#idk I read your reply and it like... tugged at my whole being and I was like this deserves a reply bc it's... beautiful? idk

[theetherealbloom]

Whole Package, Babe, I Like The Way You Fit

Summary: Holiday beach trip with Pedro and friends.

Or, that one new Pedro shirtless pic…

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Nudity, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Beach Trip, Light Blood, Scratch, Ocean, Swimming, Swimwear, Shirtless Pedro, Light SMUT, Spicy, Sweet, Implied SMUT, Banter, Idk Spanish so the terms might be wrong but I'm trying my best

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: The mf decided to give us shirtless Pedro and suddenly I have the will to live again LMAO. Weirdly enough, I am also at the beach while writing this so it’s kinda a funny coincidence… Imagine if we were at the same beach, that would be so funny (He can never know my existence I might die.)

No one ask me how I knew what hotel they were staying at. I scare myself too dw.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Juno by Sabrina Carpenter

| Main Masterlist |

HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — DAY

The warm tropical breeze carried the salty tang of the ocean as you stepped onto the soft, powdery sand of the secluded beach Pedro’s friends had chosen for the Christmas getaway. The sun kissed your skin, palm trees swayed lazily overhead, and the gentle rhythm of waves provided the perfect soundtrack for a holiday escape.  

The group—Lauren Alexander, Brandan Campbell, Omar Apollo, and Pedro’s ever-charismatic agent, Franklin Latt—had already claimed a prime spot near the water. Lounge chairs were lined up under brightly colored umbrellas, a massive cooler sat brimming with ice and drinks, and Omar was enthusiastically attempting to set up a speaker while humming the latest tune stuck in his head.  

Pedro lagged a few steps behind you, carrying your beach bag and his, though his attention wasn’t on the task. It was on you.  

When you shrugged off your airy cover-up, revealing a stunning red bikini that hugged your curves just right, Pedro froze mid-step. His sunglasses couldn’t hide the way his jaw tightened or how his eyes darkened as they roamed over you.  

“Everything okay there?” you teased, tilting your head as you caught him staring.  

Pedro blinked, visibly gathering himself. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.” He cleared his throat, but his gaze didn’t waver. “More than fine.”  

You smirked, adjusting the straps of your bikini for good measure. “You’re staring.”  

“Can you blame me?” he shot back, taking a step closer. His voice dipped, low and husky. “You look... breathtaking.”  

A flush crept up your neck, but you refused to let him win so easily. “Not too bad yourself,” you quipped, lightly poking his chest. His white linen shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tantalizing hint of his tan skin and the gold chain that rested against his collarbone.  

Pedro chuckled, the sound warm and intimate. “If I’d known you’d be wearing this, I’d have hired a bodyguard to keep everyone else from looking.”  

“Oh, please,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the grin tugging at your lips. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”  

He leaned in, his hand brushing against your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. “Stop being so cute, or I might never let you leave my sight,” he murmured.  

“Is that a promise or a threat?” you teased, your voice playful but your heart racing.  

“Both,” he said, his grin widening as he pulled back to admire you once more.  

From nearby, Omar let out a loud whistle. “Pedro, are you gonna stand there all day, or are you gonna help us with this speaker? Some of us want to vibe to music!”  

Pedro groaned, turning reluctantly toward the group but throwing an arm around your shoulders as he led you over. “Fine, but only because she’s coming with me,” he called out, earning a round of laughter.  

As you settled into the setup, the sun beamed overhead, and the carefree energy of the group was infectious. Pedro stayed close, his arm brushing yours as you helped Lauren unpack snacks, and his eyes never strayed far from you.  

At one point, Franklin handed you a coconut with a straw and a cheeky smile. “Best way to stay hydrated,” he said, winking.  

“Cheers,” Pedro said, clinking his coconut against yours. He took a sip before leaning closer, his breath warm against your ear. “But if you spill even a drop, I’m licking it off you.”  

Your cheeks burned as you nearly choked on your drink. “Pedro!” you hissed, swatting at him.  

He grinned, unapologetic. “What? I’m just being practical.”  

The day unfolded in easy laughter and warmth, with the sun high overhead and the turquoise ocean sparkling like a field of diamonds. Pedro carried you on his back through the shallows, his hands gripping your thighs as you pretended to be his commanding officer.  

“Faster, soldier!” you commanded, leaning forward and tugging gently at his ears as if steering him.  

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” he called back, mock-serious but laughing as he jogged through the water, sending small waves splashing around you both. “Anything else, ma’am? Should I do some push-ups in the sand too?”  

You grinned wickedly. “Push-ups? I’d like to see you try—with me on your back.”  

Pedro stopped abruptly, twisting his head to glance at you with a raised brow. “Oh, you think I can’t?”  

“I know you can’t,” you teased, leaning down to press your cheek against his.  

He smirked, suddenly spinning in place. “You’re asking for it now.”  

Before you could protest, he dropped into the water with a dramatic splash, sending you tumbling off his back and into the cool embrace of the ocean.  

“Pedro!” you shrieked, surfacing with a gasp and pushing your wet hair out of your face.  

He was already laughing, standing a few feet away with his hands on his hips, his soaked hair plastered to his forehead. “That’s what you get for doubting my strength!”  

“Oh, you’re so dead!” you shouted, lunging toward him.  

Pedro yelped playfully, backpedaling but not fast enough. You caught his arm, laughing as you pulled him down into the water with you. The two of you wrestled like kids, splashing and laughing so hard your stomach hurt.  

“Truce! Truce!” he called out, holding up his hands in surrender as you pelted him with another wave of water.  

“Do you admit defeat?” you demanded, a triumphant grin on your face.  

“Never!” he declared, darting forward to grab your waist. Before you could react, he lifted you effortlessly, spinning you around in the water.  

“Pedro!” you shrieked, laughing and trying to wriggle free.  

“You wanted a soldier,” he said, his voice full of mischief, “and now you’ve got one!”  

You finally stopped struggling, letting your arms drape around his shoulders as he held you close. The laughter faded into something softer, the two of you catching your breath as you stood chest-deep in the water.  

His hands slid down to your hips, steadying you as he gazed at you with a look that made your heart flutter. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.  

The way he said it, like it was a simple truth he’d always believed, made your cheeks warm despite the cool water. “You’re just saying that because I’m soaked and ridiculous-looking,” you replied, biting back a smile.  

“No,” he said, leaning in so his forehead pressed against yours. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”  

Your breath hitched as his lips brushed against yours, soft and hesitant at first, like he was savoring the moment. The kiss deepened quickly, his arms pulling you closer until there was no space between you.  

When you pulled back for air, Pedro’s eyes were dark, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. “You’ve got this effect on me,” he admitted, his voice husky.  

“Oh yeah?” you teased, though your voice wavered with the same breathless energy.  

“Yeah,” he said, leaning in to kiss you again, his hands sliding up your back. “And I never want it to go away.”  

For a while, the rest of the world melted away. You stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the ocean rocking gently around you. He kissed you like he was memorizing every detail, every taste, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips, feeling completely and utterly adored.  

At one point, he pulled back just enough to whisper, “If this is what it feels like to surrender, I’m never fighting again.”  

You laughed, threading your fingers through his damp hair. “I think I like you defeated.”  

“And I think I like you here, in my arms,” he replied softly, his lips brushing against your temple.  

The sound of your friends laughing and splashing in the distance barely registered. For now, it was just you and Pedro, lost in a world of sunlit kisses and salty skin, the ocean your only witness.  

The group gathered in a loose circle, each person holding a large green coconut decorated with colorful straws and tiny paper umbrellas. The warm, golden light of the late afternoon sun bathed everything in a soft glow, making the moment feel like a scene out of a postcard. Omar crouched to capture the perfect angle with his camera while Lauren struck a dramatic pose, tilting her head back and raising her coconut like it was a chalice of the gods.  

“Lauren, you’re doing the most,” Franklin said, shaking his head but smiling as he adjusted his sunglasses.  

“Darling, I am the most,” Lauren shot back with a wink, drawing laughs from everyone.  

Pedro, standing just behind you, pulled you snugly against his side, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. “C’mon, let’s show them how it’s done,” he murmured in your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.  

Franklin, standing in front with his phone, held it up. “Okay, lovebirds, your turn. Smile for the camera!”  

You turned your face toward Pedro’s at the exact same moment he turned toward you, and the laughter bubbled up before either of you could stop it. Your foreheads bumped lightly, and you both dissolved into giggles, the kind of uncontainable joy that made your chest feel light.  

“Oh, my god,” Lauren groaned theatrically, pointing at the two of you. “Are they even real? Look at them, they’re in their own damn rom-com!”  

“Y’all are embarrassing,” Omar chimed in, snapping pictures anyway. “But keep doing whatever that is because it’s disgustingly cute.”  

Pedro’s grin widened as he tilted his head toward you, his nose brushing against yours. “You’re ridiculous,” you said through your laughter, feeling your cheeks warm under the attention.  

“And you’re perfect,” Pedro replied, his voice low but playful, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smirk.  

Franklin groaned loudly, still holding up his phone. “For the love of all things holy, just kiss her already! We’re trying to make memories here, not watch a slow-burn romance unfold in real-time!”  

Pedro raised an eyebrow, glancing at the group before looking back at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “What do you think, Hermosa? Should we give them what they want?”  

You laughed, pretending to ponder. “Hmm… maybe. But only if you make it a good one.”  

“Challenge accepted,” Pedro whispered, and then his lips were on yours, soft but sure. The kiss was sweet and unhurried, the kind that made everything around you fade into the background.  

“Oh my god, they’re actually doing it,” Lauren shrieked, clapping her hands together like a giddy child.  

“Finally!” Omar exclaimed, snapping several pictures in rapid succession. “This is going on the Christmas card.”  

“Make sure you get my good side!” Pedro joked, pulling back just enough to shoot Omar a wink, his arm still secure around your waist.  

“I don’t think you have a bad side,” you teased, your eyes meeting Pedro’s.  

“Ugh, stop!” Franklin groaned, clutching his chest dramatically. “This is too much. I need a drink—and not out of a coconut. I’m going straight for the tequila.”  

Everyone burst into laughter, the lighthearted teasing filling the air as the moment was immortalized with photos, laughter, and a shared sense of joy. Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your temple as the group continued to banter.  

“They’re just jealous,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with affection.  

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your heart swelling at the warmth in his eyes. “Maybe. But I’m not sharing, so they can stay jealous.”  

Pedro chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because neither am I.”  

The heat of the day softened into a golden, languid warmth as the two of you found refuge under the shade of a broad umbrella. The beach stretched endlessly before you, the waves lazily licking at the shore. Pedro reclined in a beach chair, his book propped open on his lap. The faint breeze tousled his hair, a few stray strands falling over his forehead, and the way he absentmindedly pushed them back sent a flutter through your chest.  

You leaned against his side, your legs stretched out on the chair beside him, the perfect picture of ease. With one hand, you held your favorite romance novel, its dog-eared pages evidence of how many times you'd read it. With the other, you traced patterns along the inked lines of his tattoos. Your fingertips moved slowly, savoring the ridges of muscle and warmth beneath his skin, as if committing every part of him to memory.  

Pedro’s free hand slid into yours, threading your fingers together with a natural intimacy that still made your heart skip a beat. He didn’t look up from his book as he murmured, “Everything feels right when you’re with me.”  

The sincerity in his tone made you pause, your eyes lifting from the words on the page. A small smile tugged at your lips as you squeezed his hand gently. “I know the feeling,” you replied, your voice soft.  

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the kind that only comes when you’re entirely at ease with someone. The distant laughter of your friends mingled with the rhythmic crashing of waves, creating a serene soundtrack to your stolen moment.  

Pedro finally set his book down, slipping a receipt in as a placeholder. His gaze shifted to you, lingering in a way that made your cheeks heat even before he said a word.  

“You know,” he began, his voice warm and teasing, “you’re kind of amazing.”  

You tilted your head, meeting his eyes with a playful arch of your brow. “Kind of?”  

Pedro chuckled, his smile widening. “Okay, more than kind of. Very. Incredibly. Like, the kind of amazing that makes me wonder what I ever did to deserve you.”  

You closed your book, setting it on the small table between your chairs. Turning slightly, you rested your chin on his shoulder, your fingers still entwined with his. “Pedro, where’s all this coming from?”  

He shrugged, but his eyes were soft, almost vulnerable. “Just thinking. Watching you. It hits me sometimes how lucky I am. How lucky I feel to be the one sitting here with you.”  

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “You’re the one everyone loves. The kind, talented, ridiculously handsome Pedro Pascal. If anything, I’m the lucky one.”  

Pedro leaned closer, his free hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re wrong about that. Don’t get me wrong—I like myself just fine,” he teased, earning a laugh from you. “But you? You’re everything. Smart, funny, compassionate. And don’t even get me started on how beautiful you are.”  

Your cheeks flushed, and you tried to deflect with a teasing grin. “Oh, so it’s just my looks, huh?”  

“Not even close,” Pedro said, his voice dropping to a softer, deeper tone. “It’s the way you talk about your favorite books like they’re old friends. The way you laugh with your whole body. The way you care about everyone—how you make every room brighter just by being in it.”  

“Pedro…” you whispered, your throat tight with emotion.  

“And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve got everyone wrapped around your finger,” he added, his grin returning. “Omar can’t go ten minutes without asking if you need something, and Lauren keeps calling you her ‘new favorite person.’”  

You laughed, brushing at your cheeks as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you. “Stop. You’re going to make me cry.”  

Pedro’s expression softened further, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if to catch a tear before it could fall. “If I do, they’d better be happy tears. Because, cariño, I love you more than I ever thought was possible.”  

Your breath hitched, and you leaned into his touch. “I love you too. So much.”  

For a moment, the world around you faded into the background. Pedro leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and tender, like a promise. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.  

“Promise me you’ll always stay this close,” he said, his tone carrying a weight you couldn’t quite place.  

You smiled, your hands cupping his face. “I promise. Always.”  

Pedro’s heart swelled at your words, and though he didn’t say it out loud, a plan began to take shape in his mind. He pictured the perfect ring, the perfect moment, the perfect way to ask you to spend forever with him.  

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said softly, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.  

You didn’t need to say anything else. The way you melted into his arms, the way your fingers found his once again, said everything. For now, this was enough. But in his heart, Pedro knew it wouldn’t be long before he made good on the promise his soul had already made: to love you, always.

The late afternoon sun bathed the beach in golden light as you wandered back into the water. The waves lapped gently at your legs, warm and inviting. Lost in the tranquil rhythm of the ocean, you didn’t notice the jagged rock just below the surface until it grazed your shin. You winced, feeling the sharp sting before brushing it off as nothing.  

You emerged from the water, the salty breeze brushing against your skin. Pedro, lounging nearby with a half-finished coconut drink, immediately sat up. His eyes darted to your leg, catching the small but noticeable trail of red trickling down your shin.  

“Are you bleeding?” His voice carried that signature mix of concern and urgency that only Pedro could make sound so endearing.  

You glanced down, surprised to see the cut. “Oh.”  

“Oh?” Pedro’s tone was incredulous as he practically leapt from his chair, already reaching for the towel draped over the back. “That’s all you have to say? Oh?”  

“It’s just a scratch, Pedro,” you said with a small laugh, trying to wave him off. “I’m fine.”  

But Pedro was having none of it. He crouched in front of you, his warm hands circling your calf to keep your leg still. The towel dabbed gently at the cut, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re not allowed to get hurt on my watch,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.  

“It’s barely a paper cut,” you teased, watching the way his features softened even as he fussed over you.  

“Doesn’t matter.” His voice was firm, though his touch remained impossibly gentle. “What if it gets infected? What if—”  

You laughed, cutting him off. “Pedro, it’s not like I got bitten by a shark.”  

He looked up at you, his expression a mixture of exasperation and adoration. “Don’t joke about that. I’d fight a shark for you, you know.”  

The sincerity in his voice, paired with the completely ridiculous statement, made you laugh even harder. “Oh, I’m sure you would,” you said, brushing your fingers through his damp curls.  

“Don’t test me,” he quipped, finally satisfied that the cut was clean. He reached for the small first-aid kit Franklin had insisted on bringing, pulling out a bandage. “Hold still.”  

“Seriously?” you asked, your amusement growing.  

“Seriously,” he said, shooting you a look that dared you to challenge him. He peeled the adhesive back and smoothed the bandage over your shin with a precision that would make a surgeon proud.  

“There,” he said, sitting back on his heels and surveying his work with a nod. “Good as new.”  

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but smiling all the same.  

“And you’re reckless,” he shot back, standing up and pulling you into his arms. “I leave you alone for five minutes, and this is what happens.”  

You leaned into him, your hands resting against his chest. “I think you’re overreacting. It’s a scratch, Pedro.”  

“It’s your scratch,” he said, his voice softening. His fingers tilted your chin up, his eyes searching yours. “That means it matters to me.”  

Your heart did a little flip at his words, and you couldn’t resist teasing him just a little. “You know how you’re like—”  

“Absolutely embarrassingly in love with you?” he cut in, a smirk tugging at his lips.  

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “Yeah, that.”  

Pedro leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “I am, you know,” he said, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. “Completely, hopelessly, embarrassingly in love with you.”  

Your teasing melted away as you cupped his face, brushing your thumbs over the scruff of his jaw. “Good. Because I’m absolutely embarrassingly in love with you too.”  

His smile grew, and he kissed you softly, as if sealing a promise. When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now, no more rock fights, okay? You’ve got to take it easy on me.”  

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’ll do my best. But no promises if a shark shows up.”  

Pedro groaned dramatically, lifting you off your feet as he carried you back to the lounge chairs. “If a shark shows up, I’ll negotiate with it. Tell it I’m already your protector and it can’t have the job.”  

You giggled, nuzzling against his neck. “Sounds like a good plan. My hero.”  

He set you down with exaggerated care, pressing one last kiss to your forehead. “Always,” he said simply.  

And as the two of you sat there, the ocean stretching endlessly before you, you felt it again—that perfect, undeniable feeling of being home.

HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — SUNSET

The sunset painted the sky in hues of orange, pink, and deep indigo, casting a magical glow over the beach. The group sat in a loose circle, their laughter and conversation mingling with the soft crash of the waves and the mellow strumming of a guitar Omar had picked up. The mood was serene, the kind of calm that felt like it could stretch forever.  

Pedro sat behind you on the sand, his strong arms wrapped securely around your waist as you leaned back against his chest. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and you could feel the soft puff of his breath against your neck. His warmth enveloped you, a perfect contrast to the cool ocean breeze.  

“You cold, cariño?” Pedro murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.  

“Not even a little,” you replied, turning your head to catch his eyes. They sparkled, reflecting the fiery colors of the horizon.  

His fingers traced slow, idle circles against your stomach. “Good. Can’t have you shivering out here, not when I’ve got two perfectly good arms to keep you warm.”  

“You’re too good at this,” you teased, smiling as you reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead.  

“Good at what?” he asked, his tone playful, though his eyes held that familiar, unspoken intensity that always made your heart skip a beat.  

“At making me feel like the luckiest person in the world,” you said softly.  

Pedro’s lips curved into a slow smile, and he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your temple. “That’s funny,” he murmured, “because that’s exactly how I feel about you.”  

The golden light of the sunset cast a halo around his face, and you couldn’t help but reach up, cupping his cheek as you brought his forehead to yours. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say things like that.”  

“You’d better not,” he said, his voice warm and teasing, though there was an edge of vulnerability beneath it. “Because I’m not planning on stopping.”  

“I’ll love you forever,” Pedro whispered, his lips ghosting against your ear as the first stars began to peek through the darkening sky.  

You tilted your head back to meet his gaze fully, the world around you falling away. “You promise?”  

He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek. “I promise,” he said, his voice steady and filled with so much certainty it made your chest ache in the best way.  

His lips found yours in a kiss that was soft and lingering, filled with a sweetness that felt endless. When he pulled back, he pressed another kiss to your forehead before tucking you closer to him.  

The night deepened, and the group eventually wandered back to the cozy beachfront hotel. Pedro’s hand never left yours as you made your way to your shared room, the two of you moving in quiet, comfortable synchronicity.  

Inside, the room was dimly lit, the glow of a single bedside lamp casting a warm, intimate light over the space. The sound of the waves was faint through the open balcony doors, and the scent of salt air mingled with the faintly floral perfume you’d spritzed on earlier.  

Pedro closed the door behind you and turned to face you, his expression soft but unmistakably intent. “You know,” he said, stepping closer, “I meant it. Every word I said out there.”  

You tilted your head, giving him a playful look. “Even the part where you said you’d never get tired of me stealing the covers?”  

“Especially that part,” he said with a grin, his hands finding your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Though I might need extra cuddles as compensation.”  

You laughed softly, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. “I think that can be arranged.”  

His grin faded, replaced by something deeper, more serious, as his eyes searched yours. “I love you,” he said, the words simple but carrying the weight of everything he felt. “So much that sometimes it scares me.”  

You leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I love you too. And you don’t have to be scared, Pedro. You’ve got me.”  

His lips claimed yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, his hands splaying across your back as he pulled you closer. The kiss deepened, his lips parting to taste yours, and you felt the warmth of him everywhere.  

He backed you gently toward the bed, his movements unhurried, as if savoring every moment. The backs of your knees hit the edge, and you sank onto the soft mattress, pulling him down with you.  

Pedro’s hands roamed, his touch reverent as his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, then down the column of your neck. “Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky.  

“You’re perfect,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly to bring his lips back to yours.  

His breath hitched at your words, and you felt the weight of his love in every kiss, every touch. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in each other, lost in a moment that felt infinite.  

Pedro pulled back briefly, his forehead resting against yours as his fingers laced with yours. “You’re my everything,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.  

“And you’re mine,” you replied, your heart full to bursting.  

And as the night stretched on, the love between you grew even deeper, wrapping around you both like a warm, unbreakable cocoon.

[saturnsag3]

Helping Hand - will smith x macklin celebrini

summary: quick psa before you continue: if you don’t like to see/read depictions of mpreg then scroll pls! i’m dipping my toe into writing this so.. idk don’t come for me

wc: 1,545

Macklin was quiet. Which, for a 33-week pregnant man, meant something was wrong.

Will noticed it the moment he walked in the door.

No enthusiastic “you’re home!” greeting from the couch. No pouty guilt-trip for being “gone a decade” (he’d been gone an hour). No dramatic cling to his arm or baby bump shoved into his chest like a cat rubbing up for affection.

Just… silence.

“Mack?” Will called, setting his keys down on the table. “Babe?”

A muffled voice came from the bathroom. “In here.”

Will padded down the hall and gently pushed the door open, expecting to find Macklin hunched over the sink brushing his teeth or sprawled on the bath mat texting him for snacks.

He did not expect to find Mack standing in front of the mirror, T-shirt pushed up to his chest, one hand on the curve of his stomach, eyes locked on his own reflection.

He looked… tired.

And kind of sad.

Will stepped inside. “Hey. What’s going on?”

Macklin blinked, then shrugged like it was nothing. “Nothing. Just… checking myself out, I guess.”

Will approached carefully, reaching out to rest a warm hand on the side of Mack’s belly. “Everything okay?”

Mack gave a dry laugh. “I look like a balloon.”

Will frowned. “You look like my husband.”

“Who’s shaped like a beach ball,” Mack muttered, trying to smooth his shirt back down. Will caught his hand.

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened, I’m just…” Mack hesitated, then sighed. “I saw some new ones today. Stretch marks. They weren’t there yesterday, I swear. And now they’re just… they’re everywhere.” He looked down. “My hips, my sides… even the tops of my thighs.”

Will’s expression softened. “Baby…”

“I know it’s normal,” Mack said quickly, like he wanted to beat Will to the punch. “I know that. It’s what happens when you’re growing a whole human inside you. Doesn’t mean I like it.”

Will gently turned Mack to face him, stepping closer until his chest brushed Mack’s shoulder. “Can I see?”

Mack hesitated. Then slowly tugged his shirt up again.

Will dropped to one knee.

The bathroom lights were warm and soft, casting golden shadows across Macklin’s pale skin. His bump was round and firm, the kind of full, high curve Will had taken to kissing like a prayer every night. And just above his hipbones, along his sides, Will could see them.

Little marks. Faint, pinkish lines. Like silver ripples in the water’s surface. Newer than the older ones—fresh, almost shy in how they curved around him.

Will reached out with careful fingers, brushing the edge of one with his thumb.

Mack twitched. “Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re ugly. And I already feel like a lumpy couch. I don’t need you confirming it.”

Will blinked up at him. “You think I’d ever say that?”

Mack chewed his lip.

Will rose slowly, bringing both hands to Macklin’s waist, thumbs tracing gently over his sides. “You are so beautiful it physically hurts.”

Mack huffed. “You’re such a liar.”

“I’m not,” Will said softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “You’re carrying our baby. You’ve built a whole person inside you. That’s incredible.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to look like a wrinkled cantaloupe,” Mack muttered.

Will smiled and nudged their foreheads together. “These marks? They’re love notes. Evidence. Proof that your body is doing something superhuman.”

“I didn’t sign up for the stretch mark package.”

“You didn’t sign up for sciatica either, but here we are.”

Mack let out a short, wet laugh.

Will lowered his voice. “Hey. Let me take care of you.”

Macklin blinked, then nodded.

Will kissed his temple, then guided him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, helping him ease down onto the edge of the bed.

“I want you to lie back for a sec, okay?” Will said, kneeling between his legs.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to make you feel loved,” Will replied simply, tugging Mack’s shirt up again. “Starting here.”

His fingers ghosted over the soft stretch of Mack’s skin. Macklin flinched again, but Will didn’t stop—he just moved slower, more reverently, like every inch of his husband's body deserved to be worshiped.

“Will…”

“Shh. Let me.”

He leaned in and kissed the skin just above Mack’s belly button. Then lower. Then to the side, where the newest lines lived.

“You’re glowing,” Will murmured.

“I’m sweaty.”

“You’re radiant,” Will corrected, trailing his lips down the length of a mark like it was a treasured piece of art. “Every single line. Every shift in your skin. It’s all part of this story you’re writing with your body. And I love it.”

Macklin’s eyes fluttered shut.

Will kissed his hipbone and looked up. “Still ugly?”

Mack didn’t answer—he just reached for Will’s hand and squeezed.

—

That night, Macklin was curled on his side in bed, a pillow between his legs and one shoved behind his back. He was clearly uncomfortable, shifting and huffing every few minutes.

Will, shirtless and sleepy, reached over. “You hurting again?”

Mack nodded, gritting his teeth. “Lower back’s killing me. I swear this baby’s sitting on my spine.”

Will sat up. “Okay. Come here.”

Mack looked up. “Where?”

