?

The fat sphere pushed out, givin’ in less and less. Robin’s gut was growin’, fillin’ up with food, and he was bound to end even flabbier; even bigger—so impossibly enormous that Billy would be but a speck next to him. He’d be so tiny next to that solid wall of flab and flesh and beef!

Jizz soaked Billy’s underpants. The relief—the final relief—crashed over him like a wave and let out an unabashed moan in Robin’s chest. His warm, frantic pantin’ made the skin tingle.

And he rose his head, and his red, messy, wild smirk met a proud grin.

“For such a small guy, you’re pretty intense,” Robin said. He was breathing heavily, his belly pushing in and out. “Do you think you can handle a round number two?”

The blond, ruffled outlaw nodded, his body movin’ before his brain had a chance to react. “You betcha, partner!”

[middleofnowhere92]

@imnotginnyweasly requested Ty Luko for my ATLA Valentine’s Day one shots I got so excited to write my fav OTP my hand slipped and it’s gonna be a two shot. Chapter two will be up soon. 

The Worst Morning After (Chapter 1)

Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ty Lee/Zuko (Avatar), Ty Lee & Zuko (Avatar) Additional Tags: Morning After, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern Era Summary: Ty Lee and Zuko wake up together. It goes downhill from there.

Read on ao3 or below the cut

Notes: It might seem implied that they had sex, but we'll find out if anything happened in chapter 2.

Ty Lee blinked awake as the sun starting to filter in through the blinds. Well, she tried to blink awake. Her mascara had effectively glued her eye shut. She sniffed the air. This didn't smell like her Bath and Body Works air freshener. This place smelled like mahogany, maybe? She rubbed at her eyes and was finally able to get them open. She glanced around. Yeah, she definitely hadn't made it home last night. The bedroom was sparse. A few traditional Fire Nation art works hung on the walls. At least this guy had a clean room, or was it a girl? Geez, she must have had a few last night. Well, either way, it didn’t really matter. It was time to go. She scanned the bedroom one more time. Her dress was on the floor by the door, but where in the Spirits were her shoes...

The person shifted next to her in bed. Shit! She had missed her window to escape. Ty Lee was pretty good with people, but sometimes she just wanted to hit and run. She wasn’t in the mood to tell her life story. She should just leave now before they fully woke up. The only problem was her dress was all the way over there… She chewed at her lip trying to figure a way out of this.

Suddenly, the other person got up and out of bed. She screwed her eyes shut to feign sleep. She heard their footsteps walk away, followed by a door shutting and the shower turning on. Perfect! This is the opportunity she needed.

She bounced up and out of bed, the cool air making her very awake. She scurried over to her dress. She picked up the pink glittery number and started to wiggle in. She forgot how tight this stupid thing was. She bounced up and down, the floor boards creaking, as she pulled the dress over her thighs. The fabric finally bent to her will and she was able to pull it all the way up. She bit her lip as she twisted her arm in an inhumane way to pull the zipper up.

She pulled and pulled, but the zipper wouldn’t budge. She sucked in as much as she could and it finally pulled up. She spun around looking for her pink glittery heels. They had to be in here somewhere. She glanced to the other person’s side of the bed, but nope. There was just a pair of black jeans crumpled on the floor.

Okay, it was time for her to go further into this person’s living place in her quest. She pressed her ear to the door for any sign of roommates. She heard nothing, so she took a deep breath and opened the door as slowly and quietly as she could. She poked her head out, looking each way before opening the door fully.

She tip toed out into the apartment, scanning for the pink glittery shoes. They were six inch heels for Spirits’ sake. They shouldn’t be that hard to find, especially in this neutral decor situation. This apartment was actually really nice and modern. A little too blah for her taste, but definitely nice. She slunk through the kitchen and hurriedly crossed to the living room, when she spotted them next to the couch. She grinned gleefully as she hopped on one foot as she shoved the other in her heel.

Once both heels were on, she decided this was the perfect opportunity for escape. She stepped on the balls of her feet to avoid her heels hitting the floor. She made a plan to call an Uber as soon as she got in the hallway, except… She huffed her bangs out of her face. Where in the spirits was her phone?

Okay, she just had to be quick. Get it and get out. She hurriedly teetered in her heels across the apartment looking for her phone case covered in pink rhinestones. It had to be around here somewhere. She crammed her small hands in the couch, not feeling anything. She groaned, but scampered through the kitchen, looking over the counter top. She was about to head back to the bedroom, when she turned back to the kitchen, grabbed a bag of fireflakes and then continued with her mission. She could never pass on fireflakes.

She stepped in the bedroom and narrowed her eyes in search of her phone. She shook out the comforter, but no luck. She picked up the pillows, but couldn’t find anything. She looked on the desk, side of the bed, but came up empty. Finally she decided to look under the bed.

She wiggled under the bed. At least it was clean under here too. She saw the glimmer of her bedazzled phone even in the darkness under the bed. She reached her arm out and she hit her phone, sending it sliding across the hardwood floor. She wiggled further under the bed stretching her arm out, if she just had longer fingers. She made grabby hands, but the phone stayed just out of her reach. She was so focused on getting her phone, she was startled when someone cleared their throat and in a raspy voice asked, “Uh, do you need help?” She let out a light scream at the fright, her head bouncing up and hitting the bed frame.

“Oww!” She groaned. This person had the audacity to snort at her predicament. She glowered, “Are you laughing at me?” They answered breathily, “No…” as they failed to keep their laughter out of their voice. She glared up at them through the mattress. They offered, “Uh, do you need me to pull you out?” She rolled her eyes, “Absolutely not! I can-” As she shimmied out from her under the bed, her extremely tight dress chose that exact moment to rip from the bottom to the middle of her back.

As she heard the loud tear of the fabric, she realized what happened and wanted to burst into tears. This by far was the worst, most awkward, humiliating morning after she had ever endured. She let her head thunk against the hardwood floor,  wishing it would swallow her up. It’s not like she had any dignity left anyway. She sniffled and Raspy Voice interjected, “Oh, um don’t cry. It’s okay. We’ll get you out.” Couldn’t they just be quiet? She didn’t need to be reminded that there was a witness to the least graceful moment of her life.

She shoved herself out of the bed. When she got out she huffed and sat on the floor, her back against the bed. She glanced around, but the other person wasn’t there. They stepped back into the room and Ty Lee tried her best not to stare. He gave her a small smile and handed her a red towel, “Uh, here you can, uh, shower if you want.” He went to the dresser, “You can wear some of my stuff, it might be a little big, but, um-” “It’ll be better than this right?” She asked as she wrapped the towel around her waist to cover the giant rip in her dress.

He gave her the same tight lipped smile, “Uh, yeah.” He gestured to the door off his bedroom, “Bathroom’s over there.” She thanked him and then slunk into the bathroom to escape the awkwardness. Well, he by far was the prettiest person she had ever gone home with. Sure he had a large scar over the left side of his face, but he was really really good looking. In the brief glimpse that she had gotten, she had noticed how tall and built he was. His wet black hair had been thrown up in a top knot,  a few pieces hanging down in his face. He had just been wearing sweats and a v-neck, but you could still see the muscular build underneath and the tattoos that crawled down his arms.

She cleared her head of the thoughts and cranked the shower on, turning the water as hot as possible. She looked in the steamy mirror to see her gray eyes surrounded in smudged glitter and eyeshadow, giving her the appearance of a raccoon in drag. Her braid was frizzy and her baby hairs were a mess. She looked like shit. Guess she wouldn’t be seeing this guy again. She dropped the towel, then her dress and undid her braid.

She stepped in the hot water, letting it scald her. She closed her eyes, feeling the hot water wash away her sins from the night before. She leaned her head back letting her thick hair become absorbed and heavy with water. She turned, scrubbing the mess of makeup off her face. She stayed in the shower until the hot water ran out, attempting to avoid the inevitable.

She reluctantly stepped out of the shower, wrapping the towel around herself. She put some tooth paste on her finger and got rid of the taste of last night. She poked her head out and found the bedroom empty, but a black pair of boxer briefs, a worn Blink 182 t-shirt, a black Thrasher hoodie and a pair of black sweats were laid out on the bed. At least he was kind of nice, she thought to herself. She dried herself and hung the towel up. She heard voices on the other side of the door, one being the hot guy from earlier and the other sounded like a woman on speaker phone.

The girl asked, “So how’d it go last night Sparky? Finally get some?” The guy snorted, “Can we not talk about this?” His friend brushed it off, “Give me something juicy! It’s literally the only reason I called you.”  The guy sounded like he was shuffling around in the kitchen as he responded, “I thought you were gonna let me know whose place we were doing your Anti-Valentine's day at later.” The other person answered, “Well duh, your place obviously.” Raspy Voice answered, “Spirits no! There’s pink glitter all over the place.” The other voice answered, “Glitter! What in the Spirits did you take home with you last night?” The guy awkwardly cleared his throat and said, “The line’s breaking up! I can’t hear you. Gotta go. Bye!”

Ty Lee bit her lip to keep her laugh in. He seemed like a nice enough guy. His words reminded her that right, today was Valentine's Day. The sun had barely risen, but this day was even worse than the Valentine's day that Haru had broken up with her. Last night, she had gone out for a fun night with Aang and Suki to forget that they were single, but it had somehow spiraled into the disaster of a situation she was currently in. She shook her head and put on his borrowed clothes. She finger combed her thick, impossibly long hair, but she didn’t have the energy to attempt to braid it right this minute. She braced herself and opened his bedroom door.  His back was turned to her as he opened and closed kitchen cabinets.

Even though she hadn’t made any noise, he seemed to sense her. He called over his shoulder, “I got your phone out from under the bed. It’s on the charger.” He pointed to it with an empty cereal box, that he then tossed in the recycling. She bounced over and saw the many, many missed calls and text messages from Suki and Aang. She groaned thinking about all the questions she would have to deal with the next time she saw them. And she spotted her bag of fireflakes from earlier, perched right next to her phone. She snuck the little bag into the hoodie pocket.

The guy looked over at her and asked, “Wanna come get breakfast with me?” She looked at him wide eyed like a deer startled by a hunter, “Oh, I don’t want to intrude.” She couldn’t possibly go out in public like this . She was already horrified that he had seen her without make up, looking like a half dead zombie. She couldn’t have anyone else witness how utterly disgusting she looked. He just shrugged, “I was gonna go anyway, since I have nothing to eat here.”

Oh. So he didn’t really want her to come. That was fine. She couldn't blame him. She tried to answer in a nonchalant tone, “I ordered my Uber. I should really head home.” He turned to finally look at her. She had never felt so self conscious, his golden eyes seemed to be able to see every flaw in her appearance, as he took in her disheveled form. She became weirdly embarrassed as he glanced down at her pink glitter painted toes. He walked away and answered, “My half sister left some crocs here. They’ll probably fit you.” He came back holding a pair of white crocs that did actually look like they would fit.

She slipped into them and his oversized long sweatpants cascaded over them. She looked up at him sheepishly, feeling a pink blush tint her cheeks, “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She unplugged her phone and scooped up her heels while he grabbed a burgundy hoodie. She followed him out of the apartment and down the stairs. The cold February air gave Ty Lee a chill. She tucked her long damp hair into the hood and pulled it up.  He glanced at her, “Oh, fuck. Sorry. I should have given you a hat or something.”

The two stood there in awkward silence. Ty Lee turned staring off into the distance praying this Uber would get here soon. Couldn’t this guy just walk wherever he was going and leave her to sulk in her walk/ride of shame?

Thankfully, the Spirits took pity on her and her ride pulled up. She gave Hot Guy a small nod, not wanting to really acknowledge him and her embarrassment,  and then got in. As the driver pulled away, he began chattering about his cabbage farming business. Ty Lee stared out the window, trying to forget this terrible morning. She opened the bag of fireflakes for comfort as they got further and further away from the scene of her horrifying morning.

