#those little fuckers have been in my brain for like ~18 months or so and dont seem to be going anywhere

[pierogipete]

[kicks down your door] hello I would like you to know I'm INCREDIBLY obsessed with KimPorsche, and I just binge-read all of in another life in like 3 days. (would have made it in 1 but! Exams!!) Anyway. Friend???

yes please!!! i am so consumed with kimporsche ahhh im so happy :D yes lets be friends 🥰🥰 i hope exams went well ❤️

[jyoongim]

Heyyy, it’s me again, the singer anon. Can I request an Alastor x Reader where she is sent by as a spy by Vox after our fav slithery boy failed? She’s really bubbly and friendly, but she eventually grows to care for everyone in the hotel but Vox owns her soul. She torn in between getting herself killed by him and not betraying anyone anymore, or continuing the job. She goes and confesses to Alastor, breaking down and thinking he’ll kill her, which she thinks would be best so she doesn’t have to betray anyone anymore. Just breaking down in tears telling him she doesn’t want to hurt anyone but Vox has her under a contract, begging him to kill her so she doesn’t have to. Just for Alastor to call her a good girl and ughhhh some possessive smut if you don’t mind? Sorry brain rots in my head and I’m in love with him, lol. Thank you! <3 also the three requests story set off the trigger in my head, loved it! Thanks again! <3!

This been in my inbox for weeks and i finally got a plot for it!

⚠️warning: 18+! Smut smut smut! Plot if you look hard enough!

—————————————————————————————

No one suspected a thing.

You were sent to the Hazbin Hotel after Sir Pentious miserable attempt.

Your orders were simple: ”Keep an eye out on that old fossil. I want to know why that fucker is sucking up the Lucifer’s daughter”

And you did just that…you were executing your mission flawlessly.

Until you began to care about those who stayed at the hotel.

Until you began to grow closer to the Radio Demon.

————————————————————————————

You had been staying at the hotel for a few months now and its been great!

Charlie was always finding new ways to help the residents build bonds and encouraging everyone to do their best.

At first, you were arrogant, playing along until you actually saw the the demons there were actually changing even if they didn’t admit it

But now, you thought of the princess as a friend, along with everyone else.

Especially Alastor.

Now that you’ve been around him, you’re not sure why Vox hate the demon so much.

Alastor was funny, kind (in his own twisted way), and truly looked after the hotel.

A soft smile curled on your lips as you thought about the demon, but the ringing of your phone interrupted such thoughts.

Vox.

You took a deep breath and answered “H-Hello?”

”Tonight’s your chance to take out that prick and after that come home” he demanded.

You blinked “what? B-but Vox…” you bit your lips “But it’s actually nice here. The hotel isn’t a scam…a-and everyone is a lot nicer than we thought ” Vox laughed “Oh baby please! Nice? You actually believe in that redemption crap? You think that they’ll let you stay if they knew why you truly were there? Hahaha! Oh my dumb little girl, how naive you are. ” 

You pouted, a frown on your face “I want to stay”

Vox growled through the phone “ah ah baby you don’t make demands remember?” 

Electrical shocks ran through your body from the collar you wore.

You gasped in pain “I OWN you. Did you forget that? You do whatever I say when I say it. Now I expect you home before morning or I will kill you.”

The phone call ended and you were in tears.

You didn’t want to go back. 

You liked being at the hotel and able to be yourself. 

You liked the friends you had made here.

You would do anything for them, even if you had to die to make your wrongs right.

————————————————————————

“Come in” the voice answered after you knocked on the door. You were sweating as you stood outside of Alastor’s door.

You had decided that if you were going to tell anyone why you were at the hotel, it would be Alastor.

You opened the door and walked into his radio studio.

”Hey Al” you said weakly as the demon spun around and smiled at you “Hello darlin! What do I owe the pleasure?”

You fiddled with your hands.

”I want to tell you why I came to the hotel”

Alastor quirked a eyebrow, smile widening as he gestured for you to take a seat on the couch.

”Do entertain me of your tale my dear”

You were in tears by the time you finished telling Alastor everything.

Of Vox and his plan.

The deal between you and Vox.

The reason you came to the hotel.

Everything.

”I-I’m sorry! So so sorry! I-I just didn’t know what to do!

Kill me! I deserve it! J-Just let me say my goodbyes first. I would rather you kill me than Vox! Please!” You cried, hands covering your face as you sobbed.

Alastor had been quiet for the entirety of your confession. He had half a mind to kill you when you told him of your deal with Vox.

The pesky television didn’t know when to mind his business.

His eyes focused on the collar around your neck.

 You were Vox’s and by contract, he wasn’t allowed to kill you.

And he wasn’t. No he had grown accustom to the pretty demon who seemed to light the hotel’s halls.

However…he could override Vox’s ownership of your soul.

You flinched when you felt a large hand pat the top of your head. You looked up through teary eyes ay Alastor, who just sported a soft smile.

”Now now my dear don’t you worry. I appreciate that you came to and confided in me. What a good girl you are.” His smile stretched as you sniffled, looking at him with glossy eyes.

”Y-Youre not g-gonna k-kill me?” You asked looking down.

He chuckled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, claws finding their way under your chin to make you look at him

He rolled his eyes ”Oooh my dear of course not…” His fingers trailed down your neck, toying with your collar. “But I am in a bit of predicament”

You wiped at your eyes “how so?”

“Under normal circumstances, I would rip you to shreds and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear” his pupils turned to dials and his smiled turned wicked. You felt your heart stop a little.

He calmed down slightly “however I have another idea to break your deal with Vox” 

He smiled at you as you tilted your head in confusion.

”I know just the thing hehehe”

————————————————————————————

You whimpered as you tried to hold yourself up against the force of Alastor’s thrusts. “A-Al!” You whined as the demon tugged your hair to pull your body into his. A deep growl vibrated through you as Alastor sunk into your weeping heat, his cock hitting that soft spot inside you.

“Fuuuucckk!” You hissed, eyes rolling into your skull as your body buzzed with pleasure.

Alastor pulled your body til your back was flushed against his chest, his sharp teeth nipped at your skin before latching on and marking you. You winced as his tongue lapped at the blood, he purred as trailed his tongue up your neck.

”To think Vox had such a sweet cunt all to himself. Ooh darlin you’re wasted on him. But you’ll be a good girl for me wont you? You seem to love having a real cock fucking you” he chortled, giving you a harsh thrust. His hips grinded up into your ass, coaxing your cunt to take every inch over and over.

Your gummy walls tightened around him as you whined at his words. You could barely focus on what he was saying, not giving two shits either as he bullied your insides.

”I-I can be a good girl please please oh fuck! Aah! Aah!” You whined. Alastor’s large hands trailed up your body; kneading, pawing, and squeezing at your supple flesh. Pausing at your bouncing tits to tweak your hardened nipples, sending currents to your abandoned clit.

“I know you will baby” 

He nudges his head into yours, to gain your attention and capture your lips with his, swallowing your moans as one of his hands moves down to toy with your puffy clit.

Your body jerked as he rubbed tight circles on the bud; your cunt fluttering as slick dripped down your thighs.

”Ill make a deal with you darlin” he whispered against your lips, lidded eyes staring into yours, as you mewled, wanting his tongue back down your throat. 

“I keep this little mishap under wraps and in return you belong to me. Youre free to do whatever your heart but im no pushover m,a cherie.”

His thrusts sped up as he pinched your clit.

You keened, pushing your hips back into his, trying to follow the motion of his fingers, seeking to reach your orgasm.

”Do we have a deal?” He purred never breaking his pace.

Your collar let out blue sparks, Vox’s way of ‘reinforcing’ his control over you. You whimpered as the shocks edged you, but Alastor let out a deep growl as he wrapped his claws around the collar.

”Do we have a deal?” A snap of his hips pulled a moan from your throat.

”oh! Yes! Yes! F-fuuuc-cckk”

Static ran through your body causing you to jerk as your orgasm washed over you, your collar fizzled out as Alastor’s cock pounded your cunt, riding your orgasm out.

The wet SQUELCH! Of your cunt echoed as high pitched whines left your throat. 

“That’s a good girl. Cummin all over my cock. Feels better than that robot huh? Yeeesss fuck! Take my cum darlin take it”

Your eyes crossed as your mouth opened in a scream. Alastor crashed his lips on yours, tongue pushing through your lips and pulling you into a heated kiss as he pumped you full of his cum.

Alastor let out a sigh as he slipped out of you, cock coated in creamy essence and smiling as he watched your cunt clench around nothing and dripping cum.

In your dazed state, you faintly heard a snap and a cool sensation coated your neck.

Instead of the sapphire jeweled collar, a gold chained ruby hung from your neck.

Alastor hummed as he rubbed your tired body, smiling wickedly as he slotted back into your soppy heat. You moaned softly as he rolled his hips against you.

”now lets send that mediocre podcast a proper video”

[juyeonszn]

POISON IN MY MIND

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.54k

GENRES smut ﹒ some angst (but very little)

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, ceo/ceo’s son!hyunjae, assistant!reader, power play tbh, hyunjae is an asshole (for what he thinks is good reason), another jacob bae appearance, juyeon is also mentioned, there’s a rain scene bc i love my rain scenes <3, hyunjae is a stupid idiot, making out (aggressively), nipple play, no foreplay lol, unprotected sex, sex on a desk x2 — but one is missionary & one is doggy? style?, overstimulation, degradation, brat taming?, creampie lol, the aftercare is there i promise

SUMMARY who really cared that you supposedly hated your boss?

MORE HELLAURRRRR FAWNTOBER DAY 4!!! im hoping i have no delays with the rest of the fics but idk bc the burnout is starting to kick in….. someone pls help…. it’s bc my brain is making me write more than i planned 😭 anyways! pls reblog if u enjoyed!

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

“Look at you, rutting against me like a fucking bitch in heat,” Hyunjae growls, lips beside your ear as he pounds into you from behind, your hair wrapped tightly around his fist. “Thought you hated me, sweetheart.”

“I— fuck— I do,” you whine, back arching off of the desk and into his chest. “I hate you s-so goddamn much.”

Okay, let’s rewind for a bit of context.

Truly, you hated Lee Hyunjae. He was such a pretentious prick, always dead set on being right about everything. He couldn’t stand those who he felt were inferior to him, those who he thought were incompetent. If he felt you couldn’t do your job to his standards, he’d fire you on the spot.

Despite not being the CEO of the company himself, he practically carried all of the perks that came with the position. That was only because he was the actual CEO’s son and the future heir to the conglomerate his father owned.

You had the unfortunate pleasure of being his assistant, tied to doing his bidding until your contract with the company timed out. You originally applied for the job for two reasons. The first was due to the fact that you genuinely loved the initial purpose pushed forward by the CEO. He shared a lot of similar ideals with you and had spectacular visions for bettering the business world. The second was because at the time of your application, you wanted to be the CEO’s assistant. And that was what you’d gotten hired for.

It paid more than well enough and it was your dream job. You loved what you did for at least the first year and a half. Until he announced that he’d be retiring within the next couple years and his son would be taking over as a form of practice for being in charge when he inherited the entire conglomerate.

You’d never met him in person before, only hearing the high praises Mr. Lee had for his precious son. So on his first day, you had extremely raised expectations for the male. You dressed your best (not that you didn’t put effort in before) and put on your sweetest personality, wanting to make a good impression on your new boss.

Imagine the disappointment you felt when you realized he was nothing but an entitled asshole.

He made you feel stupid, as if you didn’t know how to do your own job. What started as sitting in on important meetings and going over different documents with Mr. Lee, turned into running errands for Hyunjae and cleaning up his messes. If you weren’t out buying his coffee or grabbing his dry cleaning, you were sorting his paperwork for him and making sure he was prepared for his upcoming conferences, as if he wasn’t capable of doing so himself. You felt like a fucking babysitter rather than an assistant; like an errand boy rather than an employee.

You were so incredibly tired and it had only been four months. A few, tortuous months of you being treated like you hadn’t already given an arm and a leg for this company. Half of you wanted to just throw in the towel, rip up the damn contract right in front of the fucker and walk out of those gold plated double doors for good.

“Just push through, Y/N,” Jacob sighs over the video call. “Your contract ends at the end of the year, and if you still feel like quitting, then that’s that. You don’t have to worry about renewing or trying to reinstate your job.”

You were on your lunch break, holed away in one of the many unused conference rooms on the top floor. Hyunjae was being extra irritating today and if you didn’t speak with a voice of reason, you thought you’d make a drastic decision that would alter the course of your life forever. Whether that was tossing your employee contract in the shredder, or committing premeditated murder, the world may never know. Shout out to Jacob Bae.

“What if I push him out of the floor-to-ceiling window in his office? I could make it look like an accident. Everyone would probably rejoice instead of mourning him, because we would all be so much happier.” You throw the back of your hand over your forehead. Well, that answers that.

“You’re not killing anyone. If you got caught, you wouldn’t look good in a prison jumpsuit. Orange isn’t your color.” Jacob shakes his head, rolling his eyes playfully.

You gasp scandalously, sitting upright to gape at him. “What the hell? Yes, I so would! I would make that prison jumpsuit my bitch—“

Someone clears their throat behind you, causing you to flinch, whipping around in your swivel chair to find the culprit. When it’s none other than Lee Hyunjae staring back at you, you feel like your life has just flashed before your eyes. You wonder just how much of that conversation he heard before making his presence known.

“Um, Cobie, I’m gonna have to call you back…” You don’t allow your friend time to respond, ending the call before he can incriminate you more than you already have.

Hyunjae leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his absurdly broad chest. Did this guy have to wear the tightest dress shirts possible? Maybe it was time for him to update his wardrobe. You tuck your hair behind your ear, slowly standing up from the chair. His expression is unreadable, not that you ever had it easy when it came to understanding the many faces of Lee Hyunjae.

“Mr. Lee, what— uh— what can I do for you?” You ask with a slight waver in your tone. So much for not incriminating yourself. He purses his lips, taking a step closer to you.

“Juyeon can no longer accompany me on the trip to Tokyo next week. Which means you’re second on the totem pole,” he says simply, loosening his tie. “Better pack your bags, ‘cause I’m not taking no for an answer.”

This was horrible.

You were mentally cursing Lee Juyeon over and over. Why did he have to back out at the last minute? This was the one part of the job that you couldn’t allow yourself to do. You’d much rather drive in circles around Seoul and grab iced Americanos than be in a completely different country, with no other company aside from Lee Hyunjae himself.

When he gave you your demise, you immediately tried to get out of it. Your excuse was valid; you didn’t have a passport and that’s kind of essential when traveling to another country. But even then, it wasn’t enough to get you out of this predicament. Being the rich, influential man he was, Hyunjae had your passport expedited and sent to your mailbox within a couple days. You gave up after that.

There was nothing he couldn’t do.

Except maybe being tolerable. You think that was most likely his only fault. He could’ve been the complete package had he mastered the art of bedside manner. His father was one of the kindest, selfless men you’d ever met. You were often curious why those same traits didn’t translate to his son. Then again, he had probably been raised as a spoiled brat who got everything his heart desired.

To make matters worse, you had one of those suites with a Jack and Jill bathroom, meaning he could enter yours without difficulty if he wanted. You supposed that was because the rooms were reserved with him and Juyeon in mind. Perhaps the case would be different if you were the first pick for this trip.

You let out a deep exhale, waiting outside of the conference room that Hyunjae was currently in. This was meeting number seven, and the last of the day before you could finally go back to the hotel and relax. You’d be flying back to South Korea the following day on the Lees’ private jet. All of your time in Japan had been spent both sitting in and sitting out of board meetings, so much talk about business plans that you felt dizzy.

All you yearned for was a nice warm bath and some room service, wanting to call it an early night because of your flight in the morning. You were exhausted, eyes growing heavier and heavier the longer Hyunjae sat in that room full of old men that came from bloodlines of money. Even though it was your job to be here, you felt so out of place. There were moments you found yourself contemplating your career path. You were surrounded by people who could just sign a check to get rid of their life problems. That wasn’t you.

Before you can fall down a rabbit hole, the door to the conference room is swinging open and Hyunjae is storming out, some of the other board members calling after him. Your eyes widen and your eyebrows furrow, your body springing up to follow after him. Wearing some flats instead of heels was probably the smartest choice you’d made today, making it less of a struggle to chase after your boss.

“Mr. Lee!” You cup a hand around your mouth, trailing him like a lost puppy to the elevator. It closes before you can get on and you groan, running a hand through your hair frustratedly. As you wait for the next one down, you call the driver so the car is waiting out front. According to the recent weather notification on your phone, it was pouring outside.

The elevator dings when it arrives back at the floor you were on and you hurry to get on, pressing the lobby level aggressively in hopes it would move faster. Even the soothing music playing over the speakers isn’t enough to calm your nerves, picking at your nails as the numbers transition to the corresponding floors you pass. This was one of the numerous occasions you wished your boss wasn’t so impulsive. What did they even say to him in that meeting to cause such a reaction?

The doors open and you’re rushing out, frantically searching for Hyunjae in the lobby. You spot the driver parked under the carport, waiting. Your feet carry you to the car, knocking on the window to get his attention. He rolls it down with a confused look.

“Have you seen Mr. Lee?” You ask, a bit winded by all of the running you’d been doing.

“I thought I saw him walk that way,” he points ahead, though it hardly answers your question. “I didn’t realize you weren’t with him.”

Just fucking peachy. He was making you chase him into the rain now? You needed a pay raise.

Thankfully, it’s a breeze to spot him, since he’s the only person in the crowd without an umbrella. You pinch the bridge of your nose, forcing yourself to walk out into the cold rain, weaving through pedestrians to get to him faster. He’s not much further from you, but you’d rather drag his ass back to the car sooner rather than later, the precipitation seeping through your dress shirt and pants, chilling you to the bone.

“Mr. Lee!”

You reach for his wrist and wrap your fingers around it, yanking slightly to yield his focus. He turns around with hardened features, but they soften just enough for you to notice when he realizes that it’s you. Your lips form a flat line, eyelashes coated with a mixture of mascara and rain water, obscuring your vision.

“I don’t know what happened in there, but I don’t have it in me to ask. Please, can we just go back to the hotel?” You ask almost desperately, teeth beginning to chatter. He frowns, but nods nonetheless, letting you pull him to the safety of the carport— where you’re free from the unrelenting pelts against your body— and into the car.

You don’t say anything the whole drive to the hotel you’re staying at, biting your tongue because you were afraid you might blow up on him over his stupidity and get yourself fired. Your bottom lip quivers and you hug yourself for warmth, the car’s heater failing to bring back the color in your cheeks. In spite of hating nearly everything about him, you thought the one good thing Hyunjae had going for him was his wits. He might’ve been stuck up, but he was smart as hell. Except right now. In your books, he was the biggest idiot in the history of idiots.

The silence continues even after you’ve arrived at your hotel, shadowing you into the elevator and to your respective rooms. You don’t acknowledge him, unlocking your suite and entering to avoid any conversation. The remainder of your energy for the day was used when you were attempting to save him from getting fucking hypothermia.

You stand in the shower until your fingers have pruned, resting your forehead against the frosted glass as the scorching water battered your back, easing the tension in your muscles. While changing into your pajamas, your phone buzzes with a text message.

[9:23pm] mr. lee (DNI): i don’t know if u’ve eaten already, but i ordered a lot of food if u’d like to have some of it.

[9:24pm] mr. lee (DNI): left my bathroom door unlocked so u can just let urself in

Your lips purse as you mull over his offer. It wasn’t exactly an olive branch, but even if it was, you wouldn’t take it as such. You had too much pride for that. Instead you viewed this as him just feeling guilty for having you pursue him in the rain. That was definitely not in your job description. Perhaps he wasn’t as heartless as he made himself out to be, and he just didn’t know how to extend an apology without being awkward about it.

Reluctantly, you give in.

[9:27pm] you: sure. be right there

You slide your feet into your slippers and shuffle through the four doors between the two of you that lead to his suite. It takes everything in you to not visibly react to the difference between your rooms. His is so much more spacious, with enough room for a table and couches, aside from the usual desk. Even he looks expensive, a silk pajama set adorning his body— the first few buttons undone to give you a glimpse of his chest, though it hardly leaves room for the imagination.

Hyunjae sits at the table, various sushi roll platters in front of him. He holds up his chopsticks as he scrolls through his phone mindlessly, glancing up when your slippers shuffle against the floor. He takes in your appearance as quickly as he can without making it obvious, the corner of his lips curling up when he sees the teddy bears on your feet.

“You know, I didn’t think you’d come,” he starts after a few minutes of eating in an awkward quietness. “Not just here, to my room, but on the trip in general. I thought you’d put up a bigger fight to get out of it.”

“It’s part of my job, Mr. Lee.” You say flatly, taking away as much emotion from the statement as you could to avoid getting in an unnecessary argument.

“We’re not at work and it’s outside of working hours, Y/N. You can call me Hyunjae.” He tries to meet your eyes but they’re focused on picking at the skin around your nails, legs criss-crossed on your seat.

“Why do you go by Hyunjae?” You decide to ask, glancing up at him finally. “Your dad said your birth name was Jaehyun.”

“I don’t remember when exactly it was, but when I was in grade school, a classmate called me Hyunjae by accident and it just stuck. I’ve never really liked the name Jaehyun, if I’m being honest. It was a common name, and well, you of all people should know that I’m all about my individuality.” He leans back in his chair a bit, folding his arms over his chest. You ignore how it makes his pectorals squish together. God, you were no better than man…

“Is that why you’re nothing like your father?” You don’t mean to say that out loud. The thought popped into your head, as it always does, and for some reason this time it just shimmies its way through your mouth. You press your lips together, shifting uncomfortably at the sudden tension that arises in the room.

“I’m well aware of what you think of me, Y/N,” he chides, tapping his fingers against his biceps. “You may think you’re good at hiding it, but I’m very perceptive. And I also overheard that conversation with your friend— the one where you were plotting my assassination and whatnot.”

“Are you open to rebuttal?” Perhaps you should just stop talking, maybe pause the hole you were digging yourself into. Did you want to keep your job? Sure this was all off the record, but be fucking for real, it was Hyunjae you were speaking with.

He shrugs. “Shoot. Let’s hear it.”

“You’re kind of a narcissist,” you kick off strong, hitting him right where you think it may hurt. “You don’t take in the consideration of others, and you always have to be correct. If someone even slightly disagrees with you, you lose your shit. You’re condescending, you’re a perfectionist, you’re hot headed, and after the stunt you pulled today, you’ve exhibited that you’re also really fucking irrational. I’ve done so much in the time I’ve been with the company prior to you, I’ve given so much of myself for the improvement that your father was aiming for and you took all that hard work and crushed it between your fingers, just to have me running around like I’m your maid.”

Hyunjae wears an amused smirk on his lips, like he couldn’t be bothered with your grievances. Your eye practically twitches, irritation boiling up like water ready for a pasta dinner. You stab your chopsticks into a piece of sushi with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re cute when you get worked up,” he hums, carding a hand through his hair. “I almost want to keep my thoughts to myself.”

You choke on your saliva, smacking yourself on the chest to regain control of your breathing. Whatever you were expecting him to say wasn’t that. Should he even be calling you that? He was your boss. Not just that, but you sort of hated everything there was to hate about him. The tiny compliment shouldn’t make both of your heartbeats quicken.

“W-What are you talking about?”

Hyunjae stands from his chair, walking around the table to sit on the edge of the desk in the room, not much further away but enough distance to keep you calm. He rolls his neck, scratching at the nape to relieve some of the awkwardness seeping into the suite. “My father has done nothing but sing your praises since he hired you. I know how capable you are of this job, Y/N. I know that you’ve accomplished more than individuals who have been with the company even longer than you. Trust me, I know.”

“Then why do you discard me the way you do? Why do you treat me like I don’t know what I’m doing?” This time you don’t stop the emotions from creeping beneath your words, your voice cracking just slightly. If Hyunjae heard, he makes no effort to show it.

“Because, I had to keep myself as far from you as possible,” he admits, finally making eye contact. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I was fucked. I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself around you and as your boss, I couldn’t do that. As my father’s son, I couldn’t do that. So I resorted to the next best thing, making you hate me and having you do shitty side tasks to separate myself from you. I thought, ‘If she thinks I’m the worst boss ever, she’ll want nothing to do with me’. And that’s exactly what my goal was. But now you’re here in Tokyo, alone with me in my hotel room and I’m starting to rethink that decision.”

You stare at him— mouth agape, heart in your throat. Once upon a time, you believed Lee Hyunjae was one of the brightest, smartest businessmen of your generation. It seemed that he just wanted to go and prove you wrong on that today, in multiple instances. How could someone be so fucking stupid? You were genuinely curious what went through his head.

“You’re unbelievable,” you scoff, a laugh devoid of humor sneaking in along with it as you stand from your own chair. “Actually unbelievable. What made you think that was a good idea? You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough to be in this position because you didn’t think you could keep it in your pants around me?”

And just as you’re about to leave, he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you. You were getting a weird sense of déjà vu. He pulls you into his chest, your body sandwiched between his legs as he holds you close to him. Your eyes are wide and your lips are parted. (Though you don’t know if it’s out of shock, sudden arousal, or both.)

In this proximity, you can see every small detail of his face. From the freckle on the bridge of his nose to the thick eyelashes framing dark eyes to the softness of his lips. You’ve never had the opportunity to properly look at Hyunjae, always too pissed off to even be within ten feet of him. But standing here— face-to-face, eye-to-eye— you’re starting to wish the object of your hatred and many complaints wasn't so handsome.

“If you push me away now, I’ll leave you alone forever,” he breathes, hands fisting the material of your pajama top, as if that would ground him. “If you tell me there’s absolutely no possibility of you wanting me back, I’ll let you go back to your room like none of this happened.”

You don’t respond. The words are right there. They’re perched on the tip of your tongue, just anticipating to climb out of your mouth and put him in his place. It’s been months of constantly feeling like you were meaningless to the company you’ve given so many sleepless nights to— months of second guessing just how much you’ve actually contributed. But with one glance down to your lips with eyes resembling the night sky, Hyunjae has managed to wipe all of that from your memory.

So instead of turning around— instead of walking through the four doors that divide your hotel rooms— you stay planted between his thighs, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling his lips onto your own.

He groans into the kiss, tightening his grip on your shirt and bringing you closer to him. You feel him against your stomach, hard and ready for you, ready for any contact you’re willing to give him. It’s so much and too little at the same time, fingers slipping beneath your top and searing your skin.

He nips at your bottom lip, as if asking for permission to permeate your mouth with his tongue. You welcome the wet muscle with gratitude, moaning when it tangles with yours. The blunt edges of his nails dig into your lower back when the sound hits his ears. You tug at the hairs on the base of his neck, one hand sliding down the front of his body to feel him up.

Through the thin silk of his pajamas you can make out the outline of his sculpted torso. If Hyunjae was more coherent and less intoxicated by your lips on his, he’d tease you for your desperation. But because he's neither of those, he, too, finds himself clawing at every bit of fabric of your clothing he can, longing to touch anything he can get his hands on. You feel drunk, and you wonder if he makes you feel like this with his lips alone, what else can he do?

The straps of your top fall off your shoulders the longer you stand there, making out like it was second nature to both of you. When you take a step back to catch your breath, lips swollen and glistening with a mixture of both yours and his saliva. Your chests are heaving up and down, foreheads resting on the other’s.

“Can I take that as a yes?” Hyunjae rasps, pushing your straps further down your arms. You whine, connecting your mouths again. This was embarrassing enough, you didn’t want to have to say the words out loud. Saying it out loud made this real, and you didn’t want to accept the fact that you were about to fuck your boss.

He chuckles against your lips, undoing the buttons of his shirt without parting from your kiss. You help him toss it somewhere in the room, your hands groping his arms and squeezing his biceps. He spins the two of you around so you’re the one with the edge of the desk on your back. His arms hook under your thighs, placing you on the surface so it’s less strain on his neck as he leans down.

You instinctively spread your legs to make room for him, throwing your head back with a drawn out sigh when he presses two fingers to your core. Even with your panties and your flimsy pajama shorts in the way, the pressure relieves some of the ache you feel in your gut. Your top slips off enough that your bare breasts are now on full display for Hyunjae. He keeps circling your clit through your clothes, mouth enveloping one of your peaked nipples and tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

“C-Can’t hold on anymore,” you whimper. “Need to cum on your cock.”

Something shifts in Hyunjae when he hears you beg. You’d always been so set in stone when it came to standing your ground, so for you to surrender yourself to him, in spite of reiterating how much you despise him, it did a number on his sanity. You have no idea what you’ve just done to him.

“No foreplay? Think you can handle it, sweetheart?” He goads, but his fingers dip into the waistband of both your underwear and your shorts to pull them down your legs anyway.

“You’re talking a whole lot for someone who’s still wearing their pants.” You bite back, but almost immediately retract your words when he rids them, revealing that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath them. No fucking wonder you could feel him so much.

He’s huge, like so huge you kind of regret skipping the foreplay. But it was too late to go back now, your pride as big as his dick. One of your hands reaches to wrap around his length, your teeth finding purchase on your lip as you stroke him gently. Every pulse and every vein beneath your touch has you curling your toes in excitement. He hisses when your thumb swipes over his tip, collecting the precum that’s formed there.

Hyunjae drags you closer to the edge, prying your legs wider so he fits perfectly between them. You guide him to your entrance, a moan ripping from your throat when he presses into you. He’s not even fully sheathed inside of you, but the stretch is so fucking delicious, stinging just enough that it provides pleasure rather than pain. He pulls out to drive back in and repeats, a little deeper each time he does.

When he bottoms out, his hips snap into yours, large hands keeping your thighs apart as he begins to thrust into you. His cock is snug within your warm walls, kissing so deep inside that you start to see stars well before the coil in your abdomen has begun to wind up. The noises leaving your mouth are insane, loud and echoing throughout the hotel room. It made shame bubble up in your chest, because why couldn’t your detestation overpower the urge to crumble at his fingertips?

“Fuck you’re so tight,” Hyunjae groans, eyes concentrated on where his cock slips in and out of you. “You needed this, huh? Needed me to fuck you real good? Like a filthy slut?”

You’ve never thought you’d be into degradation. In fact, a man calling you demeaning names actually pissed you off. So you felt like you’d end up picking a fight if ever in the situation where someone tried to degrade you. However, the words falling from Hyunjae’s lips have the opposite effect on you. They have you clenching around him and mewling like a goddamn pornstar.

His pace is relentless, inching you closer and closer to your breaking point. He lays you flat on the desk, one hand gripping your hip and the other sneaking to your clit. His thumb rubs ovular motions into the engorged skin, his body folding over yours to capture your lips with his. He swallows your cries when your climax washes over you suddenly, your walls fluttering around his cock.

Hyunjae pulls out before he can follow suit, flipping you onto your stomach like you were a fucking pancake. He bends you over the edge of the desk as his thumb continues to circle your clit slowly, languidly just to ride out your high. He propels forward, his dick still so hard as it breaches your hole once again. He curses, extra sensitive after depriving himself of his own orgasm.

You push back on him, wanting to feel him even deeper. Your whole body burns beneath him, his chest slick with sweat as it presses you flat to the desk. You need him everywhere, God you want him everywhere. It’s not enough to have him buried inside of you. You need to be one with him; one body, one mind, one soul. You need him filling your senses— blinding your sight, obstructing your scent, stealing your touch, invading your taste, muting your hearing.

Okay, now let’s resume.

“Look at you, rutting against me like a fucking bitch in heat,” Hyunjae growls, lips beside your ear as he pounds into you from behind, your hair wrapped tightly around his fist. “Thought you hated me, sweetheart.”

“I— fuck— I do,” you whine, back arching off of the desk and into his chest. “I hate you s-so goddamn much.”

“Yeah? I’m sure you do. You hate me so much, yet you want me to fuck you full of my cum, don’t you? Gonna let me finish inside you?” His voice is exerted, and you can tell he’s close. But you are too, so you’re not above pleading for your sweet release. Not when it rewards you so well.

“Mhm,” you whimper, cheek smushed to the surface under you. “Please, Jae… Need it so— oh my god— need it s-o bad.”

Hyunjae hikes one of your knees onto the desk, allowing him to plunge extensively. Your clit bumps the edge, that coil in your stomach fracturing little by little until it’s busted completely and you’re a babbling, incomprehensible mess. The sight of you fucked absolutely stupid tips Hyunjae into his own spiral, painting your velvety walls with thick ropes of his cum. He lets his forehead fall on your shoulder, rocking into you with delayed groans as he spills all he has to offer you. It’s so much that even his cock plugging you up isn’t sufficient to keep it from dribbling along your thighs.