“Stand up. By the edge.”

Macklin obeyed slowly, groaning as he rolled out of bed and got to his feet. Will stood behind him, his chest to Mack’s back, hands resting low on Mack’s belly.

Will slipped his hands under Mack’s bump, gently lifting it up. The relief was instant.

“Ohhh my God,” Mack groaned, leaning back into him. “You’re a wizard. That’s—oh my God, Will. Do notstop.”

Will chuckled, adjusting his hold. “You’ve been carrying all this weight by yourself for hours. Let me help.”

“You’re literally taking like 80 pounds off me. I feel like I can breathe again.”

Will pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “I got you.”

Mack leaned his head back against Will’s shoulder. “Seriously, how do doulas not charge, like, a million dollars an hour for this?”

“Because they’re not lucky enough to be married to you.”

Macklin laughed breathily, arms looping over Will’s. “You should do this more often.”

“I do do this often.”

“Okay, but now you’re getting better at it. Like, what is this—an angle thing? A grip strength thing? Has hockey made you better at husbanding?”

Will smirked against his hair. “Maybe.”

Mack twisted his head around. “Can we stay like this forever?”

Will kissed his cheek. “I’ll hold you as long as you need.”

“I need it a lot.”

“I know,” Will said warmly. “And I love that you do.”

Macklin turned fully in his arms, bump pressing against Will’s middle, and leaned their foreheads together again.

“You really don’t mind?” he asked quietly. “The clinginess? The stretch marks? The whining? Me crying because we ran out of cherry popsicles yesterday?”

Will brushed a thumb across Macklin’s jaw. “I’m in love with every version of you. But this one? The one who’s creating our baby and still somehow managing to be the funniest, softest, most beautiful person I know? This one has me totally ruined.”

Mack grinned and bit his lip. “You’re so whipped.”

“I am,” Will agreed. “Completely.”

They stood there for a while—swaying slightly, wrapped up in each other, with nothing but the sound of the city humming outside their window and the soft rhythmic thump of their baby kicking between them.

Will held the bump. Macklin held Will. And there was no fear or insecurity strong enough to break the way they fit together.

Only love.

And a really excellent bump-lift.

sages thoughts⋆˙⟡: tell me if we hate it guys 🥲

[onlyseokmins]

$$60 billion (part 2) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), trigun!au, action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, guns, injuries, medical tingz, destruction, mentions of knives, violence, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, tame-ish alien/monster/plant sex (????? listen it'll make sense - think of him like howl's bird form on steroids idk), mating, possessiveness!, marking, bruising, jealousy, smelling/scent kink???, wet messy sex uwu, wing kink (??? listen i was gonna explore it more but decided not to ok??), BITING (bc it's me), mechanical/robotic fingering???, gagging, bulge kink, oral sex (explicit male receiving and brief fem. receiving), seokmin's dick is like SLOPPY TOPPY LORGE w/ a mind of it's own, lowkey forgot how to write smut sorry </3 WC: 13.2k of 32.7k | Part 1 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I hope everyone enjoys the conclusion and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️PS, I know nothing abt chess lmaooooo but let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!! This part might get a little confusing because of a flashback!! (starts right after the italicized paragraph and ends with "...in this moment...")

The silence is palpable.

"Does it hurt more to get stabbed in the back or shot?"

Only the continual rustling sound answers your philosophical question. Not that you actually care because you weren't really expecting a reply.

So, you keep talking.

"I think it would be more painful to get stabbed… but it would take longer to heal from a gunshot wound."

There's a brief pause in the motions behind you. But the quiet resumes, though the practiced skill of a needle threading through your skin quickens. While the local anesthetics Tonim's doctor supplied is doing its job for the most part, you swear you can still feel the tug of flesh being sewn together.

Or maybe you're just thinking too hard.

"Look. I'm… I'm sorry."

If tension could personify itself right at this moment, it would do so with ease, given how heavy its presence currently sits in the room. A low voice finally speaks up, gravely and roughened after such a long period of silence and the hairs on your neck rise.

"Are you really?"

"… Yes."

A heavy sigh — one burdened with all the worries of the world — follows. You wince and then tremble, wishing you could turn around. It's easy to guess what he's thinking but god, do you wish you could see his face to confirm. The fear of the unknown paralyzes you.

"I seriously am."

"Doubtful. I know you only asked me that question to subtly say you'll be okay and heal just fine but it's not that simple."

The callousness in his tone and the sharp way he says your first name makes you want to shrink down, shrivel up, and quite frankly die on the spot. Gritting your teeth, you succumb to the apparent silent treatment until the snip of scissors signifies your surgeon has finished treating you.

You think twice about your options upon hearing the click-clack of medical supplies being put back into the first aid kit. Then you think, "fuck it!", and use your good arm to keep the fabric of a spare t-shirt pressed against your chest and shift so you can face the man who just rather aggressively threw a handful of unused alcohol prep pads back into their designated slot.

"I'm super duper, utterly, and truly apologetic, Seok."

The gunslinger heaves another grand exhale of irritation. He doesn't even so much as glance at you, frowning sourly down at the roll of gauze in his hands instead. The temptation to reach out and touch him — soothe him — is strong but you decide against that (for various reasons) and resort to huffily pouting instead. Amazingly it seems to work, because he notices right away and folds way too easily without much of your sway, finally facing you with a reluctant but serious expression.

"Then what did you learn?"

Your gaze lowers, eyelashes fluttering while you drown in your feelings of shame and wrack your brain. The urge to toy with the silver chain around your neck is strong though you resist the tick and hesitantly answer instead.

"Um, that I need to fortify my mental block better?"

"Try again."

"Uh…"

"How about the way you're not supposed to play the hero?"

The tin of the trauma kit rattles as Seokmin slams his left hand down on the bed, leaning menacingly toward you. Though narrowed, his eyes seem to glow. You can't help but whimper at the intense ire dancing in those irises paired with his sharp tone. Like the desert's suns, it simmers and radiates off of him with rays of heat that you can easily feel given how close he is.

"I'm, I'm sorry!"

"No, you're not," he states sharply though the rigidness in his body relaxes after your squeak of another apology. "You almost died!"

You'd defiantly cross your arms if you could. "Between the two of us, you were most at risk of dying."

"Was not! And we both know my chances of injury are much, much lower than yours."

"You can't lecture me and flex your stupid powers this time! It's different 'cause Jihooon was fuckin' with my mind."

The harsh bitterness is more so directed at yourself and the damned Crimsonnail than Seokmin. But as usual, you vent all your frustrated emotions out on him, especially whenever he brings up the fragility of your mortality. You both stare stubbornly into each other's eyes, thinking back to what happened and what could've happened.

Lina's protected. The Tonim residents were all immobilized. Seungcheol, Seungkwan, and Mingyu are in good spirits. You are safe.

A burst of air rushes into Seokmin's lungs, relief filling him as he idly scans your figure for injuries. Casually reloading his revolver just in case, he beams as you approach. The mirrored expression of victory on your face accompanied by a hand reaching out causes his whole body to shudder in pleasure. There's nothing he'd like more than to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Instead, he settles for returning your enthusiastic fist bump. Nudging his shoulder against yours, Seokmin chirps out, "Good job, partner!"

"Partner?"

"Yeah, partners."

You shake your head like you can't believe him, amusement tilting up the corners of your lips. He wants to tell you everything, all of it. But his ears catch the faint click of a contraption behind him and he looks over his shoulder just in time to see Jihoon's crossbow assemble.

Joshua looks mightily displeased but makes no effort to put a stop to the Crimsonnail's actions. Seokmin can only thank his lucky stars that Soonyoung remains in a catatonic state. Dealing with a ginormous worm so soon after being in its stomach a couple days ago was not appealing in the slightest.

The fingers of his prosthesis splay out, cybernetic arm lowered and extended outwards in front of you as you turn around as well. He knows you hate unwarranted protection but you'll have to forgive his instincts this time. Nevertheless, he trusts you. And as Jihoon opens fire, Seokmin leaps into action, expecting you to do the same — only to do a double-take when you don't move despite a flurry of nails breaching the air.

Your eyes remain unfocused. Glazed over and cloudy, posture tense but still. He sneaks observatory looks your way from afar while firing Geranium. Round after round, breaking nail after nail to prevent any harm befalling you. A maniacal laughter rings out and Seokmin freezes, putting two and two together.

Then he snarls.

Jihoon must've sicced his killing intent — a nasty ability to project and create illusions of destruction in someone and break their will — on you. Cursing, he starts making his way closer to you, inwardly reaching out to you and begging that you'll break free of the blonde-haired man's clutch on your psyche.

You're obviously more than capable. He knows this. But your movements are sluggish, slowly releasing Sirocco from your grasp. The empty pistol lands on the sand with a muffled thud and Seokmin's pretty sure his heart mimics it. A look of terror and horror spreads across your facial features, surely subject to something awful within the confines of your own mind.

And while you're experiencing visions of things you fear coming true, he's stuck in the vivid reality where they do.

You spin around with a wild look in your eyes — full of rage and anguish. He stumbles back as you teeter one foot at a time toward him and in the distraction, a nail pierces right below your shoulder blade.

Someone wails behind him.

You scream.

Seokmin rushes forward. But he's tackled suddenly to the ground and ends up flat on his back. Completely winded and left with his vision smarting, blinking in confusion at the blurry double halos that definitely shouldn't be around the duo of suns in the sky.

Then your face comes into focus. And god, forget the suns — in all your glory and in all your fierceness, you shine brighter than them all combined — hallucinations be damned.

It takes a bit of wrangling around, given how you try to wrestle and pin the man down. The clunky gun you're waving around goes off several times, harmlessly lodging bullet holes into the sand cushioning around Seokmin's head.

"Stop it, you're gonna hurt yourself!"

Moving and lashing out like a wild animal before it's fully sedated, his words don't come through the hellish haze Jihoon's trapped you in. You pull the trigger with no regard for the injury to your shooting arm.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

He dutifully counts each round fired, multitasking between that and the effort it takes to contain your struggling movements. Once again, thanks to the overpowered strength of his prosthetic, the man's finally able to sit up with you secured in his arms to cease any further movement.

"Lovely, lovely mayfly," he murmurs. The stable cybernetic hand gently feels around the impaled shoulder while a trembling thumb rubs your abnormally chilled cheek. "C'mon and snap out of it, pretty."

Not a spot of recognition in your blank glare. His eyebrows furrow as cold metal presses in between them. Seungcheol is cursing, Mingyu and Seungkwan are shouting loudly. Jihoon gloats.

But none of that matters. Seokmin drowns all of it out by diving in the pooling depths of your empty irises. Searching, calling, begging. Biting his lip, he delivers a quick slap and pleads, "Come back to me, love."

And like a mist that rises after dawn, you return to him. Your stunned grip on the gun falters, the final bullet rattling in its chambers. The pained expression on your face slices open his own heart but its shredded form takes flight in utter relief.

You're back. You're going to be okay — he'll make sure of it. And even if you don't know it, you're his and he's yours.

"Y-you're dead," you choke out and all he can do is smile despite feeling like he's on the verge of crying. Elation, anger, guilt, hope, longing, worry, joy — all of it turns and tosses within him like a rustling flurry of winged creatures struggling to break free.

So, he smiles at you and grasps the barrel of the old pistol aimed at his forehead. "I know, mayfly."

Jihoon howls in fury. Joshua finally steps forward, striking a military pose with his hands behind his back. Composed as ever, his voice remains its deceptively sweet self compared to the harsh jerking movements he's subjected upon the gray-eyed man via telepathy.

"You've crossed the line, lost number thirteen."

"Don't call me that!"

It's no surprise that the pecking order in Dokyeom's henchmen sowed seeds of dissent. Though Joshua was simply a right-hand man, he remained the only unnumbered member, proving the lack of disposability DK saw in him versus the others.

"Know your place."

"Which has always been at the top! But because of you — !"

" — The top of those already at the bottom, perhaps. Respect your superiors and your orders, Crimsonnail. You were not to lay a hand upon Master Dokyeom's brother. Ever."

"I didn't!"

"Or a member of his little group." His indifferent gaze swept over Seokmin protectively cradling your body. "This voids our involvement and nullifies any further implementations of the game."

Joshua would thank his lucky stars that the humanoid typhoon is letting them leave scotch-free if he was a decent man. Unfortunately, he's not — already considering what punishment to enact upon Jihoon per his master's orders. The Crimsonnail feels a shiver down his spine, further enhanced by Joshua's frosty, disdainful look of disapproval as he telepathically drags Jihoon to the car.

Still, it's a good thing Seokmin's a pacifist by nature, that he's more preoccupied by your well being than anything else. Your brow begins to bead with sweat, the pain of your wound finally sinking in past the adrenaline rush wearing off. Black circles dance in your blurring vision, the gun falling from your grasp as you droop forward and rely on the unerring sureness of his support and the safety within in it.

Seokmin knows he needs to get you medical help right away, and it's the only thing he can focus on. There's no time for exchanging a blow with a blow nor the faintest idea of revenge.

Not yet. Not now. Maybe never if it means putting you in harm's way.

Was he really going to give up following the bloody trail to hold his brother accountable for the unspeakable crimes he's committed? Throw away the blank ticket Rem spoke about? All for one person?

The questions all swirl around in his head like a nebulous mass. And like a newborn star — one that's been long in the making — the answer is crystal clear and shining bright as you sit in front of him now looking devastatingly beautiful to him despite all that's happened. Most importantly, you're safe.

But all he can say in this moment aloud is, "I'm sorry."

For a multitude of reasons. So many of them. You seem to spot something in his eyes, frowning ever so slightly.

"You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm fine."

"I almost lost you."

"But you didn't."

"…I know. And I'm so fuckin' glad."

Seokmin runs his fingers in a distressed manner through dusty, matted strands of reddish-brown strands. Immediately drawing attention to the dirt, grime, and dried blood coating and dulling the cybernetic's buzzing glow.

"That's gonna be a pain in the ass to clean."

He appreciates the subject change, shooting you a lopsided grin. "Yeah, tell me 'bout it."

"Let me help."

You get up before he can protest. A tactical way to coerce him into worrying about helping you rather than arguing. The coy part of yourself is applauding the method, especially when the calloused flesh of his palm splays against the bare skin of your lower back in the name of support as you both walk to the bathroom.

That same part whispers naughty temptations to drop the t-shirt covering your chest, press up against him, and see his reaction. But your reasonable, reserved side is too held up on various other matters to give in.

Sadly, you find out you can't offer as much assistance as you would've liked. But Seokmin seems heartened by just seeing you up and about and close to him. Plus, you make use of your idleness while he washes in the sink by reaching for the few stocked amenities you can reach with your good shoulder above it when he asks for them. And you receive a heartfelt smile in return.

"I probably should've just showered."

You shrug. "You still could."

"Nah, it's fine, I can do it later. What about you, though? You're going to need help with those stitches."

"What a roundabout way to say you want to bathe together, Seok. You could've just asked."

Maybe you expected him to splutter nervously or protest fiercely at the tease. You certainly don't expect him to just shake his head — silver earring flashing in the vanity's dull lighting — and chuckle.

"I'm being serious, goof. Besides, it's not the first time I've seen you in the tub."

"What?" you squawk and his grin doesn't falter. In fact, it turns into a smirk.

"I'll go get Sherry. Lina's gonna want to see you too, she wouldn't stop crying about her pretty savior getting hurt."

You frown. Was he still going to dodge The Talk™? And did he think you were really just going to him out of your clutches that quickly?

"We still need to chat. You promised."

His eyes flash. "… And you don't like promises."

Yes, that was exactly why. He knew your history. Still, you refused to back down.

"No, I don't. But I like you… and, and most of all, I trust you. I just want the truth, Seok. Even if you think it'll hurt me, at least be honest. Trust me back. I promise it'll make it less painful if you tell me why you thought I wasn't serious. So, please…"

Don't let me down.

It's unspoken, but he can clearly hear it in your tone. A battle-worn sigh escapes so you try to lead him and finish with a question where he can give a more straightforward answer.

"… How long have you known? About the bet, I mean."

Despite wavering between semi-alertness and bordering the edge of losing consciousness, you're aware of Sheryl's presence as she bustles around with Seungkwan and Mingyu to clear out an empty room above the saloon temporarily used for patients. Seungcheol waits outside the door with you two, a cigarette loosely dangling from his lips.

When Sheryl leaves, she sneaks a peek at the way your face buries into Seokmin's neck, how the man carefully assesses the rest of your body for injuries. His touch is gentle, the cybernetic arm coated in blood as it holds the nail in you steady. He'd been adamant about being the one — the best one — to treat you. Smiling, she hands Seungcheol a couple of double dollars and the pastor raises an inquiring eyebrow.

"For that little game of yours," the woman whispers knowingly and gestures to the two who just exited the room and Seokmin hurriedly heads inside. "They told me all about it."

You lift your head to glare at Seungcheol and then your other comrades as you pass, wondering if this was some sick form of revenge for pulling one on him and if Sheryl was so keen to set you up with someone in the same way pompously done for her. But your shoulder feels like it's on fire so rather than reprimand your stupid, back-stabbing friends and slump back wearily against Seokmin.

He's a simple man who certainly can't hide a silly smile at the unconventional snuggling. Lifting his chin, he then tilts his head questioningly to the money in Seungcheol's hands. "You're still doing that bet?"

"Haf'ta win the lasses 'n hopeless romantics over 'n have 'em rootin' fer ya."

"Y-you know about the bet?"

Seokmin hushes you with a low murmur, words muffled by the press of his lips to the crown of your head. You can't make out what he says, but the timbre is soothing enough that your eyes close.

"Gotta make that sixty billion somehow if we're not turnin' ya ass in."

"Fair enough!" The wanted man laughs and closes the door with his foot.

His cheerful demeanor then dropped to focus on the proper procedures to treat your wound and that's when the silence settles in, soon followed by the weighing air of unresolved tension between you. And now, you're continuing the determined path to fully speed-run ahead and break it, though he shrugs nonchalantly at the question.

"Known for a while, to be honest."

"Seriously? I thought it was a secret!"

"C'mon, you know how bad Cheol is at keeping them."

"Yeah, right," you roll your eyes. "That man takes things to the grave — literally!"

"You're too hard on him." Seokmin leans toward you, bracing himself with an arm supported by the sink and brown eyes sparkling with humor. "Think about how much you've learned about him."

"Against my will, too much…"

"Which means I'm right."

"… I guess you do make a fair point."

"Of course. He's a completely open book once you peel back that damn protective hardcover of his."

Still, you sniff disdainfully and frown. "I swear, you're the only one who sees him like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…. unafraid, unconcerned, unbothered by all that he is, all that he's done, et cetera."

"Why not? He's done the same for me. Besides, I've said it before but he has those eyes, you know. Kind."

Ah, and that's what gets you to resign with a small grin. It's just like Seokmin to see only the good in people.

"And you're not all that different," he continues with a broad, knowing smile. Immediately you bristle and he clarifies, "from me." Some part of you momentarily wonders if you spoke your thoughts aloud or if he just simply knows them that well. "As loath as you are to admit it, you care for him. Most importantly, you trust him."

Though your face sours at the thought, you don't retort right away. Sure, Seungcheol is a trusted ally. And maybe the motivation to free Jeonghan from the control of the Eye of Joshua wasn't solely because it was simply the right thing to do. But also because it might brighten the dull spark and leave one less bloodstain on the hand of a man who bore the burdensome weight of all sins like a cross on his shoulders.

Then you wave away those thoughts for now. "So, is that why you thought I wasn't serious on how I feel about you. 'Cause of the bet?"

"No, because I never knew the full extent of it. But… if you're saying it had to do with your feelings, then I would have to say yes — though I find it hard to believe any bet's worth my bounty."

"Oh." Your cheeks heat at unwittingly giving it away.

Seokmin smirks when you avoid his gaze, and he moves in even closer. "No one has sixty billion double dollars just lying around, mayfly."

"You're just saying that so no one turns you over to July."

"Well, you won't do it, will you?"

"You don't know that," you fire back, intending to heighten your defenses that only weakly falter because you're still not looking at him.

"But I do."

"Yeah? Prove it!"

Ooh, a challenge.

And one more step closer.

"Because you care too much about the man you like to put him behind bars."

Your eyes dart back to meet his, ready to squint reproachfully only to widen at how the gunslinger's face is only a breadth away from yours. Breath hitching, you desperately want to whine out in irritation but it comes out in a low whimper. Seokmin's canines flash in the bathroom's dim lighting.

"That's not, that's not fair." The wall pressing into your bare back keeps you from retreating and the hand keeping the t-shirt covering your chest feels how your heartbeat speeds up. Your skin is on fire, only the cool temperature of your locket and its chain preventing you from utterly exploding after the plaintive admission of, "You already know everything. But…"

"But…?"

The unconscious action of biting into your lower lip only gets realized by the way it keenly draws Seokmin's eyes. Electric blue flashes against brown irises yet they darken to almost black with the sudden thrill of desire that rises to the surface. He's so close, you can feel his breath caress your face, and you swear you hear it deepen into a low grunt before he raises a brow for you to continue.

"But… b-but I don't know…a single… thing."

Seokmin has forever believed Rem's take regarding the ticket to the future always being blank. For him, it's always been an unknown path forward that he's let lead him wherever and to whatever destination.

He holds himself back, just enough to utter the (practically what should be unneeded) words of reassurance, "It could only ever be you — and it's always been only you — that I could be in love with so much, mayfly," and then he's eliminating the meager distance between the two of you. For the first time, he stamps that blank ticket with an assuredness of the future and outcome he's never had before — with a kiss.

Cradling the back of your head with his cybernetic prosthesis, the other cups your cheek and then trails down to your collarbones — but no further than appropriate. His mouth, though, disregards the very notion. A teasing tongue repeatedly runs across your bottom lip to smooth out the indents caused earlier by your teeth then naughtily pokes and prods its way between, eliciting a sweet gasp from you he absolutely devours.

Your whole body shudders with happiness, eagerly surrendering to the man's wild, possessive fervor as he passionately steals the breath out of your lungs and stakes his claim on you by leaving behind shiny kiss-bitten lips. Seokmin only draws away, panting, to admire his handiwork, light-headed and dizzy with delight.

"I love you," he reconfirms with his forehead resting against yours and nose tickling your own, "… partner."

Breathlessly, you joke back after placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Love you too, partner."

And that was that.

With your shoulder injury on the mend and the other members of your little ragtag group nursing their own bumps and bruises, you all decided to spend one more night in Tonim — much to Lina's delight. While she merrily bounced from one 'hero' to the next, you playfully reminded Wonwoo that he still owed you some free drinks. You were eager to take advantage of the fact and he was more than willing to accommodate.

The tavern that originally held a subdued, slightly hostile air to it when you first arrived was now filled with an unfettered joyous harmony. You're so easily swept up in the ambiance of such high spirits and jubilant townsfolk as mug ales filled to the brim get passed around and clinked together, you fail to notice Seokmin's sudden withdrawn nature.

Not until the next morning do you first realize something's off.

"You're sure about this?"

"Oh, no. Not you too, Seok."

You'd already flipped off and shoved away a complaining, terribly hungover Seungcheol and finally got rid of the watchful, fretting gazes of Seungkwan and Mingyu. The duo had been hovering around you with concern ever since you downed a full glass of alcohol last night. While you generally just let them be and were quite thankful not to wake up with a pounding headache, you certainly weren't above crushing all of Mingyu's pudding cups if he meekly asked one more time if you were okay or needed help.

Seokmin leans against the open door frame as you pack. The pulsating glow of lost technology flickers in your peripheral and keeps you aware of his quiet presence. Part of you had always wondered if the ever-running currents of lighting synced with the flow of blood through the rest of his body.

The gunslinger doesn't speak, and you wonder why. And though you'd like to flatter yourself and entertain the notion that he's watching you — while other times that may be true — you don't feel the weight of his eyes trained on your motions. It wasn't like there was much to stuff in your bag, the satchel's leather cracked, faded, and well-worn after all these years of use through the desert and everything you truly value remains strapped some way to your body. So once you're finished, you inquisitively peek over in his direction.

Brown eyes are trained on the clunky gun on the mattress — the same one you'd pressed against his head. It's also the exact same pistol Chan had spent his adolescence restoring and repairing. Left unnamed unlike the honorary grave Seokmin had helped you prep before leaving the ruins of Ivywood behind. Meanwhile, his gaze darts to linger in contemplation on the chain around your neck before his eyebrows furrow, emphasizing the drawn out features and dark circles beneath his eyes.

"You look tired, you doing okay?"

"Yeah, just haven't been… sleeping well."

Frowning, you step toward him. Although he doesn't back away, his entire posture stiffens. "Will you be able to make the journey?"

He snorts, gesturing to your shoulder you're trying not to move too much. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to be asking you?"

"I'll feel better at the border."

Seokmin nods understandingly. "The weather will align well."

Within the sandstorms that relentlessly swirl near the Melca Border Sea of Sand, hides the only SEEDS floating ship that survived the Great Fall and you have to get the timing just right to reach it. It's home to a large community of humans, and most importantly, it's what you would consider a true home to you and Seokmin. Already, your energy restores — excited at the prospect of getting to relax in a place you trust and people you truly enjoy being around.

"Jun can take a look at my shoulder."

"That's true, it would be good for him to do."

"And I'm sure Hao's going to want to check your arm, maybe fashion some fabric that's not only bulletproof but also nail-proof."

"He's gonna give us both a scolding."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

You share a look of fond chagrin. Even though Seokmin's well over a century older than Juhui and Minghao, they were direct Earth descendants aboard a ship full of lost technology and geniuses in their own right. Those facts alone gave them all the confidence and utter audacity to more often than not, act like fretting toma mothers over the two of you.

Nonetheless, you appreciated them with all that's remaining of your heart.

The trip to the Melca Border wasn't a straight shot from Tonim but it wasn't as far as you thought. A bittersweet farewell to Wonwoo, Lina, Sherry, and the rest of the townsfolk was to be expected. Though their sorrow weighed you down, the knowledge that you were parting from them with good memories and the expectations to visit again kept your steps light-footed.

Seokmin remains zoned out the entire time. You bulk it up to his normal reaction whenever something emotional was on the horizon. Returning to Melca held a grand spread of wonderful, warm memories with a scattering of dreadfully sad ones too. Though the floating ship's defenses have been bolstered to the max over the years, the terrible events weren't easy to forget.

But they were incidents in the past and it's thanks to the intellect of the two who greet you at the entrance of the ship that their defenses continue to improve. Luida proudly stands behind them, accompanied by Brad and his wife.

"Greetings, weary travelers."

"We're no strangers, Luida," Seokmin protests against her formality.

The elderly leader's playful grin smooths out the wrinkles lining her wise face. "Welcome home, children."

