#it's boring and they already fucked over everyone i care about so deeply i simply cannot be bothered lol

[iocaisaint]

Random ACOTAR takes

cw*: my unsolicited opinions

I agree with #that woman that canon Lucien and Nesta (and I mean pre-ACOSF) would've been terrible for each other sorry

As of right now Nesta is the only Archeron sister with direct connection to the Dusk Court, like her and her alone 🤷🏾‍♀️

Out of the love square (?) Lucien is lowkey the only one with a storyline that isn't made out of paper mache and hope. There's so many angles you could go: Beron, Eris, LOA, The Autumn Court or Spring Court, Tamlin, or Day Court, Helion, being an heir, or helping Vassa with Koschei + his overall friendship with Jurian + Vassa + humans as a whole and that's without touching on the mating bond even once. Real set-up wished she'd done that with everyone else

That being said, I disagree with a bunch of Lucien's stans when it comes to his characters, y'all have a power fantasy for him that's in direct contradiction to how he's actually written (I mean I get it the books treat him like trash)

If Nesta is pregnant I'll have a crash out to end all crash outs.

Everybody in this fandom bar maybe Feysands are shipping fanon, the scenes that y'all talk about and the ones that exist on page are either not the same or straight up don't exist.

I hate the HK/HQ plot even for Nesta, like is blatant colonialism.

Everybody here is a hypocrite when it comes to their faves we'd all be happier admitting then bending over backwards.

I do not care for Elain, simply because fanon Elain is so far removed from what's on page, that most her pro arguments simply don't make sense to me.

There's no reason for Helion to give up his Pegasi but I know HOFAS was a mess but when the place was revitalised after the Asteri were murdered they came back, my guess is that place and the prison are mirror worlds so the same will happen once the Prison is liberated

Azriel isn't boring but he also isn't extremely interesting. If he was a girl no one would gaf about him, but there are enough concepts of an idea where I could see his book not being awful.

Neither the pro or the anti side gives a fuck about Emerie, double points if you're engaging in that ship war. No I won't expand on this, I'm right.

Nessian sucks, that's all.

Actually no I'm expanding on that point, the fact that people defend no "I love you" from the MMC is crazy, that fact that people defend Nesta being threatened without Cass stepping in even worse, the fact that Rhys knows he can berate Nesta in Cassian's presence....like they had an 800+ page book and I'm still having to hear about how they need to "grow as characters" y'all aren't serious people

I've become more neutral-positive to Feyre because some of the arguments against her are just crazy but on that note she'd be deeply more entertaining if the narrative wrote her refusal for self reflection as a flaw

Gwyn cannot be a evil light singer and irrelevant at the same time please pick one.

Also I don't hate the light singer theory, sorry. Monsters not actually being monsters is this series's bread and butter. It'd be great if a woman finally got that treatment

I can already tell Eris is about to be retconned to hell because SJM hates a character not being vindicated by the narrative to redeem them (she already started by implying Eris wants his father dead for #feminism). Let it be known I like/d him as is

I don't get into arguments about Rhys cause I find him boring. Y'all are fighting day in day out about faerie Ronald Reagan

Nesta should've been bi, how tf did we get stuck with Mor

I have more but that's it for now.

[justsomeoneunordinary]

if you're still accepting asks for the character ask game, then numbers 12 and 20 for Mito? and/or 2 and 7 for Kakashi?

Thank you for the asks!! 🥺💕💕

Mito:

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

I mean... considering Mito doesn't really have a canon characterization, everything about her is made-up anyway, so that's kinda difficult to answer when her entire personality is a headcanon. Especially because I write her however I need her to be and that can differ widely from fic to fic.

Buuut in my heart I know this woman is extremely shameless. I headcanon the Uzumaki to be quite laid-back and open-minded in all manners, especially the sexual, and Mito brings that with her when she moves over to Konoha. She may look all poised and well-behaved but she will walk up to Madara and look him in the eye, telling him in not-so-subtle words what she and Hashirama had been up to the night before just to watch him squirm.

I know this to be true and I am more than willing to fight Kishi about it.

Along with that, I think she's a gremlin of a woman. Mito causes mischief wherever she goes just because she can and because she's bored, and no one suspects her except for those few people who know her well enough.

Also!!! Zero self-preservation instinct when it comes to seals! That woman shoved a whole-ass Bijuu inside her with an experimental seal and I refuse to believe she actually calculated the risk. Unless Kishi actually mans up and writes the scene of her sealing Kurama, I will simply continue believing that she looked at the big, mean, grumpy fox and went "I will show that fucker who's boss". In my heart, she's more of a crazy scientist than Tobirama.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

Tobirama!!! Am I biased? Yes. Do I care? No. They should be sealing besties!!! I need them to do all-nighters in Tobirama's lab and come up with seals beyond human comprehension, beyond any ethics and morals. These two would fuck around and find out and it would be terrible horrible no good for literally everyone else but they sure would have the time of their lives. I know Tobirama didn't come up with the Edo Tensei all of his own, I know Mito helped him! No one can convince me otherwise, come and fight me Kishimoto and be prepared to lose!

Kakashi:

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Everything? He's my favorite character, literally just remembering how great of a character he is dragged me back into this hellhole of a fandom after I told myself I would never return here lol

I love his personality, his history and what made him who he is now, his quirks, his design... I think if I have to pick a favorite it's how caring he is. Kakashi acts so aloof all the time, but he cares deeply.

He claims he has no one left anymore but Gai is there, Tenzou is there, Asuma is there, the other Jounin are there - and he cares a whole damn lot for all these people for someone who claims he has no one anymore. He disobeys Tsunade's - his Hokage's!! - orders to help with the Sasuke retrieval because he cares about his team, damnit. And he shows how much he cares for his Genin over and over throughout the series. Because those who abandon their friends are worse than scum and he lives by that til the end even after the whole Obito-shitshow during the 4th war.

He's just. Such a big softie on the inside at the end of the day, despite everything, and I love that about him.

(Also, his design fucks. He's the only Naruto character who actually looks like a ninja. He's the shinobi of all shinobis Imo.)

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

... You should've asked the opposite, that would've been easier to answer.

Okay, I love how much Kakashi whump there is. He canonically went through so much shit in his past - and it continues getting worse!! - and the fandom looks at this man who's already on the ground and goes "Is anyone going to kick him while he's already down?" and doesn't even wait for an answer. Yes, he deserves a relaxed and happy ending!! But I greatly enjoy whump and angst and the Kakashi fandom certainly delivers.

Also, I love it when the fandom gives him Lichtenberg scars! Not only because they look cool af, but more importantly because I love it when fandom ads consequences to jutsu experimentation! Yes, show me what could go wrong when experimenting with raw lightning, no matter that it's his natural element! These shinobi should have more scars anyway, and in that regard the fandom doesn't disappoint :D

-

Send me character asks!

[counterspelling]

Prompt: Rey, Finn, Rose, Poe, Chewie and the Falcon from the sequel trilogy get sent to the Legends timeline because they deserve better.

I think for me I'd actually rather keep the timelines separate? They absolutely did deserve SO MUCH BETTER, and time travel fix-it shenanigans can be so fun, but I love the EU as a completely separate thing and idk how you could incorporate them. I would rather just throw the sequels in the trash where they belong and keep the characters and just... rewrite everything else?? The only satisfying arc for that trilogy for me would be for Rey to be Luke's daughter since that is IMPLICITLY what TFA was showing us with her force visions of an island she'd never seen that Luke marooned himself on (after somehow failing young Rey and thinking she was dead, since that is the ONLY REASON Luke would ever abandon everyone like that, and even still I don't think he would cut himself off for years like that. We already saw that story!!! We saw Yoda and Obi-wan do it!!! Why did they just repeat the OT!!!) and with Rey calling Luke's lightsaber to her over Kyle Ron, they WANTED US TO THINK she was his daughter. And she should have been! The main SW movies are about the Skywalker family, and throwing away decades of that history to pull the rug out from the viewers and have her be a Palpatine in the name of shock value bc Rian Johnson is a racist piece of shit and JJ Abrams is so enamored of his own writing and thinks writing himself into mystery corners without presenting actual solutions is good storytelling.... that's dumb!

Disney originally letting 3 separate straight white dudes do the trilogy with no oversight or communication between them is dumb! George could pull out plot twists and shock the audience bc he was one man overseeing EVERYTHING and he never undercut the message of his own story. He was vocal about his movies being for kids, the point wasn't just to shock people, Vader being Luke's dad makes everything about the OT more complex and deepens every relationship, the same way Leia being Luke's sister does. It was about tying the characters together and underpinning their emotional journeys together, not pulling something COMPLETELY out of left field just so that the thing that everybody saw coming didn't happen (they resurrected Palpatine in the CRAWL and then never addressed it!!! I just!!! How is that something that actually got written and filmed and produced and nobody had a problem with it!!!). Disney doesn't care about anything but money, and they just need the brand for that, not a good story. I would rather bring Winter and Mara into Disney canon bc Leia deserves her sister and Luke deserves his wife but also I do not want to subject myself to suffering through whatever disney would do to them lol. Also, on top of everything else he's done, Abrams is still on my shitlist for putting out the casting call for Keri Russell's character to be named "Mara."

They set up Rey and Finn to be co-leads with parallel stories, they clearly set them up as love interests, they were two people who immediately recognized each other as someone to care for and trust, exactly the way Han and Luke and Leia all did when they first met, two people with incredibly fucked up childhoods who were never sure who they could trust or who would support them. But they knew from the first moment that THIS person would be someone they could count on, and had such an immediate bond together. And then they threw those characters away completely to woobify Kyle Ron and turn Finn from a lead into a side character without a plot or character arc for the next two movies. Rey and Finn in TFA are unrecognizable in the next two movies, everything about their personalities, motivations, and goals changes and has zero resemblance or flow from the first movie. And Kyle Ron himself is a joke, truly one of the worst SW characters I've ever encountered. I hate... so many sw characters lol, but he's just such a badly written and uncompelling character, and everything about him is so rooted in the racism that John Boyega the actor and Finn the character had to go through, it's just disgusting.

Anyway, if it was purely up to me, I would remove the sequels from canon and then do a 7 movie adaptation of the NJO and LOTF series. I want Jag and Jaina to be the main couple without decades of dumb love squares just bc Jaina is the only girl, I want Tahiri to be treated with the respect she deserves, and I want Tenel Ka to have more of a chance to bond with the other girls and in fact to make the relationships between all the women a priority. We'd get the first four movies covering the vong war, we'd see the twins and Anakin centerstage and having to fight the worst war the galaxy has ever seen as teenagers and how strong they were together, before they were even fully jedi knights. We'd get the bond between them and see them emerge as leaders in the war, and then we'd lose Anakin at the end of 3, see the toll that it took upon the whole family but especially Jaina and Jacen (Jaina! Who was always the protector of her siblings, from the time they were born! The oldest sibling, who feels responsible for their safety!! Losing her youngest brother!! And then coming into her title as Sword of the Jedi when she's knighted, and forever feeling the guilt that she couldn't stand in front of her brother and protect him!! When that was the literal prophecy spoken about her, that she would never rest bc she would forever stand in front of other to protect them!! Also?? To hear that about yourself at 17??? WOW!). And then seeing the last 3 cover LOTF and Jacen's descent, Jaina's realization of what he's become, how it's her duty to kill her twin, her heart, because she's the only one who can. That's the story I want.

[bonny-kookoo]

Sing to me: JJK x Reader 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mermaid AU, Siren!Jungkook, Prince!Jungkook, homeless!Reader, Romance,  Smut duh

Wordcount: 5k (medium)

Tags/Warnings: okay so, spoiled kook, possessive kook, Theres literally an attempted murder lol, drowning? whoops, blood oh no, reader is hella fucking dense ok, biting, courting lol, fish boy is in love, whoops, anyways we got sexy times too, because in this AU fishboy got legs n all of that hah, unprotected sex because, guys pls this ain't supposed to he realistic, wrap it before you tap it folks, its also not all that filthy lol, blink and you'll miss the scene, honestly I didn't include much smut because yall nasty so you will ask for dirty drabbles anyways, not that I mind lol, k I'm done I think, wow mom I've sinned less than usual..

Summary: Help me love myself, and I might learn to love you as well.

Or alternatively: you save Jungkook from being killed, and he totally gets the wrong signals. But he's cute, so its fine. Probably.

Jungkook is floating.

He thinks about what lies above the waves, and cant think of anything he really finds interesting. The surface is littered in junk, in things humans leave behind without thinking twice about it. It's air is thick and stuffy, hard to breathe and never clear at all. It's crowded, with creatures who at the end of the day all look the same in his eyes. There's nothing exciting about the world people walk on.

Its boring, and dirty.

His own home is, compared to that, a kingdom radiating like the moon itself. It shines and sparkles, and harbors some of the most beautiful creatures ever to be found. He and his family, as well as everyone else, live in peace with nature down underneath the waves, existing side by side instead of trying to gain the upper hand all the time.

And he's reminded of the cruelty of man, when he finds himself caught in a net.

He's somehow made the fishermen drop it instead of pulling him up on their boat. But that doesn't mean he's free- he's still struggling with it, fighting it, but he cant rip it apart. All he does really, is tie the knots tighter, have them dig into his skin until spots are rubbed raw. He can't really swim anywhere at this point, gives up as he can see the last lights of his distant home fade into the distance.

Jungkook is floating.

He's slowly being led by the waves, by the love of wind and waters, as he closes his eyes. Its a pity, really; for a prince held so high to die by the mere hands of the poor, he thinks. It's upsetting him, very much so, but he takes it as it is. There's nothing he can do anyways, as he slowly comes into contact with the sand below. It washes him up onto short, the dry sand sticking to his body, waves pushing him higher and higher onto the ground.

He shivers, the cold outside air biting at his skin now unsheltered and defenseless.

He doesn't know how long he lays there.

But at some point, steps are heard on the sand. He keeps his eyes closed, doesn't care about what will happen next- he really just wants to have it be over by now, the ropes already painfully burning his skin at certain spots. He's sure theres sand in his wounds as something touches him- warm fingers, hesitant, and almost shy.

He keeps his eyes closed.

"My god, I hate humans.." You mutter under your breath, your voice hitting his ears, making him notice the way it sounds. He thinks it sounds very similar to some of his kind; sirens being blessed with voices sweet and enchanting. Maybe you were one of the strays who had decided to live on the surface for some reason? But your smell was entirely human, although much sweeter and pleasant than anyone he'd met before. And then, after a small short moment of pain-

He's free.

His arms flop to his side, and he breathes in deeply- finally able to fully move again. His eyes open, and adjust to the night for a moment, before they meet yours.

How interesting.

"Jungkook?" Jimin asks him, curious to what has gotten the young Siren so occupied. Typically, Jungkook would be watching the annual kingdom dances with at least some form of interest; even if it was just a glimpse of it, just to make his parents worry less about him misbehaving. But today, as the graceful dancers move around to the orchestra playing, the young prince is absolutely not there. At least not mentally. "Jungkook." The older one scolds, getting Jungkooks attention- his gaze hard and annoyed. "Please, young prince- at least try to pretend you're interested. This is after all part of our culture." He strategically uses his title as teasing- something which makes Jungkook snort without any fun.

"I really don't want to be here." He explains, and Jimin sighs. "I'd rather be at the surface.." He mumbles, being careful not to be too loud- but Jimin does pick it up, and so does his partner, Taehyung, next to him- now leaning a bit forward to hear better.

"Oh?" Jimin asks. "What could be of interest there, I wonder?" He teases, and Jungkook grows even more irritated.

"Nothing that should interest a whore like you." He says harshly, though Jimin knows he means no harm with it. Jimin is, after all, a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life- which is why he can't quite grasp why Jungkook, a young man in his prime like himself, doesn't seem to care about whats going on around him.

"Hm, but I think she must be absolutely divine if you're willing to risk the wrath of your own mother just to see her." He says, and Taehyung snickers next to him, clearly amused.

But to both of their surprise, Jungkook grows.. calm. Theres even a glimpse of a smile on his lip as he rests his head on his head, elbow on the armrest of his throne. "That she is." He says, quietly, as he watches the young woman in front of him. He has to imagine you there instead, moving oh so gracefully to the sounds of his Kingdom's greatest musicians- dressed in the most beautiful gown he'd gift you. "That she is.." He repeats, a dreaming look on his face that Jimin has not seen before.

Jungkook watches you.

He enjoys watching you on your daily trips to the beach, picking up cans and bottles, and other things people throw away without care. You're cleaning up the beach, and he thinks its a very good behavior- he likes the way you always carefully scan the ground and sides for any garbage. He swims a little closer as he spots you squatting down; eyes lighting up as you pick up a shell he'd personally not care much for. It's slightly pink- but nothing he hasn't seen in his life. They're so common, and he suddenly thinks that if this already makes you happy, what if he was to bring you something else? Something better, something more worth your attention?

He feels a rush of excitement.

Dashing into the opposite direction, he makes his way towards the ground below, eyes scanning the ground as he searches for something. He spots it after a few minutes of searching, but when he holds the pearl, he hesitates.

Its not enough.

No, that's not what you should get. He's only paying back his dept, yeah, that's what he's doing. But what if he was overdoing it by bringing you something too expensive or rare? No, he should be smart about it, yeah. Start small, and work your way up he thinks, as he takes the pearls he's collected while deep in thought, and pushes himself back to the top, swimming easily. He hopes you're still there-

And there you are, dipping your feet into the water.

He looks at what he can see; only able to see clearly underneath the waves rather than above. There's a bracelet hanging around your ankle, and it looks cheap, he thinks. It only helps him by giving him ideas for his next gifts- if you would accept his first, that is. He's never been rejected before, but then again, has always rejected instead. Nothing had interested him to the extend you did. Maybe you really were of his kind, secretly.

When he slowly brings his head up the waves, you don't get scared, or flinch. You simply look, spot him, and smile.

He likes that expression.

He comes closer, free hand helping him onto the stone you sit on, his hand holding your gift eagerly pushing against yours. You understand quickly, and open them, and he smiles. You're smart, he notes, and it only adds to your qualities, he thinks. Dropping the pearls, your eyes sparkle again- as they should, he thinks with pride. You inspect them with big eyes, as if you've never seen something alike. He enjoys your reaction- and you nod at him. "Thank you- are they for me to keep?" You ask, pointing to them, and then at your chest. He's not fully fluent in human language, but has picked up on some words and phrases, since Seokjin had recently strayed- teaching him some stuff whenever he got bored and visited his younger brother.

So Jungkook nods. "You." He says, and you like the sound of his voice; fittingly just as handsome as the rest of him, you think. But then again- his kind is known for its beauty and enchanting voices. "Keep." He tells you, pushing your closed palm a bit closer to your body as if to underline his statement. You think its cute, in a way.

"Okay." You say. "I'll keep them-?" You ask, and he doesn't understand, until you point to yourself, and say a name- yours, he supposes.

"Ah-" He starts, pointing to himself. "Jungkook. Jeon, Jungkook." He tells you, and you nod, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook." You smile, and he grins back, slightly sharpened canines in stark contrast with his bunny-like smile.

He thinks its nice to meet you too.

"But you're a witch, aren't you?" Jungkook argues, staring at Taehyung. "I thought you were all so capable." He challenges, and Taehyungs eyes darken- quite literally, since sea witches do technically have black eyes- but conceal them, as to not scare off people. He regains his composure however when Jimins hand lays on his shoulder.

"Now now, no need to become huffy." He says. "He didn't say he can't do it- he simply told you that its not that easy." He explains, and Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes. Ever the spoiled prince, they think to themselves.

"I don't care about that." He states. "Can you do it, or can you not?" He asks, and Taehyung thinks for a moment.

"I.." He begins, before he sighs. "I can. But, there's a catch, Jungkook." He tells him, and this time, the youngest of the group seems just as serious as he listens. "I can't promise that.. the result will be what you will expect." He says.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks.

"There's a chance she won't survive it."

He doesn't think much about why you're so often sitting on that rocky structure close to the deep- he likes not having to get out of the water to be close to you. And you think, Jungkook is quite the interesting being.

He’s curious; that much you can tell. His hands rest on your knees, your toes sometimes brushing against his abdomen as he swims closer- face coming forward to properly look at you. His vision must be bad outside of the waters you assume, his brown eyes squinting in concentration until he huffs and let’s himself back into the waters. You chuckle, and simply take off your jacket, slipping into the water as well as you control your breath- his entire face brightening at your body now underwater in his world, finally clear to see for his eyes.

You’re pretty, he thinks, definitely prettier than any other human he’d encountered before. The clothes covering your breasts and private parts a bit dull and boring for his taste- but he’d change that soon. He smiles, happy, before holding up his finger as if to signal for you to wait before he swims away, elegantly and fast. You swim up to breath some air, catch your breath, until there’s a hand around your calf, holding, fingers running over the skin, signaling you to come down again. You follow his question, taking a deep breath to meet him underneath the surface; his excited hands wrapping something around your neck, before he swims in circles as if he’s suddenly got too much energy. You point to yourself, as if to ask if you can keep it- and he nods, wide eyes watching you with a smile that you can’t help but mirror.

You don't quite realize what he's doing.

He however thinks you know. You know that he's courting you, and you're interested in him. You know that he's just given you more than a simple gift. He only believes you're letting him work for it- something he happily does, taking on the challenge as always. He swims closer, holds your shoulders, as his eyes look into yours, his gaze happy and child-like almost. He's close to finally showing you affection- but you suddenly swim to the surface instead.

And even though he knows you only wanted to breathe, he can't help but feel slightly sour at the ruined moment.

"You're awfully happy these days." His mother says, watching her son in the gardens of the palace. "May I ask what has gotten you in such a bright mood?" She asks, and Jungkook doesn't quite know how to break it to her. He knows its not forbidden, knows it has, and does, happen each and every day it seems- but there's still fear inside of him. Theres still hesitation, even though he is not ashamed of what has happened- of what he has done. His mother however notices. "You know you can trust me, right?" She says, and he nods.

Its now or never.

"I've found a mate." He says, and his mother smiles warmly, holding his cheek as she kisses it in congratulation. "Its a human." He says, quietly, hurried- but his mother continues to smile.

"I have suspected as much." She states. "Your friend- Park Jimin- is not very good at talking quietly." She snickers, and Jungkook curses under his breath about how he wants to strangle him. Theres a huge weight lifted off of him however; finally having said it, made it very real to him, in a way- even though it was already.

Because, after all; you were wearing his kingdom's sigil around your neck already. He had claimed you.

He's restless the next time he swims to the shore to meet you again- eager to see you to give you the news of his family's acceptance.

You're late- later than usual, and his brows are furrowed, mood upset at your mannerism. You're usually always on time, always just as eager to see him he thinks- but this time, you're not there. After his anger however, he grows increasingly worried instead. What if something had happened to you instead? Oh what a bad person he would be to be mad at you for getting into an unfortunate situation. As guilt slowly makes his way into his body, claims his muscles, he moves to sit on the stone he usually finds you on. He tries to look around- rain on his skin making it possible to be out way more comfortably.

He spots movement above.

Theres a person he can't make out- throwing something off the cliff down into the sea, and Jungkook clicks his tongue in anger, already upset- but still curious on what it was the person had been so eager to discard. Typically, its tiny things or plastic he finds- but this is something else, he knows.

Underwater, he smells blood.

His pupils contract, eyes widening, as he spots the black bag slowly making its way to the bottom of the sea- red trail leading from it. Its not the blood however that makes him frantic- its the smell of it, of you, that stops his heart.

He gets you out the bag, his anger over the entire situation diminishing into nothing as he holds you close, eyes spotting the deep cut on your side, and the scratches on your face. Unsure where to bring you, he holds you close, brings you onto his back as one of his hands hold yours, your arms around his neck. He swims quickly to the only place he knows you can breathe.

The underwater cave is big enough for now, he thinks, as he brings your body onto the ground, out the water. He doesn't notice he's crying, doesn't quite speak, his native language of clicking sounds and little noises escaping him as he whines out for your attention, waiting for you to wake up somehow. He's been so invested in making you like him and accept him that he's got no idea what to do with a human. Are you cold? How can he warm you up? How does he stop bleeding wounds? How much can you bleed before you die? Are you already dying?

Jungkook doesn't know what to do. So he simply lays by your side, holding you close, in hopes his slightly higher body temperature can keep you warm.

"He's doing the best he can-" Jimin says, Seokjin next to Taehyung as they both lean over your body. Both witches are concentrated, already exhausted, but there's no way they're giving up on you now. Not only because you're important to Jungkook- but because no one deserves to simply die like this.

"I know, I know!" Jungkook huffs out, pupils turned into cat like slits- a clear sign of the absolute terror and chaos inside of him. "What if they're best isn't good enough? Jimin, I can't loose her, you don't understand-" He starts, but Jimin holds the younger one's shoulders, for the first time serious with him.

"I do." He glances at Taehyung. Jimin had saved Taehyung before as well- the young sea witch having been hit by a fisherman's harpoon years ago. Ever since then, Jimin had been attached to the witch like glue. "Trust me, I really do. And they're doing all they can to make sure she's going to be fine." He promises, and Jungkook nods.

All he can do is pray.

When you wake up, there's several things you notice.

First, you're alive. Having a raging headache, and your limbs and muscles feel horribly tender, but you're alive. There's also strings of rope tied to two rock formations acting like a clothing line, several blankets and clothes hanging from it. They don't look human-made to you- the fabrics and designs not something you would think of as regular. There's a bucket and several stained rags- now copper-brown with old blood. Its then that you look down, seeing your cut sewed shut.

You also notice its rather soft underneath you.

Its sheepskin laid over seaweed you notice- the whool soft and fluffy, and warm. Everything seems to be so thoughtfully placed, even some decorative items- you can spot fireflies casually sitting in a jar close by, and burned wood, probably to . Probably to make light during the night. You're tired however, so you simply lay down again. Quite honestly, surely you should fee worried about the situation- but then again, there was no one to miss you, no place you called your home anyways. No use in worrying- because deep down, you had your suspicion.

A Jungkook swims to the surface with the plastic box in his arms, he's careful not to throw it too hard onto the ground. As he steps out the water, he's sure to at least try and his his hands of most the water before he goes to check on the blankets he had brought this early morning. They've dried enough, he notices, and is glad about that, as he picks one up.

You don't have to be cold anymore, he thinks.

He's unnaturally careful for his typical character- his usual behavior quite the opposite as it was now. Now, he's making sure you're properly tucked in, as he notices your eyes watching him.

He freezes, for a moment.

Jungkook hasn't really thought much about what would happen if you were to wake up- after all, Seokjin had told him he was unsure if you were to wake up this early in the first place, and Taehyung didn't even know if you would wake up at all. He'd told his younger brother to be prepared for any reaction really; fear, confusion, maybe even anger. But you seem calm, curious even, and Jungkook decides to sit down in front of your face, waiting.

"You brought me here, right?" You ask, and he nods, eyes not leaving your form.

"You-.. hurt." He points to the spot where your wound had been. "Also hurt." His hand points to your head. "Brothers, helped." He informs you, and you smile, nodding at his words. He suddenly looks at the ground, mumbling. "I.. worried. Thought... you, dying." He tells you, and you sit up slowly again, keeping the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm not dead though." You say, and he nods. "Thank you, Jungkook. Now we're even." You say, and he tilts his head in confusion- a mannerism you could only think of as cute. "I saved you- you saved me." You say, and he smiles, nodding.

"I-" He starts, leaning forward a bit, now way more energetic and lighthearted as before. "I- we-" He growls a little in frustration, and you cant help but giggle at his troubles- the chirps and clicks escaping him foreign- but somehow, they feel hazy, as if your mind knows the language, but has forgotten what it meant. He's trying so hard you notice, and appreciate. "You like here?" He asks, and points around. You nod, and he beams at you. "I made." He tells you, proudly so.

"I guessed as much. Its very thoughtful of you, thank you." You say, and he nods, happy you like what he did for you. Its not a permanent solution, obviously, but as soon as you're healed well enough, he already planned a new spot for you to come with him.

You just don't know it yet.

There's a weird feeling inside of you.

It's like homesickness, you think. Every time you look at the waters, you feel- sad? It's making you uneasy, and with every day passing by, it just gets worse and worse. But it's today, that you cant take it.

When you dip your legs into the water, it soothes an ache you can't recognize ever having. It helps your skin, it somehow feels as if you're breathing again. But It's not enough, you think- before you let yourself fall into the deep end.

You're floating.

It's like leaving a stuffy and crowded mall, just to stand in a park, fresh air after it had rained, and light breeze clearing your head. Everything is silent, but not at the same time- the water around you feeling as if you're being hugged, held. It makes you relax, makes you let go, makes you only exist for a moment.

You're floating.

And there's a sudden wave of realization that you're also breathing. There's no water in your lungs- or maybe there is, and you just don't feel it being there. Darkness surrounds you as you don't know where you are exactly- theres no telling where is where, no way to know if you're upright or not. Maybe you've died?

Did you drown?

If you did, it would explain Jungkook being there. He's swimming towards you with a face full of worry, as he grabs your wrist and holds you close. "I can't even let you out of my sight for a mere day it seems, my love." He sighs, and your eyes widen. Its almost comedic how his own do the same, focusing on your neck, as he touches.

You're sensitive, and shift away from his touch.

"It-" He starts, now holding your shoulders, as he begins to smile. "It worked! It really did- by the dragon kind, you look absolutely divine!" He laughs, and can't help but hold your hands, eyes roaming your appearance, as you don't quite get it- until you follow his gaze.

Just like him, there's fins now on the sides of your calfs, smaller ones on your ankles as well. Theres also ones decorating your outer forearms- they look like the ones you'd always see on goldfish as a kid. There's something alike to scales as well, but barely noticable. "I- what happened to me?" You ask, and Junkook smiles.