You’re both too winded to move, much less fathom what just happened. You feel him panting on your back, eyes shut as you also attempt to regain your bearings. Where the hell do you go from here?

“H-Hyunjae…” You wince when he stirs inside of you. “Can— uh— can you pull out?”

He grunts as he carefully does what you’ve asked, running a hand down his face when more of his release trickles out of you. He knew you couldn’t afford another round. Just by looking at you he can see how spent you are. What you needed was another bath and some good rest. Without skipping a beat, he reaches out to tuck some strands of your hair that were stuck to your face behind your ear, wiping away the sweat that glued itself there.

“We have a lot to talk about,” he says, grasping your hands and caressing the backs with his thumbs. “But that can wait until tomorrow. For now, just let me take care of you, okay?”

“Okay.” You agree, tone no more voluminous than a whisper.

You did have a lot to discuss pertaining to tonight, but that wasn’t a priority at the moment. Who really cared that you supposedly hated your boss? All you could focus on was how gentle his fingers were as he washed your body for you, massaging your muscles so delicately you might as well have melted in the palms of his hands. And all you could pay attention to was the hushed sound of his voice as he kissed your temple and lulled you to sleep, within the comfort of his arms.

Yeah. You could revisit the whole Lee Hyunjae hatred train another day.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[tightjeansjavi]

Burning in Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ : Part 7 ‘illicit affairs’

A/N : this was such a fun chapter to write! A break from the angst, (for now) this also turned out to be WAY longer than I originally planned so y’all are getting fed, you’re welcome ☻

Summary: flirting tips with Joel Miller 101. Step one, wake your ass up at the crack of dawn, be smug about it. Step two, be a gentleman and present a thermos of shit QZ coffee to you. Step 3, teach you how to shoot. Step 4, do not allow the enemy to have the upper hand.

~word count : 4.3k~ (you heard that right)

Warnings: age gap (m/c is 28) flirty! asshole! Joel. Pining, teasing, lots of swearing, tension, banter, mentions of guns and knives. (+18) minors dni !

Songs for this chapter:

“illicit affairs” by Taylor Swift

“You Know I’m No Good” by Amy Winehouse

“Kiss With A Fist” by Florence + The Machine

_________________

November 2020 : 5 miles outside the Boston QZ

It was November now. The ground wasn’t quite frozen yet, but there was a chill in the air every morning. You could no longer hear the birds singing outside the window. Your body was slowly accustomed to the lack of vitamin D it was getting, just like how it did every year around this time. Knowing that the cold months of winter were on the horizon, only had you grow more restless. Your routine felt like a death march. Wake up, drink shit coffee. Shovel shit or dump bodies. Return home, drink, sleep and repeat. You couldn’t remember the last time you actually got a decent night's sleep. Your body was constantly exhausted. Your muscles were screaming at you but your brain was constantly running, like one of those stupid energizer bunny commercials from the past. You hated that stupid bunny.

It was early one morning. 4:00 A.M probably, but no one actually kept track of the time anymore. Your restless slumber was disturbed by your bedroom door slowly opening. You kept your knife tucked under your pillow constantly. The sound of your door creaking open was enough for you to grasp your knife to your chest before you shot up from under the coarse covers. You were absolutely ready to fuck up whoever was coming into your space.

A sense of relief mixed with annoyance washed over your features when you saw it was just Joel. His brooding height leaned against your doorframe was enough to make you roll your eyes. Did this man ever not look intimidating?

“Jesus fuck, Joel. You couldn’t have knocked? Given me some form of a warning?” You whispered while tucking your knife back under your pillow.

His expression was amused and even in the dark, you could tell this mother fucker was smirking.

“Sorry about that doll, you’re just a little too easy to sneak up on. You had me for a second there thinkin that you were gonna stick me. Would have been an awful fuckin start to my mornin.” He rasped, his voice was still thick with sleep and his hair was a fluffy mess on his head. Not that you were paying attention to those details. Damn him.

“Yeah, and for a split second I was thinking of sticking you. That’s why we knock. So you don’t end up with a knife buried in your chest, asshole.” You muttered the last part out as you swung your legs over the side of the bed and slowly stood up.

“Alright, smart ass. Next time I'll remember to knock.” He was still leaning against the door frame, arms crossed against his chest.

“Yeah, yeah sure you will. I’ll believe it when I see it.” You grabbed your hoodie from the floor and threw it on before attempting to fix the mess that was your bed head. Using a worn hair tie on your wrist, you pulled it into a ponytail.

“What kinda psycho is up at this early hour anyway?” You asked. Looking over at him as you pulled your hair back.

“The kinda psycho that I apparently am. It ain’t even that early.”

You scoffed then. “Pretty fuckin early to me. Now my real question is, what are you doing in my room at this hour?”

He shrugged then, clearing his throat as he spoke. “Well, couldn’t really sleep. Thought about how I promised you that I’d teach ya how to properly shoot. Figured there's no time like the present.”

“Huh. So that was your first thought that came to mind when you couldn’t sleep?”

“Guess so. Anyway, ‘nough of the chit chat. Get your shoes and coat and grab the gun I gave you.” His tone was not a suggestion. It was a demand and frankly, it was too early to be dealing with his bullshit.

“Sir yes sir.” You mocked his tone then, giving him a sarcastic solute.

“You're hilarious doll, really. Drop the smart act. We don’t have time for that shit today.” He turned on his heel then, leaving your open doorway and walked down the hall.

Your immediate reaction was to flip him off, naturally. Grumbling to yourself you grabbed your backpack, your gun and your knife and threw on your boots. The last thing you grabbed was your thick coat. You could already feel the cold air nipping at your skin.

Joel was waiting for you outside the apartment door. He had a travel thermos for you, filled with coffee. The familiar smell hit your senses immediately and you appreciated the small gesture. Closing the door behind you, you grabbed the thermos from him before taking a sip, letting the warm liquid seep into you. The QZ coffee was shit but it got the job done.

“Thanks. Wouldn’t survive the morning without this stuff.”

He looked at you for a moment then before he took a sip of his own.

“Oh trust me, I know. You’d be intolerable without this shit.”

You gave him a light punch to the shoulder then, it was a playful one.

“Yeah and you’re still a grumpy asshole with or without it.” You brushed past him then, quietly heading down the stairs. You could hear him mutter under his breath about your comment and you grinned to yourself as his footsteps followed yours.

Once you were both outside the apartment, Joel instinctively walked ahead of you. Always feeling like he needed to protect you. It was in his nature. You took the back alleys together, ducking in dark corners as you moved silently. There would only be a handful of Fedra soldiers out at this hour, but it still wasn’t worth the risk of getting caught.

________

The sun was just beginning to peek in the horizon as you neared the hole in the perimeter fence. Your coffee had gone cold at this point. Joel had stood over you, pulling back the torn fence so you could slip through first. He waited, looking around for any signs of movement and when he deemed it was safe, he slipped through the fence without another glance.

The silence between you was comfortable as you walked towards the nearby woods. It was a 5 mile walk to the deepest part of the woods. No one would find either of you there and in a sense, it was peaceful. You had shared a bit of jerky during the walk. It wasn’t much for breakfast but it would have to do. You’d kill for some proper eggs and bacon. Maybe in another universe, you thought.

Joel had wrapped up what was left of the jerky and stuffed it back into his coat pocket. You were surrounded by tall evergreens on every side. They were lightly dusted with freshly fallen snow. The scenery was beautiful, and eerie at the same time.

“You sure no one's gonna find us out here?”

“Nope. Been comin out here for years with no problems. You’ve got nothin to worry about, doll. Trust me.”

Letting out a sigh then you set your bag down on a nearby stump along with your now empty thermos.

“Alright, fine. I trust you but if a clicker comes out of those trees..”

He chuckled then, shaking his head slightly as he finished off what was left of his coffee.

“We’re in the middle of the fuckin woods. Most we’ll see out here is a few deer. No clickers. You’re safe.” His reassurance that you were in fact safe out here was enough for you to un tense your shoulders slightly. You’d always be on alert though. You didn’t have much of a choice; not in this world.

He continued then, setting his bag down next to yours.

“You brought the gun, right?”

“You think I'd come all this way with you, just to not bring the gun with me?” You smirked slightly, unzipping your bag and pulled out the revolver.

“What did I say about ditchin that fuckin smart mouth of yours huh?” His eyebrow was raised and his jaw was clenched slightly as he looked at you.

“Oh shit man, I’m terribly sorry. You see, my smart fuckin mouth is kinda a part of me. It’s permanent. Meaning, it’s not going anywhere.”

“No fuckin shit, sherlock. I know what permanent means.”

It was your turn to smirk now. It was easy to fall into banter with him and you secretly, but not-so secretly enjoyed it.

“Mhm. I was just checkin.”

He let out a huff then. You were insufferable sometimes but he liked the fact that you could keep up with him. In fact, he enjoyed these moments with you. It made him feel all the more human. You were that constant breath of fresh air for him. Better than any liquor, or opioid he could get his hands on.

“Alright. Enough of that. You remember the grip I showed you the last time?” He asked.

“Sure do. You were pretty serious about it, if I remember correctly.”

“Good. Now show me so that I know that you ain’t bluffing.” He had his arms crossed over his chest again, waiting for you to confirm that you weren’t faking it.

You held the gun outwards with both hands. Your grip was firm but from his angle, you looked a bit stiff. “See? I’m a good listener after all.”

“Relax your arms. You’re fuckin stiff and when that kicks-back its gonna go right into your face. What did I say about–”

You cut him off then. “Thumb over my thumb, left hand squeezes down on the right.” You looked over at him then, your eyebrow raised almost as if you were challenging him.

“You gonna do the teachin here or am I?” He walked over to you then, coming up alongside you before he reached out and grabbed your arms, the fast movement caused you to stiffen more.

His lips were at the shell of your ear now and his hands were gentle. “Relax.” He whispered. “Just relax, Gwen. You’re stiffer than a fuckin board right now.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine from his lips nearly touching the thin skin on your ear. For a moment, the close proximity of his body to yours had your head spinning. ‘Focus, Gwen.’ you told yourself in your head. ‘Get your fuckin shit together.’ You relaxed your shoulders slightly, allowing him to push your arms down so that there was a slight bend. His hands were on yours then, rough skin on soft. He adjusted your grip slightly then before he moved his hands off of yours. Just when you thought you were out of the woods, you felt his hands on your waist and despite the biting cold, your skin was on fire from his touch.

“Straighten your back a bit. Yeah, just like that. Good girl.” You could feel his smirk against your ear. This motherfucker knew exactly what he was doing.

You straightened your posture then and waited for his hands to move from your sides but they didn’t.

“Are you fuckin tryin to distract me right now Miller?”

“Nope. I don’t have to try and do that. You just allow me to get in your head.”

You took a deep breath then, cocking your neck to the side slightly as you bit down on your growing frustration. Did he really have to be this close to you?

“Shut up.”

He moved your legs a few steps to the right with his knees and the movement caught you by surprise. You felt like fucking bambi on ice with how easy he was able to maneuver you. It sent brief flashbacks from how he effortlessly threw you on your bed not that long ago. ‘Focus Gwen.’

Joel knew exactly what he was doing. Toying with you was easy and although he knew he was crossing into some dangerous territory, he couldn’t help it. He was drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He liked that he had this effect on you, up until his own brain was screaming at him to focus and get his own shit together.

He moved his hands from your waist then, letting his fingertips drag against the outer layer of your coat before he took a step back, allowing you to feel like you could breathe again.

“Now, you see that tree over there? There's a bare spot right in the middle of it. Think you’re good enough to hit it?”

Your eyes shifted to the tree he was focused on, zoning in on your target.

“Yeah, sure. Easy peasy.”

“Alright, rookie. Need you to take a deep breath in. Squeeze the trigger, not all the way. Breathe out and release.”

You listened to his words then. Taking a deep breath in, you lightly applied pressure to the trigger. Not enough to set it off. When you released your breath, you pressed down all the way and listened to the deafening crack of the bullet being released. You were feeling cocky and expected to hit your target on the first try. Instead, the bullet had whizzed past the target and into some nearby evergreens. missed.

You were silently simmering in your humility and Joel was going to take full opportunity to pick on you for it.

“What was that you said just now? Somethin easy peasy?”

Your jaw clenched then as you bit down on your vile words.

“Alright, big shot. Why don’t you show me how it’s properly done then?” You handed the revolver off to him then, standing off to the side.

“Alright, but you’re just askin for humiliation on yourself doll.”

“Just shut the fuck up and hit the fucking tree, Joel.”

“Feisty. Shoulda gotten you more coffee.” He mused before gripping the gun, just like he showed you. His movements were far more natural than yours. It was all muscle memory at this point for him. A second later and another crack. Joel’s bullet landed right in the middle of the target, sending shards of bark flying into the untouched snow.

He turned to you then, an undeniable smirk on his face as he handed you the gun back, leaning in slightly as he spoke.

“Easy Peasy.” his tone was cocky and it sent your blood boiling.

You were left speechless.

For the next hour, Joel had you practice hitting the target. He didn’t care that you were wasting precious ammo. If you were going to go on smuggling runs with him and Tess, you were going to need to use a weapon outside of your knife. The last thing he wanted was for you to get injured just because you weren’t comfortable with firearms.

“Alright, doll. One more time and then we’ll move on. You’re almost there just need to think about not being so stiff and breathe, for fuck sakes. The enemy is gonna lay one on you before you even have the chance to pull the trigger.”

He was sitting on the stump then, chewing on another piece of jerky as he watched you.

You were determined to hit this fucking tree. You had to prove to yourself that you could do this. All you wanted was to get in on the action. Fuck up some infected and feel like you actually held a purpose in Joel’s life. You listened to every word he said. Remembering to loosen up and breathe. Eye on the target, ‘breathe.’

You took a deep breath, pressing down on the trigger lightly and on the exhale, you released it. Listening to the crack of the bullet as you watched it soar through the air, smacking into the chipped away bark. You had finally hit your target. A sense of pride and relief washed over you in that moment as you turned towards Joel.

“Atta girl.” His lips were upturned slightly as he looked at you.

You gave him a little playful bow then, your boots crunching in the snow as you walked over to the stump he was sitting on and plopped down beside him, nearly pushing his broad form in the snow.

Joel gave you a disapproving look, his eyes lowered as he grumbled. “You really can be fuckin intolerable when you wanna be, doll.”

“I know.” There was a sense of smugness in your voice. It just naturally came out when it was just you and Joel. “Anyway, you kept your promise to teach me how to shoot and now I will do the honors in teaching you how to properly wield a knife.”

“You think for a second I don’t know how to use a knife?” His eyebrow was raised in your direction.

“Oh I don’t doubt that you can use one. The real question is, how good are you really?”

“Guess we’re about to find out.” He offered you the last bit of jerky before he slowly stood up, pulling his combat knife out of his bag, flipping it a couple times in his hand.

You had a feeling that in the next few minutes, you would be forced to eat your words.

Joel loved to see you in your natural element. Right off the bat he observed that you were far more confident with a blade in your grasp. Your posture significantly changed, hell, your entire demeanor had gone and done a complete 180, right before his very eyes. He wanted to see what you were made of. Were you as lethal as you made yourself out to be? How many people had you killed to survive? He wondered.

Joel was far too focused on you to even hear your instructions. He was off in a completely fucking different universe and it was all your fault. You had taken notice when he didn’t respond right away and you rolled your eyes, feeling slightly disrespected. To get his attention, you wasted no time to hurl your blade at the targeted tree. The tip of the blade was embedded in the same spot where Joel’s bullet had previously struck true. The sound of your blade hitting the bark, knocked him out of his trance and had him blinking a few times. Cursing under his breath but you couldn’t make out his words.

“Are you even fuckin listening to a word I just said man?” Your tone was sharp and full of annoyance. Shaking your head you walked over to the tree, the snow crunching beneath your boots and you grasped your blade, yanking it from the dry bark and walked back over to him.

“Zoned out for a minute there.”

“Wow, you don’t fuckin say. Pay attention, Joel. I’m not gonna repeat myself twice.”

His fingers flexed over his own knife. You really did have quite the mouth on you and for someone so petite, your words packed a solid punch. “Easy now, Doll.”

You gave him a look then. Your eyes boring into his for a moment and you both waited to see who would break the tension. You were challenging one another, silently. Who was the weaker one and who would hold their ground. Joel found your stare on him to be just the right amount of intimidating and he found himself casting his eyes away from yours, clearing his throat quietly.

You had won this round, for now.

“As I was saying..” You continued with your instructions and this time, he made damn well sure to listen. He found himself glancing at your lips as they moved. He couldn’t help himself, really. You were truly an enigma in his eyes. A mystery wrapped up with the biggest fucking attitude he had ever encountered.

You showed him the proper position. Where, and how he should stand. You adjusted his grip, made a comment about his posture being wrong. You were right there, invading his senses. Just the brush of your fingers across his covered arm was enough to have him sweating. You damn well knew what you were doing, you had to.

He watched you carefully then as if he was the prey and you were the predator. Oh, how the tables had turned.

“Breathe out nice and slow when you release it. Don’t fight against it either. The blade is a part of you, Joel.” Your tone was too soft for his liking, your breath could be felt against his cold cheek and he gritted his teeth together, his jaw clenching.

“Yeah alright, think I got it from here, doll.”

You smirked then knowing that you had gotten under his skin just the slightest. You rattled him. Taking a step back, you crossed your arms over your chest, giving him a slight nod.

Joel focused back on his target, zoning in on it and like the mother fucker he was, he threw his knife like he had done this 1000 times as well. Joel knew what he was doing but having you think you were teaching him, was the highlight of his day. The tip of his blade struck the chipped away bark with a thud and he looked over at you, smugly.

“You mother fucker.”

“Easy peasy.” He quipped back.

“I can’t believe you right now. What is there that you can’t fucking do?”

“Hmm.” He thought for a moment wanting you to believe he was bluffing. “Can’t think of anythin. Guess I’m just that good, huh?”

“You’re un-fucking believeable Miller.”

“Oh, I know. I absolutely am.”

_______

Joel had decided to teach you a few combat moves. He wanted to get back at you for rattling him and this was the perfect opportunity. He didn’t think about how you were far quicker than him. You blocked his punches easily and you hit back twice as hard. Now it was easy for him to believe that you were lethal, without a doubt. You could tell he was beginning to tire by his staggered breaths, his knees were for sure going to give out soon, his punches at you were becoming un-calculated and sloppy.

Bingo.

Joel felt his legs getting kicked out underneath him before he had the chance to catch himself. His back hit the snow with a soft thud. He hadn’t even had the chance to pull himself up before you were on top of him, pinning him down with your weight. The tip of your blade was held dangerously close to the artery in his neck and his wrists were pinned above his head. How the hell did he end up here? He had no clue.

You leaned down towards him then, hair falling around your face and you had that wild look in your eye. Something about you in that moment was so feral. So lethal. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears from the close proximity. You had this man absolutely fucking stunned, and at your mercy.

“Do you yield?” There was a playful edge to your tone. You were enjoying this, getting back at him for all the times he got under your skin.

Joel let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He looked up at you, taking notice of the flush in your cheeks, from the cold most likely but maybe, also from him. He took notice of how close your blade was to his throat. Your other hand holding down his wrists and your thighs pressing down on his hips.

He didn’t respond. He instead took charge of the situation again, having no trouble freeing his wrists from your hold and pushing his weight against you. Your knife was yanked from your grip in a flash and tossed into the snow. He had you pinned beneath him now. His body was looming over yours, his breath heavy and he had your wrists pinned on either side of your head. Your legs were trapped between his and you couldn’t even move if you tried.

He leaned down then, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke. “You hesitated, doll. Now you’re dead. You can never let the enemy have the upper hand.”

Joel had you at his mercy now and he watched as your chest rose and fell. Your breath came out in sharp puffs. “You’re a fucking dick Miller. Fuck you.”

He chuckled then enjoying the fact that despite you and him both knowing that this little game was over, you were still resilient, still feisty and absolutely too stubborn to admit defeat.

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you killed one day Gwen.”

You scoffed. Twisting your wrists in his firm grasp to see if there was any chance of freeing them but he had you good.

“It’s gonna do a hell of a lot more than just get me killed, Miller.”

He was silent then, staring down at you like you were a caged animal, and he was the spectator. You both seemed to be waiting for the other to speak. To do anything. He thought about kissing you. Your lips were so close he could nearly taste them. An illicit affair in the snow, now that would be something.

The weight of his body on yours was no longer present. Your wrists were freed and you finally felt like you could breathe again as you quickly sat up, reaching for your knife and tucked it back into the holster around your hips. Joel had outstretched his hand for you and you grabbed it as he hauled you up from the snow.

You were both silent as you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder. Time had passed and the sky was beginning to grow dark. You had been out there for hours. On the way back to the QZ, you both had stolen glances. The tension was thick but neither party tried to cut through it. Some words were better left unspoken. You both had felt it though. The gravitational pull towards one another. After today, it was undeniably there.

Neither you, nor Joel had won this round.

CHAPTER 8:

[pleasantanathema]

Pleasant’s Writer Recs!

I’ve gotten a few asks in my inbox over the past few weeks asking me for writer recs, so I thought the best way to do this was to compile a list of my fav authors on tumblr and rec my favorite fic of theirs! A lot of these amazing authors are moots—I’m very lucky to call many of them close friends. This list could be much longer, and I could go on for days about every single author, but I’ll try to keep it brief. Most all of these authors, like myself, write 18+ only content. Hopefully this can be a useful tool for authors and readers alike looking for amazing fanfic 💕

@bakatenshii | Angel is so phenomenal with her writing that I almost can’t put her style and amazing ability into words (but I’ll try). Angel’s work is beautiful, masterful, full of poetry, elegance, and smut that will all leave you gasping. Fav Fic: Blitz [Ushijima x Reader]

@blahkugo | Sunnt, Thunnth, Sunny, whatever you call her, she is brilliant. No one writes Tsukishima quite like she does. She is beyond creative and her writing style flows like the sexiest water, it’ll make you thirsty and quench your aches. Fav Fic: Tower [Tsukishima x Reader]

@deathcab4daddy | Tay is all about details, details, details. She fills in every gap and paints gorgeous, sexy pictures and situations for the reader to feel immersed in. Fav Fic: Cerulean Blue [Akaashi x Reader]

@dymphnasprose | Dymphna is all about fun, sex, and slowly filling out her holy bible of smut. She’s amazing at creating realistic sub/dom relationships and her smut almost always comes with a healthy dose of build-up. Fav Fic: Green Scrunchies [Ukai x Reader]

@enjifuckersupreme | Ketsl reigns supreme over pure, unadulterated porn. They are phenomenal at making me the reader wet, and every fic is crafted with so much care. Enji fuckers should bow down at their feet, no one loves and writes Enji like Ketsl. Fav Fic: Attitude Adjustment [Enji x Reader]

@hisoknen | Raph is one of the first dark blogs I ever started reading, and she never, ever disappoints. She writes pieces that chill you to the bone, but warms your sex- her writing is casual, smooth, and realistic, always giving you everything you need, but leaving you wanting a little more. Fav Fic: Sleeping Beauty [Dabi x Reader]

@hoe-doroki | Ana is one of the sweetest writers I know. Every time I talk to her, she’s working on comfort requests or beta-reading for other people. Her writing is such a pleasure to read, as you can tell she pours love and consideration into every fic for her readers. Fav Fic: Can’t Find My Breath [Bakugou x Reader]

@joyousandverywarlike | Zo...holy fucking shit. Zo is a writer who consistently blows me out of the water with her skill. This woman is a novelist blessing us with juicy, rich smut and love stories like no one else can. She is incredibly poetic and her writing is an absolute joy to read; she also writes amazing fics for black readers and has an amazing voice that she uses for asmr audios! Fav Fic: How We Met [Ushijima x Reader]

@lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten | Leah is an author who takes immense care with her work. She works incredibly hard to craft sexy, healthy bdsm fics for bnha. She is a great blog to go to for bdsm education, and she’s also got a side blog @lemonlordleah-extra-sour for all you extra naughty readers who like the darker side of fanfic. You should also check out her Patreon! Fav Fic: Between the Evergreen [Aizawa x Reader]

@linestrider | Nyki’s work is like smooth water, it’s calming, refreshing, but she also adds a nice, chill bite to it as well with her darker style. Nyki puts such an impressive amount of care into her work; a word is never out of place, every sentence has meaning, every paragraph gives you something new. It was very hard to choose just one fic to recommend. Fav Fic: What’s Said is Said [Hawks x Reader]

@lookslikeleese | Leese is one of the most fun writers on Tumblr, and by that I mean you just have a shitload of fun reading her fics. They are like little, sexy treats to take in right before bed and feel a little more full than you were before. She is also the Cucking Queen. Fav Fic: Cola [Enji x Reader] 

@messwriting | Lee is also another fun writer! Her writing is exhilarating to read, and you’d never guess she’s a sexy Brazilian whose second language is English based on how well she writes. She’s a little sex goddess who will give you everything you want and more in every fic. Fav Fic: What We Could’ve Been [Tsukishima x Reader]

@mindninjax | Marquie is a full on sweetie with a sexy side. She. Is. So. Creative. Every fic of hers is so unique and her masterlist is a whole reading experience. She writes Bakugou Katsuki so damn well, she’s a master at characterization, even in au’s. She also writes beautiful fics for black readers. Fav Fic: Bound to You [Bakugou x Reader]

@nekokoafanfictions | I first found Ai on Ao3, and then was fortunate enough to come across their blog here on Tumblr! I’ve said this before in previous rec lists, and I’ll say it again, I still read their fics some nights to fall asleep to, they are just that good, every fic will have you coming back at some point to read it again. Fav Fic: City Lights [Enji x Reader]

@present-mel | The. Queen. Of. Dialogue. Mel is a master at making her fanfic feel real, gritty, sexy, and beautiful all at the same time. This woman pours her heart and soul into fanfic, especially into her Erwin series Fragments of Memories. I was so captivated by her work that I just had to become her friend, her work is enchanting and thrilling. Fav Fic: Until the Fire Played [Enji x Reader]

@rat-suki | Annie makes me horny. Like, real horny. Her smut is fantastic and are often little thrill rides within themselves. Fuck rollercoasters, just go to Annie’s masterlist to find a joy ride. Fav Fic: Hell Fire [Enji x Reader]

@rivendell101 | I’m such a big fan of Alisha, that I sent her a request months ago before we even became friends. This author knows how to craft a story, her work is very meticulous with details and her plots are always so spot on. Fav Fic: Sweet Thing [Natsuo x Reader]

@smutbardpeach | Smutbard is the most accurate title for Peach, as her fics read like poetry and song, filled with beautiful language, imagery, and allusions to the brim. If you’re ever looking for something romantic, sensual, delightful, and just overall magnificent to read, this is the blog to go to. Peach’s work is like reading poetry and classics right off the shelf. Fav Fic: Truth in Wine [Hizashi x Reader]

@spicyness | Are you thirsty? Do you like fun, sexy headcanons? Ness is the author for you. Ness is so, so fun and sweet, and is active with her followers and is always posting something new and creative for us to nibble at. Her blog is full of fun thirsts and she’s always a joy to see pop-up on my dash. Fav Fic: Pride [Bakugou x Reader]

@sugardaddykenma | Lin has the most amazing brain. I wish I could just...see and understand how she thinks. Her blog is full to the brim with hilarious, iconic, and down right fucking true headcanons for haikyuu characters. Many nights I have stayed up laughing my ass off and saying “why is that so true?” while reading through her astonishingly creative work. Fav Fic: Haikyuu on Drugs

@thewheezingwyvern | Wyv is a writer who gets straight to the point; her words are poignant, meaningful, and always paint a very clear picture. She is a Shinsou and Aizawa lover/fucker all the way to her core, and she’s amazing at bringing those characters to life in her work. Fav Fic: Salt Lines [Aizawa & Shinsou x Reader]

@thisisthehardestthing | Claudia is one of the most talented writers I have ever met. Period. She has a vocabulary, a depth, an ability to craft the most intense, alluring, and magnificent fanfic you’ve ever read. Most of her work doesn’t even seem like fanfic, it reads like love letters stuffed into the pages of a book that stand the test of time with her marvelous writing abilities. She always awes me, as every single fic is unique and powerful it its own way. Fav Fic: Tocka [Tanaka x Reader]

@tomurasprincess | The Queen of Darkness herself, Mari is amazing at fulfilling all of your dark desires. I’ve never met anyone else who is as active as she is with her followers, as she’s constantly pushing herself to answer requests and give people exactly what they want to see. She has such an expansive masterlist, any dark fic lover can find something worthwhile from her! She’s almost made a Shigaraki fucker out of me, almost. Fav Fic: Wraith’s Touch [Shigaraki x Reader]

@undermattsun | Miki taught me what a skate rat is. Do I understand it yet? Not really, but I fucking like it. Miki is so much fun and is always active with her followers, giving out awesome thirsts, visuals, and headcanons for her fav haikyuu characters. Fav Fic: Flavor of the Month [Matsukawa x Reader]

@vixen-scribbles | Vixen is someone who cares about everyone around her, and her blog reflects that. Amongst all her amazing writing, you’ll always find her recommending her friends and supporting other writers. Her writing is fucking sexy, she knows her way around the bedroom when it comes to fics, and she’s got a lengthy masterlist to fawn over. Fav Fic: Take All of Me [Ushijima x Reader]

@whats-her-quirk | Truly, the best has been saved for last. June’s work is the heart and soul of classic, fucking amazing fanfic. I can’t even explain how much I love her fics, like they will put the biggest smile on your face and have your thighs rubbing together in anticipation. June is writing her fantasies and having fun, and we are privileged to enjoy the ride with her. She knocked kinktober out of the fucking park, with each fic being a new, fresh delight. Fav Fic: Once in a Blue Moon [Karasuno x Reader Gangbang]

This list could honestly be twice as long, and perhaps in the future I’ll make a companion to it as I meet new authors and read more amazing fanfic. Please give all these authors a follow or at least check out their blogs. 💖

[drakenology]

boyfriend number 2

- hinata shoyo x fem!reader x miya osamu

minors dni.

warnings: 18+ content, smut, infidelity, exhibitionism (yall already know lol), degradation, dumbification/incoherence, cussing, raw sex, mentions of cum, raunchy hook up, poor unsuspecting boyfriend

Every day of the week you’re subjected to a routine. The same routine you’d been living since high school. With the same boy since high school.

Sure, Hinata was quite possibly the perfect boyfriend. He was sensitive and attentive, so sweet you almost felt sick. But in bed.. well he did his best. Always cumming a bit too quickly, nearly finishing you off or not even driving you close to an orgasm. You’d lost count of the amount of times you’ve faked it with him and with him being as sweet as he is Hinata didn’t suspect a thing. But you loved him, really you did. Hopefully, eventually, you could teach him how to please you.

But every so often, every now and again you found yourself with someone else. Sure it was wrong, but it was just different with him. With Osamu. Osamu was the hot volleyball player from out of town you had met one foggy night at the bar. It was supposed to be a one time thing, you swore to yourself.

But with the way he fucked you that night, you found yourself coming back for more everytime. You swore with every orgasm came a high you could never get with Shoyo. When you felt that ache of need, that dull feeling in your dissatisfied cunt when Shoyo went home for the night, you knew exactly who to call. And Osamu always answered, always so ready and willing to give you a filling the right way.

Not to mention he was insatiable, every spot left untouched and wavering would then be caressed, licked, sucked on, fucked. You’ll never forget the times he made you cum so hard, the cops were called from the concerning sound of your high pitched whines and sobs.

Eventually, his neighbors stopped calling when you came over, knowing that when you come over in your pajamas and an over night bag hanging over your shoulder as you happily knock on his door meant you’d be getting your insides flipped about 7 different ways in about a half hour.

Just like usual, Hinata flops next to you in bed. His chest heaves after another “wild” night with his pretty girlfriend who seemed to enjoy herself too. He peppered kisses along your shoulders and up to your ear and whispered a sweet I love you. You smile and close your eyes, sleeping in your boyfriends arms as he followed right behind you.

-bzzzt bzzzt-

Who could be texting you at this hour? You sit up groggily, squinting your eyes at the bright screen of your phone as you pick it up. It was Osamu.

“Be ready in 30, tell your boyfriend you’re goin out ;).” The text read, a familiar feeling in your chest starting to brew as you bit your lip. You slowly slip out of Hinata’s grasp and kiss his forehead, tip toeing around his room to find your clothes and all your belongings.

Just as promised, Osamu arrived in 30 minutes, honking his horn ignorantly as if it wasn’t about 12 o’clock in the fucking morning. You rushed downstairs about as quietly as you could and practically ran towards his car, jumping inside to escape the cold rain.