[yespolkadotkitty]

Breathless, pt 9

Part 8 here

The choppy ferry ride would usually have soured your stomach, if it wasn’t already twisted in hard knots from what you’d learned from Bill Torres.

You leaned over the guard rail, watching the water move beneath the small boat. Conrad’s arm was warm around you and you leaned into him, drawing strength from his silent, solid form.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Penny for them?”

You worried the edge of one nail, eyes on the horizon, the line where the blue, blue sea met the blue, blue sky. It should have been paradise, and it might have been if not for all the questions swimming in your heart, and your head.

“Ben might hate me.”

“Only one way to find out, darling.” He squeezed you to him, and you thought that it might be nice to have just one more night together. To lose yourself in his body, the little sighs and gasps he made when he came, the stormy blue-grey of his eyes.

“I guess so. We’ve come this far.”

Conrad turned you to face him, the wind whipping hungrily at your flyaway hair. He adjusted the scarf, Ben’s scarf, that you now wore around your neck. It was hot for such a scarf, but it still smelled of your brother and you couldn’t let it go, at least, not yet.

“We will get the answers we need, I swear it.”

Your heart clenched. Conrad had said we, although truly what connection did he have to Ben? None. You were simply paying him to watch your back, although you both knew it had become so much more than that.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Conrad tipped your chin up gently and kissed you. Not a kiss of passion but one of tenderness and comfort and reassurance. All things you needed in spades right now.

The ferry docked and you and Conrad, along with about two dozen other passengers, all in tourish garb, disembarked. You walked up a short covered passage and emerged, blinking in the sunlight, on to the concrete covered jetty, a huge sculpture of the letters KETAM in bright colours greeting you.

The smell of roasting meat wafted on to the jetty from the harbourside restaurant. A cook could be seen frying something in a wok behind the counter, flames licking high at the base of the metal pan.

“Hungry?” Conrad asked.

“Not really. But I guess we need to eat. Not sure when we’ll get the chance again?”

“Now you’re thinking like an operative.”

His words made something clench inside you. Was this his life, every day? Even though it seemed like you’d been on Ben’s trail forever, for you this was a short slice of your life. But for James Conrad…

He tugged your hand. “Come on.”

The queue for the shack-style snack bar was short, and as the scents of frying fish, soy, sesame and crunchy water chestnuts wrapped around you, your stomach growled in hunger rather than sickness.

Conrad ordered two portions of Nasi Goreng and two cans of Sprite, and after only a few minutes, your order was up. Conrad led you to an empty table. Sweat trickled down your back as you sat, Conrad passing you a disposable fork. You dug in, the tamarind dancing on your tongue, the fat prawns juicy and sweet in your mouth.

You both ate methodically for long moments as the ferry port jostled with passengers making the trip back to the mainland. It would be getting late soon, you’d need to find Ben and Trish soon or get a room together at one of the small hotels on Ketam.

“So where do we start?” you asked, once you’d taken the edge off your sudden hunger.

Conrad took a long drink of Sprite. His throat worked as he swallowed, his jaw scruffy, and desire pooled, low in your body.

“You said his mobile phone isn’t working?”

“It rings dead.”

“But what about the phone number of his girlfriend?”

You stared at him for a second. “I wish I’d thought of that!” You dug your phone from your pocket, turned it on. The battery was doing okay, but you’d worked hard to conserve it, use it as little as possible. “Not sure if I have Trish’s number…..”

You started to bring up your contacts, but then a text came through. It was from Trish’s number.

If you’re in Ketam like we think you are, come to the Buddhist Temple across the bridge from Hua Homestay, at midnight.

You read it a couple times yourself, then out loud to Conrad.

His brow furrowed. “What do you think?”

“We have to go,” you said immediately. “I have to know. You needn’t come.”

He scoffed, covering your free hand with his. “I’m not leaving you. What do you think of me?”

The backs of your eyes burned, and you looked away. “I think you’re a soldier for hire who has no long term ties to me, and who I’ll have to say goodbye to when this is over.” You pushed the food away, no longer hungry.

Conrad whispered your name, and you eventually caved to the urge to look up into his face. His blue eyes were dark, pupils blown. His hair curled messily over his forehead, and his mouth - that kissable mouth - had drawn into a grim line.

“You know it’s more than money,” he murmured urgently. “You feel it, too.”

Excitement prickled up your spine. You feel it, too. Did he, truly?

He stood suddenly, tugging you up by the hand. “Let’s go.”

“We have hours until midnight.”

“Not to the temple.” He started walking purposefully. “To the nearest hotel. So that if you are planning on leaving me, I can give you something to remember me by.”

The desire that had pooled in your belly flamed into a bonfire, and you matched his quickened pace.

Tagging:

@brokenthelovely​ @lady-loki-ren​ @hopelessromanticspoonie​ @just-the-hiddles​ @villainousshakespeare​ @myoxisbroken​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @amarisyousei​ @wiczer​ @peacope​ @jessiejunebug​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @lotus-eyedindiangoddess​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @xxloki81xx​ @arch-venus25​

[fiction-in-my-blood]

Switching Sides: Part 4 (HLITF)

if anyone possibly wants to get on a tag list I’d be happy to make one

👉 @theshove 👈

If you wanna catch up, Part 3 is right here! Happy reading :)

Premise: Growing up in a life of crime in a Japanese mafia, Atsuko Motomori has seen enough injustice to last her a lifetime. To try and give back to the universe her family has taken so much from, she dreams of being a detective from a young age. Her twin, sharing her disgust for her father and many uncles, just wants an ordinary life away from the crime, paing and suffering. Instead, she wants to be in the spotlight with the soft notes she makes with her cello. In their escape of 2015, on their coming of age birthday, they must split ways, never to be together ever again. If one was found, they didn’t want the other dragged down with them. Atsuko, having changed her name and appearance as best she can without a scalpel, sets off to start her life of car chases and arrests.

Four years in a seemingly dead-end police station in the middle of nowhere, being passed over time after time for promotion, Atsuko finally gets a shot at her dream, having been sent to an academy for the best candidates in the country by her boss who had always kept an eye out for her. After discovering her boss may have made her bite off more than she could chew, Atsuko must become the slave of a dominating instructor!? Who so just happens to be the captain of the most famous police unit in Japan? Not to mention a total knockout! Will Atsuko finally achieve her dream? Or will her new instructor put her through the wringer?

Warnings: Language, Reference to sexual activity, Forceful nature.

~~~~~~

A few days after my monstrous task of intensive filing, I was carrying Kaga's documents to class with him. 

"Is this all?" I asked, begging really with all the weigth ripping my arms out of their sockets. I was struggling as it was. 

"You can't carry enough. You'll have to make more trips." He frowned down at me and my seemingly weak for. I certainly wasn’t carrying a light load, but that still didn’t seem to be enough for him.

"I can't, I'll be late for the lecture," I explained, used to his mentality of his jobs being more important than my education. I had settled pretty well into life at the academy. As I thought, most of my aide work was Kaga's grunt work. Filing, organising and documenting investigations. It was pretty interesting to read about what he did in his day to day life.

"You learn more with practice rather than lectures and whatever." Kaga sighed as I hurried to keep up with him. His long legs propelled him further than my shorter ones, so most of the time I was jogging to keep up. I had also gotten accustomed to hearing him say stuff like that. Appreciating that I would rather practice in real-life situations, how was I supposed to practice something I hadn't even learned? Besides, it wasn't like he actually took me out to learn to things! It was infuriating!

As we walked behind the school, Kaga's phone rung. "Ayumu?.. What for?" The call was for an investigation, of course, Kaga wouldn't pick up and continue a conversation if it was for any other reason. Although, it looked like something was wrong by the way the Instructor's brows furrowed. "A stupid screw up like that... you're gonna have to clean up after his ass." Kaga's tone became more agitated the more he spoke. "Yeah, axe that moron. The rest is up to you." The instructor ordered as we neared the building.

"Whoa, yikes. Got it." I could hear Ayumu on the other end of the call, much more relaxed than Kaga's tone was. 

‘He's going to fire some guy?’ Forgetting that the man beside me would have the authority to do something like that, I began to pity the guy who screwed up.

Kaga then ended the call and glanced at me as if just noticing my presence. "Looks like you want to say something." He grunted as we continued walking. 

"Just curious what a guy has to do to piss you off." Jokingly implying he was a whimsical and fun person, the instructor frowned down at me. 

"Guys who can't do anything without causing trouble; get cut." The statement reminded me of my father when he would send his henchmen to ‘cut something loose’. I knew that was code for killing or making sure that no one ever found the trouble maker again. It was difficult to imagine Kaga handling situations in any other way.

"No second chances, huh? What if they could learn from that mistake? I'm sure you've had your fair share of trials." I chatted informally, not meaning any offense by what I said or having a hidden meaning behind it at all, but Kaga seemed to grow a little more tense than he already was. I couldn't help but speak my mind, even if I had the memory of getting punched in the face everytime I did that in my childhood, I did want to know more about him and how his mind worked. I wanted to be able to distinguish this detective from my mob boss of a father. So far, it had been hard to spot the difference.

"And what if that one mistake gets someone killed?" Not realising the guy's mistake was that disastrous, I was a little thrown off by the gritting of Kaga's teeth. I hadn't ever thought of making a catastrophic mistake like that, I never had that much influence. I looked down in embarrassment as Kaga stared me down.

"That naivety is fatal." He sighed once again. "If you're chasing credit for school, I have no need for you. You can just disappear." His statement was harsh and unforgiving, brushing me off like I was some lint from the dryer. The collection of insults snowballing through the past few days helped me get used to his constantly sour mood and I had somehow come to enjoy our conversations- usually. Even though he called me moron every other sentence.

Although, I never thought he could think I was just chasing credit. I frowned, having not earned the trust I thought I was building with the detective as he walked away.

~~~~~~

A few days later, after a night lecture from Instructor Kaga, I headed over to a common room with Naruko. 

"Wow, it's already this late?" My gaze wandered up to the clock on the wall. 

"I'm tired today too..." Naruko sighed out as she collapsed on a couch. "Oh, did you hear? Someone saw Kaga at the entrance!" Naruko’s insistent gossiping finally caught my ear the second she perked up so suddenly. 

"Why's he in the dorms?" I questioned, having never seen him anywhere near the building before. 

"Maybe he's staying for the night? He had the lecture and all." Naruko thought aloud and it seemed as good a reason as any. Even though Instructors were allowed to live in their own homes, they had dorms reserved for them if it was too late for them to return home. 

"Kaga staying here... I feel kinda tense." Our classmates fretted around us as we all sat as leisurely as we could with this new information. 

"We could hear his private conversations!" Our other friend gasped, excited to hear something personal about the captain. 

"Wow! I want to listen too! Come on, Atsuko!" Naruko grabbed my hand, pulling me off the comfortable couch. I had started to feel drowsy and a little homesick.

Not from my home, but from my twin sister. Overnight, I had read somewhere that the name she had undertaken in our new lives had quit the orchestra she worked so hard to be a part of, which is not like her- at all. She's a cellist and only ever wanted to perform in front of the masses. I warned her how dangerous it was to be a public face when we were basically on the run, but she was so stubborn, she said she'd be fine. As we had no way of getting in contact, I couldn't call her and ask if she was okay. The eerie feeling in the pit of my stomach hadn't gone away since I read the article just 24 hours ago.

"Why me?" I panicked as Naruko started dragging me out the door. 

"Aren't you his servant, Motomori?" Our classmate spoke up again and I frowned. 

"Yeah, that's what everyone says."

"Come on, guys, stop it with the rumours! It's not true!" I pouted at their persistent teasing. However, at this point, it was hard to tell. They all seemed to take fiction as fact if the story was juicy enough. 

"But Instructor Kaga is sexy. He may be scary, but that's still a good thing." Naruko finally let go of my hand as we began walking to the cafeteria. 

"Of course you would say that, Sasaki." Our classmen sighed nervously at her preferences in men. 

"Well, he is the most dignified instructor." Trying to deviate our conversation, our other classmate brought the instructor back up. 