"You.. almost died." He admits, taking your hand and swimming to what you assume is back towards the cave. "You had been robbed during the day, and when I found you.. well, you know what happened." He says. "While you were asleep, we were thinking about what to do. There was no way you would survive as a human- so, a friend of mine- Taehyung- performed a ritual, together with Seokjin, my brother." He says. You finally spot light, glad to be able to have at least some form of orientation. "I'm glad you're adjusting so quickly, my love." He states, smiling at you.

You notice the petname again.

"Jungkook-" You start, as you both reach the cave again, sitting on the edge of where the ground of the cave meets the water. "Why are you.. calling me that?" You ask, and Jungkook seems confused.

"Why do you ask?" He questions. And you don't quite follow, until he continues. "You're my mate- I am only addressing you as such."

Your eyes widen. "Wait- we're-" You start, and its only then that it clicks in Jungkooks head.

"Oh." He says- the dissapointment bitter and evident in his voice. "You.. didn't know?" He asks, and you shake your head, unsure what he means. "I see.." He tells you, suddenly distant. "I.. will bring you breakfast tomorrow.. sleep well." He abruptly says, and before you can say anything, he's already gone.

What just happened?

"There you are!" A voice says, deeper than Jungkooks, but not unfamiliar. Taehyung had been visiting and bringing you food and nescessities ever since that talk with Jungkook. This time, however, Taehyung seems like he wants to say something. You look at him, silently urging him, and he sits down next to you, sighing.

"Does he hate me?" You ask, quietly, and Taehyung looks sad.

"He could never." He says. "He just.. didn't take the rejection well. He'll need time to come around. It won't take that much time- his mother is already trying to get a new partner for him." He explains, and your head whips around towards him. "I- you.. did reject him, right?" He asks, slowly. "You do.. not love him, right?" He urges again, and you groan suddenly, throwing your face into your hands.

"Oh my god I'm so stupid.." You say. "It all.. everything was so overwhelming, I didn't even notice what he was doing." You cry into your hands, as Taehyungs hand places itself onto your back, trying to soothe you. "I though.. especially after I found out about his status.." You mumble. "How could he want me?" You ask, and Taehyung sighs.

"Head up, little siren." He says. "He's still able to hear you sing, if you want to." He says, and you look at him.

"But how?" You say. "I have no idea where the kingdom, or anything really is. And he won't come see me until its too late." You say.

"Well-" Taehyung says, standing up, and holding out his hand. "-allow me to escort the future princess to her lover."

"How did you find me?" He simply asks, not turning around, as you float closer. "I'm sorry, but I still need time to.. get over-" He starts, but you don't let him finish, instead leaning into his back, your arms around his middle.

"I'm stupid." You say. "I'm really, really stupid." He shakes his head, but you continue. "Just because I didn't realize- doesn't mean that I don't feel anything for you." You say. "I just.. felt unworthy, I guess. Insignificant." You admit, and he turns around, holding your face in his hands.

"You really are not gifted with the mind of the dragons king, my love." He states teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes returning. "My status means nothing to me, if that meant I could not have you." He says, and you lean forward, capturing his lips. "I hope you know what this meant, at least." He teases, and your eyes widen, scared you might've done something wrong. "It means you love me." He says, and you chuckle.

"Good." You say. "Because I do."

Even though he thinks you looked like a goddess reborn in your white and pearl decorated gown from the wedding, he enjoys you without it, close to him, just as much. He's alive, he's feeling, he's in love, as his hands move over your skin, his senses filled with you and nothing else.

The sounds you make for him are sweeter than any siren's song he's ever heard or could ever sing himself. No member of his kind is as enchanting as you, he decides, as he bites and kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. Jimin had teased him relentlessly the entire evening and night by trying to send you sweet words, to which you didn't react- but that didn't mean that it didn't piss him off.

You were his.

His princess- and soon to be queen, one day.

And he's planning on making that very evident, as he marks up your skin with little bites, visible for everyone to see. He wants everyone to know, even though by tomorrow, the entire Kingdom will celebrate the marriage of its prince anyways. He's more than ready to show you off, to hold you close, to have people see the divine being at his side that's you.

It's only natural for his hands to roam your skin, for his lips to worhip every inch it seems, as you reach out for his hand every second it leaves you. It's painfully endearing he thinks, how you can be so innocent and pure, while he's between your legs, performing the sinful act of pleasuring you with his mouth.

You pull him towards you, as you straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him. He's in god's divine lands he thinks, as he suddenly feels you sinking down on his awaiting length. You fit around him perfectly, more so than he could've ever imagined. And as you both move, he holds you close, happy that here, in his world, he doesn't need to breathe.

He can kiss you as long as he wants.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. I spilled strawberry milk on my poor laptop while writing this.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-Six

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: writing this chapter was so much fun but reading it was a train wreck so you’ll just have to find out yourself whether it’s actually good or not. hurt/comfort ahead

***

Most of Nesta’s days lately are spent holed up in her basement apartment, either studying for her finals or preparing for her move—which means that whenever Cassian wants to see her, she has to haul ass all the way to the cabin to make time for him.

Like now, on the morning of her birthday, as she stands in her pajamas and slippers in the middle of Cassian’s home gym. Staring at the reason behind his urgent phone call telling her to come over.

“It’s a pole,” she says dumbly.

“Happy birthday,” he says, looking proud of himself. “Consider it an incentive to move in faster, okay?”

“It’s a pole,” she repeats. Tall and gleaming, it stands in front of the wall of mirrors away from most of the workout equipment. “You installed a pole?”

The gift itself isn’t that surprising—Cassian could afford an entire pole dancing studio if he wanted to. What surprises her is that it’s installed here, in Cassian’s personal space. The gym is to Cassian what the reading nook is to Nesta, if not even more sacred. Nesta rarely enters it, but now… he’s extending a blatant invitation into his space.

“I know you already take classes with Gwyn and Emerie,” Cassian is saying, “but you haven’t gotten to go in a while because of school and work, so I thought it would be easier for you if I brought the dance studio over here.” He scratches his head, and Nesta’s eyes drift to the silver watch on his wrist. “You never told me you used to dance. I found out from Feyre, and she sent me videos of your old ballet recitals.”

“Did she?”

Cassian nods along. “You were good. You’re still good now, which is why you should wipe that look off your face and thank me for your gift.”

Nesta is sure she looks stupefied, but she doesn’t do anything to rein it in. She has so many thoughts, and she can only think of saying, “I don’t want to practice in front of you.”

“You don’t have to,” Cassian promises. “Other than early mornings, maybe evenings, the gym will be empty for you.”

Okay. “You—” Nesta starts, “You’re really okay with this?”

Cassian’s face drops in confusion. “Okay with what?” He looks at the pole and back at Nesta. “Do you not like it?”

“Are you okay with giving me part of the gym? Where are you going to go if you want to be alone?” She chews on her lip.

Cassian laughs. “Why would I want to be alone?”

Nesta shrugs. “I need it at least once a week. I figured everyone else was the same way.” Her alone spot in the cabin is her former bedroom from the first time she lived here. Cassian knows not to enter that room, and on days when she spends time in there he simply waits until she comes out. Nesta assumed the gym was close to being something like that for Cassian.

Realization crosses Cassian’s face. “Oh, you mean like your ‘special room’?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Nesta snipes. “I told you I don’t use it for masturbating.”

He comes over and swings a heavy arm around her shoulder. “Babe, if I wanted to be alone I wouldn’t stay in the house. I’d run the trails in the woods behind the cabin.”

“Really?” Her brows furrow. She didn’t know that.

“Look, am I gonna have to return the pole or not?” Cassian says, exasperated.

Nesta stares at him closely, and upon finding no other catch to his gift, she flings her arms around his torso. “I love it,” she declares into his chest. “I love it so much.”

His body tenses in surprise at her uncharacteristic outburst, but then she feels his strong arms wrapping around her too. “In that case, have I earned myself a private show?” he teases.

“I’ll give you so many private shows,” Nesta promises. At least, once she completes her 2L and has the time to learn how to use the pole. “Emerie and Gwyn are going to be so jealous,” she hums pridefully.

Cassian chuckles deeply, and the sound rumbles through his chest where Nesta’s head rests.

They stay holding each other in silence like that for a while, mostly because it’s too early for unnecessary conversing. When Nesta finally speaks up, it’s to say, “Did you really have to call me over at eight a.m. for this, though?”

“It’s your birthday.” Cassian strokes the hair away from her neck. “Don’t even think about sleeping,” he warns. “We’re spending the whole day together. Your sisters mailed gifts, and Gwyn and Emerie are coming over at noon.”

That works for her.

***

The week after her birthday, Nesta drops her resignation letter onto Rhysand’s desk with a heavy smack.

He looks up from the envelope to her. “What’s this?”

“I’m quitting,” she announces without flourish. “Thank you for the experience. Let’s never do it again.”

“But—you got paid more than anyone else in an assistant position ever would. And you weren’t too bad at your job for a student. What went wrong?” He picks up the letter as if he can’t believe his eyes.

Nesta’s stare is a deadpan one. “Let me guess: you thought I would take your free paychecks, use my connections to move up your nepotism ladder, and end up working at Night Court comfortably for the rest of my life?”

Rhysand sits back in his chair and raises a brow at Nesta. “This is a family business,” he says smoothly. “I thought you wanted to be part of the family?”

How funny of him. “I’m good,” she answers simply.

“You came all the way here to tell me this?” Here being Velaris, which gleams through the wall of windows behind Rhysand’s desk.

“I’m not here to see you,” Nesta says, the implication being left in the air. “I’m just stopping by.” Giving a short nod, she turns on her heel to leave.

“If you ever go looking for another job,” Rhysand calls after her, “tell me if you need a recommendation. I can get you into any position at any business.”

She pauses at the door and looks over her shoulder at Rhysand. “I already have recommendations. And a job.” Her summer clerkship at the local family law firm won’t pay a third of what she made here at Night Court, but it’s good enough for now. Combined with what she’s saved up so far, she’ll get through her final year of law school without issue.

At Rhysand’s surprised face, she takes her cue to leave.

Nesta didn’t intend on going all the way to personally meet the CEO to quit, but since Cassian has been in Velaris the whole weekend for work, she thought it would be nice to surprise Cassian with a visit and cut her ties with Night Court Inc. at the same time.

Night Court’s headquarters are huge, with the skyscraper easily being one of the tallest buildings in the city. Nesta nearly gets lost trying to find her way out of Rhysand’s offices.

When she finally spots the steel doors of the elevator, they’re about to slide shut on her. “Hold the door!” she calls out, kicking into a jog. An arm pushes out at the last second to stop the doors from closing, and Nesta slides into the elevator with a sigh of relief. The doors close after her, and she turns to thank the only other person in the elevator.

The man is already looking at her in surprise—surprise which slowly turns into a shark-like smile. “Nesta?”

Nesta’s blood goes cold. He can’t be.

“Remember me?” He points at himself, still grinning. “Keith? Keith O’Connell?”

She tries to swallow but her mouth is dry. “Yeah, I remember,” she gets out.

She remembers everyone she knew from college. She especially remembers Tomas’s closest friends.

Nesta realizes Keith is saying something to her. “What floor?” he asks.

“Uh…” Where was she going again? She can’t remember. She spits out a random number and lets Keith press the button.

Nesta turns her gaze to the flashing numbers above the doors, watching them go down and down. Why are there so many damn floors?

“Didn’t think I’d see you around here,” he goes on, trying to get her to meet his eyes. “Let me guess, you’re an intern?”

Nesta keeps her eyes glued to the floor numbers. “No.”

“Ah,” he hums. “Don’t tell me you’re still chasing that lawyer dream?”

When Nesta doesn’t respond, she finds five fingers on her jaw turning her face toward Keith’s.

She jerks out of his grip, indignant rage bubbling to the surface—rage that is almost immediately suppressed by dread and fear. She’s so small right now; she can’t remember how to be big and loud.

Keith grins, taking a step closer. “What’s wrong? I just asked a question.”

Her back bumps into the wall. She barely feels it. She might as well be back in the living room of her college apartment, sitting on the arm of the couch while Tomas makes snide remarks about her to Keith O’Connell and his other friends. She’s not allowed to leave, because then she’ll be the one who can’t take a joke.

Keith frowns disappointedly at the ground, as if he found a shiny toy just to discover that it doesn’t do any tricks. Now he’s bored. “Damn,” he says. “When you’re not busy being Tom’s bitch, I guess you’re just a bitch.”

Nesta wishes she could be a bitch right now. She wishes she could fight back. “What are you doing, Keith?”

He tilts his head at her. “I’m catching up with you. You got a boyfriend?” His beady eyes slide down her form, leaving a slimy feeling in their wake.

When her lips stay pressed in a firm line, he grabs her arm and laughs. “Come on, why’re you being so weird?” He shakes her by the elbow. “I won’t tell anyone if you do have a boyfriend, promise.”

Nesta hears a ding, and the elevator doors slide open. She doesn’t know whether it’s her floor or Keith’s floor, but she doesn’t care—she’s the first to pull away from him and make an exit. “See you,” she blurts before speedwalking out of the elevator.

Why the fuck did she say “see you”? She doesn’t want to see him ever again. He doesn’t deserve to see her ever again.

Behind her, she hears Keith chuckle again. “I’ll tell Tomas you said hi,” he calls after her.

***

Cassian finds Nesta huddled under a desk.

He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he spotted her hurrying out of the elevator on the eighteenth floor of Night Court’s headquarters, but soon enough he realized that yes, that was Nesta’s coat and Nesta’s hair. She was supposed to be back home studying for her first two finals, but instead she was here looking like she was going to be sick.

He was about to follow her when his eyes slid to the man that had gotten off the elevator after her. He didn’t like how O’Connell was staring after Nesta.

“We’re old college friends,” O’Connell shrugged dismissively when Cassian approached him. “I was just saying hi.”

Nesta doesn’t have any friends from college.

Which leads Cassian to a dim, abandoned meeting room, one that would seem fully empty if it wasn't for the sound of strained breathing coming from under the only desk.

He approaches the desk slowly, his worn sneakers coming into Nesta’s line of sight. Pushing the rolling chair away, he crouches down to get a better look at her.

Tinny music comes out of her earbuds, loud enough to drown out any other sounds. She stares past Cassian like she can’t even see him, and the hollowed out look in her eyes terrifies him for a moment. When she blinks, tears spill over onto her cheeks.

“Nes?” Carefully, Cassian reaches out to touch one of her earbuds. After a second of hesitation, he pulls it out and lets it fall.

Nesta sniffles once, then finally turns her teary gaze to Cassian. Her eyes widen a little bit as she croaks, “How did you find me?”

“I followed you. What are you doing here, baby?”

“Um—” Her voice cracks, and she swipes away her tears with the sleeve of her coat. She clears her throat and says, “I came to surprise you.”

“And how’d you end up under here?” Cassian pulls Nesta’s hand away from her face before the scratchy wool can redden her face further. Makeup is smudged around her eyes, and he tries to soothe the sensitive skin there with his thumbs.

Nesta’s other earbud drops out of her ear while he fusses, leaving her with nothing to listen to.

Cassian is quietly, studiously tucking stray hairs back into Nesta’s bun when she confesses, “I was weak.”

“How?” Concern pinches Cassian’s brow. “By crying in front of me?”

“I was completely helpless,” she goes on, her voice numb. “And I didn’t know how not to be that way. I hated it, it’s so stupid.” She tears up again. “I’m not supposed to be that stupid.”

“Tell me what happened,” Cassian demands. He can’t pretend to be patient anymore.

Nesta presses her lips together and stares down at her shoes. Nothing Cassian can think of can prepare him for when she says, “I ran into a friend of my ex.”

So that’s who he is. A frightening calmness settles over Cassian. “O’Connell?” he asks, though he already knows.

Nesta looks up. “You know him?”

He tightens his jaw but nods. “Move over.” Ducking his head, Cassian crawls under the desk to join Nesta. He has to hunch over in half to fit, but Nesta doesn’t seem to mind.

He has to give it to her—it’s not a bad hiding spot.

“What did he say to you?” He tries to sound steady, undisturbed.

“He didn’t need to say anything,” Nesta answers. “I lost my spine with one look from him. He had me under his thumb.”

“I see.” Cassian has made peace with the fact that Tomas Mandray has long since moved away, that he’ll never be able to track the shithead down and make him suffer. What he didn’t know, however, is that Mandray left his friends behind.

“Were you hurt?” is his next question. “Did he touch you?” Cassian doesn’t know what he’ll do if Nesta says yes, but he has to ask anyway.

“I’m not hurt,” she assures him. But her hands rub over her upper arms like she can feel the ghost of a touch there.

“I see,” he repeats. He watches her for a bit longer before stating, “You’re not stupid.”

Nesta’s huff is amused. “Thank you.”

“And don’t spend too much time thinking about O’Connell,” he mutters, nudging her knee with his. “I’ll get rid of him for good.” That is a promise that Cassian is happy to keep.

Nesta looks alarmed. “Like…murder him?”

Cassian laughs. “No, not like that. But you’ll never see him again, so I hope you’ve said what you needed to say to him.”

Nesta thinks for a moment, then nods. “That sounds good. I don’t have anything to say to him.” She inhales a deep breath. “I think I feel better now.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Cassian holds out a hand to her. “You wanna get out of here?”

She takes his hand and he helps her out from under the desk.

Nesta apparently booked a hotel room in Velaris to surprise Cassian with, but they both agree on the way to the parking lot that they’ve had enough of the city. Cassian chooses to leave his truck behind for Rhys to take care of, and he offers to drive Nesta’s car while she rests.

The ride home is long and quiet.

Nesta sits in silence with her earbuds in, her head leaning against the car window and one of her hands in Cassian’s. He drives with his free hand, sneaking glances over at her every so often just to make sure she really is okay.

It enrages him that someone from Nesta’s past found their way into her place of work. What if he and O’Connell weren’t working in Velaris this weekend, and Nesta bumped into O’Connell in the middle of town instead? It could have tainted any sense of safety she has with the small city she calls home.

Cassian has no plans on telling her that O’Connell is the team leader for the Milan project, or that he rents a small place on the outskirts of their town. Because soon enough neither of those things will be true, and there’s no use in unnecessarily worrying her.

He absentmindedly rubs his thumb over the back of Nesta’s hand.

When they finally pull up to the cabin, Nesta picks her head up from the window to look around. Spotting the other black car parked in the driveway, she makes a sound of disappointment. “Az is home.”

“We can stay in the car if you like,” Cassian offers. He’s in no rush to go inside and face other people, either.

Nesta pulls her heels off, bending over to rub her stockinged feet. “Maybe just for a little while.”

Cassian unbuckles his seatbelt, gesturing for Nesta to put her feet in his lap.

She obliges, looking too tired to refuse him. Cassian runs his hands up her legs and under her skirt, finding the waistband of her sheer black tights and tugging.

“What are you doing?” She jerks under his hands, eyes wide. “The car’s too small for this.”

He narrows his gaze at her. “Chill, horndog. I’m just making you comfortable.” He pulls the tights the rest of the way down her legs and off, freeing her skin.

Nesta gives a little sigh of relief at the feeling of air on her bare skin. She rubs her hands over her thighs in wonder, drawing Cassian’s gaze.

He meets her eyes, and she slowly curls her legs off his lap, tucking them underneath herself instead.

Elated to have Nesta’s undivided attention after two hours of silence, he leans over and slips his hand around her jaw, pulling her in for a kiss.

Her inhale is soft, surprised, before she relaxes against his mouth. Cassian kisses her once, twice, hoping it’ll remind her that she’s safe at his side. That nothing can make her weak.

He’s slow to pull away, and he opens his eyes to find that Nesta’s are still closed, her lips still parted. He stifles a smile and whispers, “I think we should head inside.”

“Mm-hm,” she nods eagerly.

They exit the car, Cassian carrying Nesta’s shoes and tights in one hand and Nesta running over to him barefoot.

He leaves little pecks along her jaw and neck as they enter the cabin, taking extra time to find any moles or beauty marks. She’s about to turn in his arms to face him when they both take notice of Azriel sitting in the living room. Cardboard boxes surround him, and he’s filling them up with books.

Cassian drops Nesta’s heels and tights onto the floor, bringing Az’s attention to him.

“Hey, bro,” Cassian says warily. “What are you doing?”

“Moving out,” Az answers.

Nesta chokes on a laugh. When no one laughs with her, her face drops. “You’re serious?”

Cassian thinks the same thing.

“I’m going back to Velaris,” Az shrugs, dropping some trinkets into a box. “I’m ready to face Elain. I’m taking accountability.” He says it like it’s the simplest decision ever, like he’s talking about bringing an umbrella to a picnic.

“Are you sure about this?” Cassian asks. Just a while ago his brother was terrified at the idea of entering a ten mile radius of Velaris.

“I’m packing, aren’t I?” Az says dryly.

“You’re packing our things,” Cassian points out.

Nesta gasps when she notices. “Hey, those are my books!” She hurries over to snatch one out of Azriel’s hand.

Azriel snatches it back with a dark look. “What goes in the box, stays in the box.”

Cassian sputters in disbelief, looking around at the scene before him. “I mean—can we ask what brought this on?”

“Maybe I did some self-reflection. Or maybe I finally got sick of you and Nesta hooking up while I’m in the same room, like you were about to do now.” Az shrugs, pulling out a roll of packing tape and tearing off a strip with his teeth. “Don’t act like you’re going to miss me,” he continues as he tapes one of the boxes shut. “You two have been waiting for this day for months, and I’m finally granting your wishes.”

Cassian and Nesta share a look, and Cassian says hesitantly, “This isn’t… a breakdown or something, right?”

Azriel narrows his hazel eyes at Cassian.

“Okay, okay.” Cassian holds his hands up in defense. He pulls his hoodie over his head and off in one swift movement and goes over to the couch to help his brother pack. He still doesn’t know what brought on this sudden change of heart, but he knows Az won’t tell unless he wants to.

Nesta remains standing where she is, confounded, before dropping down next to an open box and rifling through it. “I want compensation for anything of mine you’re taking,” she demands, pulling out various paperbacks one by one.

“So like a dime for every three trash porns,” Cassian tells Az.

“I’m upcharging,” Nesta says. Her hand stops rummaging through the box, and she pulls out a framed photo instead of a book. She turns her steely eyes to Azriel. “You can’t have this one.”

It’s a candid picture of Cassian, Nesta, and Azriel on the ski lodge trip. Cassian remembers the moment it was taken with vividness, because it was one of the rare moments on that vacation where all three of them were smiling at the same time.

“Emerie took this,” Nesta continues, “and she’s my friend, so by extent it’s mine.”

Az smiles politely at her. “You’re right, you should keep it,” he says. “You’re too ugly in that photo for me to take it.”

Nesta sneers back, but gets up to reset the photo on the fireplace mantle.

A day or two later, Cassian notices that the ski lodge picture is gone, frame and all. He sighs to himself and hopes Nesta won’t notice.

***

a/n: it’s official less than five parts left!! cassian’s revenge scene is gonna be hotter than every smut scene combined

tagging: @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99

[drakenology]

I Hate Everything About You - Dabi

warnings: ANGST, smut, daddy kink, mentions of rape,violence, AND swearing (cause im a potty mouth)

author’s note: this lil story is inspired by my favorite song I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace. im a lil emo bitch ok? I recommend listening to the song to get a better perspective of how the emotions of the lyrics and the story goes hand in hand. the chorus goes like “I hate everything about you. why do i love you?” and I immediately thought of something angsty and raw to write. hope yall enjoy! this one might be a little long.

summary: You and Dabi have worked together as villians for as long as you can remember but you two don’t get along at all. is this truly hatred or is this repressed feelings coming to surface?

You hated heroism. You viewed it as weak and meaningless. When both of your parents were murdered by an anonymous killer and no one came to their rescue when they could very well have been saved, something dark took over your spirit. You snapped. At the tender age of 17, your parents did not receive justice for the act of violence committed against them. The police told you there “wasn’t enough evidence” and that the killer had most likely killed himself.

There were simply too many holes in the case for it to be solved. Obviously this infuriated you. So much in fact that you planned to blow up the entire police precinct.

And you did.

Now being on the run at only 17 you fell into a life of crime, committing yourself to being a villain who killed police officers off duty earning yourself the villain name “Cop Killer” from the authorities. Not to mention your very dangerous quirk called “Leech”. You were able drain anyone you gazed at of their blood, the gaze having to be completely focused on the person’s eyes. Once concentrated enough it becomes hard for the person to look away from you. To trigger your quirk, you have to say the word “leech” in order to essentially stop the flow of someone’s blood to their heart; their blood being extracted from their veins to yours. The blood only made your quirk stronger as you can now manipulate it and use it in combat. You had enough control to where you could take a little or take it all. The stolen blood was also good for increasing your stamina and speed for a short period, manifesting a weapon with the blood you stole and of course leeching the person of their blood entirely, instantly killing them. The murders you committed granted you the number one spot of Japan’s wanted list. You were also the youngest assasin in Japan at the time so you had to move around a lot. You spent your teenage years living in abandoned buildings and sketchy motels; robbing, stealing and of course murdering for survival.

The day you met the League of Villains was your 23rd birthday. As a treat to yourself, you had cornered one of the dirtiest cops you had ever encountered. He was a known sex trafficker, a thief as well as a disgusting rapist. You had him right where you wanted him; wearing a disguise to hide your true visage in order to avoid being recognized. You had pretended to be a love interest to the cop, sitting in the seedy hotel room he rented to have a little “privacy” with you.

“Oh baby, you don’t know what you do to me. I wanna see that pretty little mouth of yours around my cock. Get on your knees for me.” The police man said, the sleazy bastard unbuckling his belt. You nod, secretly being disgusted by this man. But you had to keep your cool. You got down on your knees and took his hard cock into your hands and pumped, looking him directly in the eyes as you did so.

“Yeah, baby. You’re so hot.” He groaned, keeping his eyes locked on yours almost instinctively as sweat collected on his brow.

“Thanks.. but your time’s up, you sick fuck.” you say, standing up on your feet. You straddle him, watching the cop’s eyes become terrified as he finally realizes who you really are.

“Leech.” You say as you watched your quirk take effect. The reaction was instant as he starts to gasp and grab at his heart, clinging onto his last minutes of life as he died on the hotel bed. You moan as his blood is transferred into yours, creating a dagger out of his blood. You slice his neck, licking whatever was left off of his cold throat. You laugh, searching his dead body to take whatever he had on his person; money, personal possessions and his gun. Just as you’re about to get up and leave you get the feeling that you aren’t alone. You turn and see none other than the villain you had seen all over local news.

Shigaraki. 

He chuckles dryly, admiring your work at killing the cop underneath you.

“Well done, little girl.” He said, peering over your shoulder to get a good look at the mess you made of him. You go to ask how the hell he got into the room until you hear the sound of police sirens blaring outside. 

“We have the entire hotel surrounded. There are Heros on the way to assist us. Surrender now or face the consequences.” You hear the cops say on a megaphone.

“Shit.” You mumble, quickly grabbing your things; planning your escape in your head.

“Listen, I’ve admired your work since your attack on that police station, Cop Killer.” Shigaraki said. “We could use someone like you in the League of Villains. My friend Kurogiri here can get us both out of here in one piece. But only with your consent of course.”

You think for a moment. You’d rather make a smooth escape than risk being arrested. So you agree. 

“We’ll explain everything once we get back to base.” Kurogiri says, morphing himself through the cracks of the door. 

Kurogiri takes both you and Shigaraki and consumed you both into his portals, leading you to the secret hide-out of the League of Villains. You look around, your vision a little hazy from being in the dark portal. You see a few other people standing in the lobby. A guy with a weird mask on with two sides on it eagerly introduced himself as Twice. You see a cute girl that looked a little young to be in a place like this. 

“Toga Himiko. Nice to meet ya. Hey, you’re way prettier in person. The police drawing of you is really unflattering.” She says, waving at you. You smile meekly as you turn away to see this guy standing at the corner of the bar. He had burn scars all over his face and neck, dark hair and the most mysterious eyes you’ve ever seen. You met his gaze when you noticed him staring at you, sizing you up. You found his stare threatening and kind of alluring. You almost couldn’t look away. 

“Don’t stare at me for too long, Cop Killer. I know what those eyes can do.” He said sarcastically, not even caring to introduce himself. He felt familiar, like you’ve known him for a long time. You rolled your eyes and walked over to Shigaraki. 

“Look, if you think just because you got me out of a tight spot that I’m just gonna beg to work for you, you’re wrong. I work alone.” You said, adjusting the top of your outfit. 

“I know. But today that changes. You see, we’ve been watching you, Cop Kill-” He says, interrupted by your loud groan.

“My name is Y/N. Please just call me by my name. My mother didn’t name me Cop Killer.” You demand, folding your arms in protest. 

“But that’s what you are, Y/N. Don’t be ashamed.” Shigaraki says, inching closer to you. “Look, the services of the League of Villains aren’t free. We helped you. Now you help us. You understand don’t you, Y/N?” 

You sigh, wishing you had just leapt out of a nearby window back at the hotel instead of taking help from this creep. 

“Fine.” You say, looking down at your shoes. 

“Wonderful.” Shigaraki says, walking away from you. “Oh and one more thing. I hate back talkers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months pass and you’re well acquainted with all the villains of the organization. You were all usually partnered up for missions; you always alternating between Toga and Dabi, who had finally told you his “name”. You grew to be pestered by Dabi. You’d much rather be paired up with Toga than Dabi any day since you and Dabi just could not get along, you both arguing like an old married couple at every mission. You couldn’t stand him. His cockiness, his elitist attitude, his aloofness. He hated you because of your attitude, you thinking you knew better than everyone else. He thought you were a spoiled brat who hasn’t done anything remarkable to even earn a spot in the League. To you, he was everything you despised about some men. 