It's a simple phrase but one that fills you with inexplicable warmth. Hansol might be the son born of her own body, but no one is immune from her maternal instinct. She beckons for everyone to come inside where the main quarters lie and the growing crew population will certainly be enthusiastic upon hearing about your return.

Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan trail after without fuss, also elated to be aboard the familiar floating ship. You smile with genuine delight and step forward to follow while Minghao takes one look over his wire-rimmed glasses to survey Seokmin's dusty figure and elegantly tilts his head knowingly in the hallway leading to the technology laboratory. Glittery, colorful beads woven through the long strands of his two-toned hair clink in time with the movement.

It's hard to hide the snicker that escapes as you watch Seokmin trudge after Minghao like a scolded puppy. Your glee at someone else's suffering doesn't last long when a gentle hand clasps your shoulder. Wincing at the pain, you meet Junhui's puzzled look before his eyes narrow.

"You're hurt," he says, disappointed but not surprised, and leads you away to the med bay. It's exactly what you expected, in fact, the main reason behind why you're here — and yet, you sulk and whine petulantly just because you can.

"Not my fault that the only way to get here is by timing everything right to jump into a sandstorm and then onto a flying platform."

After instructing you to lie down on the medical bed and cutting the fabric of your shirt without fanfare, Junhui clicks his tongue. "You only come to visit when you're hurt."

"Not true!"

He concentrates on disinfecting and resewing the torn stitches in the tender flesh around the parts of your wound that are still healing. His tone borders on slight resentment but the concern weighing in it smoothes it all over.

"And yet most of our time spent together is only when you visit so I can patch you up."

"It's not like that."

"I know… but I would've met you elsewhere."

"Boring."

"Can't you courteously pretend to care about yourself out of consideration for those who worry?"

"You'll go gray at such a very young age if you stress all the time, Jun."

He shakes away silver bangs that threaten to impede his vision, unamused. "And you'll end up buried under the sand next time."

"Sounds cozy."

"I swear —"

You wave his growing ire away. "Seok takes care of me just fine."

"Yes," Junhui's cat-like smile causes your metaphorical hackles to raise. "He does care deeply about you."

"I'll punt you into the fifth moon and give it a second crater with your body."

"Now, now… violence is never the answer."

"Violence is the only reason you have a job!"

If you weren't as close as you were, perhaps he'd be offended by your claim. Instead, he kicks you out (after ensuring you're indeed in relatively good health), leaving you to laugh victoriously. Then, you set off to the technology lab in good spirits, hoping to catch Seokmin and commiserate with him.

Instead, you find a lone Minghao sitting refinedly amongst all the tech with grace and poise. He was in his element. Fiddling with and poking at a well-worn, familiar cybernetic tech with a thin silver instrument, he simply raises an eyebrow to acknowledge your presence.

"Did you fit Seok with a new arm?"

"But of course," the man sighs wearily, "despite my best efforts, my darlings always return home to their father with quite a beating."

"… Then you'll hate what I'm about to tell you."

"No, I cannot fashion you a pierce-proof trench coat. However, I will acquire some stronger material… but there better not be a next time."

You purse your lips and pout. It often seemed like Minghao worried more about his inventions than the people using them, though you knew that to ultimately not be true.

"So, he already told you what happened."

"Oh, yes… he told me everything." Heterochromatic eyes suddenly meet yours, sharp with a spark of amusement. "See, I almost didn't want to give him the latest modification but…"

"But…" You repeat warily.

Junhui was always mischievous, though most of it only ended with harmless pranks. On the other hand, Minghao's sarcasm-filled humor rarely made an appearance, and when it did, it usually delighted in the sickest of satisfactions.

Yet, he simply shrugs, evasive as always. "I think you'll like its improvements."

There's something foreboding about that statement, but he ushers you away under the pretense that he needs to concentrate. And shortly, you find yourself stopped by curious passersby or familiar faces in the hallways to the main quarters. Since your last visit, a multitude of passengers have a lot to share and update you on. By the time you reach your own pod, you're socially exhausted.

Sleep came easy but finding Seokmin did not. The SEEDS ship was already big in the first place and additional construction enlarged it further. An itchy, achy feeling pooled inside your gut on the second evening you'd been unable to catch sight of him. Finally, you acknowledged the bitter truth — he was avoiding you.

You had to come to terms with how delusional it was to think that once everything was out in the open, the scattered puzzle pieces would magically fall together in their rightful places. It should be easy, right? It's what happened in those cheap novels Junhui dug out of an abandoned pod in Melca back in the day. He'd given them to you as a birthday joke — Minghao sighing and handing over your real present (the first bullet-proof trench coat) — but you'd actually read through all the cheesy, steamy piles of romantic drivel.

Seungkwan, ever the cynic, and Seungcheol — who's naturally a heathen — quickly destroyed the slim spark of hope of ever hoping to feel those flutters in your gut. Meanwhile, Mingyu was someone precious and wholesome with a romantic outlook on life underneath the great muscular physique he'd gained from carrying that heavy concussion gun around.

You often wondered why they never tormented him like they did to you. But despite his indomitable stature, the emotionally soft man's tears were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Even if he didn't quite realize it, his comrades certainly were aware.

And Seokmin… well, if you knew how Seokmin felt about romance, you wouldn't be stuck in the position of wondering why the fuck he was avoiding you.

Again.

"Where is he?"

"Good morning," Mingyu greets the following morning, cheerful as ever. "If you're still hunting Seokmin for sport, he said he's feelin' a little sick!"

"Sure."

"No, he really is." Seungkwan refutes your aggressive eye roll with a gentle shake of his head. "Loverboy hasn't come out of his room for days and when I almost knocked the door in earlier, he finally responded only to sound like a dying toma."

Your face contorts into a morbid combination of concern and irritation, shifting between the two expressions. "Probably 'cause he stayed out all last night!"

And with a dramatic huff, you glower at the pastor seated in the cramped corner of the floating ship's kitchen area. Seungcheol deemed it was cooler, darker, and the farthest spot in the enclosed space from any of your misplaced wrath. He smiles, the white stick between whiter teeth jollily flicking up and down at you, taunting.

He reveled in the knowledge of being safe since he'd been the only one able to provide any information on the humanoid typhoon's whereabouts. The pastor — who still enjoyed a late-night smoke to cure some of his insomnia — considered it his saving grace to catch sight of the fellow gunslinger slinking through the shadows in the halls. Apparently, Seokmin had been sneaking outside the past few nights and remained resolutely ever-elusive during the day.

"Should go see 'im. Yer all antsy and 'm bettin' he's missin' his… mayfly."

"Oh, go fuck yourself," you snarl and storm out, missing the man's bark of laughter before he continues contemplating the best way to siphon money during a confessional.

The unfaltering stomp of your combat boots is the background beat on your walk to Seokmin's pod. His halls aren't far from the kitchen area and yet each footfall feels like a step into the unknown, the lights above seeming to grow dimmer the closer you get.

Why was he acting like this?

Did he regret everything that happened between you?

Was something wrong?

Would he shut himself away from you?

Worry and anger swirl together, mirroring the vortex of sand you had to pass through to get here. Seokmin's never shut you completely out before but you're familiar with his reclusive acts when things get too much. Too close. Too emotional. And you're afraid to be the catalyst to another spiral.

So, you knock. Harsh, loud, and ultimately unforgiving if ignored.

"Seokmin, open up! I know you're alive!"

A mutter of "Barely," carries through the door before he clearly answers with a curt, "I'm not feeling well but I'll be fine."

"Open the door."

Silence.

"Please."

The silence continues — and your temper flares. "Don't make me go get my bag and grab my lock-picking set!"

You can hear sounds of cursing and some rustling around before the door slowly and reluctantly opens, Seokmin hiding in the shadow it casts.

"As you can see, I'm quite fi —"

Both a coughing jag and the firm push of your shoe interrupts his confident statement. "Sure hope you weren't about to say you're fine!"

A faint smoky scent permeates the pod. You cough and pause to let your vision adjust to the darkness. The first hint toward Seokmin's unusual behavior because he thrived in the sunlight, no matter how weak the sunrays that reached the floating ship were. Then second, you blink in wonderment at the black heaps littering the bed and floor.

Feathers. Everywhere.

Reminiscent of the time you'd broken Seungcheol's ridiculously expensive pillow against Mingyu's bulky bicep during a good-natured fight with Seungkwan's assistance. But instead of an explosion of brown and aqua toma plumage causing you all to sneeze, these were inky dark like the night sky and resembled piles of soot against the pod's stark white backdrop.

You whirl around to find Seokmin retreating to the corner of the room, hands slamming on top of the dresser for support. His back is to you with two thin wings jutting out from it. Feathers rustle as he pants, shoulders coinciding up and down with the motion of the wings.

"Seok, how did… how did this happen?"

It's not fear that causes your voice to tremble but worry. The appearance of his natural Plant form is no longer shocking. In fact, the more you see it, the more you find it eerily beautiful. Probably similar to those who believe them to be messengers of a higher power. But he's only ever transformed in dire situations — either due to stress or the rare exhaustion of his superhuman abilities against stronger foes.

He doesn't reply so you take a cautious step forward. An animalistic growl erupts from his throat, followed by a pained groan. You gasp as he shakes, protrusions rupturing from the lower parts of his shoulder blades. Two more wings burst out and unfurl below the trembling ones already quivering on his back.

So that's how they hide and reappear.

"Is it 'cause you're sick? Choi said you've been staying out all night. You could've caught a cold or something's in the air. Never know what's floating around here." You babble as you frantically search for signs in the mirror above the dresser for any hints to what's caused this.

Seokmin's bent over and you note what should be brunette roots of hair are now pitch-black too. Closer and closer you creep until you can make out each bead of perspiration trickling down his neck and how they coat every bare part of his body in a sheen of sweat.

Then his head snaps up. An eye — unshielded by the black fringe of his red-brown tipped bangs — narrows to glare into your widened ones. A tempest of electric blue rages within it. Like the hottest type of fire, it burns more than you could ever expect in a vortex of one prominent emotion.

Desire.

An involuntary shudder overtakes your whole body, and you unconsciously bite your lip. Seokmin slumps back down, granting respite from that ardent azure glow.

"Sick," he snarls and laughs, strained. "Sick in the head, that's for sure."

"How… how can I help? What can I do for you?"

"Get out."

"Seok —"

"I'm serious, mayfly. For your own good. Leave."

"My own good?"

"I'll, hah, I'll explain… explain it later."

Your arms cross. "Oh, really? Or will you avoid me again? Like you have been for the past several days?"

"I haven't —"

"Don't you dare feign indifference! I'm not stupid — we talk about our feelings and then you retreat. Just be honest with me… please."

You promised.

He sucks in a very deep inhale through clenched teeth, seeming to regret it instantly because his grip on the edge of the dresser is hard enough to crack the strong material. Glowering at your reflection again — not daring to acknowledge your very real and extremely close presence in the room — Seokmin bares his sharpened and widened incisors in a snarl.

"We will talk, mayfly, please believe me. Now's… hah… just not great timing with… with what's happening."

Irritation easily gives way back to worry. "At least tell me what I can do for you. Should I get Jun?"

"He can't do anything. Gotta just… work it out of my system."

"Work what?" You frown, knowing how rare it is for the medical specialist to be stumped.

"It's not for certain…" Four different wings flutter in agitation at various speeds. "Not a lot's known about Plant physiology," his mouth turns downward, "even I don't have a thorough understanding."

"Is it a disease?"

"Wish it was that simple."

"You're talking in riddles and running verbal circles, Seok."

"… Dokyeom and I are independent Plants. Likely the only ones, well, you know — still functioning. Alive. When Rem found us, research was obviously done."

You know the story very well and nod. "And had been conducted before."

"'Course thanks to Rem, it wasn't as invasive but there were, hah, occasional talks. Theories. And then, of course, before us twins, there was…"

"… Tesla."

A Plant with a lifespan of only two-hundred and thirty days.

Seokmin swallows. "Tesla. Yes. I recall bits and pieces. Hypothesized with Luida and company… Outside of Dokyeom following the unethical methods humans sometimes conduct for experimentation," he snorts at the irony, "it's thought that Plants… can copulate… with a mate… of their, hah, choosing."

"Really?" Your eyebrows raise, intrigued. "That's a brilliant discovery!" Then they furrow. "Wait, are you saying that this," you wave your hand to gesture at his current form, "is because… you're, er, ready to… mate?"

He holds his head. "… Yes."

"Oh, okay. So, you need like… relief? A mate? Should I…?"

Your questions hang uncertainly in the air, unfinished because you're really not sure what you're supposed to even offer. A sarcastic smirk graces Seokmin's lips, condescending in the sort of way that's aimed more at himself.

"What kind of man do you think I am, mayfly?"

"A very, uh, Planty one for sure."

"Better than leafy, I suppose."

"Though you are quite… feathery."

Finally, he turns toward you, a wry and defeated smile on his weary face. His wings stretch outward and curl back in, elegantly waving toward you as if drawn in your direction. You can't help but smile at the object hanging from a cord around his neck.

"You still keep that old thing around?"

He looks at the golden cartridge and chuckles. "It's special."

"Me holding a gun to your head was special?""Meeting you will always remain a treasured memory, no matter the manner of how it happened." Seokmin falls quiet, lost in thought before hesitantly asking, "Did I not mention Plants mate for life? Well, at the very least, I know I do."

"Oh." Your astonishment reveals itself in a breathless gasp. There's no escaping that all-consuming, fiery cerulean gaze. "So is this the first time you've been… ready to, uh, mate?"

"No, I'm used to the way these cycles come and go. But this for sure is the worst bout yet."

"… Why?"

You hold your breath. He takes a step forward. Then another.

He's so close, if you leaned the slightest bit forward you'd press up against each other. Somehow, with an overwhelming sense of shyness guessing the underlying thoughts and what his answer will be, your eyes roam his bare upper chest and torso.

If you could caress him you would. All the shiny black feathers adorning his wings and the occasional ones sprouting along his forearms pointing to his Plant abilities. Each scar along with every bit of metal or his body's naturally grown wood that replaces chunks of lost flesh. He's kept them as reminders of when he's failed humans, though you've seen them only as when they've failed him. He shivers, like he can feel it, as if he knows what you're thinking and you questioningly re-meet his burning stare as he shoots you a wane smile.

Sheepishly, he rubs where the cybernetic arm attaches to his shoulder. Many have turned away in disgust or mock pity at the disfigurements. Yet despite the true abomination he looks like right now, there's only ever been pure empathy and acceptance he doesn't deserve — all from you.

"Conscious consent and reciprocation."

Your lips turn upward, joy causing your soul to unwittingly sing. "Does that mean… I'm your mate?"

"No."

It's like Gunsmoke completely collapses, and you're left twirling without footing in space. Seokmin matches your fallen expression with one of his own.

"What? Wh-why?"

"Don't get me wrong, it's —"

"I swear if you say 'It's me, not you'…"

He rather adorably tilts his head. "How did you know?"

"It's a typical cliche," you roll your eyes, "just give it to me straight, Seokmin. Is it 'cause I'm human?"

"… It's not that simple, and this isn't something trivial. It's — hah — it's a huge commitment." The use of your given name indicates his seriousness. "A lifetime one. For me, it's only ever been you… and it will always be you for as long as I live, which could be your whole lifespan! And I don't, hah, I don't know — hell, it's taking everything I can not to tear a dead man apart, let alone what I'd do if you'd change your mind, want something — someone else."

"You're doing it again, projecting and underestimating my feelings for you."

"It could be the effect of my pheromones, mayfly. We don't know every —"

"That's right! We don't know! So we have to trust each other and see."

"It's —"

"Let's not subject ourselves to the hypothetical. And what do you mean by dead man?"

Seokmin's jaw tenses, fingernails digging into numb skin. His wings waver, like they're considering cocooning around him for protection. But their tips simply flutter as if soothed by an unseen force, preventing them from enclosing completely.

Teasingly, you lean toward him and squint. "What else aren't you telling me, Seok? You pick a side hustle up that involves the deceased like Choi?"

He snorts at the audacity and doesn't take the bait. Instead, unfamiliar but still achingly familiar irises dart to your neck, tracing the silver chain laying against your skin. A dull sort of sadness fizzles out those blue fires and you clasp the shape of the locket beneath your shirt in realization.

"He was a boy, Seok. A boy I grew up with for a short period, one that felt like a brother to me."

"… You said you loved him."

"When?"

"… To Cheol. After you first met him."

"That would've been so long ago? How do you even remember that?"

He sighs, heavily. "It's not easy to forget. Your voice was so warm, so gentle, so in love when you admitted it."

"Love can mean different things! And I assure you, my feelings for you differ greatly from how I felt about him. And… he's… he's long gone, Seok."

Guilt burns in his eyes. "I know. Which makes me all the worse."

"No, it doesn't." You shake your head, a resigned smile resting on your lips, and hold your arms out. "'Cause I understand and forgive you. And most importantly, I love you."

It's uncertain if those words break or restore him, but the hard rigidness in his body melts away, sagging in a semblance of relief. Then he rushes forward into your waiting embrace, wings helping to propel him forward until they wrap around and press you to him tight, tickling areas where his arms aren't squeezing around you.

"And I adore you, my lovely mayfly."

You groan. "When will you stop calling me that?"

"Never," he snickers and you feel the curve of his lips as he comfortably nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "For as long as you're mine."

"Yours?"

"Mine."

"Sucker."

A chaste kiss brushes the lower tip of your ear. So ticklish and unexpected, you pull back with a giggle and playfully swat his shoulder. And just as he's about to dive forward and prove your little comment correct in retaliation, you burst into full-on laughter that leaves Seokmin to settle his hands on your waist with confusion crinkling his brow.

"What?"

"So that's why you were always having a deathly staring match between my childhood memorabilia?"

"… Was not."

"You — the most sentimental loser ever — definitely were!"

He pouts momentarily, the cute jut out of his lower lip quickly transforming to a devious smirk. "You'd bet on it?"

"Totally." You place your arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer again and matching the charge of electricity with a clever tilt of your lips. "I'd win, too."

"And what's on the table?"

"Sixty billion double dollars, of course."

"That so?"

"Mhm, and it seems like someone's bounty matches that worth."

Seokmin quirks a brow. "Seems like you want me on the table."

"Winner takes all?"

"Mayfly, I've always been yours."

"Sap," you laugh again.

A bright grin certainly declares your delight in victory, though your partner in crime uses the distraction as an advantage for his earlier loss and wastes no time. Diving in, a sharpened canine grazes your pulse point, automatically causing your head to tilt to offer easier access. Two left wings sweetly swoop down for support, feathered tips tenderly brushing your forehead.

The heat of his tongue placates the dragging scratch of his fangs. Though it sears you alive, heating your entire body from the tips of your toes, swirling in your core, and concentrating beneath Seokmin's lips on your skin.

When reaching that cold, familiar necklace you treasure so much and he can't help but loathe, it's seized between his teeth before he registers the action. Tugging it away from your neck like a dog, you wonder if he'll even shake it like one. His eyes follow the length of the chain, focusing on where the locket pops out above your chest.

You raise a questioning brow. "You gonna just play with my jewelry or take my clothes off?"

"Oh," Seokmin whispers, jaw dropping, and suddenly stands stiffly at attention.

You watch, entranced by the bob of his Adam's apple as he visibly gulps. Large, calloused hands — so practiced in undressing you for baths and patching up wounds — falter as they skim along your sides in a fleeting touch. Smiling encouragingly, you intertwine your fingers with those of his prosthetic while leading the other one beneath your shirt, the rough flesh of his palm blisteringly hot against your stomach.

"Is this okay? Can it help calm your Plant powers?"

"Yes… but that means… giving yourself to me… forever."

"Can't think of anything I'd enjoy more."

Confident, you trail kisses up his jaw to his cheek, stopping near his ear. Playfully tugging at the earring hoop as you pull away. Then you break away and bend over, shimmying off your shorts in one smooth motion. Stepping out of them, next goes your top. As each fabric hits the floor, Seokmin's eyes become more lidded, heavy with want. Smoldering. Desiring.

Four black wings fan out and stay as rigid as his stance. As if they're waiting with bated breath. And when you finally stand bare before him, he sheepishly drags his gaze to the floor with a flustered smile.

"I'm the one naked and you're embarrassed?" you tease and his posture relaxes.

"Because you're a vision to behold."

"Says the one who looks like an angel."

You back up until your knees hit the side of the bed. Like those morbid tales that depict curious listeners following a luring call to their demise, Seokmin's only a step behind you. He doesn't dare let his eyes stray further from your own, a goofy grin on his face.

"Consider this my fall from grace then, mayfly."

Gingerly, you sit on the edge of the mattress, waiting for his next move. He towers over you in this position. Formidable in appearance yet oh-so-gentle when picking up your left hand to kiss your knuckles and rub his thumb across its faded scar. Another smooch gets placed to your inner wrist and you hold your breath at the passion in those blazing cyan depths that refuse to look away. Then, a cautious touch to your shoulder urges you onto your back. Obediently, you lay down and a bunch of stray loose feathers fly up into the air upon impact.

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

The clothed knee resting between your legs helps his arm support the weight of his body hovering above you. A tentative hand slides down from your shoulder to your hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Caressing every scar, memorizing each color and swirl of ink decorating your skin, and erasing any insecurities or blemishes you see in yourself. Cold digits draw whimsical shapes and tickle your abdomen, stopping above your pelvic bone.

"May I?"

"Of course."

Seokmin rejoices in your consent by littering your collarbone with love bites. And his touches move lower, tender despite their mechanical nature. Warmth blossoms and flows under every surface of your skin Seokmin's traced, coiling and settling in a pulsating — almost painful — heat rupturing between your legs.

Only he can be the one to relieve this ache which he precisely aims to do. A simple, single brush across sensitive folds instantly has your breath hitching, shaking beneath him.

"Are you alright?"

"Mhm… yes."

He audibly gulps at your unexpected whimper of ecstasy, reluctantly tearing away from watching amorous bliss overtake your facial expression to the wet heat detected by his pointer finger's sensors. A feral growl rumbles in his chest at the debauched sight of desire beginning to dampen your thighs — the trace of what he's been smelling from you now overloading every single one of his senses as he coaxes more to flow from you. Seokmin's more than thankful for his enhanced vision and the glow of cybernetic technology baring your most intimate parts to him.

Guided by an instinctual impulse, he eases a finger inside. Your back automatically arches off the bed, eliciting a sweet gasp of delight. The cool touch of the digit seized tightly by the pulsating walls of your cunt slowly warms as it adjusts to the welcome intrusion. He soothingly brushes the knuckle of his middle finger across the soft outer flesh of your pussy to relax its grip. Eventually it lets up enough to let him explore further and deeper than your own have ever reached.

"I'm… I'm not sure how best to please you," Seokmin admits, drinking in your every reaction to his curious ministrations. "But there's this urge, this need, to make you feel good. Prep you properly for my… my entry."

By pure accident, he strokes a rough patch of nerves that makes your eyes roll back, hips lifting at the sensation of wanting more of whatever that feeling was, and your quiet noises melt into a loud, needy moan.

"More," you plead, "touch me more, Seok."

He eases his other finger inside without question, grunting at the squeeze that almost prevents him from moving to where you want him the most. But unlike the rest of his quivering body, the prosthesis remains steady, still, and patient. Waiting until it can bully itself and a third finger past your entrance's vice-like clench.

You start pulling on your breasts, trying to alleviate the tingling in them. Seokmin observes with a keen eye and a toothy, fanged grin. After a bit, he leans down to let his tongue trace the underside of one mound, leaving behind a saliva trail shining in the unconventional lighting as he tends to the next. Alternating with playful nips and naughty tugs to your nipples whenever your grip on them falters from the overwhelming pleasure.

So attentive and eager, soon you're writhing beneath him as you hit your peak. One hand grips your hip tightly, surely to leave a bruise with the way it cramps. His other doesn't let up, well-oiled mechanisms continuing to pump in and out of your trembling pussy until you whine from the overstimulation.

His wings fold protectively around both of you like a canopy as you share a tender kiss. Dazed and happy, you tenderly brush back black bangs and play with one of the feathers that's sprouted near the hairline above his ear. He shivers.

"Let me take care of you too."

"Are you sure? What about your shoulder?"

"That's the least of my concerns right now."

"I can still…"

"Later. First, I want to help you."

Suddenly, Seokmin's shy again, flushed cheeks darkening. "I… I think I'm a little different… down there so it's okay if you don't want to… or get scared."

"It's not like I've seen enough dicks to compare whether what you're packing is normal."

The both of you share a goofy laugh that eases the presumed awkwardness. He sits back to unbutton his pants but you stop him.

"May I?"

You might as well have knocked the air out of his lungs. He stares at you wide-eyed and then emphatically nods, finally clearing his throat to squeak out, "Sure."

Ignoring the aftershocks of your earlier orgasm, you sit up and kneel in front of him. Intent on a few minor distractions, your mouth and hands start at his shoulders to work their way down. Imagining you have the power to heal the damage dealt to his body and soul through tender touches.

You see a sad sense of beauty and justice in the patchwork of metal bolts and bark. And as you apply marks of love that bruise and blossom between them, he lets out a content warble. You're quick to undo the button of his pants, both of you gasping at the utterly wet mess seeping through the material when you tug the zipper down with your teeth.

He lifts his hips to help and once he's just as naked as you do you take him in. Anatomy was meagerly touched upon during your days at the convent, so truthfully all you're aware of at the sight of his heavy cock is the need to be filled with it.

And the closest thing to take him is your mouth, jaw already aching before you even open it. Almost reverently, your hands wrap around to stabilize it. Seokmin hisses pleasantly at the contact.

"You don't have to —"

He's cut off by a groan as you inquisitively suckle the tip. The copious amounts of slick smearing from it and down the base taste sweeter than Seungcheol's lollipops and you moan heartily, causing his thighs beneath your elbows to tense at the vibrations.

"Oh, mayfly."

A wing caresses your cheek that bulges as you take more and more of him, Seokmin's hands tearing at the sheets. The tip of another wing tantalizingly drags down your bare back. Your hands begin to explore, finding the puffy edges around the slit from which the thick cock emerges from. His hips jolt upwards at the contact to sensitive tissues, causing you to gag.

"Ah, 'm sorry!"

While he whispers repeated apologies, you're only compelled to take him further. Slowly you get used to the stretch, but no matter how much more you're able to squeeze down your throat there's still enough of his length for both of your hands to play with. It gets easier the more aggressive you get, his cock seeming to respond to your vigor in tandem. Soon you're lost to the haze of whether you're bobbing your head up and down or it's swirling languidly in your mouth on its own accord.