‘But he thinks we're all morons’. I frowned to myself, not wanting to dishearten my classmates as they continue to gossip about the captain.

~~~~~~

In the cafeteria, I'm about to line up with my friends when the kind voice of the lunch lady called my name. 

"Could you deliver this midnight snack to Kaga?" She asked, pushing a tray into my hands. 

"Midnight snack..?" I pouted at more servant work I seemed to be doing. 

"His room is on the top floor." Ignoring my frustration, the lunch lady encouraged me to go before I could even decline.

"You're going to be alone with him behind closed doors... at night." Naruko's suggestive comment made me jump as she appeared beside me. 

"Naruko." I sighed loudly at her ability to just appear places. It was good for her detective work, but not so good for my heart. She made me more on-edge than I usually always was.

"You may have to do chores, but you're his favourite and now... you become a woman." 

‘I can't tell if she's being serious or teasing me’, but either way, the comment put me in a higher state of unease. I was already starving and tired, I didn't need this extra work. 

"A forbidden relationship between student and teacher!" She gasped dramatically, one hand flying to her mouth like she had just witnessed something completely shocking. 

"Naruko! Get your head out the gutter, please!" I beg her, not wanting to draw more unwanted attention to the strange relationship I have with the instructor.

"Good luck, Atsuko!" Ignoring my complaining, she ushered me in the direction of the door. 

‘This little excursion is more dangerous than forbidden’. I sulked that I would likely be reprimanded for disturbing my instructor in his private time as I leave the cafeteria. 

~~~~~~

Nervously, I approached the instructor's room with his tray of food in hand. 

‘This is his room’. I sighed before knocking on the door, balancing the tray on my other palm. 

‘Hurry up! I'm hungry.’ Once he doesn't respond through several knockings, I start to wonder what I'm supposed to do. ‘The food's gonna get cold, you slow ass!’ Not having the will power to insult him fully, I looked around for any instructor that might be able to help me. With a heavy sigh, I decided opening the door would be my best option, while announcing my presence again.

Inside the chic apartment, I find no sign of the captain. ‘Oh, thank you, god.’ I sighed in relief of not having to explain myself, setting the tray on the coffee table in the centre of the room. As I stood straight again, I felt a looming presence behind me. 

"What're you doing here?" A scarily familiar voice echoed from that presence and I hesitantly turned around. 

"The lunch lady w-." Before I could explain myself, I saw Instructor Kaga, topless and dressed only in a towel. My heart stopped and I felt my face pale.

"I-I'm sorry, sir. The door was unlocked and-." As I directed my eyes away from his perfectly sculpted body, I gulped. 

‘Wait, I sound like Naruko!’ I complained to myself as I couldn't get the image of Kaga's torso out of my mind. As I had a mini-mental breakdown, Kaga just stared at me. He had clearly just come out of the shower, his hair was still wet. ‘Naruko would be so jealous right now...’

Still shirtless, my instructor passed by me: standing to attention like a soldier in front of a drill sergeant. He then fell to the sofa and began reading documents that had been left on the table. 

‘What do I do? I've never been in a man's room like this? And have him basically naked.’ I continued to freak as I just stood there. ‘He is hot thou- Atsuko! No! Now is not the time.’ I reminded myself as I watched him reading the same type of documents he always reads.

"So?" Pulling me back to earth, Kaga doesn't even bother looking up at me as he continued reading. My throat felt dry, so I cleared it, and the extra attention made my face redden. 

"The, er, the lunch lady in the cafeteria asked me to bring you this." I gestured to the food on the table. He finally looked up at me and nods towards the sofa. 

"Sit." He commanded, but I couldn’t help but want to reject him.

‘I'm too tired to keep my cool right now.’ With my heart beating fast for some strange reason, I was ordered to sit for a second time.

I hurriedly sat down and took half of the documents still sitting on the coffee table. It was strange I could somehow read his mind, and was so ready to help him. "Sort them by year." He added to my task and I couldn't help but want to cry.

‘Why God? Is this because of what Naruko said?’ I judged my inappropriate thoughts on Naruko's forbidden-relationship talk and made a silent prayer that I could make it out of here alive.

"I swear, that damn four eyes should have someone else do this grunt work," Kaga complained to himself, but he keeps doing the work nonetheless. 

"You're not good at sorting documents?" Trying to calm myself down by acting like nothing was different, I decided it might be nice to know a bit more about my instructor.

"Do you think it's my forte?" He didn't seem very amused by my question, the sarcasm evident in his voice. 

"I guess not." I laughed sheepishly, hoping I wouldn't offend him like I had the last time I got a little too inquisitive for his liking. That look of pure irritation was ingrained in my memory. 

"I don't do desk work." He smirked as if it was some sort of achievement to not do half of what your job requires. 

"I thought as much," I replied, too tired to think about what I'm saying. When I saw him scowl at me, I clamed my mouth shut with wide eyes.

Concentrating on sorting the documents, I occasionally watch him grab a piece of food. When I look over, I find he's only eaten the meat. I stifle a chuckle when I realise what a childish action it is to leave his vegetables. I was always reminding my sister to eat well to keep strong. Well, when we were fed vegetables. 

"What?" He frowned. Obviously, I wasn't so good at hiding my amusement. 

"Sorry, sir. But do you not like vegetables?" I showed a nervous smile, worried I've pissed him off beyond return. 

"It's not like I'll die if I don't eat them." He responded nonchalantly and I couldn't help but smile at the vegetables pushed to the edges on the tray.

Having put down his documents, Kaga reached for his dessert. A mousse. Once I realised there are two on the tray, he snapped at me for being so nosey. As he wolfed the food down, I couldn't help but stare. 

"Right, you can leave now." He announced once he was done. To say the least, I was confused with his sudden demand. 

"What? Did you come here expecting more?" He smirked, leaning forward to impose himself on me. The blood rushed to my face as I worried about how stable that towel around his waist was. 

"The lunch lady asked me to bring your food! I wouldn't have come to a man's room otherwise!" I began to panic as he neared.

"Yeah, you don't seem all that comfortable around men." He sighed, leaning back. 

‘Have you ever thought that it's you I'm not comfortable around?’ I complained in my head, too scared of what he would say if I voiced my opinion. But, he wasn't wrong. Every man I've ever been close to, with a select two, have literally almost killed me. I was still uneasy around the guys I used to patrol with when I lived in Nagano.

"I don't see how that's an issue?" Arguing to save my confidence, I raised a brow. Growing up, I never even wanted to look at a man's face, more specifically the men I had seen doing horrible things. I won't say that it has made a prejudice against all, but the men that are more forward don't catch my favour much.

"No good. If we need someone to use seduction for a mission, you'd probably be helpful to that end." 

‘There he goes again, talking about my body like it's a chunk of meat to distract some dragon in a den of gold.’ I couldn't help but get annoyed.

"What're you going to do?" Referring to if that situation ever came up, he glanced over his shoulder to his bed in the corner of the room. Wih me frozen into silence, he lit up a cigarette and sunk back into his sofa.

The moment he does, I heard a phone ringing. I jumped to pick it up, not looking at the caller ID and thanking that I had a distraction. I quickly pulled my flip phone out of my back pocket. Yes, I had a low tech cell phone. It may seem suspicious, but it doesn't have any tracking software like GPS, which smartphones do. Besides, if I needed to ditch it, I wouldn't worry too much about how much it costed to replace.

Flipping the phone open and listening for a few seconds, I pull it away from my ear to see an unknown number pop up on the screen. I'm usually wary of answering unknown, and not to mention blocked, numbers, but with the news of my sister quitting her job, I thought it'd be best if I continue listening. 

"Hello?" I questioned the caller, my stomach tossing and turning. I gulped, not hearing anyone on the other end but a shallow breathing. "Hello?" I called out again, nervousness building higher and higher as I listened for any clue as to who it could have been.

After a few seconds, a voice spoke up. "I was told to call you if my friend went missing." The caller announced and my breathing hitched the same way theirs did when I spoke up. Could this have been my sister trying to send a message? Had she enlisted one of her friends to warn me if anything bad happened to her?

"What are you talking about?" I lowered my voice so that the captain didn't hear me. 

"My friend, she's a cellist. We're meant to go on tour soon, but she suddenly quit and no one's seen her since. She said if anything ever happened, to go to this payphone. Your number was scratched on the bottom of it." The man on the other end, voice shaking with worry, explained. I felt my heart break as reality was thrown right in my face.

"Sir, you need to forget about this number," I commanded, trying to sound annoyed so that my instructor wouldn't get suspicious. 

"Please, she needs help!" The man began to shout, getting angry as well. It broke my heart to abandon someone like this, but if they were connected to my sister, close enough for her to trust them, I didn't need the contact. Who knows who could be tailing him in an effort to somehow find me?

"Sir, I can't do anything for you. Please, leave me alone." Without another word, I cold-heartedly ended the call. My heart shattered as I realised what had happened. My sister had been discovered and was likely kidnapped. She was either dead, or close to it, and there was nothing I could do. ‘

This is why I told you we had to cut ties.’ I gritted my teeth, trying to steal my nerves and not run to her aid. What could I do? I knew no one in the gang and had no way of knowing if she was okay enough to save.

"Hey, moron, you have a job to do," Kaga spoke up behind me, having finished all the food he wanted to eat. I clenched my fist around the folded phone, trying to remind myself that he could have no idea what was going on. I took a deep breath and turned. 

"Sorry, Instructor." I tried my best to smile and slid my phone back in my pocket. 

"You don't have a smartphone?" His brows furrowed at my communication device and I forced out a laugh. 

"Old habits die hard I guess. I'm too clumsy for all the screens." I made up a quick lie that made me out as the idiot he thought I was before walking back to the table, having completely forgotten about the most recent confrontation between the two of us. 

"If there's nothing else, Instructor. I'm going to take this back to the cafeteria." I picked up the tray, vegetables rolling back and forth with my sharp movements.

"I see. If you're in the mood later, come by." I could see the smirk on his face as I walked towards the door. 

"Don't count on it!" I called back before slamming the door shut behind me.

~~~~~~

Walking back to my room after returning the tray, I forgot to even buy my own food. I was too worried about my sister. 

‘What do I do? The plan was to never get in contact again, but what if he's hurting her? What if there's still a chance...’ I can't stop my thoughts from wandering from one bad scenario to the next. I bit my thumb so hard it was probably bruising and I wasn’t really paying attention to what was going on around me. 

‘Why couldn't you have been more careful?’ I frowned at my sister's face that I pictured in my brain, exactly the same as mine but smiling the way she used to in our hardest times.

"Motomori, what're you doing up this late?" I heard a familiar voice speak up in front of me, but I didn't take much notice. 

"Sorry, Instructor." Not looking up at the owner of the cheery-toned man, I kept walking towards my dorm room. 

"Atsuko, are you okay?" The voice asked as someone grabbed my arm. I threw it back in panic to see Instructor Soma; whose arm I've slapped away. 

"O-Oh, Instructor, I-I'm so sorry." I bowed deeply as I became embarrassed for assaulting my superior. I looked up to see Soma looking at me with a confused smile. 

"Are you okay, Atsuko?" He asked and my eyes darted around the room. I didn't want him knowing, I'd rather everyone leave me alone with my thoughts so I could at least plan something. Spending all my time with Kaga, who has the most hectic schedule I've ever seen, I wanted to see solace in my private time.

"It's fine, Instructor Soma. I... I'm just tired." I quickly made up a lie as I forced myself to smile at him. 

"Well, I'm the night-watch tonight, so if you need anything, I'll be on the top floor." He greeted me with his own cheery grin as the memory of what happened moments ago flashed through my mind. 

"Thank you, sir. Excuse me." Before I could get myself riled up in front of the unsuspecting detective, I turned on my heel and disappeared into my room.