One night you were all playing a friendly game of Blackjack; which seemed to be a ritual between the members. Shigaraki didn’t bother playing but Kurogiri always seemed to watch. 

“Ugh.. Fold. What do I have to do to get a decent fucking hand, huh?” Twice said, his two voices seeming to contrast in differing personality. You laugh, slamming down a perfect hand worth 21. 

“I stand, bitches.” You say, winning yet another round. 

“I’m bored.” Dabi says, standing up and leaving the table. 

“Oh don’t be like that, Dabi. Come back!” Toga says, throwing her cards down. She sighs and stands up from the table. “Well, I guess that’s it. I’m goin to bed. Nighty night, Y/N. Twice.” Everyone went their separate ways. You walk into your room and change into something more comfortable and walk outside to get some air. To your dismay, Dabi was already standing outside in the same spot you liked to chill and think. 

“Yo.” He says, referring to you. You roll your eyes and walk over to him. 

“What?” You say, annoyed to the point where you just want to turn around and go back inside. 

“Aw, what’s wrong, Cop Killer? Don’t like me?” He asks, inching closer to you to whisper in your ear. You stand still for a moment and lunge at him, grabbing his throat and pushing him against the wall. 

“Stop fucking testing me.” You say sternly, looking him deeply in the eyes with the intention to kill. 

“Careful, little girl. You might just turn me on.” He says, grabbing your arm and pushing you back. You freeze, stunned at the sudden harsh movement from the tall man in front of you. ”You’re 5′4′’, sweetheart. If I wanted to, I could end you without even using my quirk. You ‘oughta be nicer to me.” 

You get angrier by the second, yelling and screaming about how much you hate him all while trying to take jabs at him, throwing punches at his face. Dabi dodges every swing, smirking at your abilities. He was impressed, but he’d never tell you that. 

“Huh. Keep it up and you might actually hit me.” He teased, swinging back at you, landing right on your jaw. You stumble and collect yourself, charging towards him once more. You were certain you’d hit him, the blood from someone you’ve killed earlier that day increasing your speed. 

“Fuck you.” You hiss, taking another swing at him and connect, landing right on his cheek. He smirks, wiping blood from his mouth. You get cocky and go for another punch only for him to dodge you. He grabbed your arm and twisted it, pinning you against the brick wall in front of him with your back facing him. 

“When?” He asked in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You hated that he could so easily overpower you, making you despise him even more. He releases you from his grip and stands close to you; you feeling the warmth of his skin radiating from his body. 

“Listen. You hate me and quite frankly I can’t stand you either. But you don’t see me attacking you. Try it again and I won’t be so nice next time, little girl.” Dabi said, grabbing your face to daringly look into your poisonous eyes to mock your quirk. You focus, ready to end this asshole. Suddenly his lips crash into yours. At first, you’re disgusted and fucking pissed. But then you feel yourself start involuntarily melting into his kiss. So you kiss him back with no shame, all bitter feelings leaving your mind as the kiss gets more intense. You feel his hands groping and caressing your body, his hands exploring to stop at your neck; wrapping it around. You gasp, feeling yourself get hot. 

“The first time I saw you, I thought you were the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. And then you spoke. And I couldn’t stand you. But I couldn’t shake this feeling of wanting to bend you over and punish you for your slick mouth. You need a good hard dicking to keep your mouth shut and I’m the one to give it to you. That’s what you want too, isn’t it?” He asked, starting to kiss your neck harshly. You moan, embarrassed at his words. He was right. You found him attractive as soon as you saw him but his attitude rubbed you the wrong way. But right here and now, you realize that you might have been hiding your true feelings behind a façade of hatred. You wanted him too and you couldn’t stand it. 

“I’m talking to you, Y/N.” He persists, biting into your neck. You mewl, shocked at how good he was making you feel. You almost couldn’t believe you were in this situation. It was confusing but formalities could come later. You wanted him now. 

“Yes, Dabi. I wanted you to fuck me the first time I saw you.” You say quietly, feeling him reach under your shirt and bra to grab at your naked breast. You bit your lip, feeling slick pool between your legs as you fall victim to his touch. 

“Get inside and go in my room. I expect you to have nothing on when I get there. Understood?” He demands, pinching your nipple lightly. You gasp, nodding at his request. 

“Words. You’ve already made me angry with that stunt you pulled punching me in the face. I wouldn’t try me further.” He said, grabbing your hair and pulling it to expose more of your neck. You moan, unable to control yourself suddenly. It’s like he knew exactly what to do to turn you on. Fucking asshole.

“Y-Yes, daddy- I-I mean Dabi.” You flush. Damn. You couldn’t believe you let that slip. He laughs, kissing your lips once more as he lets you go. 

“Daddy works just fine.” Dabi says smirking, watching you stumble towards the door to go back inside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You knew you should just go into your own room but, God you wanted to see what he’d do to you for almost punching him. You wondered how rough he’d be, your panties soaking at the thought as you gulp and open his room door. You sat on his bed and took off your clothes, leaving your underwear on to tease him. Suddenly his door opens and it’s him. He looked you up and down, loving what he saw. But to his dismay you had on too many clothes still. 

“I thought I told you to get naked, little girl.” Dabi said, pushing you onto his bed. He stood above you, running his fingers down your stomach and stopping at the waistband of your panties. You shudder at his cold fingers. 

“You never said naked.” You tease, looking back at him. He frowns, shaking his head. 

“Man, you just love pushing my buttons don’t you? You’re gonna regret teasing me so much.” He says, pulling your panties down roughly, holding them up to his face. He smirked at the wet spot he saw on them, throwing them onto the ground. “This is gonna be fun.”

You hiss as he slid one measly finger inside you while rubbing your bundle of nerves with his thumb, the single finger not being enough to satisfy your craving for that certain pleasurable stretch. Somehow though, Dabi was making you feel good with that one finger. You roll your hips for more friction only to have Dabi hold you down with his other hand. 

“Stop squirming so much. It makes you look desperate, doll.” He teased earning a whine from you. As if to be a little forgiving he adds another finger, watching your face twist up in pleasure. You were visually trying to hide your moans, Dabi not liking that at all. 

“Come on now. It’s no fun if you don’t scream for me. Let everyone here know how good I make you feel.” He said, halting his movements. You nod, moaning loudly as he adds a third finger. Any shame or embarrassment is gone as he worked you up to your first orgasm. You grab at his sheets, trying to move for more friction only to once more be overpowered by Dabi. 

“You don’t listen too well do you? I said stop squirming. You’ll have your fill but good girls wait to cum. Understand? I expect you to address me correctly this time.” He says, grabbing your face to make you look at him. Something about knowing you could kill him with your eyes turned him on, because he knew he could keep you from doing so. All he had to do was please you, knowing you won’t be able to focus on anything but screaming his name let alone his eyes. 

“Y-Yes daddy.” You mewl, your eyes rolling back as he pulled out one of your breasts, sucking on your nipple harshly. The sound of your moans was music to Dabi’s ears, the only thing he ever wanted to hear come out of your mouth. He cooed praises into your ear, telling you hot sexy you are and how et your pussy is just for him. He crawls on top of you, pulling his fingers out of you as you whine at the sudden loss. He kissed you, ripping your bra off. He sat up and stared at the gorgeous naked woman underneath him. 

“You’re so hot when you’re not talking shit.” He says, playing with your boobs. He was unsure of where to start. He wanted to please every inch of your lovely curves, his eyes drinking in your hips up to your beautiful breasts. He nearly drooled at the sight of them, your nipples seeming to perk up when he looked at them. You stare back at the man on top of you, his scars almost complimenting his skin as you watched him take off his shirt. You bit your lip as you feel a nice sized bulge grind up against your dripping core. You didn’t even notice that his pants were off, drooling at the sight of his body overpowering yours. He grinded up against you, leaning in close to your ear. 

“Ready to get fucked, sweetheart?” He asked, nibbling on your ear lobe. 

“Yes, god, yes!” You gasp, feeling him take off his boxers. He positioned his dick at your entrance, tapping it against you to tease you. You moan, going to grab his cock and shove it inside you but you think twice, already in trouble with him. Dabi smirks, excited to break you as he shoved himself inside you and started to rut his hips into you. You moan sinfully at the sudden stretch, loving how he filled you. You feel him speed up, not even fully adjusted to his length as you clawed at his back for dear life. 

“You’re takin me so well, doll.” He said, grabbing your neck to lightly choke you. Your eyes roll back as you reveal a sinful ahegao face while he pounds you senseless. You’re moaning his name and telling him how good he feels inside you, cussing and screaming into the air as you feel yourself coming close to cumming.

“C-Can I-?” You ask, unable to finish your sentence as you feel yourself clenching around him. Dabi is relentlessly prodding at your g-spot, causing you to see stars as he notices he’s hitting that special spot. He smirks and angles himself so that he’s repeatedly hitting that spot, watching you cover your mouth as you scream. He snatched your hand away from your mouth and pinned it above your head. 

“Tell me you’re sorry for punching me, kitten.” He demands, harshly pinching your nipples. You shake your head no to tease him. “No? Must need more convincing, huh brat?” He pulls out of you, you letting out a pathetic sob at the loss. He roughly flips you on your stomach and plants a hard smack on your ass. You yelp, your pussy aggravated as it throbs at the feeling of pleasure. He yanks you towards him and shoves himself back inside you, you laying flat on your stomach. You kick and scream under him, feeling him so deep it blinds you. 

“Oh my god, daddy!” You whine, shoving your face into your pillow as he assaults your g-spot. 

“Say it.” He demands, landing another hard smack on your ass this one sure to leave a mark. 

“I-I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry!” You scream, desperate for release. 

“Good girl.” He hisses. Dabi grabs your hair and lifts your head off the pillow wanting to hear the last moans you can give before you cum. 

“Go ‘head and cum for me. You’ve earned it.” He says. And just like that you clench around him hard, your orgasm washing over your body as you cum all over his dick. He rides out your orgasm, only to continue pounding you earning a sharp yelp from you as you throw your head into the pillow again.

“You didn’t think it was over did you? That’s cute.” He said, taking you further. At this point you’re overstimulated, the pleasure almost painful as he worked you to another orgasm. 

“God, I love you!” You scream to his delight as you cum quicker than your mind can keep up. 

“I love you too. Even though you’re fucking annoying.” He hisses, unable to hold himself back anymore. He cums hot inside you, grunting as he slaps your ass one last time before pulling himself out. You moan softly, breathing heavily as he cleaned you up. He kissed up your body, you unable to move from being completely fucked out of your mind. 

“When you socked me, I knew you were a keeper.” He laughed. 

“Shut up.” You say, smiling into your pillow. 

“HEY, YOU TWO DONE IN THERE? YOU COULD HAVE WOKEN UP THE ENITRE CITY WITH ALL THAT RACKET!” Twice shouted through the walls, turning your face red with shame. 

“SHUT UP AND MIND YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!” Dabi yelled back, rubbing soft circles on your ass to soothe his harsh marks on both cheeks. 

bitch i.. i’m sick. 

[wizkiddx]

stop caring

yooo, so this is actually taken out of one of the sort of I guess series-esque things I’ve written, but it kinda just got shit at the end so I've given up and just wanted to post this instead. So sorry if some of the backstory isn't that clear or anything

tomhollandxfamous!reader

Summary: after your break up you bump into tom at a charity event and when shit hits the fan personally for you, someone who understands you is really what you need (angsty!!! maybe a bit of fluff too?)

TW: panic/anxiety attacks + mentions of assault

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3 months. 3 months you’d managed to avoid the boy that had given you the most joy in the previous years. 3 months without your best friend; of even when you’re with company feeling like a part of you was just absent. 

And you had been thriving. Well… that’s what everyone thought. That’s what you tried to portray, because no matter how ‘famous’ or ‘successful’ people perceived you to be - ultimately you were like anyone else. Making your insta pop off after the breakup. And so to the outside world, through the very very small lense of social media life was great. Parties, friends, work. 

You were a woman in demand - in all senses of the word. 

But of course, as is the 21st century world, it was a lie. Instagram showed only snapshots of what can be very long 24 hours in a day. Naturally, a select few obviously knew - your best friend, Y/f/n being one of them. Yet still you were missing that one support, that one person who would drag you back to reality whenever you got too much into your own head. It actually rather annoyed you, how dependent you had got on him, in every part of your life. 

And you really hadn’t expected to see him here today. You’d had your assistant check the guest list, he wasn’t on it. While getting ready, you had avoided all the products that reminded you of him; that soft nude lipstick he loved you in so much; your favourite (exfavourite) earrings. Had you known it, you would have worn these. Just because you knew it would get on his nerves a little bit. Nevertheless here you were, perhaps a little underdressed for the charity dinner in a dress you’d already worn before (because apparently that was a sin in the world of Hollywood). You couldn’t pin point from when, but it was simple yet elegant if you did say so yourself. A dark blue satin dress, that sat off your shoulders in a Bardot style; hugged your waist to accentuate your curves; then flowed outwards down to the floor with a slit up your right leg. It was simple compared to the sequin studded, diamanté jewelled dresses the rest of the women seemed to sport but it made you feel comfortable. 

Besides, that’s what you needed today. This was the first time after the breakup you’d attended a public event without your best friend-turned-assistant-turned-absolute-life-saver. Y/f/n had been the greatest with you all through your life but especially recently, she deserved the break to go back home and see her family. It was a pretty decent excuse too, her cousins wedding, so you were in absolutely no place to complain.

Evidently it just HAD to be this event then, while you were flying solo, that you’d be faced with…well with his face. His fucking gorgeous, perfect and oh so sweet face. 

Just seeing him, just seeing Tom fucking Holland, had the most intense burst of adrenaline course through your veins as you desperately scanned the rest of the room. Looking for an out, an excuse, someone to latch onto for the rest of the night. A distraction even. 

Never one to admit it openly, but really you knew your coping mechanism of the past months had been to sleep with who you wanted. Because the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else right? You knew it was stupid too. Not because of slut shaming or anything ( we aint got no outdated views here), but simply it wasn’t you. It wasn’t a good idea for you. It didn’t fit. 

Tom hadn’t seen you yet, so if you latched onto someone you’d likely be in the clear. So obviously, when your frantic glances landed upon Joe Keery, you literally sighed in relief. Joe was great, stranger things was a bit of a guilty pleasure for you - especially when you were in your trailer and bored. Just due to your line of work, you’d met a couple times, he seemed like decent crack and to you knowledge was single. 

Unsurprisingly then, you almost marched over to Joe, ignoring the slightly shaky feeling in your leg as your hearing seemed to focus completely on the sound of Tom’s bright laugh. 

It was your choice too. You’d chosen to end things. It was on you. Well really, both parties were equally guilty. Tom was the one who had been too tired and highly strung and exhausted to put effort into the relationship. Stupidly though, you were too in love to realise for so long, in doing so draining yourself in the process. The constant flying cross country to see him, when he couldn’t ever return the favour because he was too busy. It was chipping away at you, even if you didn’t notice. It took an intervention by your manager Davey and Y/f/n for you to see things for what they were. To see that Tom didn’t care as much as he used to. 

He tried to fight for it, of course Tom did, because he also truly and deeply loved you. Nonetheless though, it was too late. And that was it. You closed that book and returned it to the library. Something your mind occasionally drifts back to  and you think ‘huh that was a good read’ - yet that is the only space it occupies in your mind. 

OR that’s how it should be. Not you yesterday, comparing everything your date did to Tom and deciding everything was worse. Not you today, seeing him and nearly being floored by the way the suit was tailored to his body oh so exquisitely. Not you now, hearing his bubbly laughter and having to fight your muscles from taking you back into his arms. 

In short, you were highly strung and pining over a boy you’d killed your chance of happiness with. 

Not to blow your own horn, you knew Joe wouldn’t be against having your company for the evening. After all, you were a young, beautiful and upcoming actor. You were ,at the very least, self aware. And so for a good few hours you almost forgot about Toms presence, spending the time before the speeches sharing a ridiculously overpriced bottle of wine (or two) with him. He was funny. He made you laugh, even if he was pushing the limits occasionally and teetering just on the right side of socially acceptable. It was risky and in that moment, with the alcohol in your system, it made him seem more and more of an attractive shag. 

By the time the speeches started you were both overly giggly and had to keep shushing each other as the presenter called for quiet. Inherently, you knew exactly the location of Thomas - who he was sat around; the main he’d had at dinner; the brand of beer he’d been ordering.But that was subconscious. You were here with Joe. 

Under your voices, whilst getting some disapproving looks from the older, more mature, members of your table you and Joe sat through the first boring speech whispering jokes under your breath - making each other clamp their mouth shut to avoid bursting out laughing. Though tipsy, you were very aware of Joe inching closer and closer, while his hand was casually brushing yours or your shoulder or waist more often. You knew this was low, being so blatant in front of Tom. To be quite frank though, should you care? And did he care?

The answer in your head at least, was an almost certain no to both. 

One speech merged into another spent giggling away until Joe did something he didn’t mean. Heck he didn’t even know. His jesting quickly had toppled completely over into absolutely not category. Your brain felt like it was swimming as the name you’d avoided after that incident , almost ten years ago. The flashbacks came thick and fast. You an innocent young actor wanting to make a way in the industry. And him. A powerful, ridiculously important slightly overweight 50 year old with bad breath. That room in the corner of his hotel that you were completely lost in. 

You were going to be sick. 

Somewhere, distantly, you heard Joe saying something… asking you? Asking you if your were good? It was drowned out by a roar in your ears, you jerkily nodded your head. You knew your breathing was jilted, shaky and shallow. You knew your heart was exploding. It actually felt like a heart attack, the way it seemed to be beating as though it were going to break out of your chest. This time you really really needed an out. 

So without any words, leaving a bemused Joe, your chair screeched on the floor as you stood up, garnering the attention of the whole room. The heads literally swivelled to stare at you, judgement clearly there as you frantically half ran to the back of the room, pleading if your head fro the toilet to be nearby. You needed to be away from everyone and safe. 

Thankfully your escaped the room and the beady eyes, locating the bathroom where you threw a cubicle open, shakily locking it before collapsing into the wall in floods of tears, harsh sobs racking your frame as you clutched your hands to your knees and rocked slightly back and fourth. You dress being a full length ballgown was spilling out into the the nearby cubicles and under the door, but presumably you were alone in the loo - not hearing any other signs of life beyond your own sobs. 

This always happened when you had your anxiety attacks. It was like clockwork. Zone out, stop hearing, loose control of breathing, heart starts pounding, make a quick escape to a toilet, cry and then…

Well back before Tom, it had been to throw up. That was the only thing you’d ever found to ground you enough to get your body backorder your own conscious control. It was like a wave of relief after, like the drowning feeling in your lungs had just evaporated away. But the Tom happened. The first time he’d seen you panic he hadn’t a clue what to do either. SO he had just sat with you, not wanting you to be alone in that state and waited. That panic though, had lasted so long that you’d almost made yourself pass out from the hyperventilating. When that had happened, Tom had gone into emergency mode. He had been scared to touch you, in case that made you worse, but when he saw your body going limp he didn’t have a choice. He’d collected you into his arms, with your head against his chest. Being this close to calling an ambulance, the relief Tom felt when your breathing got more and more regular was unparalleled. 

Together, when he had you lying in his bed (recovered, if mortified and exhausted) was when you realised that you hadn’t been sick. And that was because of him. You’d grounded yourself on his heartbeat and breathing, listening to it and making yours sync up. Thats what had saved you that evening. 

Now however, Tom was gone. This was the first panic attack you’d had since he’d been gone. Of course while you were together you were rarely in the same place, even so you’d phone him. But not now. 

This all led to you sat clutching your knees as your mascara dripped down your cheeks as you had to fight to get enough oxygen into your body. You didn’t want to get into that vicious cycle of making yourself ill again. It really hadn’t been healthy.

Who knows how long you were sat there sobbing before you heard the door open and in response you clamped a hand to your mouth trying to stay silent. This irrational fear overcame you as you sat stock still, fearing the footsteps on the marble floor of the fancy function venue. Even the toilets were pretty posh. 

“Y/n?…. It’s-it’s Tom.” Oh. My. Fucking. God. That was all that was going through your brain as you bit you lip - presumably painfully, yet you didn’t really feel pain in your current state.  “Look I saw you leave and I know your on your own tonight… I-I couldn’t leave you on your own if your… well you know.” Everything was going so so fast in your brain, that it actually scared you into stopping crying, so much so you felt your hand flop back down to your side. “…I was waiting outside because I didn’t want to errr you know… but you’ve been 20 minutes so I need to know your good…..okay?”

The boy was too fucking good. And stubborn… he was too stubborn and you knew he wasn’t going to give in. It was also fairly evident that he knew you in here - there was no pretending you didn’t exist. 

“Y/n? Come on you gotta let me know.”

“I’m fine. You-you go.” Only when you spoke was it evident to yourself just how not-okay you really were. Tom just chuckled and spoke again.

“How long have you known me for? That’s just not going to happen is it.” You already knew this, but something about the way he said it made you realise a sad laugh, momentarily making you feel a bit more in control. He seemed to like that response, you heard him bend down and then saw the bottom of his tux as he sat down leaning against your cubicle door.

“Is …is this your first one… since?  You both know what he was talking about. Since you broke up. 

“Uhmm I-“ You swallowed down a fresh rise of nausea, somewhat determined to not throw up when you ex is barely a metre from you. “Yeh I suppose.” In didn’t seem a revelation to Tom, yet he still hummed lowly in response as the room drifted back to silence. 

“You… you wanna try to breath with me?… You don’t have to open the door just…”

Croaking a please in response because this feeling was really blood awful and you wanted it to end, Tom started exaggerating his breathes, as you shakily and eventually managed to start to time it with his. Without thinking, when Tom’s palm snuck half under the door you immediately grabbed and squeezed it - the contact helping to synchronise your body with his. 

It should be an alien feeling after your time apart. But no it felt oh so natural and so very right. 

Once you’d collected yourself and realised how bloody stupid this whole situation was  you withdrew your hand back, loosing the warmth as you shook your head in disapproval of yourself. So very fucking stupid. He was silent for a bit, letting you think things through whilst still sat outside your cubicle. 

“You good now?” You hummed in agreement and you felt Tom’s head fall against the door, looking up to the ceiling. “Want me to go?”

“If you want to” That was met with silence, but a very telling lack of movement that spoke a thousand words.

“You should get out of here… you wanna avoid the trigger again and I mean I know you’re exhausted.” The boy had researched panic disorder and attacks when he found out you suffered with it - he probably knew more of the psychology of it than you, whilst never having any first hand experience of it.  Annoyingly he was right, as per, after attacks you always always slept for hours - it was just a draining process. “I’ll get you a car if you want?…. I’d like to make sure you get back okay if you don’t mind.” With only your cold and empty residual feeling left, his words still managed to ignite a spark of warmth in your chest. 

“I’m not going to ruin your evening Tom.” You tried to refuse even if it was very very forced and very very hopeful he wouldn’t give in. 

“I was having a crappy evening. Sitting in the ladies toilet talking to my ex through a toilet door has actually been the highlight.”He chuckled playfully in a self pitying way, somehow again making you giggle. And so he had you standing on slightly unsteady feet, your black heels held in one hand because no wasn’t the time to put yourself through teetering around on pin needles. The shuffling outside the door meant Tom stood up too - before you unlocked the door and opened it. 

Prior to seeing Tom your eyes locked on the sight of your reflection, in the mirrors above the sinks opposite you. Perhaps the only way to describe it… it was a sight. The shock being in the juxtaposition between the elegant dress, which even having been crumpled on a bathroom floor had somehow managed to survive and still look near the off-the-hanger; but your face? Oh that was a shit show. You’d cried your makeup off almost completely, leaving your face blotchy and shining as well as the ever so telling smudged mascara under your bottom lash line. 

You had to laugh or you’d just start to cry.

“Don’t worry I’ve seen you much worse.” You saw in the reflection as Tom leaned in and whispered in your ear, making your eyes roll and head shake as you looked from him back to you. 

“I look like a paps dream.” Without instruction, Tom bolted into a nearby cubicle, wrapping layers of toilet roll round his hand before offering it to you as a makeshift wipe.

“This is the glamour of Hollywood don’t you know? Wiping your face with bog roll”Thankfully taking it, you offered Tom a thankful smile as he stepped back, giving you space as he leant against another cubicle pillar. Once you finished up blotting your face, Tom had already shrugged off his jacket walking toward you as he offered it out. Tilting your head to the side in a questioning manner Tom just shrugged, saying it’d help avoid the paparazzi just in case. In reality you weren’t so sure, but anyhow you still appreciated the gesture and draped it round your shoulders with a muttering of thanks. 

At this point his phone pinged, the car was outside, so without any words exchanged he led you to the door, checked the hallway was clearly before guided you back to the exit. There didn’t appear to be anybody lurking around, which you were oh so thankful for as you almost threw yourself in to the safety of the blacked out car. Tom followed and you both, almost comically as if scripted, released a sigh in unison as you melted into the seats. That had you chuckling dryly as you sat in silence. 

“You know we can’t move till you say where you’re staying?” Teasing you, Tom shot you that ever mischievous grin that made the blood rush through your skin. After you’d told the driver, the car pulled swiftly out the laibi.

“Did he…did he say something?” Tom’s demeanour had steeled up and you looked questioningly up at him. “Joe… you looked…close.”

“Oh”. You were taken aback. You should have seen this coming to be fair, him asking for the trigger this evening - and yet you were more shocked at his jealousy. How he looked pained to mention Joe by name. “Um no… well sort of…it was a joke. He didn’t mean it but it er…it took me back.” Tom knew your history, he knew what happened all those years ago and he nodded slowly , keeping his eyeline straight ahead. 

“He’s a dick.”

“No he’s not…. He- he was sweet enough . It was all me.”

“What?”

“I pushed myself on him. I-I saw you… I was spooked.” Tom left it to drift back to silence. He had a lot of thinking to do too. 

He’d obviously kept up to date with you. Call it a professional interest. That was the problem being in love with someone when you weren’t allowed to be. But it hurt like hell, especially when he heard what you were doing. Because he knew this wasn’t you. He knew you sleeping around wasn’t going to help you recover - in fact he thought (and quite correctly) it was the opposite. That long term it’d only cause you more and more pain. 

“You know, you don’t have to do this?… I-I know it isn’t you. I’m not insulting or anything I’m… I’m just worried.” You knew he was being truthful . And infuriatingly he was right. Which only made it even more annoying. 

“Why do you care though?” Looking out the window that was all you could think to say. That was your subconscious talking as you didn’t really want the answer. Or you desperately did but you knew it’d be hard to get over. 

“Y/n” He sighed, making you look across at him “I’ve not stopped caring… I’ll never stop caring.”

Wasn’t that just a knife to the heart. You held your breath momentarily, not knowing what to think (nervermind say) in response to that. Everything in that car seemed to freeze, Tom’s eyes piercing the deepest and darkest parts of your mind as he stared at you. You both really weren’t over it. You were both hurting. You missed each other.

And you were about to dive in all over again. 

But then the indicator ticked on. The car pulled to a stop. The ignition switched off by the driver. You were at your hotel. The journeys end - quite literally. 

Tom felt it too. He knew if ever there was a chance, however rogue and unlikely, of you two working things out it was within this journey. And he’d failed.

“I-uh…I-this is me” Stammering through, distracted by the way Tom’s eyes shone with disappointment. 

‘Yeh - yeh it is I guess.”

“Well er… thanks for, well you know… for saving me. You er-you really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to”

“Yeh well er thanks…. And er-Oh! Your jacket” You realised, already tugging the tailored suit jacket from your shoulders. 

“No no it’s really okay. I have loads anyway.” See?In Hollywood you really weren’t allowed to wear the same thing twice. 

“Oh-okay. Well er….I’ll see you around I guess?”

“Can I walk you to your room, just to-check no one bothers you?” Tom was trying. Desperately trying. He could feel you slipping through his fingers again, this time he wanted to put up more of a fight. You shook your head thought, a sad smile gracing your lips. 

“I’d say yes but I think I know where that’d end up…. And I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Defeatedly nodding, Tom just smiled in a tight-lipped fashion, equally as sadly at you. 

“I’ll errr I’ll see you around.” While gathering yourself and preparing to exit the car, your hand on the door handle. Tom responded with a ‘yeh’ but before you left you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, before whispering under your breath..

“Thankyou Tom.”

part 2 ish of sorts --> link

[youalexturnermeon]

Warm Beer and Cold Women Pt.3 (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Part 1

Part 2

Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon

A/N: Before you read you should know that I adjusted the timeline a little, all mistakes in the timeline that you are noticing are on purpose. Also I decided to let johnny keep his black Cobra Kai car in that one. Then I’m perfectly aware of the fact that I lowkey drifted away from the actual request but don’t worry, I’m coming back to that. It’s the second last part to this little series. Enjoy.

Warnings: badass reader, drinking, DUI, swearing, ANGST, a little fluff

Wordcount: 2650

"Jesus Christ, (Y/N), thank god you're finally here!" was the first thing you heard from Jenny as soon as you set foot into the bar for yet another late shift on a boring Thursday night.

"We've been waiting for you for hours!" Jenny said and grabbed your arm dragging you further inside. You were staggered, "What the fuck, Jen, I'm not even late, I know I was yesterday but I'm perfectly on time today! Look," you pointed towards a clock on the wall "8 pm sharp."

"Jesus, don't you ever check your phone?" she went on ignoring you. And as a matter of fact, you didn't. You trashed it a couple of days ago as a result of a drunk rage after another shift without your favourite regular. That's why you've been borrowing your colleague’s phone to call yourself an Uber home. But that was still not helping you understand why you were needed so much. Apparently, the bar was waiting for your arrival since the opening at last. In the distance, behind the almost empty counter you saw the staff door opening and Kenny making his way to you in a quick pace.