Seokmin's hips stutter but you feel the tremor first pulse against the inner walls of your throat. His cock throbs as you pull off of it, hollowing your cheeks and parting with deliberately powerful suction. A loud pop releases its tip and your hand supports its weighty girth falling forward. You dig the nails of your free hand into the muscle of his quaking thigh, ducking down to teethe at the puffy slit from where his cock must emerge.

Moving on to licking and dragging the point of your tongue along the sizable vein lining the underside causes Seokmin's low groans to turn into a high-pitched trill. Once you reach the swollen, leaking head and nibble on the hard glans, it spasms wildly and finally erupts. From the top slit seeps sweet syrupy fluid that readily overflows into your awaiting, open mouth.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he blabbers.

You'd reply that there's no need for gratitude, perhaps you'd thank him, but the viscous release keeps spilling out. Rivulets trickle well past your lips and coat your chest. Although still in a euphoric daze, his eyes flash with sharp satisfaction. Instantly possessive at the sight of your bare body decorated so erotically.

His wings snap open — filled with purpose — and your face is pressed down into the mattress. Surrounded in a smoky musk as the angelic monstrosity it belongs to and destined to be your mate hovers above.

Your voice comes out hoarse as you raise up onto your elbows and spitefully spit out a black feather. "Do those wings of yours prevent you from being topped or something?"

"I'll let you find out another time, partner," Seokmin huffs, laughter evident despite his apparent breathlessness. He steals a tender kiss, pleased grunting at how your lips — shiny and swollen — taste of him. "But for now…"

Like an anchor, the tech material warmed by your shared body heat and passion winds underneath your hips, keeping them raised. A calloused, ticklish touch roams traces your spine. He draws an occasional spiral here and there as he goes, mindful of your wound, until firmly pinning the nape of your neck to the side, creating the perfect arch of your back.

"I think you'll like this," Seokmin says as if he isn't liking the view below him.

But for you, straight ahead lies the dresser's mirror. It reflects the full manifestation of an independent Plant poised to devour a human in the most intimate sense. The fearsome size of his cock lies heavy on top of your ass, leaking droplets of arousal all over your backside.

"Will it fit?"

"Of course, you are mine to claim and take." His hips just forward and you both moan. "I think we're both wet enough to try."

"I trust you."

"Let me know if it hurts in any way and we'll stop right away, mayfly."

Many troupes of desert-traveling dancers have mesmerized you before. Yet even they can't compare to the graceful and smooth motion of Seokmin releasing your neck to align his tip with the entrance of your cunt and slowly bullying his way in.

Tears of pain mixing to unfathomable pleasure blur the vision of your mouth widening to let out whines and moans. "Seokkie…"

"Mhm, mayfly… my love… my mate."

Finally, the front of his thighs are flush against yours. Hips pressed tight against your ass. Fully sheathed inside your tight hole, neither of you have ever felt such intensity before. He surrenders his body weight on top of yours, hands braced outside of yours clenching loose feathers and silk sheets. The outer heaviness matches the intensity of what your pussy struggles to accommodate.

"Mine."

Seokmin's hips swirl at a slow pace. Rather than thrust, he massages the sensitive glands at the base of his cock with the soft flesh of your ass. His length seems to shrink and grow and writhe with a mind of its own, filling and teasing you nonstop. Leaving no surface of your inner walls untouched or untended to for too long.

"Yours."

You shudder in blissed-out delirium and Seokmin lights up — literally.

Fluorescent lines glow in distinct patterns across skin, brightening the more he starts to pant and build up your shared pleasure. Sharp canines prick into the skin of your unmarked shoulder as he wraps his prosthesis under your stomach to raise your hips, the new position driving you faster to that rapidly approaching edge. You cry out with a lurch, blurrily making out his glowing form that shudders above.

Though the view in the mirror gets hidden by black wings stroking your entire body. Teasing the underside of your tits and tenderly brushing away the stings of his teeth marks.

"I-I love you," Seokmin rasps.

"Love…" You manage to enunciate the words, mind emptying and drool wetting the bed as your second peak approaches. "Love you too."

Pain and pleasure draw forth an onslaught of your apparent arousal that lecherously mixes with the frothy mess dribbling from his cock. Claws appear on Seokmin's right hand, another addition to the bestial Plant features emerging in the throes of passion. He's not completely lost to the primal thrall though, able to resist from breaking skin.

Delicately scratching your waist without drawing blood, then using the finely pointed tips to pluck and tease effortlessly at your clit. You cry out, body shaking as waves of euphoria crash against the shoreline of imminent pleasure.

Seokmin helps ride out your peak with a couple of speedy thrusts. The feeling of his hips slamming into you has you seeing more stars than Gunsmoke's galaxy contains. And just as you're overcome with too much stimulation, he lets go with a particularly strong bite into the top of your shoulder.

His cock softens and its heavy weight like a blanket along with the continual pump of his warm, soothing release. The feeling of it leaving none of your inner walls untouched feels as sweet as it tasted on your tongue and helps ease the ache inside your cunt. Still joined together and slick with stickiness, he collapses onto his side and gently assists you with rolling over so you can face him.

"Hey, you."

"Hello there yourself, lovely mayfly."

Your nose wrinkles but gets smoothed out by feather tips playing with the ends of your hair. Seokmin smiles as you snuggle closer into his chest so two of his wings can cocoon around you as the heated fervor from prior activities cools.

"Did that help?"

"… Yes," he says though his tone wavers with hesitance.

You raise your chin and see the electric blue luster hasn't faded yet from his gaze. Sheepishly, the corner of his mouth raises and you shiver, feeling the swell of his cock stretch out your pussy. The bulge it creates brushes against Seokmin's abdomen and he twitches.

"Sorry, it's… I'm gonna be kinda insatiable now that I've had a taste…" He trails off, wings snapping behind him. Slowly, he pulls his hips away and you both hiss as his cock is dragged out.

"What are you —"

You're cut off by the animalistic glimmer in his gaze, catching the feral smirk that he attempts to hide by licking his palm. Quick as lightning, Seokmin fleetingly swipes the outer lips of your cunt and brings his fingers, tonguing at them. Body set aflame again, neither of your break eye contact as he moans headily.

"But not of this," he rasps.

Before you know it, you're staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on his ceiling with your mate between your legs. His wings trail along your calves, their flexible ends curling near your inner thighs, encouraging them to spread and stay open, pinning them in place.

"Oh, aren't you a beauty?"

He moans shamelessly at the sight of your messy, glistening pussy. You squirm at the ticklish sensation of his feathers and that smoldering, ravenous look. If only he knew what it was like to see him devour you with his mouth.

Delicious.

Just like the feeling of his tongue working its way inside and licking up the shared essence of your releases.

Your fingers weave between strands of hair as black as night, tugging lightly and accidentally snagging one of his ear feathers. He moans eagerly, and the vibration has you shuddering, already quickly nearing another mind-shattering orgasm. But you don't let him carry you there too fast, smooth brain muscles trying to form a question.

"How… long… how long do these cycles last?"

Seokmin presses a loving kiss to your twitching clit and blows, entranced by how you clench around nothing. Then he smirks, elongated teeth shining in the darkness like a predatory warning though you have nothing to fear.

"As much as you can handle but… we're really only just getting started, mayfly."

The motion light kicks on as Seungcheol shifts his boots in the direction of the unlit kitchen area. Junhui and Minghao's entrance awaken the rest of the lights and they frown at the makeshift bunker set up.

"What are you three doing in here?"

Seungkwan sleepily mumbles a curse word and next to him, Mingyu blearily rubs his eyes. A scattering of empty pudding cups and bottles lie around them as well as a disorganized array of poker cards.

"We're afraid to venture out of here."

Junhui shares a secretive look with his closest friend at Seungkwan's cryptic words. "Ah, so that's happened. Or happening."

"'Bout time y'all came 'round. Time for ya to pay up!"

"Pay up for what?"

"Compensation. 'M the one who got the closest to bein' right knowin' they'd fuck after confessin'."

"If anyone needs compensation, it's me for the mental damage of having to make one of my lovelies into an enhanced sex toy."

Seungcheol guffaws. "Ya didn't! Ya lil cheatin', schemin' scientist!"

Meanwhile, Mingyu looks mighty concerned. "Does that mean Seokmin has a dildo for an arm?!"

Minghao crosses his arms with a steely glare. "No."

"Oh good. I don't think I could look at him the same."

"I don't think any of us will ever look at him the same again."

Junhui eagerly rocks back and forth on his heels, hands stuffed in the deep pockets of his lab coat. "Do you think they discovered all the functions and benefits of it yet?"

"Should be our next bettin' round."

"No more bets. I don't care if it's half a double dollar to go in, I refuse to go through this again."

Mingyu elbows his raven-haired companion. "C'mon, your heart's warmed by this!"

"Warmed and consumed by the rage and fury of hellfire, yes."

Giggling, the tall man smiles widely and holds his hand out. "Alright, I win then!"

"Win what? Thought you didn't remember your bet."

Mingyu purses his lips. "Only because none of you took me seriously and joked with a bunch of gross innuendos when I said they'd find their home in one another!" He then sighs dreamily. "But if I'm right, we'll know by tomorrow morning."

"Who says it'll be tomorrow mornin'. Might take weeks. Months even, I reckon'."

"I'll kick you all out before it comes to that," Minghao threatens and runs a hand through the few strands of hair without a bead. He tosses a wad of money in front of Mingyu. "Never involve me in this again."

Despite all the grumbling, everyone has a sense of lightness in their hearts at the thought of their dear friends finally getting together. And the happiest of them all is Mingyu, who cheerily gathers his prized double dollars, dreaming of all the pudding he can buy.

A lone figure stands on the edge of the valley of the Melca Border. The Sea of Sand, aptly named, can change tide and turn vicious at any second. Their cloak billows in the sandy winds that whip around them, though even the steadfast hood can't hide the satisfied smile on their face.

"You did well," they commend and the name that falls from their lips is one some might consider lost to the sands of time.

"Saintess." Another figure materializes out of the sand gusts in response to the praise. "It is to be done as you said."

"Very well. Shall we go now?"

Whether it's the mysterious sands that swirl around and whisk them away or the lost technology cube that transports them, no one will ever know for no one ever saw them. Like ghosts, they disappear and find themselves outside the real ghost town — where it all began.

A toma croaks in the distance. Brave travelers dare cross the ruined wasteland and the saintess meditating atop one of the largest rocks hidden in the shadows opens her gray eyes tinted by lilac in the glow of the moons to observe. Despite all of her traveling, the white robes wrapped around her body remain in pristine condition.

She turns behind to look at the man standing over a scattering of stones, staring intently at one of them. With poise and purpose, she dusts off her clothes and strides over to him.

"Chan."

Brown eyes tear away from his own name carved into the headstone in front of him to look at the one who's said it aloud.

"Yes, Saintess?"

"Do you regret it?"

"No. Never."

"Good," she states, satisfied with his response. With a grand sweep of her hood to cover short, dark hair, she gestures to the east. "We will set up camp one more night before returning to the Saint in the morning before he speaks with our Master."

Chan mutely nods, following the saintess back into the desert where she confidently leads him to a cave that will shield them from the unpredictable nature of Gunsmoke's wastelands. He thinks of you, the girl he must keep safe and two brothers. One with wings as pure white despite his continual revelry with hate-filled darkness, the other bearing ones the complete opposite color of his twin — a wild card.

He reminisces over the Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood, the convent and all the orphans that lived there. Pondering Sister Meryl's role, who stands before him now as the revered Saintess, leader for the Eye of Joshua and second only to the Bishop of the cult named after himself. She moves curious little statues back and forth across the surface of a large flat rock and the young man can't help but ask her a question in the unnerving silence.

"Do you think this will work?"

Meryl smiles elusively, as always. She picks up the smallest one with a deliberate flourish, placing it on a blackened space close to the last row of alternating squares carved into the stone's surface.

"Have you ever played chess before?"

"No, what is it?"

"An Earthern board game. It is quite complicated." Gesturing to the piece she just moved, she continues. "This is a pawn, the weakest of all chess pieces."

Chan bristles. "But strength comes in numbers, no? There are eight of each color, surely the right side can find a way to win."

Unfazed by his agitation, the saintess nods placatingly. "With the right strategy, even a pawn may become a queen — the most powerful. Unpredictable." She points to a white figurine with a cross on top of it. "Enough to checkmate a king."

Entranced, Chan watches as she rearranges and repositions various pieces across the faux chessboard. Soon, the pawn that took on the mantle of a Black Queen captures the White King. His eyes roam what's left on the battlefield at the end of the match, pointing to one that looks like a tower.

"What's that one?"

"A rook. It best supports an allied pawn towards promotion from behind the scenes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "It's most powerful during the end of the game, as you can see."

Chan gulps, holding his breath for a moment, and clears his throat. "Then I'm ready."

"Wonderful," Meryl nods, "we'll depart for Master Dokyeom's stronghold in the morning. I'm sure Joshua, our dear Saint, will be… pleased upon our return."

"To the glory of the Black King's rise."

"And to the glory of our so-called queen."

Keep him safe, Chan thinks to himself as he settles on the ground. And yourself. One day we'll reunite in the most joyous of occasions…

He pulls out a faded wanted poster with the infamous outlaw worth sixty billion double dollars, donning a wishful smile before closing his eyes and murmuring, "I'd even bet this impossible amount on it."

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

[mangosrar]

never say never.

matt sturniolo x fem reader.

warnings: smut. angst idk????

an: not proof read. more parts coming soon 😛😛😛

"matt have you seen my car keys" she hollered at him as she scurried around the kitchen.

"where are you going?" he asked as he peaked his head aoundd the door.

"i have to go home" she tilted her head and watched as he walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his hands on the small of her back, pulling her close.

"you dont have to go home, just move in with me" he brought his face closer to hers as her hands fiddled with the buttons on his dress shirt that was now creased and exposing his chest.

"i cant matt you know this, i need my studio" she told him.

"ill build you a studio here, hell id build you a whole art gallery if it meant i got to live with you doll" he moved his face to her cheek and planted a soft kiss there.

7 months ago.

just as she was bending down to press a display sticker to one of the signs, she felt a hard slap to her ass, spinning around she was met with violet smirking, leaned back against nathan. the two of them looked picturesque together. she wore a shimmery champagne dress while he wore a black suit.

"you look great rue" violet gushed.

"thanks vee" she wore a white dress tonight. it was a little more showy than she wouldve liked, low cut and short, but she had bought it last minute and didnt have time to change her mind. violet loved it, of course, she lived for dressing sexy.

"you did all this rory?" nate asked. gesturing to the room around them as he spoke. the place was heaving, every single piece of art in there was either already sold, or bring inquired for, thr room was decorated 'diligently' as her boss byron described. never once had that man complimented her so she was taking whatever she could get.

"yeah, worked my little ass of and byron wont let me display one piece of my art in here" she huffed out a breath rolling her eyes.

"Douch bag knows yours would sell for more than hes ever made" violet uttered.

she didnt even get the chance to reply before one of the artists was tapping on her shoulder making her spin around. "someone would like to make an offer on one of my pieces downstairs."

"oh yes of course" she turned back around. "drink, mingle, have fun. ill find you guys in a bit"

after an hour of running up and down the stairs, about half the pieces were sold and the place was completely packed. the smell of liquor wafted through the air, mixing with the loud conversations.

"hey rory" voilet called from across the crowd. she gently made her way through the sea of people muttering soft 'excuse me's to everyone. when she finally made it to violet she had a wicked smile on her face that made her suspiciously squint her eyes.

"what?" she asked apprehensively.

"nate has a friend here that he wants you to meet. voilets words were saturated with intent, but rory couldnt place it. she tugged on her arm, walking them across the room.

she could see the back of nate, standing and talking to someone. as he turned to face them she saw who she was talking to.

the man was taller than nathan, and more built. his stare was intense. shockingly blue eyes and a strong stubbled jaw. he had dark hair that fanned out around his head perfectly. he wore a flawlessly tailored suit, designer by the looks of it. she could see tattoos peaking out from under his sleeves onto his hands, gripping a hilariously small looking glass.

"sorry to pull you away from your fun, but this is my childhood best friend, matthew sturniolo" nate reached over, patting his friend on the back. "matt this is aroura jovans" he introduced her by her full name, keeping it formal for the time being.

matt stared cooly down at her, extending his hand. "nice to meet you aroura"

despite hating the sound of her full name, hearing it on matts tongue made her swoon. she had never seen a man so handsome in her entire life.

finding her head, rory reached out, placing her hand over his, the size difference was stark and it made his cock jump. "nice to meet you too Matthew" she replied looking up at him. "you can call me rory"

he had picked up on the colour of her cheeks when they touched. this bookish little sweetheart was the last thing he expected to find when nate invited him here. to say he was intrigued was an understatement.

now.

he continued his trail of kissed down her neck. her hands came up to tug on his hair, earning a hum from matt.

"stay here with me" he muttered as he sucked dark circles into her skin. she sighed and leaned her head back, giving him better access. she wanted to give in so bad, she wanted to let him have his way with her right now.

"i cant matt, i have things to do" her chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace as she desperately tried to keep it together, but matts groping hands and his mouth were proving to be a real challenge.

"let me take care of you baby" and before she could even protest. he had hiked her up onto the kitchen counter and shoved his hand into her panties, his lip between his teeth, eyes watching her face intensely. his fingers traced up her folds making him let out a low groan as he left light circles on her clit, pulling a shaky whine from rorys mouth.

"look at that honey, youre soaked" she couldnt help but whine at his words. his fingers quickened and his touch became firmer, prompting her head to lull back as she gripped one hand on his shoulder and the other smacked down onto the counter behind her. her hips started rocking in rhythm with his hand. he knew just how to work her.

"it would be so mean of me to leave you like this doll" his voice was patronizing and cocky. matt once again brought his mouth to her neck and licked a stripe up her throat, pulling a lewd moan from her.

"dont stop matt ngh- pl-" and before she could even finish her sentence, he cut her off by yanking his hand away from her and plopping his fingers into his mouth.

she stared at him wide eyed, mouth hanging open and the feeling of her approaching high fizzling out.

matt gripped her hips and pulled her off the counter, standing her back on her own, now shaky legs before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out her keys. he placed them in her hand before pressing a firm kiss to her lips.

"have a great day baby ill see you for dinner" and with that he was off, sauntering back off into his office.

matt returning to a normal life once he met aroura never seemed like anything out of the ordinary, business was well, he was going to dinner parties, he had fake manners, all prepared for a complete disregard for his past life. he wondered if the straw would ever come and he would return to his late affairs, then again he wondered if that straw had already been pulled. he knew he couldnt hide from himself much longer. his biggest enemy was the man he saw in the mirror. he was filtered with anger and disgust for himself. each day, in and out, he knew what rory didnt. surely the truth would come out, it was just a matter of when. every time his phone rang and her face came up he was sure this was it, thinking of some excuse or lie he could tell before answering and of course each time he was wrong, after a few months of him fighting with himself he gave up. realising there was no way she would ever find out. but never say never.

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @soursturniolo @freshlovehacker @urmyslxt @kitaysworld @kvtie444 @mattsd0ll @flowerxbunnie @itsjennarose @lovingsturniolo @mattslolita @chrisenthusiast

also if i forgot u from my taglist or u wanna be added lmk!!!!

[nocasdatsgay]

From the Shadows, the Beast Will Rise CH. 7

Pairing: Azeris | Word Count: 2464 | Chapter Rating: T

Warnings: Canon Typical Mentions of Violence

Previous Chapter | Masterpost | Read on AO3

Fic Summary: Months after that one encounter, Eris receives demand for a response to his summons to visit the Night Court. He ends up with warning for the future and a certain shadowsinger back under his skin.

Chapter Summary: Shadow Intervention forces Az and Eris to confront each other.

A/N: Hi, So if you don’t follow my other posts or fics, I apologize for the lack of update on this. Life and the AO3 curse got me. That said for the new year I hope to keep this up and finish this fic. Also did I spell Koshei wrong? IDK lol

Tagging: @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe @thisblogisaboutabook @daycourtofficial @ninthcircleofprythian @acourtofladydeath @ysmtttty @pit-and-the-pen if i missed you or added you by accident let me know

Azriel had ignored the tugging of a rogue shadow all day. The others seemed agitated but not as much as the single one tugging on the straps of his leathers. It was a gentle, repetitive nudge. One that he could ignore as he went about his day in the depths of Hewn City. He’d been volunteering more and more to keep himself occupied. And there was no lack of work because Koschei was getting restless with Beron out of the way. 

Azriel spent the whole day with a nasty fae from the continent. He’d delivered a message for Vassa and Lucien struck him unconscious before he could leave. Then he brought him to the Night Court and Azriel brought him to the bowels of the city. Not much was learned. By the time Azriel was done with him not much was left either. 

“The bond chafing that bad, brother?” Rhys looked over the body, scowling. 

“You know how it feels. You tell me,” Az grunted in reply, wiping his hands despite having washed them three times already. 

Rhys snapped his fingers, the body disappearing. There was an immediate sound of the beasts below thrashing about in the water, hissing and snapping. It had been a while since they had a treat of fae flesh. 

“Still no word?” Azriel knew who he meant and shook his head. Rhys relaxed his shoulders. “Maybe you should go speak to him. Request an audience.” 

Azriel scoffed. “He doesn’t want to see me.” 

“You don’t know that-“ 

“I think I do.” Az cut him off. He hated the pity he saw in those violet eyes. Az added. “He’s still establishing himself. It takes time.” 

Inside the bond squirmed. Like it knew Azriel was making up bullshit. Rhys didn’t call him out on it. 

“He’s sent out correspondence since he’s been High Lord.” Then Rhys got a gleam in his eye Az didn’t like. “Write to him about this new development. He is our ally.”

“You’re high lord-“

“And I am busy. I have a date with the high lady.” Rhys smirked. “First real one since Nyx was born. You wouldn’t want me to cancel that to waste time writing letters on information you have, right?” 

Az made a vulgar Illyrian gesture, causing Rhys to throw his head back laughing. 

“Your sacrifice is appreciated, Azriel.” Rhys said before winnowing away. 

Azriel didn’t know if he wanted to thank or punch his brother in the face. Wearily Azriel winnowed to the House of Wind, wings outstretched to catch himself so he could land. Nesta and Cassian weren’t home; both stationed in Illyria after a joint decision with Rhys and Feyre to keep the armies on call. Without Nesta, the house felt dormant. The only indication of it still being alive was the plate of hot food waiting for him in the kitchen.

He almost didn’t take it. 

Resigned, he sat down at the table and forced himself to eat. It was a mindless action- one to replenish the energy he expended in the dungeons. He scarfed it down quickly, mentally preparing for the letter he was going to have to send for Rhys. He still was dreading it when he dropped the empty plate into the sink and made his way to his room. 

Come. A shadow curled around his ear. Another tugged his wirst. 

What are you doing? He tried to stop but more shadows pushed him forward. 

Now he was curious. He entered his room and the shadows scattered. Glancing around nothing seemed different or out of place. The shadow on his wrist tugged him forward. He stopped at his desk. Under the fae light lamp was an envelope he hadn’t seen before. Shadows pushed him to his chair to make him sit. 

“Okay, okay,” he said aloud. 

Read. The shadows hissed and dragging his hand over to an envelope. 

He picked it up. The smell hit him first, making his stomach twist. It smelled like him. There was no writing on the envelope, but when he flipped it over a shock went through him and the bond in his chest tightened. It was an Autumn Court seal- Eris’s seal. He suddenly felt nervous. 

Open shadows whispered. With shaky hands he pulled open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. 

Azriel

If you’re reading this, you are a better male than myself. I would not wish to speak to someone who denied a bond such as ours. Nonetheless, I apologize for the lack of correspondence. There are obvious reasons, as I’m sure you know, for why I have not been able to formally reach out to you. I am (Azriel noted that ink gathered in a large dot next to the m) sorry, for how I reacted. It’s not everyday you find you have a mating bond with someone who’d skewer you with their knife at any given chance. 

Azriel winced. A shadow curled around his ear. Read. More. With a sigh he continued. 

And it pains me. It pains me that it lay dormant for so long. It pains me that centuries have gone on and I thought the pull to you was a weakness I had to overcome. That the history between us is full of sins I cannot atone for. For that I am content to let it remain as it is, as much as I wished this would work. I do not deserve this sacred link between us but I will never reject it. Despite what you think of me I am not that cruel. Maybe in another life we could try again. I know it isn’t what you want. That I am not what you want.

And yet everyday I am filled with a longing for your presence that all but suffocates me. I dream of what could be if we were different fae. If I had not been a coward centuries ago. It enrages me at times. How the Mother could be so cruel and me so unworthy of my destined half. I dream of another life with you often. So much it’s pathetic-

Azriel stopped reading, and tried to not ball up the letter as realization set in. Eris wants the bond. It played in his mind over and over as shadows whirled around him, whispering things he couldn’t focus on. His wings flared out. The bond in his chest felt heavier than it had in weeks. Urgency rose in him as his thoughts went frantic. 

He needed to see him. 

He needed to tell him. 

We will take you. Shadows startled him with how loudly they spoke. We will see our mate. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eris let himself fall back onto his bed, hoping the tonic would start working. His head was pounded- Edith said he needed rest but what rest was there to be had? He’d yet to make his rounds as new High Lord through Autumn. Untangling his father’s previous treaties and laws was proving to be a more daunting task than he anticipated. 

He rubbed his forehead and he smelt it, the air shifting. Crisp evergreens. Azriel. 

Eris sat up. Out of the darkness in the corner of the room Azriel stepped forward like an angel of old. No words left Eris’s mouth, just the bond aching in his chest and Azriel approached him. He didn’t speak as he pulled Eris forward, those blessed hands threading his hair and pulling Eris up into a kiss. The way his body relaxed in Azriel’s hold and the sigh he made as he kissed him back was unlike him. The bond in his chest flared and squirmed, wanting. Eris wanted to lay back and pulled Azriel down with him. Instead he forced himself to pull away. 

“What are you doing here,” Eris panted out his breaths, trying to get a hold of himself. 

Azriel did not move back, hands gripping the lapels of his jacket. “I got your letter.” 

Like cold water tossed on to him, Eris recoiled and his mood dampened. “What letter?”

“It had your seal- Eris,” Eris swallowed hard at the sound of his name on Azriel’s lips and the way his hazel eyes were frantically searching his own. “I want the bond too. I want this. I want you. I don’t care what I have to do- we can make it work-“ 

He shook his head. “You weren’t supposed to get that letter.” 

Az stiffened and frowned. “What?” 

“I wasn’t going to send it. I don’t understand how you got it.” As if taunting him a shadow appeared, poking over his master’s wings. Eris glared at it. 