~~~~~~

Days later, I was sent from one instructor to deliver some documents to Kaga. I had planned to forget about the phone call, telling myself it was a prank, hallucination, anything to convince myself it wasn't real so I could just concentrate on my own life. There was nothing I could do for my sister anyway, I had no one to help me and no clear evidence that she had actually gone missing. Well, I knew my father could make it seem like everything was fine for the public, but I didn't want to think about what he could do or was doing to interfere with our lives.

As I approached the Instructor's Staff Room, I remembered the incident between Kaga and I. He has had me pretty busy over the past few days, which helped to distract me, although he didn't know he was helping me. But, I felt so rushed, it was hard to relax when I did clock-off. All I could do was sleep, and even that was restless.

Thinking about what happened, I sighed, clutching the documents in my hand and knocking on the door. "Excuse me. I was asked to deliver-." Before I could finish my announcement, I stopped myself, realising how many more people were in the staff common room than usual.

"That's why it's your role." Kaga, talking to Ishigami, had a frustrated expression, which wasn't anything entirely out of the ordinary. 

"You can't decide that on your own. You're making teamwork pointless." Ishigami gritted his teeth to somehow hold himself back, but he wasn’t doing a very good job at it.

"Well..." Soma interrupted with a smile as gentle as the one I had seen that night. There were people around the three that I had never seen before, which likely meant they were Public Safety detectives.

When I stopped in the doorway, Kaga noticed me. He ignored me, but I knew now that was a sign to continue with what I came here to do. I moved silently so I didn't interrupt the meeting and handed over the files. As I'm about to leave, Kaga grabbed my arm to keep me in the tense office. 

‘Is he going to give me one of his ridiculous orders in front of all these people?’ I looked out at the group of men dressed in smart suits. It almost looked like a gathering of businessmen, if it wasn't for the badges pinned to various places depending on the person.

"This training will be the biggest one yet. Naturally, cooperation is a must." Ishigami began to try and negotiate with my mentor again. With all the confrontations I've seen the two have, I've never seen logic prevail. 

"Give it up." Kaga sighed, tired of the mere discussion of getting on well together. 

"That's what I'd like to say to you. If you run in on your own, you'll get us in trouble." Ishigami matched my mentor's negative expression. 

"Shut up. Don't take credit then start complaining about it."

"There'll be no problems if Hyogo has my information," Ayumu spokle up for Kaga's side of the argument; being on the same team together. The other detectives I didn't know contemplated the superior skills of Kaga and Ayumu against the likelihood of a lone mission being a success.

"The target is Takeda, a politician accused of corruption," Soma explained and I could have sworen I had heard the name before. And not from the news or the academy. "He's quite the big shot, so this will be difficult." It seemed like Soma was backing up Ishigami's debate, but his calming smile was hard to not see as neutral. 

"Isn't it a mistake to use a dangerous target like him for training in the first place?" Ayumu retorted.

"If the trainees can't pass this, they're not needed." It was clear what side Goto was on as he piped up as well, although probably for a different reason than Ishigami. 

"I agree with that much. We can weed out the morons who can't do it." Kaga's statement confused me, however, since the beginning he's been against any student interference, even when it came to training us.

"In any case, Goto's team will assist those who go undercover to contact Takeda," Ishigami explained, which seemed to put an end to any disagreement. 

"We can't do this like always... We need to catch him off guard..." Kaga looked around the room. "Ah, right, a woman." His eyes finally landed on me and my eyes grew wide with confusion. Ishigami was also confused by his statement. "Me and this one." Kaga gave my arm a sharp tug as if showing off his latest catch.

"What?" Not even having a clue what they are talking about in the first place, I was more than hesitant to sign up. 

"If we're working as a man and woman, he won't even notice us," Kaga explained to everyone but me. 

"Will it be alright? This might be a little much for Motomori." Shinonome glared at me and I so wanted to talk back. With the previous couple days being a little rough, I was more... temperamental with his obvious passes or him trying to coax me into quitting.

"I already told you, we cut morons who can't do it." Kaga's statement pulled me from my daydream of throwing daggers at a pinned up Shinonome. "Hey," he got my attention by tugging my arm again. 

"Ye-Yeah?" I looked down at him as he was sitting. 

"You wanna do it, right?" I wa left speechless at Kaga's first-ever offer that I had a chance to refuse. Obviously, I wasn’t going to, it sounded like a mission, which I could learn from. But, not knowing everything about the situation did make me a little uneasy. Instead of speaking, I nodded sharply, not wanting to sound unsure if I spoke aloud.

"You and this team will be support. Information analysis is your forte." Kaga smirked over at Ishigami as it seemed all the pieces of his puzzle were falling into place. 

"How many times do I have to tell you? You rely too much on your intuition-." Ishigami began a lecture I had seen many times in the Staff Room, but I was surprised he would say this in front of so many of their subordinates. 

"Yeah, yeah. There's too much of a risk. I can't give my approval, right?" Kaga grumbled the same words he's heard time and time again. "You say the same thing every time. But how many times has my intuition failed us?" It seemed like Kaga was trying to plead his case, no matter how indifferent he sounded. 

"It's not about failing. It's just about you doing things differently. I've told you. Alternatively, your intuition always-." Ishigami was, once again, interrupted.

"You still spouting off?" Kaga complained, having ignored most of what he just said. He then pushed me towards Ishigami like a wall, as if sick of dealing with him. I stumbled a little but quickly regained my composure. "Then use her to infiltrate or as a decoy, whatever." Kaga seemed so indifferent about what I could possibly offer to the investigation. As I questioned his alternatives, he started degrading me again. "This is my faithful servant. She's well trained."

Ishigami was left silent, as if contemplating my worth as well. Sparks flew between the two during their silence, then Ishigami looked away. "There's no end to this." He complained under his breath. "Goto and Soma; decide on the organisation of your teams." Ishigami started directing the room and the other detectives gathered around him.

"Atsuko, things have gotten difficult for you, haven't they?" Soma approached me. I wasn't sure if he was referring to what happened the other night, or just now, but he had no idea about the extent of it. I sighed, wondering what I had gotten myself into when I was just here to deliver documents. "But, I'm kind of looking forward to seeing you two cooperate." Soma flashed me a smile, looking at Kaga who's still sitting in his chair.

"Cooperate?" I questioned whether that was even possible for a man like Kaga and looked at him. Then, realising I heard a chuckle, I find that Soma must have found this funny. I pouted, about to bring that fact up, when Shinonome walked over. 

"Yeah. I'm sure you two going undercover together will be interesting." As Shinonome judged me from head to toe, I wondered how well the Captain and I could actually interact well. It seemed how unsure I was was shown on my face as the two looked very amused. "To put it simple, you'll be pretending to be a couple, right?" Ayumu showed his innocent smile and I almost felt ill at the statement. "There are lots of places only a man and a woman can sneak into together."

At Shinonome's words, I remembered when Kaga brought me to the love hotel. "It's just a mission." I shrugged, growing used to the fact I would have to start using my qualities men wouldn't be able to use. 

"Right, but..." A sly grin appeared on Ayumu's face. "You might get eaten up by Hyogo." Those words made me think back to the time I was locked in an interrogation room with the instructor. Kaga could be forceful and push the sexual harassment laws a little too far, but surely he wouldn't force me to fail this mission?

"Ayumu, if you've got time to flap your lips, get to work." Kaga is suddenly in our circle, staring the youngest detective down.

"Sure thing!" Acting like nothing had happened, Shinonome left without another word. 

"Move." Kaga then turned to me with his blunt order before leaving, I question whether I heard it or not. 