"She's is here!" Jenny called out to him as if he wasn't able to see that for himself.

"Finally."

"What the fuck?" you asked again, trying to think of all the things you could've done wrong in the past weeks, but you couldn't find any. You never messed up a drink, you always locked the doors, you even cleaned the puke in the men's bathroom. "Am I in trouble?"

Kenny shook his head, you looked at him quizzically.

"It's about your boyfriend," Jenny helped him out answering. You almost blurted out 'He's not my boyfriend' as it was already on the tip of your tongue because you were so deeply conditioned to say that. But when your glance skipped over the almost empty seats by the counter again, your heart suddenly skipped a beat and when it was back at keeping you alive it started beating so hard against your ribs as if it was about to burst. Johnny was back.

"He's been here since we opened at 5," Kenny said, sounding a little annoyed "He's drunk off his ass, came in drunk already, and refuses to leave until he sees you. We tried to throw him out but he's one persistent motherfucker and lowkey aggressive, muttering your name saying he needs to talk to you and nobody else."

"Yeah, maybe you should go and talk to him" Jenny affirmed. But you were already on your way. Without a word you almost stormed over.

At first you wouldn't have noticed him. He didn't look like himself, sitting there on his regular seat at the end, head hanging, covered by his hands. He looked rough.

The two weeks he didn't show himself, you almost started hating him. You thought him to be like any other man on earth who, after they broke you, finally got you to get soft towards them, waking your interest after hundreds of times trying, just disappeared without a trace. First you were blaming yourself, asking yourself if you went too far with your little game of pretend, whilst still waiting every day for him.  Had it been too much for him saving you the other day and getting his face bashed in for you? You wished he'd come and tell you what a bitch he thought you were to your face. Then you despised him for giving you up so quickly. But as soon as you laid eyes on him all these negative thoughts disappeared, and you were just concerned. Concerned about his condition, only the question inside your head how on earth you, a simple barkeeper, were able to help him with that. You grabbed a bottle of whisky and simply headed to the other side of the counter, not standing in front but sitting next to him this time. The worst about it, he didn't even take notice of you at first.

"Johnny," you said softly placing a hand on his arm. Like being electrocuted by this touch, he winced but finally looked up. You almost gasped at his appearance. Normally he was always clean shaven, now he looked like hadn't shaved in days. Besides that, he was also hurt. At first you thought his injuries might still be from his encounter with the three men that were bothering you, but the scratches and bruises were fresh, and a band aid was sticking to his forehead that wasn't needed before. Johnny blankly stared at you from his bloodshot eyes and you suddenly felt the urge to hug him. But you resisted, first you had to get him to talk. Instead, you grabbed two of the glasses in front of Johnny uncorked the bottle of whisky and poured you one. You took a sip of the burning liquid hoping for some courage to miraculously appear as you watched Johnny silently drinking, too.

Kenny walked by on the way back to his office, judgingly eyeing you.

"Damn, I have to start taking all the booze you're drinking here from your paycheck, (Y/N), slow the fuck down, would you?" he said sighing with one foot already inside. Out of a sudden Johnny snapped.

"Jesus Kenny, don't wet your precious leather pants," he shouted out, slamming his glass on the counter "I'm gonna pay for it! Let a girl enjoy her drink for once" Some heads turned in your direction.

You held still for a second and didn't dare to breathe, afraid of another fight to happen since normally Kenny didn't allow anybody talk to him like that. But he simply shook his head and closed the door behind him, muttering something like "This girl actually has to work here, but whatever" leaving you alone with Johnny.

"You look hot, as always," he said trying to smile, yet the smile didn't reach his sad eyes. He almost looked like he's been crying.

"And you look like shit."

"You mean that?" he gestured at his face noticing your gaze upon his massive black eye. You nodded.

"That's nothing."

"What happened, Johnny?" you asked but he did not answer and just kept on sitting in silence, sipping his drink from time to time. Then, after what seemed like forever, he finally looked you straight in the eyes.

"I fucked up, (Y/N), that's what happened, I fucked up big time."

"Tell me!"

"As if you give two shits about it, you probably wouldn't care. You fucking despise me and my sorry ass."

"I do care!"

“Nah, you wouldn’t!”

You sprung off your seat, you did not expect that coming out of his mouth, also it hurt to hear him say that, because you really did care about him! You probably cared about him more than anything in your life at the moment. But if he was going to be a bitch to you so were you.

“Well, don’t waste my fucking time then!” you exclaimed “And stop annoying everyone that you need to see talk to me instead of fucking off. I can gladly leave you all by yourself so you can keep on pitying yourself. Nice seeing you, jerk!”

And you were about to storm off, go back to pretending to work just like you did every other day when there was nothing else to do, when you instantly heard a “(Y/N), wait!”

You turned around and saw Johnny, now more miserable than ever, showing at your seat inviting you to sit back down. You swallowed your pride and did so.

“I’m sorry,” he said “I just can’t believe that someone would actually give a shit about me at all. And I did want to talk to you, I still do. You’re the only one I want to see right now.” “Then tell me what’s going on.”

“There’s this kid,” he started sighed and stopped, then took another sip of his whisky and began again “I have a dojo in a strip mall, I’m a sensei,” “What’s that?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and you felt stupid. Johnny looked at you, completely staggered, forgetting his pain for a moment. Proving you that it was in fact a probably very stupid question.

“It’s a Karate place, I teach Karate there.”

“Go on.”

“I have a shit ton of nerds that I teach but they’re mostly good kids, they got bullied a lot before, but I helped them, I showed them how to kick ass, so no one dares to fuck with them anymore. There’s this one kid, Miguel, I’ve been teaching him since the beginning, he actually gave me the idea to open a dojo, he begged me to and he’s a great kid, he really grew on me. He lives next door with his mom and grandma, they’re great people, Mexicans. I even learned a bit of Spanish from them. And I’ve been hanging out a lot with him lately. I really, really liked him.”

He rubbed his eyes and stopped talking.

“What do you mean you liked him?” you asked carefully and studied Johnny’s face that he covered with his hands again.

“There’s more to the story. There’s another dojo in town, fucking Miyagi-Do. Of course, you can’t expect only one dojo to be there in L.A but how I wish that at least that one wouldn’t exist. The sensei is a twat. I fucking hate this guy. And his kids started fighting with my kids at school and not like throwing some punches at each other and leaving it be after somebody starts crying. No, they started a fucking Karate War at school. I mean, I get it, when I was their age I also took Karate way too seriously but letting it go this far? I don’t know, I can’t really understand that. It got out of hand real quick two weeks ago.”

“Fuck, did something bad happen?” you wondered and poured yourself and Johnny another whisky.

He nodded and stared into the distance. You waited for him to answer.

“There was a fight two weeks ago and apparently it got really bad. Miguel got kicked off a balcony at school, he fell two stories deep, spine-first onto a handrail.” You gasped. You school also had problems with fighting, a lot to be precise but as far as you knew, no one got kicked off from somewhere.

“He’s been in a coma now for two weeks and they say that the chances of waking up from a coma after two weeks are pretty miserable. He might as well be dead by now.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” you said although not knowing shit about coma, you just wanted t comfort Johnny. You could not stand seeing him so broken you even wished he would go back to his old nature again, hitting on you, joking and just having a good time “He’s probably going to wake up soon and go back to Karate again.”  

“You don’t know that!” Johnny said raising his voice, “He broke his fucking spine, (Y/N), even if he wakes up, he’s probably going to be crippled for his whole life.”

He took a deep breath and drank his whisky at once, grunting at the burning feeling in his throat.

“And now my own kid is in fucking juvie for kicking Miguel of a railing and he won’t even talk to me!”

“Wait, you have a kid?” you wondered and stared at Johnny wide-eyed, not knowing what else to say, this was surely a surprise for you. And Johnny went on with his rant.

“Yeah, Robby, he’s 17. But that doesn’t matter now, does it? He’s locked up, doesn’t want to hear a word from me, but that’s okay,” his voice was cynical, you could hear how much despised himself right in the moment and it was painful to see.

“I’ve been a shit father anyways, right? Every single day of his life I’ve been failing him. I wasn’t around much. I did nothing to keep him out of trouble. If so, I only made it worse, I only pushed him to train with Miyagi-Do and what happened to Miguel is all on me.” Despite calming himself down with a drink, Johnny’s voice got louder with every word he spoke. Again, heads were turning towards you, but you didn’t care.

“It’s not your fault what happened,” you said calmly and placed a hand on his shoulder, he was so tensed that you might as well have been touching a stone. And Johnny shook your hand of and let out a hateful laugh.

“Not my fault?” he shouted his lungs out “Who else’s fault is it then? Of course, it is mine. It is all on me, I fucked up. I fucked up both Robby’s and Miguel’s lives and on top of that mine’s not that great either. I spent the night in a fucking cell.”

“Calm down, Johnny,” you said softly and finally went in for a hug “It’s going to be okay; I promise!”

“No, it’s not!” he yelled as you wrapped your arms around him tightly pressing yourself against his trembling chest. At first, he let his arms sink and didn’t do anything, he kept on shouting, making even more heads turn towards all the noise, but then suddenly he buried his scrubby face into crook of your neck and sighed, finally placing his hands on your back, finally relaxing, firmly embracing you. You could’ve stayed like that for ever.

“C’mon, (Y/N), get him out of here!”, you suddenly heard Kenny who stood there, arms crossed, watching you, “He’s scaring off the people.”

You released Johnny from your hold who went back to staring down the counter whilst burying his face in his rough hands, just the way you have found him.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll bring him home.”

“Yeah, sure, feel free to come back to work whenever you’re ready, no rush. Or maybe you want to do home office instead?” said Kenny sarcastically and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon Kenny, I can’t let him go home like this alone, he’ll kill himself on the way. Besides, he’s probably the reason this place still hasn’t gone bankrupt. And I’m the reason he keeps coming, so maybe we owe him that?”

The big biker in front of you didn’t look too happy but he knew you were right, still, he wasn’t that easy to convince.

“Come on,” you said putting on your best puppy eyes, trying to look all cute because you knew the old man liked you deep inside “I’ll do double shift tomorrow, I promise. But just please let me go.”

Kenny stood motionless.

“Please?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll cover for you. But if you don’t come in early tomorrow…” “I know, I know, you’ll fire me” you finished his sentence and smiled at him.

Then you nudged Johnny who was not getting any of the conversation you just had and told him about your plan about getting him home. He stood up and he clearly wasn’t very strong on his feet. He was swaying from side to side on the way out.

“Okay, give me your keys, Johnny,” you said when you arrived at his black dodge. Normally you would have made fun of the yellow stripes and snakes all over, but you weren’t in the mood for it.

“I think I remember you telling me that you don’t have a license anymore and that you’re not willing to get involved into DUIs anymore.” And yet he submissively handed you over his car keys. You shrugged and got in the car, waiting for him to take the shotgun seat.

“I guess we all have to make exceptions sometimes. Now concentrate and lead me the way.”

“Thank you” Johnny said, his voice now all raspy and he suddenly looked tired “Now you are saving my ass.”

**************************************************************************************

PART 4

Already working on part 4 whether you like it or not, I’m too invested in that one

Sorry to all waiting for their requests to be written, I’ll soon be on it

Thanks for reading!

Taglist: @lililolli​ (you want to be on the taglist, too? drop me a message)

[inkedtae]

quiet rides ⇾ jjk. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ boyfriend!jungkook x reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒 ⇾ established relationship, smut, fluff

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ bored out of their minds on a seven hour road trip with their friends, Jungkook and his girlfriend decided to go on a ride themselves.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 3.3k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ trying to stay quiet sex, car sex, dom!jungkook, daddy kink, praise kink, slight degradation kink, slight fingering, choking, hair pulling, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex (wrap them up folks), cockwarming, edging, cum eating, creampie, slight overstimulation, exhibition kink, lowkey filth

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ gotta love some daddy!boyfriend jungkook. extremely unedited. if you have any requests, please send them my way. enjoy!

The humming engine and ripples of the wind faintly filled the silence within the SUV. You were bored out of your mind, looking between all your friends and wondering how the hell they were doing just fine for the past four hours. Namjoon was sitting just behind the driver’s seat where Jin was, enthralled with his writing as he scowled at his notebook and shifted in his seat way too much for your liking. Yoongi sat beside him with his earbuds in and music blasting so loud, you could hear it all the way in the back from your seat. Taehyung sat between them, editing photos on his phone while he too bopped his head along to the music in his earbuds. Jimin took the second row all to himself. He was previously sitting beside Taehyung, but had convinced him during your last reset spot to sit by Namjoon and Yoongi so that he could lay down. He always got a back case of car sickness on long trips like these. And Hoseok sat in the passenger’s seat, muttering directions to Jin and occasionally making cute sound effects. 

Everyone managed to keep themselves busy but you. Even your boyfriend of one year, who sat beside you in the last row of seats, was playing some stupid game on his phone, muttering curses under his breath every so often. You had tried to entertain yourself, gazing out the window to daydream, listening to some music, reading a book, but everything just seemed to lose it’s appeal all too quickly.

You sighed, leaning your head back against the car seat with a pout. Jungkook pretended he didn’t notice just to get under your skin.  He knew you adored his attention and would sometimes purposely deny you it just because he simply could. You huffed again, louder this time, and tried to catch his gaze in the corner of your eye. 

Jungkook exited his game and locked his phone before looking at you. He mimicked your pout and annoyed eyes, silently giggling to himself. You bit your lip to keep from laughing, wanting him to know you were seriously bored and done with the stupid car ride. 

“Just three more hours,” he reassured. He knew you were getting restless, wanting to just be there already and lounging on the beach with him by your side. “Try to relax, hun,” he offered a gentle smile, curling a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

You exhaled deeply and nodded. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to relax with the awkward blend of Taehyung and Yoongi’s faint music, Namjoon’s constant shifts and Hoseok’s sound effects. You were going to ask him what he would suggest you do, however you somehow got lost in his soft gaze. It wasn’t the first time this happened, but you still weren’t used to the feeling. An idea trickling into your mind, making you blush under his gaze. 

He furrowed his brows at you, wondering why you were going red all of a sudden. Before he could ask, you relocated your hand from your lap to his crotch, cupping his soft cock as it began to get hard under your touch.

A gasp got caught in his throat from the sudden action. He looked down at it confused, but didn’t make an effort to remove your hand or tell you to stop. “Was this morning not enough?” He whispered, looking back up at you. 

You smiled sweetly, then licked your lips before replying, “Kookie, don’t you know by now?  I can never get enough of you.” Your voice was dripping with sugar. The sweet innocence you radiated made him bite his lip as he swallowed hard, bobbing his adam’s apple. You began to palm him through his jeans, only just making him shiver against your touch.

“Think you’re being cute?” 

“I know I am.”

Wrong answer. His hand shot up to wrap tightly around your throat. Your eyes widened, darting around the car to see if anyone had noticed. They were too consumed with whatever the hell they were doing to care about you two back there. 

“Wanna try that again, babe,” he hissed, somehow still sounding kind through his rough tone. 

You remained silent, knowing better than to talk back to him right now. Your hand on his crotch ceased all movements, simply resting there and feeling him grow harder in your palm. He seemed satisfied with your silence, loosening his grip on your throat and pulling you in for a gentle peck upon your lips. 

He completely let go of your throat as he sat back in his seat. “Good girl,” he hummed. His hands then moved to unbuckle his belt. “If you’re so desperate for something to do,” he started, shifting his pants low enough to pull out his cock. “I can always provide you with suggestions.”

Your mouth watered at the sight of his big cock. Hard and slightly curved, it stood tall. You glanced around again, making sure no one caught you leaning down to take that cock deep in your mouth. Usually, you wouldn’t be so bold. You lick up and down his girthy shaft first, swirl your tongue around his tip, suck up all the precum he would provide, then begin to take him inch by throbbing inch. But, with how you pissed him off earlier, you wanted to show him how much you regret your actions. 

You coated half his cock instantly with your saliva. He inhaled sharply, enjoying the quiet, wet noises of your slobbers and slurps. His hands pulled your hair back into a makeshift ponytail and he used that grip to guide your head up and down his cock. He smirked at the sight of you so willingly going down on him while all his friends were around. He admired your efforts, gazing at your eager eyes as you enjoyed yourself. 

You pulled up suddenly, confusing him. You didn’t really register that he was about to tell you off for it, eyes trained on that wet cock as you repositioned yourself to be sitting on your knees atop the cushioned seats of the car. Once you were comfortable, you returned your mouth around his cock, moaning at the salty taste of his precum. 

Jungkook rested his head back against the headrest at the returned contact, eyes fluttering closed in a state of pleasure. Though he was loving the feeling of your mouth and wanted desperately to get lost in it, he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes for too long. He looked back down at you a second later, knowing it would’ve been a shame to miss seeing his babygirl at work. 

You pulled back from your head bobs until your lips were pressed against his tip. You continued to pump his cock with both your small hands. His cock still hadn’t been fully taken inside your mouth yet. You were working your way to it. For now, however, you felt like he needed to be a bit wetter. You collected the precum you had in your mouth with some saliva and spat it over his cock. 

He let out a shaky sigh at the sight. One of his hands remained on your head, holding your hair while you went back to your previous rhythm of sucks and swirls of your tongue, while his other hand slid down your back and to your ass, rubbing your just barely covered asscheeks. Since being in your new position, you flowy skirt had crept up to your hips, revealing a bit of your bare ass. You had been wearing panties this morning, but Jungkook took them after fucking you against his luggage for talking back. They now sat in one of his pockets, staining his jeans with the scent of you.

You felt yourself getting wet at the memory, pressing your thighs together as you took him a bit deeper. You were about to moan when Jungkook suddenly pushed your head all the way down his cock, bottoming out in your throat and making you gagging uncontrollably. His hand fixed your skirt, covering your ass once more and he coughed to cover up your lewd sounds. 

“You okay?” Jin asked, glancing at Jungkook from the rearview mirror.  

Your eyes watered as you held your breath to subside all your gags. Jungkook ceased his fake coughs and nodded, “just fine. 

Hoseok turned back to check on him, causing Taehyung to do the same. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

“Sleeping,” Jungkook immediately answered. His hips involuntarily buckled into your mouth and you gripped onto the hem of his shirt to remain steady and still. 

Hoseok nodded and turned around. Taehyung glanced at Jimin’s sleeping figure, making sure he was okay too before turning back around as well. 

Jungkook released his grip on you, and you rose up enough to look up at him but not enough for them to see you in the mirror should they glance back. Tears were streaming down your face and your mouth was glistening with your saliva and remnants of his precum. 

He offered you a sheepish smile, soothing your ruined hair down. “I’m sorry, babygirl,” he mumbled. “I didn’t realize he was staring at me until I glanced at the mirror.”

You licked your lips, in an attempt to clean the mess around them, and nodded. You couldn’t really blame him. Besides, you were panting all too much to reply to him anyways. He nudged on your shoulder to signal you to sit up and wiped whatever drool was left on your face with the back of his hand. “Come sit on daddy’s cock, princess,” he cooed. 

You nervously looked back to the front of the car. “I thought you told them I was sleeping,” you replied. It’s not that you didn’t want to sit on his cock; that was all you wanted. But the last thing you needed was any of the guys getting a good view of your fucked out face and features. That right was only reserved for Jungkook as his beautiful sex faces belong to you as well. 

Jungkook was already helping you climb over his lap as he reassured, “just lean back and shut your eyes, baby. They won’t know the difference.”

He lifted your skirt enough for you to spread your legs a bit and sink down on his cock. You hurried the action, biting down on your lip to keep from screaming at the amazing burn of the stretch. Your ass finally met his hips and you did as he told you, leaning your back against him and fluttering your eyes closed. 

“Try not to look like you have a cock in you, babygirl,” he chuckled against your jawline, admiring your parted lips and knitted brows. 

You wanted to follow orders but his cock just felt so fucking good, throbbing against your cunt walls. You rolled your hips a bit, gasping at the subtle friction, but Jungkook was quick to end it all, holding your hips still with an unforgiving grip. You were sure you’d see bruises surface in their wake later. 

Jungkook tsked against your skin, “what did we say about behaving, hunny?” 

You shuddered against him. Your eyes slowly opened and you turned to look down at him with a pouty. “Sorry,” you whispered. 

He breathed a chuckle, waving your misbehaviour away just from the mere sight of you looking so helplessly cute. “Just stay still.”

“We’ll be there in about an hour,” Hoseok announced in reply to Jimin’s question. 

All the guys were engaging in lively conversations, abandoning their previous tasks and singing along to their upbeat playlist. Only you and Jungkook remained silent, his arms wrapped around your waist. He was forced to do this as you kept shifting about. With his strong hands holding you down, it was impossible for you to move. His occasionally twitching cock was the only friction you were allotted.

You rested your head against the headrest in front of you and cried desperate tears of frustration. You were ready to scream “fuck it,” and start bouncing on his cock, simply wanting to feel something. Jungkook kissed your back, muttering words of encouragement in hopes to calm you down. You knew he was ready to throw all caution out the car window too and ram his hips up into you, that this edging wasn’t one sided. But, you still couldn’t stop your silent tears.

“You’re doing so well, babygirl.” Jungkook whispered, leaning over you to have his lips meet your ear. His cock reached deep inside you, forcing a sob out as they guys belted the chorus of the song. Their voices masked your slip up.  

He kissed your cheek, tasting your tears no doubt. “Look, at you taking daddy’s cock like the good girl you are, huh? You’ve been behaving so well. Such a good little girl. I’m going to reward you later for that baby.”

You raveled in his praises, whimpering meekly as you tried to calm yourself down. You knew it was a useless task, his cock always and forever being your weakness, but if you didn’t at least try you were going to scream. 

“Can you take the next exit?” Yoongi asked, as the song ended. 

Jin sighed, quirking his head to the left a bit. “Can’t you hold it? We’re almost there,” he replied, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

“I can’t and won’t,” he stubbornly answered over the next tune that played. 

Jin compiled without another word, signalling to move into the next lane towards the exit. He must’ve known he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he didn’t. 

You couldn’t believe it. This stop was going to tack on an extra twenty minutes to the trip. That was twenty more minutes you'll remain on his cock, twenty more mintues of blissful torture. A loud whine you couldn’t at all help escaped you. 

The guys turned to look back at you with concern washing over them. Hoseok turned down the volume as they all asked a series of “you alright?”

You nodded, unable to answer conhertantly. Namjoon was the first of them to notice your tears. “Are you hurt?” he asked, looking between you and Jungkook.

Jimin, being the closest to you, began to rub your head out of concern. Jungkook huffed a quiet growl in your ear, causing shivers to run up and down your spine, and caught Jimin’s wrist. The harsh action shocked everyone in the car into confused silence. Jimin stared at Jungkook, expectedly waiting for an explanation. 

“She has a headache,” he muttered. “It’s best not to touch there. It’ll only make it worse.” His voice sounded surprisingly steady and believable. He then released Jimin’s hand and returned his arm back to his hold around your waist.

They all nodded, and promised to keep it down. You stayed settled on Jungkook’s cock, quietly whining and crying into the headrest in front of you. 

The car pulled into the parking lot. Jin and Hoseok jumped out to get some food, while Yoongi and Jimin left to use the washroom. Namjoon stayed behind with Taehyung, discussing the things they wanted to do once they got there. 

“Hyung, do you mind going to grab us some water?” Jungkook asked. 

Namjoon and Taehyung looked at each other, trying to figure out which one of them Jungkook was referring to. Namjoon was the closest to the door so he nodded and said he’d be right back. After a minute or two, Jungkook conveniently sighed out in feigned annoyance. 

Taehyung turned back, raising a brow as a means of asking what was wrong.

“I forgot to tell him to grab (Y/N) some aspirin for her headache,” he smoothly lied, breath suddenly catching in his throat. He cleared it and asked, “do you mind going to get it?”

Taehyung spared you one last pitiful glance and nodded. “Do you guys want anything to eat too?” 

You shook your head quickly, finally catching onto Jungkook’s drift and just wanting Taehyung to leave already. 

“Just grab us whatever Jin gets for himself,” he replied. 

Taehyung nodded and jumped out of the car. Jungkook waited for him to be far enough before removing his arm from your waist and replacing them with his rough fingers. “Jump,” he growled. 

You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately bouncing up and down rapidly on his cock. You were thankful you had his hands guiding you up and down his shaft because you were growing weaker with every thrust. Tears continued to fall freely down your face at finally being able to ravel at the feeling of his cock rubbing against your tight walls and slamming against the one right spot. Your orgasm was already on the edge those last few thrusts triggering it in full effect.

“D-daddy, I’m gon-” you started screaming your warning but he cut you off. 

“Just fucking do it!” he groaned, clenching his jaw. 

You came all over him, quivering, crying, screaming his name as the car shook from your desperate movements to ride out your high. Jungkook’s orgasm was right behind yours, strong body stiffening while unleashing his full load deep in you as you continued to bounce on him. 

When you couldn’t take anymore, you fell back limp on his chest. He jerked his hips up into you a couple of more times, swirling his cum with yours before resting back too. His lips showered your neck with kisses. “I’m so proud of you, babygirl,” he chuckled. “You really took daddy’s cock for a ride.”

You blushed, breathy giggles escaping you as you tried to catch your breath. “I can’t help it,” you replied in a whine. 

He laughed and kissed your cheek. As he wiped your tears away, his cock began to soften inside you. You shifted uncomfortable, suddenly starting to feel overstimulated. Jungkook couldn’t put you through anymore teasing after that two hour long edge you were both battling against. He helped you up and off his cock, cupping your pussy from leaking all over the rental. 

“Shit, we didn’t think this through,” Jungkook chuckled, catching gallops of your mixed cum in his hand. 

You sighed, wondering what the fuck to do now. It was only a matter of time before they returned. You did the only thing you could think of, hovering your hand under his. “Eat up, daddy,” you blushed. 

His cheeks tinted a light pink too. He brought his cum coated fingers to his mouth, groaning. You caught some cum as well, mimicking his actions. You held his gaze all throughout your filthy meal together. Jungkook pushed his fingers in you, collecting more cum to eat. You hissed at the contact, not yet recovered from his last encounter down there. He ate what was left of your cum off his hands as you fixed your skirt. 

“The moment we get to the beach, I’m gonna clean you up properly,” he promised, sucking his fingers clean. 

You nodded and with a little shrug replied, “I think I’ll be ready for another ride by then.”

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission. 

[missinghan]

broken umbrella ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 1,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : a typical day in your life starts with having candies poured over your head and ends with breaking han jisung’s umbrella. 

❖ note : I wanted to write smth dumb okay-

one.

Jisung gives his desk a harsh kick, one that does no good in releasing his inner storm, only to wince in pain later because he’s an idiot. 

Classes have been somewhat less than boring these days, partially because his mind is occupied with thoughts of you half of the time and partially because…well, more thoughts of you. Oh wait, today is a little different than usual considering the fact that you did not give him a proper response. 

To what?

Putting it simply, he woke up early this morning to go over his routine more thoroughly—styling his hair, making sure that his tie isn’t sloppy-looking, and spraying himself with his brother’s cologne. He doesn’t usually care for any one of those things until junior starts and you show up. Call him desperate, or delusional, or childish even but it truly felt like fate when you two first encountered each other. 

“Yeah right, fate,” Hyunjin snickers loudly, swirling a strawberry-flavored lollipop inside his mouth. “You meant when you fell on your ass on the bus the other day and you accidentally grabbed her collar?”

Jisung feels his cheeks heat up thanks to his friend’s less than necessary comment. “Shut the fuck up, you’re just jealous.” It was great. Not only did he fall head over heels for you, but he also left a bad impression. 

Back to the point. All of his hard work this morning is reduced to nothing because of the rain. His hair is messed up, his uniform looks sloppy, and his shoes are covered in mud from skipping through puddles. Not to mention, he showed up timely enough to be there when you opened your locker, having various candies and sweets poured down your head, scattered all over the hallway. 

Yeji should have told him you didn’t like sweet things yesterday, damn it. Because he’s never seen you giving him that look before. The look that makes him believe you will make him experience torment and pain, begging for the mercy that never comes—make his life a living hell basically. 

“How did your plan go, by the way?” His friend asks out of boredom. 

“Fantastic,” he replies under his breath when everything is, in fact, not fantastic. 

Hyunjin tilts his head. “Did she know?”

“Know what? That I’m in love with her? I mean I wasn’t trying to be subtle or anything-“

“No, did she know that it was gonna rain today?”

Shrugging, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in exhaustion; forty-five minutes periods should be illegal. “Why does that matter?”

“Hey, Han!” 

Jisung turns his head to the voice and sees Felix sliding the door to his classroom open, uneven breaths as if he’s been running for his life while holding two umbrellas in his arms. He glances at his friend’s state with a grimace, head cocked to the side in confusion. Luckily, no one really spends recess in class except for loners like himself anyway. “What are you doing?” 

“Y/N didn’t bring an umbrella!” The freckled boy exclaims with excitement, only able to coax an amused hum from Hyunjin. “But you have an umbrella, and it’s still raining! Which means…?”

A comical silence falls upon the three of them. It takes Jisung approximately five taps of Hyunjin’s finger on the table to fully process his friend’s point. Realization lights up in his eyes like a candle but dies down with a pout on his face. “But she can just go with her friends?” he says with expressive hands, though a little disappointed. 

“I’m not gonna half-ass it if I plan on helping you,” Felix gives the two umbrellas, a white one and a pink one, in his hands a slight jerk, looking oddly proud. 

This time, Jisung catches on immediately; his eyes go wide in shock as though his friend has committed the greatest sin. “Yeji and Lia are so gonna kill you.”

two.