“But you meant it, right?”

Eris looked back and hazel eyes were practically begging. Azriel wasn’t supposed to see that letter. No one was supposed to see that letter. The things Eris said were never meant to see the light of day. He wanted to lash out- to lie. His tongue was tied; he couldn’t make himself hurt Az. 

“Yes. I did.”

Eris never felt so vulnerable in his life. Relief washed over Azriel’s face and by the gods he’d never looked more handsome. One of those hands reached up and cradled up around his cheek and neck. Eris reached up and grabbed that leather wrapped arm like his life depended on it. 

“I told them about the bond.” Az whispered, eyes lined with a sliver of tears waiting to spill over. He didn’t need to elaborate who them were. 

“And?” 

“Mor is angry.” 

There was a hint of sadness in Azriel’s tone. It felt like it squeezed the bond in Eris’s chest. 

“Of course she is, I do not blame her.” And he meant it. 

“Nesta was…” Azriel shifted his gaze. “Concerningly pleased when I told her.” Eris raised a brow. “She all but said it was hot.” 

Eris let out a laugh- the first one since the mother knows when. Azriel snorted which made Eris laugh harder. By the time they caught their breaths, Azriel had his forehead pressed against Eris’s.

“How did we get here?” Eris murmured. More to himself than to Az. 

“Only the Mother knows,” Az replied. 

When he stepped back, Eris damn near whined. He hated how much he wanted to keep Azriel close. Azriel cleared his throat while Eris just studied him. 

“I was supposed to write to you actually. There’s been a development with Koshei.” 

Just like that Eris shoved down his feelings. “Right. Lucien mentioned he took a fae to the Night Court.  I assume you were the one who interrogated him?” 

Azriel seemed tense when he replied. “Yes. Didn’t offer much. Only that he was hired by someone on the continent. We think someone in Rask may be behind it.”

Eris stood from his bed and paced. “Lucien said the message was that someone would come for her soon. I sent some men to their home to stand guard.” He paused for a moment, wondering if he should volunteer the other piece of information he had. 

“What are you thinking?” Azriel asked after a moment. 

“It’s nothing.” He replied quickly. 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” his gaze narrowed and he crossed his arms. 

Eris scoffed. “And how would you know? Have your shadows whisper to you?” 

“Not even five minutes and your defenses are up.” Az shook his head. “I don’t know what I expected from you.” 

“I don’t either. You are the spymaster of another court. Just because we have a bond doesn’t negate that.” Eris could feel the heat rise- from anger or hurt he didn’t know. He did his best to taper it down. 

“And I have already talked to Rhys and Feyre about that.” Azriel shoved at his leathers on his shoulder, pushing them aside to reveal a tattooed rune. “I made a bargain.” 

He scowled, his eyes lingering on the rune. “Why? Did they make you bargain?” 

“I offered.” Azriel dropped his hand, the leather sliding back in place. 

“Have you lost your senses?” Eris hissed. “Why would you offer a bargain if they didn’t make you?”

“If I choose to pursue the bond between us, I will be relieved from my duties as their spymaster.” There was a hurt in his eyes that twisted Eris’ gut more than a knife. 

“In exchange for?” 

“I keep their secrets.” 

“Just secrets?” Eris could feel his temperature and the room’s temperature rise again as his anger flared. “That’s a broad statement, Azriel. Are you really that daft to place yourself in such a dangerous position? Secrets could be a surprise birthday party for the heir. One slip of the tongue and my mate is dead.” 

“Their court secrets, Eris. I’m not an idiot.” Azriel’s wings spread out behind him. “That’s not the point. That isn’t even why I’m here. I just-“ 

He felt the longing in the bond before Azriel shut it out. That instantly cooled his temper. 

“I’ll tell you. But you will not like it.” Eris sighed. “Trust is hard when you spend half a millenia without it. We get through whatever is coming, then we talk seriously about the bond.” 

Az relaxed his wings and nodded.

Eris continued. “Considering you’re here, that means Lucien didn’t tell you he spoke with Vassa about the conditions of her release.” Azriel’s gaze narrowed, shadows coming out to peer at him. “He thinks Mr. Archeron offered something he couldn’t give. Vassa was tight lipped but he seems to think he gave one of his daughters as a bargaining piece.”

“What?” Siphons flashed on Az’s chest and hands. 

“He has no proof. It was a snide remark from the firebird herself that peaked his interest. Something about Archeron’s daughters not being human anymore and it changing things.” 

Azriel balled his fists. “And sure of this?”

“I wouldn’t tell you if I wasn’t. Consider this me trusting you.” Eris needed a drink, the headache already returning. “Tell Rhysand to keep an eye on the other sisters. I doubt Feyre is in any danger.”

Az nodded. “Thank you for telling me. Nesta is with Cassian and can handle herself. I’ll ensure Elain is kept an eye on.” 

“Keeping an eye on a seer sounds redundant.” He said, more to himself than Azriel. 

“Funny,” Az rolled his eyes. “I’ll send word if something changes.” 

“I’ll do the same.” 

Az left in a whirl of shadows. Despite them parting on serious terms, Eris felt a sense of ease he hadn’t had since becoming high lord. Azriel wanted the bond too. He wouldn’t admit it to himself but whatever happened with Koshei, that knowledge alone would keep him going. At least he thought it would, until not even hours later a letter landed on his desk from Lucien just as shadows whirled in his study. 

“She’s gone,” Az said frantically as the shadows parted. “Elain is gone.”  

Next Chapter

[sohelish]

@algrimthestrong  from here:

"What do you call a reindeer ghost? A cari-boo!"

Over the course of their travels, Helena’s intellect had proven a force to be reckoned with. To Algrim, her cleverness was both a blessing and a curse, for just as often as the woman’s wit and charm had saved them from peril her sharp tongue had landed their party in trouble. Still, when it came to choosing between Hel and Per, Algrim much preferred her sarcasm to the childish humour of the dwarf.

With Per being absent for the moment in search of what he had claimed was an ancient portal created by his ancestors – which he had boasted would hasten their journey – in the very woods they were currently camped in, Algrim and Hel were alone in their camp, watching the slow roasting of a deer the three of them had hunted for dinner. The fire crackled and hissed, the flames painting dancing shadows on Algrim’s weary visage where he sat on a fallen log, bundled up tight in his cloak to shut out the night’s chill. The past months had taught him that life on the road no longer suited him. Though he would never admit it, he found himself wishing for the comforts of the palace, the constant push and pull between his two companions jangling his nerves in ways not even the king of Svartalfheim did.

Hel’s attempt to fill the silence between them with a jest met with little appreciation. Algrim looked up at the grinning blonde. His tone was as dry as the burning wood as he gave his reply. “Well, then let us hope that this one here—” he nodded at the roasting carcass, “—will not come back to haunt us.”

'Hmm.'

Not having elicited the necessary reaction, Hel leaned closer towards the flames. Her hum was a bit lost to the constant crackling sounds.

'Weird,' she said quietly, in a voice suddenly devoid of any cheerfulness.

There was a certain evenness to her that appeared rarely. Her eyes were cold and sharp, no trace of mischievousness left.

'There, I think I'd have liked that.'

It almost seemed she was dreaming of something, but likely she'd been analysing things in her mind.

Maybe the reaction was what she wanted exactly.

Or perhaps in seconds, she'd learned to want the reaction that she'd gotten.

'To be haunted, I mean. By anything at all. Being haunted has its thrills.'

As if the woods weren't dangerous enough.

She poked at the meat, checking if it was cooked through or not.

Per could've gotten lost for all she cared. While Algrim grew exhausted of his humour, their female companion had long started blatantly ignoring most of the Dwarven presence. His usefulness to her was simply dissipating as time passed by.

A heavy sigh escaped her, and then...

'Зачем безвременную скуку Зловещей думою питать, И неизбежную разлуку В унынье робком ожидать?'

When Helena started reciting the poem, she'd been glancing up at the night sky, but by the end of it, her eyes fixed firmly on Algrim. The way he sat there, looking cold and tired. He must've thought she didn't notice, but she did.

'You do realise that you're allowed to say it out loud, right?'

The woman moved around the fire to the side of the log. So that she could stand slightly behind him.

'That my jokes suck? I'm not in the habit of being offended by opinions. Or much anything for that matter.'

She placed her hands on her hips.

'What is it with you? You think if you slip and be impolite for once, the whole galaxy will come crashing on our heads?'

[goodlucktai]

give me something that’ll haunt me when you’re not around

chapter three: me and you and the whole town underwater

rise of the tmnt pairing: leoichi (leonardo / usagi yuichi) word count: 3k title borrowed from dark blue by jack’s mannequin post-movie

(previous) (next)

read on ao3

x

Usagi: Good morning Leonardo. Unknown: USAGI Unknown: there are so many snacks in here oh my god Unknown: what the hell 😭😭😭😭 Unknown: im heavily medicated its not fair to do nic ethings ill cry Unknown: tell ur aunt i said THANK YOU!!!!!!! and the blueberry buckle was SO GOOD😭😭 Unknown: i shared some w mikey and he wants the recipe like yesterday Unknown: we actually ate like. all of it in one sitting. raph was pissed lol

Yuichi lays in bed smiling at his phone for a while before he gets around to pulling his braincells together to form a reply.

He starts and stops typing so many times that it’s embarrassing. He’ll pretend he didn’t do that.

Usagi: Those snacks were specifically meant to aid in your recovery. Unknown: so idk how familiar u are w baby brothers but typically mike gets whatever he wants

Yuichi thinks of his youngest cousin Jomei. Tiny and soft, with huge gray eyes, and unfortunately already self-aware at four years old. If Mike—Michelangelo, Yuichi thinks he remembers the boy being called—is even half as powerful as Jomei, then Leonardo’s blueberry buckle didn’t stand a chance.

Usagi: Fair enough.

It’s a good thing he woke up early. He doesn’t get anything else done for hours. Leonardo is an enthusiastic conversation partner at all times, and his texts manage to translate that energy effortlessly.  

Typically, Yuichi lets his friends save their contact IDs in his phone however they want. Leonardo isn’t there to do it himself, but Yuichi makes the rookie mistake of giving him free reign anyway. So Leonardo insists his number go in under ⚡️⚡️NEON LEON⚡️⚡️ and Yuichi has something to roll his eyes at every time they message each other.

It also makes him feel warm. There’s an affectionate little tug in his chest at this clear proof of Leonardo in his hands.

Now that he has this unfettered access to the very same person he wants to talk to all the time, Yuichi checks his phone a lot more than he used to over the next couple days. He even keeps it in his waist apron pocket at work, which some of the other servers do, which technically isn’t against the rules because none of them have abused the privilege so far.

Yuichi will feel extremely bad and guilty if he’s the one who abuses the privilege and ruins it for everyone. But when it vibrates in his pocket while he’s going outside to dump the trash anyway, he might as well linger for an extra minute and check his messages, right? Right??

Once, Señor Hueso catches Yuichi lingering in the employee lounge after his lunch break is well over, moving at a snail’s pace back toward the dining room with his nose buried in his phone. He almost walks right into his boss’s chest, saved only by the last-minute sense of someone else’s immediate presence that Karasu-Tengu-sensei mercilessly trained into him years ago. So he freezes a few inches away instead and his eyes dart up to the skeleton yokai’s unamused expression.

Oh boy. Señor Hueso is generally a very patient person but he’s no-nonsense about work. Is Yuichi in trouble? Is he going to get fired?

“I’msosorry,” Yuichi whispers.

But instead of scolding him, Señor Hueso only gives a pointed look to the phone in Yuichi’s hands and says sternly, “You tell Pepino to give it a rest. He’s still recovering from a concussion, he doesn’t need to be staring at a screen all day, madre de dios. Please be a good influence.”

“You don’t know I was talking to Leonardo,” Yuichi says defensively. He has other friends he could be texting! Then he takes a second look at the older yokai’s face and backtracks immediately. “I mean. Uh. Yes, sir. I’ll tell him.”

“Good. Now you have tables seated in your section.”

It’s a dismissal if Usagi’s ever heard one, so he scurries into the dining room with five times his original speed, sending one last message before he shoves his phone away.

Usagi: Señor says no more screen time while you’re recovering from a concussion. ⚡️⚡️NEON LEON⚡️⚡️: what?? how even??? ⚡️⚡️NEON LEON⚡️⚡️: he doesn’t KNOW ur taking to me

Thank you, that’s exactly what Yuichi said!

He makes it a point to actually focus for the rest of his shift, but it’s a Wednesday afternoon, and things are slow. Sunita is off for the day, and Qiao is studying at the bar when they’re not actively pouring drinks, and those are the only two coworkers Yuichi is familiar enough to strike up conversation with, so he keeps to his own section and works quietly.

It’s been brought up a couple of times now, in passing—Leonardo’s condition. Apparently, even a month after the invasion, he’s still healing. Yuichi didn’t know the symptoms of a concussion could last whole weeks. He doesn’t really know much about kappa, or whatever manner of creature Leonardo and his brothers are, but for a head injury to be that severe…

Suddenly, the sight of Raphael’s damaged eye jumps to the front of Yuichi’s memory. The clean hole in the big turtle’s rock-solid carapace. What the hell could have done that? What happened to them?

His brain is coming up with nightmare fuel like that’s its job. Something horrible went down behind-the-scenes while Yuichi was completely ignorant—while Yuichi was waiting tables and getting into trouble with Kitsune and Gen and helping with the tomato harvest, Leonardo and his family were in almost certain danger. And Yuichi didn’t know.

He plops down on a stool at the bar at the tail end of his last break for the day, and Qiao wordlessly slides him a cranberry juice on the rocks.

“How do I get my friend to tell me about something that may or may not be a sensitive subject?” he blurts.

“Have you tried asking him about it?” the ram yokai replies in a tone that manages to be both over-exaggerated and monotone.

Yuichi doesn’t even know why he bothers. He taps his phone on the counter a few times, takes a big gulp of cranberry juice that he pretends is something much stronger, then goes for it.

Usagi: I need to talk to you. ⚡️⚡️NEON LEON⚡️⚡️: oooooo ominous Usagi: It’s not ominous, weirdo. I have to go now but I’m off at 7.

Any normal person would have taken that last text at face-value, but Yuichi isn’t dealing with a normal person, is he?

So maybe he should have been expecting it when he leaves the restaurant a few hours later and finds Leonardo waiting for him outside. He's leaning heavily on one of his katana, either in an attempt to look cool or because he’s having trouble staying upright.

Yuichi is not inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he blurts. His flat tone definitely does not convey his shock, but he’s feeling too much right now to articulate any of it properly.

Leonardo laughs out loud. It’s a different sound than it used to be—hoarse and a little restrained, like he’s trying to remember he doesn’t have to be quiet. But it’s still bright, and it still makes Yuichi’s heart do backflips in his chest.

He’s wearing a hooded sweatshirt that looks way too big to belong to him, a deep maroon color, repaired with clumsy pink stitches along the shoulders. One of the sleeves is hiked up to Leonardo’s elbow, due to the unwieldy cast on his left forearm, covered in doodles and stickers. The hoodie is unzipped down the front, so Yuichi can make out the cracks in Leonardo’s plastron, spiderweb lines cutting cruelly through the armored scutes. It’s hard to imagine the kind of pressure it would have taken to crush his shell—the same kind that drilled that hole through Raphael’s? What happened to them?

The skin around Leonardo’s neck and the side of his face is still discolored from what must have been pretty nasty bruises, and there are puffy red marks where scars haven’t settled yet. He looks older than the last time Yuichi saw him.

But he’s here. And he’s smiling, a footprint of that laughter left on his face. And now he’s—oh boy, now he’s starting to list to the side.

Yuichi crosses the distance between them at a run, catching Leonardo by the arm before he can topple all the way over.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Yuichi says waspishly, afraid to let him go.

“You wouldn’t,” Leonardo says cheerfully. He’s leaning heavily against Yuichi’s shoulder, his hand is shaking as he sheathes his katana over his shoulder, seriously, what the fuck is he doing here? “Everyone’s cussed me out at least once since I woke up. Add you to the list.”

Flustered, Yuichi says, “I did not do that.”

“You did! You said the fuck word!”

Yuichi rolls his eyes and begins the process of dragging Leonardo toward the nearest bench, staring down anyone who drifts into their path. The tree yokai already reclining there takes one look at Yuichi’s expression, grabs her bag, and takes off without a word.

Maybe he’ll feel bad about being impolite later. He doesn’t have any room for it in his brain right now. He doesn’t even think he remembers to breathe until Leonardo is safely sitting down, slumping onto the bench seat like someone five times his age.

Yuichi crouches down in front of him, giving him a hard look. If he needs medical attention, Yuichi will kick Run of the Mill’s doors down and drag Señor Hueso out here by his tie. Who needs a part-time job anyway?

But Leonardo seems to be okay now that he’s caught his breath, and he’s still grinning, like Yuichi is the best thing he’s seen in days.

“Do you use your scary face to get what you want all the time, or is this a special occasion?” the turtle asks coyly.

“I am beginning to understand why everyone has cussed you out since you woke up this morning,” Yuichi replies, sitting back on his heels.

Something tight that’s been clenched in his chest like a closed fist has suddenly loosened, a letting go when Yuichi didn’t even know he’d been holding on.

He’s missed Leonardo. Being around him has always been easy, even when looking directly at him is like staring into the sun, even when Yuichi’s words get lost somewhere between his head and his throat and he ends up spending most of their conversations just listening and watching.

“Not since this morning,” Leonardo interjects. “Can you imagine everyone getting on my case like that all in one day? That would just be bullying. I meant since the coma.”

There it is again. Little breadcrumbs, teasing scraps of information.

Yuichi gazes up at him, and has at least a dozen questions he wants to ask. That’s why Leonardo is here, even if he doesn’t realize it. Yuichi’s curiosity inadvertently dragged his friend from the safety of his home and the safe harbor of his family to the chaotic streets of the Hidden City.

The trip itself seems to have been hard on him, when usually it’s little-to-no-effort to step through a portal between one location and the next. His forehead gleams with sweat, and he’s still breathing a little heavily, like he just ran a marathon. He’s a pale shade of the vibrant boy Yuichi first met a year ago. He looks like he regrets bringing up the coma.

But he’s still here.

Abruptly, Yuichi doesn’t want to ask any of his questions. He just wants his friend to be here.

When Leonardo says, “Sooo, what’s so serious you dragged me all the way out here?” Yuichi pushes himself to his feet and takes the seat on the bench beside him with a theatrical sigh.

“Nothing, Leonardo,” he lies. “I just wanted to talk to you. You’re the one who jumped to conclusions.”

Some tense line in Leonardo’s shoulders that Yuichi hadn’t noticed before seems to go lax, even as he rolls his eyes. “I’m a ninja, we jump, it’s a whole thing. Anyway, more importantly, did I see a stall selling dumplings down the street or nah?”

“There’s no way I can convince you to stay on this bench, is there?” Yuichi knows the answer already and he’s getting up before Leonardo has a chance to say anything, offering him his hands. When Leonardo takes them, Yuichi hauls him up onto his feet.

They stand there together for a moment, neither of them letting go. Yuichi doesn’t even feel the usual need to spring away from him before he gets too close because he’s missed this stupid guy. And his stupid face, and his stupid big hands, and the stupid way Yuichi feels around him.

Whatever happened to him, happened. Yuichi can’t change that now. And if Leonardo wants to tell him about it, he will. But Yuichi gets the feeling that what Leonardo really wants right now is to feel normal. To feel like maybe one thing in his life is the same as it’s always been.

“Dumplings,” Yuichi announces, with all the enthusiasm of his little cousins faced with the unjust trial of bedtime. “If you fall on your face, I’m leaving you there.”

“If I don’t, you’re buying,” Leonardo quips back.

Yuichi scowls, remembers he’s still holding Leonardo’s hands, and then sort of forgets how to person for long enough that Leonardo lets go and goes a few steps without him. His brain literally goes offline for a minute. That’s never happened before.

“No it’s okay,” he hears Leonardo saying to someone on the street nearby. “It’s not his fault, he’s never been the same, you know, not since the storm.”

Fur bristling, Yuichi hustles to catch up, hopefully before Leonardo has done any actual lasting damage to his reputation. He has an image to maintain around here! He’s Usagi Miyamoto’s direct descendant, and Miyamoto was never anything but cool!

“Quit making up lore about me!” he hisses.

“Quit being weird!” Leonardo replies, clearly enjoying himself. “Dumplings!”

Yuichi scowls but falls into step beside him anyway. This is the guy he missed so much?

As soon as he has that uncharitable thought, he regrets it.

He thinks about April saying he always seemed pissed off to have Leonardo around, and darts a quick look at the striped turtle ambling along beside him. Leonardo doesn’t seem put off by Yuichi’s prickly attitude, but still—it wouldn’t hurt to make sure.

Yuichi waits until they’ve paid the elderly yokai woman running the food stall for two paper plates of crispy gyoza, so he has something to do with his hands, something to focus on besides his awkward tongue, to say, “I’m glad you’re back.”

Leonardo glances sidelong at him, crunching through a dumpling unselfconsciously. His mouth is full but his expression very clearly says ‘say what now?’

“Here, I mean,” Yuichi tells his plate. “Back here. I didn’t even know you were—I’m just glad you’re better.”

They walk the length of the block before Leonardo replies.

“I wouldn’t worry about us, Usagi. Me and my brothers can take a hit. You could even say we were made for it.” That’s a strange sentiment, and something bitter comes and goes across Leonardo’s face before Yuichi can make sense of it, as swift and darting as the little minnows that flit through the creek that winds past his family’s farm. Then Leonardo adds, sounding much more like himself, “My stupid arm is all that’s slowing me down now.”

“Considering it was broken in eight places, I would take six weeks in a cast as a solid win,” someone says from directly behind them.

Yuichi doesn’t jump in shock, he freezes, rabbit-still. Leonardo doesn’t seem surprised at all—he just groans theatrically.

“Oh nooo, it’s the consequences of my actions.”

Donatello snorts. Because that’s who it is, Yuichi realizes as he turns to get a good look at him.

“You can’t just run off, Nardo,” the purple-masked turtle says. His tone implies that this is not a suggestion. “You get why that’s uncool and unfair, right? Like, I don’t have to explain that very simple, elementary-level concept to you?”

“I left a note,” Leonardo argues in his own defense.

“You sure did,” Donatello replies, so level and calm that it sets Yuichi’s whiskers on edge, because that level calmness is very much a thinly veiled promise of bodily harm. “You left a note on your door that said “Do Not Disturb, Beauty Sleep in Progress.” And then you left one on your empty bed that you just drew a winky face on.”

“I realized I didn’t need any more beauty sleep, Dontron. I decided to save some for the rest of you sad scrubs. You’re welcome.”

“How magnanimous.”

Beyond the color-coded masks and the dramatically different body shapes and skin tones, there’s another easy way to tell the Hamato siblings apart; all of them have brown eyes in varying shades. Michelangelo’s are warm, tempered honey, while Raphael’s are darker and richer, edging into red.

Leonardo and Donatello, the twins, have identical golden eyes, piercing and impossibly bright even in the semi-dark of falling dusk. Under the warm lantern light, with their defining characteristics all but overshadowed, it would probably be easy to mistake them for a perfect mirror of each other.

But Yuichi could never make that mistake. Donatello’s eyes are different, because the way he looks at Yuichi is different.

Especially now. Where Leonardo was delighted to see Yuichi for the first time since before the invasion, Donatello is looking at Yuichi like he’s a clear and present threat.

Yuichi doesn’t know what Donatello has to feel threatened about. He has a good grasp of his own abilities and he’s self-aware enough to admit that Donatello could definitely take him in a fair fight. Any of his siblings probably could, up to and including his sister, out of stubbornness and spite alone. Yuichi is the one who feels hunted, like a tiny fluffy animal that was just sighted by a bored, hungry hawk, all because of the cold, calculating gold in Donatello’s eyes.

Then Leonardo plants his good hand on the side of his twin’s face and shoves it an arm’s length away. Donatello sputters and flails, and Leonardo talks over him with the ease of years of practice.

“Thanks for the dumplings,” Leonardo tells him. “See you when I’m finally un-grounded, someday seven years from now.”

Yuichi nods, offering a little wave. He watches Leonardo unsheathe a katana and form a bright, spinning blue portal with one swift downward slice through the air. Donatello is griping at him in harsh undertones, and Leonardo is giving back as good as he gets, but it doesn’t escape Yuichi that Donatello has gravitated protectively to Leonardo’s bad side, and Leonardo is leaning his weight against his brother like he’s actually much more tired than he was willing to let on.

Leonardo needs a break. He needs fresh air. He needs to—to not disappear again, even if it probably won’t actually be for seven years.

Before he can second-guess himself, Yuichi blurts, “I’m off on Friday! You should come to the farm. One of our tokage’s nestlings just hatched so we have babies to play with and they’re really cute!”

Donatello makes an antagonistic noise under his breath and hauls Leonardo through the portal. Before he disappears, Yuichi watches Leonardo’s whole body light up, a grin splitting his face in half.

“It’s a date!” Leonardo calls cheerfully in the seconds before he’s gone.

The portal closes. Yuichi stares at the empty space where it used to exist while the word “date” bounces around in his head like a free-floating balloon filled with screaming instead of the more traditional helium.

Usagi: Important time-sensitive HYPOTHETICAL question Usagi: When you make plans with your friend and he calls it a date, how do you ask what he means by that without sounding like an insane person?? SUNA: oh my god!!!!!! ꒰☉ｪ☉꒱

[aiiwa]

BETWEEN YOUR THIGHS ― IWAIZUMI, KUROO, BOKUTO, AND SUGAWARA.

✗ REQUEST: i’ve been seeing all over tiktok the whole lay between your s/o thighs trend (idk if you know the trend) but i wanted to see it with the hq boys. so could i request iwa, kuroo, bo and suga🥺.

― iwaizumi hajime, kuroo tetsurou, bokuto koutarou, sugawara koushi.

⤷ genre: fluff

⤷ warnings: suggestive content (everything i write at this point is suggestive lmao), i got lazy proof reading this but i’ll come back to it

⤷ word count: 3.1k

― a/n: i was very soft writing this hehe, also;

me to me: let’s limit this to 500 words per character

also me: almost writes 1k just on kuroo.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

after two long weeks apart, with iwa having to travel overseas for work, he had finally come back home to you. work trips weren’t uncommon, but often left you alone, missing him more and more with each day apart.

it took everything in your power to hold yourself back from jumping on him, the moment you caught sight of his bulky figure walking out of the airport terminal.

and now the two of you were on your way home. after bickering over who would drive, iwa now sat leaned back in the driver’s seat, large hand engulfing yours on your lap and the other gripping the leather steering wheel; skillfully maneuvering your car down the snowy streets. fiddling with his long fingers entwined between your own, you bring his hand up to your mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.

glancing at you from the corner of his olive eyes, you could see his soft smile under the flickering glow of the streetlights. he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, before his focus turns back to the road.

ten minutes pass relatively quickly, with iwa shifting the gear into park outside your shared home. he trails close behind you, warm breath tickling the side of your neck and duffle bag slung over his wide shoulder, as you unlock the front door.