He drives back to his place with his hand on your inner thigh, his thumb caressing the flesh as his other hand turned the steering wheel. You knew running off with another guy behind your boyfriend’s back was wrong, but why did it feel so right every time you did it? Osamu had everything Hinata didn’t; passion with an attentive and doting nature.

Besides the bedroom, he made you feel like you were the sexiest thing walking. He was exciting and wild and unpredictable. Everything you didn’t know you needed until you started fucking him a month ago.

Even as you kiss Osamu’s lips pinned up against his apartment door, even as your clothes are casted aside all throughout modest space, you still think of Hinata and how much this would crush him if he ever found out. But when Osamu was inside you, shit, who the hell was Hinata? Osamu hoists you over his shoulder, walking into his bedroom with a firm smack on your ass before laying you down on the bed.

“Mm, I missed you, Osamu.” You purr, arching into his body as he kissed and sucked on your neck.

“Ditto.” He mumbled, pulling your panties off when you lift your ass to help him take them off. His hands make their way to your already dripping cunt, clit swollen from the denied orgasm you were forced to endure just moments before coming here.

“What is that motherfucker doing to you, huh?” He asks, apologetically rubbing tender circles on the puffy bud. You yelp, so sensitive your thighs start shaking a little. “Bet he doesn’t even know what this is, does he baby?” You mewl in response, the pleasure going straight to your brain.

Osamu smirks at you, rubbing his fingers along your slit to relish in your wetness, your aching pussy practically gushing for him to do anything to you.

“You get so wet for me, princess. You get this wet for your little boyfriend?” He questions, hooking his fingers inside you to prod at your softest spots. You attempt to answer, shaking your head and letting out a shaky “uh-uh” as he fucks you with his fingers. Osamu kissed you sloppily, moaning into your mouth as his fingers moved faster, the sound of your pussy sucking in his fingers causing his cock to make less room for him in his pants.

Your back arched off the bed, panting as his tongue lapped up your clit, his fingers hooking deliciously against your spongiest spots. His name was written on your lips, the only thing you can say before your stomach is in knots, pathetic moans leaving the pit of your chest as you feel yourself getting oh so close to cumming all over Osamu’s handsome face.

“I-I’m cumming, hnnnn fuck!” You scream, your slick dripping all over Osamu’s hand. He moans against you, pulling you closer as he suckled on your puffy clit. With a high pitched squeal, your coming undone, your thighs closing around his head as you pant heavily.

Osamu’s smirking against your skin before pulling away, wrapping his big hand around your throat and kissing you hotly. Your tongues swirl, moaning against each other as Osamu pulls out his heavy length.

Another thing Hinata lacks. Osamu’s cock always had you feeling so full, the perfect size to get you drooling. His girth alone was impressive, thick veins, the cherry on top. Don’t even get me started on those heavy balls, the ones that swing and slap at your already aching clit with every thrust of his hips. He ran his length along your dripping folds, tapping his perfect head against your clit as your hiss and writhe underneath him, desperate to feel full.

“Want it baby?” He asks, prodding himself at your desperate hole. You nod feverishly, rambling on about how badly you wanted to feel full, how much you wanted to feel him throbbing inside you. Of course your dirty mouth grants you your wish, Osamu’s cock stretching you with a slow motion.

“‘S so fuckin’ tight, baby. Gimme that pussy.” He moans, rutting his hips into yours, hands holding up your thighs to reach deep. You’re sobbing, tears falling onto the pillow beneath you as you let out breathy moans. Osamu’s mouth stop ghosting over yours to sit on his haunches, reaching over and grabbing something.

“Phone for you.” Osamu whispers, handing it to you, not halting his hips for no one. You grab it, darting your eyes at him as his dick kissed your cervix.

“H-Hello?” You croon, trying to sound like you’re half asleep.

“Y/N? Did you go home? Where’d you go?” You hear Hinata ask, unable to answer right away as your mouth hangs open at the searing hot pleasure Osamu’s cock brought you.

“I-I.. Yes. Sorry I didn’t wake you. I just- ah.. didn’t feel well.” You lie, biting your lip and rubbing soft circles on your sensitive clit as Osamu fucks your harder.

“Well, you coulda stayed over. I would have taken care of you.” Shoyo lectured, your mind not even fixated on what he’s saying to you.

You nod as if he could see you, looking up at Osamu with pleading eyes, his thumb replacing your fingers as he played with your clit.

“Go on, baby. Tell ‘em you’re about to cream all over my fuckin’ dick.” Osamu huffs, almost loud enough for Hinata to hear. You chew at your bottom lip, eyes rolling back as Osamu works you open with his cock, hearing Hinata say something hoping you feel better.

The pleasure was too much, your mouth drooling as your lips formed an o-shape. Osamu laughs, realizing you’re way too dumb to rush Hinata off the phone. So he does it for you, like the nice guy he is.

“She’ll call back later. She’s too busy taking my cock to talk right now.” He says before hanging up, turning off your ringer and returning to his work on your cervix.

You blink away tears, throat hurting from all the screaming and whimpering as you approach another mind blowing orgasm.

“Hnnn, fuck, Osamu yes. Your cock’s so fucking big. Need it to make me cum, fuck! Hah shit!” You mewl, wrapping your legs around his strong waist.

“Yeah? Ooo that little fucker has no idea what this feels like, huh princess? Give it to me baby. Fuckin give it to me.” Osamu urged, eager to feel your gummy walls clamp down around him and milk him for every ounce of his cum as he brutally slammed his hips down into you.

“You’re my little whore, yeah? Like it when another man fucks your greedy pussy? Such a dirty slut. Say you’re a dirty slut.”

“I’m a dirty slut, Ah! I-I’m your dirty slut, ‘Samu. Uhhnnn!” The last thing you say before clenching around Osamu’s size, his cock throbbing furiously before erupting in white hot globs of his cum.

It was all so filthy, so raunchy and so wrong. Guilt was the furthest thing from your conscience though, laying limp and half asleep as Osamu pulled out and went to grab a towel to clean up. How could something so erotic be wrong.

You’d call Hinata tomorrow, try and explain everything when the time was right. But for now, you’d just lay there in your stupor, high off the euphoric orgasms you’ve experienced just then.

Tomorrow you’d make it right, even though it probably never could be.

[fruitcoops]

Could we please have a prequel to the praise kink fic? Because i really want to know why were Sirius and Remus not together and what did Remus send him. I really need context

I was hoping somebody would ask for this!! The aforementioned fic is here for any curious souls (18+ please) and SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for spicy texts (not exactly nudes), and smutty feelings with nothing explicit

The bus went over a bump and Sirius winced as his shins knocked against the back of the seat in front of him, connecting with the metal brace inside. “Fuck.”

“You sure you don’t want to switch?” James asked next to him. Sirius glanced down at the veritable wall of gear and empty snack bags between them, then back to James in disbelief. He shrugged, then set his headphones back over his ears. “Worth a shot.”

“Merde,” Sirius hissed as a pothole nearly took off his kneecap. He gritted his teeth and readjusted, drawing his legs closer to his chest. I want to be home, he thought, allowing himself an internal moment to whine.

He checked his phone—not even ten in the morning. It was a Saturday, so Remus would probably just be rolling out of bed, still sleepy and soft with his hair sticking up like a disgruntled cat’s. Sirius sighed heavily and stared out the window at the small town rolling past in the distance; there was little he wouldn’t give to be back with him instead of on the way to a full week of conferences.

“Why did we have to win the Cup?” he grumbled.

James lifted one side of his headphones. “What?”

“Nothing.”

It wasn’t like they had had much time to themselves before that, either—Sirius’ schedule was packed with interviews that felt more like interrogations, and Remus had been running the PT department mostly by himself while Moody took a well-deserved vacation. They were dead on their feet every night, worked to the bone with little energy left to do more than cuddle and fall asleep. Still, Sirius was grateful for every second of it.

He waited ten more minutes before giving in.

New Message To: Re

Bonjour mon loup <3

There was no immediate response, which made sense, though he was a little bit disappointed. Sirius closed his eyes and tried to make himself relax; it would be at least another six hours before they arrived at their destination, and the bad weather gathering overhead didn’t bode well for quick travel.

His phone buzzed gently and he scrambled to answer. Don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg—

New Message From: Re

Morning love!

Thanks for the bagels <3

“Fuck yes,” Sirius said under his breath. The bagels had been a last-minute decision as he crept through the house in the early hours of the morning after carefully detaching himself from Remus with a final half-asleep farewell kiss. There was no guarantee he would remember breakfast with everything going on, so Sirius figured it was a safe bet to toast them and leave them on the countertop before heading out.

Message To: Re

Pas de problem

Sleep well?

Message From: Re

Decent

Missed you :(

Sirius rested his temple against the cold window with a soft sound. He hated leaving at different times, but that was just how their life worked at the moment.

Message To: Re

Missed you too <3

Three small dots appeared for a long moment before vanishing without a trace just as his heart rate began picking up. Where’d you go? he almost wondered aloud. Something bumped his arm and James raised a quizzical brow. “Loops,” Sirius said by way of explanation.

“I figured. He okay?”

“I think so? He just…disappeared on me.” Sirius was well-aware of how plaintive he sounded—James’ teasing smile was completely unnecessary.

“Aw, Cap,” he laughed, reaching over to mess with his beanie until Sirius slapped his hand away. “It’s alright, buddy, it’s just a couple days.”

Sirius jammed his hat back on his head and flicked James on the unprotected bit of his ear, making him yelp. “Fuck off, I know you’ll be a mess as soon as Lily FaceTimes with my godson.”

“He has a name, you know.”

“Sorry. You’ll be a mess as soon as she FaceTimes with Pocket Pots, who happens to be my godson.”

James rolled his eyes. “I regret giving you that title.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

As if on cue, his phone lit up again; Sirius ignored James’ snickering as he quickly unlocked it.

New Message From: Re

When will you be at the hotel?

“That’s it?” he muttered.

Message To: Re

That was a lot of typing for one sentence

6-7 hrs, if the weather holds

Why?

Message From: Re

Sorry lmao Reg came in for a bit

Just curious :) Keep me updated?

Message To: Re

Will do <3

Tell Reg he needs to wash his sheets. It’s been over a month.

A small thumbs-up emoji was his only answer, and he tried not to be too bummed. Remus liked having things to do; sitting there and texting Sirius while he slowly got further and further away was probably not his preferred way to spend a morning. With a sigh that was likely a bit too dramatic for the situation he was in, Sirius faced the window once more and buckled in for a long ride.

He chatted off and on with the others when they stopped for lunch, but everyone was exhausted from the combination of a packed week and an early morning. Even Talker stayed fairly quiet, and James kept his headphones on for most of the trip.

Sirius finally succumbed to his tiredness and put some music on, then dozed for an hour or three while they traveled through yet another field. A few halfhearted calls of “cows” made their way around the bus, though nobody seemed particularly enthused about being packed in with double the gear due to a broken storage compartment. Donuts and gas station coffee could only do so much.

“Just crossed the state border,” Arthur called from the front of the bus as Sirius tried to ignore the cramping in his thighs. Three hours. Just three more.

His music was interrupted by a soft jingle alert and he pulled his phone out, hoping against hope that Regulus hadn’t caused a fire anywhere. It was unlikely given the…well, everything about him, but with Sirius’ luck it could happen.

New Message From: Re

How far?

Message To: Re

About 3 hrs. Ran into some detours

Good day?

Remus remained silent on the other end and Sirius frowned. That was rather rude, and highly unusual. Between the two of them, Remus was the one who kept conversations going past the initial question to be answered.

Message From: Re

Attachment: 1 Image

Love you! Call me when you get there : )

Sirius opened the attachment and almost threw his phone in utter shock. Skin. Bare skin everywhere, its smooth edges broken up only by tight black fabric that may as well have been painted onto the curve of Remus’ ass. “Oh my god,” he whimpered, voice barely audible even to his own ears. It had been taken in their bedroom mirror; Remus looked over his shoulder, and Sirius caught the corner of a devious smirk on his lips. “Oh, you fucker.”

Message From: Re

Thoughts? They’re cozy

Message To: Re

Did you miss the part where I said three (3) hours

Message From: Re

Nope

Second one is a guessing game and u get a prize if u get it right : )

The second photograph was more zoomed-in than the first and Sirius wracked his brain, running through his mental catalogue of Remus’ body to figure out the answer. It did absolutely nothing to calm the situation in his pants.

He had no idea what the promised prize was, but anticipation made his hands shake slightly as he carefully scanned the picture. The shadows caught it at an odd angle—it wasn’t the steady slopes of his face or neck, nor was it the strong curve of a shoulder. Not enough freckles, either, he thought.

A lightbulb lit in the back of his mind.

Message To: Re

Right hip

Another thought connected half a second later.

Holy fuck you took them off

Is that my prize?

Re?

Remus Lupin I swear to god

TEXT ME BACK

Message From: Re

Bingo!

Christ you’re impatient, I was gone for like 2 mins

He chanced a look toward Pots, whose head lolled to the side as he snored.

Message To: Re

Hey quick question why are you like this

It’s a good thing Pots is out cold bc this bus is too small to hide anything

Message From: Re

Haha sux to be you

Sirius’ cheeks heated with a whole cocktail of different emotions as he furiously typed a response.

Message To: Re

‘Sux to be you’???

Are you 13 yrs old????

Message From: Re

Do you want your prize or not u horndog

Message To: Re

YOU MADE ME THIS WAY

He took a deep breath through his nose and flexed his fingers.

Yes please

A simple smiley face—Sirius would never see those things the same—popped up, followed by an audio file. He triple-checked that his headphones were plugged in before tapping ‘play’ with an unsteady thumb.

His face went very, very hot before all the blood went straight to his groin and he closed his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand. Breathy sounds came through the heavy earphones, a little more crackly than they would be in-person; he heard Remus’ gasp catch in his throat and crossed his legs as best he could in the too-small seat, torn between thanking and cursing any higher power. He could practically see Remus’ face in his mind’s eye as the noises continued, intermixed with fragments of desperate words.

The file came to an end after what felt like the blink of an eye and a hundred years, and Sirius did not look away from the violently red seat cushion in front of him for a long moment as his brain came back online. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so turned on.

He took a few deep breaths, though it did nothing to erase the poorly-muffled whines that still rang between his ears like church bells. Sirius huffed and turned to grab his waterbottle out of his duffel, only to make direct eye contact with Finn across the aisle.

Sirius froze.

Finn grinned.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed, too low to wake James but just loud enough to carry over the four feet separating them. Finn’s smile widened. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”

“How’s Loops?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“That good, huh?”

“O’Hara, I swear to god—”

“Oh, is Cap spilling secrets?” Kasey asked, poking his head over the back of the seat.

Finn opened his mouth, but the force of Sirius’ glare must have been enough to at least intimidate him a little, because he shook his head. The smug Cheshire grin remained. “Nah, just having a chat about our plans when we get home.”

Kasey groaned. “You’re a lucky man, O’Hara. Both your people get to come with you. Nat sent me a promise, like, twenty minutes ago and I can’t stop thinking about it. I won’t be available tonight from six to eight if anyone was wondering.”

“Did she really?” Finn looked back to Sirius, who bit the inside of his cheek and tried to keep his cool. Two and a half hours, and then he would be safe. Just two and a half more hours.

[blahkugo]

Omakase

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki x Reader 

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+, smut, slight overstim, all characters are aged up, ofc. 

A/N: Happy birthday to the woman that literally birthed my blog, the writer of the best fics I’ve ever read-- *cough Notice, Seven Minutes, Of Love and Lemons, etc.*-- @lookslikeleese​. It’s 5 am right now and my brain cannot come up with the proper words, but just know I love you so much. Thank you for creating our entire friend group. I LOVE YOU. 

omakase (noun): 

(in a Japanese restaurant) a meal consisting of dishes selected by the chef; chef’s choice. 

Thirty minutes into supper with the Todorokis, you think your heart may actually stop beating. It’s not the awkward silence, nor the snowstorm of icy glares traveling across the table. You’ve long since made your peace with the scents of charred leather couches and melted silverware that linger in your hair whenever one of the men gets riled up. 

No, it’s an issue far more pressing than the typical family drama, a matter that needs to be resolved with stealth— immediately. 

It’s Shouto’s fingers, darting into his pocket and pressing a single button. It’s your heels digging into the cool tile beneath you. It’s every nerve standing on end, every passing second sending a wave of heat to your core. Your knuckles blanche, gripping the oak table with such ferocity that it may just snap, and your thighs shake, overwhelmed.

The issue is that there’s a little pink vibrator pressing against your clit and the bi-colored bastard chews his food as though this night is no different than any other. 

It doesn’t matter that the toy’s been placed at the lowest setting all night, doesn’t matter that your fingernails relieve a bit of the pressure every time you dig them into your exposed thighs. The only thought crossing your mind is your impending orgasm. How are you supposed to stifle euphoric pleasure when you’re barely able to hold it together now? 

“So, how’s that new job going?” Enji asks more out of courtesy than interest. While you typically humor his attempts at placid conversation, you’re too troubled to speak to the stoic man in front of you. What if your juices seep through your soaked panties right onto the chair? 

“It’s— ah- it’s really good.” 

And this has been your entire night thus far. Feeble efforts to remain coherent, whines and gasps hidden behind awkward coughs— anything and everything you can possibly do to maintain your dignity in the presence of your boyfriend’s father. 

“What was that funny story you were telling me earlier today?” Shouto doesn’t miss a beat, sending a quick slant your way before stuffing another bite of rice into his mouth. He knows precisely what he’s doing, can feel the pointed daggers you dig into the side of his head, but his relaxed smile reveals nothing to the three pairs of eyes gazing intently at you, awaiting your response.

“Oh, Mt. Lady, she— oh my god,” As soon as you begin speaking, he cranks the toy up to a new level. Though it’s only for a second, the sound that leaves your body is inhuman, a mortifying cross between a sob and a choke that has your palm slamming onto the table fiercely.

All at once, the table is bustling with concern for your safety. To their naive eyes, it seems you choked on a bite of food, and Fuyumi hurries to grab you a glass of water. Shouto simply remains seated, a slick grin plastered across his face at the sight of your heated cheeks and teary eyes. What the fuck could have possessed you to agree to this in the first place? 

“I-I’m okay,” you mumble out, embarrassment shaking you far worse than any sex toy ever could. And that fact— the way your eyebrows knead together in discomfort as you squirm in your seat— is precisely what Shouto wants. You’re no stranger to humiliation, no stranger to the tugging deep in your gut or the heated flush that darts onto your mattress and makes its home on your cheeks.

But this? This type of shame is foreign; it makes your head spin and refuses to waver no matter how much you silently gripe and plead. “Honestly, I feel a bit—” another pulse, another pained gasp from you, “ill.” The words barely make their way out before you’re gritting your teeth, thighs pressing together so tightly they may leave pretty purple marks. 

“Maybe I should take her upstairs,” Shouto sighs, faux apology slipping through his mouth with ease. When did the fucker get so good at lying? 

And then he’s helping you up from your seat, rubbing tender circles into your back, like any good boyfriend would. But every graze is unbearable, sends a tidal wave of warmth rushing through your core. The most innocent of touches has become obscene, twisted in a way only you and the cool man next to you are able to acknowledge. 

As you climb the stairs with shaky legs, you can only pray that the rest of the family doesn’t notice the slick juices trailing down your thighs. 

—

“Who knew dinner and a show could be so entertaining?” He teases, just barely dodging the fist you throw half-heartedly at his shoulder. His supple lips are glued into a smirk, one that probably won’t drop until the night is long over. 

“Please– I-” you attempt to stifle your moans, but in the comfort of his childhood bedroom you find yourself slipping into a high-pitched whine. “Turn it off.” He seems to debate the plea internally, slender fingers brushing over the buttons until you grip harshly at his bicep. You’ve endured enough misery to last you months. 

When he finally switches it off, you feel your entire body slacken and relief wash over you; however, it does nothing for the throbbing in your clit or the pool of desire still brimming in your core. What you crave is his touch, the warmth that pokes and prods at your every muscle, loosening each nerve until you’re a babbling mess— wholly at the mercy of his lithe fingers. 

“Shou,” you mewl, voice dripping with desperation. His eyes widen for a quick second, brows raised and shocked by your blatant come-on with his family only a level down. “I need you.” 

Those three simple words have him springing into action, shoving you against the mattress. Pinning you beneath him with ease, he hikes your skirt up to your hips before running a slender digit against your clothed slit. 

“You made a mess,” his words carry no weight, only amazement at the juices flowing freely through the thin panties and down your thighs. “Probably made a mess all over your chair too.” 

With that comment, your shame is back with a vengeance, tinging the tips of your ears and causing you to cry out. Before Shouto, you’d have never thought this sort of depraved commentary could have you shaking. Hell, you’re not sure he even knew what he was doing to you at first; ever oblivious, Shouto simply speaks his mind. 

Only when he noticed the effect of his words, did he begin using those passing observations against you. Now, he lives for your reactions, spurs you on if only to see how far a gruff remark can push you— and typically, your limit is reached in wanton sobs and bright red scratch marks down his back. 

He doesn’t bother with removing the lace panties, only tugs them to the side so he can brush his fingers against your naked slit. When he pushes a thumb against your clit, you can’t help the loud cry that escapes you. “Bite,” he offers up his wrist so that your moans don’t carry through the thin walls. 

Your teeth sink into his flesh, eliciting a sharp breath at the sudden pain. And he enjoys that part too— the lengths you’ll go to achieve pleasure, the stinging reminders of your desire. “Stay quiet for me, yeah?” He tests a finger, then two, knuckles deep in your doughy walls as you writhe on the bed. “Good girl.” 

“Mmph,” you feel your eyes roll back at the soft praise, thighs tensing as he begins to pump his digits in and out. “Faster, ah– please.” Your moans are muffled against his arm, but he complies nonetheless, fingers curling and hitting the spot that drums against your heartbeat, that rattles through your brain.

The second he brings his lips to your clit, you feel the coil in your stomach about to snap. Hair slick with sweat, your hands roam through his own wet strands, gripping and tugging him closer, closer, closer. He suckles hungrily, his last meal long forgotten as he pushes you further over the edge. 

All at once, you see stars. You’re unsure whether you’re keeping quiet like he asked or sobbing loudly, the tidal wave of pleasure consumes you whole, stomach going taut and twisting as he allows you to ride out your orgasm. With the toy slowly edging you all night, this bliss feels fully merited— is exactly what you deserve after being subjected to his teasing for so long. 

Shouto only lets up when your entire body has gone slack and you push his head away. Bringing his fingers up to your supple lips, he watches hungrily as you slurp at your own slick. 

His eyes are the darkest you’ve ever seen them, pooling with eagerness and a longing for more; he brings a thumb to his chin to wipe at your juices— licks a long stripe up the digit to fully savor you. The image is immodest at the least, animalistic at most.

It reignites your own thirst immediately. 

Though you’re exhausted, core spasming from overuse, you find yourself tugging at his waistband, pulling him close so he can sheath himself inside you in one fell thrust. 

“Fuck,” his voice is husky, groan stifled in the nook of your shoulder. “Still so fucking tight for me.” The only sounds that fill the air are your joint moans, the squeaky springs of the mattress, and the headboard clanging against the wall— sweat soaked skin as his hips snap against you. 

“Ah— please, please, please,” it seems to be the only phrase that falls from your loose lips. Every jerk sends shocks across your damp flesh, vision going foggy as he sends your brain spinning. Once again, you teeter at the edge, so close. Your legs wrap across his back, digging into the globes of his ass to pull him impossibly closer. 

“What do you want?” He grunts into your jaw, peppering wet kisses down your neck and across your chest. It may leave a mark or two, but it’s something to worry about later. 

“I–”At this point, you’re just a teary, blubbering mess, “please, Shou– need your cum.” You manage the words, knowing exactly what effect they have. His movements quicken, pace faltering as he chases his own high. 

And then, you’re both seeing stars. With one final shudder, his cock twitches, and then he’s spilling into you. Your groans intertwine, his a loud sigh of your name, you sobbing helplessly. 

Once he finally stills, he collapses on top of you, both of your chests heaving. His fingers smooth at your matted hair, whispers of ‘so good for me’ and ‘fuck, baby’ into the shell of your ear as he allows your body— still trembling uncontrollably— time to regain composure.  

Now you remember why you agreed to this little game of his.

–

“I hope you feel better,” Fuyumi hugs you goodbye, though your eyes are glazed over in post-coital bliss. Her gaze doesn’t quite meet your own, anyways. But they couldn’t have heard; you were quiet. Weren’t you? 

As you stumble into the passenger side of Shouto’s pristine Model S, you catch the gruff comment Enji murmurs to Shouto, 

“You two could stand to be a bit less obvious next time.” 

[penajavier]

though you are no god -  Frankie Morales x f!reader

This idea had been brewing for a while and hanging out in my drafts for a longer while, but I’ve finally found the inspiration to clean it up and share it! I am clearly a beginner at this and feedback/critique is always welcome. 

Title: though you are no god (credit)

Pairing: Francisco Morales x f!reader. One use of the word “girl”.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.3k

Content/warnings: brief mentions of nightmares and trauma recovery, angst, smut, still somehow the sappiest shit I’ve ever written. frankie likes to be praised. strictly 18+

ao3

••••••••

The first time you get to witness Francisco Morales fall to his knees in front of you, you almost don't remember it happening.  

His mouth presses hot and wet and urgent against your skin where he is bunching up your shirt to expose it. You are nearly as drunk as him, blindly pulling it off and throwing it somewhere behind him. The wall behind you is cool but does absolutely fuck-all to clear your head because oh god his hands are big and warm and his tongue is incessant and oh god this is Frankie, your goofy, kind, awkward, hot as fuck friend-of-a-friend. He pulls you forward a fraction just to tug on your pants and underwear, letting them gather around your feet without giving you the leg room to step out of them. He lifts your left leg over his shoulder with ease, and then his hands are bracing him against you and his tongue is working as if it has a mind of its own, circling your clit and sliding up your lips and you don't remember his fingers being that thick but somehow they are and you are close to going insane. 

Maybe tomorrow you'll wonder how you ended up here, in a hallway in his apartment where he barely bothered to turn the lights on before pressing himself into you, effectively shutting off any sane connection you might have still retained to the world after however-many drinks you two had got in you. The night was supposed to be about Santi, you vaguely recall, but right now you honest to god cannot even remember what promotion he got that you were supposed to be celebrating. You might have made a mental note to apologize to him for leaving his party early, but Frankie adds another finger to your wet cunt and moans like it's pleasuring him more than you, and it's a real effort not to kick him in the chest or collapse on him then and there.  

The fucker laughs as if he knows exactly what he's doing to you, and somehow increases his efforts to a degree you hadn't thought possible. It doesn't take much after that for you to feel that knot tightening in your belly, the electricity of it making your limbs shake. Only when he’s satisfied making you cum thoroughly on his tongue and his hand does he stand up, and for the first time since you got here, he speaks. "Hi," he says, the loopiest grin on his face, before leaning forward to kiss you without waiting for you to answer.  

Your last remaining brain cell thinks to itself, this is going to be one hell of a night. 

•••• 

The second time Frankie Morales falls to his knees in front of you, you can barely bring yourself to look at him. 

It's been weeks (months?) since he practically fell off the grid, following your childhood best friend and designated bad-idea-haver Santiago Garcia into the guts of South America. You had reached the point where a part of you was bracing itself for the worst kind of news, of never getting to see your boys again or hell, not even knowing what the fuck happened to them down there. The rest of you was still holding on to your anger in a misplaced effort to stay hopeful, refusing to let you feel anything other than the need to wring their necks as soon as one of them walked back in the door. And that was it, the majority of your days spent getting on edge every time your phone rang or you felt you saw a familiar set of messy curls pass you by on the street, until you walked home one day to find him standing outside your door, hand poised to knock but hesitant. 

"What the fuck?" the words escape you before you can help it, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. When he turns to look at you coming up behind him, you almost stop in shock at how absolutely shit he looks. "What the fuck?" you say again, seeming to have lost all your vocabulary at the sight of this stupid infuriating beautiful man finally standing in front of you in one piece, messy curls and all.  

An eternity passes with the two of you simply staring at each other, your grocery bags forgotten in your hands and his fingers twitching in an effort to keep them to himself. The smell of fresh bread wafting from your grocery bag does little to alleviate any tension, and the silence is almost painful. You want to do something, say something of all the rage and hurt you've nursed in you at being left alone. How dare you, you want to bark at him, want to hold him by the collar and smack him or kiss his face raw. 

You must take too long in your own head because he carefully extends a hand toward you, but you are so over-stimulated at the mere sight of him that you flinch.  

That's what breaks him, you realize later when the storms have passed and the proverbial rivers have calmed. Not the pain and loss and grief of the mission - things he'll whisper into your chest when you let him - and not the physical battering he must have taken through it all. What breaks him is you flinching away from him, as if you'd forgotten who he was. It’s only me, it's your Frankie, he wants to scream; wants to gather you in his arms and breathe into your ribs. But all he can do is fall to the ground and plead with his eyes.

I'm sorry, mi alma he seems to be saying, and the sight of this glorious man breaking down in front of your doorstep makes you ache in the depths of your bones. You rush forward, all your anger evaporating away from you in the instant it takes to wrap your arms around him and let him rest his head on your stomach. The position is awkward at best. His touch feels almost alien and his hair doesn't smell like you're used to, but you let him cry, let him ruin the clothes you hadn’t given much thought to anyway, and it doesn't occur to either of you that the shirt is one of his that he'd left at your place. 

You choke back the ocean rising in your throat, not knowing how to navigate everything you're feeling at the same time. Will we ever be okay? you wonder, your entire body feeling numb as he holds you just the tiniest bit more tightly.  

You don't know then if you'll ever forgive him, and he doesn't know if he'll ever be the same man again, but right there in that moment none of it matters. What matters is that he is here, and you are holding him like you'd wished and prayed for in all those lonely nights. Maybe you'll never be okay like you used to be, but you have him for now, and you're too exhausted to think beyond that. 

•••• 

The third time, it's fucking magical. 

You and your Frankie have finally settled into a somewhat stable routine. After he left you with the promise to get his shit together, he made good on his word. It seemed as if the mission that must not be named put things into perspective for him - and for you, for that matter - and the two of you decided to give up on the delicate dance you kept orchestrating around each other. You had realized that you needed him much more than you could ever resent him for leaving, and he had realized he never wanted to feel the paralysing fear of thinking he'd never make it back to you again. You two had decided to sit down like adults and talk about it, and Frankie’s regular visits to his therapist had certainly helped. 

Now, in the early morning light in your shared bedroom, he looks the very picture of calm. The birds chirp softly outside the window, blending in with the music of the traffic that you two have begrudgingly come to love. The nightmares haven't left him completely, but they're less frequent and far less incapacitating for him. You feel a rush of pride for how far he's come, how much effort he put into building himself back up piece by piece after being shattered to his bare bones. You’ve seen him curl into you out of fear and into himself during the moments of self loathing when he feels he doesn't deserve your kindness, but now he sleeps with his head tilted slightly upward, exposing the beautiful planes of his neck to you. He is beautiful, you've known it for as long as you've known him, but something about the soft sunlight turning his curls golden and the way you can tell he's truly at peace in this moment, brings tears to your eyes and makes your throat clench. 

You lean up on your elbow and touch his face. His skin is soft, and he smells faintly of your body wash. Thief, you think fondly, brushing his unruly hair away from his forehead. he had stopped cutting it as frequently as he used to because he noticed you liked running your hands through it, and you realize with a jolt that that had been years ago, long before you two had any conversation about the future, even before he had his world turned upside down in the depths of an unnamed jungle. That is when you realize that Francisco Morales told you he loved you long before you had the sense to understand it, and this time you do cry. 

He stirs in his sleep. You briefly worry that you woke him, but he simply turns his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing deeply at your shoulder before falling back asleep. The feeling of his soft breaths against your skin makes you smile, and you feel yourself falling more in love with every one of them. 

He wakes you up hours later with gentle kisses and the promise of pancakes, making you giggle with the way his moustache tickles your chin. When you find him in the kitchen later he seems more chipper than usual, smelling like a bakery and humming softly while setting the table for two. He greets you with a sweet kiss and pulls out your chair for you before sitting down in his own. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” you ask playfully, and he smiles wide behind his glasses that you’d finally convinced him he needed. Beautiful man, you can't help but think. 

"Just wanted to do something nice for my girl," he answers with his mouth full and you flick a berry at him, which he expertly catches. "Oh so that's how it's gonna be," he puts down his fork and you start to run away, but he is far too quick. He catches you by your waist and pulls you into his chest, licking your cheek obscenely.  