“Did you bring an umbrella?” Lia asks while hopeless rummaging through her stuff. “I swear with my own eyes I saw myself putting one in my bag this morning.”

Yeji shakes her head in defeat, tugging at the straps of her backpack. “I was pretty sure I brought one too. I even used it to walk to the bus stop this morning! Someone must have taken it during recess,” she sighs, dreading the pouring rain and grey clouds. 

It’s raining again. It’s only been raining today, the weather forecast did predict that it’s most likely going to last for a whole week too (not that you bothered checking). You don’t mind the rain, though. You like the fact that they make the world appear mistier, hazier like a fever dream. 

What isn’t good about the rain is the fact that your parents won’t be too happy to see you come home looking like a wet rat. Or the fact that you’ll probably get a really bad cold, and that won’t be pretty during midterms week. Or the fact that most students are absolute idiots and didn’t bring their own umbrellas either. Everyone is shoving each other for space under the canopy at the main gate so the rain won’t soak their clothes. 

You’re not having it. At all. 

“Yeji, Lia. I’m going home,” you purse your lips together and take a breath. 

Lia frowns at your particular solution. “Already? But you’re gonna get wet.”

“My house is a ten-minute walk away. Shouldn’t be too bad,” you say lowly in faint annoyance, eyes squinted from the discomfort of lack of space; these students have no manners whatsoever, you’re getting claustrophobic. 

With a determined huff, you pull the zipper of your jacket up and throw the hood over your hair. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Shadow suddenly looms over the top of your head, warmth radiates to your clothed arm. In the corner of your eyes, a familiar face comes into view and forces a heavy exhale from your lips. 

“Hey, do you wanna go with-“ Jisung pauses midway when you take off running, shattering his fantasy of living in a drama into bits without mercy. “Y/N! Wait up!”

three.

“Come here! Or you’ll get sick!”

“Why the hell do you care?”

“Y/N, stop being so stubborn! You’re gonna catch a cold!”

“It’s none of your business.”

After walking down several blocks down the road, past nothing but empty plazas and mostly closed café, you even take an extra U-turn, going through a skeptical alley just so Jisung will get tired and stop following you. Your effort doesn’t not prevail so you give up eventually, deciding to take the proper turn to head home before it’s too late to prepare dinner. 

The poor boy can feel the rain drizzle down his black umbrella before falling onto his windbreaker, soaking through the fabric to stain his senses with a chilling sensation. He has already calmed every racing thought that ceases to ease his erratic heartbeat but no matter how hard he tries, there isn’t one second where he isn’t thinking about your well-being.

“Hey,” he calls out; when you turn around, he’s closing his umbrella and tossing it to the ground, leaving it to graze the tip of your shoes. “Take it and go home. I won’t bother you anymore.”

You roll your eyes before picking it up, mercilessly letting it flop right in front of him. “I don’t need it.”

Jisung clicks his tongue in irritation, not caring that droplets are falling from his head and his skin is crawling from the cold. Somehow, he’s starting to become baffled for no reason. Perhaps it’s because of your nonchalance about the current situation; you shouldn’t be so apathetic when he’s genuinely worried sick for your health.

His eyes are heavy with rain droplets so he blinks them away before glaring at you slightly. “You need it more than I do. Would you please stop acting irrationally, take the umbrella and head home? The rain isn’t stopping anytime soon.” His leg jerks up to kick at the innocent object; still isn’t enough to relish the turmoil hurling his innards.

He brushes past you, shoving your shoulder a little while expecting you to finally accept his offer. To his dismay, you once again grab at the poor, poor umbrella, and throw it at his leg with more force this time. When it drops to the ground with a small thud, his heart pauses awkwardly in disappointment. 

The sun is going down by the second but you can still see the faint outline of his scowl. “Go home, Jisung. It’s getting late,” you remark coldly, stuffing your freezing hands into your pocket. 

With a loud groan, he marches back to where you two were originally standing, a curse word lingers on the tip of his tongue. But he manages to swallow it back down before gently tugging at the sleeve of your jacket. “Take the umbrella at least,” he voices softly, the crack more evident than anything at the end. “Look, I know I’ve been nothing but a nuisance since we first met. I just really like you and I care for you okay? Go home, Y/N.”

“Please.”

You look at him after moments, your once hateful eyes finally glinting with something else other than general distaste and annoyance. It only takes one glance of his tired eyes to pierce through your phlegmatic front, leaving your raw emotions out in the open. Before Jisung can say another word or take notice of the rare warmth creeping in your gaze, you take his hand in yours and pull him toward a nearby apartment complex to not wait out in the downpour any longer. By the time that you’ve released the grip, he’s still staring into the nothingness, eyes slightly wide in shock.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you gonna go home?” he blurts out finally after snapping out of it.

“This is my apartment complex. But I must have dropped my card somewhere. So I can’t go inside.”

A sigh. “Is anyone home right now?”

“My phone is dead.”

Jisung perks up and his hand fishes inside his pocket. “You can use-”

You inhale deeply, looking away. “Enough is enough, Jisung. Go home.”

“You broke my umbrella,” he mentions, blinking rapidly to bat the droplets away from his eyelashes. “I can’t go home like this.”

Few beats of silence later, a middle-aged woman dressed in a beige trench coat walks past the both of you, two high school students pathetically standing under the canopy like wet rats; she swipes her card against the security lock and the glass door pops open without much effort. Sparing you the last look, she’s probably thinking ‘kids these days’ before heading inside with a roll of her eyes. 

Jisung hurriedly skips over to hold the door open for you, motions for you to walk in with his head. To his surprise, you comply but bring your steps to a halt to situate yourself in front of him. His lashes are wet and heavy; that’s when you realize how soaked you both are and how terribly cold the temperature it’s getting. Your hand reaches out to brush the raindrops away softly, shaking his heart to the core. 

The silence is graceful in the wake of the moment, the rain in the background just makes everything that much more cinematic. However, Jisung isn’t in the right mind state to fanboy over the fact that his drama fantasy is one step closer to reality. He wishes to cling to this moment forever because he just can’t get enough. He can never.

“I’ll get you a towel,” you pull away calmly, thinking how cute he sort of looks when his cheeks are three shades redder. “And a new umbrella.” 

His smile has never been brighter, you notice. Even when he’s out in the brutal cold and completely drenched from head to toe. And wait...have his eyes always been so pretty?

[mschillinvillin]

Kagome yelling at sesshomaru and he gets lowkey scared/horny

*I’m sorry that this took me forever. I hope it’s sort of what you had in mind, oh Anonymous prompt giver.*

Title: Bad Entertainment

Pairing: Sess/Kag

Rated: T for language

 Fucking with Inuyasha was the only thing that really got him going. It had always been a pathetic way of finding entertainment, cheap, like booting Jaken, but things had recently taken a more interesting turn.

 “Sesshoumaru!” The young woman didn’t bother with honorifics, a lack of respect that should have meant her death, but he turned to her, careful not to look too interested. Inuyasha was limp in his grasp, bleeding just enough to make a show of things. He wanted to piss off the wench.

 An arrow flew past his ear, singing with sharp power that stirred the air beside him. He dropped his quarry, aware of the way his brother struggled to sit up after a particularly forceful blow to the gut. He allowed her to draw another arrow, watched her power pool at its tip, then quickly crowded her. She didn’t let it fly; the bitch was more bark than bite, and a little nip would hardly wound him anyhow. Once he was too close to fall victim to her ranged weapon, he leaned in, watching panic flutter across her face before she stomped it down and let indignation replace it.

 Hnn, good.

 He leaned in just enough to bathe himself in her scent – human, sweat, blood from scraped knees, but also a perplexing chemical mix with sweet currents that reminded him of his own poison. He waited for her to react, heard the harsh intake of breath that meant she was about to start yelling in his ear, then vanished.

 He watched from above when she gasped, twirled, craned her neck trying to look behind her, and then dropped her weapon all at once – he’d show her what a mistake that was next time – and fell to his brother’s side, fussing over him.

 Annoying.

 But still good entertainment.

*

 Riling up Inuyasha was a good way to rile up the woman, but with the addition of more mortals to their little group, he found her ire harder to focus on. She took more of a backseat role, allowing them to do the work while she lobbied arrows from a safe distance. She grit her teeth while she did it, barely saying anything at all.

 Surely he could get more out of her than that.

 He brushed off the desire to simply grab her and run. Being saddled with Inuyasha’s woman was not in his plans. He wanted a quick brush with tingling power and a little sass to rile him up, and then he’d be gone.

 The group seemed to protect her the most, and he retreated after a measly punch to Inuyasha’s face, anger making him put a little more force than was necessary.

 “Inuyasha!” He didn’t need to turn to know she’d run towards the half breed. Irritation mounted. He left before he could do something he’d regret.

 It was time for a change in tactics.

 *

 The group moved slowly with a lot of noise, and Sesshoumaru followed at a sedate pace. Every so often, he’d let tendrils of his youki escape, trailing them over her specifically, and suppressing a chuckle when she’d whip back to glare down the path. The harder he pressed, the more her power bucked, trying to throw him off.

 Finally, she spun towards him. Her friends took a moment to notice that she’d frozen, their chatter dying off as they reached for their weapons.

 “Is it a shard?”

 Inuyasha bounded in front of her, inhaling deeply through his open mouth and impeding Sesshoumaru’s view of her. Taking care to be silent now that they were all on high alert, he skirted the edges of the woods around them and took up position once again behind her.

 She spun and Inuyasha herded her back again, ears swiveling as he tried to pick out what was setting her off.

 “Is it a shard?” The monk asked.

 “I just have this weird feeling,” she shuddered. “It’s not… unpleasant, but it’s strange. It feels like something is messing with me.”

 His good mood soured. Messing with a human was beneath him. It wasn’t until he was halfway back to his ward that it sank in. That was exactly what he’d been doing.

 Still, it pleased him that she didn’t find his aura unpleasant.

*

It was weeks until he saw them again, despite moving parallel to their group. If he truly focused, he could understand what they were saying.

 “I just can’t believe he kissed me!” Kagome was crying to the demon slayer. She sounded mortified.

 “Was it at least a nice kiss?”

 “I don’t know! It was Hojo! He’s a nice guy but he’s so boring. And then I slapped him!”

 “I always slap men when they get too handsy.”

 “But Miroku is a lot tougher than Hojo, and now everyone is mad at me, or they’re calling me crazy. It was so embarrassing! And it made me so mad!”

 Sesshoumaru tucked away that bit of information like a crow with a treasure. It hadn’t occurred to him that embarrassment could cause such a reaction. He did not wish to manhandle the miko as the monk did the demon slayer and discarded the notion, but the thought of an open palm and soft lips haunted his dreams, so that when the sun began to peek out over the grassy hill his group was hiding in, he felt himself forced to take action.

 They slept in a loose circle. His eyes remained trained on the miko when he stepped into the threshold of their temporary domain. She was curled up beneath a shiny yellow blanket, her loose hair spilling like ink across her pillow.

 “What do you want?” Inuyasha’s loud voice roused the group.

 The object of his obsession yawned, and he caught how pink her lips were, flushed, like she’d been biting them in her sleep. She didn’t seem to notice what was going on around her, groaning deeply as she raised her arms and stretched back, her unbound chest jutting out provocatively beneath a thin layer of strange fabric.

 She rubbed her eyes then whined. “Inuyasha? Is everything OK?”

 “Just stay back Kagome!”

 That made her alert. She moved to her knees, reaching for her bow, but he was already there, looming over her while his brother scrambled and shouted behind him. He had an impressive view down the subtle V of her neckline, but of course he wasn’t interested in looking there.

 “Sesshoumaru?” She squeaked, suddenly alert. He let his youki run over her once more, watching when her eyes widened in sudden understanding. If he went to all this trouble and she reacted like anyone else would, he’d be horribly disappointed, so he leaned down and huffed into the curved shell of her ear.

 “Pay attention, miko.”

 “Wh-?”

 Her exclamation was cut off by the forceful surge of his lips on hers. His tongue slid past her open lips, tracing the hard ridge of teeth while she let out a muffled noise. The heat was not unpleasant. He hummed and leaned forward, recognizing a sudden rush of interest in her scent, the fleeting smell of attraction, desire-

 A stinging slap broke the spell. Purity rushed forth in her sudden fury. It was everything he’d wanted.

 Tears gathered along her waterline.

 “What is wrong with you men?” She snapped, springing towards the demon slayer and burying her face in the other woman’s shoulder. Everyone was gaping at him.  He righted himself stiffly and wandered back the way he had come, contemplating kisses and why the fact that they worked didn’t make them the right choice.

 *

 He couldn’t wait even a week before he returned to her.

 There was a shift in the way Inuyasha’s group reacted to him. Inuyasha still shouted, but instead of springing forward, he stayed close to the miko. Likewise, they’d stopped leaving her to the rear and now formed a tight circle around her. She eyed him warily, but her weapon was slack in her hands.

 Two options presented themselves.

 He could say what he needed to say here, in front of her companions, or….

 He’d whisked her away in the breadth of a few seconds, taking her skyward so quickly that all he heard was a gasp and Inuyasha’s oath trailing behind them. The wind stole her shrieks, and he tried not to enjoy how her power surged against him in rebuttal to the manhandling washing him in a satisfying tingle, even as she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her nose against the skin beneath his ear.

 He slowly came to a stop and waited for her trembling to cease, letting his arm fall so she would know he had no intention of restraining her. She gasped and pushed off him, not realizing that her fingers were tangled in his hair and pulling his face with her.

 She was red. Stuttering. Her eyes narrowed and he waited with bated breath for the inevitable flood of power that would accompany her rage.

 “Seriously? What’s wrong with you?” She screeched. Inwardly, he preened. Power flared around him. He wasn’t one to feel fear, and he definitely wouldn’t let her know that it made his heartbeat rush.

 “Most would not assume to be so forward with this Sesshoumaru.”

 “The Sesshoumaru I know wouldn’t behave like this!”

 “You do not know me.”

 “I know enough.”

 He caught the hand that was waving about, and pressed his thumb soothingly into her palm, rumbling when her cheeks heated and he caught her eyes darting to his lips. If he was any weaker, he would run at the blush that brought forth a new wave of power. She was dangerous to him. Adrenaline pumped. He felt like a pup at the site of his first skirmish.

 He inhaled deeply, noting her scent. She had liked the kiss, even if his method of stealing it had been wrong. Good.

 “Hn, I would like you to know more.” His breath brushed across her forehead, fluttering her bangs. Slowly, so that she could knock his hand away if she wished to, he raised his hand to her face and cupped her cheek. She licked her lips. It was a small, subconscious gesture, but he approved.

 “Oh?”

 “If you have no complaints.”

 “I have several.” She said it with a small frown, but still tugged on his hair and tipped her head, angling it for a kiss.

 “Hn, good.” He complied.

[bonny-kookoo]

Chivalry is dead (JJK x Reader) 💜(☁️)🔞

🖤 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

🖤 Genre: CEO x Secretary AU, Fluff/Romance, Coworkers to lovers?, mild angst, Smut

🖤 Warnings: swearing, mentions of surgery, did I mention swearing, Kookster is whipped, it’s kinda cheesy, please someone get me a Jungkook like that, slow sex, gentle lovemaking, it’s nothing freaky this time, oral (f rec.) protected sex, sugary sweet live confession you might get diabetes

🖤 Summary: Jeon Jungkook was your boss. The roles were clear as day, so why did it seem so complicated?

You had no idea who in the hell actually invented coffee- like who thought roasting some weird beans and spilling hot water over that stuff was a good idea? Well, whoever it was, that person could go fuck themselves royally; because first of all, that stuff tasted bitter as hell, and second of all, it made your early morning shift an absolute nightmare.

Maybe it wasn't the coffee, but the person who loved them- Jeon Jungkook. Self-proclaimed savior of his Dad's company after taking over at the mere age of 22. Now, at 25, he was a well known face in his business, with famous magazines naming him 'one to watch out for' when talking about deals and sudden decisions. He's headstrong, smart, and unbelievably good looking too.

And also an asshole.

Thats at least what your flatmate Jenny usually says whenever he's the main course of your conversations. You'd told her time and time again that he was merely this rough with you because he was stressed- yet she simply stated that you were just an angel too good for this world- and especially too good for him.

"2 Minutes late." Came his rough voice as he didn't even look up to greet you, simply tapping on the surface of his crisp white table where he expected you to put his coffee. (Black and bitter as his soul, as Jenny always said.) He nodded, hand raising to dismiss you as always, until his eyes turned downwards, spotting your scaped up knee; half-hazardly covered by a bandaid that already came off at one side due to the rush you'd been in. Sure, you could apologize now, tell him how you were late because that freaking dogwalker let a leash of one of his huskies slip, which basically ran you over like a truck considering your rather short height, but you'd found out early on that Jeon Jungkook didn't care about your stories. Yet with his still lingering stare, you felt like he'd glued you to the ground by the soles of your shoes, without his dismissal you were forced to stay right where you were. He took a sip of his black beverage before setting the cup down with a sigh, getting up to walk towards a small bathroom connected to his office. Emerging out of the room again with a couple of items in his hand, he sat down on his chair behind his laptop, turning it towards you.

He had to lean down a bit as he took off the bandaid, not even saying sorry as you hissed at the sting. You did notice however how he took it off more gently after that, as he threw it into his bin, opening the plastic bag of desinfectant wipes, before his large hand held the back of your knee, almost delicately. He began to clean the scrape, brows furrowing a bit at the view of the raw skin, thinking about how you probably ran with that all the way to his office just to not be even later. He wanted to apologize, at least give you some form of verbal reassurance that it was okay to put your own health before his goddamn coffee, but the words got stuck inside his throat as he gently placed a new, more properly sized bandaid over the wound, sighing as some red seeped through immediately. "Get that checked after work today." He simply said before getting up to put all of the items away into their proper place as you were left with still tingling skin from his touch. He turned around, looking at you with an almost bored, but soft look. "What're you standing there for? You're dismissed." He said, and you practically ran out of the office.

"He wants to fuck you." Jenny simply said as she bit into her sandwich, while you were left almost spitting out your lunch. "What? That was electricity, I'm telling you! He so wants to screw you." She said, almost accusingly pointing a finger at you as she took a sip of her water, watching you.

"Stop. He only did that because he.." Oh well yeah, why did he do that? He could've simply told you to get it checked instead of taking care of it himself for that matter. But he was someone who wanted things done immediately- e rarely could wait for things to finish or to be done, so maybe he just wanted to have things more proper during your shift? Exactly. He just wanted to keep the image of his company intact- maybe even raise it by showing other employees that he cared for everyone deeply, even if he didn't. "He probably just wanted me not to look like I got scraped off the streets." You mumbled before taking a bite of your lunch, Jennies eyes rolling.

"Truth is;" She started, as she threw away her plastic waste before checking her watch, "That I still think he wants you bend over his desk." She finished, as you turned shades of pink, lowering your gaze at that. You always tried to keep those thoughts away from you, knowing how unprofessional it was. "Does he know you're leaving soon?" She asked, now a bit softer since she knew it was a touchy topic. You shook your head.

"I haven't put in my termination yet." You answered, your food suddenly looking stale. Jenny sighed, hugging your side.

"I'll buy some icecream on the way home, you're finishing later than I do I assume?" She asked, and you nodded again as a confirmation. "Alright. Let's binge on movies tonight, and have a nice weekend alright? Heads up." Came her reply as she left with a wave, to get back to her own desk in the company.

Jenny and you had met while you were waiting for your interview with Jeon to begin, and when you began to talk, you immediately hit off. You'd told her how much the driving back and forth from your old apartment to work would be, and eventually she'd decided to share her apartment with you close to the company. You were a bit hesitant at first, but eventually agreed; and it was one of your best decisions yet. The way to work was basically half an hour by foot- if it wasn't for your daily task of bringing your boss a coffee from this one specific shop downtown, almost an hour away by foot. It was okay however. Everyone had their preference.

At least you told yourself that to feel better about being Jeon Jungkooks personal slave.

"You're in love with her." Jimin stated, as Jungkook almost choked on his instant ramen.

"What the fuck dude, I don't." He exclaimed in a scandalized manner, long dark hair successfully hiding the red tips of his ears. He simply furrowed his brows, chopsticks now digging in his cup as if to search for treasure, just so he didn't have to look up and meet the eyes of his very nosy friends who were sitting in his living room.

"So you only want to fuck her." Yoongi grumbled as he hit after Jimin, who'd tried to steal a peace of meat from his plate.

"Exactly- Wait no!" The young company leader corrected himself immediately. No, this wasn't just pleasure he was seeking with you- but he also denied every single clue that he was into you, romantically. After all, he'd had his fair share of romantic involvements in the past; all pathetically killing themselves royally simply because there was never true love involved. It was either for benefit, for public image, or most of the time- for his money. It was never truly just about him.

Jungkook was simply a number, nothing more. In a way, his success was mostly just a curse for his soul; he was convinced by now that everyone just wanted something from him at this point, as pathetic as it sounded. He was always just the punchline of a joke, elderly woman seeing him as a piece of meat on a richly designed table ready to be consumed- just to be spit out as soon as he'd loose flavor. It was sad really, how much he hated trusting at this point.

"Look." Namjoon started, putting down his empty cup as he sniffled from the spicy meal he'd just consumed. "As far as I know, she'd from a regular background, right?" He asked, and Jungkook nodded, slurping some noodles without paying much attention. "How long has she been working for you at this point, two years? Three years?" The younger in question nodded at three, remembering the moment you'd stepped into his office for your interview, back then with a different haircut and color, and a bit more shy than you were now. You'd found friends in coworkers, when it came to gatherings and dinners you were always missing, however. He'd never seen you at any afterparty or bithday gathering for that matter as well. "She also didn't eye you up at all during these years, right?" He asked, and Jungkook got a bit more serious as that, because his friend was right. You surely looked interested in him, but you kept it charmingly subtle- it was more like a shy glance every now and then, never to linger uncomfortably. Just like a mouse showing itself to the cat every now and then to keep the chase going without any intention to.

"Oh, did you ever pay her for buying you a new suit by the way? The one she spilled her strawberry milk on?" Jimin asked with a laugh as Jungkook shook his head.

"She didn't want it." He said, and suddenly everyone got quiet.

"She what?" Yoongi asked. "Is she stupid?" He got out before Jungkook threw him a serious glance.

"Shut up." He said through gritted teeth, as Jimin laughed and the oldest in the round threw his hands up in mocking defense. "No but.. I offered several times, but she said it was her fault. She even got mad at me when I simply put the money on her paycheck- she practically demanded me to take it back." He explained, and Namjoon nodded.

"Probably because she'd feel bad." He answered. He knew you longest and most personally out of everyone in the current gathering; he'd been in the same class back in school for a few years. And you'd always been like that- you hated being paid back favours, because you didn't want to seem like you did them just to gain something afterwards. You kept people at a safe distance, never to have them cross that line, so you could always push them away without getting seriously hurt in the process. You'd also never been in a romantic relationship for long as far as he knew- only having had one scandal back in school, where the guy you'd lost your virginity to had publicly shamed you for being 'bad in bed'. It was a mess really, and Namjoon had felt bad back then, but there was no way you'd let anyone close to you afterwards. "Look." Namjoon started, looking at the youngest. "I'd say go for it. From what I know, she's a genuine person. I'm more concerned about her in this situation than you, if I'm being honest." He said, and Jungkook looked at him scandalized.

Yoongi chimed in. "You're known to fuck around. Don't just use her as a place to throw your half-assed cumshots into, that's what he wants to say." He replied, making Jimin scrunch up his nose in distaste.

Jungkook only continued to eat in silence. You maybe had the role of the mouse in this chase- but he was a tiger waiting to be taimed.

"What is this?" He asked, very unamused, and very much not pleased. It was understandable to a level- after three and a half years you'd just handed in your termination. What you did not understand however, was the amount of emotion you could spot swimming behind his eyes- he looked a bit like when he'd accidentally spilled tea over his workspace once, scared to death if that accident would mean the death of all his hard work of the day. You'd reassured him back then that everything had been saved on the main servers, so even if his laptop was to die, which it did not, everything would still be save. He could surely find a new secretary however- there was no use to make such a huge fuss over it.

"It's my termination sir. I'll be leaving at the end of this month." You answered, a bit unsure now on your spot in front of his desk, as he pushed the tip of his tongue against the inside of his cheek, a clear sign of irritation on his side.

"Thats in two weeks, Y/N." He stated, and you nodded. "As a reason you stated 'health issues'. Is there something I should be worried about?" He asked, and you swallowed, hard.

"Is it uhm.. do I need to answer-" You began, but he cut you off with a stern voice.

"You don't have to, but I'd have to decline the termination if I don't see the reasoning as fit to be taken seriously under such short notice." He began, putting down the papers as he suddenly looked at you more intensely. "We have clear rules here Y/N, I thought you knew them by now. Vacation requests three weeks prior, and terminations as well, except for important reasons." He said, and you looked down.

"I'll be having an operation that can't be pushed anymore soon sir, and I fear I won't be able to meet your standards afterwards. Which is why I'm terminating my contract." You stated, and you swore you could see a flash of concern in his gaze as he nodded.

"Is there anything I can help you with, in preparation for that?" He asked, now shifting his interest on his laptop screen again, typing something as you got confused.

"Pardon sir?" You asked, and he clicked a few times on his touchbad, seemingly searching for something before he turned his attention back onto you.

"Your severance pay will be quite high due to the quality and timespan you've worked here. I want to make sure however, that you're taken care of personally as well, if you'd let me." He said, in such a manner that you felt like he was actually growing a bit self-conscious.

"I uhm.. I will stay at the hospital for a while to recover, and afterwards I guess I'll be fine on my own. It's really fine sir, I don't uhm.. you don't need to do anything really." You said, before sending a smile his way, trying hard not to think of this chapter as finished. Your eyes already stung at the realization that you'd be leaving this comfortable environment soon. It may seemed childish for someone else, but you considered this place a second home- everything was familiar, every routine saved into the memory of your bones, it was your comfort to work here. "I uhm.. I really enjoyed working here." You finished, as Jungkook took a closer look at you.

He seemed to think about something, before he carefully stood up, slowly walking over towards you. For the first time he didn't look detached or as if he needed to do something; his gaze was soft and gentle, and it made it so much harder not to be a crybaby in this situation. You'd always thought that he merely saw you as a secretary, but this situation, as normal as it seemed, felt so intimate. "I'm glad." He simply said, slightly opening his arms to give you the option to take or not to take his invitation for a hug.

You would've been a fool not to. After all, Jungkook wasn't a physically affectionate person- he hated the act of merely shaking hands with a passion, he'd once told you.

"Will you tell me what exactly it is?" He asked, voice so much richer and deeper now that the side of your face was leaning against his chest, head growing dizzy from his presence. You could smell his faint cologne and a fabric softener similar to the one you used- again showing you that he preferred to wash his clothes himself rather than letting others do it for him. "You don't have to, but you have me worried." He simply said, now detaching himself from you hesitantly as he saw some coworkers outside the office staring. He didn't want to make you the talk of town now, only weeks before leaving. Rumors could be aggressive, after all.

"I uhm.." You started, sniffling a bit as you sat down in front of his workdesk. "I'll have a surgery on my knee, since I take a lot of medication for the pain now, and I kinda don't want that anymore so.." You explained to him, as his brows furrowed.

"Why didn't you say anything? I wouldn't have let you work so hard if I'd known you were in pain." He said, almost with a whine, which made you smile a bit in return. You waved him off, however.

"No no, it's fine really. I keep stuff like that to myself anyways." You admitted, and he thought for a moment, before he decided, no.

He wouldn't keep you working just so he could benefit from seeing you. That would be selfish- and he didn't want to be like that. Not with you, at least. He screwed up his chance, and that was okay; he'd had all the time to ask you out, to get closer with you, after all. Maybe it was simply karma. "Take those two weeks off. Don't worry, it won't affect your payment in any form- you'll need to take your vacation time anyways, or I'll get a slap on my hands for not letting you have freetime." He simply said, as you nodded. "Dismissed." He said, in his usual tone.

This time, it made you smile, as you nodded, stood up and walked towards the door. "Y/N." He said from his desk, not looking up. "I really enjoyed having you here." He mumbled, and you grinned, nodding, before leaving the office- and the building alltogether.

"Still can't believe you haven't hired anyone else yet." Jimin accused,as he drank his soju across from Jungkook, who'd simply shrugged. It's been two months by now, and he still refused to let any secretary work as closely with him as you did before. He rather got up a bit earlier and got his morning coffee himself instead of telling anyone to do so; it was as if that was reserved to you. It wasn't the act of having you bring him his coffee like a personal assistand; it was more the fact that he got to see you first thing in the morning. In a weird way, he didn't want to see anyone so early apart form you- he was simply too grumpy for that. "What about Hannah?" He asked, and Jungkook shook his head. Hannah was a promising candidate for the role of a future girlfriend- he really liked her. But there was no romantic spark between the two, and when she'd looked at him almost as if he'd ate her dog when he'd told the waiter to split the bill of their shared dinner, he knew that it wouldn't work out. She'd been so sure that he would simply pay for everything that he had to pay the entire thing- because she didn't even carry her purse with her. "Another piranha, I see."

Namjoon came into the room, several take out boxes in hand. "What're you talking about?" He asked, and Jimin chuckled.

"Jungkookies nonexistent sex-life." He said, before getting hit with a spoon from the younger one.

"Oh, interesting actually-" He began, putting down the food before sitting down himself. "Just saw Y/N-" He started, but Jungkook, almost chomically, cut him off.

"Did she look okay? Was she alright?" He asked, and Namjoon laughed for a second before taking some chopsticks for himself, breaking them apart and making Jimin laugh when they broke the wrong way.

"She seemed okay. Walked without help, but seemed a bit wobbly still." He explained, and Jungkook nodded. "My dad said she's gonna be alright, but it's gonna take a while since she waited so long to get it done-" Suddenly, Jungkook coughed.