“welcome home.” you whisper, tilting your face up to look at him.

iwa’s quick to drop his bag, spinning you around by your hips to pull you flush against him. wrapping your arms around his neck, you giggle at the feeling of his hands dipping lower to give your ass a loving squeeze.

“i missed you, baby.” he breathes out, before leaning down to capture your lips.

the kiss is sweet and slow, you indulge yourself in the familiar feeling of his soft lips; before his tongue darts out to trace against the pout of your bottom lip, asking for permission. you moan into him as your tongues brush against each other sensually, dragging your hand from his nape to caress his jaw; you jolt away as your palm brushes against the icy cold touch of his ear.

“haji! your ears are freezing!” you hiss, both hands now tugging at his ears.

chuckling lowly, he grabs at your wrists lightly. “ah, i know...why don’t you warm them up for me?”

“huh?”

overwhelming thoughts of how exactly iwa intended for you to warm his ears up, clouded your flustered mind. in a flurry of movements, he lead you into your bedroom; freeing you from the tight denim of your high-waisted pants, and having you perched up and leaning against your fluffed up pillows. the fuzziness in your head starts to clear up at the sight of iwa stripping off his long sleeved shirt, exposing the toned muscle of his stomach and chest.

crawling towards you and parting your legs, he presses a kiss to the inner side of your knee, before he flips over and slides his read right between your legs. you blink once, then twice, watching as he grabs your thighs, wrapping them around his neck and squishing his face.

“well, this...isn’t exactly what i was expecting.” rubbing your thighs against his ears to get used to the freezing touch.

iwa hums contentedly, patting the side of your leg. “mmm, don’t worry baby, we’ll save that for a bit later okay?” heat rushes to your face as he calls you out on your thoughts. “i just wanna lay here and feel you like this for now.” you push your hands against your face, feeling how warm your cheeks are, before iwa grabs at your wrists softly, bringing them over to kiss your palms. “just lie with me, okay baby?”

with your hands caressing the sides of his face, you nod, smiling softly. “okay, haji.”

KUROO TETSUROU

working together with kuroo for japan’s volleyball association was amazing. for the most part that is. it’s how the two of you met, he’d charmed you into a first date by his second week, and it was almost three years since then.

you spent every day with your boyfriend at work, and every night together in bed. but sharing a busy week schedule filled with back-to-back meetings, interviews with athletes for potential promotional videos, and late nights in the office filing the never-ending build up of paperwork - meant weekends were very much looked forward to.

lazy sundays being your favourite.

the day usually started well into noon, both of you enjoying the extra undisturbed hours of sleep - since the blare of kuroo’s six a.m. alarm wasn’t ringing in your ears. he’d greet you with a drowsy rasp - “good morning, shorty.” - making you giggle before dragging him to share a steaming hot shower with you; . and with a towel wrapped around your head, bare legs on show underneath the hem of your boyfriend’s large shirt, you’d sway in front of the stovetop flipping pancakes while a shirtless kuroo sliced up your favourite fruits - music from his playlist playing softly in the background.

if the weather allowed it, you and kuroo would sit out on the balcony of your apartment; basking in the warmth of the sun, admiring the way his hazel eyes reflected gold. yet this sunday, a storm was raging outside.

“why is she giving a rose to that prick yamato? fuji deserves it way more than him!” kuroo calls out.

you were only half invested in the bachelorette marathon playing. rain spat against the fogged glass; heavy lidded eyes followed the trails made by the racing raindrops. you were tucked snugly into kuroo’s side, a long arm wrapped around your shoulders, and legs tangled under the softness of the new periwinkle comforter you’d bought the other day. kuroo’s laptop rested on his lap, and you jostled about as he shot an arm out to point at the screen accusingly.

“are you seeing this, y/n?! now she’s choosing sachihiro! over fuji?!”

humming half-heartedly in response, you squeeze yourself closer to kuroo; dragging your hand over his bare chest, and resting it over his heart. you could feel his heartbeat against your palm, thump-thump thump-thump, and the steady rise and fall of his chest began to lull you to sleep.

the sound of your soft snores, pulled kuroo’s attention away from the show.

“shorty, you sleepin’?”

at your lack of reply, he chuckles lowly, shifting around to put away his laptop. you were always the first to fall back asleep, especially after eating good and coming back to bed to cuddle. pulling you closer to him, he smiled at the sigh you released against him; before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead and resting his cheek on his pillow. the smell of your strawberry shampoo wafting around him, was the last thing kuroo remembered before he joined you in the dream world.

laying on your side with half your vision obscured by the fluffy pillow under your head, you blink away the sleep as you gaze outside the window. the rain had come to a slow drizzle, with the skies still fairly bright meaning only an hour or so had passed while you were asleep.

“tetsu?” you call out.

usually the rooster head would be pressed right up against you, but you couldn’t feel or see him. attempting to twist your body around, you find your movements constricted. it was only when you tried once again to lift your leg up, that a hand slid around your knee to halt your movements.

pushing yourself up a bit, and resting on your elbow, you glance down to find your boyfriend’s head between your thighs, back of his head pushed against your pelvis. because the two of your are on your sides, the full weight of your left leg over his shoulder has his cheeks smushed together; but kuroo seems completely unbothered, in fact he’s just scrolling through instagram on his phone. when you reach a hand down to tug at his inky hair, only then does he glance up at you.

“are you alright down there?” you ask. “can you even breathe?”

“i woke up here, and i don’t plan on moving any time soon.” kuroo hums, the vibration from his throat are ticklish against your inner thighs. “i’m living my best life, wanna see my new lock screen?”

without waiting for an answer, he shows off his new lock screen - which really happened to be a live photo displaying a collection of pictures with kuroo’s face squeezed between your lush thighs. you can’t help but laugh, kuroo’s cackling joining you. slightly embarrassed at the thought of someone catching a glance at his lock screen, you pull at his hair; complaining about the possibility of being exposed.

kuroo slaps your hands away from his hair, still chuckling. “i don’t care, shorty. i look good between your thighs, don’t you think so?”

flustered, you yank on his hair again. “shut up, rooster head.”

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

while waiting for bokuto to come back home to you from his training with the msby jackals, the last thing you expected was to receive a call from his teammates. it was your day off, and as you were loading the last of you and bokuto’s laundry, your phone began to vibrate - the bright grin of a certain tangerine-haired cutie flashing across the screen.

“hello?”

“hi, bokuto-san- ah, um, i mean y/n-san!”

you chuckle lightly at hinata’s correction. ever since you announced your engagement with bokuto, the younger male had started addressing you by your fiancé’s surname. in the background you can hear atsumu yelling out to you, followed by sakusa complaining about his loud mouth. you were more than familiar with bokuto’s close friends and teammates, from the countless team dinners and nights of drinks hosted at you and bokuto’s townhouse, you shared a solid friendship with everyone.

“ah, shou-kun, everything okay?”

“um, well i just called to let you know that bokuto-san didn’t have the best time at training today.”

‘oh no, poor kou,’ you thought to yourself, heart tugging at the thought of bokuto being sad. his somber moods were a rarity these days; it had actually been almost a year since he’d been in a slump, and he usually loved his trainings, so that meant today must have been extra tough on him.

“i see, thank you for telling me shou-kun.” after listening to hinata’s retelling of the events at training, with side commentary from atsumu and sakusa; you all exchanged goodbyes before ending the call.

with the chance to avoid being unequipped for bokuto’s gloomy return home, you were grateful for hinata’s thought to warn you. it gave you an hour, from his shower to the drive back home, to prepare some of his favourite things. normally it involved inviting akaashi over, but with him out of town, it left you to your own devices. though after being with bokuto for so long, it wouldn’t be that hard.

you knew your man like the back of your hand.

he was probably starving after practice, and what better than to cook some barbecued meat for him - his favourite, with the special sauce you always made just for him. after making some side dishes and rice, you set the table for the two of you, leaving the meat to stay warm in the oven while you went for a quick shower. bokuto made it know how much he enjoys the smell of your cherry bomb body wash, yet today you opted to lather on his orange body wash. knowing the smell of him on you made him crazy, you dried yourself off and decided to wear his old shirt from high school; the baby blue of ‘the way of the ace’ shirt, with the faded black characters.

you had just finished throwing your softest blankets and fluffiest pillows onto the couch in the living room, when you caught the sound jingling keys at the front door. leaping over the back of the sofa, you ran just in time for the door to open.

“kou!” you exclaimed, leaping as soon as you see his bulky figure enter through the doorway. his gym bag landed on the wooden floors with a thud, as he caught you easily in his arms. “welcome home! i missed you so much, baby!”

bokuto’s hold on you is tight. “hi, y/n…” there’s none of the usual chirp in his voice, and you squeeze him closer to you, peppering kisses on his face.

“are you hungry? i made your favourite.”

offering him a small smile at his slight nod, you slid out of his grasp, taking his hand to lead him to the dining table. when he saw the table set, barbecued meats on display, he tugged you to a halt; staring at you with round, golden puppy eyes filled with appreciation. you sat on his lap as he ate, with your arm hooked around his neck; allowing him to feed you, as he listened to you talk about your day. and when the two of you were done, bokuto offered to finish off the dishes while you lounged on the sofa waiting for him, netflix loading on the wide screen television.

distracted by the trailer of some netflix original film, your caught by surprise when bokuto slides face first between your thighs. with his cheek pressed against your pelvis, he shifts your legs over his broad shoulders, thighs almost obscuring his face from your vision if it weren’t for the frosted tips of his hair sticking out. running your fingers through the slightly damp, silken strands; you felt you relax in your embrace, releasing a contented sigh.

“kou?” he hums in response, arms sliding around your thighs as he nuzzles his face into your smooth skin. “i know today wasn’t the best, but there’s always a tomorrow. just remember that i love you so much, and i’m here...okay baby?”

lifting his head slightly, thighs resting by his jaw, he sets his chin just below your navel. staring up at you, he takes your hands in his, slippings his fingers between yours.

“i love you, y/n.” he whispers, slightly mumbled. “thank you for everything.”

giving his hands a loving squeeze, you start explaining the new movie you want to watch. and with his interest piqued, the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon in the comfort of each other; bokuto tracings patterns on your leg, and your hands tangled in his hair.

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

it had been almost a month since you and suga’s return from your honeymoon. after spending an amazing three weeks on a tropical island with your newly wedded husband; strolling along sandy beaches, scuba diving in clear blue waters, and spending warm nights making love under the stars - it was safe to say you were missing the time away relaxing.

so when daichi called your husband during the week to make plans for the long weekend, you were more than happy for a mini getaway to tokyo with your old high school friends.

and that’s how you found yourself, guava oil spread across your skin, stretched out by the poolside, and sipping your umeshu tonic through a pink swirly straw. the boys had decided to take a dip and cool off in the pool, while you and kiyoko had taken to some sunbathing. it was a little after midday, scorching sun at its peak; and the golden rays captured the sparkle of the princess cut diamond of your engagement ring resting between two matching, diamond encrusted bands.

“you’re going to blind everyone with all those diamonds, y/n.” blinking away the daze you’d caught yourself in, you chuckle at kiyoko’s teasing.

“speak for yourself, soon-to-be-mrs-tanaka.” you shot back, nodding at the glimmering engagement ring on her own finger.

the two of you giggled like little school girls, cheeks flushed and eyes closed in mirth; only stopping when a sudden wall appeared, blocking the warm sunshine, and shadowing over you. the wall being none other tanaka, suga following behind.

“kiyo~!” tanaka coos, leaning over his fiancé. “you look hot- uh, i mean it’s pretty hot, y’know.” 

kiyoko simply raises an arched brow, listening to tanaka’s rambling; which quickly turned into the latter throwing the her over his shoulder, and running back towards the pool. she hadn’t even protested at his manhandling, taking to sending you a look that said ‘what can i do?’. with the two of them gone, your full attention was set on the sight of suga.

now standing next to you, his hazel-brown eyes glanced over your laid out figure in appreciation; entranced with the way your bikini top dug into the soft flesh of your breasts, drawing attention to the deep valley of your cleavage. your own keen eyes took in the sight of his slender build; admiring the way his soaked canary trunks hung low on his hips, polyester sticking to his thighs and leaving little to your imagination. with his chest exposed, glistening under the sun as droplets of water slid down his toned stomach - it suddenly felt as if the air had become ten degrees warmer.

“hey there, this seat taken?” suga asks, tilting his head and running a hand to push back the damp, grey strands out of his face.

“oh, this seat?” you ask, gesturing to the lounge chair you were occupying.

your brow’s furrow slightly in confusion, though you gasp when he trails ticklish fingers over your thigh, before squeezing the soft flesh. “no, this one.”

chuckling, you hold your left hand up, wiggling your jewelled ring finger in front of you. “sorry sir, i’m a taken woman.”

suga just grins at you cheekily, leaning forward to press his soft lips against your own. this kiss is brief, but the lingering taste of his mango chapstick and chlorine has you a bit dazed; allowing him to part your legs and slide himself right between them. laying on his stomach, your legs rest by his sides, his fingers teasing the hem of your bikini bottoms.

“ah yes, that you are, sweetheart. and i’m the lucky man who gets to call you mine.” with his cheek is smushed against your thigh, his words come out slurred; but the dreamy look in his eyes as he stares up at you is clear.

“and i’m lucky to have you, koushi.” you whisper in return, the weight of him over you is comforting and you find yourself leaning back into the lounger; as suga nestles himself closer into you.

“mmm, i love this...laying right here between your thighs, sweetheart.”

© 2020 AIIWA. please do not copy, modify or repost my work.

[yeongwonie]

spring smells of daffodils

lee heeseung x gn!reader friends to strangers to ?, angst with an ambiguous ending (0.6k)

✶ hi this has been sitting in my drafts for so long but i wanted to post some writing ^^ idk if u can tell but i wrote this after reading the great gatsby <//3 hope u enjoy!!

every night, heeseung stares across the chasm separating your house from his. the distance seems to widen each time he looks, meters becoming light-years with the passing months.

your room is dark (too dark for him to make out any details, which is probably for the best). even so, your curtains are still pulled completely open, despite the number of times he used to nag at you to pull them shut. 

“at least close them while you’re sleeping,” he’d said, concern drawing his brows together. “the whole street can probably see you.”

“but then i won’t be able to see you, idiot,” you had replied, tugging the fabric even further in rebellion. 

“what do you need to see me for, stalker?”

“you being so close is comforting, you know? i don’t know how to explain it.”

heeseung thinks it’s a little cruel that after everything, your window still faces his. 

next week will be the first week of spring. the season that usually seems so peaceful now feels like the glare of the sunrays that slip through his curtains every morning (he supposes it’s his fault for choosing the east-facing room). 

next week will be the first week of spring. the season that usually seems so peaceful now feels like the glare of the sunrays that slip through his curtains every morning (he supposes it’s his fault for choosing the east-facing room). 

next week will be the first week of spring. the season that usually seems so peaceful now feels like the glare of the sunrays that slip through his curtains every morning (he supposes it’s his fault for choosing the east-facing room). 

it’ll be his first spring in a long time without you. heeseung is terrified.

after allowing himself one last glance toward your dark window, he sighs and turns away. his window joins yours in darkness as he slowly switches the light off. the curtains are pulled shut. 

in the darkness, he casts a glance back toward the pitiful pot of daffodils. 

they’d been a gift from jungwon, and, at the time, heeseung regarded the present with something akin to anger. the bright yellow color felt like a subtle nudge from his friend to pull himself out of the slump he’d fallen into during your period of mutual silence. 

“daffodils mean new beginnings. i know you want space right now, but remember we’re all here for you,” jungwon had murmured, tenderly and carefully placing the ceramic pot into heeseung’s trembling hands. 

in hindsight, it was a nice gesture.

feeling slightly guilty for the blossoms’ poor condition, the man steps forward and gingerly tugs the curtains open so that a sliver of light will be able to peek through come morning. then, he retreats to his bed and spends a night in dreamless sleep.

a few hours later, heeseung is awoken by his alarm clock, sun shining on his face. for the first time in weeks, rather than forcing himself out of slumber in the early hours of the morning to escape dreams of your teary eyes and the quivering voice, he feels well rested.

when he looks out of the window to yours, he does so not in longing or with a deep-seated sadness, but with a feeling bordering on acceptance. 

then, his eyes widen.

your curtains are actually closed, for once, but pasted onto the window with a piece of tape is a white sheet of paper, three words written in bright, red marker with looping handwriting.

“water your daffodils.” 

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Already dating

Word count: 1618

Genre: Probably fluff, idk really

Pairing: Natasha x gn!reader

Warnings: None (let me know if I need to add any)

Request: could you maybe write something with Natasha x male reader (if your comfortable, otherwise you can write it with female or gender neutral) where Natasha blushes when the reader compliments her in front of the team and the team immediately goes crazy and does everything in their power to get them together, only to find out they've been dating all along?

Summary: Steve and Tony (mostly Tony) lock you in an elevator to admit your feelings, not knowing you’re already together.

A/n: Thanks @mochamoff for the request, sorry it took so long to do it! I’m writing this authors note over a week before I’m posting the fic which is unusual because usually I post within twenty four hours of finishing. Anyways it feels nice to be on a break and this fic being posted means I’m officially back which I’m excited for. To be honest this fic isn’t the whole team, just Tony and Steve, but I’m pretty happy with the way it turned out so I hope you all enjoy reading!

“Next time you have to listen to me in the field Stark.” Steve says as soon as everyone is settled into their place on the jet.

“Actually I don’t, you have absolutely no power over me and as much as you want to be the leader of this team you are not so stop acting like it.” Tony snaps back.

“Someone has to step up and lead.” Steve tells him. “It’s not like you could do any better, you would probably mess things up.”

“Maybe I would, but I would do a hell of a lot better than you are doing.” Tony says. “You like to pretend you’re all high and good and above us but who made you leader? Nobody. You crave control so you took it.”

“I did what needed to be done.”

You watch them snap back and forth at one another a few more times, rolling your eyes at Natasha. She gives you a small smile to show that she’s amused and turns her attention back to your two teammates whose argument has only gotten more and more heated.

“Y/n what do you think?” Tony asks, catching you off guard.

“About what?”

“About who would be a better leader for the team.” he explains. You think for a moment and they both stand as tall as possible (in Tony’s case it isn’t tall at all) and puff out their chests. You scoff, the male ego is so big, even in men who are good and try to do the right thing.

“Neither.” you decide.

“Neither- but the team needs a leader, you have to pick someone.” Tony splutters.

“Just because I don’t think the best leader is either of you doesn’t mean I don’t think the team needs a leader.” you tell him. How one of the smartest people in the world can’t figure that out for himself is beyond you.

“So who would you choose then?” Steve asks, confused.

“Natasha obviously.” you say, smiling at her. The corners of her mouth tug up slightly and even that small movement makes you feel proud.

“No offense, but Natasha???” Tony asks, seemingly outraged. “Why?”

“Well first of all she doesn’t have a fragile male ego like you dumbasses.” you tell them. “But it’s more than just that. She’s smart, both book smart and street smart. She can hack into computers and memorize information easily and knows how to blend in, or to get people to like her. She is more rational than the both of you combined but is also good at making decisions on the fly. She is an excellent fighter and can keep track of strategies and she has connections in and out of the government, with backup plans for almost every situation. Not to mention she has an amazing heart and don’t argue like some other people on our team tend to do. And of course she’s absolutely gorgeous but that doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

You wink at her at the end of your mini speech and are surprised to find her cheeks noticeably pink. She can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face when she thinks over your words.

“Abort mission, Romanoff is blushing and smiling, I think I might be about to die.” Tony states obnoxiously.

“Shut up, you’re just annoyed that she likes me better than you.” Natasha tells him, taking a breath to (mostly) collect herself.

“You’re scary when you’re happy. I haven’t seen you like that before.” he says. “Are you in love with Y/n or something?”

“Shut up.”

Tony smirks. “Make me.”

Natasha takes one threatening step towards him and that’s all it takes for him to back away, stuttering out apologies and mumbling under his breath about how Natasha is too scary to be a team leader. Natasha’s scare tactics do seem to work though because he doesn’t speak to anybody but himself for the rest of the ride home.

As soon as the jet touches down you and Natasha exit, heading straight to the room where you are supposed to be debriefed. Steve tries to follow but Tony grabs his arm to let him know to hold back a second.

“I know I joke but I honestly think they’re in love with each other.” Tony tells him. “I didn’t see it before today but there’s no way Y/n’s speech was platonic, who memorizes lists of reasons why they like their friends, not to mention their flirty wink at the end. And then Natasha, she’s scary but she was acting weird and happy around Y/n.”

“I hate to say this but I agree with you and they would make a cute couple.” Steve says. “But we should probably catch up now.”

Tony takes Steve’s words as an opportunity to stop being serious and become obnoxious again. “Onward dear captain, lead the way fearsome leader, how ever could I-”

“Tony I’m trying to be polite but you are making it very hard.”

---

“Tony no.”

“Tony yes.”

“That is a horrible idea.”

Tony opens his mouth in outrage. “I think it’s a pretty good idea actually.”

“I won’t work.” Steve counters.

“Well I think it well and need I’m the only genius here.” he says smugly.

“You can’t force love!” Steve tells Tony, running his hand through his hair in frustration.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Tony says, “I’m not forcing love, they are already in love. All I’m doing is giving them a little push.”

“By locking them in an elevator?” Steve asks in a deadpan voice.

“Exactly.”

“You can’t just go around locking people-” Steve starts to say but he gets cut off by Tony.

“Shhhhhhh, hi Y/n, hi Natasha.”

“Hi guys, what are you up to?” you ask, obvious to what was going on seconds before you entered the room. Natasha eyes them suspiciously because they are acting weird, holding their bodies stiffly, which means they are hiding something.

“We were just about to head down to the training room, want to come?” Tony lies smoothly while Steve shakes his head in the background.

“That sounds good,” you reply, “you want Tasha?”

“Okay.” she agrees, still eyeing both of them, Tony in particular suspiciously.

“Great!” Tony says and starts to walk towards the elevator and the rest of you follow him, Steve trying to convince himself that going along with Tony’s plan is doing no harm.

“Ladies first.” he says, stepping off to the side and giving a big flourish with his arm. It’s weird but then again Tony is always weird so you don’t think too much of it, stepping into the elevator. As soon as Natasha follows you in he orders Jarvis to close and lock the doors and to prevent the elevator from moving and then pulling up a screen so he can watch you.

“You better run when I get out of here!” Natasha yells. “You too Steve!”

“You’re going to thank me later.” Tony says. “Steve, why don’t you explain why we locked them in.”

“Um,” Steve hesitates, not knowing where to start, “well we think that you two need to talk about, um, feelings.”

“Feelings?” you ask, confused, while realization dawns over Natasha’s face.

“Um, yeah feelings.” Steve responds, feeling very awkward and hoping this works so he didn’t do all that for nothing.

“They don’t know we’re dating and they’re trying to get us together.” Natasha leans over and whispers in your ear before straightening back up and talking to Tony again. “I didn’t take you for such a romantic Stark.”

“What? I’m not- romantic me? Pepper says I’m the least romantic guy she’s ever been with.” he splutters, trying to regain his masculinity.

“And that is not a compliment.” you tell him. “But for some reason even though ‘you aren’t romantic’ you wanted to get us together.”

“Maybe I did,” he says. “but you have to admit that my plan is amazing and it's totally working.”

Natasha snorts “What part of this conversation screams working to you?”

“Well you haven’t killed Y/n yet and neither of you have denied your feelings so it’s obviously working. I expect a thank you speech dedicated to me at your wedding.” He says arrogantly.

“There will be no speech.” Natasha tells him.

“But there will be a wedding?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and Steve has to look away because it looks ridiculous.

“Hopefully.” you say, teasing Tony with your vagueness but also making Natasha smile as she thinks about what that might be like.

“Told you my plan would work.” Tony brags to Steve before telling Jarvis to release you from the elevator.

“Your plan sucked.” Natasha tells him. “We were already dating dumbasses.”

She grabs your hand and pulls you out of the room as Steve and Tony stare after you, shocked.

“Did you know about this?” Tony asks, looking at Steve with suspicion.

“Not at all.” Steve answers, his mouth still half open. In hindsight it should have been obvious. Of course Natasha wouldn’t want to be open about her dating life right away, she likes her secrets way too much.

---

“You owe me fifty bucks Y/n.” Natasha tells you once you’re out of earshot.

“Seriously?” you whine.

“You said they already knew but they didn't, so pay up.” She holds her hand outwards expectantly and you both laugh.

“Later.” you tell her. “There are more important things to do now.”

“Hmm, like what?” she teases gently, taking a step closer to you. Your breath catches because you still can’t believe you are dating someone this beautiful. You match her halfway and pull her into a deep kiss, only pulling back when you need to breath.

“This.”

---

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[cat-induced-fever-dream]

Acquaintances

Pairing: Wanda x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Description: Wanda meets someone who doesn’t treat her like a villain, but she doesn’t know who you really are.

Notes: I promise it’s fluff and not a trap. Also sorry about my hiatus, I’m just super unmotivated to do anything. So here’s my feeble offering to try and get back into writing.

- - -

Wanda groaned at the sight of a man with a camera. All she wanted was to pop down to the shops, buy some paprika, but alas, even a shopping trip was gold for the paparazzi. Maybe if she hid behind an aisle he would leave. But she heard the door open behind her. Ducking quickly behind a stack of tuna cans, she scanned the rows for the precious package.

She knew she wasn’t the favourite of the public, and the guilt of what she’d done ate her alive every night, but she was sick of being blamed. All she did was try her best, but this was the kind of thanks she got.

She frowned a little when she saw the man round the corner. She steeled herself, not wanting the tears to spring to her eyes. Turning around to face him, she- There was a person talking to him. You had a shopping bag in your hand, so you must have been another customer. Dressed smartly with a blazer, but paired with jeans and sneakers, you looked friendly, but the cold look you gave the man said otherwise. You exchanged words quietly with the reporter, and he seemed to refuse you, turning back to look at her. Realising that this was the perfect stall to get out of the store, she resumed her search. Cumin, Ginger, Paprika! Quickly glancing back to see how long she had, she saw you hand the man a business card as he hurriedly shuffled away.

“Sorry about that,” you turned to her, looking genuinely apologetic.