"Frankie, you dog!" you giggle, still fighting his grip.  

"Dogs are cute," he shrugs, seemingly unfazed against you using all your force. He is gentle as anything with you, but he sure likes to show off his strength every once in a while. He lifts you effortlessly off the floor and sets you on the counter. "You think I'm cute?" he wiggles his eyebrows. 

You almost playfully call him insufferable on autopilot, the way you've always bantered since you've known him. But you're aware now how he relies on verbal affirmations, and you've been making a conscious effort of supplying them whenever you can. So instead you hold his face in your palms and tell him that you think he's the most wonderful man in the world, and that you love him more than anything.  

"Baby," he drops his head to your shoulder and sighs. You do this to him, making his heart swell and threaten to burst out of his ribs. He doesn't have the words, doesn't know how to tell you he feels like the luckiest man in the world every morning when he wakes up next to you, every time he hears your voice or feels your palm in his. He doesn't know how to tell you you've been his anchor and his best friend, or how he can't believe he gets to have this kind of domestic bliss at all. "Baby," he repeats, "I love you." 

You try to deepen the kiss he initiates, but he pulls back and tells you he has plans for the day, telling you to get dressed for something outdoors. You feel a rush of happiness at the thought of him feeling more and more like himself with every day that passes, picking up old habits and finding joy in them. You kiss his cheek and run off to get dressed, beyond excited to see what he had planned. 

The ride to the field is longer than you expected. Frankie has turned the radio on and it plays softly in the background as you two talk occasionally. It’s a calm morning, with the perfect weather that's neither too cold nor too warm. He lifts your hand to his lips and kisses it softly once he's parked, and then he hops out and opens your door for you. 

"Such a gentleman," you tease. 

"Yeah," is all he says before he's kissing you breathless against the truck. It takes you by surprise, but it's far from unwelcome. 

Your hands come to rest on his shoulders, and you can tell it takes a special amount of effort for him to pull away from you, his hands still holding you close as he pulls on yours and leads you deeper into the field. The grass is high enough to tickle your ankles, and the whisper of it against your skin feels wonderful. He slows down, the pace leisurely enough for you to appreciate the wildflowers growing around you. He’s careful not to step on any, and you're struck once again by the multitudes that exist within this one man. The same man who has confessed to sins you could never have thought him capable of, now so careful with a thing as gentle as a dandelion. You think about his hand that is so gentle in yours, and the memory of it firmly wrapping around your throat as he does unspeakable things to you makes you blush, and you will yourself to come back to the present.  

Frankie has led you to a tree, and you notice a tree house resting on the sturdier branches. It’s new, you realize, and look at him quizzically. 

"Remember how I was supposed to pick up new hobbies?" he says sheepishly, gently leading you around to the other side where you see wooden footrests leading up. He urges you to climb up, and you are still so surprised that you can only obey. 

"I thought you'd like this," he's saying. "It can be our secret place, we come here whenever we want. Not that we don't already have a home and privacy but I thought this could be nice to have. Like a little getaway close to home." He's rambling now, as you notice all the fine details he has paid attention to in the construction of it. 

"Honey? Do you like it?" he asks when you've been too quiet. 

"Do I like it?" you ask incredulously. "Francisco Morales, this is amazing!" 

He immediately breaks into a wide grin, and you can see that he is proud of himself. He looks almost like an eager child, and you love the way his eyes shine in that moment. 

"There's one more thing," he leads you to a small opening in the wall that serves as a window. You can see the clear sky and the field stretching out under you, and the cool breeze feels like a gentle caress. It's a beautiful view, and you lose yourself in the sights and smells for a moment. 

"So am I looking at something specific?" you ask, wondering what it was he wanted to show you.  

He doesn't answer, though, and you turn around to repeat the question. The sight that meets you nearly knocks you off your feet, and you cover your gasp with your hand. 

Frankie is on one knee, hat resting by his feet and hand extended, holding the most gorgeous ring you have ever laid eyes on. You might be biased, but you couldn't care less. 

"Darling, I-" he starts, but you don't have the self control that he apparently does, and you throw your arms around him. 

He wraps tightly around you, only letting you have enough room to look up and kiss him. And god do you kiss him. You kiss him like he has never been kissed before, like you could pour every ounce of affection you have for him into that one moment, needing him as close to you as possible. 

You don't realise you're crying until he kisses the tears off your cheeks, and then he lifts your hand and slides the ring on. 

•••• 

The fourth time comes that night, after you've spent your day in the field, holding on to each other and bursting with mutual joy. 

He sits you down on the bed, and kneels in front of you, kissing your shoulders gently. "Hey, Mrs. Morales," he smiles as he says it, even as he's biting the soft skin at your clavicle. 

You laugh, telling him that’s not how engagement rings work. He only grins against your skin and bites harder. 

You scratch his head and he purrs, lifting his head briefly to give you a sweet kiss before he's pushing you to lie down. Let me take care of you, honey, he whispers. Then his hands are on your waist and his mouth is on your chest, making you writhe in place. He kisses and sucks and bites, making sure to give every part of you equal attention. So beautiful, he's talking almost to himself as he leaves a wet trail of kisses down to your tummy.  

His hands meanwhile touch and grab and smooth over any part they can reach, moving as if of their own volition. He knows your body so well that he can map it with his eyes closed, can recognize it with his last breaths. He reaches your cunt and pulls you closer, closer, inhaling deeply and groaning like he's hardly staying in control. 

With the same patience he had displayed earlier in the day he teases you mercilessly, kissing around where you need him most. You pull on his hair and he tuts and bites your thigh. What did I say, baby - a flick of his tongue against you - let me take care of you. You whine petulantly, and he tells you to be a good girl for him. He even says please, the asshole. 

The first lick against your clit comes at the same time as his finger pushes into you, and it takes everything you have not to lift off the bed. So wet for me, he moans against you, the vibration making your pleasure amplify. You fist the sheets around you, telling him how fucking good he's making you feel, how good he always makes you feel. The praise fuels him on and he pushes two more fingers into you at the same time. 

You are so full and so stimulated with his tongue incessant against your clit, and he has no plans of letting up. You feel your orgasm hit you quick and hard, and you can barely warn him before you're gushing, soaking his face and trying to pull away from the overstimulation. 

He looks up at you, grinning like the Cheshire cat. He licks you clean until you're begging him to stop, and then he patiently kisses his way back up your body. 

"That was... that was amazing," you're out of breath as you say it, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in to taste yourself. 

"Oh honey," he coos. "I've barely started." 

•••

fin.

Tagging some lovely mutuals whom I love and who are amazing writers: @disgruntledspacedad @pedropascaldice @frannyzooey. Please let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in the future (if there is a future) ❤️

[stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland]

There is a light at the end of the tunnel

Hello, Stuck. Sorry, I don’t know your real name.

I wrote this long ass post to bring some light into the fandom and between the CSs, and I hope you can post it? I’m new in the Tumblr world, but not in the 5H fandom. I don’t quite know how it works yet and, for the moment, I only know your blog and those of @emisonme, @karlaswine, @sun-to-my-luna, @underthatimpression, and @mentesimploria because, in one way or another, you’re all connected to each other. I just wanted to tell you guys how much I appreciate every single one of you, the passion you have, and the hope you keep alive among those who, like me, love the girls. Also, the patience you guys have, especially against the haters, is admirable. I love the fact that you keep going. Because this is your sacred place, as it should be.

This is the very first time I’ve ever done anything like this. I’m what can be defined as a ‘silent fan’. I never commented on anything in the girls’ posts, not even on the fan accounts I follow. I don’t have Twitter. I have Facebook but it’s like I don’t have it because I don’t use it. I have Wattpad (obviously). I recently registered here on Tumblr, and I have Instagram. That’s what I use. It’s the only app along with YouTube that I use daily to keep up with the rest of the world. Especially the American part of the world. I’m Italian, but I speak American English well, and I apologize in advance if my lazy ass hasn’t noticed possible grammatical errors. I saw that a lot of you are into this stuff, so I thought I’d add it just because. I’m a Capricorn Sun, Cancer Moon, and Virgo rising.

I’m gonna turn 29 on December 22, and this is a BIG fuck off to all the people who have attacked you lately for your age. This is personal information that I give freely to make ignorant and small-minded people understand that, in this context especially, age is irrelevant. As you, little fucker who hides behind a computer to attack people just to feel stronger, have a life, we have it too. Like you, we have a life, a job, friends, etc. We also have passions. Passions that yes, my dear haters, also include shipping people. I don’t know why in your stupid brain we’re too old to ship people we love and to give opinions about it. I didn’t know it was something reserved only for those who still smell like mommy’s milk. But anyway…

I became aware of 5H existence just before summer 2015 thanks to ‘Worth It’. Being Italian, however, I had no idea who they were, and to be honest, I didn’t go searching for them. Randomly one day then, I ran into Camren on YouTube. I can’t remember which video I was watching, but I know for sure it was about ‘Heya/Brittana’ (Heather Morris and Naya Rivera/Brittany and Santana, my very first hard LGBT ship). And among the suggested videos, there they are. As ridiculous as it sounds, and although I liked them as soon as I saw them, I didn’t go searching for them. I did it when ‘Work from Home’ came out though. From there, I connected that they were the same ‘Worth It’ group and the same two girls I liked from those YouTube videos. I had officially become a fan. I was screwed. Screwed because, I’d officially entered one of the most messed up and yet most beautiful fandoms ever.

As I initially said, this is the very first time I’ve ever done anything like this. But after the recent events, seeing how many people gave up, it made me a little angry and gave me the strength to speak for the first time. I thought the first time would’ve been through the fanfiction I’ve been working on for over two years, but no. Lauren and her beautiful mouth had to terrorize, disappoint, panic, and make angry 80% of CS, thus fueling the hatred of all the other fandom towards us. So I decided to speak now. Maybe, just maybe, this very long ass post of mine is gonna help struggling CS. Maybe, just maybe, it’s gonna make them reason and bring them to their senses.

So. This, as I think you’ve understood, is about Lauren and what she said in the podcast. This is a reminder of the Laucy situation. These are things we already know and that I want to remind you of because apparently, my lovely fellows CS, either you have a short-term memory, or Lauren has the power to create amnesia in people’s minds and I knew nothing about it. Surely this power of hers didn’t work on me and a few others.

Oh and, before starting: 1) You may disagree with me. It’s normal to have different opinions. 2) You can search for information such as dates, easily on the internet. 3) I’m gonna use nicknames on PRs for fun. That doesn’t mean I hate them. I have my reasons for dislike each one of them as people, but I can assure you it has nothing to do with the fact that they were or are the Camren beards. An example to make you understand what I mean is Ty. I’m a huge Ari fan and I’ve been listening to ‘safety net’ non-stop for two days straight. I really dislike Ty as a person, but I separate the art from the artist.

Okay, that said, I can start.

Lauren said: “I knew I was queer because I fell in love with my best friend when I was like 15.” – “Her and I started to have a physical connection when I was 15.”

Lauren and Lucid Vivisectionist met when L moved to Carrollton in 7th grade. Lucille moved back to Puerto Rico in February 2012, returning to visit Miami occasionally (this explains the fetus pictures with Lucy and Camren at L’s house). In February 2012, Lauren was 15, Camila 14, and Lucy 16. And who did Lauren meet when she was 15? Oh yeah, Camila. C and L did the first phase of the audition, the ‘cattle call’, on May 1, 2012 in Greensboro, North Carolina. Audition where Camila took courage to speak at the (“Oh my God that girl is) literally so beautiful” girl from which she felt intimidated by starting that adorable brief conversation “Hi, I like your shirt”, “Thanks. I like your jacket” just before it was her turn to get in for her audition. In May 2012, Lauren and Camila were both 15 years old. Lauren and Camila saw each other again for the first time on July 25th, two months later, in Miami on the first day of boot camp, and it was Lauren herself who went to Camila: “You’re the Cuban girl!”. In July 2012, Lauren was 16 and Camila was 15.

Lauren said: “She came back into my life when I was 18. I was on tour and I was in my room in a hotel somewhere, and she called me.” Let me explain to you why I think this is true.

Lauren and Luxy reconnected with each other after Lucy’s car accident that took place on May 15, 2015. Lauren was really 18 in May 2015, and we can rule out The Reflection Tour dates because it started on February 27, 2015, and ended April 6, 2015. We can also rule out these other show dates that 5H did: April 11 in Jackson Township, New Jersey - April 13 at Live! with Kelly and Michael in New York - April 19 Lauren was at Coachella with Keana, Britt, and other friends - April 22 at the Worldwide Radio Summit in Hollywood - April 25 at Radio Disney Music Awards 2015 in Los Angeles - May 8 at Channel 93.3 Summer Kickoff 2015 in Chula Vista, San Diego - May 9 at Wango Tango 2015 in Carson, Los Angeles (May 9, rumors about Camila and Louis Tomlinson just because paparazzi believed they were together when Louis was actually together with Liam outside the Project Club L.A., and C who was at the club next door) - May 15 at KDWB Radio Show in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

The rest of their program and possible date: May 16 at Kiss Concert 2015 in Mansfield, Massachusetts - May 19 at Dancing with the Stars in Los Angeles - May 30 at G-A-Y in London (rumors about Lauren and Louis Tomlinson this time, born because 5H went to Libertine nightclub with Louis and Niall) - May 31 at Britain’s Got More Talent in London - June 2 at Capital FM in Birmingham, England - June 5 at Good Morning Britain in London - June 6 at Capital FM Summertime Ball 2015 in London - June 12 at Aloha Stadium in Honolulu, Hawaii - June 14 at LA Pride 2015 - June 18 at Jimmy Kimmel Live in Los Angeles - June 20 at B96 Pepsi Summer Bash 2015 in Bridgeview, Illinois - June 23 at San Diego County Fair 2015 - 28 June at Show Of The Summer 2015 in Hershey, Pennsylvania - July 10 at Rockefeller Plaza in New York. July 15, 2015, beginning of Reflection: The Summer Tour.

June 27, 2015 Lauren turned 19, and do you guys remember the events of those days? Because I do.

On June 24, 2015, Lauren celebrated her birthday in advance at the famous sushi restaurant ‘Katsuya’. Among the guests were the girls, her mom Clara, some friends, including Jill (the same Jill/Jillian Gutowitz who worked with Zack Sang and who 5H met on April 22, 2015, at the Worldwide Radio Summit, which lasted for three days but they were present for two: 22 and 23. The same Jill who wrote the article for AfterEllen on January 25, 2016, about her experiences with women who denied their sexuality. Remember the story of Lauren Jordan, right?), and Noah Benardout (may he rest in peace). Still no Lucia, not even on the days when Lauren returned to Miami to celebrate with her family before resuming the program from the 28. As I already said, The Reflection Summer Tour began on July 15, 2015, and Lucy’s first public reappearance took place on one of the tour dates, that is, July 27 at Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

From that moment on, we saw Lucille appear on multiple occasions in hops through time. After the July 27th date, we saw her during the trip to Hawaii with Lauren and Keana in September, followed by the concert that the girls had on October 10 in the Bahamas, where they stayed with their families and friends for a few days. After the Bahamas, the mess happened between 5H because they found out about Camila’s departure from the group which initially should’ve been immediate, but for which they fought and gained another year. That, was also the time when Laucy signed their PR contract. As we know from Lauren herself, that was the worst and darkest time for her. That was the beginning of her numbness.

On October 23, they were on their way to Italy and Lauren wrote on her dark diary, the one shown to us in Episode 8 of her Attunements. On October 24, they arrived in Milan for the MTV Europe Music Awards 2015 occurred on October 25, and on October 28, in Madrid instead, there was the interview with Alyson Eckmann, the journalist Camila flirted with while Lauren was sitting right next to her.

Going forward, in November we have:

- Rumors about Lauren and Julius Dein (his friend who is a YouTube magician).

-The release of IKWYDLS including the rumors about Camila and Shawn and Michael Clifford (who was already in the picture) who were ‘vying for her’.

- Beginning of Lauren’s coming out plan which included: 1) The release of The Vamps’ album on November 23rd, that is, a week after the release of IKWYDLS, and which included the track ‘I Found A Girl’. Joe O'Neill, the manager of The Vamps, liked that famous tweet. Despite the efforts to make us believe that Bleahren (sorry for the Italian pun I made here, but ‘bleah’ in Italian is equivalent to the ‘eww’ to indicate something gross, and therefore Bleah-Ren) Brauren was real and that the girl involved was Lucille and not Camila, they’ve miscalculated since Lauren and Brad ‘dated’ in 2014 when Lucy had not yet returned into Lauren’s life. But since the album and consequently the song came out on November 23, 2015, they tried to manipulate people’s minds as usual. 2) Jill’s article that served to connect and more or less ‘confirm’ the story between this Jordan and her childhood friend, Lauren-Lucy.

- December: completion of the 7/27 album + Dina LaPolt’s entry + renegotiation of the contracts (mostly DNA’s contracts) + FIFTH HARMONY MUSIC, INC. created by LAND on December 21 to prepare for the transfer of the 5H trademark, the FIFTH HARMONY PARTNERSHIP, of which they became owners from April 27, 2016 + change of management from Faculty Management: Jared Paul and Janelle Lopez, to Maverick Management: Larry Rudolph, Dan Dymtrow, and Tara Beikae. [All things that were possible ONLY THANKS to the exit of C from the group]

- January 2016, we have Lauren and Lucrezia who came back from Colombia to then taking a road trip for Lucy’s birthday week.

- Jill’s article came out and coincidentally, by pure chance, exactly two days later, on January 27, 2016, Camila and Dinah were hacked.

- On March 9, 2016, Lauren, Normani, Andrea, Dinah, and Keana went to pierce their ears, or rather, Laurmainah pierced their ears, mama Dre and Keana just accompanied them. During her turn, Lauren asked Keana to take her phone to make a video. In the meantime, Mani was filming Lauren, and again by pure chance, Keana, who was in the heart of the frame, took Lauren’s phone as she’d asked, and both the lock screen and the home screen portrayed a picture of Lucania during a photoshoot. Same picture Lucy herself posted on Instagram on April 10th to leave no doubt.

- April 24, 2016, Coachella together.

- Luciana went with 5H in London, in May, during the promotion of the 7/27 album. (+ Camren video of May 28, 2016)

- She was present during the start of the tour in South America on June 26th (in the evening during the concert, L danced Big Bad Wolf for her, but that’s not the famous video, that was on September 5) and 27th to celebrate L’s birthday together (picture of the 27th of them in Buenos Aires).

- June 27, 2016, on L’s birthday, Jill posted a picture with L from the birthday dinner of the year before, further confirming the story of ‘Jordan’.

- August 1, the national girlfriend day, L posted a picture of her and Lucy.

- From August 12 to 21, Lucy was with them. The night after the concert on the 13th in Rochester Hills, Michigan, videos in which Lucilla appeared during Lauren Fuller’s birthday celebration at the hotel for dinner. On the 14th in Noblesville, Indiana, during Gonna Get Better and Big Bad Wolf Lauren smiled in Lucy’s direction who was in the audience. On the 18th in Virginia Beach, Virginia, a fan met Laucy in a movie theater restroom, taking a selfie with Lauren (C posted a picture of her in the dark with the words of Bad Things “don’t think that I can explain it” the same night).

- On September 4 and 5 Lucippe returned. On the 5th in Houston, Texas, the famous ‘super HD’ video took place in which Lauren danced Big Bad Wolf for Lucy, even pointing to her during her verse. [On September 6, Midland, Texas, during the Q&A, Lauren wore the same dress that Lucy was wearing to the concert the night before, and at the same time, she sat next to C and got jealous when C complimented a fan by sending her flying kisses. Ahh… The irony]

Now. Let’s move on to the part of the podcast where Lauren explains about the kiss with Lucza at her uncle and aunt’s wedding, how her aunt “super innocently” posted the pictures on Facebook that her “unreal invasive fans” found and posted, how Perez Hilton outed her to the world by posting an article with those pictures, how she did nothing for a week, and that after thinking “Ok, it happened. People know. What am I gonna do?”, she wrote that letter against Trump as her own way of coming out.

On November 4, 2016, Lauren and Lucynda did the ‘famous’ photoshoot in New Orleans called ‘Bare With Me’. Lauren flew to NOLA right after Halloween, got back to Miami to vote, then returned to New Orleans on the 10th along with her family for the wedding. Lucianna was also with her on the 10th for the rehearsal/bowling with all of Lauren’s relatives. Meanwhile Orange Trumpeter was elected on the 8th, and many celebrities were preparing to write a letter through Billboard against him and his supporters. Labels and management saw it as a perfect opportunity to get her to come out also considering how much Lauren has always been vocal on the subject, and THEY contacted Billboard to get her to participate in exchange of the exclusive of her coming out. All that was missing was the evidence to make sure that there had been no connection with Camila, and that was the reason for the kiss at the wedding on the 11th.

On November 13, the wedding photographer posted those pictures on his website, including the one of the kiss. And I’m sorry, Lolo, I love you but, really? Who are you kidding? The pictures didn’t start spreading because her ‘unreal invasive fans’ found them on her aunt’s Facebook page where she’d posted them ‘super innocently’. The pictures started spreading after the photographer posted them! And you know what’s even more funny? That to see those pictures on the website, you needed an access password. So what are you saying here, Lo? That your ‘unreal invasive fans’ were so good, to even have hacked their way into the website for pictures they didn’t even know existed? It wasn’t your team, was it? Oh, okay. My bad.

Sarcasm aside. The pictures started to spread, Perez tweeted about it on the 14th, and in the meantime Lauren had time to write the letter that was approved by the labels and sent to Billboard (on the 14th), who approved it a couple of days after it was sent (on the 16th), and which they then published it in the article two days later (on the 18th). In all of this, on November 15, 2016, the girls all went to Epic’s party. Since we know very well that most of the cases of coming out as bisexual in the industry made by a female celebrity occur in succession with the connection with a guy, that night there was the PR proposal between Typo Dolour Signal and Lauren that he obviously accepted, and in fact, he was there that night at that party too (Picture of C with a tear mark on her cheek).

Now, the icing on the cake of the Laucy’s PR: Nicole Cartolano. Nicole is a friend of Lecy’s with whom she had already worked together and who also posted pictures of Lauren on November 17 and 22, 2016, one on December 31, 2016, together with Marian Hill taken backstage after Lauren’s performance with them on the 30th, the night before, for the Snow Globe Festival in South Lake Tahoe, California, and the one of Laucy (with the piñata) on January 10, taken the same night to celebrate Lucilia’s birthday at midnight and that Lauren also used to post it for wish her a happy birthday. That was the last public interaction between the two. *Slow entry of Tympans Dollhouse Signalized in the picture from January 4, 2017, thanks to that tweet*.

On January 21, 2017, Lauren and Lucy were at the same Women’s March, but separately (single), and we haven’t seen them together anymore. LuBYE. On March 22, 2017, both ‘Bare With Me’ and the interview article Nicole did with MTV News (she confirmed that Laucy had been together by having an on-again, off-again for years and also said a lot of other bullshit like the fact that the girls were nervous because they didn’t know how their parents would’ve responded) came out. On August 13, 2018, Nicole officially apologized to Lucy for being angry with her for posting the pictures and therefore for having outed her and for having taken part in the MTV interview without their permission. There was also the screenplay made by Nicole’s mom to make everything even more true.

Bullshit on bullshit on bullshit. Number 1, Lauren herself confirmed in this podcast that her parents knew about her, and said how much she loved Lucre’s ‘I’m out and proud’ part.

Number 2, Nicole posted a preview of the pictures on March 18, 2017, so if she really wanted to stop her before the publication on the 22nd, she would’ve had time to do so.

Number 3, Lucita came out publicly on her own with that Spanish post on Instagram on November 20, 2016, saying in summary that she was anything but straight because she didn’t want to label herself (she did it years later by saying she was a lesbian).

Number 4, as Lusia also confirmed in that post where Nicole’s mom left that comment, Nicole signed a non-disclosure agreement form. If she had actually violated it without having had a release and written consent form, she would’ve been sued.

Number 5, if Luciferase really wanted to have that conversation in private with Nicole’s mom, she might very well have done so. She could’ve contacted her and answered her IN PRIVATE for real, and not via IG where EVERYONE saw and took the side of poor, poor Luckless.

Number 6, the biggest proof that shows the hypocrisy of all this, Lucasta continued to work with Nicole. Their last work dates back to November 25, 2019.

Okaay, sure… sure, because it was normal for her to continue working with the person who outed her, wasn’t it? People’s lies never cease to amaze me. For that matter, Nicole also posted a picture of their ‘adventure’ as they made their way to the photoshoot location on November 1, 2017, and continued to wish them both a happy birthday with posts every year.

And lastly, on June 6, 2020, we have the Lucerne’s video leaked (+ old pictures and videos of 5H) where she burned pictures of Lauren and of the two of them together in 2017, accompanied by the tweets occurred two days later, in which she explained that she was hacked and that she burned the pictures for a closure. Then, exactly 20 days later, that is on June 26, 2020, the PAPER Magazine article of Lauren’s interview came out. What a coincidence! In that article, Lauren explained, along with other things, that she’d been in love with her best friend for 7 years.

Lauren, honey, the maths, the maths… If according to your words you fell in love with her at 15, got together with her at 18, and broken up at 20, how can these be 7 years? It’s 5 years… And as if it wasn’t enough, still according to your words, after 1 year and 8 months (from mid-May 2015 to mid-January 2017), 2 months of which public because of the wedding pictures, of the relationship you wanted at all costs, “all in” and “now we’re gonna be in this relationship”, you broke up with her because she was really toxic, and after less than a month, you started dating an even more toxic person without the proper time to heal?? How do you expect me to believe you? And I’m putting aside the fact that I know they’re both PR relationships. I’m speaking out of logic. How? How can I believe you? How does this make any sense?

Personally, yes, I believe Lauren and Lucy have a past. Lauren’s first kiss was when she was 13 (8th grade) with her boyfriend at the time, Dominic, but I think Lucy was her first kiss with a girl. And I think it happened when she was 15, but in 2011, so long before Lucy left. Lauren dated Paul Martinez from June 4, 2011, to the end of July (around 23/24). From after Paul, until her very first PR at X-Factor, Keaton Stromberg, she was single. I truly believe that before she met Camila, Lauren and Lucy did everything Lauren said. I really believe Lauren experimented with her in secret, but I don’t believe in anything else she said at all.

This is my opinion. And in my opinion, Lauren always knew she was queer, and Lucy was the first with whom she could experience the attraction and the feelings towards girls she had always felt and concealed deep inside herself. But they were friends. Just friends. Friends who messed around and experimented together in secret given the environment that surrounded them. Lucy then returned to live in Puerto Rico and they simply drifted apart because of the distance and Lauren’s busy schedule with 5H. When she came back into Lauren’s life, they rekindled their friendship. Just that. Also because, Camila, hello? Camila entered Lauren’s heart the same year Lucy left and never get out of it. Not to mention that Lucy had a girlfriend, Sarah Scott Narcise, before getting together with Nicole Marie Rendón in March 2017. I honestly think that Lucy was also giving advice to Lauren about her relationship with Camila, and I also think that now they really aren’t friends anymore for something we don’t know about, even though I have my theories… But anyway. Lauren needed a beard to be able to come out, Lucy needed visibility for her modeling career and, at the time, also for her music which, however, never saw the light of day. The labels approved because they would’ve done anything to keep their chosen one out of the gay light. Camila also approved. Boom, PR.

I don’t believe all the other bullshit she said during the podcast. Because if they’d been true, they would’ve made logical sense. A sense they’ve been trying, and failing, to give for years. If Lauren really didn’t want to come out, she wouldn’t have done a photoshoot with Lucy a week before the wedding with the intention of using that same photoshoot to come out. She would not have kissed Lucy in a public place during the wedding pictures in front of a professional photographer hired for the event, knowing full well that those pictures would eventually have been published by the bride and groom, her aunt and uncle, and the photographer himself. If she wanted so badly a picture of her kissing her girlfriend, drunk or not, she would’ve taken her fucking phone and take selfies. It wasn’t the fans’ or Perez’s fault. It was the management that was following the plan.

And I’m supposed to, what exactly? Forget all these things, things that have been proofed multiple times in the past, because Lauren, or Camila, or management, or labels, or their contracts, must continue with their stupid narrative? Because Camila must continue to look straight and continue to look in love with Shalt Menstruated because the señorito is about to release his documentary and his album? Because Camila’s movie is about to come out? Because Lauren’s own album is about to be released and because the subject matter of her female-pronounced songs must only and exclusively be related to Lucy? (Although I think her album will be out next year. I think a song with female pronunciation is coming out soon. And no, I’m sorry, I don’t think it’s Burning)

Guys, come on…

Think about it. She used Lucy as a shield to tell part of her story with Camila that happened in 2014. It all fits. Even the story told through songs from Camila’s cocky POV, including ‘Like Friends Do’, ‘Eyes on You’, ‘Cleopatra’, ‘Leave for Good’, and a couple from her last album like ‘Should’ve Said It’ and ‘Feel It Twice’.

I understand why many of you have been hurt by this podcast and by Lauren herself. I understand why a lot of you are angry about the things she said. I see you, I understand, I really do. And everyone is free to feel whatever they want, I’m not saying otherwise. But I really don’t understand why you’re hiding or why you’re abandoning the ship. Authors who don’t wanna write anymore. Accounts closed. Names changed. Hope lost. This, all this, makes me angry and hurt. Because you fell for it. And you know why you fell for it? Because Lauren changed her approach. Leaving aside the part just before when she said: “Even when I talk about it, and I don’t talk about it because I’ve learned to just ignore it because-” and there, I swear I had to pause because I burst out laughing, and I was like: “Bitch, you’re the one who pulled this out of your ass out of nowhere right this second, what are you saying?”. She went on by saying, and she knows us so well because of this: “I just chose to ignore it at a certain point because getting angry to them would it mean that it was real and validate it more for them”.

And it’s true. This non-angry approach of hers, worked like a charm. Lauren’s older, she’s more mature than before. Although she was very nervous, she managed to explain everything calmly. The fact that she was emotional and almost cried in many parts, it really gave an extra boost to what she tried to sell. And I’m not saying she faked almost crying. Hell, no. That was super true and hard for her. I’m saying though, that it’s really easy to manipulate people’s minds, and Lauren used her real pain, the real suffering she has gone through over the years to tell this charade. That’s why it seemed so real. And I’m supposed to fall for that shit just because that’s what they’ve wanted for years, right? Convenient much?

Guys, please. You’re smarter than that, use those beautiful brains. For example, the fact that Lauren said: “I was queer, but she was not”, wrong as you want it to be, and “Camila and I were just really good friends at that time”, yeah, sure, Jan. Doesn’t the very fact that she used the past tense make you realize that it was done to completely detach herself from her IN THE PRESENT? Everything she said was for something. Everything had a purpose. And the goal is always the same. Make us stop shipping ‘em. Putting a label on C only served the Shoestoremila purpose, nothing else. And those were words that came out of the mouth of the one who says she doesn’t like labeling people. The same one who was pissed that someone had outed her before she wanted to. Do you really think she’s that hypocritical?

The fact that she put all the CS in the same box, especially when she talked about the Daddy situation, WAS DONE ON PURPOSE. She couldn’t fail to generalize because their purpose is, and will be for a long time to come, to kill Camren. That means the whole fandom. Not just invasive elements. But really all the CS. The purpose was to make us feel guilty. The purpose is to make us accept that it was never real, and since we care about them, to make us continue to support them individually and not as a couple, even though she knows that the real CS do it regardless. This, is called manipulation, guys.

Think about everything else too. The inconsistency. The holes in her story. The lack of explanations. And the fact that during the story of how it all happened, she jumped from one theme to another and therefore managed to deflect and not completely finish one before moving on to the other, doesn’t it make you understand that she didn’t want to give too many details? And when does that usually happen? She knew we’d analyze her. She knew she couldn’t say too much. When she talked about Lucy, she knew that WE know she was talking about Camila, and with too many details, it would also have been obvious to the others because WE would’ve pointed it out to everyone. I mean, it’s obvious enough in itself, imagine if she’d fed us more information that we would’ve compared in the timeline.

Please, guys. I know that it feels like something’s changed, but it’s not. It’s really not. I’m appealing to all of you. Open your eyes. Reason. I know many of you still have conflicting emotions and feelings, and that’s okay. If you’re still upset, if you still wanna cry, then cry. Do whatever helps you feel better because, especially after the haters have come to bite your asses, you’re entitled to feel the way you do. But please, please, don’t give up. If you give up, you just play their game. You just do them a favor. You guys had invested so much of your time, so much of your passion, so much of yourselves to just, give up. Think of all we’ve been through, especially those who’ve been in the fandom for years. Think about how happy Camren makes you. They were there for you when you needed them. When you were going through hard times. I know they’ve helped a lotta people.