"Your DAD did the surgery on her?!" He yelled out, making his dog bark as if alerted, as Namjoon became wide-eyed.

"Yeah, I mean, didn't I tell you.?" He began, but Jungkook shook his head, still heavily irritated.

"No, you did not!" He began, before letting himself fall into the couch defeatedly, whining. "I could've sent her flowers or some other shit, now I fucked it up!" He exclaimed to no one in particular, his dog jumping onto his lap.

"And they say chivalry is dead." Jimin said, playfully wiggling his eyebrows as Namjoon shot him a look to shut him up.

"You can still do that though?" He asked, and Jungkook furrowed his brows.

"No, that's just.. weird. Like, imagine getting flowers from your boss MONTHS after you quit." He said, before huffing like a child. "I screwed it up, its fine." He mumbled, before Namjoon continued.

"I mean, she asked about you though.." He hummed, taking a bite of his food.

"She did what?!" Both Jimin and Jungkook asked in disbelief.

"She asked about you. How you were doing, you know, that stuff." He explained, before continuing. "Told her you fuck around, she left after that." He said, shrugging his shoulders as Jungkook yelled furiously.

"You did what?! Namjoon, what the fuck-" He started, almost tearing up before the elder one laughed. "Not funny." Jungkook commented, clearly unamused by the humor in Namjoons face.

"Sorry." He said, putting down his chopsticks. "No, but for real, she actually told me to tell you she didn't change her number or anything so.."

Jungkook looked at him quesitoningly. "So?" He asked, and Jimin groaned.

"What the fuck, is she supposed to lay on your doorstep with her legs spread out while telling you 'Oh hey come inside and make yourself at home' for you to get the message?" A grumpy Yoongi groaned out as he walked into the living room, greeting the dog. "She basically told Namjoon to tell you she wants to sit on your dick." He said, stealing a dumpling from Jimin as he took off his jacket.

"She did not-" Namjoon started, before turning to the youngest again. "But she basically did say you should message her."

"To make up a date to fuck each other!" Yoongi yelled from the kitchen. Jungkook groaned.

"I mean I do have her number.." He mumbled, and suddenly a hand was on his shoulder as the eldest came back, a glass of water in his hands.

"Then go get pussy." He said, and everyone laughed.

Everyone but the young man in question.

"You uh.. sorry its nothing special but you said you wanted something not fancy so.." He said, as he pulled out the chair as you sat down.

"No no, its fine. I like this." You answered, now a bit shy with him sitting in front of you- all casual and not at all in the regular environment you both met in. He wore a simple black button up, ripped jeans- clothes that were so.. regular, yet he made them look so expensive. Maybe it was how his body was proportioned, with long legs and a broad chest, or maybe it was simply the way he carried himself.

"You look really nice." He casually complimented, as you blushed a bit, unfamiliar with such compliments as he smiled at your reaction, licking his lips almost impishly.

He would've been a bit more shy if it wasn't for the several conversations over the phone you both have had in the past couple of days; your answers and innuendos making it clear that you were genuinely interested in him, on a higher level than just 'hit and run'. No, you'd asked about his dog when he'd sent you a picture of him, you'd wanted to know about his family, or what he did in his freetime- you both even played several rounds of overwatch together when you'd revealed to him that you play the game as well.

It made him feel confident.

Another reason he was so adamant on making sure his impression on you was the best was that you'd openly talked about your, admittedly shitty ex partners, giving him even more reason to treat you the best he could think of.

You felt a bit weird.

Not a bad weird, but a.. tingling weird. This kind of weird where you don't know where to put your hands because wherever you began to rest them your mind thought about if it looked weird. It made you feel like a kid waiting to finally be let loose on a playground. You felt so comfortable with him, that it was important for you to make a good impression on him. So when the waitress came back after you both ate a bite, you began to search for your wallet, as he smiled at you, his larger hand covering yours in a manner that told you he'd pay. "All on me." He simply said, as he payed, making you pout a bit.

Walking outside, he made sure that you were comfortable with him walking you home before walking side by side with you, never too close to not pressure you. After a moment, you began to speak. "I could've payed, you know-" You started, but he cut you off with a question.

"Why won't you call me by my name?" He asked, and you began to chew on your lip. There was no specific reason you could think of that would make sense to him. It just felt like you'd let him in if you were to say his name out loud. It was a taboo thing to call your superior by his first name, but that had been the past. Now it would mean that you were considering him your friend. Or maybe even.. more. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" He asked, and you shook your head immediately.

"No, its just.." You started, trying to think of something.

"Don't make something up now just for me. I promise I won't be offended; just be honest." He said, and you nodded.

"I'm not someone who, you know, lets people get close to me, normally." You explained, before you continued after he'd nodded, telling you wordlessly that he was following your words. "It just seems.. so intimate, if that makes sense?" Against what you'd expected however, he simply continued his gentle smile.

"That's okay. You don't have to love me right away." He offered, looking down at you with a smile. "Say it when you feel like it. We'll do whatever is comfortable with you." He offered, and you smiled.

"So you both did not, in fact, fuck each other." Jenny said, as she ate another spoonful of icecream.

"No, we did not." You said, and smiled a bit at the memory. Jenny had just gotten back from her business trip; a week full of torture as she'd called it. "We simply talked and he brought me home every day." You explained, and your friend fake-gagged playfully at that.

"Oh god, someone get me a grater for all that cheese!" She laughed, as she suddenly smiled a bit more seriously. "No but really, I'm happy. He seems nice." She said, and you nodded.

"He does."

"Do you treat everyone like me?" You'd asked one night as you shared takeout with Jungkook in his living room, having agreed to meet up at his place.

He shook his head. "Not to that extend, no. But I learned from my dad was common chivalry is- it's not that deep to be honest." He explained, as he continued eating. He looked so young like this; merely wearing a sweater and sweatpants combo, hair a bit unruled and piercings on full display. With all that business on his shoulders, one could easily forget that he was just a young man, even if he did turn 26 recently.

"Its not common, though." You commented, and he shrugged his shoulders, leaning back against the couch as he finished his meal.

"Do you want to take my bed or the couch?" He asked after a moment, after you'd finished your meal as well. You shrugged. "Then we'll sleep together." He playfully said, but got a bit shy after you'd simply nodded, not having noticed that he didn't truly mean his statement. No taking it back now though.

"Are you tired?" You asked, wondering if that was why he'd brought up the question. Jungkook was an honest guy, so he affirmed.

"A bit, honestly. Sorry." He said, but you shook your head, already picking up the empty containers and plastic bags to throw them away.

"It's fine." You simply said, as he nodded, his gaze following you for a moment before he opened the door to his backyard, ushering his dog to go out to finish his business before bedtime.

You knew you should feel at least a bit nervous, after all you'd be sharing a bed with him. But for some reason you weren't- even if something was to happen, you felt comfortable with him- enough to trust you at your most vulnerable state. At this point he'd already sneaked his way around your made up walls, way too close now to be let go off without pulling on your skin painfully at the same time. Hurting him would hurt you now- so you had simply accepted the fact that he was going to stay at your side for as long as he saw fit.

"Alright, bedtime mister." He said, leading the dog to its bed by the front door- a place his pet had chosen willingly, he once told you. "Goodnight." He mumbled, gently petting his companions head before he made his way inside his bedroom, where you followed. He closed the door quietly, turning on a small lamp on his bedside desk, before opening a window. "I like to sleep with the window open, hope you don't mind." He said, as you shook your head. You simply got into the bed after him, your way of trying to find out which side he preferred as you slipped under the covers, the smell of his by now familiar fabric softener, and distinctively his smell flooding your senses. His mattress was soft, way softer than yours at home- but it was probably worth several months worth of rent as well.

"I uh.." he suddenly said, low voice cutting through the silence after he'd turned off the lights, darkness swallowing the room fully. "I have a habit of, uhm.. undressing myself during the night so. Just to warn you." He said, before groaning a bit. "Oh god that came of kind of creepy, sorry-" But you simply laughed.

"It's okay. I hug things when I sleep, so I'll probably latch onto you during the night." You admitted, and he chuckled.

"Oh I don't mind that at all." He hummed, as you felt him turn over, probably to face you as your suspicions were confirmed when a finger almost shyly brushed over your bare arm. He was silently testing the waters, trying to find out if you were comfortable enough with him to let him go that far. To his surprise you reacted by scooting closer towards him, until your nose was close to his. He couldn't quite see you, only able to make out rough outlines as the moon wasn't shining at all outside his apartment. "Is that okay?" He asked, in a whisper, careful as if he didn't want to scare you away. He felt you nod as his hand went to lay down on your cheek, thumb finding your lower lip as he guided his onto yours, slow, as if he was only testing the waters yet.

Always so considerate.

You slowly deepened the kiss, a bit hesitant since it has been a while you'd ever kissed someone; but he took the lead after noticing you accepting his gesture, his tongue gently asking for entrance as you granted his wish, making him close his eyes as he lazily continued kissing you, his desire taking over.

Everything was slow, comfortable, and warm- the way he slowly moved to lean over you, the way his hands roamed over your body underneath your clothes. It was as if you both knew eachother already, as if you didn't need to hurry anything at all. And it was true.

He slowly undressed himself, before directing his attention towards you, helping you out of your clothes as well, careful to leave the covers over his body, as if to shield you from the chilly air coming inside from the opened window. He truly enjoyed every second, every inch of skin he laid bare of you, as his head dipped downwards, placing open mouthed kisses against your neck and collarbone as his hand gently ran over your chest, squeezing the soft flesh or a moment before his thumb grazed over the hardened nipple, making you squirm underneath him. You felt torn between a feeling of being worshipped almost, and the frustration of him going so slow. Every past sexual encounter had always been straight to the point- this was entirely new territory.

"We got time darling." He hummed suddenly amused as you began to squirm more underneath his touch. You felt his hard on against your inner thigh clear as day, yet he seemed to absolutely not notice it; his attention more so on you, as he suddenly moved underneath the covers, shaking his head a bit to get his long hair out of his eyes, piercings jingling brightly at his sudden movement before he dipped downwards, making you gasp as you felt his tongue on your center. He chuckled again as his hands held down your lower belly, keeping your hips down and legs open for him as he sucked and swallowed, making you whine at the feeling. This was the first time someone had ever gone down on you, and it made you feel absolutely incredible.

Jungkook moved again as you became close to your orgasm, hands fumbling around for a moment until he found in his drawer what he'd searched for; the crinkling sound of the foil package filling the room as you still breathed heavily. He rolled the condom over his length before he moved over you again, cooing at the cold feel of your damp skin, sweat making your body cool down rapidly. "Are you cold?" He asked, and you nodded, but held out your arms, desperate to have him close to you again. "Let me warm you up." He hummed lowly, pulling the covers over his back again before he led his cock into your core with the help of his hand, groaning at the feel of your warm walls welcoming him inside. He moved after a moment, kissing you again as if he needed to confirm that this was truly happening. "You feel like home darling." He whispered out of breath as he slowly moved a bit faster, your hands searching for his as he helped you find them, fingers intertwining as he felt his soul grow fond. He loved you, he truly did, and in that moment he realized it to the full extend. It was the same for you as he kissed your neck, hot breath against your skin making you feel protected and adored as he picked up his pace, thrusts becoming more erratic as he suddenly pushed himself inside you in one swift move, hand leaving yours to desperately move over your pearl, making your back arch off the mattress as you whined in pleasure, throwing him off the edge as well as he spilled inside the condom.

His forehead rested against your shoulder as he chuckled, slowly slipping out of you as you laughed along with him.

"I swear that was not my intention when I said we'd sleep together." He said, and you laughed a bit harder at that, kissing the side of his jaw affectionately as he kissed your neck. "I love you. I really do."

"That's okay." you said still a bit out of breath, and he wished you could've seen the bright smile he sported at your next words.

"I love you too, Jungkook."

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Magicam Live

Vil’s guest is a pest. Contains coarse language, people being catty bitches, and more telling than showing.

You want more, check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag. If you liked it, let me know!

~*~*~*~

Transcript of Last Week's Magicam Live From *schoenheit_official

Vil: Hello my dearest fans! As promised, I will be showing off my newest capsule makeup collection, to be released this Monday exclusively at Feathersweep Cosmetics. However, due to high demand, instead of simply demonstrating on myself, I thought I would show that anyone could be half as beautiful as me with these!

[He holds a hand out to the side.]

V: Please welcome my fellow student at Night's Raven College, Yuu.

Yuu: Yo.

[A girl with short, dark hair and tired eyes sits down beside him. Spotty and plump, with a notable double chin. She's notably underdressed, compared to Vil.]

Y: I am she. I'm *donegotisekaid, if you haven't seen yet. Full of genuine memes from another universe, as well as me figuring this place out, and pictures of my not-cat.

V: She's simply been begging me for a makeover!

Y: He asked me if I'd do it, actually.

[Vil stops and takes a deep breath, clearly irritated.]

V: Yes, well. You've prepared?

Y: I scrubbed my face real good and managed to leave most of my pimples alone, if that's what you mean.

[Vil sighs]

V: As much as you're capable of, clearly. We'll start with the primer.

Y: [with a smile] Didn't you already give me one on how to act in this?

[Vil pinched the bridge of his nose, regret pouring from every cell in his body.]

V: Just lie back and be quiet until I'm done with you.

[Yuu looks at the camera, but says nothing. There's an audible snicker from behind the camera.]

[There are a few quiet minutes where Vil prepares her face, before selecting a foundation.]

V: So, is there a reason you don't wear makeup? You could look quite nice with it.

Y: Few reasons. It's a lot of effort, and I tire easily. I don't really like the feel of it on my face, and I tend to touch my face a lot anyways, so it doesn't last. It's a lot of money, and I break out very easily.

V: I can see that. Don't you use face wash?

Y: You should have seen me when I did use it! Much worse.

V: Ugh. I'll give you something later. And none of these have a good tone for you.

Y: Just pick the closest! I'll end up wrecking it by a few hours from now anyways.

[Vil rolled his eyes.]

V: Rook, any questions from the chat?

[A familiar accented voice from offscreen]

Rook: *stellargems wants to know how Yuu found herself at NRC.

Y: Transdimensional bullshit. I'm here until we figure out how I can get home. It's not bad, I don't miss it much.

V: Yuu even has her own dorm so she doesn't have to bother anyone.

Y: Not that it stops me.

V: [sotto voce] Don't we all know.

Y: If they kept you in a building with four usable rooms total and no electricity, you'd be out and about too. At least the ghosts there are really nice and help me out.

V: Do you kiss these ones too, or was that a one time thing?

Y: If I hadn't kissed her we'd be down a student and you and half the people I hang out with would be paralyzed, so don't make fun.

[Vil stops to regard the camera.]

V: To clarify, there was an incident with a ghost princess causing a lot of trouble at the school a few months ago. Yuu decided to kiss her to fix everything, because she's both stupid and deeply strange.

Y: It was really fun until I started dying.

V: All her blood was on the outside. It was disgusting.

Y: It did work though!

V: Keep telling yourself that, you didn't kiss the one you really wanted to.

[Yuu gives him the finger, and Vil shoves her hand down.]

R: *vilpleasefathermychildren asks-

[Yuu sputters with laughter. Vil just winks at the camera with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.]

R: They want to know if there'll be a coupon code for the new release.

V: There will! It'll be released via the official fanclub email Sunday night.

Y: It'll be a whole three percent off and you have to pay to access it.

V: Stop that.

Y: [sweetly] No.

Rook: *getterbackback wants to know what your shirt says?

Y: Yeah, hold on.

[She stands and pulls the shirt out to be seen better. It says in large letters, I'M CUTE AND I BITE]

Y: You can do one yourself if you take a dark shirt, tape the parts you want covered, and scorch the area around it with diluted bleach. I've done a few of these, a few designs more than once.

V: Destroyed them?

Y: Nah, Lil wants at least one of every one I do.

V: [to the camera] That would be our fellow student Lilia Vanrouge, from Diasomnia.

Y: He's pretty great. He's *elderbatbrat if you want to look him up.

V: Sit back down so I can figure out which blush to use.

Y: Pinks and corals work best for my skin tone.

V: I thought you didn't wear makeup?

Y: Why do you think I know wearing it tires me out? It's not something I ever did a lot because of the effort.

Y: Except for highlighter. it's basically sparkles and it's light, so I like that.

V: You remember that, but not your proper name?

Y: Ain't life grand.

R: I'm getting several questions about that. Would you care to elabourate for the chat?

Y: Yeah. I don't remember a lot about where I'm from. Culturally? Lots. What I like? What I don't like? Everything. Names and places specific to who I was? No. And don't ask me to think about it too hard, I get the worst fucking headache and I stop seeing right.

V: You've never seen right in your life.

Y: Oh, fuck off, Vil.

[Vil stops blushing one cheek to point.]

V: Stop that.

[Yuu responds by biting at his finger with an audible click when her teeth meet, laughing hysterically as Vil pulls back in shock.]

V: !!! Dreadful little monster!

Y: Yeah, but you're the one who thought you'd get more views if I was here.

R: We indeed just surged another 20,000 views and counting! Excellent work, Yuu.

Y: Thank you, Rook.

[Vil looks ready to explode.]

Y: I won't bite again, that was just too easy. Please continue, I do want to see what magic you can do.

V: This is regular makeup.

Y: Metaphorically, you jackass. 

R: *rosemassacre wants to know if you're always like this.

V: She's always this horrible.

Y: Vil first saw me and called me a dumpy little potato. I told him it's because I'm great all ways and everyone wants a taste, and slapped my ass at him. He's been obsessed with me ever since.

V: I am not obsessed with you.

R: You go into a rage over her at least once a week.

V:  She can't go a week without being a pest.

Y: I went three after you kicked me out of the movie club.

V: You can't just project violence on the walls of Pomfiore because I said we weren't going to watch it!

Y: Vil, it was The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, and it is art.

V: A man gets sawed in half in the first ten minutes.

Y: To an absolutely bangin' soundtrack. Oh that reminds me. Ad time, hold on.

[She wiggles a little before puting on her best customer service face.]

Y: If you want to access media that is quite literally from another world, please go to MonstroMedia dot com and sign up! There's ebooks, movies, tv, music, and more. Much of it is horror, sci-fi and fantasy, as it's from my person collection of media brought with me on my laptop and backup drives. You can use the code SHOENHEITSAYSWHAT for the first month free!

[She put her hand up and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone.]

Y: I completely understand piracy, but I'd appreciate if you paid because this is the only way I get spending money, and I can only bat my eyes at these boys so much before they expect something in return for gifts.

V: How'd Ashengrotto talk you into that one?

Y: He was going to make me start paying for all the food I eat if I didn't.

R: *waterwitchesbetgitches says, and I quote, "so like if ur the only gal at NRC how many boyfs you have"

Y: So many. At least twenty. Even more if there were girls here.

V: That is a gross exaggeration. She has maybe three, if we're being very generous on the definition.

Y: [points] And he's mad he's not one of them.

V: [squinting] You are absolutely dreadful and I can't understand how you're so popular.

Y: I like you too, Vil.

[Vil pauses, visibly taken aback.]

V: ... Thank you.

V: You know you're going to have paparazzi on your tail now, right?

Y: Aw, shit.

R: *insertmagicamhandlehere wants to know what's on your neck.

V: An antique chain with an attached charm specially made for me by Soleil Atelier.

R: I believe that was for Yuu.

[Yuu snickers, as Vil looks for himself. When her collar is pulled down, it fully reveals a vicious set of hickeys with visible toothmarks.]

V: Eww.

Y: You should see the other guy.

V: Eww!

[Vil takes a moment to recover, while Yuu laughs.]

Y: That could be a second part! Everyone needs that tutorial. "Bruise Coverup How-to by Vil Shoenheit: For when you just can't keep them off of you."

[Vil mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like "nerds shouldn't be allowed to fuck"]

Y: Then where would your fans be?

V: At least there's only setting spray after this and then you can leave.

Y: Won't you get bored without me here?

R: One last question! *shroudstreaming has asked... well, there's a lengthy keysmash and an all-caps "why".

Y: Ah. Hi, babe!

Y: Hey, everyone go follow him, he's a total fucking babe and he refuses to take my word for it, no matter what I do to him-

[Vil sprays setting spray directly in her face, leading to Yuu coughing.]

V: No taste at all, and gross to boot. 

Y: Asshole.

[Vil offers a mirror]

V: No. Miracle worker.

[Yuu looks... well, the same, but with an even, well made-up face.]

Y: ... Aww. You remembered I like sparkles.

V: Less likely to scrub it off if you actually like it.

[Yuu's admiring herself for a few moments in silence, with Vil watching, quite pleased.]

Y: Hey, can I do you next?

V: Absolutely not.

Y: Ask the chat.

V: No.

R: Chat says yes.

V: [With a visible eye roll] Ugh, fine. 

Y: Aight. Take your shirt off.

V: What.

[Yuu brings up a case and flips it open. Inside is a magazine with a gory cover, and various things like fake blood and liquid latex.]

Y: Alright kiddies. You wanna learn how to slit a man's throat?

[Vil gets up and walks away without another word.]

Y: You said I could! Get back here!

[Yuu follows. Rook emerges from behind the camera.]

R: That's it for tonight, ma belles. Next time.

[Magicam Live ends, but not before audible yelling and scuffling, quickly cut off.]

[donteattheappleshook]

It Was Only a Kiss 1 /3

Summary:

Neverland may kill her. If it’s not her fear for Henry, then it will her exhaustion, or her doubt, or the overwhelming despair that she’ll never get out of here alive, that she’ll fail her son, that she’ll fail everyone. There’s only one thing she’s found that can silence it all, that can make her feel real again. She shouldn’t be seeking comfort in Hook. She shouldn’t, but she does. It was only a kiss. That was all it was supposed to be. But now that she’s started, she doesn’t think she can stop. Not now that she knows what it’s like. 

Rated E. 

Also available on Ao3

My first entry for the @neverlandnewyear​ 

Disclaimer: @elizabeethan and I are very aware that we are basically writing the same story. This is how the event started. A big thank you to Elizabeth for betaing this fic and to @xhookswenchx as well for letting me brainstorm out loud with you guys. 

***

Part One: Neverland

It had all started with a kiss. That was all it was supposed to be. Just a kiss; a one time thing. She’d been feeling good, she’d been relieved, he’d saved her father’s life for god’s sake. What she hadn’t expected was that kissing him would make her feel better- would make her feel like, for a second, things would stay better. For a whole thirty seconds, she’d forgotten that she was trapped in fucking Neverland, that her son was missing, that her parents were breathing down her neck, constantly giving her these sad desperate eyes, begging for mother daughter bonding time or ready to offer up speeches about hope. 

No, for thirty goddamn seconds- for the first time in months- she’d just been Emma Swan and he’d just been Captain Hook and nothing else had mattered. It had been addictive, that feeling, that relief, the rushing of her blood and the turning in her stomach being brought on by excitement and desire rather than fear and anxiety. So she’d shut it down. “Don’t follow me,” she’d ordered, afraid of what might happen if he did, of what she’d do. She couldn’t start flirting and making out with Hook, or doing anything else with him for that matter. Not while her son was out there, not if she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop. 

To his credit, he respects her wishes. He waits a whole twenty minutes before returning to camp, arms full of firewood. She doesn’t miss the nod her father gives him and it raises a strange sort of satisfaction in her. She doesn’t know exactly what went on between them on their little adventure but this is the first time David hasn’t glared daggers at him since they met. When Hook’s eyes meet hers though, she swears the whole damn camp must feel the tension between them. 

Her body stiffens, that twisting in her gut coming back in a mix of the good and the bad now, but he doesn’t say anything. He only smiles at her a little sadly before dumping the wood into the fire pit so Regina can light it. Then he takes a seat across the camp, as far from her as he can manage and pulls out his flask. She only realises she’s staring when she catches herself watching his throat as he swallows. Stop. 

“We should turn in,” she says, noting how dark it is suddenly. Hadn’t it been midday less than an hour ago? Does time even exist on this island where it seems to both stand still and move too fast? 

“Aye,” Hook says, nodding and returning his flask to his pocket. “I’ll take the first watch.” She almost expects her parents or even Regina to protest, but to her surprise no one does. 

As they set about unrolling the bed mats, she can’t help but glance over at him. Something is… off. She’s not sure what it is, but he’s quiet. Way too quiet. Normally she can’t get him to stop talking- one innuendo or flirtatious comment after another- but now, nothing. 

When she glances over again, he’s watching her, eyes boring into her like he’s trying to burn a hole through her and still, there’s that sadness, that regret. That’s what it looks like: regret. Does he regret kissing her? After all his quips about fancying her and the little playful smirks, has he changed his mind? 

She focuses back on what she’s doing. Who cares if he regrets it? She should regret it. It was a stupid idea. Her son is here. Everyday he gets further and further away from her. She knows how easy it is to start believing you’ve been abandoned. How easy it is to slide into the role of an orphan, to build walls. The thought of Henry feeling any of what she spent her whole childhood feeling - it kills her and that unpleasant twisting in her gut is back, the one that makes her want to vomit. She doesn’t know how to get rid of it, how to stop it. 

Well, she does know one way. But she can’t do that. Not again. She tells herself that over and over again. She can’t. She tells herself that as she lays down on her mat. She tells herself as she listens to Regina complain about sleeping in the forest. She tells herself as she hears her parents whispering sickeningly sweet nothings to each other.  She tells herself again as she hears everyone’s breathing even out and the jungle goes quiet- she can’t. But they’re all asleep. Well, everyone except her. Everyone except her and Hook. 

She hears him sigh, a deep, heavy thing, and she turns over to face him. She can’t see him well in the dark but she can make out that his head has fallen into his hand, and can picture him running it through his hair in frustration. Even from here, she can sense how tense he is. 

His hand scrubs over his face and he lets out another one of those sighs, this one angrier, and stands suddenly to cross the small space quickly, pacing back and forth. He reaches a tree then and she jumps as he strikes it. 

She must have made a sound because his head snaps towards her, clearly on high alert, and it makes her feel a little better having him keeping watch. His shoulders relax when he realises it was her and not some lost boy trying to find his way into the camp. 

She meets his eyes in the dark. Even in the blackness of the night, she can feel his stare heavy on hers and her heart hammers against her ribcage. She shuts her eyes tight, determined to just stop thinking about everything- about him, about Henry, about Pan,- and just sleep, but sleep doesn’t come. Instead, she finds more fears, more worries, more doubts, and soon she’s sitting up, scrubbing a hand over her own face. 

The tell tale sound of his flask being opened makes her turn to look at him as he drinks deeply from it before leaning against the tree he’d struck earlier. His head falls back against it as another sigh leaves him. There’s a long silence, the jungle is heavy and quiet as the dead, not even a rustling of wind or a chirping cricket, and it sends a shiver down her spine. 

He doesn’t say anything, but after a moment, he raises his arm while holding the flask out in her direction. She only hesitates for a moment- she shouldn’t do this. She shouldn’t have a midnight drink with Hook. She shouldn’t want to ask him what’s wrong. Shouldn’t want him to ask her what’s wrong. 

She shouldn’t, but she does anyway. 

Emma takes the flask from him and swallows a mouthful, wondering for a moment how it could still be full. Knowing him, it’s probably enchanted. The rum feels good as it burns down her throat, settling hot in her stomach. She takes another drink. 

She hands it back to him finally and he takes it, his fingers closing over hers around the bottle, and she looks up at him with a sharp inhale. Neither of them move even though every fiber in her body is telling her to step closer. Or to run away. She nearly does, nearly uses their shared grip to pull him closer, nearly turns and heads back to her mat to fein sleep. 

But then he drops his hand, taking the bottle with him, and she regains her senses. This is Hook, she reminds herself. He’s one of the bad guys, or he was. She’s not even sure anymore. But he still hasn’t said anything, and it’s starting to worry her. Here they are, almost alone in the dark, drinking together, and he hasn’t so much as raised an eyebrow at her. Surely he can’t regret kissing her that much. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks finally, the words falling out of her mouth of their own free will. 

“Nothing.” 

“I don’t believe you,” she pushes. 

He shrugs, taking another drink. “You don’t have to.” 

“Hook.”

“Swan,” he repeats and she rolls her eyes. That makes him smile a little at least. “Why are you up?” he asks, turning the question on her. 

“Can’t sleep,” she says simply, taking the flask from him again. It’s definitely enchanted. 

“Why not?” he pushes and when she doesn’t answer, he grins at her a little. Fine. They can keep their secrets. “Funny thing about Neverland,” he says then, and she looks at him wearily. “The ones who’ve always known love sleep soundly. It’s the ones who’ve been left behind who can’t find rest. That’s why you hear the Lost Boys at night.” She straightens her shoulders, her jaw clenching. Open book, he’d said. He nods, like she’s confirmed something. “So you do hear them.”   

“How’s your hand?” she snaps, changing the subject. He doesn’t seem so restful himself.

“Which one?” he asks and she’s relieved to hear the teasing slipping back into his tone. Instead of answering, she takes another drink. He flexes his fingers a few times, turning his hand over to look at his knuckles. 

“I’ve had worse,” he tells her, gesturing vaguely with his hook and she nearly chokes on the rum. He smirks and takes the bottle back when she hands it over. “You should sleep, Swan. Get some rest.” 

“Yeah, well,” is all she can say. She’d love to sleep, but as long as Henry’s out there… Another silence hangs between them. “He’ll be alright,” Killian says then, and her heart swells into her throat, her voice coming out cracked and weak when she speaks. She wonders if Henry’s sleeping tonight, or if he already feels like a lost boy. 

“How do you know?” 