“Why?” she asked, it coming out harsher than she meant for it to. “It wasn’t even your fault.”

You shrugged. “You don’t deserve it.”

Wanda frowned again at this. She didn’t even know you, but you helped her out, so the least she could do was be polite. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” you smiled. The two of you started to walk towards to counter. More like she did and you kind of happened to as well. “What are you cooking with the paprika?”

Sliding the bag to the cashier, she turned to face you properly. “I was making a traditional Sokovian dish.”

“I’m a big fan of trying different cuisines,” you replied, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “That sounds delicious.”

Wanda’s not really sure why you’re trying to make conversation, but you didn’t seem to have an agenda, so she indulged you with a response as the two of you walked out of the store. “It is, my mum always had the best recipe.”

“Ah well, my parents weren’t around much, so I can’t say the same,” you laughed, throwing your shopping in the back of what must have been your car.

Wanda hadn’t even realised she had walked with you to your car. That was embarrassing. “Well, it was nice to meet you, but I should be going now,” backing away as quickly as she could without making a fool of herself.

“Wait,” you called, “do you need a lift back?”

“You’re a stranger.”

“Well I know your name is Wanda,” you grinned cheekily, opening the passenger door. “And my name is Y/N. Guess we’re not strangers anymore. So, what do you say? It’s the least I could do, with that man bothering you.”

She’s not sure what compelled her to agree, but she found herself sitting in a plush leather seat as you adjusted the rear view mirror. Tapping the dashboard screen, you pulled up a map to Avengers Tower and backed out of the parking lot.

You didn’t seem to mind that she didn’t make conversation, bopping your head gently to whatever pop song was on the radio. Instead she spent the time trying to figure out who you were and why you were being so nice. “It’s rude to stare, you know?” you winked at her.

Wanda felt the heat rush to her cheeks. “Wha- No, sorry,” she mumbled. She’d done it again, made herself look dumb. You giggle, returning your eyes to the road. Trying not to stare at you this time, she observed the fancy watch adorning your wrist, and the sleek interior of the car. You must be a businesswoman of some sort, since this clearly wasn’t your average suburban car. But you were wearing jeans. Maybe a lower level employee than?

She sat there musing, until the door suddenly opened. “We’re here,” you smiled, gesturing at the grand tower that was now her home.

Why couldn’t she stop being so awkward? This was the third time. Unbuckling the seatbelt, she stumbled out, clutching the paprika to her chest. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime, Wanda.” And with a small wave, you hopped back into your car and drove off.

- - -

Heading straight to her room, Wanda abandoned her plans for paprikash. The whole interaction was quite frankly, baffling. No one was ever nice to her, except for the Avengers. But you clearly knew who she was, driving her back to the tower without an address. Tossing her jacket on her bed, she sighed. It’s not like she’d ever see you again. That’s when she noticed the card peeking out from the pocket. There was a phone number printed neatly on it, and a cursive scrawl underneath. “I am actually interested in the dish though. Could I have the name of it?”

She hadn’t exactly interacted with anyone else, so it must’ve been you. Running her thumb over the ink, she was hit with a renewed sense of energy. Grabbing the paprika, she dashed back down the stairs.

- - -

You’re spinning around in your office chair when your phone goes off. Clicking on the message, a small smile makes its way into your face.

Unknown Number: this is the dish i was talking about

Unknown Number: *image*

Unknown Number: it’s paprikash

- - -

“Hey Wanda,” Tony called, a carefully wrapped package in his arms, “this came for you.”

One look at the scarlet wrapping paper, and she knew who it was from. “Thanks Tony,” she said, grabbing it and running to her room.

Setting the package gently on her bed, she untied the ribbon and unfolded the wrapping paper. Nestled in the middle, a box of cookies.

She grinned to herself. Wanda’s been texting you for a couple of months now, and now she could really say that you’re not strangers. She knows that you can’t cook, but you can bake. You’re a businesswoman “of sorts” you say, and that you’re a pretty busy person. But regardless, you hang out with her, chilling in the local coffee shop, going shopping, even just a stroll around the park. She also knows that this happiness she gets when she sees you is definitely not platonic.

Opening the lid, the chocolate aroma wafts into her room. Her favourite of your baked goods. There’s a note tucked into the side of the box, and she delicately pulls it out. “Be my girlfriend?” she read, the handwriting obviously yours. Wait. Be my girlfriend? She sat there dumbly for a couple of seconds before it hit her. You’re asking her to be your girlfriend. Wanda scrambled for her phone, snapping a picture to send to you.

Y/N: those cookies look delicious, who sent them?

The witch rolled eyes at your antics, but played along.

Wanda: idk, but i just got asked out

Y/N: whoaaaa, did you say yes?

Wanda: yes you dumbass

Y/N: okay, under other circumstances that would’ve hurt, but i’m too excited to care right now <3

Wanda: ...

Wanda: did you try to bribe me with cookies?

Y/N: it worked, didn’t it?

Wanda: i can’t believe i actually like you

Y/N: honestly, me too

Y/N: sorry it’s a busy day, but you wanna come over for dinner?

Wanda: sounds good <3

Y/N: i’ll come pick you up, see you then girlfriend

She didn’t want bugs in her room, so Wanda grabbed the box to put in her kitchen cupboard. Balancing a cookie in her mouth, she was about to close the lid, when a hand pinched one. Eyes immediately glowing red, she locked onto Sam as he backed away, half eaten cookie and hands up in surrender.

“Do that again and I will give you nightmares.”

The Falcon whistled lowly. “Okay. Protective over cookies. Got it.”

“There’s cookies?” Bucky asked, strolling in.

“No.”

“Oh okay.”

- - -

The heroes were sprawled on the couches playing a game of UNO when Wanda came down the stairs.

“What are you doing with that hoodie?” Tony asked sharply.

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows. “This.. hoodie?” she replied, tugging on the drawstrings of the soft item of company clothing she was wearing.

“Yes! That’s my enemy’s!”

She didn’t really want to get into whatever nonsense the genius was spouting again. “My friend lent it to me.”

“You have friends?” joked Sam.

Steve gave the man a warning look. “It’s good that you’re adjusting to life here.”

“I think the important question here,” Natasha said from her spot, “is where are you going?”

“Dinner,” she replied, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. She tried to fight the silly smile that crept into her face whenever she thought about you, but she mustn’t have hid it well enough, since the red headed spy gave her a sickeningly sweet smile.

I hate you, she projected.

Nat winked back.

“Based on the way Miss Maximoff keeps anxiously glancing at the door, there is likely to be someone waiting for her,” Vision piped up. “I have searched the Internet databases, and from what I have gathered, your casual outfit means that you are going with someone you are familiar with. The sharing of clothes is usually reserved for close friends or romantic partners only.”

Of course the android had to get involved.

“Your heart rate seems to be speeding up Miss Maximoff. Are you okay?”

“Wanda Maximoff,” Tony asked slowly, “do you have a boyfriend?”

That’s when all hell broke loose.

“Who is he?”

“Is he hot?”

“Where did you meet?”

“How did you even get a boyfriend?”

“Can we meet him?”

“What-“

“Okay,” she groaned. Well it was bound to happen eventually. She just wished she could’ve gotten even a few months without the teasing. “I have a girlfriend, yes she’s hot, yes I’m going to have dinner with her, and I’ll ask about meeting. I’m going to go now.” With that, she stepped into the elevator.

“Don’t think this conversation is over witchy,” called Tony, as the doors slid shut.

- - -

“Hey,” you smiled as she slid into the car. “What took you so long?”

“The Avengers found out.”

You chuckled at that. “What, did they interrogate you or something?”

“Something like that.” She paused. “They want to meet you.”

“Are you sure?”

“They’re my family, and they’ll love you as much as I do.”

“Cute,” you grinned, “but I don’t know about Tony.”

“Trust me, they’re a mess a lot of the time, but they’re good people.”

You checked through your phone. “I haven’t got anything on around lunch tomorrow. I can come by then, how does that sound?”

“So you’ll come?”

“Anything for my girlfriend.”

- - -

Her green eyes locked onto you amongst the bustle of suits in the lobby.

“Hey.”

You adjusted the grey fabric of your pantsuit. “Hey yourself.”

“Did you wear the suit to impress me?” Wanda asked, delicately tugging on your tie.

“Actually, I’ve got a meeting with the investors later. Gotta make an impression, you know?”

“Well consider me impressed,” she whispered against your ear.

Blushing, you allowed Wanda to lead you to the elevator.

- - -

Clint wasn’t sure what to expect with you. But if Wanda liked you, you were sure to be one of the good sorts. So maybe like a cute girl she met at the cafe or something. He sure as hell wasn’t expecting the confident girl dressed in a suit to step out of the elevator.

All of them were lined up in the common room and he’s pretty sure any normal person would have been intimidated by the sheer amount of Avengers in front of them, but you stepped up to them absolutely unfazed.

“Mr Rogers,” you offered your hand to shake, “a pleasure to meet you.”

Steve was expecting to have to take the lead with introductions, but here you seemed to be handling yourself fine. “Likewise.”

“Is Mr Stark here today?” you asked him.

“He’s a bit busy at the mo-“

Clattering and a string of curses interrupted him. And of course, the man himself stepped into the room, Iron Man debris in his wake.

“Tony,” Steve scolded.

“What? Did you think I’d miss meeting the girl who stole the heart of our cold antisocial emo?”

Wanda tossed a couch pillow at him, but he brushed it off.

“Tony Stark,” he declared.

You shook his hand politely. “I know who you are Mr Stark.”

“And you are...?”

“Y/N L/N.”

The genius might have been singed from his armour, but the moment that name fell from your lips, he yanked his hand away, as if he was burned.

“L/N. As in L/N Corporations?”

“That’s me.”

Abruptly he turned to Wanda. “Do you know who this is?” he hissed. “The greatest rival to Stark Industries. I thought you were introducing your girlfriend.”

You gave him a winning smile. “I am her girlfriend Mr Stark. And you may have made me your rival, but I can assure you that you are not mine.”

Sam snorted.

“What are you doing here then? Are you here to try and steal data? You can’t...”

You paid him no mind as you winked at Sam. Spotting the metal arm, your eyes widened. “You must be Bucky, right? Princess Shuri told me she’d been working on some vibranium projects. I’d love to take a closer look some other day if you don’t mind?”

“How do you know Shuri?” Stark spluttered.

“You think that she only talks to rich boys who need her help? Sorry to burst your bubble.”

Nat couldn’t help but smirk at this.

“Oh and I’ve actually been working on some prototype Widow Bites as a bit of a free time project,” you added. “If you’re interested, your opinion on usage would really help me to refine them.”

“Of course.”

“Traitor,” Tony glared.

It’s at this point your phone began to ring. Glancing down, you offered a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve really got to take this.” You turned to face the wall as your friendly tone turned professional.

The Avengers huddled together as your call went on.

“Is she using you for information?” Tony scowled.

Wanda scowled back. “She’s my girlfriend Stark. Not everything is about you.”

He looked as if he was going to say more, but Steve interrupted.

“Look Tony, she seemed like a perfectly lovely girl.”

“Yeah I like her,” added Sam. “She can keep your ego in check.”

“If Wanda likes her, I’m fine with it too.” Clint said.

Wanda gave him a thankful look.

A cough came awkwardly behind them.

“I really hate to cut this short everyone, but something’s come up back at the office. Investors are a pain.”

“Yeah go on back to your investors then,” spat Tony.

“Wow” you drawled, heading back to the elevator, “is the rich card the only thing you can play Stark?”

The light on the wall indicated that the cab had arrived, and you stepped inside the carriage which would take you back down, as Peter stepped out.

“Oh hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I was just leaving Pete, but swing by later, alright?”

“You know it.”

“Oh and I heard you liked the hoodie I gave Wanda, Mr Stark,” you called. “I can grab you one as well, since it’s my company. But I really do gotta run now. Nice to meet you all!” The metal doors slid shut on your grinning face.

There was a silence, before Tony turned on his protégée. “How the hell are you on a first name business with her?”

“We’re friends?” Peter offered.

“Friends?”

“She went to college with me. She was super smart and we hung out and stuff. You know, what friends usually do.”

Squirming under his mentor’s gaze, he continued. “She was too smart for college though, so she dropped out and started her company. It didn’t mean we stopped being friends though.”

“Why didn’t you tell me Underoos?”

“She figured you might overreact, especially with the web sho-“ The boy’s eyes widened, and he made a mad dash for the stairs.

But Tony grabbed his wrist. “What were you saying?”

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “She helped me out with my web shooters in college, and since then, she’s been developing them with me.”

“What?”

“She knows I’m Spider-Man and I work with her on my tech,” he said slowly.

The man surveyed his teammates, making deliberate eye contact with each and every one of them. “Traitors, the lot of you,” he huffed.

“I mean you gotta admit it,” laughed Sam. “She’s college age, and built an empire to rival you. Not to mention that she’s pretty, smart, has better PR and actual time management skills-“

“Okay I get it,” the genius cut him off.

“Don’t be upset,” Clint smirked, “you can’t lose if you’re not her competition.”

Tony stomped off.

“Don’t worry about him, he’ll come around,” Steve said gently, nodding at Wanda who was fiddling anxiously with her rings.

“She was cool,” added Nat. “Tony can be a pain in the ass, but he knows she’s a good person.”

Her phone buzzed in her hand.

<3: i’d say that went pretty well

Wanda: cannot believe you didn’t tell me

<3: i’m really sorry babe, please don’t hate me

Wanda: i could never

<3: just didn’t want him to stop you from fraternising with the enemy or whatever

Wanda: i’d break the rules for you any day

<3: how romantic

<3: so miss rebel, you coming over tonight?

Wanda: depends if you’re still wearing the suit

<3: anything for you ;)

[goldentsum]

— love, you can’t run away from me forever.

PAIRING: soulmate! suna rintarou x reader

GENRE: smut, soulmate au but make it dark

WORDCOUNT: 5.5k

SUMMARY: growing up in a world filled with soulmates was magical but with news about people going crazy and killing people for their “love” made suna repulsive to the idea of soulmates though when you came along, he finally understood why those people did it. 

WARNING: dark content, smut, noncon, manipulative tendencies, cussing/cursing, creepy! and delulu! suna, mean! reader, masturbation (male), photos and audio recording taken w/o consent, kidnapping, oral sex (fem receiving), bdsm, sadistic! suna, dom! suna, violence, abuse, blood, suna is a dick, reader who tries to fight back

AUTHOR’S NOTE: another one cus why not! you guys seemed to liked my first dark fic so here’s another one! <3 might be bad idk prob cus of my writing HAHAHHA also, suna just being a creepy and psychopathic aquarius. DO NOT INTERACT/READ IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON’T LIKE THIS TYPE OF CONTENT. 

REMINDER: this is not love and i do not condone this type of behavior. do not romanticize this, this is fiction and in no way am i telling people this is okay. if you don’t like content like this, please click away or block the tag tw.darkcontent

‘the world is fucked up,’ suna thought, looking at his phone as he saw all types of news about people killing and committing all types of felonies to prove that their love for their soulmates were real. 

the stoic male grimaced at one news he came upon when he scrolled up, a young man killed his family and friends because “he doesn’t need anyone else beside his soulmate”. now that was fucked up. suna never thought he'd lose faith in humanity even more with each passing day. it was actually impressive with how fucking stupid and delusional people get when the topic of soulmates come up. 

gold eyes narrowed at the inked skin of his wrist. “(l/n) (y/n)” or whoever that is better not mind never having a soulmate because there’s no way in hell suna’s going to be all lovey-dovey and accept the soulmate bullshit. 

he thinks that soulmates are a scam. it was a hoax to make people do stupid shit and suna will not tolerate that type of bull. if he’s gonna end up with someone, it’ll be because he likes them not because of ‘fate’ or whatever decided it for him. 

he will never conform to society and its standards. 

“suna! what’s with the ugly face?” atsumu snickered, plopping down on the seat beside suna making the taller male groan. 

“oh fuck off, atsumu. i’m not in the mood for your bullshit” 

“when have you ever been in a mood for bullshit?” 

suna raised a brow and hummed, “good point” 

atsumu shook his head and turned to the counter where his brother was standing behind. “’samu! i want 3 tuna onigiris!” 

osamu glared at his brother and scowled, “get it yourself, lazy ass” 

“i’m paying you!” atsumu whined like the little brat he is but osamu ignored him and tended to the other customers in his shop. suna groaned at the noise, “for fuck’s sake, tsumu. shut up. your voice is so annoying” 

atsumu glared at the man and punched his shoulder, making suna winced and scowled at his former teammate from highschool. the older miya twin huffed and ignored his words, continuing what he was about to say before suna insulted him, “anyway! what i was trying to say earlier was that people around us are finding their soulmates while i’m stuck with you bums! how is that fair?!” 

suna groaned, annoyed, at the same old topic of soulmates. “soulmates are overrated. it’s a scam. you’re lucky you haven’t met yours yet if anything.” 

the setter scoffed at suna’s old same line of bitterness towards the topic of soulmates, “what’s with you, anyway? what’s with the bitterness towards soulmates?” 

“it’s bullshit, is all” suna replied easily, not bothered nor giving a shit. atsumu smirked and threw an arm over the male’s shoulder, “one day, you’ll meet your soulmate and everything’s gonna change.” 

“did you just curse me or?” 

“I don't know, did i?”

oh for fuck’s sake. atsumu really did cursed him. suna stared in awe, uncharacteristically so, at you while you glared at him. you clicked your tongue when his gaze was still as dazed and lovesick since you two have met. 

“fuck off, rintarou! i told you i don’t want any soulmate bullshit!” 

suna chuckled with a small blush on his cheeks, “i love it when you call me, rintarou--”

“because that’s your name, stupid! you know what, i’m not even gonna bother. and for the last time, stop following me!” you growled, stomping off to get away from your creep of a soulmate but the man didn’t mind your words. it was quite amusing to him to be honest. 

you’re so cute and small and so angry at the world that it’s so endearing to him. with every glare you give him, it sends pleasant shivers down his spine. ah, so this is what it felt to be with your soulmate. it’s addicting. you two could rule the world together if you want to. 

“love, you can’t run away from me forever. i’m your soulmate” 

you groaned at the persistent male, “i don’t want you as a soulmate! why can’t you understand that?!” 

suna stopped following you after your harsh words. you also stopped, your anger subsiding a bit when you realized what you said and all of a sudden, there was a pain in your heart. you cursed at the soulmate bond that was not letting you reject your fate. guilt resurfaced in your gut when you looked at suna who’s staring at the ground, eyes hidden under his bangs. 

“r-rintarou?.. look i’m sorry, okay. but i don’t really want any soulmate business in my life-...” you tried to explain but quickly cut your words off when suna started chuckling. 

scared and terrified at the creepy laugh and unexpected action, you stepped back and looked at him with wide eyes. suna then looked up at you and smirked, the dark glint in his eyes gave you the creeps, his breath heavy as he panted like a dirty pervert! his eyes were so filled with emotions. lust, obsession, and ‘love’ but you don’t  even know if you can call it ‘love’...

“did you feel that? it shows... no matter what you do. we’re connected.” 

oh fuck no. this psycho is not worth it. you grimaced at his words and turned back around swiftly, walking faster to get away from him. 

“fate will always bring us together, (y/n). the quicker you accept that, the easier life gets” you heard him shouted after you and it only made you quicken your actions, heart beating rapidly at what just happened. 

suna smirked at your figure as it grew smaller and smaller. he figured he’d let you go for now. it’s not like you can hide from him. you can try but the ink on your skin will always remind you where you belong and that’s with him. 

the tall male looked at his phone, the screen showing a picture of you sleeping. he traced your features through the phone with a loving sigh and quickly stuffed it back to his pocket. he whistled a small tune under his breath on his way back home, his thoughts filled with you. 

suna walked inside his apartment, shrugging his shoulders to loosen the tight muscles. he groaned in annoyance when his shoes got stuck on his foot but quickly shook it off. the moment he was in his bedroom, he removed his shirt and plopped down on the bed, opening his phone again. 

in his phone, there was a whole album of you. sleeping, eating, at the gym, when you were at the library. suna also opened one of the files in his phone as sounds of you breathing when you were sleeping echoed in the room. 

a small moan escaped the phone, suna’s eyes shining slyly at the sound. oh how he wants to hear it in person. he wants to hear every lovely sound you can make. he wants to know everything about you. 

what type of weather do you like? do you like cereal at night like him? do you have a special place for cats in your heart like he does? do you hate heat like him? and do you like getting fucked so hard the only thing you can do is scream? 

suna sighed at the last thought as rapid images of what you would look like popped in his head. would you look pouty? would you cry? would you be quiet and shy? or would you moan like a bitch in heat? 

the familiar twitch in his sweats made suna antsy. a hand drifted to his pants to palm himself through the cloth. 

suna massaged his hardening cock through his pants, letting out sighs as he did so. your soft breathing from the phone was making him harder. he imagined you beside him, sleeping. looking so innocent and safe from all the vile things of the world. safe with him. 

your plump lips curled into a small pout as your brows furrows while you dream then waking up, needy for him. suna groaned and swiftly tugged his sweats and boxers off him. he spat on his hand, hissing when he started stroking his thick cock. drifting to the sensitive head of his cock, he massaged it with the slick spit as it ooze out pre-cum. 

he quickly coated his digits with the precum and slicked his twitching cock with it for the smooth friction he was craving. he panted at the feeling when he tightened his grip on his dick, trying to imagine your tight wet pussy instead. 

“s-shit, baby... feels so good’“ he slurred, closing his eyes to focus on the feeling of the tight grip, stroking himself to a slow rhythm. in his mind, he can see your pretty face. 

he can imagine you on top of him, rolling your hips slowly to not overstimulate yourself with his large cock inside of you. suna licked his lips, a small smirk appearing on his face as he imagined the cute little noises you made when you tried to fit him in you. 

his thick cock hitting so deeply inside you but oh how you like it, you slut. you’d look so gorgeous, moaning on top of him, hands on his chest whilst you ride him. 

“r-rintarou” he can hear your lewd voice calling out, your breath getting heavier with each stroke of his cock, dragging in your tight wet walls. your big doe eyes filled with tears as you look down at him, trying to get some help from him to fuck you good already.

he cursed when he felt a familiar band trying to snap in his lower stomach, his hand getting faster. wet slapping sounds echoed in the room along with your soft breathing on his phone. his violent and aggressive movements were getting him closer to his release. 

this is how he wants it to be. him fucking you so violently making you cry, hands gripping you tight that your pretty skin would bloom with violets and blue. 

he can already see it, how your tongue will roll out your pretty lips whilst you get fucked so hard that all you can do is lay and scream for him, your soulmate. your other half. you belong to him. 

“ha-ah-!” suna groaned deeply when his release hit him, thick warm cum hit his clenching abs as the spiraling pleasure made him shiver. his hand pumping his dick fast to ride his orgasm, his chest heaving deep pants. the male gulped down, trying to wet his dry throat as he slowly calmed down. lazy yellow eyes stared up in the white ceiling of his bed. 

he needs you. he wants to feel you. he wants to be with you. now. 

you sighed as you walked home to your apartment, it has been a week since your crazy soulmate tried to bother you in accepting him and it was making you jumpy. his eyes just showed so much when you last saw him that it made you paranoid with every movement that was happening around you. 

you entered your room, exhaling a deep breath of relief as you felt the warm air of your safe home. it was nice to be in your apartment again. no one to bother you. safe from the crazy man that suddenly stopped messing with you. 

after shrugging off your coat, you enter your kitchen to get a glass of water. all the overthinking about the mess that fate got you into was making your head hurt. as you greedily gulped down the water to soothe your dry throat, a movement from the dark living room made you choke on it. 

“shit” you cursed and looked at the wet floor. you put the glass down and looked at the dark living room, trying to catch any movement. you then quietly went to the knives beside you and grabbed one, walking cautiously through the room. you flickered the lights on, ready to strike if something attacked you, but as the lights went on, you sighed in relief when you saw no one. 

you let your hand drop beside you, rolling your eyes at yourself at the paranoia. you cursed the man that did this. now you were overthinking stuff and seeing shadows.

when you were about to turn around, a large hand covered your mouth and tightly gripped your wrist that held the knife, making it clunk to the floor as you screamed but the hand muffled it. 

“stop fuckin moving already.. you’re gonna just tire yourself” the familiar voice made your body stiff, your blood went cold. crying against his hand when you felt his lips touch your ear, teeth grazing it. 

“you’re so pretty” he cooed, his voice heavy and slow. tears pricked your eyes as you struggled against his hold but the tall man was obviously stronger than you being an athlete. you tried to stomp on his feet but the man nudged you forward with his weight as you two tumbled into the couch. 

you can feel the vibration of his chuckle as his chest was against your back. you heard him sigh and a small grind on your ass was enough to make you feel disgusted and dirty. 

“i apologize for this next action, (y/n)” suna muttered beside your eyes and he leaned back, quickly turning you around. before you could even scream, pain blossomed on your cheek. your vision turned blurry at the impact, dizzy.

this motherfucker just punched you. you faced him again and spat the blood on his face, your lip busted as well. “f-fuck you!”

suna growled at your actions but quickly smirked, wiping away the bloody spit on his eye while he held you down. 

“a tough one~ i like that” he whispered and you could feel a hard nudge on your inner thigh making you grimace. this man was fucked up... he just got hard from punching you and you fighting back-

suna smirking down at you was the last thing you remember then everything went dark.

the room was cold. and your limbs ached with each movement you did. you opened your eyes and panic hit you when you couldn’t see anything. you tried to call out but there was a gag on your mouth. 

you cried through the gag, you cursed everything. you hate fate for getting you into this mess. you curse soulmates bonds, you were right. soulmates are a bunch of bullshit. just look at where that ended you up in. most importantly, you hate him. if you can, you’ll kill him on the spot. 

the fucking psychopath. your soulmate. 

you bit the cloth on your mouth as the binds on your eyes got wet from the tears that escaped from your eyes. your feelings were a mess and all you could feel is anger, shame, and dread. 

“oh, you’re awake. that’s good. i thought i hit you harder than i intended to, thank god that you’re okay” you heard the familiar voice that you loathe. you growled through your gag but suna could only laugh at your pathetic attempt of dominance when you’re gagged, blindfolded, and tied to the bed. 