"O-Okay?" I rush after him, not wanting to get the bad end of the stick by delaying his orders.

~~~~~~

Following Kaga up to the roof to find him leaning against the railing with a cigarette between his lips, I gulped, watching the sun's rays light up his features. Cursing all of Naruko's fanciful jabberings, I approached him. 

"What did you wan-?" Before I could finish speaking, Kaga had his arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me exceedingly close. My eyes widened in surprise at the sudden move. 

"What?" I asked surprisingly calmly, not knowing how else to act in a situation like this. He remained silent as he stared down at me. "Can I help you with something?" I asked again, wondering if he had heard me the first time.

"Come to my room tonight." He smirked down at my face, my brows furrowing in worry. "I'll love you all night long." His voice was low in a raspy whisper and his breath tickled my ear. I instantly started panicking, wondering where the sudden request came from. 

"You're not serious, right?" I spoke low in return, afraid I'd stutter under his handsome glaring. 

"Geez, of course not." He sighed, letting me go. I gulped to try and wet my throat, which had run dry with my shock.

"Don't you realise that we'll have to go at least this far?" He complained as any type of gentleness he was going to show me was gone from his features. 

"This far..?" I blushed, never having done that with anyone. I didn't realise being as inexperienced as I was would hold me back here of all places. 

"We have to look like a real couple when we're undercover. If you give us away, it will all have been for nothing." I felt an oncoming lecture as he glared at me. 

‘How can he switch that quickly?’ I stared right back at him, fascinated with his seemingly bipolar attitude.

"Well, what do you think will happen if we do it more?" He cornered me to a barrier, pressing my back into the railing and slowly bringing his face closer to mine. I was stricken into silence, watching him near. "What do you want? I'll do whatever you desire." His smirk was back, but his eyes were empty once again. 

As he read my expression, I could feel my face redden. "Continue what happened earlier? Well then..." He paused, thinking back to our time in his dorm room at the school. "Yeah, it wouldn't be so bad to do that outdoors." He looked down at my body. As it had been after school hours, I had untucked my blue shirt and undone the top buttons, only because it was so hot. I didn't think I would have to hide myself from his predatory glances.

With my silence, trying to judge what he'll do next, his expression turned from looking like he was enjoying himself, to despising me. "You ruin this and I will get rid of you instantly." His threat was cold and severe and I had to gulp to make sure I could still breath. 

"I won't," I announced, although I could feel my fear in my toes. 

"I have no need for useless pawns." He repeated and took his hands off the railing either side of me, leaving as quickly as ever.

Desperately trying to calm my flaming blush, I can't help but feel defeated by his insult. 

‘I'll show him I'm not just some piece.’ I clenched my fist triumphantly, watching the roof door shut slowly. 

[foreignobjecticus]

Writing Tag Game

Tagged by: @castielslight​ thanks! I was reading OP’s post and got to the end and saw my name and was like??? me??? hello (I am completing this wayyy too late at night and feeling very silly)

AO3 name: coppersky/LilyV687. I’ve been on the internet too long; I have too many silly pseuds and I’m reluctant to make them all match because I don’t really use the old sites like LJ anymore. 

Fandoms: In order of what I’ve been feeling lately: B7, FO4, Doctor Who, Poirot. There are far too many more.

Tropes: ANGST. I am a huge slut for angst, also h/c. I tend to end up writing a lot of “character A gets hurt, B nurses them back to health” fics.

Number of fics: Only 8 on AO3 apparently. On my harddrives... active ones... 29. I’m the kind of person who actually has probably x50 ficlets/drabbles in one big Word doc because I have no concept of continuity or self-discipline. 

Fic I spent the most time on: Divided up pretty evenly between a self-indulgent OC B7 fic at 66 hours editing time according to the file’s details, and 99 hours on my FO4 fic about a gen 2 synth (of which I posted one chapter on here and never posted any more oops.)

EDIT: Uhhh scratch that I just found a Harry Potter fic at 193 hours... that’s one I’ve posted a few chapters of on my AO3 but most is still unposted obvs. Haven’t touched that one in a few years but every now and then I get at it.

Fic I spent the least time on: Now I was waiting to fill this ask meme out because I JUST finished a very quick & dirty fic! At 5 hours from sitting down and thinking about it to finishing & posting to AO3, that’s honestly the quickest turn around I’ve ever done and I’m a little proud tbh. I’ll reblog the link after this.

Longest Fic: Definitely that Harry Potter one above at 209 pages and just shy of 99,000 words. Man, that thing got out of control. To be fair, it was started about 11 years ago and left at 1 page untouched for ~9 years.

Shortest Fic: Published (and not including the inevitable fics that are just a word doc opened, one line written, then closed): a Poirot/Hastings drabble that I think is only posted somewhere on the poirot_fans group on LJ. There’s also a lots of old P/H ficlets floating around from my highschool years.

Most hits/kudos/comment threads/bookmarks:

Hits: 2016 and

Kudos: 140 on one of my little P/H fics? REALLY? Man that’s like discovering my P/H video on Youtube has 33,000 views. Unexpected.

Comments: 29 comments on my Harry Potter fic (most of them telling me to keep posting I know I’m sorry ssshhh maybe this quarantine).

Bookmarks: Also the Harry Potter one because I’m a horrible person and never finished it. Also I don’t generally post long fics for this reason. Look, it’s a big fandom. No wonder this one seems to be top of my ranks here... 

Total word count: Oh boy there has to be an easier way to do this. 59,000 on AO3 and... 259,000 in just the bigger fics that I’ve touched in the last few months.

Favourite fic I wrote: Idk tbh... I go through phases where I like one piece for its writing style, another for it’s plot/content... I’d say I’m proud of the FO4 and Harry Potter ones because I’ve put a lot of effort and research into them to make the OC characters fit into the universes and canon as seamlessly as possible while also (hopefully) actually making the characters interesting and worthy of being part of the stories. I’m also pretty proud of the smut I’ve been posting lately, but give it a week and I’ll think it’s all tripe. I have written very very little smut until recently so I feel disproportionately bad at it.

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: I want to expand on my FO4 fic and finally get a chunk of it published online. It’s one of the few things I’ve written with an audience in mind, so I’m more likely to put it out there for others.

Share a bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on:

Oooohh man I can’t compete with OP’s WIP. That was some JUICY PGP istg and . Hhhrrmmm let’s give a snippet of something from another kink meme prompt fill. The snippet’s not really NSFW but the fic will be (PGP):

“You go first, Vila!” Dayna laughed, kicking out at Vila from across their little huddle, and the thief yelped playfully.

“Alright alright! Never have I ever broken into another person’s cabin.” Roars sounded from everyone around him.

“That’s not true at all, Vila – drink!” Dayna cried, and Tarrant pushed Vila’s glass towards his face while Blake and Avon reeled off the many times Vila had broken into their cabins. Soolin sat smirking languidly, sipping at her drink regardless.

“He’s got to drink if he lies!” Dayna crooned, and Vila dutifully took a sip of his A&S.

“Fine then; if you think you know everything already, you go. Never have I ever…” he prompted the young girl beside him and Dayna smirked from across the rim of her glass, giggling.

“Never have I ever cheated honest people out of their hard-earned credits.” A chorus of ‘ooh’s sounded around the group and Vila looked gutted.

“That’s a low blow!” he took a swig of his drink and looked across at Avon. “You too old man, drink up!”

“They weren’t honest people,” Avon countered but took a generous mouthful of his drink regardless. Beside him, Tarrant took a half-hearted sip as if he didn’t really believe in his own culpability. Avon made a mental note to chase that particular story up with the pilot later.

“Soolin!” Tarrant piped up once he had swallowed his drink. Soolin rested her glass against her knee and circled her foot as she surveyed those before her. The gunfighter looked as if she were completely sober, and when she caught Avon’s eye, the man he was suddenly unnerved. What the hell are you thinking, Soolin?

“Never have I ever kissed Tarrant,” she turned to look at Dayna at the last moment, and Avon cursed the girl under his breath. He’d had too much to drink and was getting jumpy. Leaning back, Avon was happy to hide from the attention while Dayna and Vila took drinks while Soolin and Blake chuckled. When the laughter had died down, Soolin nodded towards Blake. Their leader managed a smile that reached his eyes despite the scar.

“Never have I ever had sex onboard Scorpio.” There was laughter this time and blushing all round as eyes flickered inadvertently towards guilty parties, and shocked giggles were muffled behind extended gulps of A&S and alcohol. But through the laughter, Blake’s good eye had fixed on the man next to him. Avon hadn’t taken a drink and that knowledge had visibly heartened and hurt Blake both in one go.

You calculating bastard Avon all but spat in his mind, and he scowled back at Blake in a way that he hoped gave nothing away but anger. But, as usual, Blake could see right through him. Avon didn’t quite know what he expected Blake to say when the man finally spoke, but “your turn” was certainly not it. Avon’s face passed through to shock and his anger was momentarily forgotten as he found himself being stared at by four other eager drunks.

“Come on, Av’n! I bet you’ve been stewing on a doozy this whole time. Out with it!” Vila leaned forwards on his knees and looked up expectantly. Avon put on his most smug grin turned towards Blake. Oh, I’ll play your game, Blake.

“Never have I ever been handcuffed naked to the flight controls.” All hell broke loose.

Tagging: Anyone who reads this and has enough fic to fill in the meme! I think most of the bigger writers I know have already been tagged. Oh actually @daddyfuckinlonglegs pls - no pressure! (Because I know for a fact you followed me for my FO4 fic that I went on to never post about again and I love your fics!  ;D ) & @the-epitome-of-pretense because your sosu stuff is 👌👌👌 and I think you had something in the pipeline last I checked :D

[eilonwiiy]

Bookends ; a Witchlands AU

Chapter 2

A night at the Cleaved Man turns both Safi and Iseult's worlds upside down after an explosive confrontation with an uptight Nubrevnan and an unexpected romantic gesture from a close friend...

Summary: Iseult det Midenzi never expected to go to a top university, so when her mother falls ill and she is forced to drop out to make ends meet, life has never seemed so unfair. But when she starts working at the local library and is unexpectedly assigned in the Children’s Room, a certain monosyllabic man and his thrice-damned demon child start showing up and Iseult begins to wonder if the threads of fate have a plan for her after all.

Previous chapters: 1

Ships: Iseult/Aeduan, Safi/Merik, and more… stay tuned!

Tags: modern AU, college setting, family, friendship, humor, fluff, slow-burn, romance, eventual smut

Read on AO3: here

Tag list: (please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @lseultdetmidenzi

*   .   *   .   *   .   *   .

There was a certain art to it, Iseult had to admit.  Bartending, that is.

Safi darted every which way behind the bar, hands reaching for bottles and canisters without thought and pouring liquids and syrups of all colors into an endless supply of glasses at breakneck speed.  Just when Iseult thought the place had reached its peak hour, a fresh wave of college kids invaded the counter. Iseult wasn’t sure how a place as cramped as The Cleaved Man managed to pack so many bodies.  For a bar as ancient as it was, she supposed being forced to get up close and personal with eligible strangers was half its appeal.

Not for Iseult though.  She isolated herself on her usual perch at the very end of the bar by the swinging half-door that led behind the counter, still wearing the outfit she wore at the library: a thick black knitted sweater, matching jeans, and laced-up boots.  No one bothered her, save for one unfortunate soul at the beginning of the night. He looked relatively harmless - if you could call a salmon pink polo shirt and khakis shorts in mid-winter harmless. But that didn’t stop Iseult from squeezing a lemon slice in his eyes when he wouldn’t take a hint that she wasn’t interested.  

When he had turned to Safi, face dripping wet and eyes stinging red, clearly expecting to see some sort of reprimand dished out, she only shrugged.

“That’s what they’re for,” she said and plopped a fresh slice into the drink she’d just finished mixing and offered it pointedly to a girl on his other side.  “Good luck out there,” she told her.

The girl grinned and raised her glass to Safi in thanks, turning to leave, but not without giving the open-mouthed guy a meaningful look.  

After that, the evening was considerably less exciting.  For Iseult, at least. For everyone else, the night was just getting started.    

Walking into the Cleaved Man, you could easily expect its raucous crowd to break out into a sea shanty at the drop of a hat.  It was like stepping into one of Iseult’s beloved swashbuckling tales, with its musty smell, fat wooden tables, and rickety benches.  There were even giant beer barrels tucked into the tight space’s dark corners serving as makeshift seating that Safi swore were older than the bar’s current owner.  Ornate, wooden chandeliers hung from iron chains, strewn with strings of white lights, a nice modern touch that doused the room in a soft, golden glow. While swarms of college kids hovered around the bar, smaller, more intimate parties clustered together in cozy booths, each with a single candle flickering bright upon the table, illuminating the smiles and laughter of their occupants.  Only a few diamond checkered stained glass windows lining the front of house offered the passersby a small glimpse of the merriment contained within.  

Iseult appreciated the fantasy of it.  There was something romantically atmospheric to it.  In a historic sort of way, if that was possible. If it weren’t for the thrumming music and the mounting inebriation pressing in on all sides of her, she would have loved to come here with a book and simply read.  

“How are those limes coming, Iz?” Safi called over the music, not looking up from the glass she was shooting Sprite into.  