“If he’s anything like his father,” he starts and then looks at the ground for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “If he’s anything like you, then I’ve no doubt he can outwit Pan long enough for us to find him. He’s brave, Swan. You taught him well. I know a survivor when I see one.” 

And that’s it. She breaks. A sob bursts from her chest, her hand snapping up to cover her mouth as every horrible thought she’s had since they got here- every thought she’s pushed down and refused to face- comes rushing to the surface. 

She didn’t teach him. Any bravery, any survival drive he has isn’t because of her. She left him. She abandoned him. She left him to fend for himself in a world that she knew was nothing but cruel. She’s only known him a year. And if this year is all she gets with him, if Pan wins, if he takes Henry from her… She can’t lose him, not when she’s only just found him.

She struggles to muffle her cries, desperate not to wake her parents but unable to stop herself now. She can’t handle another speech about hope, about good always winning. Not when they’re so close to finding Henry but just as close to losing him forever. Good doesn’t always win; life’s proved that to her over and over again. If she’d kept him, if she’d just held him that one time, he wouldn’t be here at all. He’d be safe. He’d be with her. There wouldn’t be any magic or villains or monsters to threaten him. This is her fault. She can’t lose him. 

Hook only hesitates a moment before he’s pulling her into his arms, cradling the back of her head in his hand and letting her tears seep into his shirt and his chest, letting her silence her cries against the leather of his coat. Her fingers find the chain on his neck and twist around it for something to hang onto, something to ground her. 

He doesn’t say a word and she’s grateful for it. There’s nothing he could say that could make this better. Everything hurts. Her chest burns from strain and fear and she can’t stop thinking, can’t stop crying, though that’s all she wants. She wants it to stop, all of it. She wants to stop hurting. She wishes she’d never come to Storybrooke, wishes she’d never broken the fucking curse, wishes she’d never seen Neal again and let him and Tamara and all this fucking magic and madness into Henry’s life. He’d have been better off without them- without her. 

Her sobs slow after what feels like hours, all the energy drained from her body, but the pain won’t go away. She may have run out of tears to shed, but the fear and self-loathing are still wracking her body, making her shake as she holds tighter to Hook’s necklace, her other hand finding the fabric of his shirt and bunching it in her fist. 

She can hear him shushing her softly, his lips pressing against her temple as she trembles again. The sharp pain in her chest morphs into an ache that fills both of her lungs, suffocating her, drowning her. It overwhelms her, the grief, as though she’ll never be happy again. She imagines this is what it’s like to have her heart ripped out. She wonders if that would hurt less.

She just wants it all to stop. She can’t take it, feels like she’s going to crumble under the weight of it. She just needs something good. Just one fucking good thing, one good feeling. She turns her face into Hook's neck, seeking the warmth of his skin against her drying cheeks and the comfort of his soothing phrases breathed against her ear. She just wants it to stop. She just wants to feel something else, wants to know she still can feel something else. 

She slides her hand from the chain at his chest up to his neck and pulls him down enough so she can press her lips to his. It’s messy and desperate, but he lets her kiss him, lets her fist her fingers in his hair and slide her tongue past his lips, and slowly, the pain is overtaken by this new ache that he stirs in her. It’s not enough, though. His hand is at her hip but she needs it everywhere, she needs him to erase every thought and feeling with his mouth and his hand and his hook. She needs him to make everything go away like he did earlier. She just needs more.

Her lips find his jaw and his neck, trailing heady, open-mouth kisses to his collarbone, and she hears his strangled moan as he catches his lip between his teeth, his breath panting above her. 

“Emma,” he whispers, and she knows he thinks they should stop. The others are right there. But like he said, they can sleep soundly. “Emma, wait,” he says, a little desperately as she pushes him back against the tree. But she doesn’t listen. She shuts him up with her mouth on his as her hands reach for the few measly buttons he actually bothered to fasten. Her fingers undo them quickly and move to his belt before he stops her with his hook on her wrist. “Emma, I - I can’t…” 

“What?” she demands to know. Why can’t he? She knows he wants to, she can feel the evidence pressing against her stomach through his leathers, and while his hook may have stopped her, his hand has a death grip on her hip. His head falls back against the tree.

“I have to tell you something,” he says, and she can tell from his tone that she won’t like it; that it’ll hurt. She doesn’t want that. She’s had enough of that. She just wants him. 

“I don’t want to know.” She shakes her head and tugs him closer, and he lets out a sound that’s close to a whine.

She knew kissing him was dangerous; even as she pulls him back to her and kisses him again, she feels the rush of relief from the exhilaration and she knows she’s already hooked. She craves him and the release she knows he can bring her. “Please,” she says pathetically against his lips.

He doesn’t stop her from kissing him, but he doesn’t move until she reaches for his belt again and he stops her once more. She nearly lets out a cry of frustration, as she snaps her head back to glare at him. He barely gives her a second to be truly angry before his hand grasps the back of her neck and he kisses her like he’s drowning, like she’s the air he needs to breathe. 

He turns her, pushing her back against the tree behind her as he tilts her head so he can open her mouth and find her tongue with his own. She moans softly against his lips and reaches desperately for him, clawing at his jacket, sliding her hands into his open shirt, dragging them through the hair at his chest. 

He pulls back with a gasp and takes both her hands, pulling them away from him and trapping her arms at her side. She has a mind to protest but his lips find her neck, trailing down her throat to her collarbone and down her chest and the words die on her lips. His teeth and tongue tease at the spot beneath her ear, the hollow of her throat, the valley between her breasts, making her writhe against him. 

He finally releases one of her hands so that his own can trace up her side, slide under her shirt and cup her breast in his palm. His thumb drags over the peak through her bra and he swallows her gasp with his mouth. She frees her other hand, giving up on undressing him and tangling both into his hair as he shoves her shirt aside with his hook and drags his tongue over one nipple before taking it into his mouth. 

She’s too loud again and his lips quiet her even as his fingers trail down her stomach to the waist of her jeans. He pauses, toying with the button, the scratch of his nails against her skin driving her insane and he looks at her as he pulls away long enough to meet her eyes. She realises what he’s waiting for and nods furiously, dragging his mouth back to hers as he makes quick work of popping the button and yanking down the zipper. 

The first touch of his fingers against her center is bliss and fire. She only barely manages to catch her moan, it coming out as a desperate sigh, her forehead falling against his as she grabs his lapels the way she had that afternoon. She expects him to say something, to smirk or laugh or whisper filth in her ear, but instead he just watches her, eyes fixated on her face as his fingers slide inside of her and find a rhythm. 

When his thumb finds her clit, she can’t contain the sounds she makes anymore and he captures her mouth with his to keep her quiet, his kisses languid and slow and deep as his hand works her higher. He’s everywhere, his tongue sliding against her own, his fingers curling and circling, his chest pressed to hers. He’s all she can see and think and feel and she lets it overwhelm her, lets all the horrible thoughts of the day and of this place slip away under his touch. 

When her mouth leaves his for air- hands fisting tighter in the leather and pulling him even closer as she pants and gasps, already nearly there- his lips find her neck. He presses slow, deliberate kisses against her skin, his tongue playing against every sensitive spot he can find as his fingers and thumb work faster, driving her to that edge she so desperately wants to fall over. 

“Yes,” she whispers into the darkness when he finds just the right spot, just the right pace, and he redoubles his efforts. She can feel him watching her, can see the awe and the reverence in his eyes as he watches her come apart on his hand, and it’s too much. She drags his mouth back to hers, rolling her hips and riding his fingers until she comes with a gasp, her head falling back against the tree as for one, small moment, she feels something good again. 

When she comes to, he’s pressing soft, gentle kisses to her jaw and below her ear as his fingers slow within her. She doesn’t protest when he takes her lips with his own again, too boneless and blissed out to register the intimacy of his kiss, to be bothered by it. She reaches for the laces of his pants, but he shakes his head, resting his forehead against hers. 

There’s a moment when she can tell he wants to say something, his whole body tensing and his brow pulling down like he’s in pain. But instead he kisses her again, harder and more desperate than before. There’s an edge to it, like he worries this will be the last time. 

And it should be, she reminds herself. Fuck. She just let Captain Hook finger her against a tree a few dozen feet from where her parents sleep. She nearly let him fuck her against it. What the hell was she thinking? She wants to tell him that this was a mistake, that it was another one time thing,but as his lips leave hers and a sigh leaves him, she knows she can’t promise either of them that. 

The moment he steps back, she can feel the bad thoughts starting to creep in again and she nearly grabs him and holds him close just to keep them at bay. It’s never been like this. She’s never craved the comfort of a man’s presence, of his touch before. And it scares the shit out of her. 

“You should get some sleep, love,” he tells her and she nods, only half registering what he’s saying. She doesn’t know what to say. Should she thank him? Address what this was or wasn’t? Warn him not to tell anyone? No, he wouldn’t do that. So she says nothing, setting her clothes right and returning to her mat. 

She watches him as she tries to sleep, watches the tension return to his shoulders and the heaviness return to his composure. When he looks up at one point, finds her in the dark and catches her studying him, his brow pinches tight and then relaxes, a melancholy and a want settling over his features and it stirs new longing in her gut. Fuck. She should never have kissed him. 

***

The next morning, Mary Margaret tells her Neal is alive. She doesn’t believe it. Not until she looks to Hook and sees the guilt and the shame on his face and she knows it’s true. Was that what he wanted to tell her last night? Was that why he wouldn’t let her touch him? 

Neal’s alive. The revelation settles like a lead weight in her gut. She can’t. She can’t handle him being alive. After all the pain he’d caused her, his death had finally let her put him behind her, let her move on from everything he’d done… let her begin to see the possibility of being happy again. And now he’s coming crashing back into her life again. 

They have to find him. She knows they do; he’s Henry’s father. She owes her son the attempt to rescue him if nothing else. She may never forgive him, but Henry has a right to make up his own mind, so they head off after him. Another detour, another chance at breaking her heart again, another chance to hurt. 

She doesn’t know why she tells Mary Margaret. The words just slip out. ‘I kissed him.’ She can’t explain why she did it either, can’t explain to the woman who preaches hope that she feels hopeless, that finding solace in Hook and what he makes her feel is the only thing keeping her alive, keeping her going right now. She’d never understand. 

‘I’m sure Neal will understand,’ she says, and it feels like a slap. She thinks she needs Neal to forgive her, after everything he’s done. She doesn’t say much else the rest of the way. 

“I kissed Emma.” The confession makes her roll her eyes. They did a hell of a lot more than kiss. How is that his biggest secret? But what he says next, about moving on, about finding love again… until I met you. 

Her heart hammers against her chest and she fights to ignore all the feelings his reveal brings to the surface. She’d thought maybe, with Neal dead, she could start to think of moving on, of trying again. But he’s not dead. And Hook just told her he’s falling for her and all of it is too much and she can’t handle it. She needs to focus on Henry. He’s all that matters. Her feelings, what she wants, it doesn’t matter. 

When they make their way back to camp, Neal finds her and she feels the need to apologize. Everything she said in the cave was true, but it was harsh. He may have hurt her more than anyone in her life ever had or likely will again, but she can’t help but feel guilty. She blames Mary Margaret. 

“I have a secret, too,” he tells her. “I’ll never stop fighting for you.” 

Her throat constricts, she can barely talk, barely breathe through it. No! she wants to shout. No, I don’t want that. He hadn’t listened to her at all. She’d told him she wished he was dead, that the idea of him being alive, of being a walking, talking reminder of the worst moments of her life, was too much for her to handle. A part of her may always love him, and she’ll hate that, but she can never forgive him. The thought that he believes they can find their way back to each other, that she can excuse what he did as though it doesn’t matter… she feels small, worthless, all of the bad creeping back in. 

He walks away first, going after the others, but she takes a moment in an attempt to compose herself and bottle up all the emotions once again so she can just focus on why she’s here and not on her heart being slowly ripped to shreds. 

“Are you coming, Swan?” she hears, and she looks up to see Hook standing a few feet away. His whole body is hesitant, poised to run if she tells him to leave. But she doesn’t say anything. She still can’t find words. 

I’ll never stop fighting for you. I’ll never stop fighting for you. It plays over and over in her head and she wants to scream. The thought of him being there, of Neal being around all the time, trying to worm his way back into her life and her heart -

“I’m sorry,” Hook says then and her eyes snap up to his. She frowns. Why is he sorry? “If my confession made things awkward for you and Balefire, I apologize. It wasn’t my intention. I heard you speaking just now and -” she wants to laugh. She almost does laugh. 

“I told him I wished he was dead.”

“You what?” 

“In the caves. I told him I wished he was dead, that having him in my life hurt too much, that I couldn’t take it. And he took that as an invitation to try to worm his way back in. And Mary Margaret, my mom, wants me to let him. She’s all about forgiveness,” she practically spits. “But if she knew what he did, if she knew…” She’d probably say the same thing, Emma realises with a twist in her stomach. 

“What do you want?” Killian asks then, taking a step forward and then another, closing the distance between them. He’s still hesitant, still not turned towards her, but his head ducks down, trying to catch her eye and she does let out a laugh this time. Bitter and hopeless. She doesn’t even know what she wants. She can’t remember the last time someone asked her that. She just wants it all to stop, the barrage of memories, old and fresh wounds opening up again leaving her raw and exposed and vulnerable. She just wants it all to stop. 

She shouldn’t. Not after his confession, not when he might think it means more than it does. But she reaches for him, taking his face in both her hands and pulling him to her, slanting her mouth over his, invading his mouth with her tongue, desperate for that release she’s come to associate with him. 

He doesn’t miss a beat, both arms wrapping around her waist, tightening and pulling her closer as he groans into her mouth. This, this is what she wants. His lips devour her, tongue delving deep and demanding as his hand traces her side where she isn’t wedged against him. His fingers trail over her breast, her waist, her hip and her thigh, his arm dragging her hips against his own as he rolls them against her, the hard ridge of him pressing against her center through all their clothes and making her gasp. 

He bites her lip, soothing it with his tongue before doing the same to her chin and her jaw and her neck and her shoulder, never stopping the steady grind of his cock against the seam of her jeans. She’s lost in the ache and the passion and the pleasure. Fucking hell, how he can make her feel this good with all their clothes on is beyond her, but if he stops, she might kill him. 

“Emma?” Mary Margaret’s voice cuts through the quiet and she wants to cry as Hook jumps back from her before her mother can emerge from the dense forest. She looks between the two of them, Hook with his back to her, his hand crossed over and resting on the hilt of his sword as he says something about them having thought they heard lost boys lurking in the jungle. She helps them do a sweep but decides they’re safe and they head back to the camp. She can feel him watching her the whole way back. 

 ***

 They almost die. Both of them. Over a fucking lighter. 

Okay, she knows it’s not about the lighter, but the fact that they let anything get between them, let anything risk their lives, risk Henry’s life… she’s furious. She hangs on to it, grabs hold of her anger with both hands and doesn’t let go because if she does she knows what will creep in. The fear. The fear that gripped her when she saw Killian at the shadow’s mercy. 

She tells herself it was hatred and anger at Pan that made her find her magic. But she knows that’s a lie. It was him. The thought that she would lose him. She couldn’t lose him. Not after what he said. When I win your heart, Emma, and I will win it, it will not be because of any trickery. It’ll be because you want me. 

Even now, remembering his promise sends her heart racing and her blood rushing through her veins and she wants. She’d almost kissed him then, almost let him in, almost let herself believe that maybe there was a possibility… 

And then he went and almost got himself killed and she remembered again, remembered that she couldn’t let herself want him because everyone she’s ever cared about has left her, hurt her, abandoned her. Why would he be any different? 

The whole way back to camp, Neal won’t even look at her. It takes her a moment to realise why. Because of her magic. He hates it, is disgusted by it. She heard it in his voice when he asked if Regina was teaching her and it hurts to hear him disparage it, to hear him fear it. 

But then, suddenly, they’re arguing again and she snaps. Her mother warned her about the dangers of both of them having feelings for her. She just hadn’t thought this was what she’d meant. She knew that Mary Margaret wanted her to choose Neal, to reunite her family, and she worried that Hook might not react well. But she’d never imagined the risk they would put themselves in. Both of them. She can’t choose either of them, no matter that they’ve both asked her to. It’s too dangerous. 

Enough. It's enough. She can’t take it. They already almost died and now they’re at it again. So she tells them like it is. She doesn’t have room for either of them in her life. Not for Neal’s persistence or Hook’s heartfelt confessions. She can’t. Not now. She needs to focus on Henry, on saving him and she can’t do that if she’s spending her time thinking about them. She sees the acceptance on Hook’s face. She can’t do that if she has to watch him die. It would break her. 

When she thought Neal was dead, it had been a relief. All that pain had finally managed to leave her after over a decade. But when she saw Hook pinned against that tree, saw the life being ripped right out of him, god, it might as well have been her own shadow being ripped out. 

She shuts her eyes as she walks away, trying to block the image of him screaming, of him begging her to go, from her mind. But it won’t go away. It just stays there, playing over and over well into the night as she tosses and turns on her mat. Neal has placed his own right next to hers, closer than she’d like. She’d seen her mother smile when he did it. 

Regina’s on watch duty tonight and Emma sighs as she sits up, unable to sleep but glad for the other woman’s indifference to her troubles. Neal sleeps soundly, the sound of his breathing distracting. How can he sleep so peacefully while she continues to grow more and more distressed, continues to break at his hands? It’s not fair. She needs to get away. She needs to just… she glances over at where Hook lays a more respectable distance away. 

She can tell he’s awake. His head turns to look at her after a moment and she meets his eyes. He almost died today. At least he has the good sense to look ashamed. She hates how much she wants to crawl across the space between them, feel his heartbeat under her hand, reassure herself that he’s really okay, let him wrap himself around her and hold her until the dread finally leaves her. She wants to let him take everything away with his body against hers, make her forget everything the way she knows he can do so well. 

But they’re in the middle of the camp with eyes everywhere, so she can’t. Instead, she has to stew in it. In her fear for Henry, in her anxiety over nearly losing two people she cares about today, in her growing shame over her magic, both her possession of it and her failure to control it. At what he said. At what Hook said and how much it made her want, how much it reminded her that she can’t have the things she wants. 

She can’t breathe. Right now, literally feeling like she’s trapped between the two of them, between two paths to inevitable heartbreak, she can’t breathe. She just needs to get away. She stands, storming past Hook and Regina into the thick canopy of trees. It’s not until she’s several hundred feet away that she finally feels like she can take a breath again. 

Emma only realises what a stupid thing she’s done when she hears a rustling behind her. She reaches for her sword but it’s not there and panic seeps through her as she realises she left it next to her mat. But before she can look for a place to hide, a figure emerges from the dark and she lets out a breath. Hook. 

“Apologies,” he says when he spots her, sees what must be the obvious distress on her face. “I saw you left your cutlass behind. It’s not safe to be alone in this jungle. Especially unarmed,” he warns her, just this side of chastising. She rolls her eyes but sees that he’s holding her blade in his hand and appreciates that he’s brought it to her. 

“Thanks,” she says sincerely as she takes it from him.  

He nods, scratching awkwardly behind his ear. “I don’t know what’s troubling you, Emma,” he tells her, and her eyes snap to his at the sound of her name falling from his lips. “But I can’t bring myself to leave you alone out here. I’ll step away,” he promises, gesturing back towards the thick brush. “But I won’t stray far should you need help.”

She wants to roll her eyes. He’s seriously going to go stand somewhere where she can’t see him, ten feet away so she can have her breakdown privately while still protecting her? Why the fuck would he do that? Because he cares about you. He nods again, taking her silence as permission and stepping back to leave her be, but she stops him.

“Do you have your flask with you?” she asks.

He reaches into his pocket and retrieves it. “Shall I leave it with you?”

She rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to go, Hook,” she says and he looks wary. “I’m over it. I just… had a moment.” 

“Hmm,” he agrees. “Neverland will do that to you.” 

She scoffs, glaring at him, pissed off now. “It wasn’t Neverland that did it to me,” she snaps and he frowns. “It was you. You and Neal and your stupid fight. Both of you, risking your life like idiots, like children!” He looks taken aback, searching for words as shame washes over his features again.

“Swan, I’m sorry. We -”

“Did you even mean what you said?” she demands then and he frowns in confusion. 

“What I said?” 

“All of it. About winning my heart, about moving on from Milah, about wanting me to choose you. All of it.” 

His face grows serious then. “Yes.” 

“Then how the hell could you do that? How can you make promises that imply you sticking around and then just be so goddamn callous with your life?”

“I’m sorry, love, I -”

“Stop apologizing!” she barks. His head snaps back like she slapped him and she stands there, panting and glaring at him. He studies her for a moment then steps forward. 

“No.”

“No?” she demands incredulously.

“No. You’re right. It was reckless and stupid and childish. I know how much you’ve lost and I’m sorry if I made you fear losing more. Whatever this is, Emma,” he says, using her name again as he gestures between them, “whatever it is you do or don’t want from me, I meant what I said in Echo Cave. I meant what I said to you today. I’m not going anywhere. Not until you send me away. And I’m sorry if I made you doubt my intentions.” 

“Stop,” she says, unable to hear more. Every word he says makes her hope and every moment she hopes is another moment closer to heartbreak. She can’t let herself care for him. She can’t let herself fall for him. What chance do they have? Her parents would fight her every step of the way, Neal would fight her. And he’ll leave. Just like everyone leaves. Everyone always leaves. 

“Swan,” he says, stepping towards her again. His hand comes up to cradle her jaw, thumb brushing against her cheek as he tilts her chin up to face him. 

“Don’t,” she warns again, tears burning her eyes now.

“Is that so hard for you to believe? That someone would want to stay? That I-”

“Stop,” she says again, giving him no choice this time, pulling him to her and stealing whatever words might have fallen from his lips with her own.

She kisses him until a small groan rumbles deep in his throat, reverberating through her and sending tremors of desire coursing through every inch of her body. She can’t let him in. She can’t let him say whatever it was he was going to say. But this, this she can do. She needs this, him. Nothing else calms and excites her all at once like this. Nothing else stops everything like this. 

His hand leaves her cheek, tangling in her hair, fisting in it and tugging as he opens her mouth under his. Her hands leave his face, sliding down his neck to his chest to the clasps of his vest. He breaks apart from her as she undoes the first one, looking down at her hands and then back at her with heavy lidded eyes. There’s a question there, a request or a plea. 

She answers by undoing the next clasp and he drags her back to him, tongue delving, seeking, teeth nipping at her lips as he guides her backwards until her back collides softly but urgently with a tree. By then she has his vest undone and she pushes it off, shoving his jacket down with it where it falls heavily onto the jungle floor. 

She finds his shirt next, not bothering with the few buttons as she pulls it from his pants and lifts the shirt over his head. He releases her long enough to lift his arms and help her to pull it free from his hook. She traces her fingers along his forearms, marveling at the sinewy muscles and dark hair under her hands, hesitating a moment over his tattoo. 

She follows the path to his biceps, to his shoulders, tracing the intricacies of his brace on one side, and the defined shape of his obvious strength on the other. She realises she’s never seen his arms before. His chest is always on full display but the rest of him is always covered head to toe in leather, in armour. She traces along his sides next, over his ribs where she notices another tattoo: ‘Liam’ written out in small, elegant script. 

She looks at him, so much of him on display beneath her hands. He’s so goddamn beautiful and it sends an ache tugging low in her belly. As she draws her gaze up his neck and jaw to his face, she finds him watching her, something curious and tender beneath the desire. She kisses him again so she doesn’t have to see it. This isn’t what this is. 

He takes the hint, hook snaking into her belt loop to pull her hips firmly against his as his hot and calloused hand slides up under her shirt, over her stomach to her breast. She keens when he presses his palm against her, dragging over her slowly, filling his hand before his fingers find her nipple through her bra. 

She pushes him back a little, almost smirking at his surprised expression before pulling her shirt over her head, reaching behind her to undo her bra and let it fall somewhere at her feet. She reaches for him but he steps back, eyes raking over her slowly and intently and goosebumps raise everywhere that his eyes burn over her. 

“Bloody hell,” he breathes. 

“You gonna do something about it?” she challenges, and then he’s on her, lips attacking her neck, causing her to cry out as he sucks a mark into the hollow of her collarbone, dragging his tongue down her chest to her breast. He takes a nipple into his mouth, rolling it under his tongue and his teeth and she fists her hand in his hair so tight that she thinks it might hurt. His strangled moan makes her think he doesn’t care. 

He moves to her neglected breast, giving it the same treatment before nipping and licking and sucking his way down her ribs and her stomach to her navel and to the waist of her jeans as he kneels before her. He doesn’t ask for permission this time, the way she pushes her hips against him clear enough as he makes quick work of them, sliding them down her legs and pulling them off along with her boots. 

He looks up at her, toying idly with the waist of her panties, and it’s the hottest fucking thing she’s ever seen. Killian Jones, Captain Hook, shirtless with his hair a mess, kneeling between her legs and watching her like he wants to devour her. Then he smirks, eyebrow twitching up as he leans forward, holding her gaze as he presses an open mouthed kiss to her covered clit. Nevermind, that’s the hottest thing she’s ever seen. 

“Killian,” she begs, shocking them both as his name falls from her lips. Something flashes in his eyes then and suddenly he’s yanking the fabric off of her and pulling her leg over his shoulder. Fuck. Fuck yes, is all she can think. But… “We don’t have time,” she tells him, knowing that the others could wake up at any moment, that Pan or a lost boy could stumble upon them. 

He glances up at her with a smile that she can only describe as devilish. “There is always time, Swan,” he insists. Before she can protest or agree, his tongue is dragging through her folds, licking her slowly until he reaches her clit and pulls it into his mouth. 

“Fuck!” she practically yells, head falling back as she fists her hands in his hair. She can feel him smirking against her but she doesn’t care because his tongue is flicking against her clit now, slowly, meticulously, and then quicker as she starts to roll her hips against his talented mouth. 

He alternates flicking his tongue against her and sucking on her sensitive bundle as his fingers find her opening and push in roughly, pumping into her hard and fast. One of her hands finds his shoulder, steading herself against him, nails digging into his flesh, and he drives her to her climax so goddamn fast that she barely registers she’s almost there until she’s right at the brink. 

She’s gasping, muttering incoherent yeses and pleas, when he suddenly pulls away and stands and she wants to scream. But before she can, he’s freeing himself from his leathers and pulling her knee up over his hip, sliding into her easily despite his impressive size. 

Her fingers link behind his neck, her head thrown back against the bark behind her as he thrusts up into her purposefully, each stroke powerful and just the right side of rough. She’s forced to stand on her toes, foot nearly lifted off the ground as he drives into her, but she doesn’t want him to stop. Fuck, she’s never going to be able to stop. Not now that she knows this is what it’s like to be with him. 

His head falls to her shoulder, lips and teeth finding her neck as he moves faster and she knows he’s close, can hear it in the desperate sounds he’s breathing against her skin. She’s nearly there, she just needs… He pulls her thigh higher over his hip, hand finding her ass and pressing her closer until he’s grinding against her clit with every push inside of her and that’s it. 

Her back arches and her head falls back as she screams out her climax into the quiet of the jungle. He looks up at her, watching her fall apart, brows pinched in blissful anguish as he sets a breakneck pace, seeking his own release. She fists her hands into his hair, tugging and watching as his face becomes almost pained before she captures his lips with hers, biting at his lips, sucking at his tongue until she swallows his moan as it reverberates through her chest and he goes rigid. 

She can feel him finishing hot inside her and it sends another little quiver of pleasure through her, her muscles contracting around him and he groans, sliding his tongue into her mouth and seeking her own. 

They stay there, pressed against the tree, panting into each other’s mouths, seeking whatever they can find in one another until the sweat begins to cool on her body and a shiver runs through her, bringing her back to reality. He seems to sense the change because he’s the one to break the kiss first.

She just looks at him, unable to process any of her thoughts. She doesn’t know what this means. She doesn’t know what she wants it to mean. The thought that it could mean anything at all is terrifying to her. But a part of her knows she’ll find herself here again. But this is all it can be. 

She can’t risk it. Can’t risk him. She’s damaged goods and she’ll hurt him or he’ll hurt her because… she cares. Fuck. She cares. There’s nothing more dangerous or terrifying to her than getting her heart involved. If she has to choose - and she does have to choose - the one where her heart isn’t on the line is the only safe option. 

Neal could never break her heart. Not again. She’d have to be able to give it to him first for that. 

She tenses in his arms, hands sliding from his shoulders to curl into her chest and she tries to make some room between them. She can’t look at him but it’s like he can read her mind, his eyes casting over her face as she makes her decision. Open book he’s always said.

He lets out a soft sigh of a laugh, self-deprecating and accepting as he slides out of her and pulls back, allowing her room to dress as he pulls his pants back up his hips. She knows he thinks she regrets it. She wishes she could tell him she doesn’t. But she can’t give him hope. And he wouldn’t believe her if she did, not while she’s practically recoiling from his touch. 

“So you’ve made your choice then?” he asks, but it’s not really a question.

“Killian…” 

“Don’t call me that,” he says, shaking his head and it feels like a knife twisting in her heart. 

“I-” 

“You don’t have to explain, Swan,” he says. “He’s Henry’s father. He’s a better man.” 

She wants to scream at him, tell him that he’s wrong, but that would mean facing whatever it is that’s happened between them, whatever it was that started on that beanstalk and led them here, and she can’t do that. 

He watches her for another moment, the pain and the self-loathing written all over his face before he slides his mask of indifference right back up and it hurts to see. It's the one he wore in New York and in Storybrooke after she betrayed him. She supposes this isn’t much different. 

He gathers the rest of his clothes, nodding at her once before heading off into the jungle. “Don’t stay out here alone,” he says over his shoulder, and a tear runs hot down her cheek. He may hate her right now, but he’s still watching out for her. 