And think about this too. Lauren herself said at the beginning of the podcast: “The news and the media are constantly spinning narratives for your clicks so they can make money”. And what do you think this podcast was for? It’s always the same shit. Have you not noticed how the very same news and media have ALL talked about them? Didn’t you notice how My Oh My magically returned into the charts? How 50ft surpassed the 9 million streams on Spotify? And you still have doubts?

This is instead for the CS who get often angry about their actions. I personally think it’s pointless to blame Lauren and Camila for every single thing they do that has been PLANNED for them. Especially Camila as far as Shonas is concerned. There’s a pattern here too. Lauren had her light PR with Lucia. Lauren then had her heavy PR with Typic Dole Sight while Camila had a light one with Eatchu. And now Camila’s having a heavy one. C’s one is heavier simply because they’re much more famous than PRen (Tyren) were. So, guys, be patient. There’s really no point in getting angry and blaming them. It’s a waste of energy. It’s useless to blame them if they’re gonna continue to do so over the years to come. They’re just still trying to get past their original contracts and survive in the industry at the same time. Sooner or later, I HOPE, they will be free to tell the truth or the truth will come out on its own.

Well, I’m done. Jeez, that was long, wasn’t it? But I hope it was worth it. I hope I’ve cleared your heads a little bit and instilled some hope again. I also hope I made you smile with all those nicknames and my sarcasm. I especially hope that wherever you are, you’re having a good day, and if not, then I hope it has improved at least a little bit with this post. And thank you so much, Stuck. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to use my voice for the first time publicly/virtually. You, above all, keep on being one of the lights and NEVER let them turn you off. I love you guys. Stay safe. Stay strong. Stay patient. With love, F.

I leave you with these two pearls:

Number 1. Lauren said something else too. She said: “Don’t trust me. Go research. Go look this shit up yourself”. I know she said it for a completely different context, but I found it really funny given the situation.

Number 2. This is a small scene that automatically created itself in my head as soon as I finished listening to Wonder. I titled it: The sad and short story of the making of ‘Wonder’.

Enjoy:

*on the phone*

Shawl Mendicant: “Hey, buddy. I know you were a huge Fifth Harmony fan and I know you love my fake girlfriend, so I was thinking… could you help me? You know, I need her to stay relevant, but to do that, I also need to release music and completely take all the credit from other people because, you know, the most I do is change a sentence or two in my style to make people think that I wrote all my songs.”

Sam Smith: “………okay?”

Shawnita Menorrhagia: “So, I was wondering, can I copy your homework? You can totally refuse if you want to, but I’m hoping to appeal to the love you have for 5H and Camila, and maybe help a friend out?”

Sam Smith: “Yeah, sure, you can copy my homework. Anything for my girls. Just, change it up a bit so it doesn’t sound too obvious you just copied it.”

Shonas Mended: “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. Thanks, man.” - *ends the call*

Sam Smith looking at the phone with an incredulous expression and one hand over his heart: “I came out as a non-binary, you insensitive asshole!”

Shoes Mentionable from the other room: “Cameeela! He said yes!” *reaching then Camila and Lauren in the living room where Lauren is lying with her head resting on Camila’s legs who’s running her fingers through her hair with one hand and holding the book that she’s reading with the other one* “You were right, all I had to do was mention you girls.”

Lauren chuckling and continuing to pet Cleo who’s lying at the foot of the couch with one hand: “Told you”, to then adding: “And please, I know you’re excited because of the news but keep your voice down”, continuing to caress Sofi’s head who’s sleeping on top of her with the other one.

Shapeless Mentality: “Oh, sorry.”

Camila without looking away from her book: “Sam’s really nice. I’m sure they would’ve said yes even without the need of mentioning us.”

Lauren: “Hmm, I’m not so sure about that, babe. Yes, they’re very nice, but we’re powerful in their minds, so it was an added incentive for them to say yes.”

Shaved Mentholated: “Who are they? Weren’t we talking about Sam?”

Camila who was giggling at her girlfriend’s words:

Lauren:

Sinu from the kitchen:

Cleo who was nibbling her toy:

Even Thunder, Leo, and Eugene from outside into the yard:

*the end*

Chon Mendable: ‘Wonder’ - Sam Smith: ‘One Last Song’

____

OMG I am speechless. I’m really still digesting this whole story because it’s amazing but I wanted to start by saying hello to you and telling you my name, my name is Marite. It is a pleasure to meet you dear friend. I don’t want to write too much because your words are much more important than mine but I wanted to thank you for trusting me and my blog to tell me your story. That side of the story that, being new and not having been a harmonizer from the beginning, I never learned. I intended to ask for more information about Laucy’s Timeline but what you have told is a gem. A gem that shows that the bastards of the industry cannot fool the fans because we pay attention to everything and it is not easy for us to fall for their shit. I think the power we fans have is so great that if we all came together, we could bring down this whole fucking fake empire that they have created. That said, Laucy’s story is surprising. As planned and how each person involved had to do their part on the chessboard. Incredible. Now that you tell me that story, I think it fits the one I wrote in my once upon a time post. Sure, yours is true and has everything that mine doesn’t. I have tried to keep this blog open for all who wish to come and air their ideas, their thoughts, their tea. And you dear friend, you have been one of the best so far. You’ve given us that support that the fandom so badly needed and I really appreciate it. I also appreciate your humor, the nicknames have been so hilarious and I’m still laughing. Thank you for daring to tell this part of the story and reopen the can of worms of a PR that right now resurfaces with that Lauren interview. With a purpose, it’s true. And something tells me that we will see much more very soon. Thank you for your support, my friend. And you know, you have my blog at your disposal for whatever you need. And if you need to talk or anything else. I greatly appreciate that we can continue to keep this ship afloat among ourselves. Among a group of intelligent people who have been hurt by someone we have always loved very much even though we know the reason for all that. We can’t give up now because if we do it like you say they will win and I personally don’t plan to indulge them in that. Thank you very much for all dear friend and I hope you have a nice day. I send you a hug and I hope you stay safe.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS

@ziasaph

Prompt: When Roman and Y/N have a little phone teasing, Roman is left with a problem to solve...with his bare hands.

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18, masturbation(male),cursing,explicit thoughts,smut(implied)

Notes: This is my first time ever trying to “recreate” what would go through a man’s mind while masturbating( I don’t have a wiener, so you know, this might not be 100% accurate) this is written in Roman’s POV only. Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Fuck me...” I whispered as I adjusted my bulge for the 4th time. I just finished a phone call with Y/N, and we kinda had a little phone teasing so now,here I am making my way to my locker room with a very painful hard on that I couldn’t wait to take care of.

As soon as my eyes met the locker room door I sighed in relief, until I heard

“Yo Uce,hold up!”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I barked under my breath

“What up Uce?” My cousin Jimmy happily smiled at me

“Good,good...” I dumbly replied

“You ok there?”

“No I’m not ok Jimmy,what to you want?”

“Is this because you lost your match? Uce, you gotta learn how to lose man”

“This is not because of my match ok? It’s another thing that’s bothering me”

“Oh...Is it because Y/N hasn’t come back yet? I know you love her and all, but ever since she left, you got all blue and shit... I’m aware of your obsession towards her,but she has her own life problems to deal with you know? You can’t get all bitchy every time she needs to leave man...” he vaguely said

Y/N took a one month license so she could solve some problems regarding her family business, and ever since she left my mood has gotten worst and worst, and I still got 8 more fucking days ahead of me before she comes back! The racional part of my brain understands and agrees with what my cousin’s saying, but the other primal part of me just wants to punch his face and tell him to shut the fuck up.

He doesn’t understand the connection that Y/N and I have, she is my other half as cheesy as that sounds. I’ve never had believed that sort of stuff UNTIL the day I met her. From that day on I knew I had found my one and only. So you can’t really blame me for being in such a shitty mood, I was left without my sunlight for a whole fucking month, so yeah, I was gonna whine about it.

“Are you done,mom?” I said with an annoyed tone

“I’m just trying to help Uce”

“Yeah I know man” I sighed “I’m sorry is just that I gotta take care of something..” I vaguely said

“Ok, I’m not gonna keep you long, I was just gonna ask you if you would like to go out to th-“

“No,thanks. I have other plans” I quickly said before he could finish

“Really? And what possibly great plan is that,that you gonna miss a night out with your favorite cousin?”

“You really wanna know?”

“Yeah! And it’s better be a good plan for you to dismiss me like that”

“I’m gonna take a shower, take care of a very painful boner, jack off while I think about my girlfriend, then I’m gonna head back to my hotel room where a nice,big and comfortable bed waits for me...and maybe jack off again looking at some pictures of Y/N. Happy now?”

He looked at me in disbelief

“So you’re dismissing my invitation for a night out so you can jack off? How old are you? 14?” He started laughing

“Is that all Jimmy?” I made sure my voice demonstrated how annoyed I was.

“Yeah, yeah..go ahead Mr. Puberty go do your business...even tho you won’t need to take care of it yourself..” he barely whispered

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing...here I’ll even open the door for you..just so your hands don’t get too tired!” He said mocking me “Milady, please” He bowed down and was now 100% laughing at me

“Fuck you Jimmy” I muttered under my breath closing and locking my locker room door.

I got out of my ring attire faster than a demon from church and made my way to the shower, while I waited for the water to heat up, I begin to stroke myself lazily while I thought about Y/N and the last time we were together. I got under the shower and remembered her body, the way it felt against mine, her breasts and how they are a perfect handful size, how soft her skin is (specially her boobs), how delicate her nipples feel against my lips.

Her sexy love handles,fuck I love those, which is why I don’t really get it why she hates it so much and wants to get rid of them so bad? I love how they feel when I tightly grip them on my hands whenever I’m holding her hips in place while fucking her from behind. My dick got harder just to think about it..Fuck I wish she was here!

I love her ass, I was always a tits lover until I saw that ass! Then I was officially converted into an ass lover. I just love to touch it, grip it, bite it, I love to watch it bounce when she rides me, I love to kiss it, spank it, rub my bulge against it..

*I begin to stroke my cock harder*

And fuck it..I love to fuck her ass.

But not as much as I love to fuck her pussy, nothing compares to the feeling of my cock buried deep inside of her tight pussy, I could cum just by remembering the vision of my dick sliding in and out of that sweet pussy..MY pussy, that belongs to ME! Fuck I just wish she was here, I would eat her out like a mad man.

I love to go down on her, seeing her eyes roll to the back of her head as I hungrily devour her..seeing how she squirms underneath me, moaning..begging for me to fuck her, how incredible she tastes...

But I also love when she sucks my dick.

The sight of her, on her knees, with a mouthful of cock while she looks up to meet my gaze.. FUCK ME isn’t that a beautiful sight?! Her lips all swollen and red from sucking me, her hands stroking my cock while she looks up and give me one of her satisfied smiles..so fucking gorgeous. Even more gorgeous when she chokes on my dick, making me slide all the way down until I hit the back of her throat just so she can pull back, gasping for air, while she giggles amused about how far she had taken.

With all of those sweet memories I came on my hand, giving me some sort of relief (at least for now). But it wasn’t the same thing tho, it wasn’t her and I NEEDED her!

God I love that woman, and I just fucking miss her, I just wish that she was here..

I made my car ride back to the hotel thinking about everything that I missed about her. I missed her scent, her voice, her smile, her hugs, her kisses, the way she likes to stroke my hair to help her sleep, her stealing all of my gray sweatpants just so I couldn’t “advertise” my package to other women, our late night conversations that were sometimes meaningful others meaningless, our make out sessions, lazy morning sex, horror movies marathon, the way she argued with one of the characters and told them they were “so dumb” and she “wished they would just get killed already”, the way she comforted me, the way I comforted her...

I opened the door to my hotel room, dragged myself to the sofa and was so deep in thoughts that I didn’t even noticed that the lights were on.

“Should I come back later?” The voice said in quite an amused tone.

*Wait..I know that voice!*

I turned my head to my left side so I could meet the owner of that voice, the one I had waited 3 long weeks to have by my side again

“Y/N” I couldn’t help but ran towards her, grab her tightly in my arms and kiss her so intensely that she almost couldn’t breath.

“Ro” she giggled “Baby, as much as I love this affectionate side of yours, you’re kinda making it difficult for me to breath” She chuckled

“Sorry, it’s just that I missed you so fucking much! You have no idea what hell I’ve been through those 3 weeks without you” I said as I gave her light pecks all over her lips,neck and face.

“Aww Rome.. I missed you too love! That’s why I decided to make you a surprise come back, everything solved before expected so I didn’t need to be there anymore so I decided to come back to my home,you!” She smiled

“I am your home,just like you’re mine! Those 3 weeks without you were a nightmare!”

“Oh I know! Jimmy told me you were being a little bitch and if I didn’t came back soon he would whoop your ass!” She was laughing uncontrollably

“That fucker...he knew you were coming back today didn’t he?” I asked remembering his little comment about me not needing to jack off at the hotel.

“Yep! He helped me with everything. Why?”

“Oh nothing, it’s just that he asked if I wanted to go out with him somewhere after the show and I declined saying I had other stuff to do”

“Like what?” She asked slightly confused

“Oh you know, like jack off in the shower thinking about you..”

“Did you?” She looked at me with that vixen look on her face

“What do you think baby girl? After our little teasing on the phone, you got me all worked up so I had to think about you while I took care of business with my own hands” Which where now roaming down to grab her ass.

“That sounds fun..why don’t you tell me everything you thought about huh?” She deviously smirked at me

“Oh baby, I might as well just show it to you” With that I picked her up in my arms and made my way towards the bed. I was going to show her everything that went through my mind those 3 weeks.

And fuck,she better be ready, ‘cuz I got all night long..

[brashierc]

Baby Brash

July 13th, his 20th birthday. That night was the reason why you were here today. If that night wouldn’t have happened you wouldn’t have peed on a stick this morning, it wouldn’t have been positive and you wouldn’t be sitting on the bed at your OBGYN’s clinic awaiting for her results. 

You’ve been best friends with Connor since you both were 7. That was 13 years of friendship. 13 years of listening to him go on about photography, 13 years of supporting him and his dreams no one else really supported when he first got started in high school. 

It was also 13 years of being asked how long you two had been in a relationship. 

Girls and boys can be best friends without falling in love. Or well, that’s what you always said to everyone when they asked. You’d been in love with Connor since you were 17, but you knew he’d never feel the same, so you kept that feeling pushed way back into your brain.

Connor was there for you through every boyfriend, just like you were for his girlfriends. The heartbreak and the first time discussions after the fact. 

“Alright,” The Doctor walks in after tapping on the wooden door with her knuckle twice. “So your positive was correct, you are pregnant.” 

You sighed, shoulders sinking. “Really?” 

“Yep, really really pregnant.” She smiles, handing you a few brochures. “Let’s go over your options.” 

You look up with wide eyes, horror running through your veins and emotions. 

“Let’s not, thanks Doc, but I’m already attached to this kid, and if you knew the Dad you would be too.” 

She smiles, nodding but telling you to take the brochures just in case. 

She refers you to one of her colleagues who’s an Obstetrician with her practice and can take you through your pregnancy and birth. 

You take the information she gave you and leave with a small smile and a polite wave goodbye to her front office receptionist. Once you’re back in your car you let the new totally settle in. 

You were having a baby, with Connor, at age 19 and 20. Super cool. 

On Connor’s birthday everything went a little crazy. Shawn threw a rager, wanting to celebrate his newest addition to his team, and his friend who was turning the big 2 0. He flew you out to where they were so you could be there to celebrate and surprise Connor.

Everyone went a little crazy, everyone. 

Brian was so blacked out that he took Alessia back to his room with him, forgot that he invited her in, and called Shawn from the bathroom freaking out that she’d followed him home. (Even though we were all in the same hotel) 

Shawn was the only one that didn’t go hard. Knowing he had shows and other obligations like filming music videos and meeting up with Chance the Rapper. He supervised, and not well, but had a blast watching everyone be stupid and make fools of themselves. 

Connor was a clingy needy drunk, so throughout the night he just became more and more glued to your side. He hadn’t seen you in months, and missed you so much. It all started when he wanted to dance to the slow songs with you, hands on your hips, holding you close. You fell into his embrace, missing being held in such a way, and feeling so safe with Connor. He planted a few kisses to your neck, and one just behind your ear learning very quickly that that was your weak spot. 

After you let out a shaky moan of his name, tucking your fingers into his hair, you were a goner. You both quickly found your way back to his room, falling on the bed nakedly exploring the other between the sheets. 

By morning? You both swore to never speak of it again, pretend like nothing happened, and move on. Everything was normal, it literally was like nothing happened. He still picked on you, you still gave him shit in front of the guys, but you both were still there for the other in ways no one else could be. 

You clicked on his contact; ‘Bri’s lil bitch C David Brash” 

Brian really changed Connor’s name in your phone to the best thing you’d ever seen, you wouldn’t dare change it. 

“Whattup?” He answered on the third ring, and suddenly, you’re emotional. 

“Hey,” You choke out, looking around trying to distract your brain.

“What’s wrong?” His side of the phone shuffles, and becomes marginally quieter.

“Nothing,” You whisper, “What are you doing?”

“I’m talking to you, tell me what’s wrong?” 

“It’s nothing Con.” 

“You’re upset though, I can hear it.” 

“When do you come home again?” 

“I come home next week, I have to meet my counselor and then register for classes. I get into town on Monday, and I leave Friday.” 

You nod, knowing full well he can’t see you. “Can we meet on Monday?”

You need to tell him, and you won’t keep this a secret from him longer than you have too.

“Um yeah, I fly in at like 8, wanna meet for coffee and breakfast or something?” 

“Yeah perfect.” 

“Okay…..? Ready to tell me what’s wrong yet?” He asks.

You sigh, “I should let you go, you’re probably busy.” 

“No, hey,” He protests. “I wanna talk, I miss you.” 

You smile, insides running warm when you hear his voice say those words. “I miss you too Baby Brash.” 

You can hear him sigh and you can practically see him rolling his eyes. “So you watched the newest video?” 

“Of course I did, got your post notifications on.” 

“No you don’t.”

“No you’re right, I don’t, I have Shawn’s on.” 

At this he laughs, like a snort and everything and it makes you feel good, to be able to get him to laugh like that again, to hear that laugh. 

“Brashier, we gotta go!” Brian yells at him in the background.

“You’re literally standing behind me, why you gotta yell?” 

“Because I felt like pissing you off.” Brian snickers. “Who you on the phone with? Gots a girlyfriend?” Something must happen on Connor’s side of the phone because suddenly all you can hear is boys yelling. 

“Connor that’s the fourth girl you’ve been on the phone with today!” 

“There is no hot sex going on over here!”

“PASS THE WEED MAN!” 

“Shut the fuck up!” Connor’s voice is back, “Jesus it’s just Y/n, could you…?” 

“But we wanna say hi!” Shawn and Brian whine. 

You giggle and blush a little at the attention. 

Connor shuffles the phone, and then you can barely hear him, he’s really muffled but you make it out. “She’s upset about something, so could you fucking leave for a minute. I was getting her to talk and then you fuckers walked in.” A few seconds later and he’s back crystal clear. “Okay they left, you still there Honey?” 

“You didn’t need to kick them out.” 

“But I wanna talk to you.” 

“They just wanted to say hi.” 

“But you’re my best friend.” He whines, “They’d steal all your attention.” 

“You need to go, I’ll see you next week okay?” 

“Okay, love you kid.” He says softly.

“Love you too Brash.” 

**

He walks in, looking all nerdy cute, face down into his phone. 

iMessage from Bri’s lil bitch C David Brash: Im here where u is

“If you ever looked up from your phone you’d know I’m here too Bitch.” You say from your table, laughing when he jumps and looks over at you. 

“You scared the shit out of me.” He laughs, smiling really wide when you stand and give him a big hug. “Fuck I missed you Kid.” He sighs into your neck, letting your scent relax his stressed out mind.

“Missed you too.” 

 He takes the seat across from you, thanking you for the coffee you already had ordered and sat in front of his seat on the table. He takes a sip as you take a deep breath and shut your eyes to give yourself that last push of encouragement. 

“Connor?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m pregnant.” You blurt. 

It’s then that you realize your eyes are still closed, opening them one at a time to see his reaction. It’s comical almost, the sight of him, jaw dropped, eyes bugging, body frozen. 

You give it a moment, a second to really settle into his brain, you needed to do the same when you found out. Hell, you’re still doing that. 

He clears his throat, shakes his head a bit, but his eyes continue to flare out at you. 

“Excuse me?” He croaks. 

“I’m pregnant,” You nod, watching him nod with you. “And it’s yours.” 

He hums, and continues to stare at you. You take a sip of your decaf coffee, wincing at the weird taste. 

“Fuck man, I don’t know if I can handle 9 months of decaf, that shit is gross as hell.” 

This seems to snap Connor out of whatever daze he was in. 

“You’re being real right now?” He looks around, “Is Brian here filming me? Is this a prank or something? You got me, you got my reaction, turn it off now.” 

You sigh, worried he would think something like that. You just sit there, staring at him.

“You’re being real?!?” He says with persistence in his voice, leaning closer to you. 

“That night we swore to never speak of again? Well, we’ll be talking for at least the next 18 years.” You shrug.

He’s still in shock, just staring at you with a glazed over glance. You just nod and smile a little at him, trying to coax him through his shock.

“I-” He gapes, “Um, we...I...condom!” 

You giggle, shaking your head at him while rolling your eyes. “Really? That’s what you’re gonna do? Blurt ‘condom’ out like it’ll fix everything?” 

“But I used one!” He’s becoming defensive. Snapping at you in ways he’s done in the past when he’s stressed to the brim and can’t control his emotions. You can count the amount of times snapped at you on one hand. 

“They’re only 98% effective, if that, Connor. Or maybe it broke or something. It happened, and I’m pregnant.” 

“No! We can’t, a baby?” 

You take a deep breath, trying to tell yourself that he’s just in shock and that he’s gonna be happy about this, someday. He doesn’t mean the way he’s reacting right now. 

“How are you calm right now?” He asks in shrill. 

“I don’t know Connor, life happens. It’s not perfect but we’ll figure it out.” You shrug, raising your voice a little to match his level.

“Fucking shit,” He tugs at his hair, face grimancing as he groans. 

You sigh, grabbing your purse, collecting your phone and coffee and stand to leave. His head whips up when you stand, and he watches as you straighten out your shorts before starting to walk away.

“No, don’t go.” He pleads.

“Talk to me when this settles Connor. I can’t be here to watch you freak out. My hormones are all sorts of fucked up right now and I’m trying to stay positive about this whole thing but your reaction isn’t helping.” 

He gets up and follows you out of the coffee shop, racing to meet you at your car before you can leave. 

“Wait, talk to me, please.” He blocks your door so you can’t close it. 

You look up, tears in your eyes that tear his heart apart. “We really did turn into Ross and Rachel huh? Just like everyone said throughout high school. Except we won’t end up together, we’ll always be the Ross and Rachel before they got together.” 

He shakes his head, “I’m your lobster.”

**

Connor sits on your couch three days later. This was the first chance he’d been able to actually come over, any other conversations have been over the phone or text message since your meeting at the coffee shop. 

It’s kind of awkward, the both of you sitting in silence as you try to not bring up the elephant in the room. 

“I’m sorry,” You clear your throat, wincing as you lean forward and start this conversation. “I’m sorry that I up and left you on Monday. That wasn’t cool. I dropped a big ass bomb on you, something we would have never expected in a million years, and then just got up and left you alone. My hormones are whacked out right now but that’s not an excuse. So I’m sorry for being a shitty friend and making you go through that shock alone.” 

“Hey,” He shakes his head, turning towards you on the couch, scooting closer. “Don’t be sorry. I was kind of being a jackass. I shouldn’t have flipped out like that.” 

You sigh, smiling up at him. “I missed you, a lot.” 

His hand falls on top of yours, fingers intertwining. “I missed you so much, you have no idea.” He sighs, letting his eyes rake over you for a moment, imagining what you’ll look like with a baby bump. “How the hell am I supposed to leave for tour?” 

“Just go, I’m not due until May. You’ll be back in December, that’s plenty of time.” 

“You’re pregnant, I want to be here for appointments, picking out and setting up the crib, cravings, all of it!” 

You smile, reaching over and caressing his cheek. “Then talk to Shawn, sit down with Cez, explain it to Brian because he’ll lose his shit if you leave him without a solid reason behind it. We’ll figure it out, and make do.” You shrug.

He nods, leaning into your hand a little. “You always make everything better.” 

“That’s because I know you Connor David,” You tap his cheek twice, “I know how to handle you.” 

He grins, rolling his eyes before flopping back into the corner of your couch he’s claimed as his. “Have you told your mom yet?” He asks, throwing your fluffy white and black throw blanket over his lap. 

“No,” You sigh, kicking your feet up and relax across from him on your sectional. He smirks as you take a breath, reaching over and grabbing your feet to give you a foot massage. “What are you doing?” 

“Gotta get used to pampering you, might as well get a head start.” He murmurs. “Are you scared to tell your mom?”  

“I mean not really. It’s not the ideal situation I was hoping for when I thought about having kids. But like, I can’t complain. I’m honored to have your kid Con, I think I got lucky when it comes to the baby daddy part of this.” 

He tilts his head, looking over at you with a blush on his cheeks. 

“I guess you could say I got pretty lucky with the baby mama part.” He mutters, watching you from under his lashes, grinning when you roll your eyes and throw your head back to hide the apparent blush forming across your cheeks.

**

Your guest bedroom that once used to be your small library and office area has now been bombarded with camera gear, a full sized bed covered in basic grey sheets and a black comforter.

Connor spoke with Shawn and Cez the first chance he had when he got back to tour. He explained the situation, as awkward and unexpected it is, and expressed his need to be home more for you and his unborn child.

Both were very understanding to him and his needs, granting him a week off a month ensuring that he’d still be able to get enough footage but also time at home. It also gave Shawn and the crew a moment of peace and not having to worry about cameras so much, not that Connor is like the crazy paps. 

But now that Connor will be home once a month it made sense that he move into your spare room instead of having to stay with his parents or pay for a place he really wouldn’t see all that often. It was the perfect set up, to be there and help you when you need it. 

You two were still adjusting to living together, or with another human (of the different sex). 

You walked into the apartment from class, stopping short when the first thing you saw in your kitchen was Connor, in only his black Calvins.

“Bro,” You shield your eyes setting your backpack on your bar stool, “Can you wear pants?” 

Connor looks over at the sound of your voice, a slice of cheese between his fingers, munching on a bite. He looks down, and then back up to you holding a hand over your eyes. 

“I’m in boxers, I’m not naked.” 

“No one wants to see your dick though,” You shake your head, grinning as you say, “Been there, done that.” 

He chuckles, leaning closer to you and peeling your hands away from your eyes so you can see his smug smile. “You weren’t complaining then.” 

Your jaw drops and you blush as he raises an eyebrow at you. “Well,” You stutter, “I mean,” He smiles, getting the best reaction out of you. “Shut up, go put clothes on!” You smack his arm shooing him to his room. 

**

You both were getting really good and creative with ways to hiding your pregnancy. The only people who knew were the team, and family. Not even friends from your high school knew.

The issue with hiding this was the fact that Connor was gaining a lot of attention from Shawn’s fans. You didn’t blame them, no matter what brought them to become a fan of his, it at least brought more attention to his work and was getting him that much more popular. This just meant that you had to take hiding your pregnancy to a whole new level.

For a while you were able to just wear some big sweatshirts to cover the smallest bump you had. When sweatshirts weren’t able to work so much you then resorted to really flowy shirts and a big purse you could always swing in front of your belly. 

There was even one time that Connor and the whole crew were in town. They had invited you to lunch since no one had seen you since Connor told everyone. But at the end of lunch the manager came to tell the group that the paparazzi had followed Shawn and his own lunch date. 

You were panicked while everyone just rolled their eyes and grumbled about how someone had probably called them so pictures of Shawn and his date could be taken. You looked to Connor and gulped as he laughed with Brian about a meme he was showing him. 

“Y/n, you okay?” Shawn asked from across the table.

He was always so kind, and it boggled your mind how he could always see everyone, even when there were thousands in front of him, he could see everyone and notice every mood change.

Connor looked over after Shawn’s question and noticed your worried expression.

“Um, I’m,” You looked down at your shirt that very clearly showed off your small baby bump. “We haven’t told-”

“Oh shit,” Connor mumbled now noticing what you were referring too. “Fuck they’re gonna get pictures of us.” He looked to Shawn.

“I totally forgot,” Shawn rubs his forehead. “I’m so sorry you guys.” 

“Do you have anything to like hide behind?” Brian asked.

“No, I didn’t bring a jacket because it’s so nice out.” You shake your head. 

“Actually,” Connor cringes, looking at Josiah. “Do you still have your pocket reflector?” 

Josiah nods, handing it to Connor. 

“We’ll head out first, and then you guys go with Brian and maybe they’ll won’t pay you much attention. We’ll take a walk down the block or something.” Shawn stands, giving you an apologetic smile before walking out with his date.

You look to Connor and Brian as Connor is unfolding the reflector that creates a decent sized circle. You just laugh out loud when he offers it to you. 

“What?” He asks.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” You laugh taking it from him. “It definitely doesn’t look like I’m hiding anything.” You’re sarcastic tone makes the boys chuckle. 

“Here,” Brian hands Connor an old disposable camera. “Pretend like you’re taking my picture as we walk to the car so it looks like she’s actually using it.” 

You just laugh harder and so do the boys at this elaborate plan to cover your pregnant belly. 

** 

At 5 months your little one is now starting to move. You’re really uncomfortable at the moment, in the stages of dealing with pregnancy and the symptoms. 

Tonight is no different, if anything, it’s worse. Baby Brash (literally) has the hiccups and it’s causing your belly to move every 30 seconds or so. So sleeping at the moment isn’t a reality. Finding a comfortable spot to fall asleep isn’t a reality either.

iMessage from Papa 👶: Stop moving, I can hear your bed springs, lord help our child when you get laid.

You rolled your eyes at Connor’s message. He changed his name in your phone when he finally saw what you had him under. He even changed your name in his phone to ‘Mama 👶’ with the baby emoji. 

iMessage to Papa👶 : Tell your child to stop moving so much then

You watched as he read the message, but frowned a little when he didn’t start responding. You jumped when your bedroom door creaked open, revealing Connor in a worn white t shirt and plaid pajama pants. 

“Hey you,” He crawls into your bed, shuffling under your covers with you. “Hey Kid,” He smiles, leaning down to plant a small kiss to your belly. “Stop moving in there so Mama can go to sleep. She’s keeping me up because you’re keeping her up.”

You roll your eyes again, glaring at him. “Really?”

“You told me to tell the kid.” He shrugs. 

His hands have found their way to your belly, rubbing soothing circles in hopes of calming his baby down and lulling you to sleep. 

You sigh and let your eyes flutter close.

“What hurts tonight?” He whispers.

“My hips and back.” 

“Roll to your side for me.” 

You do as told, and moan a little when he starts massaging at your tender hips. Your lower back is so tired and your hips are sore. 

He keeps rubbing and tracing designs on your skin until your breathing evens out. He rolls away a little to go back to his room before your rolling towards him, and resting your head on his chest.

“Don’t go.” You whine.

**

His whole life flashed before his eyes when he got the call. His whole life. 

That’s the only words running through his mind. 

His whole life.

“What did she say?” Brian as he drove to the airport. 

“She said that she was being transported to the hospital and because she’s pregnant they wanted to take her in for more testing just to double check that everything was okay.” 

“And what happened again?” 

“She was driving home from work, her light went green and she proceeded through the intersection when some dipshit in a fucking truck ran the red and hit the back of her car, sounds like it’s totaled but luckily he just hit her trunk, so she wasn’t hurt to much.” 

“She’s okay though right?” Brian asked again.

“As far as I know, but I’ll keep you updated. Just tell everyone else for me okay?” 

“Of course man. Just go take care of her and that Baby.” 

Connor takes a shaky breath as he looks out the window. 

“Connor,” Brian said, surprising him by using his full name. “You need to breathe.” 

“My whole life was in that car Brian, my whole life was sitting in the driver's seat of that car, and-” 

“You need to breathe Connor.” 

“I’m trying!” He snaps at Brian, “But I’m freaking out! My girl and our baby were in an accident today and I’m not there with them! So please forgive me if I’m a little scared and panicked.” 