“I’m almost -” Iseult began, but Safi was already there, sweeping whatever slices she had off the cutting board into a tin bucket and hurrying away, “-done.”  She speared another lime and got back to chopping.

Friday nights were one of the busiest nights of the week, but they became even busier when you were working for two - as Safi was tonight.  She wasn’t technically alone. But Stix seemed more interested in picking up girls than serving drinks.  

Whereas Safi was a whirlwind of frantic energy, Stacia “Stix” Sotar leaned completely at ease against the counter at the other end of the bar.  Across from her a girl with badly dyed red hair spoke animatedly, eating maraschino cherries from a glass and wearing a dollar store tiara. She was clearly the matriarch of her group, as the rest of her friends - overly made up for a night at the Cleaved Man - stood adoringly around her, sipping their drinks and bursting into fits of laughter more often than was believable.  The birthday girl’s heavily painted eyes never left Stix, and Iseult had lost count of how many times her hand consciously fingered the bedazzled sash advertising “21 and HOT, buy me a SHOT” draped across her generous chest.  

Well, Stix had clearly seen to the shot.  What service.

Iseult’s attention lingered a moment longer before sparing a glance to the rest of the bar.  The evening was definitely in full swing. People had long since moved onto their second or third drink, graduating to shots and plates stacked high with wings or cheesy nachos.  At the eye of the impending storm, Iseult spotted a familiar face that could not have looked more out of place.  

Lounging languorously in sky blue, Leopold shuffled a deck of cards at one of the small round tables in the center of the room.  Keeping him company were his roommates Lev, Zander, and - much to Iseult’s displeasure - Chiseled Cheater. It shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did.  They lived together after all; he had as much right to hang out with them as anyone else. Still...

As though hearing her thought, Leopold turned in Iseult’s direction and met her gaze.  His face lit up and he flashed her a criminally stunning smile, burning like a beacon amidst the sweat and alcohol swirling around him.  He immediately beckoned for her to join them. She shook her head.

Why? he mouthed.

Iseult skewered a lime and held it up.  

Leopold’s lips pursed, accentuating their natural pink plushness.  His finger tapped the table, and with a quick word to his companions, he tossed the cards down with a little more flourish than was necessary and slipped away.  As he made his way towards Iseult, he moved through the crowd like a snake, disturbing no one and going unnoticed. Well, not completely unnoticed. A fair amount of heads turned to catch more than a periphery glimpse of his deliciously carved cheekbones and silky waves of strawberry blonde hair.

“Was that lime a metaphor for what you’re going to do to me for sharing a drink with Caden?” he drawled, sidling up to Iseult.  “Or have we seriously fallen to such a level of co-dependence that our dear Safi can no longer do her job without pawning some of the load off onto you?”

Iseult sliced into a particularly juicy lime and let the satisfying squelch answer for her.  Leopold shook his head with an amused chuckle, and before Iseult could protest, he plucked a slice from the cutting board and popped it into his mouth.  

“Mmm what a sweet death it will be,” he said in between suckles.  If it had been anyone else, Iseult would have been disgusted by such an obnoxious display - and in a public place no less.  But Leopold had a way of making even the grossest practices seem sophisticated. Sensuous, even.

“Limes are bitter,” Iseult corrected.

“Not with you at the end of the knife.”  

Iseult looked at him.  He licked a runaway trail of juice from his thumb, far too invested in the lime to notice Iseult staring.  His lips were red and wet, glistening obscenely under the halo of stringed lights hovering above him. She couldn’t help it; her face warmed.

But when he tossed the lime into the open garbage can behind the counter, it was like he’d said nothing.

“Do I need to call social services?” he pressed in a mock whisper that was sure to reach Safi’s ears.  “Is she keeping you here against your will?”

“Ha-ha,” Safi interjected, slapping a towel onto the counter and wiping it down.  Leopold lurched back as she made a pass near him.  

“Watch the sleeves, love,” he chastised with a small, but noticeable pout that only made Iseult stare at his lips again.  

“Oh Polly, you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t fussing over your designer shirt of the day, but you came to the wrong place if you expected to not be spilt on at least twice.”

Leopold gave a disdainful huff.  “Tell me about it,” he muttered, scrutinizing a spot on his shirt that was only visible to him.  After a moment, he clicked his tongue and abandoned the fabric with a note of disgust. “I’d be at Arlenni’s Loop if it weren’t for the company - which brings me back to my original question.  Are you going to keep poor Iseult here shackled to you all night or are going to let her actually enjoy herself?”  

“She’s keeping me company.  What could be more fun than that?”

Iseult kept her gaze downcast, suddenly needing to cut each lime slice with exact precision.

Leopold turned away from Safi like she hadn’t said anything. “You should join us.  We were just about to start a game of-”

“We don’t need to play any more games with your lot, thank you,” Safi cut in, brandishing her rag and earning an affronted glare from Leopold.

“Excuse me, since when does ‘Iseult’ mean ‘we’?  And what exactly do you mean by “my lot”?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”  Safi gave the table he’d just left a withering glare.  Leopold followed it over his shoulder, then turned back to her, frowning.

“For Noden’s sake, Safi.  This is overdoing it - even for you.”  He watched her, waiting for a response, but she said nothing, attention trained on the row of glasses she was now wiping dry.  When it was clear she wasn’t going to concede, he breathed an impatient sigh, then, designer sleeves and all, leaned against the counter and drew himself closer to Safi.  Understanding softened his expression, but his lips twitched.

“Now, love,” he began delicately, “I know you fancied yourself his girlfriend-”  

“I did not!” Safi barked, slamming a glass onto the counter and sending water droplets flying.  She glared at Leopold, eyes blazing. “He stole our apartment, Leopold!”

Leopold was entirely unaffected, despite his shirt was now spattered shirt.  He simply drew away from the counter, straightening and crossing his arms. “Oh boo-hoo, Safiya.  So you let slip to a guy you made-out with that you found the perfect off-campus apartment and he swooped in and snagged it for himself.  That hardly makes him a thief.”

“It’s how he got the information that matters,” Iseult intervened, feeling that she had let the two childhood friends’ bickering go on long enough.  Safi nodded fervently in agreement.  

Leopold clucked his tongue in distaste.  “Oh stop that. A lot of things happened at Vaness’ end-of-the-year party, but you being taken advantage of was not one of them.  Call him an asshole if you must, but don’t turn him into something he isn’t.”

Iseult’s heart lurched at the mention of Vaness’ infamous end-of-the-year party, but she swallowed it down.  “He took advantage of her feelings.”

“We all do at one point or another in our lives, whether we mean to or not,” Leopold said, giving her an almost pitying look.  “Heartbreak, dished out or taken, is an unfortunate side effect of having feelings.”

Iseult’s nose twitched.  What her mother would have had to say about that.  But even as she looked into Leopold’s sparkling sea green eyes, she couldn’t help but feel a trail of unease crawl up her spine.

“Why does it even matter?” he pressed on.  There was a strained edge to his voice as he ran a distracted hand through his perfectly coiffed hair.  “I saved the day and now you have an open invitation to our place at my behest and can torture Caden with your presence til the end of your days.”

This part was true at least.  Leopold had swooped in and snagged the fourth room Caden, Lev, and Zander needed to fill.  And he had used his status to forgo any scrupulous tenant screenings and ensure the landlord’s lease papers were signed before anyone could do anything to stop it.  It had been brilliant, actually. And he had done it all on his own.

“What am I supposed to do?” Leopold looked imploringly between Safi and Iseult.  “Not talk to them?”

Safi sniffed and raised her chin in the air.  “That would be preferable, yes.”

Leopold stared at her.  “You are impossible,” he declared finally, to which Safi merely shrugged.  Annoyance flickered across his face and he ran his hand through his hair again, cursing under his breath, “At least you got a good lay out of it.”

“What??”  Safi sputtered, eyes blown wide with panic and darting between Leopold and Iseult.  “We didn’t- did he tell you that?! ”

“No,” Leopold admitted sounding equally unamused.  “That was wishful thinking on my part.”

The two of them glared at each other, neither one looking happy with the other.  For a second, Iseult thought Safi would throw something at him. Her dirty rag perhaps.  Or a bar glass. That would be a first. But instead, her expression frosted over and she hefted the plastic bin of newly washed glasses against her hip.  They clinked noisily against each other.

“Go away, Polly.  Or you’ll have more than a stain on your shirt to cry about.”  She regarded Leopold cooly, then strode away, leaving him and Iseult alone.

Iseult shifted in her seat and situated herself back over her cutting board.  “I’d take her advice seriously. Those bar guns shoot surprisingly far. I’ve seen them in action.”

“If it means getting a drink…” Leopold trailed off, and to Iseult’s surprise, he drew up an empty stool seemingly out of thin air and plopped himself down next to her.  He leaned into her conspiratorially. “What are the odds of her making me a drink that isn’t laced with strychnine? Should I go bother Stix?”

Iseult glanced across the bar.  Stix was still working her magic on the “birthday bitch” as she’d overheard one of her loud friends dub her.  Her obnoxious red curls bounced as threw her head back and let out a shriek of laughter at something hilarious Stix apparently said.  Iseult noticed Safi roll her eyes in irritation as she tried to take the order of a big burly guy towering behind the group.

“You’d have to be a girl to get her attention,” she muttered, reaching for a lemon.

Leopold frowned, eyeing the group with mild interest.  “Surely I’m as pretty as one, wouldn’t you say?” He drew himself back, so that his form was on full display for Iseult.  He grinned and gave her an optimistic sort of look that brought out his natural boyish charm. “Couldn’t hurt to give it a shot.  Especially if it means avoiding my untimely death.”

Iseult didn’t respond.  That prospect didn’t sound so bad right now.  Leopold seemed to have read her mind because after a moment of awkward silence, he reached out and covered the hand holding her knife with his.

“Iseult," he said softly, and Iseult’s hand twitched under his.  He paused.  "I didn’t mean what I said.  Safi means more to me than… well, anyone. I’d never do anything to intentionally upset her. I love her.”  

His voice was pitched low so that only Iseult could hear him, but every word rang true and clear.  She slowly turned to look at him and something in his face relaxed when her eyes met his.  He was so close to her she could see the little flecks of blue in his them bloom with every blink.  The strands of red in his lashes. He licked his lips... and she hated herself for looking there too.  

“But,” he resumed cautiously, “I’m tired of her getting on my case for this.  It’s not fair. I haven’t done anything wrong, and look... I know you would face Noden and his Hagfishes before admitting it, but I think you know that Safi needs to let this go.  If not for my sake, then for hers.”  

Iseult blinked.  No one knew her better than Safi… which was why she was so stunned with how close Leopold came to hitting the truth.  But it was like he said, she’d take on Noden and his Hagfishes before admitting Safi was wrong.

Leopold squeezed her hand in understanding and let go.  Iseult immediately pulled it into her lap, only then realizing how warm it had felt under his.  She clasped her other hand and fidgeted with the silver ring around her index finger.    

Leopold hopped off his stool and brushed his hands on the front of his pants, as though he’d dirtied himself through the mere act of sitting.  He pointed to Iseult’s half-empty glass. “Do you need another juice box?”

Iseult grabbed the drink out from under the scrutiny of his finger and took a defensive sip from her straw.  It had a watery taste to it, all the ice cubes nearly melted to nothing. “No, I’m good.”

The corner of Leopold’s mouth curved up and the dimple on his cheek became a winking star.  “Yes, you are,” he purred, backing away into the crowd, “So very, very good.”

And then he was gone.  Iseult gaped at the spot, not sure of what had just happened, and turned in a daze to the end of the bar where Stix stood.  Sure enough, Leopold reappeared, slipping smoothly between closely pressed together shoulders and then leaning against the bar without taking any notice of the half dozen or so faces gawking at him for so blatantly cutting the line.  Or maybe he simply didn’t care. Even Birthday Bitch was looking at him like she couldn’t believe he was real as his lips moved with ease. That is, until Stix started laughing at something he’d said. A true, genuine sound.

The girl didn’t like that.  

With a scandalized look at the pair, she swiped her drink off the counter and took a pouty sip as she hobbled off her stool.  Leopold gracefully took her place without sparing the girl a glance, and even had the audacity to plop a maraschino cherry in his mouth.  Iseult saw Birthday Bitch peek over her shoulder a couple times to see if Stix had noticed she’d left.  

She didn’t.  Not even a little, judging by the pen and napkin she was sliding Leopold’s way.  

“Unbelievable,” muttered Safi, joining Iseult and watching Leopold scribble what could only be his name and number onto the napkin.  

“Admit it, you’re impressed,” Iseult said.  Safi only let out a mirthless laugh and turned her back on them just in time to miss Leopold slide the napkin back to Stix with a wink before disappearing back into the crowd.  She grabbed a lemon slice and shoved it in her mouth.

“He even got her to work,” Iseult added, ignoring the loud noises coming from Safi’s passionate assault on her lemon and nodding over her shoulder to where Stix was miraculously making a round of drinks.  “He’ll have you groveling at his feet by midnight.”