 ***

 They defeat Pan. They save Henry. She still can’t believe it. But they’re sailing back to Storybrooke and her son is sleeping soundly down below in Killian’s cabin. She frowns. She wonders when she started thinking of him as Killian. Probably when you realised how you felt about him, probably right before you broke his heart. 

She’s staring out at the sky below them, leaning on the railing and she lets her head fall over her arms. When did everything get so complicated? She feels so lost. She wishes she had someone to help her, someone to guide her. She wishes she had Mary Margaret, her friend, but that woman is gone. In her place is Snow White, her mother. Someone who should understand her but doesn’t. 

It’s Snow who finds her, places a comforting hand on her shoulder and gives her a supportive smile when she looks up. 

“Are you alright?” she asks. Emma shakes her head, too tired to lie, and her mom gives her a sad look. “Emma…” she starts, and she braces herself for whatever speech is about to come. “I know that love can be scary. And after all you’ve been through, I don’t blame you for being afraid of it. That’s my fault,” she says and Emma wants to say no - well, yes, but not just her fault. 

“But if you think that everyone that cares about you and who you let yourself care about is going to hurt you, if you don’t let yourself try and open up to the possibility… you might keep out pain, but you’ll also keep out love,” she finishes, parroting her words from so long ago and for a moment, Emma feels like she has her friend back, like Mary Margaret understands her. 

“You owe it to yourself to give Neal a chance,” she says, and it’s like a bucket of ice water falling over her. “I know what you said, about it being easier to forget about the pain and to move on with him out of your life. But he’s your first love; he’s Henry’s father. Don’t you think he deserves a second chance? Don’t you think Henry does, that you do?” 

Tears well in Emma’s eyes and her mother misreads them, assuming she’s hit the mark. She couldn’t be more wrong. But she’s right. Choosing Neal is easier. It's what everyone wants. It’s what everyone expects. It's the easiest way to make everyone she cares about happy. Even if it’s at the cost of her own happiness. Of Killian’s happiness. Her heart burns in her chest.

She wonders where Killian is. They’ve barely spoken since their moment in the jungle. He hadn’t been cruel or even angry, of course he hadn’t. But he’d been distant, keeping himself at arms length. She understands that, self-preservation and all. She’s been doing the same. She hears footsteps and looks up to see Neal walking towards them. Mary Margaret gives her an encouraging smile before disappearing below deck. 

Neal leans against the railing next to her. “We did it,” he says, a big, satisfied smile on his face. “We got our kid back. We got our family back,” he says and the word is loaded. 

“Yeah,” she nods, forces a smile. Neal could never tell the difference between her real ones and her fake ones. “We did.” 

He nudges her shoulder with his and she laughs. They did get their son back. That’s the silver lining to this. That’s what she should be focused on. “Emma, listen,” he says then. “I meant what I said. I’ll never stop fighting for you.” His words twist in her gut but she doesn’t let it show. “And now that everyone’s okay, that it’s all over and everything is behind us… maybe we could try again.” Everything is behind us. Just like that he’s wiping his slate clean of any wrongs he’s done her. 

“Neal, I-” 

“I know I hurt you, Emma. But I had to. You know I did. And we have Henry to think about too. Do you think there’s anything he’d want more than for his parents to get back together? Don’t you think we ought to try? For him?” Her fist clenches against the railing but he takes it in his. “I’m just asking for a chance, Ems.” 

She considers him, thinks of Henry. “Okay,” she says. “Okay.” 

He beams, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it, then, before she even knows what’s happening, he’s leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. It’s familiar, slow and practiced and it brings a slew of painful memories rushing back to the surface. He pulls back with a pleased smile and she forces one back. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” he asks and she nods. As she watches him walk away, she knows one thing for sure. There’s definitely no risk with Neal. He could never break her heart. She could never give it to him. 

She brings her fingers to her lips, still feeling his kiss and his scruff burning against her chin and it just feels… wrong. It leaves an ache in her, an emptiness and a need, a craving for something else and her whole body hums with it, burns with it. It’s wrong. It’s wrong. It’s wrong. It’s wrong. She needs to make it right, to set it right. 

She walks almost blindly through the ship's lower deck, making her way past the crew’s quarters where everyone sleeps, past the captain’s cabin where Regina is watching over a sleeping Henry, past the galley and the storage and every other room she doesn’t recognize until she reaches the back, the bosun’s quarters where she knows she’ll find him. 

She pushes the door open, not bothering to knock and he sits up where he was lounging on the narrow mattress, book balanced on his knee. He’s discarded his coat and his vest, his suspenders hanging at his sides. “Swan?” he asks, a frown marrying his brow. “What’s wrong?” 

She doesn’t speak. She just crosses the room to the bed, shoving the book out of his hands and climbing over him, straddling his hips as she pulls his lips to hers, hands finding his shoulders as she uses his shock to push him back against the pillows. 

“Swan,” he breathes against her mouth. “What are you -” She stops his words with her lips again, sliding her tongue into his mouth until she can pull that groan that she loves so much from his chest. “Emma,” he tries again, weaker this time and a little desperate. 

She shakes her head, kissing him again, biting his lip, pulling at it, teasing him with her tongue until he breaks, sitting up and kissing her back, taking control as he tilts her head this way and that, arm sliding around her hips to set her more firmly in his lap. Yes. This is what she needed. The press of his lips, the scratch of his stubble, it feels right. And she knows she can’t have it, not really, but she can have tonight. She can have one last night. 

She feels him stirring beneath her and she grinds her hips down over his to encourage him. It works, his lips dropping to her neck, sliding her shirt easily over her head and taking her breast in his mouth like he already knows she likes. God, he’s perfect. Perfect in that he’s not. In that he knows he’s not. That he doesn’t pretend to be. He knows her. He understands her. And she knows she’s going to break his heart. 

She stops him as his hand begins to trail down to her jeans, pushing against his shoulders until he lays back. She pulls his shirt open, not caring about the few buttons that she sends flying across the floor as her lips latch onto his neck, desperately trying to find the spots that make him let out those sounds she can’t get enough of. 

When he’s practically writhing beneath her, she trails kisses down the center of his chest, glancing up at him as he watches her, her lips teasing their way down to the waist of his pants where he’s already straining against the laces. She can see the head of his cock just peeking out and she draws her tongue over him. He hisses, hips pressing up involuntarily towards her. 

She makes quick work of his laces, shoving his pants far enough down his hips that she can free him from them and take him in hand. He gasps out her name and it spurs her on, knowing how much he wants her. She’s glad when he doesn’t protest, only watches her as she drags her tongue slowly up the length of him before taking him fully into her mouth. 

His back arches, his hook reaching up to find purchase on the headboard as his hand tangles in her hair. The sounds he makes as she works him with her lips and tongue send heat straight to her core, making her slick and desperate as she tries to rub her thighs together and find some relief. He lets out a litany of sighs and moans and words, both praise and filth as she drives him towards his release. 

Before she can, he uses his hold on her hair to pull her off of him, to slide her back up his body to face him where he looks at her like he can’t quite believe she’s real. He reaches for her pants, undoing them and pushing them down her hips. She rolls onto her back beside him so that she can work them off and his mouth finds her breast, tongue pulling at her already hardened nipple and making her gasp. 

As soon as she’s free of her jeans, she rolls back on top of him, taking his cock in hand and sinking down onto him. They both hold still for a moment, adjusting to the feel of him inside her, to how fucking perfectly he fits. Fuck, she’s going to miss this. 

He lets out another moan as she starts to ride him, head falling back against the pillows. She’s never seen him quite like this, so lost in his bliss, so out of control, and god it makes her want him even more. She braces herself on his shoulders, moving over him faster, hips snapping against his, and he looks at her like she might just destroy him.

His hand grabs hold of her hip, pulling her down harder against him as his own hips lift up to meet her with every thrust. She can’t believe how close she is. He’s barely touched her. But with every roll of her hips over his, every time she feels him fill her up again and again, she feels like she’s on fire and she just wants to keep burning. 

“Fuck, Emma,” he curses, his brow pinched tight, the chords of his neck stretched taunt. “Emma I’m going to -” he tries to warn her but she only rides him harder, desperate to get him there first. Her nails dig into his chest as she tries to hold off as long as she can and she sees the moment he breaks. It’s the most fucking amazing thing she’s ever seen and it sends her over the edge, collapsing over top of him as they both struggle to catch their breath. 

His fingers trail over her spine, his head tilting down to kiss the skin of her shoulder, turning to press another to her temple. God, she wants to just stay here with him, to let him keep tracing patterns over her back, to let him keep kissing whatever parts of her he can reach, to let him just hold her here as long as she needs. But that’s exactly why she can’t. 

“Emma,” he says softly, a little hopefully and she rises, getting off of him and standing, pulling her jeans and shirt back on, not bothering to look for her underwear because that would take too long. “Emma,” he says again and she makes herself look at him, makes herself face the hurt she’s causing him. It’s better this way. They’ll only hurt each other in the long run if they keep this up. “So, it’s still Neal then,” he says finally. 

She nods. “It has to be.” 

“And this was what?” he asks, an edge of anger in his voice. “Goodbye? One last fuck with the pirate before you go back to the man you’re making yourself choose? The one you’re settling for?” 

Tears burn her eyes. “Killian...” 

“I told you not to call me that,” he says, bitterness in his tone. “It’s Hook you want.” But he’s wrong, and that’s exactly the problem. It is Killian she wants, the man he might be, the man he is, the man she wants too much to trust herself with. 

“Goodbye,” she says, backing away towards the door. “I’m sorry.”

***

@kmomof4 @snowbellewells @teamhook @resident-of-storybrooke @stahlop @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @gingerchangeling @bubblegum1425 @jackieorioncat @darkcolinodonorgasm @xhookswenchx @lfh1226-linda @searchingwardrobes @winterbaby89 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @xsajx @thejollyroger-writer @elizabeethan @carpedzem @spartanguard @tiganasummertree @demisexualemmaswan @itsfabianadocarmo @courtorderedcake @yasbio2015 @the-darkdragonfly @klynn-stormz

[johnkrrasinski]

Into It;

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 1,485

Warning: SMUT. sexy times, cuss words, fluff. 

Summary: a casual sunday afternoon spent with your favorite super soldier who just couldn’t resist you no matter how hard he tries. 

a/n: another sexy bucky fanfic that i thought about whilst trying to take a nap on a sunday afternoon. please leave a like & comment. enjoy!

The midafternoon sun permeated through the drawn curtains of your room in the Avenger’s compound on another archetypal Sunday. It was a day where everyone in the team could just sleep in until noon, lounge around in the common and do their own thing without care.

Well, not too careless though, since you were still The Avengers after all, and the world doesn’t believe in the concept of ‘weekends are days off’ when miscreants have made up their minds about committing their evil plan and living in a building designed to keep all the on-watch heroes together so they’d be ready whenever the alarm of emergency goes off, you constantly had to sleep with one eye open at night.

Even if when you were simply taking forty winks.

But not today. Today, you only left the coziness of your bed to shower, eat some breakfast and fetch a few snacks and occasionally used the loo. The rest was spent with you cuddled up with Bucky in nothing but your underwear separating your skin from each other. Bucky would regularly go for his early morning run but not on Sundays. Sundays were for him and you. And he wasn’t going to waste a goddamn second with you when the chaos strikes once more tomorrow. Sundays were too precious.

You had been watching sitcoms all day that you hadn’t had the chance to finish it due to incessant missions and paperwork. The superhero life doesn’t exactly reward you a protracted repose despite the number of lives you had saved. So when you were granted the opportunity to watch Brooklyn 99 with the love of your life who was just as fatigued as you were, you were going to savour every second of it.

Things were going languid up until you turned on another side as Bucky spooned you from behind. Bucky’s hunger for you wouldn't allow him to stay still for a second without him getting an erection. What can you say? He just really had a thing for your ass. When your eyes were fixated on the screen, Bucky began peppering your neck and your shoulder with kisses.

Since you were only clad in nothing but your underwear, it didn’t make it difficult for him to graze his fingers along your waistline to your hip, and then he moved his hand to between your thighs as you part them slightly to permit him more access to your most sensitive part.

He inserted his fingers into your panties as he collected the wetness that was already gathering there since the moment he pressed his lips to your neck. You threw your head back to his shoulder as he carried on his pampers on your neck to your shoulder. He motioned his fingers in a circle on your clit, causing your head to spin. His touch always left you breathless and you always ended up craving for more.

“Oh, Bucky…” You bit your lip.

“So wet for me, baby.”

His motion grew hastier to get you off as he sensed your impending climax. You shut your eyes trying to relish the pleasure as you moaned for his name. You were so damn close and with a few more circles, you crumbled. Your release soaked your cotton underwear along with Bucky’s fingers that were still on your clit until you were thoroughly spent.  

He retrieved his hand out of your panties and sucked on his fingers that you made a mess off. He tasted you as if he was licking his favourite sweetened cocoa spread sticking on them. You were still panting when you felt him pulling down your underwear and threw them onto the floor. You were still lying on your side when you felt the nudge of his head on your entrance as he quickly penetrated you.

It knocked the breath off your lungs when he was fully seated. His grip on your hip was riveted as he stayed still to let you adjust to his girth inside you. When you ground your arse against him, he instantly got the clue that you wanted him to move. He then complied, fulfilling your desire as he began rutting his into you steadily. He took his time, pleasuring you at a settled pace. It wasn’t lust-driven or a poignant need, it was simply you and him, making love on a dawdling day off; there’s no rush, there’s no agony, it was just you and him exploring each other’s body.

You turned your head to the side to gaze at his handsome face. The short strands of his hair and the neat stubble covering his entire jaw made him look more dashing under the faint afternoon glow. You were always so charmed by Bucky’s looks even before he cut his hair and trimmed his beard. You were allured by his gentle demeanour and his mysterious haze.

It wasn’t long until you felt your second release coming. Bucky accelerated his tempo as you felt the tightening coil in your belly. With only a few more thrusts and the bubble inside you erupted. It was more intense than the previous one and you were drowned in bliss. Bucky extended his thrusts, prolonging your orgasm until he reached his own.

He growled as he was lost in his own euphoria. He rested his head on the side of yours as he held you close in the same position whilst still being inside you until every drop of his cum was stored. He’d never admit it out loud but he loved it when he released deep inside you. He loved the sight of a part of him dripping on your thighs.

You turned your head once more to look at him as he kissed you deeply, the fervour on his lips was palpable. Your tongues tangled with each other’s as his hand that was grappling to your hip moved to your jaw to guide your mouth to have more control over it. You kept devouring each other until you were running out of air.

Bucky’s breath felt like a breeze on your face as he lovingly gazed into your striking eyes, as he once declared. For a moment there, there wasn’t a single word exchanged, it was simply the abounding love that you had for each other and it was more than any word could express.

“You never fail to amaze me, doll.”

You bit your lip at his praise. “I could say the same, soldier.”

“Think we should go back to the show. Captain Holt’s going to start with his boring facts again.” He withdrew himself away from you and laid back on his side of the bed. His eyes were now on the screen presenting Jake Peralta’s comical personality that contrasted with Captain Holt’s deadpan face. It always elicited a chuckle from Bucky.

You sat up and budged to Bucky’s hip, making yourself a comfortable seat. “…or we can go back to our own festive. It’s a lot more fun than listening to Captain Holt’s boring facts.” You repeated his words to playfully tease him while also trying to seduce him.

“Hmm… I don’t know, I kinda like Captain Holt’s boring facts and it’s interesting to hear him talk about the population rate of Philadelphia.”

“Oh really? So it’s more interesting than this, huh?” You climbed down his body to lay on your front between his legs and you began stroking his shaft then proceeded to swirling your tongue around it like a goddamn chocolate chip ice cream on a sizzling summer day. You loved the look on his face when he lost himself in pleasure. The pleasure that you bestowed on him.

“Fuck yeah, baby, just like that.” You kept sucking him up and down until he was zoned out enough in eroticism and you retrieved. The shift on his face nearly cracked you up, to say he was disappointed was an understatement. It was unmistakable that he wanted you to keep going.  

“Why’d you stop?”

“Well, you said that Captain Holt’s facts were more interesting than our copulation so maybe you should go back to the show and just let me be.”

“Fuck no baby, I didn’t mean that.”

“You gotta do better than that, Barnes.”

“Please, baby? I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”  

“Any-fucking-thing. What wouldn’t I do for you, doll?”

His pleading face was too adorable to resist and you were planning to return the favour before he begged anyway, so you returned to your previous spot as you pushed him down the bed. He was looking at you with so much eagerness and you couldn’t wait to watch the look on his face when he was about to ejaculate deep within your mouth, quenching your thirst of him.

The day was still long and you were keen to spend the rest of it stimulating one another, defiling the immaculacy of your pristine white sheets.

Man, you really did love Sundays.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day five of Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt was monsters!

Little brat’s been in the school ten minutes after the bell.

After they both broke curfew, Max staying out late trick-or-treating and going to one of her little friends’ house to trade candy, and Billy crashing at the lingering party until he was sober enough to come home and not get his ass kicked, they were supposed to be straight home today. Used up all their free time for the week apparently.

Max knew that this morning, he already told her to forget about the damn AV club. If he had to cancel on whatever chick he was going to take out (was it Carol? No, Carol is Tommy’s girl. Fuck he doesn’t know anybody yet) Max had to give her shit up to.

He gets bored of waiting for the little twerp and tosses his cigarette to the ground, marching in there his damn self.

Only time he’s ever been in this building was to pick Max up from AV. His dad made him come all the way inside and give his assessment on the teacher. Asked (slapped him and demanded it) that he do so to check on Max. Just to be sure. Like he cares.

But it works out anyways that he knows the way now that Max has decided to disappear and it’s up to him to track her down. Only problem is he gets there, and the room is empty. Not even just that Max isn’t in there, there’s no damn kids or teacher or nothing. Just a knocked over lamp and some shit on the floor.

He ain’t trying to hunt her down, but he has to get her back home in like, the next half-hour, and she’s somewhere she ain’t supposed to be. The school isn’t very big, half the damn building is closed off for the school board to use, so there isn’t much ground to cover.

He’s not trying to get himself arrested either, so he makes quick work of the school, checking all the places Max might be. Still, he comes up empty, and he’s about to just give up and let whoever she was with keep her when he sees something scurrying across the floor out of the corner of his eye.

It’s not really any of his business whether or not the middle school is infested, but it catches his eye for the wrong reasons.

It’s a gnarly little thing, a cross between a frog and rat or some shit, but Billy’d recognize that thing anywhere. It’s a fucking monster, crawling around the halls of his sisters school.

Purely on instinct, he tracks the thing to where it cornered itself, taking advantage of the fact that it’s still small and growing into its demon teeth to stomp on the gross monster. He stops once he’s positive it’s dead and not just faking him out like they do sometimes, he’s not gross or something, but he nearly jumps out of his skin when behind him, Max shouts, “Billy!”

He turns, ignoring the pile of goop that was one of those things to face his, apparently, from the flush on her cheeks and the bitterness in her tone, “Jesus, shitbird. What is wrong with you?”

He’s hardly even got the question out before Max snaps at him, “Why would you kill it!”

“Do you even know what that thing is?” Billy raises eyebrows, no patience for Max telling him what to do, but she counters with something that surprises him, “It was Dustins, he discovered it, you jerk!”

“Yeah, no. These things’ve been around longer’n any of us have been alive. And I don't care who found it first. They’re fucking monsters.”

“How do you even know what he was? You killed him.”

“It. Not him. Don’t humanize them.” Billy hisses, warning Max, “And anyways, I seen some shit kid. Don’t ask. And don’t play around with anymore of these little fuckers. Give ‘im a day or two ‘n he’ll be the size of a gray wolf. Another month or so and he’s seven feet tall.”

“But what is he?” Max demands stubbornly.

Billy answers simply, “Something you don’t want anything to do with.”

By now, the rest of Max’s friends have followed the sound of her yelling to their little showdown, and it’s Dustin, the owner of this thing, that chimes in, “But wait, does that mean you know?”

“Know what?” Max huffs, but she gets ignored, Billy firing back at Dustin, “Do you?”

All four of the kids nod at once. Billy sighs deeply, “Jesus, how the fuck did a bunch of little kids get caught up in this bullshit?”

“How did you?” These kids aren’t very original coming back at him with his own questions like this.

Again Max interjects, being left out of the questioning just making her more confused. “Excuse me, but what exactly are we talking about?”

But again nobody acknowledges her, Billy busy answering the boys’ questions.

“Had a friend came from that lab. You know about that part too?” He clarifies, getting three attentive nods, and this time one disapproving scowl, as he explains, “Well the monsters followed ‘im. Through their portals and his head and shit, they were out in California too. That’s how I know I was right to kill that thing.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence before Mike insists, “I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t know, man. How else would he know about everything?” Lucas shrugs, exciting Dustin and promoting him to ask, “Do you think he knows about Eleven too?”

“I’m still here too you guys. What is going on?” Max interrupts, serving only as a reminder, Lucas turning the conversation back to Billy as he asks, “Why haven’t you told Max?”

Billy smugly tries their little deflecting shtick on them, “Could ask you the same. Why are you showing her the monsters if you ain’t gonna tell her jack about ‘em either? I was keeping her safe. You assholes were keeping her stupid.”

Max interjects, “Hey!”

“No, that’s not fair. We had to sign an NDA.” Dustin corrects, very matter of fact for a kid who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Yeah, me too kid. It wasn’t any secret that number six escaped. I’ve had those assholes watchin’ over my shoulder for years and I didn’t even do anythin’.” Billy feels like he’s having a trauma competition with a bunch of middle schoolers, and he hates it. His tone is harsh as he demands, “Which brings us into, what the hell did you do to get caught up in all this?”

“None of your business.” Mike spits, but for the first time in the conversation, Will chimes in, “I got taken. By the demogorgon.”

“Okay. What’s that got to do with this, kid?”

“The demogorgon is what we called the big one. Before El killed it.” Lucas explains.

“Look, I don’t know who El is, but believe me when I tell you, you brats don’t know nothing. There ain’t just one of those, you know. Every last one of those annoying little fuckers like the one I just squished’ll turned into a ‘big one’.” They all look collectively defeated by that, maybe because he knows more than they do, or maybe just because they didn’t want to admit it was that bad.

But none look more ghastly than Will, who barely manages to inform them, “That’s bad. Last night, I heard them while we were trick-or-treating. They were everywhere.”

“Then we’re gonna have to do something.” Dustin declares determinedly, but Billy shuts it down right away, “No. Seriously, what the hell? All you sorry little punks are going right the fuck back home and pretending none of this never happened. If you don’t provoke ‘em, they’ll stop.”

“But they weren’t provoked when they took Will.” One of then argues, but Billys ignoring them now, turning back to a no less calm Max, “I don’t care. I ain’t doing this shit all over again. Come on, Maxine. Gotta leave your little friends to their baby ‘demogorgon’ and their world saving bullshit.”

Max scrunches her face up and argues, “Um, did you forget that I still have no idea what the hell is going on?!”

“Honestly, yeah.” Billy admits, “But s’better if you don’t ask questions. Now if you please, we gotta go.”

“No. You’re being a jerk.” Max crosses her arms and glares at him, a clear sign shes refusing to leave with him.

Billy just shrugs, “M’always a jerk. Thought you’d know that by now.”

“I do. And that’s exactly why I’m not listening to you. If my friends are going to do something, I want in on it.”

“Look what you little fuckers did.” Billy grumbles at the boys before trying to reason with his sister again, “Max. We only got fifteen minutes out of an almost half hour drive to get home. Come on.”

“This is so much bigger than that! I don’t care what your stupid dad says, I want to do something!” Her attitude gets on Billy’s nerves. That’s definitely deliberate if the spite gleaming in her cold eyes is any indication.

“You don’t even know what it is!”

“Then I deserve to find out!”

Billy sighs deeply, done doing this with a bunch of little kids in over their heads, “You know what, fine, but we’re stoppin’ at a payphone and you’re gonna be the one to tell my old man I’m takin’ you out for.. I don’t know, fucking ice cream or some shit. And if we get in trouble, I’m blaming you. Deal?”

Max smiles to herself at having gotten one over on him, “Deal. Where are we going though?”

“I dunno. Ask your nerds. S’their big fucking idea.” Billy grumbles, matching Max’s bitterness.

“We’ll have to call a meeting.”

“Will my basement work?”

“No offense, but I don’t think he’s getting past your mom.” Dustin nods towards Billy, the older boy rolling his eyes even though he’s not wrong, then offers, “My mom doesn’t like visitors. Maybe Will’s?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Byers will let anybody come over.”

“And she already knows what’s going on.”

They all nod again, and Billy rolls his eyes at them again while Lucas relays their decision to Max, “Alright, meet us at Will’s in an hour.”

“Why that long though? We’re all here right now.”

“Gives us time to cover our tracks, shitbird.” Billy hums in response to Max, stepping forward and asking, “What’s the damn address?”

This ‘meeting’ the twerps called was pretty much everyone in this hick town that knows the same dirty little secret as he does getting together in a tiny house and panicking. Billy and Max get fully interrogated like, a dozen times, once by the damned chief of police himself, all the while everyone is coming up with theories and plots and arguing. So much fucking arguing among this lot.

It gets to be too much pretty quickly, day five in this place and he’s already having to jump back into some of the worst things that ever happened to him. None of these people realize how big this is. Especially not the kids who just think it’s badass to fight monsters.

He leaves without telling anyone, or without anyone noticing among the chaos, to the back porch to light one up. There’re ashtrays all over the house he could use, but looming smoke in that cramped little kitchen wasn’t going to be any better than watching it curl upwards to the stars. So outside it was.

He leans against the wall, gaze fixing straight to what’s above him. He doesn’t notice the presence of another person until he hears them speak, startling slightly at the sound of a voice breaking the calm silence of a humid November night.

It’s Steve, sitting on a rusty and banged up glider at the opposite end on the porch, lit up just like he is. “So, uh. I guess you’re a part of this now?”

“I guess I am.”

Steve just nods and responds simply, effectively ending the conversation, “Right.”

But that’s not satisfying to Billy. He might appreciate peace more than what’s going on in that house, but he doesn’t like empty silence either. “What’re we all awkward like this for, Harrington? Spit out what you’re thinkin’.”

“I dunno, man.”

Billy frowns, prompting, “Come on. I know them gears are turnin’ over there. You've been quiet since we all got here.”

Steve looks away from him, but he does answer, “I dunno it’s just.. We’ve lost so much. People died because of this. People I knew. And I don’t like that anyone else is involved I guess.”

Billy scoffs, “Even me? You don’t even know me other than the asshole you met at the party last night.”

“So? What do you mean even you? I don’t want anyone anywhere near those fucking monsters. Could be my worst enemy and I’d still save them. I’d protect anyone from those things.” The haunted look behind his eyes, which seem so tired the longer Billy looks, tells Billy everything he needs to know.

He doesn’t mean to sound so soft when he asks, “What makes you so confident you can? Save ‘em I mean.”

“I fought a demogorgon myself. Well, not really by myself. Nancy and Jonathan were there. But I took a nail bat to its fucking face. Like hell I’d just let one of those things get anyone. Even you.” Steve

Billy flicks away his burnt out cigarette, sitting next to Steve on the old glider. “That’s real touching H, but I ain’t letting nobody sacrifice themselves for me. Need I remind you I’ve fought these assholes too.”

“But you told the kids you didn’t. Said it was all your friend.” Steve looks at him, sort of doubtful, but Billy blows off the remark, “No shit Sherlock. I ain’t airing all my business to any nosy brats like them.”

“I get that, but.. “ Hesitantly, he clarifies, “Is.. your friend, you know, even real?”

Billy must look at him like he grew a second head, “Shit, man, you think I’m one of those freaky experiments? No way. ‘Course he was real.”

“Oh. You said ‘was.’ Does that mean...” Steve’s voice trails off, sparing him hearing the words out loud.

“Don’t know. He got caught about two years back. Haven’t heard from him since. They might’a brought ‘im back here, they might’a killed him. I dunno.” Billy shrugs, picking at his nails while he talks so he doesn’t have to acknowledge Steve, or the fact that he’s even admitting this shit to him, “That’s why we’re here in Hawkins though. Susan’s got family over in Hope and a little ways up by Indie, so I suggested Hawkins. Just to come see where he came from. Get some closure I guess.”

“Guess he was really important to you then?” Steve smiles softly, but Billy only sighs through his nose, “You got no idea, Harrington.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll meet someone like him again.” He offers.

Somehow that sentiment immediately sets Billy on edge though, something about his tone implying that he knows, knows him and six were more than just friends, and Billy really doesn’t want to face that kind of monster tonight. He snaps, suddenly defensive, “What the hell’s that s’posed to mean?”

Steve’s face falls a little, evidently surprised by how upset Billy is, and he tries to fix it, “Oh I just thought that, the way you talked about him- and you look so sad when you do- that he was, you know, special to you.”

“So what? You gonna leave me to the monsters or some shit for that?” Billy growls, quickly warranting more defense from Steve, “What? No way. No I.. I get it, Billy. I do. More than you probably think I do.”

Billy half nods, his shoulders untensing as he slowly recognizes Steve’s genuinity. He mumbles eventually, working through what he needs to in his head to be comfortable talking openly with him again, “Didn’t expect to be getting relationship counseling too. That your assignment on the team, mister romance expert?”

“Shut up. You’ve never seen me swing a bat before.”

“Oh believe me, I cannot wait to.”

Steve’s smile returns, something Billy is personally glad for, though he might not be ready for that realization yet. He bumps their shoulders together, to hold Billy's attention and let him know he’s genuine, “Still, in all seriousness man, I hope you can find someone else like that for you. I know it’s not really easy pickings around here.”

This time, Billy’s tone is light, his features soft and vulnerable for the boy next to him, for the way he makes him feel less weighed down, less alone in this, “You got no idea, Harrington.”