“I know you are, you just gotta stay calm. Positive thoughts lead to positive outcomes.” 

“You really need to stop doing that weird fucking yoga thing with Shawn. It’s changing you man.” Connor jokes, trying to lighten his own mood. 

**

By the time Connor’s landed you’re already home and resting. He bursts into the apartment like a bat out of hell, slamming the door and flipping the lock before throwing his bag to the ground and racing to your room.

“Jesus, be a little louder why don’t you.” You comment when he falls into your room.

“Are you okay? What did the doctor say? Is our Bean okay?” He throws himself onto your bed, hands instantly searching for your ever growing bump.

“We’re okay.” You whisper, threading your fingers through his hair to calm him down. “I told you we were fine and that you didn’t need to come home.”

“Right,” He scoffs. “Like I was just gonna stay miles away from you after you’ve been in an accident.” 

“But we’re okay! You’re parents, my parents, our siblings, everyone was there with me. Really we’re okay.” 

“Okay, okay.” He nods, laying down with his head beside your big belly, rubbing and tapping at it, smiling when he feels a few kicks. “My Bean is kicking?” He looks up at you.

“Yeah, has been for a week or so.” 

“Why didn’t you say so?” 

“Well,” You frown, looking away. “To be honest I planned on pretending that the first time Bean kicked when you were home next was the first time so you didn’t feel like you were missing out on anything.” 

Connor smiles at you, shaking his head and leaning up to plant a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you for planning to lie to me.” 

You giggle, before shifting to sit up more. You reach for the papers on your bedside table and hand them to Connor.

“What’s this?” He asks, looking down. His face falls, frown dropping his lips eyes looking up at you. “What is this? Why are you handing me this?”

“I think we need to talk about it.” You shrug.

“Not right now.” 

“Connor this is serious, it’s not just us anymore. We’re having a kid, we need to have a Will drawn up.” 

“I understand that, but I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” 

“Connor, in the event that something happens to one of us, we need to know what the other wants.” 

“Stop, stop, stop talkin’ like that!” 

“Connor,” 

“Please,” He tugs at his hair, “Please not right now. I understand we need to know, I get that and we’ll have it drawn up but I don’t want to talk about it right now. All my nightmares came true today.” He looks at you with sad eyes. “I haven’t told you this, but lately I’ve been having a few nightmares that something happens to you and our Bean, and I’m not there to help you or protect you.” He shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut. “And that happened to me today. You both were in an accident, and I wasn’t here.” 

“Connor,” You say again.

“I get it!” He snaps. “But I don’t like the thought of losing you okay? I’m fucking in love with you, and I don’t really have you, but I thought I lost you when I got that call. So can we stop talking like this for the day? Please? Please can you give my heart a moment?” 

You stare up at him with wide eyes, your heart rate picking up at his words. 

“You’re what?” You whisper, caressing his cheek.

“Huh?” 

“You’re in love with me?” 

His eyes go wide in panic now that he’s realized what he’s said.

“Are you being serious?”

“Yeah?” He nods.

“Why haven’t you said anything!” You slap his arm.

“I don’t know, you never-”

“I’ve been in love with you since Junior year!” You keep slapping his arm.

“Stop hitting me!” He grabs your hands, interlocking your fingers.

“You never said anything!” “Neither did you!” He responds.

**

Things were different now, you still hadn’t really said officially what you two were now, but it was this weird in between stage of best friend and boyfriend.

He would kiss you sometimes, and always hold your hand, he’d even let a few pet names slip, but when asked by others he still referred to you as his best friend. 

It confused you to no end, because now that something changed he’s moved into your room, claiming that he would just sneak in every night anyway, and now you had room for a nursery. 

“Babe?” He called from the nursery, seated criss cross on the ground, staring up at the ceiling while waiting for your response. “BABE?” 

“What?” You call back, walking down the hall to the laundry room.

“Can you bring me a water?” 

“Really? You can’t get it yourself?” 

“I’m building the crib!” 

“I’m doing your laundry!” You yell back, leaning against the dryer, rolling your eyes at his request.

“Please?” He asks softly. When you don’t respond he resorts to baby talk he knows you can’t resist. “Pweety Pwease? I’ll give you kisses.” 

You groan, waddling down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing him a cucumber mint flow from the fridge, and grabbing yourself a watermelon lime one. You make your way to the nursery, throwing him the water before taking a seat in the new rocking chair Shawn bought you guys.

“How you doing there Pretty Mama?” He smiles looking over at you. 

“I’m tired, and big.” You whine, looking down at your very pregnant belly.

“I think you look really pretty.” He blushes, looking back at the crib.

“You owe me kisses.” You pout.

“Do I?” He looks at you, “What if I was crossing my fingers?” 

You gasp, furrowing your brows and crossing your arms across your chest. “That’s so mean. You’re pregnant best friend just waddled her way to the kitchen and back to bring you your precious water and you won’t give her kisses like you promised?” 

He’s up on his knees crawling towards you. “Girlfriend.” He hums setting his hands on your thighs so he can lean closer.

“What?” 

“You mean my pregnant girlfriend.” He corrects you.

“Do I?” You asked softly, biting your lip as you stare into those blue eyes.

“I sure hope so.” He whispers.

“Is that what I am? Your girlfriend?” 

He pulls back a little, brows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean? I thought-”

��Yeah me too but then you told the guy at the baby shop that I was your best friend.” 

He sighs, hanging his head. “It’s so natural, or I don’t know, programmed in my head to introduce you that way. But I thought we turned into something more when we confessed.” 

“Me too, but when you did that it through me off.” 

“Babe,” He smiles, rubbing his hands up your legs, “We live together, we sleep in the same bed, we kiss, we love, we laugh, we fight, we’re pregnant.” He let’s his right hand wander to your belly. “I consider you my girlfriend. I hope you consider me your boyfriend.” 

“I do.” 

“So then why are you pouting?”

“Because I really want kisses.” 

“Oh my goodness.” He laughs, leaning forward to cover your lips with his own. He kisses you deeply, pecking your lips three more times before pulling away. “Better?”

“For now.” 

“Okay.” He laughs, shaking his head before going back to building the crib.

**

“Boyfriend?” You yell from the bedroom when you hear the door open.

“It’s Boyfriend and his friends!” Connor yells back. “Girlfriend?” 

“Yes?”

“Where are you?” 

You quickly finish tying the bow to his gift before making your way to the living room where Shawn and Brian are seated on the couch.

“Hey!” Shawn jumps up, giving you a hug before looking down to your belly. “Can I touch your belly?” 

You laugh a little, “Yeah go ahead, thank you for asking.” 

“Of course, it would be a little rude to just go ahead.” He says touching your belly. 

“Can you tell that to the rest of the world?” 

“Hey Bean!” Shawn says to your belly. “Uncle Shawn got you the coolest thing ever!” He says before running to the couch to show you a small guitar case. 

“Shawn you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t help myself, I was looking for a new one and saw this little thing.” He pops the case open. “I’ll teach Bean how to play and everything!” 

“There you are!” Connor smiles when he enters holding three beers and your favorite flow flavor. He walks up to you, planting a wet smooch to your lips before handing the boys their drinks. 

“I have something for you.” You grin, holding up the little gift wrapped box.

“Oh yeah?” He takes it from you. 

He unties the bow, rips the paper, and opens the box to reveal a small blue Polaroid camera.

“This is so cute,” He says holding it in his hand.

Shawn gasps and Brian stands up in excitement.

“Where’d you get this honey?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” You wave him off, bouncing on your toes in excitement. “What color is it?” 

“Blue?” He asks, looking up at you, and then over to the excited boys next to him that are punching the other in the arm.

“And blue is for what?” You pull it out of him.

“Blue is for….” He stares at you, “Blue is for boy.” His eyes light up. “Blue is for boy?” 

“Blue is for boy!” You squeal.

“Oh my god! Blue is for boy!” He wraps you up in his arms, kissing your neck. “It’s a boy, we’re having a boy!” 

“ITS A BOY!” Shawn and Brian cheer.

**

You groan in pain as you feel another contraction hit. You’ve been in labor for three hours now and your little boy does not want to come see the world.

Connor tries not to wince or complain about his hand he’s sure you’ve severely bruised. He breathes with you through the pain, running a soothing hand over your head and taking your matted hair back away from your forehead.

“There you go Baby.” He whispers, “You’re doing so good.”

“I love you Connor David,” You smile at him, “But I want to fucking kick you in the balls right now.” 

He winces at the thought and shakes his head. “I’m sorry Baby,” He looks away. “I wish I could take your pain away, I wish it were me.” 

“Me too.” You relax when the contraction stops.

“Still holding your hand?” The nurse smiles when she walks in to check on you. “You’re better than most Dad’s, they usually wimp out by now from the pain.” 

“He never lets go, no matter what.” You smile up at Connor.

“You’re my lobster Baby,” He leans down to kiss your lips.

**

//

written by: @shawnm521 

[theravenclawlover]

Monster

Parings: James “Bucky” Barnes x Reader.

Warnings: +18 Mentions of torture, mature language, future smut, mentions of death, slight depression, mentions of kidnapping.  

Word Count: 2,066.

Summary: You are one of the youngest members of the Avengers, and you love it. Out of the blue an impossible mission is assigned to you alongside Natasha Romanoff, and it was sure to change your life. Lies, and betrayal from the closest people in your life; they never told you who you really were.

Chapter Number: 2.

Chapter Tittle: The Mission.

A/N: Hey! I’m back with another update for this series as you can see! I’ve been so busy with life, it’s a little tiring. Who would’ve thought that online courses could be so homework heavy... Nevertheless, I made some time to twink this thing up and some other chapter, so my prediction is that maybe later or tomorrow there’s going to be another chapter up! Thank you for being so patient with me, it means a lot! Now for those who read my Harry Potter fics, I know I still owe you lot a smutty Weasley Twins fic, and I promise I’ll post it by the end of the month or beginnigs of next, I haven’t been able to finish it for some reason. Also, I think I’ll try to start drafting chapters for my “Welcome to the Industry of Porn.” It’s been almost a year since I last updated that one. Okay, I’ll stop! Enjoy my fellow readers! 

After getting things ready, Nat and you found yourselves in her car; Natasha on the wheel. She kept on glancing at you, not real expression set but it was kind of annoying you. At first it didn't bother you and didn't really mind it, but it had been an hour since her eyeing had begun, so the annoyance was bound to sprout from you any minute.

"What?" you said a little snappy, it couldn't be ignored any longer. It was just rude to stare.

"What?" echoed Natasha with feigned confusion.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" You exclaimed while turning to face her as much as you could with the seatbelt on.

"Like what?" She didn't turn like you had, but you were able to see the change of her expression from your seat, she just gave you a confused look at your words.

"Nat, you haven't stop looking at me! It might sound crazy, but you've looked worried ever since Steve mentioned this "Bucky" person." You couldn't stop from raising your voice a little. She was agitating you and you knew you probably were overreacting at the whole situation.

She let out a sigh before answering, "Y/n, we have been sent to bring the Winter Soldier by no means of force. He has memory problems because HYDRA thought it was a great idea to mess with his brain. So, I'm sorry If I can't take my mind out of it! Also, I'm not looking at you with worry, I was just wondering why you seem so calm." At the last words she'd turned to face you, having reached a red light.

"I never thought that I would witness what I believe is a mini freak out from you. Also, I had my breakdown in my room when we were getting ready. He's scary for what I've read in his report. Remember Washington? Stupid question, of course you do. Dude, I cried when you and Steve were on the run. Trust me, I'm fucking scared, but I'm trying to stay calm. I have a theory that he can smell fear. So, I'm practicing my 'I'm cool with a brainwashed assassin in the room' face," you exclaimed with the tiniest grin on your face. Joking about the matter seem to help with your anxiousness, and the exasperation from before now gone.

"To be honest with you, I'm rather impressed that you look better than I do right now," she said after stopping the car in front of a big old building that looked like it was about to fall, "we're here."

"Shit." It was really happening. All you had to do was peacefully bring a brainwashed dude with you back to the base. Should be easy. Piece of cake, right?

"Let's do this, " said Nat getting out of the car, her façade of tough—not really a façade, she was tough—assassin had 'activated' once more.

You both stepped through the rough looking doors, according to the last report on him, he was in last the floor going up. You were shaking a little when you had finally made your way up. Nat made her way toward the door with quiet steps. Once the two of you were in front of the room neither of you knew what to do next. Do we just knock, or we burst in like the badass women we fucking are? you thought to yourself, a little grin trying to break on your face. You didn't get to dwell on it for too long because Nat had knocked on the door, her face showed the clear regret of that action. She had just acted without thinking of the consequences of her actions—how odd.

There was a noise coming from inside, you could hear hesitant footsteps coming towards the door, you knew he was going to open the door anytime soon, but you didn't know what to do so you just stood there. The movements from inside suddenly stopped, you saw the shadow of someone right in front of the door from its order side. A second later, that someone opened the door, and lord did the sight made you blush.

The door opened to show a shirtless man, long hair covering his face. He looked as if he had just taken a shower, he hadn't been expecting anyone—I mean, who would? The building was mostly empty, except for the homeless that looked for shelter. You knew you were staring but you couldn't remove you gaze from his massive, muscular form, and that glistening arm.

"Good afternoon," said Natasha, breaking the silence. He didn't say anything he just kept looking at both of you trying to figure out who you two were, and most likely wondering why you had disturbed his peace and quiet. After her words, more silence came—awkward silence.

"We are here to help you out, we know who you are," Natasha proceeded to say without introductions. Wrong move. The calm face he'd had was now replace with a cold expression. Before either of you could muster words out, he'd closed the door and hurried back inside.

"Shit! Shouldn't have done that!" Natasha grabbed her gun kicking the door trying to stop him. You did the same thing, grabbed your gun and try to stop him before he disappeared once again. You knew it had been hard to get a hold on a ghost like the Winter Soldier, so you couldn't afford to mess the mission up.

Once inside, he had put out on a shirt and was ready to jump from the window. Nat shouted a 'stop' but he didn't listen, he jumped from the window. You ran to the window to see him landing flawlessly on the ground. Before running off, he turned his head, and you swore he winked your way. Without another glance, he ran and vanished from your view when he took the first turn to the left.

"Crap! The fucker ran away again! He was ready," said an angered Natasha, now standing by your side.

"That was so fast. Who gets dressed that fast?, and that bag must've been packed already," you said looking around for any type of intel you could find. You needed to know where he has heading next, that could help with the foul mood Fury was surely going to be in.

"I don't know, but what I do know is that we are in big trouble when we get back," said Natasha with a sigh escaping her lips. With one quick look around, you gave up and headed back to the car, your murder by your boss awaiting you.

                                                        °°°°°

"Sir, he just ran back inside and jumped from the window and disappeared." For the umpteenth time you told what had happened to Fury. When the two of you got to the new secret facility of S.H.I.E.L.D.—or what was left of it—you were to give your mission report to Fury. Steve was there, listening on how bad the mission had gone; he looked worried, but you had a feeling that it was because his friend was in the world off the radar rather than worried about either Nat or you being yelled at by Fury. You felt guilty, Natasha and you had messed up the chance for him to see this 'Bucky,' but at the same time you were slightly annoyed at his uncharacteristic coldness at your failure.

Fury was mad that you two had failed the mission, but he had known that someone like him was no easy target, but that doesn't mean that he let you off without some type of punishment. You knew that S.H.I.E.L.D wasn't the same organization that once was, now it was just a little group left since the incident with HYDRA. Fury told you after he had—somewhat—calm down that Natasha and you were to be in the tracking team. Meaning that you were to sit down in front of a computer until you got wind of him.

You got back to your room but not before spending the rest of the afternoon working for the new coordinates of where he could have run to hide. You opened the door to your room; once in, you kicked your shoes off and walked towards where your bed was, putting your gun and badge on the nightstand. You were exhausted to even remain awake while walking around to get things done. You went to the bathroom to take the most relaxing shower. The warm water felt so good against your tired body and your thoughts ran wild, with no care. At first it was just how bad you had mess up the mission and the guilt that came with that, but then you could only focus on him. Those piercing blue eyes that seem to take you away from reality... You shook your head trying to forget about those eyes, but you found yourself going back to them. They seem to bring you a sense of comfort that you couldn't explain. You quickly finished your shower, trying to rid yourself from thoughts of him. Once out, you grabbed your panties and the biggest, baggiest t-shirt you owned, and with no trouble you fell asleep.

                                                         °°°°°

You were in a room that seem too familiar for some reason, there was a glass window in front of you. You walked towards it; it showed another room. Your eyes landed in the person that was in the middle of the room, it was him. He was shirtless inside a capsule, he looked troubled while he slept. There were people waking him up, and when they did, they sat him on a chair not far from the capsule he had been. There were doctors around him with clipboards, and big machines were being situated around the blue-eyed man. You looked around, besides the doctors there were people in green outfits—officers. Then you looked to your other side and saw one of the doctors coming to the room you were in, he walked towards to what looked like a control panel. You saw him pressing some buttons, and the big machines in the other room started moving.

Your eyes moved to find his, he was already staring right at you; he couldn't see you, though, the glass didn't allow it. One of the doctors near him grabbed something and put it in his mouth, him never questioning what. He kept looking straight ahead, you felt as if he could really see you through the glass, it made you shiver unconsciously. One of the doctors now gave a signal towards the glass, and so, the man on your side of the glass pressed one button and the machine got closer to the man sitting on the chair. Before you could guess what was going on, he was screaming. You didn't want to see, your heart ached at the way his eyes shut abruptly, how his knuckles were now white from gripping the chair. You couldn't look away and you weren't even able to flinch at his screams. You didn't know how long it went like that, but all the screaming was soon replaced with a shrilling silence. As soon as he was still, dead-looking, some officers were now helping him up and taking him somewhere else. Everyone started to leave, doctors and officers alike—loud-ish chatter amongst them. There was one person who didn't move, and he was looking at you. The man smiled and made his way towards you, he seemed familiar and nice.

"What you just saw, Y/n, was how we made our best weapon stay emotionless, and strong. That is why he is valuable to us; he doesn't show emotions towards his victims." The man was now kneeling in front of you, "now, honey, we better get you to your room. Tomorrow is going to be another day full of training."

"Yes, sir," you said. Your voice sounded so young, probably less than ten years old. He picked you up, and you wrapped your tiny arms around his neck. It took forever to get to what you guessed was your room. Once inside and you were changed into your pajamas, he helped you get in bed, tucking you in.

"Have sweet dreams, my little princess," said the man that was looking at you with loving eyes.

You gave him a soft, sleepy smile before yawning while muttering softly, "goodnight, papa."  

Tag list:

@boredtotearz100 @john-benderr @cnco-ravenclaw-46

[loveisinthe-aira-blog]

How to deal with your shitty-haired best friend crushing on you

A quick long guide by Bakugou Fucking Katsuki.

1.    Make sure said shitty-haired best friend knows that the fact he's gay as fuck doesn't bother you. There’s no way in hell it would. Also, he's the first person on this planet that really befriended you. He could even be the fucker who chomps into their KitKat fully and you'd be "oh, yeah, I'm cool with that". Actually, he might be that fucker. That's the coming out you should brace yourself for.

2.    Try to not let him know that you realized he unconsciously stares at you, sometimes. Like, in the gym, in the changing room, or in the public bathroom. Okay, he stares a lot of times. But he ain't a creep like the grape fucker. He's no stealth master either, but he'd be mortified if he realized you caught him. And you want none of that. Never.

3.    Don’t you ever push him away when he goes into full PDA mode just because those DAs are P. You know he doesn’t do that on purpose. Sometimes, he just forgets you’re not alone. He’s damn airheaded like that. But he’s also mindful, so you show him how to be a stealth master. Just flick him or something. He’ll understand. He reads you like a fucking open book, so he’ll understand for sure, and you won’t have wronged him behaving like the ass you like to be… to anyone else. Two frigging birds with one stone.

4.    Don’t you either push him away when the P in DA becomes “private”. You don’t actually mind if it’s like that. No point in denying. Also, there ain’t a damn point in being a wimp and in refraining yourself, you know? Shit, use those hands to do something other than exploding things. You know you want to.

5.    Don’t meddle when he stops to talk with another guy. Even if there’s no freaking way they match, or if the prick obviously doesn’t deserve him, or if you just know that prick’s going to break your friend’s damn soft heart. They’re only talking, for fuck’s sake. Not your business in the first place, even if they weren’t doing only that. Let them fucking be.

6.    Apologize because in the end you didn’t let them fucking be, and we all knew that.

7.    Actually, just apologize whenever the hell you have to. He deserves that for putting up with your shit all the time.

8.    Ignore when some very gay stuff slips from his mouth. He’s the one who’s most embarrassed ‘bout it. When that very gay stuff is aimed at you (ergo, most of the time) take the compliment and let go. It’s not like it makes you feel uncomfortable, and fuck, he takes enough mocking from dumb Ducktape and dumber Pikachu.

9.    Remember to smack them later, but only when your shitty-haired friend and Fucking Princess Bubblegum can’t see you – ‘cause she would mock you for being a protective “boyfriend”, and you’d have to hear her fake “what, you’re a boy and his friend” speech again. Now, why do you even hang out with them?

10.    Well, okay. Sometimes they can be funny. But they can also be a pain in the ass, so hang out with your shitty-haired friend more. You’re biased and who cares. They probably know that already. And if you do avoid hanging out with them, they can’t make a fuss about the “boy and friend” thing. Sounds like the perfect plan.

11.    Shit, alright, they’re more fun than a pain, so hang out with them, too. But don’t let ‘em know that you actually like doing that. They’ll never let you live past it.

12.    Back to the point, and now, you jackass, read carefully. Here comes the important part.

13.    Your shitty-haired best friend also wants to hang out just with you, so take the chance.

14.    Don’t think about the damn reason, nor of the way his eyes linger on you. They’re soft these times, but it’s all the same as in point 2.

15.    Don’t think about a lot of things. Especially when he looks at you and his eyes aren't longing nor soft, but just sad. Try not to think that maybe you do know the reason why. Try not to think that maybe it’s your damn fault.

16.    Fail in both things. Try again.

17.    Stay in that frail denial as long as fucking you can.

18.    Exit denial when, in the end, your best friend falls apart and tells you he’s in love with you, but doesn’t ask you to love him back.

19.    Goddammit.

20.    …

21.    God fucking dammit.

22.    First of all, calm the fuck down. You’re a mess right now, but sure as hell he’s in a worse state, and you can see that ‘cause he isn’t shedding any damn tear. And you know how much of a crybaby he is. His eyes are sad like you never saw them, but he’s smiling. Like he knew the answer all along but told you anyways, because he’s like that, isn’t he? He couldn’t keep lying, staying in denial as you were so ready to do. He’s always been a better friend than you, after all. Hell, a better human being.

23.    Fucking apologize because you don’t know what else to do, and try not to puke as if he punched you when he says “No, Bakugou, please. Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong, you’ve just… been yourself. And I… I couldn’t help it. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault”.

24.    It’s not anyone’s damn fault, but you both don’t believe that.

25.    Go to bed. Sleep it off. Wake up and think about it again.

26.    Repeat for some days ‘till you wake up, think about it, and you can’t help but feeling only fucking flattered. Nothing else to say here.

27.    Next thing, act like you always do. Don’t you distance yourself, and hell, don’t let him distance himself. He’s your best friend, no matter what.

28.    Don’t believe him if he says he needs some time to make it alright again. There’s nothing not right in how he feels, and no amount of time would help. Time without you means time he’d spend alone. Blaming himself. Worrying he might be losing you. No shit, stick to him like sweat to skin. He’s not losing any damn thing and you better make that clear.

29.    Fucking tell him if you have to, even if that makes his eyes water and his lips tremble.

30.    Don’t let him cry, but give him a shoulder to do that on if you can’t avoid it. The shoulder is a good spot. It makes it difficult for you to see him finally let it all out, and that’s for the best. Trust me, if you don’t want any trouble.

31.    While you’re at it, hug the hell outta him. It’ll make him feel better.

32.    When he calms down, if you can, try to stop him from thanking you, otherwise yell (softly) at him because he’s an idiot.

33.    Now, now remember to breathe when he sniffles a laugh and looks at you like you put the fucking stars in the sky. Actually, he’s the one who does things with the stars, since he has tones of them in his eyes. Holy shit. You do realize they’re just his tears, right? Right. As if.

34.    I warned you, you shouldn’t have seen that, but now that you did, know that you’re plus ultra fucked up. It should be clear by the fact that you’re making parallels with goddamn stars. Really, what the actual fuck.

35.    Well, apparently it’s time to realize your stupid ass has been in love with him this whole time. Congratulations, you just won the slow as fuck race.

36.    Take time to digest that. It might have been going on for months now, but to finally see it clearly, that’s another story. Maybe use that time to… yeah, take in the little things you tried not to notice ‘till now. Definitely don’t notice when he talks to another guy if you don’t want to repeat points 5 and 6 in the worst way. Stay away from there. Point 4 it’s safer. Kinda.

37.    Don’t indulge too much into it, despite the way it makes you both feel – good. For as much as your shitty-haired crush is dumb, remind the open book thing. If you start to suddenly skim longingly over his okay-not-so-shitty hair, even he’ll be able to do the math. And you’re not ready to spill your guts, yet.

38.    Wait till you are, till you don’t feel like you’re going to fuck this up before it even starts, ‘cause that’s the last thing you wanna do. This feeling, this will you have is what’s really important. No matter how much you’re sure you’re gonna be the shittiest boyfriend in the whole goddamn world, you wanna try not to be. And that’s what makes all the fucking difference.

39.    That’s why, don't let yourself set up a pity party. Yeah. You know what I'm talking about. Just. Whatever. Explodo kill your insecurities and be fucking manly. Something like that. After all, if someone like him fell for you, there must be a reason… even if you can’t see it.

40.    Apparently, he can’t see shit either ‘cause when you try to tell him (damn hard thing, by the way) he doesn’t believe you. I’m dead serious. He doesn’t believe you. The goddamn idiot thinks you’re doing it for him and flat out rejects you. How come you forgot he’s the freaking king of pity parties?

41.    Try, oh try to refrain yourself from headbutting your frigging confession directly into his brain.

42.    Instead, kiss his stupid face. Hard.

43.    Pull away. Breathe.

44.    Repeat. Harder.

45.    Now do it softer.

46.    Pull away again. Headbutt him Rest your forehead against his. Bask in his wide eyes and then wider, dumbstruck smile.

47.    Hell, allow yourself a smile, too.

48.    Then… damn if I know. Just don’t hold back anymore. Fucking love him with all you’ve got.

49.    …

50.    And yeah. Let yourself be loved, too.

A/N: This works only if the shitty-haired best friend is named Kirishima Eijirou. You heard me. Kirishima Fucking Eijirou and no one else. How come it’s a guide if it works only for you, Bakugooouu Also, no friendship harmed during the process… but maybe some friends. ‘Cuz The Awesome King of Explodo Kills smacks with his Even More Awesome Quirk. R.I.P. dumb and dumber, hell if I’ll miss you.

(Mina: He’s kidding, ya’ll, he’s a good boy-friend to us…)

[thedefinitionofbts]

Red and Gold (M)

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Iron Man!Jungkook, Fluff, Scifi, Comedy, Smut

Words: 11K

Description: It’s no secret that genius, billionaire, international playboy, and philanthropist- Jeon Jungkook, better known as the CEO of Jeon Industries-and even better known as Iron Man, is one of the most intelligent, wealthy, and powerful men in the world. There’s nothing that can get to him or his ego, that is, until you happen to show up and give him a run for his money. 

A/N: It was only a matter of time before I put in an attempt to make Jungkook’s dream a reality...kind of....but not really lol.... Enjoy!  

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Explicit Sexual Content 

 Even before Jeon Jungkook inherited Jeon Industries from his late father, he was notorious for being the spoiled heir of the world’s largest weapons manufacturing conglomerate. People had constantly given him crap for being fed with a silver spoon since the day he was born, that is, until he became Iron Man and shut those fuckers up by saving the world on more occasions than one. Apparently just being a genius inventor-and part time philanthropist-just doesn’t make the cut anymore. And ever since he revealed his identity as the guy in the red and gold metallic suit, things have gotten more interesting so to say.

He had originally thought taking over his dad’s business was going to be a lot of pressure-the sort of responsibility he put off by getting drunk every other night and sleeping around with the beautiful women who would melt in the hands of his wealth and reputation. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the greatest of ideas, but let’s just say he wasn’t quite ready for adulting at the free-spirited age of 18 and wanted to have a little fun while he still had it in him. But now that protecting the world was one of his liabilities, that sort of recklessness had to be put on the backburner. To be honest, it was getting a bit dull for Jungkook anyways, and he can’t say he didn’t like the extra attention he got for being one of the coolest superheroes in the history of superheroes.

Of course life has not been any easier-not that Jungkook ever found life to be difficult, per se-he’s a genius, remember? But there were a lot of people out there who wanted him dead or would go extremes to get their hands on his unrivaled suit of armor, so constant renewing of his self developed technology was a must. And he’s always been able to get what he desired and accomplish what he wanted, whether it was by his own efforts or what he’s been conveniently gifted by the circumstances in which he was brought into this world, for the most part at least.

“Mr. Jeon, your new-“

“Namjoon, how many times have I told you?” Jungkook cards a hand through his tousled hair and proceeds to twirl a pen in his hand. “Ditch the formalities, just call me Jungkook.”

“Right, Jungkook” Namjoon clears his throat, looking back down at his ipad.  “As I was saying, you’re new assistant is due to come in this afternoon.”

Jungkook cocks a brow. “New Assistant?”

“I notified you of the selection process a month in advance, and emailed you the results just last week, surely you didn’t delete that email before reading it again, did you?”

Jungkook has a momentary flashback of the message titled “New Assistant” that was sitting unassumingly in his inbox, the contents of which he was too hungover to actually read at the time. He vaguely recalls requesting for a new helper to provide assistance in designing his next generation of Iron Man suits. This must be that request coming to fruition. 

“No, no. How could I possible forget about my new assistant?” Jungkook says, making a that’s-completely-absurd face, and proceeds to cross his legs and lean back against his leather chair. “What was his name again?”

“Her, Jungkook, she’s a woman.” Namjoon corrects, shaking his head in defeat.

“Ah right, a fan of Iron Man I assume?“ Jungkook’s eyes light up, interest clearly sparked by the thought of a female work assistant. Having been stuck with JARVIS-his artificially intelligent system, for the past few years was getting a bit too lackluster for his taste, not that he didn’t appreciate the irreplaceable assistance of his personally designed AI.  

“She’s not merely a fan, Jungkook. She was the most qualified candidate.” Namjoon declares confidently, feeling rather annoyed at the younger male’s arrogance. Despite being a genius superhero, Jungkook was far from mature. It was always times like these when his 21 year old self would show through the lavish lifestyle and heroic suit.

“Even more so than you?” Jungkook cocks another eyebrow, turning to look at his long time secretary that he had met during his universities days and handpicked from the crowd of similarly qualified classmates. He had first and foremost offered the position the older male, in hopes that the visibly capable man would be thrilled to take his offer, but Namjoon had declined saying that there were more skilled people than he to fill the spot.

“I myself would not be so confident in putting my own credentials up against hers.”

“Oh, she’s that good?”

Namjoon nods. “Even for you.”

Jungkook lets out a laugh as if it were a joke. “In case you’ve forgotten, I graduated from KAIST-the most prestigious engineering university in South Korea, with two master’s degrees in computer and electrical engineering when I was 18.”

Namjoon nods again, fully aware that the boy was a genius, but he also knew that Jungkook was someone who tended to let his ego get to his head. “You’ll see.” He says with a grin.

As cliché as it may sound, Kim Namjoon was the type of person who had the money, the looks, and the brains to start his own company and become just as successful as Jungkook’s father but decided to work at Jeon Industries for the good of human kind. In other words, he is essentially the core reason Jeon Jungkook became Iron Man in the first place, sticking with him through thick and thin and guiding the boy through countless trials. Long story short, he had saw potential in the boy when they had met on the first day of freshman physics, had a flashing thought that with a little help, the lost soul who didn’t have a meaningful purpose in life at the time could actually become a hero, literally.

And since then, Namjoon has considered himself to be the kind of person who had a good eye for people, places, things-you name it-that would help Jungkook grow as a person, and why he had decided to hire you as Jungkook’s new assistant was no exception.  

 …

  After receiving the acceptance email informing that you had been selected to work for Jeon Industries as the CEO’s personal assistant, you had done a little bit of research on the location of your new work place and future home. Jeon Jungkook lives on the outskirts of Seoul, on a mountainside overlooking the bustling metropolis from an elevated reference point. It’s a place you had imagined Beverly Hills or Malibu would look like, but with no other rich houses around. 