Safi swiped another lemon slice and made to shove it in Iseult’s mouth.  Iseult dodged the attack, and when Safi tried again, Iseult only scrunched her face and ducked a second time.  As childish as it was, it set both girls to laughing, a welcome sound to Iseult’s ears after such a long night.  Safi and Leopold bickered all the time, but she hated to see her so wound up over something so inconsequential as Chiseled Cheater.  Her friend didn’t wear hurt as well as she thought she did.

Safi finally stuffed the lemon into her own mouth.  “At least I can take a break now,” she said grudgingly, though her expression remained at ease.  She swung her hair over her shoulder and stole a glance at Stix. “Who do you think it’s for?”

Iseult wasn’t sure if she meant the drinks or the napkin Leopold slipped Stix.  She decided on the napkin. “Stix, of course.”

“Please, he’s not that good,” Safi muttered distantly as her eyes scanned the bar.  “My vote is for the birthday bazongas over there.”

“Safi.”

“What?  They’re huge!” Safi made an emphatic, and entirely unnecessary, gesture with her hands.  “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice!”

Iseult’s nose twitched, but didn’t say anything.

“See,” insisted Safi with with all the maturity of a five-year-old.  “And trust me, if we noticed, Polly definitely noticed.”

Something needled Iseult’s chest.  “You don’t know what kind of girl he likes.”  

Safi opened her mouth to comment, but a tray of drinks magically appearing interrupted them.  

“Special delivery,” trilled Stix, lifting a glass off the tray balanced on her hand and placing it in front of Iseult.  Her braided white hair was piled high on top of her head and up close, Iseult could see blue and silver beads woven into the tightly wound strands.  

“I didn’t order anything,” she said automatically, eyeing the colorful concoction like she didn’t know what it was.  

Other people might have been put off by Iseult’s inflectionless voice, but Stix only smiled, showing off the gap between her two front teeth.

“You can thank Prince Charming over there,” she said, with a nod and a wink.  Both Iseult and Safi’s heads spun to where she gestured, but somehow Iseult already knew who she’d find.

Gold waves rippled under the lights as Leopold tipped his head back and shook with laughter.  The deck of taro cards was back in his hands and he was in the process of dealing a round to Lev, Zander, and Chiseled Cheater, the cards flying from his long, delicate fingers and sliding across the table.  Dumbly, Iseult turned back to beverage sitting in front of her and inspected it. It was like a sunset in a cup, all orange, yellow, and red bleeding brilliantly together. She didn’t reach for it, though, to give it taste.  

Iseult eyes slid to the napkin set beside beside it and she noticed there was something scrawled on it.  She peeled it off the bar and slowly held it up to read.  Her heart was pounding.  Why was her heart pounding?   Stasis, Iseult.  Stasis.

Iseult looked up from the napkin and back at Leopold.  He wasn’t even watching to see what her reaction would be.  In fact, the only person distracted from their card game was Chiseled Cheater, and he definitely wasn’t looking at Iseult.  

Even from afar, Iseult could see the small line that wormed between Caden’s brows whenever she caught him looking at Safi.  He was in the middle of drinking his beer when his gaze strayed to her, the bottle hovering briefly over his lips before he indulged in another long swig and turned away.

Unfortunately for Iseult, Safi wasn’t paying attention to him.  The only thing she was gawking at was the fruity monolith standing between them.

“You’re right,” Safi declared breaking the silence.  “I don’t know what kind of girl he likes.”

Iseult said nothing.  She picked up the glass, set it down next to her cranberry juice, wiped away the ring of condensation it had left behind, and returned to her knife and lemon like the drink had been a figment of their imagination.

Of course, Iseult knew never in a million years would Safi leave it at that.

“So when did this happen?”

A surprise spurt of lemon juice shot into Iseult’s eye, but she willed it not to blink through the stinging pain.  Stasis, Iseult.  Stasis in your fingers and in your toes.  “Nothing is happening.”

“Uh, this very loud drink begs to differ.”

“Well, drink it and then it’ll shut up.”

“I’m not drinking your love juice.”

Iseult’s breath hitched in disgust.  “Please don’t call it that.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to call it?” Safi asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation.  “You won’t tell me what it is!”

“It’s nothing,” Iseult replied evenly, blank expression betraying nothing.  Because it was nothing.  There was no way Leopold had feelings for her.  They were strictly friends. That was it.  

Safi snorted when she told her just that.  “Right. And I’m the queen of Cartorra.”

“That explains it then,” a voice called.

Both Safi and Iseult looked around to see who had spoken.  It was difficult with the bar crowded as it was. Then, a young Nubrevnan man sitting a couple seats away wearing a crisp white shirt unbuttoned dangerously low leaned forward and cocked his head.

“Why you can’t be bothered to serve your subjects,” he elaborated, acknowledging the people on either side of him with a curt nod before drawing back to Safi.

Safi and Iseult shared a look, one that confirmed the unspoken: this guy was an ass.  

The corners of Safi’s quirked and she turned back, slow and purposefully, to the man.  “Can I help you?”

The flat of the man’s hand slapped the table.  “Now she hears me!” he exclaimed in mock surprise to the crowd, playing them for a response and flashing a good-natured smile despite his antagonizing demeanor being anything but.  Annoyance fluttered in Iseult’s chest as people laughed.  Drunk people were so easily amused.

“Excuse me?” Safi shot back.

A man - no, scratch that - a giant standing behind the seated Nubrevnan leaned down to speak loudly next to his ear.  “May have spoken too soon, Cap.”

More people laughed, but Iseult only mentally rolled her eyes.  Cap?  As in captain?  Oh yeah.  This guy was definitely a douche.

The giant flashed Safi what Iseult assumed must have been a smile, though it twisted unnaturally across his pale face.  Iseult discreetly nudged the bucket of freshly cut lemon slices towards Safi, but she waved her off, not taking her eyes off the man sitting in front of her.  Though, Iseult didn’t miss the nearly indistinguishable nod letting her know she knew it was there in case she decided to change tactics. Now all she had to do was sit back and enjoy the show.

“Are you going to order anything or not?” Safi asked in a bored voice.

He made a show of considering it.  “I don’t know,” he mused loftily, resting his well-tanned arms on the counter.  He leaned forward. “What are the odds of getting our drinks within this calendar year?”

“Slim,” Safi replied automatically.  She approached the counter, meeting his advance with a little extra swing in her hips, a lioness hunting her prey.  “But how would you even know?” she added as she planted herself in front of him. Her hands swept deftly over the burnished wood counter, arms stretching long on either side of her until she was taking as much space as possible.  “You clearly don’t own a calendar. Did you not notice that it’s January? Or do you not know how a button works?”

Much to Iseult’s satisfaction, the man flushed.  He glared at Safi. “I know how a button works.”

“So you’re just stupid, then” she retorted.  A murmur of amusement rippled through the crowd, music to Safi’s ears, and she stood a little taller.  Her mouth twisted as she gave him a cursory look. “Why even bother putting on a shirt if you’re just going to wear it like -” she gestured vaguely to his exposed chest “-that?”

The giant’s eyebrows shot up.  “Are you saying he should take it off?”  He turned to the crowd as he suggested it, opening the heavy-handed question to everyone.  He knew what he was doing. The bar immediately erupted into cheers. The space was so small that even people who weren’t close enough to know what was going on hollered their support, clapped their hands, pumped their fists into the air - anything for a chance at a flash of nudity.  

The giant circled the spot where he stood, towering over the crowd and nodding his approval.  “The people have spoken!” he declared over the noise and the bar responded with another enthusiastic cat call of approval.  The giant’s smile grew bigger and more terrifying. He clapped his friend on the shoulder and gave him a friendly jostle.

But the man merely shrugged him off and sank lower into the bar, keeping his gaze downturned.  Several strands of his dark swept back hair fell across his forehead, but weren’t long enough to hide the crimson flush from earlier that had deepened on his bronze cheeks.  Then, without warning, his rich brown eyes fluttered back up to Safi and he looked nothing like he had moments ago. Now he looked shy. Handsome .  

Iseult couldn’t see Safi’s face, but she knew.  She knew all it took was one look and Safi would melt.  She had learned that the hard way with Chiseled Cheater.

But Chiseled Cheater had never looked at Safi like this.  Chiseled Cheater was a practiced player. He tossed around charming smiles and easy jokes, dished out compliments in heaps, lured young women into shadowed corners with promises and heady kisses - and through it all, his mask never fell out of place.  

Not this Nubrevnan, though.  In his silence, he was completely bare to Safi.    

But a second later, whoever had been sitting before Safi - looking at her like maybe he’d wished they could start over - was gone.  The young man’s brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed with a keen sharpness.  

“I know you,” he murmured, almost to himself, scrutinizing Safi like he was seeing her clearly for the very first time.  Safi opened her mouth to object, but he barreled through her protests. “Yeah,” he said with more confidence, and suddenly his eyes were on Iseult who, up until that point, had gone unnoticed by the Nubrevnan.  He wagged a stiff finger from her to Safi. “I recognize you! You’re the Breakfast Bandits!”  

“What?” Safi snapped at the same time Iseult blurted incredulously, “They call us the Breakfast Bandits?”

The man crossed his arms triumphantly, rolling his broad shoulders as he leaned back on his stool.  The gesture pulled his shirt open even wider, exposing a generous amount of his muscled chest. Clearly, his modesty had been short-lived.

Safi mirrored his pose.  “So what if we are?”

Whatever amusement the man had gained from messing with Safi vanished.  His tone turned serious. “You’re stealing food.”

Safi gave a disbelieving laugh.  “I’d hardly call it stealing. Not when we’re paying thousands to go their precious little school.”

Iseult pressed her lips together.  It probably wasn’t worth mentioning that Safi had a fully-paid scholarship or that she’d dropped out five months ago.

“Besides,” Safi spurred on, “where do you think all that leftover food goes at the end of the day?  In the garbage. We were just taking what would have been thrown away.”

Strangely, this seemed to anger the Nubrevnan even more.  “That food doesn’t get thrown away,” he gritted out.  “That food is divided and delivered to local homeless shelters.”

“Oh?  And how would you know that?”

“Because I’m the one who does it.”

The space between them dropped dead.  Iseult could practically feel Safi’s stunned shock pulsing off her.  Somewhere overhead, Lizzo cried about great men.

“You-” Safi stammered, reminding Iseult of her own cursed stutter.

“Me and my crew,” the man explained, scowl deepening.  There was no triumph in his voice this time. “We divy what’s left over at the end of the night, load it up in my truck, and deliver it to shelters here and in neighboring cities.  Every day. We usually finish up around 2 in the morning.”

It was a first.  Safi was at a loss for words.

Still scowling, the Nubrevnan shook his head and rose up from his stool.  Standing, he was a full head taller than Safi. He glared down at her, his eyes searching her face.  Despite the obvious contempt pulsing off him, it was almost like he was hoping she would say something.  

But she didn’t.

He breathed in deeply, struggling to remain in control of his emotions, and his nostrils flared.  “You may think it’s just one hash brown,” he finally uttered in a low voice, “that you’re entitled to it. But to someone who hasn’t eaten in a week, it’s the difference between life and death.”

Again, Safi said nothing.  Iseult noticed that the giant was no longer smiling.  In fact, no one was smiling.  And the longer the Nubrevnan glared at Safi, the more fed up with he seemed to become, until finally he succumbed to his anger and ripped his jacket off his stool.  A violent movement that made Safi flinch.  

“You can forget about those drinks, domna,” he announced as he punched his arms through the coat sleeves.  He didn’t look at her. He simply flicked up his jacket collar and spun away on his heel. People stepped out of his way as he marched towards the front entrance in long, determined strides.  The giant and the rest of his crew followed in his wake.  

However, when he reached the door, his hand hesitated on the handle.  His head turned half a centimeter, then froze. Like he had to actively stop himself from turning to look back.  But his gaze slid to Safi anyway, two dark moorings along the brim of his jacket collar. For a second, Iseult thought she caught another glimpse of that shy young man from earlier, but before she could decide if what she’d seen was real or not, he yanked open the door and stormed out into the night.  

Safi stood motionless, staring after him long after the door slammed shut.  Iseult ransacked her brain for something to say, anything... but nothing came.  It appeared that the Nubrevnan had not only taken Safi’s voice, but Iseult’s as well.  

The rest of the night passed in silence between them.  Safi went about serving customers and making drinks, though with none of her previous vigor.  She navigated the bar on autopilot, any exchange made subdued. Iseult recognized the faraway look in her eyes.  It was the same one she wore whenever she was preoccupied with thoughts of her Uncle Eron. The notion that the words from this complete stranger could have the same effect on Safi as one of Uncle Eron’s drunk debauckles made something in Iseult’s chest worry into a knot.  

When the last tankard was hung and the final table wiped clean, Iseult followed Safi and the happy jingle of keys that signaled it was time to go home.  Bundled up in a dark wool coat and thick scarf, Iseult held open the door for Safi as Stix switched off the lights and filed after her.  

At some point during the night, it must have started to snow.  A light dusting of white covered the sidewalk and the cars parked along the street, and lazy, slow-falling snowflakes floated down from the starless sky as the three of them stood outside the Cleaved Man.  After tugging the door handle and making sure it was securely locked, Stix zipped up her leather jacket and happily wished Safi and Iseult goodnight, setting off downtown. Her night was apparently just getting started.  