His secretary had come to pick you up at 2pm sharp and driven you through the heart of Seoul to the surrounding mountain range that snaked around South Korea’s capital. He was the same man that had interviewed you and explained everything on the job description down to the last detail.

“Do you remember what I told you?” Namjoon queries, eyes still focused on the winding road.

“That I shouldn’t let him feel superior to me?”

“Yes.” He confirms. “I know he’s technically your boss, but the only way to get a man like Jungkook to take you seriously is to treat him as your equal.”

“You sure he won’t end up hating me to the point where he’ll fire me for being disrespectful?”

Namjoon chuckles. “Jungkook won’t hate a woman who has the guts to stand up to him. If anything, he won’t be able to let go of you.”

You wonder what Namjoon means by that last part, but you aren’t given the chance to ask as he pulls into the driveway of a gigantic mansion, minimalistic and modern, with multiple space-craft like layers jutting out from the cliff and glass windows to contrast its smooth white walls.

Momentarily gawking at the impossibly high-tech design and silently estimating the cost of such a large property, you have to remind yourself that Jeon Jungkook is one of the richest men in the world and all of this is probably just the bare minimum for him. It’s going to be something you’ll have to get used to, now that you’ll be staying here permanently. Exciting as it maybe, you’re still a bit nervous about meeting this Jungkook, after all if genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist wasn’t daunting enough, he also held the title of being the world’s most popular superhero- Iron Man. It’s definitely going to take some adjusting, transitioning from your humble graduate student life to having the weight of world peace resting on your shoulders, and you’re not even sure if you’ll ever get used to waking up as a personal assistant to such a powerful man, but you were here now and ready to get things started.

You quietly follow behind Namjoon as you roll your suitcase of clothes and personal items down the cement sidewalk leading up to the front doors. You manage to sneak in a deep, sedative breath before the doors open automatically and a rush of cool, air-conditioned breeze greets you. You were expecting an expensive tailored suit and freshly combed hair, but what you actually come face to face with is a doe-eyed, baby-faced 20 something-year old dressed in a pair of grey sweat pants and an oversized white t-shirt, looking like he just crawled out of bed even though it was almost 4 o’clock in the afternoon.

And it’s not that you’ve never seen him before, like on TV or in the newspaper, but he definitely looked a lot younger- verging on adolescent- in real life, and maybe it was that saying about how make-up does wonders, but the man at this point was looking no different from your average college undergraduate.

But that endearing description of his outer appearance went down the toilet the moment he approaches you and opens his mouth. And it’s safe to say that there are very few things that manage to annoy you upon first impression, but the cocky look plastered on Jungkook’s face when he shakes your hand just so happens to be one of them.

“A pleasure, Miss...” Jungkook snaps his fingers and winces as if he were trying to recall your name, which he probably didn’t even bother to remember in the first place. 

“Y/L/N” You reply.

“Ah, yes, and is that what you prefer to go by or…”

“Y/N, just Y/N”

“Y/N” Jungkook repeats, getting a feel of how the syllables slip off his tongue.

“And it’s Jungkook, I assume?”

“Actually you can just call me Mr. J-” Jungkook stops before realizing you had just called him by his preferred title without him needing to correct you. He clears his throat, catching his near slip-up. “Yes, call me Jungkook.”

Jungkook gives you a brief tour of his huge villa, mainly to get you semi-acquainted with the kitchen-where food will always be available in the event that you get hungry, the multiple bathrooms-self explanatory, and his own master bedroom, probably to show off his overly luxurious sleeping quarters-a spacious room noticeably bigger than your entire apartment back in Seoul- as indicated by his smirking when he sees your wide-eyed reaction. At the end of the tour, he leaves you in the guest room, the place you will actually be staying from now on, and allows you time to get settled in before taking you down to his lab.  

“So this place isn’t even password protected?” You question, mildly shocked that you literally just had to take the elevator down to his “secret” lab.  

“That would be too much of a hassle, wouldn’t you think?” Jungkook smirks, staring at his reflection on the mirror doors of the elevator and fixing his ruffled bangs indifferently.

“You do understand that if this kind of technology gets into the wrong hands we’re all doomed right?” You put your hands on your hips as you watch the elevator doors slide open, growing more and more aware of why Namjoon had specifically warned you to not take his shit.  

“Look sweetie, does it look like that hasn’t happened before?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Namjoon did say you were a sassy one.” You comment with a sigh.

Jungkook makes a pretend offended face. “Is that what he says about me behind my back?”

“Like you’re actually surprised.” You roll your eyes.

“You’re right. I’m not.”

You had to admit that Jeon Jungkook’s lab is the sort of high-tech haven that puts sci-fi movies to shame. The walls are smooth, metallic, and undoubtedly bulletproof. His waist-high table that projects 3D holographic images of his latest designs is located at the center of the large, relatively empty space, but you know that with just a few simple commands or the press of some random buttons, things will just start popping out from the walls or surface from below the flooring.

There were also prototypes of his old suits that have been battle worn, the same red and gold coating that you’ve seen on the news when he was flying through the air at sonic speed, fighting off nefarious villains with the rest of the Avengers, or captured on video by onlookers and posted online to garner views.

“I know everything looks super cool, but don’t touch anything unless I tell you to.” Jungkook informs, not so subtly treating you like some untrained child.

“Oh don’t worry about me, I would never want to mess up your precious batcave.”

Jungkook whips his head around and narrows his eyes. “Who do you think I am? Batman? This is my personal laboratory where I perfect the newest technology for Iron Man.”

You shrug. “Same thing.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, but decides against it last minute. You can practically feel him trying to contain his annoyance, but Namjoon had told you not to let his ego get too big, so sorry not sorry.  

He presses a few buttons on the main control and an entire display of different Iron Man suits opens from the far wall. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the varying designs, some looking more intimidating than others either because of their dark color scheme or the machine gun-like contraptions attached to the backside. You unquestionably still preferred the original red and gold one, the piece located at the center of the display for obvious reasons.

Jungkook follows as you slowly approach the glass barrier separating you from actually coming into direct contact with the suits on display. He was watching you closely, expecting you to be in complete awe of the famous metal armor that is currently regarded as the most powerful weapon in the world.  

“Impressive right?” You hear Jungkook voice nonchalantly, making you realize you’ve been silent for too long.

“It’s essentially a gold-titanium alloy exoskeleton powered from the electricity generated by that pacer-sized nuclear reactor.” You state, examining the efficiently designed-but far from flawless (in your opinion), chunk of metal encased in the display. “There are a lot of things that can be improved about it.”

Jungkook clears his throat at your blunt and composed response. “I’m not going to deny the accuracy of that description,” Pause. “but I prefer to call it a suit of armor.”

“It’s sleek and aesthetically pleasing, I’ll give you that one.” You add.

“You do realize that it would take 20 engineers several years to build one of these, when I just happened to whip one up in a matter of days, right?” Jungkook smirks, leaning back against his desk with his arms crossed, eyes still trained on you.

You nod, as if you were agreeing with his boastful statement. “Yes, you and your 3-4 AI-enabled robots who process information hundreds of times faster than the human brain. In other words, you and 3-400 other people made a metal suit that flies and shoots lasers in the time it takes for the rest of us to learn the Korean alphabet. Very impressive indeed.”

Jungkook is not one to get angry over people who aren’t blown away by his unparalleled work, but you were definitely a first. Like who isn’t impressed with the suit?! It’s red and gold for crying out loud! And what was that about flying and shooting lasers? How on earth is that not just beyond amazing?

And if he is annoyed or incredulous at this point, Jungkook doesn’t let any of the signs leak out, because 1.) He’s Jeon Jungkook and 2.) He’s Iron Man.

“So as for improvements for the suit, I have some ideas that might be worth considering.” You announce, as you played around with the holographic images projected in mid-air.

“Yeah, me too. I was contemplating putting my initials on my chest, you know, like that star Captain America has.” Jungkook retorts, grabbing his wristband and suiting up. “I’m kind of tired of the whole glowy circle ordeal.”

You ignore his blunt joke. “I’m thinking of adding a feature like instantaneous suit ups or something” You suggest, watching as the pieces of metal fly towards him and begin unraveling in synchronized order to conform to the shape of his body with the press of a button on his wristband. “Sometimes you’re suit ups look like they take too much time, what if-”

“I’m also thinking we can try out black and silver paint to see how it compares to red and gold or adding some… glitter.” Jungkook interrupts before you can finish. You watch in frustration as he stretches out his arms to admire his handiwork and looks down at his feet like he’s just bought a new pair of shoes or something.

“Can you stop joking for one hot second?” You snap, irritated by his childish attitude towards you.  

“What? I’m just getting the priorities straight.” Jungkook says, voice muffled by the suit helmet. Even through the metallic mask you can picture the smug look on his face.

You weren’t planning on being any harsher on him than you already were, but this guy clearly isn’t planning on giving you a break any time soon, is he?

“Are you afraid I’m going to steal your secrets or are you afraid I’m going to see past your genius if you show me all your cards?” You declare outright, finally done with his games.  

Jungkook swallows, glad for once that the metal helmet was hiding the shocked expression broadcasted on his face. He wasn’t expecting you to hit a target so close to the reason he was being so immature. Yes, he was maybe worried that you’ll see past his immodest façade and challenge his intelligence if he didn’t beat around the bush, but Jungkook was confident enough in his own abilities that it wouldn’t be the main reason he was avoiding getting to the real meat of the problem. He’s never had an actual human as a personal assistant, let alone a woman, and he feels like he was thrown a curve ball because he has most certainly never met someone this hard to impress.

“Fine.” Jungkook huffs. “You want to cut to chase? We’ll cut to the chase then.”

You’re relieved to have won the first battle, having made it clear to him that your not just here to gape at his self-proclaimed “awesomeness”. True as it may be, he still needs to come down from his high horse once in a while, and that’s exactly what Namjoon expects you to do as his assistant.

 …

 You spend the next few days analyzing and tweaking virtual mock-ups of upgraded suit parts or in Jungkook’s own words: “Iron Man 2.0”.  

He hasn’t necessarily gotten better about the cocky attitude and obvious air of superiority, but he had at least started taking you quasi-seriously. He had been kind enough to give you some actual work to do, granted it was mostly “innovative brainstorming” of ideas he may or may not use, but baby steps, right? You also figure he’s not going to be too keen on giving you the low down on key information, stuff that would risk putting Iron Man’s clandestine technology at stake in the event that you quite or get captured.

At the moment Jungkook himself was playing around with more suit parts, going through virtual simulations of how he could improve shooting accuracy and motion dynamics. Stationed at the new desk next to his work table, you’re permitted to watch him work his magic from the best angle available, and although it was probably all part of Jungkook’s plan to show off, you still had to admit he looked pretty attractive when he was hard at work, expertly manipulating mechanical parts and designing intricate electrical circuitry. The way he furrows his brows as he scrutinizes the virtual projection hovering mid air and elegantly twirls his fingers as he manipulates the images at light speed, was, simply stated- mesmerizing.  

“Where are we going?” You query as you rush after Jungkook who suddenly asked you to go with him on a “test flight”. You had never been asked to participate in an activity outside of your work with him in his laboratory, so you didn’t really know what to expect, especially not when it involved flying.

“Outside.” Jungkook leads you out to his perfectly groomed lawn, a leveled patch of green surrounding his cliff-side mansion, analogous to a backyard of sorts.

It was midday, and the sun was hanging high in the cerulean sky, warm rays shinning blindingly down on the grassy estate. You take in a breath of fresh air as a gentle breeze blows by, lifting strands of your hair and carrying over the scent of nature and wildlife. The weather was mildly warm, perfect for outdoor activities, although most people didn’t have the luxury of doing what you were about to embark on now.

“You’re going to perform a test outside?”

“Do you need me to state everything explicitly?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m just worried that someone might be…I dunno, watching? Waiting to steal your technology?”

“I own this entire area. There’s literally no one around.” Jungkook says showing maybe just that tiny hint of mild exasperation because he wrongly assumed once again that you’d at least be excited because he’s totally given up on impressing you at this point.

He presses a few buttons on his wristband and waits as the metal pieces of his Iron Man suit immediately fly over.  

“But even governments of entire countries are careful about the leakage of classified technology when doing weapons testing, and your Iron Man suit is the most powerful weapon on the face of the planet. Would it kill you to be more discreet about it?” 

“Just grab on.”

“So much for getting a chance to say goodbye to my family and friends.” You mutter as you climb onto his back.  

Jungkook has time to let out one more long sigh before the mask plate latches on to the helmet and covers his face.

As much as you’ve been too put off by his ego to be amazed so far, you can’t hide how exhilarating it is to fly with Iron Man. It was like living your childhood dream of being a dragon rider but a million times better because it was actually real, and you’d think that being suspended thousands of feet in the air would be terrifying to say the least, but something about knowing Jungkook’s reliability and industrial precision in combination with his heroic duty as Iron Man was enough to provide the utmost assurance that he would not let you fall.  

You momentarily forget to take note that this “flight test” isn’t actually a flight test but rather Jungkook’s personal break from work, because 1.) It was quite obvious that he would never fly this slowly in any serious situation and 2.) He wouldn’t have you on his back if he was actually trying to fine-tune advanced flight dynamics. So instead, you choose to focus on the way the rush of wind feels brushing past your flushed cheeks and how wispy the fluffy white clouds look close up, resembling a dream-like space illuminated by blinding sunlight and cast with chromatic strips of misty veils. As Jungkook adjusted the flight elevation to glide below the clouds, the beauty of the vast landscape below, extending endlessly for miles in each direction gradually comes into view. It was better than any picturesque scene you could witness from mountain tops on a clear day or the observation deck of some of the tallest skyscrapers in world, because everything was in motion and soaring past your senses like a live-action movie.

“I know, I know, the aerodynamics of the joint areas need fixing, the stability needs a bit of adjusting, and the rocket propellers could theoretically be more environmental friendly.” He sighs, waiting for you to nitpick at the flight functions as the suit peels off his body and folds back into inconspicuous metals chunks when he lands back down at the mansion.

“That… was incredible.” You murmur, still calming down from the adrenaline rush.  

“Really?” A surprised look appears on Jungkook’s face just before it vanishes instantly. “I mean, yeah of course, not everyone can say they’ve flown with Iron Man, except weapons of mass destruction from other worlds that have been tossed through dimensional portals and whatnot.”

 …

  “So how has the upgrade been going?” Namjoon asks as he sits across from Jungkook at the dining table, waiting for the food to be served by the humanoid robot maid.

The dining room was a part of the house that was cantilevered into the surrounding environment; an open space connected the area to the living room where his grand piano was situated on a stage-area in the rounded corner. The contemporary color scheme for the walls and flooring was both simplistic and sophisticated, with the entire back wall made of glass, granting a bird’s eye view of the nocturnal skyline of Seoul not too far in the distance.

The sun had already set by the time the two of you finished up in lab after the impromptu flight break, and you had gone back upstairs to freshen up before dinner.  

“It’s going.” He responds, playing around with the fork while his hand rested against the table.

Jungkook is not one to admit he’s been challenged by another person, let alone, impressed by someone else’s idea, especially not when it came to the suit, but you had him questioning a lot of his past designs and suggested some very good improvements that he may or may not be deliberately choosing to ignore for the sake of his ego.

“Care to go in depth?”

“Flight adjustments.”

“You took her on a flight?” The older male raises his eyebrow, a half grin stretching on his lips. 

Jungkook opens his mouth to answer, but sees you walk into the room and silently seat yourself next to Namjoon. You hadn’t heard what they were discussing, but you did think it was strange that they stopped talking upon your entrance.

“I’ll just give you two some privacy.” Namjoon says before standing up and walking out.

“He’s not eating?” You twist your head towards the direction Namjoon had exited.

“Mr. Kim is going to have dinner with his family in Seoul.”

“Mr. Kim? Don’t you just mean Namjoon?” You raise an eyebrow, wondering why he’s acting so weird all of a sudden.

“Yes.” Jungkook quickly blurts, clearly looking mildly uncomfortable, nervous even, if you had to pinpoint the exact way he avoids direct eye contact and purses his lips.

 Dinner, as usual, is a relatively silent one. You don’t know if this is the right time to strike up a conversation and you’re not sure if you even have the right to get more personal with Jungkook, but it seemed rude to not even engage in small talk. The entire place was silent except the occasional sound of metal cutlery against porcelain, and you can’t help but imagine what it’s like to live here alone, to be the hero of the world and yet have no one to share your burdens with.

“So are you and the rest of the Avengers like super close?” The question lingers in the room for an unnaturally long period of time as Jungkook finishes chewing his mouthful of steak.

“You act like we’re some super secret boy band or something.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“We work together, and that’s about as close as it gets.”  

You mull over his standoffish response, reasoning that there probably isn’t that much to say about the group of superheroes he’s a part of other than the fact that they aggregate when the need arises and whatnot. They don’t really have much in common, especially since one of their members is demi-god and another was born back during WWII. You suspect that there must exist some belief disputes and value discrepancies akin to cultural barriers or generation gaps, but of course, that doesn’t take away from just looking super cool when they all jump into action.  

“Do you ever get scared?”

“With every villain out there trying to wipe me off the face of this planet?” Jungkook continues cutting his steak, running through all the answers he’s given to the media, his fans, other acquaintances, and trying to come up with a textbook Iron Man response. “Not really.”

“I mean, of failure and letting those who rely on you down.”

There you go again, hitting targets like some female version of Hawkeye.

Jungkook doesn’t know how to respond. His preliminary reaction is to repeat what he just said-“not really, no”; shrugging it off like the answer to that question didn’t matter. And truthfully, he wishes it were true, that he isn’t afraid of anything because he’s freaking Iron Man, and he’s supposed to be practically invincible. He should be used to the expectations, and he’s more than familiar with performance goals and guaranteed success. Ever since he was young and his father didn’t allow for screw-ups or showing signs of weakness. But Jungkook doesn’t know why he can’t get himself to lie to you, not when your eyes are so round and glassy under the chandelier, and you seem to be the first person to care more about his flaws than his accomplishments.  

Maybe he just thought you were beautiful the moment he laid his eyes on you and maybe your mind was the type of logical eccentric-ness that he could get used to having around because it was somehow a complementary match for his own. As unexpected as it was initially, Jungkook thinks he can learn to appreciate how you don’t just drool over every little thing he does or sit back and take his shit for that matter. And maybe, just maybe, all of this makes him feel like he doesn’t have to put on a mask of perfection all the time, and that you could conceivably accept his vulnerable side too.

“Yeah, I worry about that sometimes.” He murmurs.

 …

 Jeon Jungkook’s greatest invention to date-besides the suit of course, is that glowing ring of regenerating atoms that powers said 900 Newtons of armor. You had learned from Namjoon that the first prototype of the famous device was developed in a cave (with a box of scraps), back when he and Jungkook were captured by a band of terrorists in the Middle East. It was essentially a multi-isotope radioactive decay cell that mashed two isotopes of hydrogen together, aka a ring of charged particles moving within a magnetic field fast enough to allow for high-energy collisions. The impossibly compact device supposedly releases enough energy to power large cities for millennia but was destroyed in some epic battle last year.

Since then Jungkook has invented a new means of powering his suits, one that entailed the creation of a new element, which you couldn’t even begin to fathom how but decide against questioning the legitimacy of such a feat after he shows you the nth permutation of the substance in a vial. You vaguely remember reading about it in an article online at the time he announced it to the world, a new discovery that erupted as breaking news in the scientific community and sparked countless debates between chemists and physicists around the globe, but the details of such an invention were understandably not released to the public, leaving nothing but assumption-based speculation about its exact molecular make up.

“The ultimate goal is size reduction.” Jungkook’s voice echoes through the lab as you trail not too far behind the tall man.

“It’s already hamburger-sized, wouldn’t it be dangerous, if not impossible, to condense that sort of fusion reaction any more than it already is?”

Jungkook chuckles as if your concern was completely ungrounded. “What’s the worse that could happen?”

“It might, I dunno… blow up.”

“It won’t blow up.” He looks at you with a bored expression before proceeding to turn the machine on.

He’s still trying to figure out how to get you to have some faith in him, and as hard as it is to admit, it honestly isn’t even about his ego anymore. He just wants you to know that he knows what he’s doing and that there are some things out there, or more accurately quite a few, that you can rely on him to handle. Like saving the world, protecting you from harm, and not blowing up his own house.

Even with his nonchalant attitude, your skepticism persisted, or maybe it was precisely because he was acting so blasé about the whole thing that fueled your concern evermore and elicited such a perpetual chariness for everything he did. Although you haven’t actually seen him mess up big time in the period you’ve been working with him, you’re not too keen on the way he runs risks like they’re unworthy of precaution or the way he lets his confidence dictate the statistical probability that something could go wrong. You also haven’t personally witnessed any of the heroic deeds he’s done in the past first hand, but from the looks of what’s usually broadcasted in the news, he’s run into his fair share of mishaps.

It was only a couple hours into the day when the unthinkable-or perhaps it’s rather predictable-happens, and you can’t say that you haven’t weighed out the risks of working alongside Iron Man before taking the job, but you also thought you’d at least be given a heads up when trouble decides to pay you a surprise visit. But no, that’s definitely not how things work around here. Just as you were about to examine the old prototypes to make a list of all the upgrades that have yet to be implemented, you feel the room begin to rumble, the metal pieces on the table commence vibrating like you were in a airplane flying through a rough patch of turbulence.

“What the hell is that?” Jungkook mutters, looking around the room in confusion.

Your eyes immediately dart towards the reactor, its beams still glowing brightly in the glass casing connected to the machine.

“So much for it won’t blow up,” You grumble as Jungkook tsks in annoyance.

“Stay here” He shouts as he rushes over to turn the machine off, looking around frantically to identify the cause of the quaking floor but to no avail.  

“Shit” You curse as you hear an explosion from above, eyes widening as panic ensues.  

“Oh boy” Jungkook voices as he dashes to grab his wristband control for his Iron Man suit.

“It’s not coming from the reactor.” You shout, eyes popping and jaw dropping as you stared at fragments of the ceiling cracking and falling in chunks of rock and dirt.  

“What a surprise” Jungkook retorts back as the roof begins collapsing.

“What’s happening?” You scream, coughing violently as your lungs begin to close off due to the plume of debris from the falling building thickening the air. There was another loud boom, shaking the entire room and making you fall to your knees as the ground started to tilt like a seesaw.

“Jungkook!” You shriek again in mid-cough after he doesn’t respond and bits of rubble continued to rain down from the demolished ceiling. You lift your arms to cover your head, curling up into a fetal position as if that would protect you from the dropping hunks of metal and concrete.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” His voice assures, cutting through the static flittering of torn electrical wires from his damaged machines. “Though, I’m still offended that you actually thought I would make such a novice mistake with the reactor.” He shakes his head, disappointed at your lack of trust in him. This was unmistakably an enemy attack, as indicated by the bombs being dropped from some aircraft carrier in the sky.

“Jungkook!” You scream again as another explosion detonates from the left.

“Here catch!” You hear his voice layer over the loud blast and a familiar item slide towards your feet. His wristband suit control. You quickly reach over to grab it, squeezing your eyes shut as the suit begins to cover your body, shielding you from the rapidly disintegrating walls and unrelenting eruptions.

You couldn’t see anything, and your eyes dart around the smoke, mind racing to find where Jungkook is, praying that he’s also protected by another one of his Iron Man suits and unharmed. But to your dismay, he’s not. You spot his unconscious body lying beneath a collapse slab of concrete, blood running from his temple. Fuck. Why didn’t he use the armor himself? Why did he toss it to you before he could shield himself? Is he insane? Just as you make a move towards him, you feel a force sucking you up. It was like you were unable to move, having no control over whatever was dragging you up in the air. The ground was getting further and further away as you ascended in the suit by some outside force not within your control. The upward motion stops at the loud clanking of metal against metal, leaving you suspended above the collapsing mansion. You watch in horror as the entire building begins to breakdown, crumbling down the mountain like an avalanche.

No.

Jungkook.

“Jungkook!!!!” Your scream, but none of it can be heard.

This was bad. Very, very bad.

 …

 There is no way this is actually happening.

You continue to chant the words under your breath, pinching your eyes shut and attempting to wake up from this nightmare.

Lucid dream. It’s just a lucid dream.

It’s the thought that’s stubbornly plastered to the front of your mind, like that white lie you tell yourself in order to stall having to face the impending doom head on, to stall having to watch the disintegration of the last bit of dwindling optimism with open eyes, and to ignore having to acknowledge the wreckage that has already manifested. It’s the only thing that keeps you from sinking into a panic-driven attack, providing a delusional façade to conceal the reality that there’s a possibility that Jungkook might’ve just died and you might just be reaching the cusp of the end of the world. His death is the one thing you don’t want to think about because that would just leave this entire situation void of any hope, any silver lining, but that image of the mansion folding in on itself and tumbling down the mountain is tattooed to the back of your eyes and it won’t go away.

No, this can’t be real. He couldn’t have just died so easily. He was Iron Man.

Repeating the words don’t help at all, not when you’re currently stuck to some massive lump of metal alloy, unable to move, unable to escape. From the looks of it, you were being flown to the North Korean border. You should’ve known some secret organization from there was behind this sneak attack. They had been trying to steel military technology for years now; it was only a matter of time before Iron Man became their next target.

And now, you find yourself in some empty warehouse, stuck on what you suspect to be a giant magnet-the very one that they captured you with and had brought over on their aircraft carrier. It was dark, and the only light source was the subdued daylight filtering through the dusty windows lined on the longitudinal walls. There was a group of men with machine guns surrounding you, and a leader in the center staring intently at you as if he were waiting for you to take the metal helmet off. Well, that wasn’t happening anytime soon. You barely knew how to walk in the suit, let alone work its controls.

“You can go if you hand over the suit.” The leader of the masked men declares, scrutinizing your movements carefully, not that you could even move at this point.

“Hell no.” You spit back, letting them know there was no way they were getting the suit, especially not when the safety of the world was on the line. “Over my dead body.”

You notice the widening of his eyes at the sound of your voice. “Iron Man is a woman?” His is undoubtedly surprised by the unexpected higher pitch.

“I’m not Iron Man.” You snap back, mind racing with thoughts on what to do. There’s no way you can get out of this place without taking the suit off, but would they actually let you go if you surrendered? They’re probably lying, tricking you to give up the suit. You’ve heard of people who have been captured by the North, being tortured to death with the most brutal of techniques, and it was safe to say, you’ve never heard of anyone making it out alive.

“Well if you’re not coming out, we’ll just wait until you die in there then.” He chortles. He turns and signals for the rest of his men to leave with him when a voice from the entrance interrupts.

“Yoo-hoo! I don’t mean to intrude, but Iron Man is over here.” You hear a familiar voice reverberate throughout the warehouse.

Jungkook

“You might want to work on your front line of defense. You know, for future reference.” The relief that washes over you that instant you see him in the classic red and gold suit of armor is like none you’ve ever experienced before, because it just confirmed that Jungkook was alive and he’s come to save you as Iron Man.  

“You?” The leader sneers.

“Yeah, so let her go.” Jungkook’s voice is stern and demanding, but without responding to his request, the masked leader orders his henchmen to begin shooting at Jungkook immediately.

The sound of bullets hitting metal echoes through the warehouse, ricocheting off the walls and ringing in everyone’s ears, a vibration so cacophonous that the men stop shooting to cover their ears. After the gunpowder clears, it’s obvious that his suit remained unscathed, red and gold paint still smooth and glossy, shining like a newly waxed car under the sunlight.  

“What part of bulletproof is hard to understand?” Jungkook comments, still standing tall and un-phased after the series of gunshots that were cast as him.

“You can take the girl in exchange for the suit.” The masked leader growls, acting like he was still in full control of the situation. Could this guy be any denser?

Jungkook only chuckles to that sorry ass of a threat. “In any other scenario I might’ve taken you up of that offer, but you’re not really in the position to bribe me right now are you?”

“Have you lost your ability to attract women? Why is this one so special to you?” The man inquires-a feeble attempt at trying to get into Jungkook’s head-as the rest of his men keep their guns pointed towards him.

“Wow, you guys watch our news too?” Jungkook cocks his head to the left, helmet making a metallic squeak. He was practically in the news everyday back during his playboy days. 

“We monitor our enemies.”

“I don’t want to toot my own horn-aw who am I kidding? I’ll have you know, I’ve never once had trouble pleasuring myself, thank you very much.”

“Enough of the chit-chat, so what’s it going to be Jeon? The woman or your precious suit?” He was getting irritated now, as evident through his brash mandate and raised voice. 

Jungkook sighs, loud enough to hear through the helmet. “And to think I actually thought this would turn out to be more interesting.”

Shaking his head, he fires a series of miniature missile from his shoulder pads straight into the barrels of their guns, making them all explode in their faces, knocking the group of men out without even breaking a sweat.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” He says, running over to you and waiting for you to come down from where you were levitated. “Well? What are you waiting for?”  

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of stuck to the magnet.”

“Use electromagnetic interference.” He instructs.

“What?”

“Again, the disappointment.” Jungkook sighs again. “Y/N, do you seriously think I haven’t already solved the magnet problem? The suit is equipped with multiple electromagnet generators that allows for the manipulation of the surrounding electromagnet field. It’s strong enough to redirect ferrous projectiles in flight. No? Doesn’t even sound remotely like something I would’ve thought of?” He shakes his head; the damaged pride from you looking down upon his genius is practically seeping out of the suit at this point.

You on the other hand, sense your face heating up, almost feeling the need to apologize for your own incompetence. Of course this whole “stuck on the giant magnet” issue was a matter of you not actually knowing how to use the suit and not Jungkook’s elementary mistake or his overlooking of an essential function.

“It’s this button near the chest.” He reaches over and presses it, and the minute it’s activated you fall off the metal wall and land back on the ground.

“T-thanks”

“No problem. All in the days work of Iron Man.” He shrugs, trying to make you feel better about everything that’s happened. You smile even though you're fully aware he can’t see it anyways.

 The two of you begin walking out of the warehouse in hopes of finding a spot where you could fly back to Seoul unnoticed. You walk beside him, almost forgetting about the tragic events that occurred prior to him coming to the rescue and asking about how he managed to escape because you were so caught up in replaying that moment he showed up just in the nick of time to rescue you. You were still pretty unaccustomed to moving in the suit, and it wasn’t too surprising when you accidentally swing your arm and punch Jungkook in the side whilst lost in your dreamy thoughts like some teenage girl who just got asked out by her crush. Such an act normally wouldn’t cause a reaction from him at all, but he suddenly hunches over and grunts in agony.

“Oh my god, you’re still hurt aren’t you?” You gasp, snapping awake and remembering he was still trapped in the collapsing building the last time you saw him.

“Eh, I’ve been through worse.” His metal masks opens up and you can see he’s sweating profusely, whether it was due to the pain or if his wounds have become infected, you don’t know.”

“Jungkook, you’re hurt!”

“Hey, at least I managed to save you. I’d call that a win.”

You feel your eyes swelling with tears triggered by a chaotic mixture of panic, concern, and gratitude.

“Stay with me, Jungkook, you can’t lose consciousness.”

“I think I need a short nap.” 

“No! You’re Jeon Jungkook” You look at him in desperation. “Genius, billionaire, philanthropist, playboy-

“International playboy” Jungkook corrects, before letting out another groan of pain as he tries to lift an arm to caress your helmet covered face.

“Whatever, the point is, you’re Iron Man, one of the coolest superheroes in existence. You can’t give up. The world needs you. I need you.”  

A weak smile forms on Jungkook’s face before his eyelids begin to droop.  

“I’ll take that as a yes to the date I’m about to ask you on.”

It was obviously not the place to be talking about such things, but Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t be Jeon Jungkook if he weren’t being sassy in even the most traumatizing of situations. You smile and let out a sniffle-laced laugh as more tears run down your cheeks.  

 …

 “He’ll be fine in no time.” Namjoon says as he brings you a cup of water. “He’s recovered from injuries ten times worse than this.” He reassures, patting your shoulder as you remained seated next to an unconscious Jungkook lying on his bed.

With the destruction of his luxurious mansion, you had to temporarily stay at the penthouse of Jeon Tower, the tallest high-rise building in Seoul owned by none other than Jeon Jungkook. Luckily he had stayed conscious long enough to fly the both of you back to the city because you had no idea what the plan was after taking down that band of North Korean infiltrators. Namjoon had been waiting at the top of the building, making sure he had a doctor on call to tend to Jungkook’s wounds. They weren’t severe as stated by his personal doctor, Dr. Park, a young medical practitioner who specializes in cardiac surgery, just some cuts and minor internal bleeding.

You had stayed around to take care of Jungkook while he was bedridden for a couple of days. His vegetative state was concerning, but you trusted Dr. Park and Namjoon’s instincts, after all they were used to this stuff happening more often than not. You’ve been keeping yourself awake for the most part, sleeping only when your eyes could not stay open, but never leaving the Jungkook’s side. You technically owe him your life, so it was the least you could do. You allow your eyes to gloss over his features, never having seen him so calm and at peace. His lips were slightly parted as he remained in a deep, unadulterated slumber, feathery bangs resting gently on his forehead. You don’t restrain yourself from tentatively reaching over and cupping his cheek, admiring how such a youthful person can carry the burden of being the unstoppable hero that is Iron Man.  

Jungkook’s eyes flutter slightly as your hand comes into contact with his face, slowly opening and adjusting to the diaphanous light cascading through the open window. His pupils dart around lazily, trying to analyze the situation as his mind gradually returned to reality.

“Hey” He whispers when he sees you by his bedside.

“Oh you’re awake, thank god.” You let out a breath of relief.

“Sounds like I was out for a while.”

“To the point where I thought you wouldn’t wake up.”

He smiles at the way you gaze at him endearingly, sluggish eyes slowly gaining that usual spark you were so used to seeing.

“And miss seeing your beautiful face? No way.”

You roll your eyes. “Your net worth is $12 Billion USD, why did you choose to save me over yourself? Doesn’t seem like a smart move on Iron Man’s part.”

“Half of me wants to say it was just my superhero side kicking in.” He admits, grunting as he tries to move into a sitting position.

“Superheroes don’t spring into action without their suits.” You state, standing up right away and supporting him up.

“Call it instinct, but I-I guess I just didn’t know what I would do if something were to happen to you.” His voice comes out as a whisper, but his statement hits you directly in the heart.

 …

 With you tending to his wounds for the next few days, Jungkook’s recovery happens a lot quicker than either Dr. Park or Namjoon had predicted. You had disinfected all of his cuts on a regular basis, prepared his medication as instructed, and aided him in his daily activities for well over a week now, but it was on one particular night when you thought he had fully recovered that you allowed yourself to let your guard down, which you were soon led to believe might’ve been a mistake.

You hear a groan of pain emanate from the next room over, and without a second thought, you rush over to the bedroom to find a naked Jungkook. Upon seeing his bare back, you immediately turn around, face nearly exploding from the heat rush.

“I-I thought it was your injury.” You stutter, heart beating a mile a minute.

“Nah, I just stubbed my toe as I was trying to take off my pants.” He responds, acting like you didn’t just bust in on him when he was literally butt naked, like no underwear or anything, not that you actually took note.

There’s a moment of silence, one in which your nerves continue to grow because Jungkook had stopped talking and you don’t know why you feel like you’re physically rooted to the spot because you should’ve exited the room by now and Jungkook was probably just waiting for you to leave.

“O-Oh, ok I’ll just go then!” You declare quickly before taking a step forward. But just as you were about to sprint out of the room, you feel an arm grab onto you and flip you around to face him.

He was still naked.

Your eyes immediately squeeze shut and if your heart was beating a mile a minute before, it feels like it’s traveling faster than the speed of light now. What the fuck is he doing? You think, still holding your breath as if you were submerged underwater.

You hear him chuckle lightly.

“Am I finally making you nervous?” His voice is low and seductive, albeit not without that playful hint that it’s always laced with. 

“N-no” You lie, eyes still shut as tightly as you can manage.

“Then are you going to open your eyes anytime soon?”

You mentally scold yourself for acting so childish at seeing a naked man. It’s not like you’ve never seen one before. Doctors and medical students do it all the time, why are you acting like the human body is some forbidden fruit that you’re not allowed to eat?

You take one last long breath and slowly open your eyes. His face is only half a foot away from yours and all you can seem to do is get lost in his huge doe-eyes- dark speckled orbs more ethereal than the view of the cosmic scenery from atop the clouds-making you momentarily forget the actual situation you were in.

“Like what you see?” He whispers, warm breath sweeping against your bare neck as you swallow. 

You feel a rush of tingling need crawl up your spine, heat swelling toward your extremities from your pulsating center.

“Is this how Mr. International Playboy seduces women?”

He huffs a shortened laugh and looks down at the floor before raising his head and peering at you with a mischievous expression. “Only you.” 

He waits for that discernable hint of opposition to taint your eyes, to perhaps be laced in your features, but receives none because all the signs you were showing now-the subtle lip biting, the lustful glint in your irises, the slightly trembling legs-are conveying that you want him-badly, and before you know it, his hands are cupping your face and his luscious lips are crashing against yours.

You feel his hands meander down your body, groping and massaging your flesh as he continues to deepen the kiss, inhaling every bit of you like he’s been waiting for this for an eternity. The instant his hands come to rest at your waist, you wrap your arms around his neck, closing the distance between your clothed chest and his bare body. He lifts you off the ground and you straddle him as he carries you over to his perfectly made king-sized bed. With only the thin, lightweight fabric of your cotton shorts separating your center from his gradually hardening cock, you can’t help but embrace the growing need flooding your core while Jungkook’s lips remain connected to yours, moving in slow but sensual motions.

He breaks away momentarily as he lays you down on your back, the coolness of his silken bed sheets shocking your heated nerves in waves of rushing tides.

“I need to confirm that this is something you want.” Jungkook says, voice reverting back to his businessman tone. “Verbal consent.”

You soak in the anticipation encasing his visage as he awaits your response with a kind of patience and formality that only Jeon Jungkook and Iron Man can whip out at a moment like this.

“And if I don’t give it?” You quirk an eyebrow, teasing him to see how he would react.

“Then it stops here.”

“Jungkook, wait” You snatch onto his arm before he can leave. “I want you to fuck me.”

A smirk stretches across his lips. “You take joy in driving me insane don’t you?” He exhales, before diving back into kissing you, hungrily suckling onto your lips as he slowly slips his arm under your shorts.

“I can say the same about you.” You gasp, between his twirling tongue and dancing fingers.

“Oh, but correction. I’m not going to fuck you.” He says in his composed, explaining-a-scientific-theory voice, pausing yet again and making you groan at the lack of stimulation. “I’m going to make love to you.”

You roll your eyes, but you’d be lying if you his statement wasn’t endearing in its own quirky way.

“Please” You beg, hoping he stops randomly pausing just to prove that his logic is superior.  

You barely catch that mysterious twinkle in his eyes before he’s down on his knees, positioning his head between your legs as he tugs your shorts down, exposing the soft flesh that is already moistened by your juices.

“And so marks the end of you not being impressed by Iron Man” He says, gradually working his way to your opening, leaving a trail of pecks leading up to the fleshy folds. He tentatively teases the flabs, tongue gliding over the entrance making you jolt from the sudden stimulus. He alternates between sucking on your clitoris and eating you out with care, like a man on a mission because you are unlike any other woman he’s tasted before and he wants nothing more than to pleasure you and only you.

You spread your legs wider for him, feeling a flame being lit in the pit of your stomach as he continues to suckle at your already throbbing core. The sound of your emitted moans are driving his senses crazy and prompting him to delve deeper into your opening with his tongue. You know you won’t be able to hold on much longer, and Jungkook senses it too as you arch your back and squirm under his steady grip on both of your thighs.

“C-Come up, I want to ride you.” You manage to voice, sitting up as Jungkook rises from off the ground upon your command.

“Someone’s feisty,” He comments with a smirk before laying flat on the bed, his arousal evident by the precum already dripping down his shaft.  

You cautiously position yourself on top of Jungkook, straddling his waist as you tug your shirt off, unclasping your bra and throwing it off to the side. You closely observe the way his eyes trace down your neck and widen as they land on your exposed breasts. He swallows, chest rising and falling but otherwise remaining motionless as he watches unblinkingly at your every move. You see his Adam’s apple bobble up and down as you lift your body to angle yourself against him, aligning your opening with his cock, and using your fingers to separate your already drenched folds before slowly sinking down on his erection centimeter by centimeter, pausing now and then to adjust to his girth. You let out a series of whimpers as you feel your walls being stretched to their limit, expanding to make room for him as you lowered yourself hilt deep.  

Jungkook lets out a guttural moan once he is completely inside of you. He’s never been in such a compromising position, always preferring to be the one in control, whether he was facing an enemy or fucking some slut to oblivion back in his reckless playboy days, but with you it was different. He took pleasure in the way you rode him, the look on your face as you bit down on your bottom lip, eyes pinched shut as you tried to stall coming entirely undone just to make the moment last.

“That’s it baby-mm, keep going.” He asserts, throwing his head back as you rocked your hips against him.

You keep your hands pressed against his bare chest, stabilizing yourself as you moved your lower half. It wasn’t long before you felt yourself nearing the brink.

“Fuck, J-JungkookI- I-” With your movements staggering as you feel the approach of your oncoming orgasm, Jungkook decides to take matters into his own hands just before your release. He sits up and flips you on your back; your legs still wrapped around his lower half.

“Allow me” He hums, leaning down and pulling you back into a kiss as he begins to thrust in and out of your opening, one arm reaching down and rubbing circles against your clit.

He pumps in and out, smooth and practiced, an art form perfected from past experience and yet something tells you he’s never made love to a woman quite like this before. Maybe it was the way he maintained a stable line of eye contact as he caressed your cheek with his free hand, like he was searching for some answer within your soul that confirmed you were the one and he’s finally found the only person who has the ability to keep him grounded, even when he soaring above the clouds. That person he’s been waiting for whose concern for him is not tied to his duty to protect the planet or dependent upon his continual success in everything he’s expected to excel in. The sincerity in your faint smile and the tender speckles of solace reflected in your irises are more than enough to convey to him that you are, indeed, that person.

You make it an undertaking to memorize every last aspect of this long awaited moment, tracing down his beautiful features as he stared longingly and lovingly into your eyes. You take notice of how he’s trying to calm his breathing and the way he’s keeping his upper body stable just so he can direct his attention towards you, an unspoken validation that you were the only thing that mattered right then and there. The look of concentration and pure focus molding every inch of his face is comparable to the way he looks when he’s designing world changing technology, and it makes you feel extraordinarily special, just like his unmatched suit of armor. The moonlight continues to spill through the large glass walls casting shadows across the room and delivering reminders of the lively city a hundreds floors below. With the pressure growing at an exponential pace, you know you’re close to brink and the falter in Jungkook’s steady breathing gives an indication that he is too.

“F-ffuck” Jungkook moans as he feels your walls clench around him, making him wince and sink his own teeth down on his lower lip as he’s dragged to the edge.

“J-Jungkook, I-I’m-”

You both release at the same time, highs reaching their end in a hot euphoric drowning out of all senses, making the room spin, and leaving both parties desperately gasping for air. All you can feel is the pleasure coursing through every nook and cranny of your being, and the weight of Jungkook’s body falling on top of yours as he continues to whisper your name in between his ragged panting.

“God, I am so in love with you.” He says as he rolls off of you and onto his back, but not without turning back and cradling you in his strong embrace.

“I love you too, Jungkook, or Iron Man, or whatever you want to be referred to as.” You giggle, nuzzling your face into the curve of his neck, placing gentle kisses on his sweat glistening skin.

“Does that mean you’ll stop doubting my abilities?”

“Depends on what abilities we’re talking.” You tease.

“Damn you’re hard to impress.”

You only giggle at that. It’s not your fault he’s shown you so many of his cards.

He closes his eyes, blissfully saturated in the scent of your hair and the warmth of your intertwined bodies, wishing he could stay like this forever. “So what do you say about trying out black and silver for the suit?”

You take a moment to consider his proposal, imaging the suit sporting a new combination of colors. It’ll probably look really cool either way, but you ultimately decide that nothing can compare to his signature look, the one that screams nothing but Iron Man and the awesomeness of one of the coolest superheroes in the history of superheroes.

“Actually, I prefer red and gold.”  

...

[killiancygnus]

Serendipitous Melody 19/22

Summary: Everyone has dreams. You might dream of becoming an astronaut or teacher, or you might want to become a doctor and save as many lives you can. Emma Swan’s childhood dream was being a singer. But with life getting in the way and never finding the courage to overcome her fears, she never had a chance to follow it. That is until a little push from her friends lead her to cash on an opportunity; and, who knows, she might even get more than what she’d wished for.

Rated: T

Word count: ~4.4k

A/N: *hides behind a Christmas tree* Hi! I’m so so sorry for the delay! This chapter was a bitch to write and between life and uni, I didn’t have much time to write in the past month or so. I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway! It might take me a while to update once again though because I have exams until the end of February but I swear chapter 20 will be long and angsty so I hope you won’t mind. Don’t forget to let me know what you think about this update!

Thanks to the wonderful @the-reason-to-sail-home for her mad betaing skills.

Tagging some friends: @mahstatins, @villains-happy-ending , @stardusted-nymph, @allisonchameron, @kmomof4, @hencethebravery, @katie-dub, @captainwiley , @irishswanff, @thejollypirate, @dassala , @imhookedonaswan, @ofshipsandswans , @legendofthephoenixcs, @yayimallamaagain and @londonsbridge

If you want to be tagged too let me know :)

Links: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9- Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 / AO3

The ominous clicking of his father’s cane echoed down the halls as Neal sat on the couch next to the fire, quietly sipping a glass of wine. He knew his father knew was aware of what he had done. There was little he couldn't find out. The leverage and the ties he had made it impossible for the people he had on his watch list to keep any secrets, and that included Neal too. He was well aware of that but he didn't really care, he never did. It wasn't like he was ever going to reach for him first. All his father always cared about was getting what he wanted - a trait he had inherited, Neal had to admit - but this time, it so appeared they had a few interests in common.

“Calling her wasn't a wise move, son,” Mr Gold said entering the room, his tone flat but revealing a hint of annoyance.

Neal didn't even turn to face him.

“For as much as we'd like to believe that, neither she nor Jones are stupid. They'd put two and two together. And if they didn’t, miss Mills would,” he continued, pondering each word as he walked around the couch so that Neal would see the strained grin on his face. “You were selfish and careless, not to mention foolishly impatient. Our plans might go downhill because of what you have just done.”

Neal placed the glass on the small table next him. “The plans that don't seem to be having the effect they were supposed to, you mean.”

“What you were expecting? Her to leave Jones’s side after the first difficulty arose? Her to run back into your arms as soon as you stumbled back into her life with a phone call?”  

At hearing his father words, Neal shot up, hands clenched into fists. “I have done my waiting!” he shouted. “You have your personal vendetta for what happened to mother and I understand that, but once again there’s something that for you is more important than me. Emma has been the first and only person that truly cared about me. She was mine! I was stupid enough to let both her and my son go, that’s true, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stop fighting for what is mine. And as it happens, our interests are very much alike; that's why we are here, working together, no matter how much I might not like it. So yes, excuse me for being a little impatient.”

Mr Gold bit his lower lip, his jaw set. He was trying not to yell back at him in rage and keep that coldly stern face of his, Neal could see that. He didn't care about how much he had enraged or hurt his father, though. He meant what he said, every single word of it. But honestly, it shouldn't have been news to him. Their relationship had always been somewhat dysfunctional, especially ever since his mother died.

“Son, I…” he started, not really knowing what to say. “You might be right. However, you must remember that this article's purpose was just to undermine her securities, weaken her for when we'll strike again. And you know what will happen then.”

“Hell will break loose,” Neal whispered, the reflection of the fire in his eyes making them look even wilder than they actually were.

Robert Gold smirked, taking a step closer to his son. “Oh, that it will.”

Saying Neal’s call had shaken her was an understatement. She wouldn't talk much about it, but he could see it in her eyes. She had been dealing with the Henry situation and all the hateful messages and nasty articles that were directed at her, which both left a veil of hurt and hopelessness in her eyes. It was only after that call that the carefree and joyful part of Emma, that it took so long for him to see and help her set free, became just a fond memory. All the walls around her heart he had managed to break, she had started to build back up that night.

It pained him to see her like that, so fragile, so vulnerable, nevermind the stoic masks she would put whenever she realised her feelings were written all over her face, but he didn’t know what to do. All he could do was hold her, show her how much he loved her, try not to let her think about anything that was weighing on her, and yet he could still see the uncertainty she tried so hard to hide.

Those bloody tweets had gotten to her in a way he didn’t know how to make better. It wasn’t like he could publicly condemn those people without arising more questions about his and Emma’s relationship. And that was definitely not the time to come out as a couple.

It was a mess. A bloody fucking mess. And the words that fucker whispered in her ear that night on the boat sure as hell hadn’t made things any easier.

They had informed Regina about Neal’s threats as soon as possible the following morning. At least she did look surprised this time at this new turn of events, but the small flicker of genuine shock on her face was soon replaced by a calculating look.

“Miss Swan,” she said before him and Emma could unstick their legs away from the narrow space between the desk and the chairs’ legs and leave her office, “I've been doing some thinking since the last time we met. Sit.”

Killian and Emma shared a confused (and from her part worried) glance as they sat back down.

“In light of the most recent developments, I think it's time for you to properly meet my - our - son. What do you say, Miss Swan?”

From the corner of his eye, Killian noticed Emma staring agape at Regina. Conscious that no word would fall from her mouth anytime soon, judging by the deer-in-the-highlights look she had, he spoke, “Wait a second. Are you suggesting Emma to tell Henry she's his mother?”

“That's exactly what I'm saying, Jones.”

“Why?” Emma stuttered, finally able to mutter a word, “Neal is threatening to do everything he can to get to him, including destroying my reputation and now you want him to meet me?”

“I have to admit it’s not the best of ways for him to meet his mother, but as you said, Neal won’t stop before he gets what he wants. Henry deserves to know who the man is who will make everyone constantly worried about his safety and who will try to throw shade over Killian and you.”

Emma opened her mouth to protest but then shut it without even saying a word. Killian sighed. Regina was right, he knew that. The kid couldn’t just stay in the dark, especially not with that curious nature of his. He was far too observant and clever for his own good, he would find out both about Emma and his father sooner or later. It was better for him to hear the story directly from his mother or Emma herself, as things seemed to be headed to.

“Maybe,” he started tentatively, feeling Emma’s attention focusing on him. “Maybe you could drop him one day next week after school. He’s been wanting me to teach him to play the guitar for ages. I could teach him the basics, and then me and Emma could talk to him.”  

Killian ignored Emma’s pointed look and just looked straight ahead at Regina.

“Yeah, that could work,” she agreed, and then smirked, “It seems like there’s a brain behind the eyeliner, after all.”

Killian glared at her and made to talk back a witty remark when Emma’s uncharacteristically feeble voice interrupted him. “Wait.”

As two pairs of eyes landed on her, Emma cleared her voice and straightened her back. “I don’t think it’s a great idea. I mean, it is but he might get suspicious. As far as I know, he doesn’t own a guitar and unless you are hiding a past as a rock star, of which I’m very sceptical about,” she said for Killian’s amusement, gesturing at Regina, “you don’t look like you own one either. Knowing Henry, he would wonder how he could practice in between lessons.”

Regina pursed her lips in annoyance. “I’ll talk with Robin. I’m sure he’ll share one of his guitars with him, Miss Swan. Do you have anything else to say?”

She only gave Emma the time to shake her head that she continued, “Wonderful. I’ll drop Henry at yours Friday afternoon. Try to bring him back in one piece, please.”

And that was how they found themselves Friday afternoon, sitting on the sofa, waiting for Regina to arrive with Henry. Thank goodness Friday was only a few days away from that meeting, because Killian thought Emma would combust with nervous energy, judging by how much her left leg was trembling, making him feel like he was sitting on one of those massage couches.

“Emma…” Killian sighed, putting a hand on her knee to still her movement.

Blushing, Emma willed her leg to stop twitching. “I’m sorry,” she apologised, looking up at him, “I’m just -”

“Nervous. I know love.”

The soft, reassuring smile Killian gave her didn’t even have the time to fade away from his lips, that the intercom buzzed, making Emma jump on her seat. Trying to suppress a chuckle, he leaned in to give her a sweet, gentle peck on her lips before going outside to fetch the boy.

By the time he made it to the swimming pool, a small figure run up to him and threw their hands around his waist.

“Killian!” Henry shouted.

“Hello to you too, lad,” Killian laughed, ruffling his hair. “Why don’t you go inside and put away that backpack of yours? I’ll be right behind you.”

Without making Killian asking him twice, Henry bolted towards the door. Killian didn’t move right away though. His eyes met Regina’s through the windows of her car, and it was only after he gave her a nod, that he turned around following Henry inside.

As soon as he got back in, he was happy to see Henry already chatting away with Emma about his latest favourite book. Hearing him walking in, she lifted her gaze up and smiled a beautiful, happy smile he just couldn’t help return.

“- And it’s not a normal book of fairytales. They are all twisted and linked together. Like Captain Hook is actually good even though he…”

“Well, of course,” Killian agreed, interrupting the boy’s excited babbling, “I’m always a gentleman after all.”

“Not you Killian! Captain Hook!”

Killian winked at Henry’s offended exclamation, making Emma burst out laughing. “I don’t think he sees the difference,” she said in between giggles, putting a hand on Henry’s shoulder, as if she sided with the lad. Rude.

“Anyway, if you guys have to play the guitar, you better go upstairs and get started.”

Nodding at her suggestion, Killian climbed up the stairs, shortly followed by both Henry and Emma, on the lad’s insistence. Not hearing Henry’s steps behind him anymore after turning in the corridor towards the music room, he gave a quick look behind his back and stopped. “Where are you going, lad? The music room is this way.”

“I know,” Henry replied from the other end of the corridor, “But the bathroom is this way!”

Chuckling, Killian shook his head and took Emma’s hand leading her inside the room.

“Everything alright, love?” He asked, leaving her hand only to put it on her hips with the other and bringing her close. “Butterflies stopped flying around your stomach?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, putting her arms around his neck, “those kind of butterflies did, as for the others…”

Giggling, he captured her lips in a short loving kiss. “Good,” he whispered against her lips, “Although, there’s no need to flirt with me, Swan. I’m already yours.”

“I know, but if I don’t who’s gonna keep your ego all happy and fed?”

“Well…” Killian started, not wanting to pass an occasion to see Emma’s unamused face. She was adorable whenever she did that. He told her many times, but somehow she had always been pretty unconvinced about it. To him she was always beautiful, that was true, but it hurt him to think that she didn’t think the same of herself.

“Will you stay here watch us?” he asked, once she stopped side-eyeing him, uncertainty once more appearing on her face.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll stay for a bit and then I’ll go downstairs baking some cookies. I’m sure Henry would like some later, boys his age are usually hungry all the time, right?”

Killian smiled, before leaning in and leaving a kiss on top of her nose. “That’s a wonderful idea, love,” he whispered, as his lips travelled down towards hers to kiss her one more time.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but it did feel like minutes when Henry’s voice made them jump apart. “Eww, gross!” He screeched, making a disgusted face from behind the door before trotting in.

In spite of the deep blush covering her cheeks, Emma was the one who recovered first. “So,” she started, stopping to clear her throat in embarrassment, “are you ready to start?”

“Duh,” he said, taking a seat on the circular couch, where a guitar was waiting for him, shortly followed by Killian.

He started showing Henry how to hold the guitar and where to put his fingers to play an easy song. Emma stayed there for a while, watching them with a smile on her lips, deep in thought. He couldn’t tell what was going through her mind, though. He could read her quite easily most of the times, but apparently it wasn’t the case that day. It was only after Henry managed to play his very first song without much hesitation, that she left, not before giving the boy a round of applause and making his cheeks go red.

They played for a couple of hours before they considered it enough for a day. Killian was sure though, that if it wasn’t for the delicious aroma coming from downstairs, Henry would have wanted to continue until Regina would have come pick him up. However, as soon as he smelled cookies in the air, he asked if they could stop and sprinted downstairs, much to Killian’s amusement. That kid had far too much energy for his own good, maybe making him eat cookies wasn’t the smartest idea, but he was about to find out a lot about his past, he could eat all the cookies he wanted if that meant he’d be more inclined to take well what Emma was going to tell him. A little bribery never hurt anyone.

After tidying up a little, Killian followed Henry downstairs and sat on the far end of the sofa pretending to work on his phone. It was the perfect spot: there Emma could easily see him if she needed some reassuring or him to come help her out, and he could hear what they were talking about.

“Hey! Are you hungry, kid?” Emma asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “Yeah? Then what are you waiting for? Take a seat.”

After a few moments, Henry exclaimed gulping down a first bite of cookie, “They’re so good! How many can I have?”

Emma chuckled at the lad's contagious enthusiasm. “Well, considering your mom is pretty scary when angry and I don't know how well you handle sugar, I'd say we can be safe with two more, kid.”

Whooping, Henry wolfed down the rest of the cookie in his hands before taking another. “My mom calls me kid, you know?” He said, once his mouth became free to talk once again. “My biological mom, I mean. Her and I email sometimes.”

At his words, Killian put down his phone and sat up, closely watching Emma’s reaction. Her posture was stiff and she was nervously playing with her nails under the table, but aside from that, she definitely didn't look like someone whose son had just made a pretty much spot on and completely out of the blue remark.  

“Yeah, I know,” she nodded, her voice wavering a little.

Henry frowned, the cookie up in the air and on its way to his mouth now forgotten. “How?”

“Because I'm her. I'm Emma.”

Henry stared at her agape for a few long moments. “You’re my mom?”

“Yeah,” Emma breathed out, her voice so small Killian almost couldn't hear it. “I guess you must have many questions, don't you?” She added with a nervous chuckle.

Seeing the way the lad had basically frozen, Killian couldn't help hold his breath in worry for his reaction, much like Emma he suspected. Slowly, Henry put the cookie down on the napkin and stood up, looking straight at Emma. In spite of the fear he was going to bolt, she held his gaze.

It all happened in a matter of seconds then. First mother and son were staring at each other, then he threw his arms around her neck, letting Emma hold him tight after the shock wore off.

Killian smiled at the scene, finally relaxing too.

It was only after they broke apart, that the lad demanded answers. Answers which Emma then calmly gave. She told him about her childhood, about his father. She told him about David and Mary Margaret and the time she spent in prison. All bits and pieces, not enough to disclose all of the worst things in her past, but definitely enough for a child to understand why his mother decided to give them up.

He listened attentively, never interrupting her, as if he understood how hard it must have been for her to talk about all of that. Sometimes Killian would find himself at loss of words for how perceptive Henry could be for such a young lad. And this was definitely the case. He truly did seem to understand both the said and unsaid.

However, he was dying to ask something, Killian could see that in the shining of his eyes. So much like his mother.

It was only after Emma finished talking though, that he spoke, leaving a speechless Emma and Killian behind. “So, since you are my mother, would that make Killian my step-father? Because that would be so cool!”

At that, both Emma and Killian’s eyes widened and as they could read each other’s minds they spoke as one. “What?”

All the seriousness of the moment gone, their home was filled with the sound of Henry’s laugh.

It took a few weeks, but she finally started to be free to go out without being followed by journalists and paparazzi, all wanting to hear what she had to say on the matter sprung by that Mr Gold’s magazine. Social media, instead, was still a mined camp for her, that she now tried with all her might to avoid.

It wasn’t easy, though. There were still times where she couldn’t not see what was being said about her, where people’s comments and assumptions drove her so mad that yes, she wanted to break her no comment policy and explain them at length exactly what were her opinions on the words that had been pointed at her. No matter how she was feeling, though, Killian was always there. He was a reassuring and calming constant in her life, the only one she could reach out to during the day, without worrying about the hour nor the moment.

As if on cue, just as things started to get better, shit began truly going down.

Another article was published: “An Enchanted Farce” GOLD’s cover shouted in big, bright red letters just above a blurry but not questionable picture of them kissing. Not just kissing, though. Were it so it wouldn’t have been such a big deal, but her back was up against the wall of a dimly lit corridor of the Enchanted’s studios with Killian’s body pressed against hers still wearing his characteristic “coach clothes”.

It was a scandal.

People started shouting at favoritism, of course, and many things were said, especially on the internet. Killian took the least of the lash, his doting fans swearing he’d never do anything like that and pitying him for being played by “the Swan bitch”. She was called many names - slut definitely the most recurring one - and blamed for “using Killian just to assure herself a place in the final”. Her talent and fairly new and moderate fame, once again questioned.

It was overwhelming, for the both of them, but to Emma, who had just managed to move on after the previous article lash out, it was the last straw. And like no time had passed at all, she found herself back curled up on the sofa, reading all the trashy magazines she could get her hands on and spending far too much time scrolling through her Twitter notifications once again.

Consciously, she knew it wasn’t her fault at all, but she couldn’t help blaming herself for what had happened. She didn’t regret kissing Killian that night, she didn’t really regret anything regarding her relationship with Killian. Her mind was swimming in “what if’s”, and Killian was… She didn’t know how to explain it but he made her happy, in a way she had never been. But if something life had taught her was that happiness wasn’t in the cards for Emma Swan, and all this mess proved it.

She had ruined their lives, she had ruined it all. She knew how risky it would have been to act on their feelings while the show was still on, she feared what could have happened if someone would find out. She should have known better that night. She shouldn’t have let him kiss her in that corridor, but she didn’t think that night and this was the result. Her reputation ruined, possibly forever, and his career too. He should be furious. Music was his life, the one thing that helped and accompanied him through all the things, both shitty and good, life threw at him. He had worked so hard to follow his dream and now thanks to her, it could be the end of it. Why wasn’t he furious?  

“You should stop reading that crap, Emma.”

Emma looked up at him with bloodshot eyes, Killian’s voice putting a halt to the whirlwind of thoughts in her head. “Why?”

“Because this,” he reached forward, taking the magazine resting on her lap and flipping its pages quickly as if to prove his point. As Emma stood up to take the magazine off his fingers, he continued, “This is hurting both you and us. It’s putting thoughts in your head that aren’t even remotely true. I’m not gonna say it’s gonna be easy, I’m not gonna say it’ll go away tomorrow, but eventually this will be behind us, all buried and forgotten. That can’t happen though until you stop blaming yourself and you start truly trusting Regina to deal with this mess.”

Killian let her take the magazine from his hands and Emma dropped it unceremoniously on the couch. “And how wouldn’t it be my fault, huh?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest and looking straight in his eyes. For a moment she thought she must have looked crazy, bloodshot eyes, tear stained cheeks and all, but she didn’t care. “Enlighten me.”

“Well, for starters as far as I recall there were two of us that night at the studios. You couldn’t have known there was somebody behind the corner taking pics just as much as I couldn’t have.”

“You’re right,” she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “But I should have thought something like that would have happened. After all, since when do good things stick to Emma Swan?”

At that Killian arched an eyebrow in confusion, his expression equal parts frustrated and dazed. “That's not…”

“You know what? You should have known it was too risky, too!”

“What? Emma you can’t be serious,” he almost shouted, the higher tone of his voice crashing with his words that very much sounded like a plea.

“I should have stopped you from kissing me that night because this is exactly what I was worried about back then,” she said, her voice rising little by little at every word.

Killian’s expression darkened. “Are you saying you regret that kiss? Our real first kiss? Do you also regret what you said me back then about your feelings for me? Or has it all been a lie since then?”

Emma’s eyes widened at his questions. “Yes...I mean, no!” she exclaimed before passing a hand over her face, trying with all her might not to let her voice quiver, or even worse break down in tears. “Don’t you see I ruined everything? Your career is at stake because of me. You got too close and now you are dealing with its repercussions.”

“I don’t bloody care about my career!” Killian positively growled. “If it meant being able to be with you, I’d give everything up and be a fucking music teacher, or do something else. But look at you: what would you do for me? You are throwing everything that there was between us out of the window just because that fucker of your ex and that bloody crocodile of Gold are making things less than easy. This is exactly why you’ve never been and would never be happy. You run when it gets too hard without even realizing what you already have. Now I’m going to ask you again and I want you to look at me when you answer: did you ever love me?”

He was right, she knew that, just as part of her knew she wasn’t being fair and reasonable. She was too upset though, too scared. In that moment, all she could think of was that he’d be better off without her, and it fucking hurt. She was hurting them both, she realised as tears welled up in her eyes.

She didn’t know where she found the strength, but eventually Emma willed her eyes to meet his as she pronounced those final three little words, that seemed to weigh like a ton of bricks on her tongue. “Yes, I did.”

Her mind didn’t register the hurt in his eyes. Or she didn’t let it, she wasn’t sure. All Emma did, instead, was grabbing her purse and walk away, slamming the door behind her.

As she drove off the walkway, she didn’t even feel the tears streaming down her face.