The sound of Stix’s boots hitting pavement echoed in the distance and Safi and Iseult turned to face each other.  For a moment they just stared at each other, both looking as tired as the other one felt. Everywhere else on their block had closed up for the evening, and after a night spent in the Cleaved Man where the noise never stopped, the street sounded unnaturally quiet.  

“Home?” Safi finally asked.  It felt like forever since Iseult had heard her voice.  Big, chunky snowflakes clung to her knitted beanie.

Iseult nodded.  “Home.”

As one, the girls turned, linked arms, and set off in the direction of their apartment, leaving a trail of footprints along the snow covered sidewalk.  

It wasn’t until Iseult was lying in bed that she realized she never did see Leopold again.

[meganlpie]

A Diary

A Wattpad request! I do not own Tony Stark. He belongs to Marvel. 

Warnings:Body-Switching AU, slight angst and some fluff

Pairings: Tony Stark x fem!reader

When Bruce’s experiment went wrong and Tony woke up in your body, he thought it was going to be the worst day in the world. He certainly wasn’t equipped to be in a woman’s body, let alone yours. And seeing you in his body was weird. But it was all made better when he realized he had an opportunity.

         You hated Tony. That much was obvious to the genius. You never let a moment pass that you didn’t let him know that. So Tony had decided to act like he hated you right back. The two of you fought constantly. However, nothing could be further from the truth. Tony had been harboring feelings for you almost from the moment you met. Since you hated him though, he wasn’t about to tell you that. Instead, he gave as good as he got from you.

         So now that he was in your body and you were in his, it was the perfect opportunity for some sabotage. Maybe he’d try to convince Cap or Sam that you were head over heels in love with them. Or maybe he’d take your body to the salon and have them do something outrageous with your hair. The possibilities were endless. He didn’t realize that you had the same idea.

         All day long, the two of you did whatever you could to make each other look bad. At one point, Tony had Steve blushing furiously at something while you had Pepper smacking you over the back of the head. You’d then smirk at one another and continue on as if nothing had happened. By the end of the day, Tony was exhausted. It was difficult being a woman and making that woman’s life hell. Still, he felt victorious. That is, until he found your diary.

         He hadn’t meant to find it. In fact, he had intended on going into his own room. But Steve found him. “Uh, Y/N? Why are you going in Tony’s room? You’re not going to prank him again, are you?” Tony’s eyes went a little wide. “Of course not. I was just…never mind. He’s probably in the lab anyway.” With that, Tony scurried off to your room.

         He was surprised at how simply the room was decorated. You had a few odds and ends, but really there wasn’t much to it. What stuck out to him was the open drawer of your nightstand. Everything else was in its place so why was the drawer open? Unable to contain his curiosity, Tony peeked inside. He found a few pens and pencils, a bookmark, along with the book you were currently reading. Then, under that, Tony found an unmarked book. He opened it and realized it was your diary.

         A smile made its way onto Tony’s face. No doubt there were some juicy details written in that book. Flipping through the pages, he stopped when he saw his name.

I start working with the Avengers today. They are all so amazing. Especially Tony Stark. He’s brilliant and gorgeous. Hopefully I can get into the groove with these guys.

         Tony smiled. You thought he was brilliant? What had happened then? Why did you act like he was the scum of the earth? He kept on reading. The next entry with his name was dated a couple months later.

Why does Tony hate me? I don’t understand it. I know I’m pretty shy and that I don’t worship the ground he walks on, but still. I don’t recall doing anything to make him hate me so much. I guess I’ll just stay out of his way and not make it obvious that he’s hurting me. I won’t let him know that it kills me that he doesn’t love me the way I love him.

         Tony stopped reading after that. You didn’t hate him at all. You loved him. You really loved him. And here he was acting like a prick. You were just giving back was he was giving. Tony had really dropped the ball and now he had to make it right. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., locate Y- I mean, locate Tony Stark.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. gave him your-his location and he ran off to find you. It was difficult for him to run in your body, but he managed.

         Tony found you in the living room. You were sitting in a recliner staring out the window. “Y/N?” You looked up and gave him a half-hearted frown. “What do you want, Tony?” He pulled you up and to him. To your surprise, he wrapped you up in a hug. It felt odd hugging yourself. “W-What are you doing?”

         "I’m not good at apologies, so just let me do this, okay?“ You pulled away with a look of confusion. "Apologies? What are you apologizing for?” Tony looked up at himself and sighed. “For being an ass. I don’t hate you, Y/N. Far from it. In fact, I could go so far as to say I lo-”

         "Don’t. Don’t say it, Tony. You’ve made it very clear how you feel about me. Why are you suddenly trying to be nice and tell me that you…“ you trailed off and stared at him with wide eyes before continuing, "Oh. My. God! You read my diary, didn’t you?!” Tony had the decency to look ashamed. “A little. I was curious as to why you hated me. Only I learned that you don’t. You were only responding to my treatment of you. Which I was only doing because I thought you hated me.”

         You laughed. “I guess we really got our lines crossed, huh?” Tony smiled and nodded. “We did. I am sorry, Y/N. If that helps. I do love you. I have for a long time.” You glanced down at him with a grin. “I love you too, Tony.” Tony pulled you close again. “I may have to kiss you now.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “I may have to let you.” You and Tony leaned in and let your lips meet. It was wonderful. Soft and sweet and just perfect.

         When you opened your eyes you laughed in surprise. You were you again. Tony felt his face and smiled. He was himself again. Without waiting another second, he grabbed you again and planted a firm kiss to your lips.

(a/n: I really hope you enjoy it! I’m getting through the last bit of these old requests as quickly as possible so I can start on the new ones.)

Tagging: @brewsthespirit-blog @esoltis280 @aikibriarrose @jotink78 @ghostie-writes @iwillbeinmynest @mala-firebringer

[dolanswhore]

Body!guard grayson au - part 2

➸ Grayson Dolan  body guard AU ||  A few words before you start to read:  This story is will not be your usually fluff story but with a romantic twist but is highly suggested for mature audiences. This story will contain sexuality, language, violence, death and mature themes. Read at your own risk and only if you are comfortable All of this work are my ideas, and I have put a lot of hard work and dedicated my time for this story.  Thank you !  I will be accepting tags but will only take them with the comment below! if you message me or send it as an ask i will not accept it!!

Part 1. ||

Summary: Grayson will do anything to protect Y/N no matter how many he kills or how much he hurts.

It was with complete brutal strength when Grayson flipped a tabled onto his side using at protection as bullets whipped past him with a speed no human could match. The table wasn’t bullet proof though as a bullet split the wood nicking the side of his left arm. Grayson’s hands met the wound in instinct, blood covered his arm and most of his suit as it soaked into the thick fabric.

“get off me!” Y/N struggling caught grayson’s attention as he raised his gun towards the man. The shot wasn’t clear and he wouldn’t take it unless he was absolutely sure it wasn’t going to hit Y/N. 

Another bullet pierced splitting wood but this time grayson jumped to take cover underneath the booth dogging them. 

“Stop squirming!” The mask man yelled into air as he drug her towards the exit. With the realization that this man was actually going to take her away, she squirmed, kicking, scratching, pull the mask off his face quickly. The man’s gun didn’t leave the direction of Grayson who was trapped tucked inside a booth, it seemed strange his gigantic frame even managed to stay covered.

Almost instantly she realized the situation they were in with Grayson trapped the only senerio this would work out is if she did something. Without a second thought she reached forward teeth digging into the hand that help the gun and continued to apply pressure despite the crunching that came from between her teeth. The moment the gun fell to the ground Grayson shot up from the booth shooting the man in the head.

In seconds Grayson’s hand wrapped around her arm guiding her to the doors of the kitchen. “Grayson where are we going?”

There was no answer, actually at the moment he didn’t think it needed an explanation knowing that any sensible person would realize they were getting far away from here. Maneuvering through the kitchen was a breeze for Grayson but Y/N stumbled behind, almost falling at fast his pace was. 

The car was so close, it was in sight but Grayson had held the corner stopping them from going any further. Grayson’s grip didn’t leave her arm, with such strength it will leave bruises tomorrow if they weren’t already there. “Grayson please the car is right there!”

Taking a step further past the building bullets erupted into the air as he pulled her back into the cover of the bricks. “Are you fucking crazy?” 

Grayson’s throat burned with the eruption of the yell that came from his chest. Despite how angry he was, he understood why she looked at him with those tear filled eyes. It was only days ago she was nearly killed and now held at gun point at one of their enemies. “Listen to me, you stay here, I’ll be right back.”

“What are you crazy? Grayson don’t leave me I swear to g-.” Her words were useless as he ventured back inside. Grayson didn’t lie he was right back but in his arms was the metal door of the industrial fridge. It was no surprise that he easily through it over his head. “Follow me, right behind me do you understand?”

Grayson didn’t allow her to even answer as his hands met hers. “I mean it look at me!” Placing her hands against the back of his shirt. “Hold onto me, do not let go.”

In seconds Grayson’s feet began to move and with them Y/N’s as well as Grayson used the metal as a shield. It wasn't bullet proof but provided enough protection that grayson reached the car flinging the door open, in seconds the both were in safe confines of the car. Bullet’s raced in the air but bounced off the car as they finally met their destination. 

“How did they even find us?” It was a question spoken aloud but was clearly wasn’t meant to be answered as Gray suicide passed the traffic with a long line a honks after another. Grayson seemed to think for a moment before his attention turned towards Y/N.

“Give me your phone.” His tone held no room to argue but she wouldn’t give up that quick. “What? No.”

“Give me your phone!” She chose to ignore him which she realized was a mistake as his left hand roughly pulled her phone from her back pocket. “Grayson stop!”

“Put your finger in.”

“No.”

“Tell me the code then.”

“No.”

“I don’t know why you continue to act like such a brat! Clearly we are in no situation to play games so put your damn finger print in the fucking phone.”

As soon as the phone was unlocked Grayson’s large fingers fumbled with the tiny screen. The last thing she expected was him crushing the phone against the middle consuel, smashing it into tiny pieces. “How could you be so dumb? Leaving location on your phone?”

“I didn’t know they could track me with it?! How the yell was I supposed to know?”

“I don’t know if you get the reality of the situation here. Your life is in danger and you need to stop acting like a child and realize that.” Nothing was said after Grayson’s words and despite how much she wanted to cry she held it in.. sucking in the words he said as the hours passed.

At the first sign of light from the hours of passing high way gave great relief as her legs begged to be stretched once again. 

“Stay here.” Nothing else was said as he exited the car only to enter the office of the motel. Grayson talked as if everything was normal, that an open wound and blood rushing down your arm was completely fine but the sketchy motel owner didn’t ask any questions as he accepted the money and handed the motel key over with ease. 

Two bed were pressed against the bed, it was nothing fancy, it had a small mini fridge with a microwave on top. “Go take a shower, I’m going to get your bag.”

Despite how much her body ached with tiredness, she knew a shower would cure her temporary feelings. With  the shower barely producing steam the water seemed to wrap it’s arms around her, giving her a hug creating some type of comfort for the time being. 

The small knock on the door caused her to jump. “I have your clothes..”

“Just leave them on the sink.”

When she finally let the warmth of the shower she expected her suitcase to be on the ground but instead a pair of fuzzy plaid pants, a black cami, and what made her cheeks grow red was the black lacey bralet and a matching pair of underwear. 

Grayson’s body was sprawled across the bed in a pair of pajama pants and a black t-shirt watching the tiny tv. Y/N didn’t bother with a word as she finally met the comfort of the bed. 

“Go to bed we have to get up early tomorrow.” Grayson’s voice was suddenly so annoying, always telling her what to do at the moment the best she could do was ignore it.

She turns quickly not bothering with a word. Grayson seemed to not like this as he huffed but silence filled the room once again. What she least expected was him to talk again, “I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier and calling you stupid. I just forget how uneducated you are about these things and I was just trying to protect you.”

Without an answer Gray had turned to his side now shutting his light off. Y/N was well aware and grateful for how Gray had protected her today even with this gratitude felt for him no words came out. Her body was shaking still, the dramatic events of before still had her body rattled to her core. Gray said he’ll always protect her but she couldn’t help but wonder who had made him this cold? No one was clearly there to protect him.

Grayson fought every instinct in his body telling him to comfort her trembling body. His finger’s twitched to rub over to bruises that caressed her skin, to heal her from every bad touch she had but he refused to show his weakness. Putting his fingers underneath the pillow hoping to stop the feeling he convinced himself it was for the best.

sorry this part was a little boring but next chapter is juicy I promise!!

tags: @hishawaiianparty, @dandydolans, @mydolansss, @the-evolution-of-stupidity