“now now, no need for that. we want to get along, don’t we” he muttered, walking closer to you and sat on the bed, beside you. 

you flinched when you felt his weight beside you and his hands caressed your cheek. you whimpered at the dull pain when he touches your cheek. this fucker touched where he punched you--

“that looked like it’ll bruise” you growled again at his words. you wanted to scream at him. hit him. make him feel the pain of what he did to you. 

your fussing about stopped and you stiffened when you felt him shift on top of you, going in between your legs. you tried to close your legs but his hands were faster than you. 

he maneuvered you like a doll he owns, fixing you into a position he liked. suna gazed at your tied-up body, his cock already starting to harden in his pants. he wants to touch you already. 

his hand went up and tugged your blindfold as he smiled at your dazed look that changed to a mean one. suna chuckled at your spirit. it was making him excited. 

“you’re too cute, love” he muttered, leaning closer to your neck and nuzzled into you, taking in your scent loudly making you flinch in dread. 

“you smell so sweet,” he said against your neck, an unconscious shiver running up your body. suna smirked when he felt it and continued to nuzzle his face in your neck. his hands touching and groping your body while you growled through the gag but he barely even paid attention to it, too caught up at the feeling of finally touching you and being with you. 

“i wanna taste you~” he whispered lewdly, looking deep into your eyes with a smirk. your eyes widened at his words and mustered up all the strength you had and hit his head against yours. 

you were disoriented after it but it was worth it when you heard his curse as he leaned away. your forehead was red you were sure and it’ll bruise with how hard his head was. 

“you bitch-!” your moment of victory was cut off when large hands wrapped around your neck, squeezing it. you choked, wriggling around to get away from suna but he leaned all his weight on top of you. 

he glared down at you, watching with sick satisfaction when your eyes slowly fluttered close and your struggling gradually ceased. suna can snap your neck right now if he wants to. the power he has over you almost made him drool, his cock twitching excitedly in his pants.

he let your neck go, heart beating fast when he saw finger marks on your neck, the shape of his hands on your skin. he watched you cough and try to inhale air, desperately. 

suna then grasped your chin in a tight hold and turned you to face him, making your dazed eyes look up at him, “do that again and i’ll make you bleed.” 

he let your chin go harshly and climbed off you, going out of the room. you gulped and intake the precious air, looking at the door with fear and anger. 

being with suna was an absolute nightmare. you don’t know how long it has been since the psycho kidnapped you and it was agitating. you fought back but suna liked it because it gave him the excuse to hurt you. you knew this but you just can’t give him the satisfaction he craved of you submitting to him. 

your body was slumped into the bed whilst you cried as suna ate you out. his fingers pumping viciously in and out of you, tongue lapping on your swollen clit. he denied you 4 orgasms already and your body was so sensitive from it. 

“just fucking accept this already!” suna growled against your pussy, the vibrations sending violent shivers in your body. you writhe and keened, your body in his mercy. 

you shook your head, tears streaming down your red and bruised cheeks. your neck was decorated with purple and red, bite marks and fingerprints alike. your wrists red and raw from the rope he used on you constantly.

“n-no!” 

suna rolled his eyes at your disobedience but let you be. he knows you’ll be his good girl sooner or later. he just has to try harder, he guesses. 

he sucked on your clit messily, tonguing your wetness. his fingers caressing your walls as he hit your g-spot making you arch your back. suna smirked and continued his ministrations, ignoring your pleading to let you cum already. 

he felt your walls clenching on his fingers as he stopped altogether making you cry in desperation. suna leaned on his feet, admiring the way your body tried to hump him to get the satisfaction of cumming. 

your body is so beautiful. before it was pristine and void of any marks and flaws but now your skin was decorated with purple and red courtesy of his love for you. 

“you really wanna do this, (y/n)? you rather be a bad girl than be my precious girl?” suna tried to reason with you, his tone was as if he was talking to a child. you scowled at him, “fuck you, asshole!” 

suna’s eyes turned dark at it. one thing he can’t tolerate was you saying such crude and bad words. he raised his hand and slapped you, the force of it made you turn to the side as you gasped at the pain. 

blood dripped from your nose. suna then grabbed your cheeks, squeezing. he glared down at you. “when will you learn... and here i thought you were smarter than that” 

you cried at the pain of his grip on your face and the sting of his slap was still there as his fingers pressed down to the bruises you had on your face. he shook your head, growling, “what do you say when you do something wrong” 

he continued to shake you, your aching limbs hurt at the violent movements. you whimpered and unconsciously replied, “i’m sorry-!” 

suna stopped and removed his hands from you. you looked up at him with teary eyes and saw him smiling softly at you. his mood swings were scary. you don’t really know what type of suna you’ll get before it’s too late... 

“atta girl...” he muttered and started to remove his pants. you panicked at his actions and tried to move away but the painful slap on your thigh was enough to make you stop. 

“now, let me fuck you” 

suna grabbed your ankle and pulled you down on the bed further, closer to him. he pumped his cock at the sight of you, so pretty and crying

“rintarou please-! d-don’t!” you cried, feeling so helpless and all your fire from earlier and the past days gone. the dark-haired male grinned at your sobbing and fussing about. 

“tsk. be a good girl, (y/n). just accept it.” he leaned closer to you, whispering against your wobbly lips. his dark yellow eyes stared straight into yours, lust swirling around his orbs. your body shook in fear and a small cry leaving your swollen lips. 

in one swift movement, suna entered you. he captured your lips, muffling your screams because of him suddenly entering you. the wet squishing noises were triggering your tears. you felt disgusted with yourself that you were enjoying the stretch and the feeling of being filled up by this psycho. 

maybe in another world where you two have met differently. a perfect world where things weren’t complicated. if you two worked it out and things were different then maybe you’ve actually loved him and accepted him as your soulmate. but not in this world. not now. 

you cried when suna started moving, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. your body arched on the bed, feeling the pleasure. suna panted above you, arms caging you and his muscles contracting with every movement he does. 

suna cursed at the feeling, it felt so good. you feel so good. your wet and squishy walls sucking him so eagerly. the lewd sounds of your wetness and his constant thrusting was making him more excited. 

he stopped for a moment, pulling out from your pussy to put you in all fours and then entered you again when he moved you the way he likes. suna groaned, fucking deep into you. his tip grazing your cervix making you squeal. you can feel your orgasm coming faster because of the orgasms suna denied you earlier. you sobbed, hips unconsciously thrusting back to his dick. 

the male chuckled breathily, sneaking a hand between your legs to play with your swollen clit. you choked on a moan when you felt him massaging your clit. you let your head plop down to the mattress, arms wobbly, and all you could do was moan as your body jerking at the pleasure suna was giving you. 

“oh honey, you should see how slutty your body gets when i’m fucking you” he snickered behind you, hips never relenting with his fast and hard thrusts. 

you felt tears trail down your bruised cheeks, you don’t know if it’s because of the shame you felt earlier or the pleasure. the fast circles suna gave your clit made you whine and moan as you felt your orgasm wash over you. 

you howled at the satisfying feeling of the violent orgasm, finally cumming after the torture of not coming four times earlier. suna smirked at the way your body convulsed beneath him. 

the unwavering fucking from behind was sending you to overstimulation and suna’s fingers still rubbed down your sensitive clit. you whined and keened, drool slipping past your lips. 

“so fucked out” suna muttered and bent to lean against your back, his dick twitching in your wet walls. he then angled his thrust differently making you gasp. 

he leaned back again, staring at your sweaty discolored back, from his bites from the past fun times you two had, and the way you leaned against the pillows as your pretty face contorting into a fucked out expression, so lewd.

a large hand trailed down to the back of your neck, grabbing it and letting you lean against suna’s chest. his hand then wrapped around your dainty neck, squeezing, as he felt the vibrations of your moans. 

“pretty baby~” 

his other hand gripped your hips, stilling your wiggling around as he fucked into your harder at the newly changed angle. you whimpered at the way his thick cock reached so deep into you. 

suna moaned beside your ear, hips slowly losing his rhythm as he chased his own orgasm. his self-control snapping into something greedy and feral. he ignored your cries and fucked you so he can finally cum. 

the way he used you wasn’t supposed to feel this good. although he didn’t have any intention to make you feel good, the way his dick stuffed your full and the way his thickness stretched you was made you feel the familiar band in your stomach trying to snap once again.

he unconsciously squeezed your neck, breath heavy, when he felt his orgasm getting closer. he growled, thrusting sloppily in you, the sounds of your wetness echoed in the room along with your broken moans and rasps. you can feel him twitching inside you sending you into another orgasm.

you screamed, body arching against suna. the way your pussy squeezed him and the feeling of you cumming again triggered his own. suna moaned, painting your insides with his cum as he rode his orgasm, ignoring your whining. 

he panted, removing his hold on you and letting you hit and slump unto the bed. you whined at the action. suna pulled out of you as he admired the way your pussy was filled with his cum, dripping down to your thighs and down to the sheets. he licked his lips at the sight and leaned closer to you as if he was lured in. 

you gasped and cried when you felt his tongue wiggling around your sensitive pussy. you squeezed your eyes close tightly, body shivering at the overstimulation but suna barely paid any attention to you. he only wanted to satisfy his desires.

you gazed at the plain ceiling, dully. the soft breathing of the insane male beside you was making you grimace. he just finished fucking you or what he calls, “soulmate bonding time” but all he did was make you cry. 

the sun was up and it was probably noon now but suna normally sleeps in and today was no exception. the phone beside suna’s side on the table started buzzing, circling a little because of the vibration. you heard suna groaned, always the light sleeper. you quickly closed your eyes and hid your face in the covers and pillows. 

you felt the male shifting and after a while, he started talking in his annoyingly attractive deep voice. sleep taking a toll in his vocal cords making it all husky. you internally cursed the soulmate bond trying to make you see him in another light or some bullshit like that.

“hey, what’s up?” 

you continued to listen to the one-sided conversation as you pretend to be asleep. your heart skipped a beat when you heard suna’s words. 

“yeah, come over. i’ll introduce you to her” 

your body stiffened but tried to relax. maybe this was your chance to expose him. you have to try something, you can’t keep letting him do these things to you... 

a soft sleepy groan, the sound someone makes when they stretch, rung inside the quiet room. the covers shifted a bit and a disgustingly familiar body heat hit your skin as two large hands caressed your skin. 

“baby? i’m gonna introduce you to my friends, that’s okay right? it’s time i show off my pretty baby~” you heard him coo. you bit your lip, how can this man act like your relationship with him is normal... you then became painfully aware of the bruises and scars on your body making you self-conscious as you tried to make yourself smaller. 

“they’ll see all of these” he whispered sweetly with a dazed look on his eyes as he traced the marks that were in purple-y and reddish hues that it was too nauseating to look at but suna thought it was so beautiful on you.

suna spent all afternoon dolling you up, fixing your short dress that shows every mark he gave you. your eyes looked at your reflection. you teared up at the sight. you didn’t look like yourself anymore... 

tired eyes that sagged with dark bags under it. a deep purple bruise on your cheek. your bottom lip was cut from suna’s slap, neck decorated with hickeys and fingerprints, skin discolored.

the man behind you started whistling the godforsaken tune he always sang under his breath as he combed your hair. after fixing your hair, he let his hands down on your shoulders and looked at you through the mirror. 

“ain’t you a pretty little thing...” he muttered, admiring you. you let your gaze shift down to your lap as the male carried you to the living room. 

“now behave.” his word was final as always. do not question it nor do you go against it. or he’ll hurt you... again and again...

a loud voice cut through the quiet atmosphere in the apartment and impatient knocks was heard. “suna! open the damn door, already!” 

the dark-haired male sighed and went to the door. your heart started beating a little too fast. when his guests see you, or your state, you’ll get away from here... or maybe he’ll hurt them too... you shook your head. trying to stay positive so you can get out of this hellhole.

a tall man with golden dyed locks entered the room along with someone who looked similar to him though their hair was different. honey brown eyes lock with your tired ones, you were hopeful when you saw the confusion in his eyes. 

the man looked back to suna who stood next to him, you knew you were saved when the two identical men glared at him but then they started talking--

“geez! here i thought you’ll be gentler now that you met your soulmate!”

“suna? gentle? like hell. now where’s the food. you promised me food, suna” 

your eyes got teary as you suppressed a gasp. of course, his friends were as insane as he was. 

the golden haired male then smiled at you like there was nothing wrong. like he doesn’t see all the fucking bruises on your body, “hey, darlin’~ suna’s been beating you, huh? were you misbehaving~?” 

suna growled at the man and shoved him, “shut the fuck up, atsumu” the two started bickering like everything was normal as they ignored you...

you sniffled and turned to the light nudged from your side, you looked at the other male that entered the apartment. the man offered you some pudding as a spoon was hanging from his lips. “you look like you need it, miss” he said, his face unfazed. 

you took the pudding with shaking hands and lowered your head as the three men walked around the room, conversing with each other. 

maybe, suna’s right... life would be easier if you just accepted him. you were stuck with him now and always and his name on your skin will forever be the reminder of that. 

fate has a weird way of pairing people up and you can’t do anything about it. 

[mingiswow]

Purple | Ahn Hiejin

Pairing: Hwasa x afab!reader

Genre: Smut

Words: +1,8k

Warnings: cursing, degradation, fingering, oral (giving and receiving) use of toys, overstimulation, switch!hwasa, switch!reader (if I forget anything please let me know)

⚠ English is not my native language, so pardon me if there’s any mistake. And you can always tell me what’s wrong.

Request: hello^^ uhm idk how to ask(?) or smtg like that, but could you please do more hyejin(hwasa)? i like the last one you did!

Thank you for your request anon and thank you enjoying my work, it means a lot! Hope you didn't gave up on your request ;)

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror before sending your girlfriend a message asking when she was going to be coming home. You knew Hwasa too well to know she was going to be stuck in that studio for how long it took for her comeback to be perfect.

“In a few. Why?”

You smiled snickely reading the message and sent her a picture of your bare legs shining under the purple led lights. “Nothing… just waiting for you” you replied along with the image.

The woman felt her core tighten when she saw the picture. It was just your legs, nothing much, but she knew you had something in your mind.

And she was definitely right.

Just a few days before you had bought a new pair of lingerie and you were dying to use it. The purple lacy panties did not do a good job at hiding your vulva, the sheer material barely hiding anything. The same sheer material secured your boobs in a corset with some parts in faux leather, the piece hugging all your curves making you look even more sexy. You did a little makeup and fixed your hair just to complete the look but not caring much knowing it would be ruined in seconds.

The door of your shared apartment slammed, announcing the arrival of your girlfriend. “Y/N I swear if you are j-“ she just cut herself mid sentence when she saw your figure sat on the bed, a sly smirk on your lips.

“Hi babe” you walked towards her making sure your hips swayed exaggeratedly. “Like what you see?”

“Very much” your body stopped in front of her, her hand going straight to your lower back, pulling your bodies together. “You look like a queen in purple” her plump lips kissed the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, marking the place ever so slightly. “But don’t forget you’re my bitch”.

She pushed you against the bed, your body falling against the soft mattress. You could feel your heart starting to race in anticipation. “You liked the set?” You asked, hands going from your boobs down, slowly touching your body.

Hyejin pushed your back against the bed, legs going both sides of your body and hands grabbing yours and holding them above your head. She lowered her face inches away from yours “very much, sweetie.”

She let go of your body but you didn’t dare to move, you knew her and if you wanted to come that night you wouldn’t move. She grabbed a box from inside the closet and put it in the bed by your side, taking a long soft rope made out of satin that ironically matched your set. The woman tied your wrists together, making sure it was not too tight or holding any important nerves and secured them at the little hook on top of your headboard, the one that was strategically placed there for nights like these.

“You know that I love your surprises, sweetie” she said in her already raspy with lust voice. “But I love even more to ruin you”.

Hyejin took her clothes off, leaving her bare in front of you, body dumbly squirming in the bed, legs squeezing tight, you wanted nothing more than to touch and worship her body.

“Open your leg” she demanded and you did so, holding a whine when you felt the cold air hit your covered damp pussy. “Look at how pathetic you are, already completely wet for me and I haven’t done absolutely nothing to you” you whined at her words.

She climbed on top of you, both legs on both of your sides, bare vulva touching your covered one, the lace of the panties tickling hers. The woman saw your hands form a fist and smirked, sitting herself on top of your panties, rubbing herself, a silent moan leaving her mouth as you kept whining for not being able to touch her. She stimulated herself a little, leaving a wet patch on the panties.

“Please, Jin-ah! Please!” you didn’t know what you were pleading for, but was all that left your lips. She smiled and left your body, going to grab a little bullet vibrator on the box.

“You look gorgeous when you beg, sweet girl” she lowered herself between your legs, turning the already covered in lube toy. The buzz got you anticipating, breathing erratic, just waiting for something to happen.

With her fingers she opened your lips, teasing your entrance with the tip of the toy, making you moan with the contact. “Baby girl you’re so wet, look at that. I don’t even know why I lubed the toy” with one single motion she pushed the whole toy inside of you, making you leave a loud moan and legs to shake with the sudden stimulation after waiting for long.

The toy kept buzzing inside of you while Hwasa started to eat you out like a starved woman, she didn’t give you time to get ready or used, she started to lick and suck your clit, adding up to the stimulus coming from the toy.

Your moans started to get louder, legs starting to feel weak as she kept doing her work on your bundle of nerves.

“H-Hyejin” you tugged at the rope, back arching and eyes rolling at the pleasure.

“Are you gonna come, baby? Already?” she added her fingers to the game, circling your clit and increasing the vibration inside of you. You moaned once again, hips leaving the mattress. “You are such a sensitive whore, always coming fast” she licked a last long stripe between your folds and you felt the coil in your stomach explode, along with a throated moan, eyes going white with the feeling of the orgasm and the overstimulation on your clit. You didn’t have time to ride your orgasm when you felt the wand in you as well, the vibration of the bullet inside of you in its fastest setting.

“Cum for me again, I know you can, baby” she held the cute pink wand to your clit and started to fuck you with the bullet, pushing deeper and pulling back. The feeling too much inside of you and you could feel your swollen bud starting to burn, the pain mixing with the pleasure, and your next orgasm approaching. “Oh look at you. All fucked out, can even hold anymore. Come on, cum for me, show me how good I can make you feel”.

“F-feel… so good. Fuck!” you manage to say in a whisper before finally coming again, this time harder, literal screams leaving your mouth as you called your girlfriend.

She took the bullet out but helped you ride your orgasm with the wand, turning it off when you calmed down. Your breathing was an absolute mess, chest rising and falling fast, sweat covering your body. You realised she gave you two orgasms without even taking your lingerie set off and you chuckled at the thought.

“Can… Can you untie me? I want to touch you” she giggled at your throaty voice, probably dry from moaning and keeping it open for the whole time. She untied your hands and they immediately went to her face, bringing her to kiss you. The kiss soft and loving in contrast with the previous actions. Without her even noticing, you exchanged places, putting her under you. “Now it’s my turn” you kissed her one last time on the lips, trailing down her cheeks, chin, neck, where you made sure to leave some marks with bites and sucks, and down the valley of her breasts.

The woman that before was so dominating was melting on your touch and that was the beauty of your relationship. She could dominate you, but when it was her turn to get the pleasure she would mewl let you do absolutely everything to her.

You took your time on her breasts knowing she loved being stimulated there. And her moans just confirmed that the moment you licked her left nipple and squeezed the right one in your hand, grabbing the whole flesh bit in your hands and keeping it there while your tongue and lips played with the first. Her body was squirming under your touch, legs squeezing your torso between them, raising in the air searching for some friction.

“Y/N please…” her voice much higher pitched, eyes shut in pleasure as you bit lightly the bud. “Please just eat me out”.

You smirked at her state but decided to give in and get your face between her legs. Lips ghosting over the inner part of her tights, little moans leaving her lips, the lower being bitten hard trying to supress louder moans to come. You trailed kisses from her left thigh to her core, licking a long stripe from bottom to top. You opened her folds and licked once again, stopping at her clit and starting to stimulate it. You started to draw circles with the tip of your muscle, alternating between circles and lines, fast and slow, her hip bucking on your face, hand holding a chunk of your hair, to keep you close to her core.

You stopped devouring her just to spread her wetness in your fingers before penetrating her with two of them, a long and dragged moan leaving her mouth. The lewd sounds of your fingers entering and leaving her hole mixed with your moans while eating her out were music to her ears, only adding up to the pleasure.

You could sense she was coming closer to her high by the way her walls were squeezing your fingers and how her legs were starting to shake and close your head. “Fuck! R-right there” the words left Hwasa's mouth as soon as you added a third finger and started to pump her slower but deeper, curling them up.

You kept the movement of your tongue and lips on her clit, the woman’s hand squeezing your face against her pussy, fingers tangled in your hair, pulling them hard, you probably would have a headache by tomorrow but you couldn’t care less.

It didn’t took much longer for your girlfriend to finally reach her climax, orgasming against your mouth and fingers. Her head was thrown back, eyes rolled to almost all white, mouth hanged open as she moaned your name repeatedly adding some few ‘thank you’s’ in between.

You watched as her chest rose up and down, slowly calming down from the orgasm, the tan skin tinted with shades of red from the heat.

“Fuck Y/N” you just laughed at her and grabbed a wet cloth to clean her.

“Sorry to disturb you at work” you said and Hwasa felt the joking manner of your words.

“First of all you did it on purpose. You’re evil” you laughed and laid by her side, head on her chest as she started to play with your hair. “And second, if every time you disturb me I get to cum I will gladly let you disturb me more” you felt her lips on top of your head and smiled. “I love you and your cute ass” you giggled.

“I love you and my cute ass too”.

Requests are open

[akingdomofswordsandstories]

Unrequited pt. 2

azriel (acotar) x reader

*this is part 2! Sorry for the wait guys! I really struggled with this and low-key I don’t like it but I hope y'all do! I wanna write the scenes after this but idk how im gonna make it work lol. anyway, enjoy!

word count: 3193

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

What you hadn’t realized was that Azriel left a few minutes later, walking to your apartment to make sure you had gotten home safe.

All of a sudden he heard whimpers and labored breathing coming from the alley.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you laying on the ground and bleeding out. He felt a tug in his chest. A click. Panic instilled in him as he gently but swiftly picked you up and flew you to Madja.

“Hang on y/n, you’re so strong” he whispered

In those moments, he feared for you. Fear that was so strong. Something he had never felt before.

He rushed into the house laying you on the bed gently before he was shoved out by the Madja so she could try to save you.

Azriel alerted the others and then collapsed into a chair, sitting in silence. A tear slipped out of his eye at the thought he may have been too late to save you.

You. His mate.

Why, of all the times did the bond have to click while you were on the brink of death. In a situation where you may not make it out alive. It wasn’t fair.

He wondered if you had known. Could that be the reason why you had been distancing yourself from him? Because you didn’t expect or want him to be your mate? But if you had known you would’ve said something, right? You wouldn’t keep it a secret? So many thoughts kept racing through his head.

Could it have been because of Elain? He knew the inner circle wasn’t stupid, they all saw him drifting more and more to Elain. Could that have been why you had distanced yourself? He would be lying if he said he didn’t like Elain, but he would also be lying if he said he didn’t like you.

Your stubbornness. Your generosity. Your sense of adventure. The way you could get lost in the things you did.

Suddenly the door swung open and the others came into the room, worry written all over their faces.

Azriel could tell that Cassian and Mor had been crying on the way there.

“How bad is it?” Mor shook as she spoke. You could see the pain in her eyes. The worry she had for someone who was basically her sister.

Azriel’s expression was unreadable and he didn’t respond.

“Do you think she will make it?” Feyre asked, grief evident in her posture. “I- I don’t know” Azriel answered, “It was pretty bad,” he said quietly.

Just as he answered, Madja appeared from the other room. “She’s in rough shape, I don’t know if she’s gonna make it through the night. She lost a lot of blood.”

The room grew eerily quiet

“She’s stable for now, but I will stay here and notify you if any changes occur.”

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

Rhys, Feyre, Amren, and Elain went back to the townhouse to try and get as much rest as they could. Mor, Cassian, and Azriel decided to stay in your room with you.

Tears started slipping from Cassian’s eyes once he saw your fraile body lying in bed, barely hanging on.

“Oh mother” Mor sobbed out, a hand slipping over her mouth. She went over to the bed you were on, gently sitting on it and grabbing to hold your hand. She leaned against the headboard and watched as your chest heaved.

The trio sat in silence for some time, watching your every move, your breathes, whimpers, and shifts.

Azriel broke the silence.

“She’s my mate. All this time and I never knew.”, the sentence coming out as a whisper.

Shock was painted on Mor’s face. “Y/n’s your mate? How di-? When?”

“It clicked when I saw her body lying there.” his voice started breaking “Why did it have to happen right now. Of all the times. Why couldn’t it have happened months ago. I could’ve had more time. This never would have happened. How do I move on from this?” his voice ending on a whisper.

“All you can do is hope to mother that she has the strength to pull through.” Cassian replied softly. “You know, this whole situation is so ironic.”, he said softly to himself, lightly shaking his head.

Azriel gave Cassian a look of confusion, wondering what he was talking about, but decided to drop it for now.

“Anyway, let’s try to get some sleep and pray the morning holds better news”

Mor had dozed off, back against the headboard and hand still holding yours. Cassian was sitting in the chair, head resting on the palm of his head, it still took him a few hours to fall asleep completely. Azriel, however, couldn’t sleep. The thought of sleeping while you laid like this. He felt guilty, the feeling that he may have been too late. For the rest of the night, Azriel sat in a chair next to your bed, shrouded in darkness, hoping you would be ok.

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

Sunlight peeked through the sheer blinds over the balcony door. The faint sound of birds singing flowed through the air. Light shined onto your face, causing you to groan. Groggily, you opened your eyes, blinking to adjust to the light filling the room. Your head pounded and you winced as you shifted in bed.

“Y/n?” you heard a whisper. You mumbled in response. “Oh! Thank mother you’re alright! We were all so worried for you. Wait, let me call Madja now that you’re up.” Mor rambled on causing you to smile slightly. “CASSIAN!” she squealed “Wake up! Look! Y/n is awake!”

Cassian jumped to his feet at her shout. “Oh my god!” he ran over to your side “I was so worried, I’m so glad you’re alright” he said, taking your hand into his. “Let me go call the others, they’ve been waiting for an update.”

Soon after, the rest of the inner circle came over to your room to check in and Madja came to see how you were healing.

“That was quite the wound you had. Make sure to rest for the next two weeks. No buts, we don’t want this opening back up from stress or straining activity.”. You groaned at the thought.

“But I feel fine now, it’s not a big deal! I can go back to doing my duties in 2 days. I’ll be good as new.” you pleaded, trying to convince Madja and yourself. Before she could respond, Rhys cut in.

“You will do nothing of the sort. You just got stabbed for cauldrons sake, if i catch you trying to do anything remotely straining, i’ll lock you in your room and have Cassian stand guard in front of it”

“Fine” you grumbled out

“Now that everything is settled, i’ll be coming to check on you every few days.” Madja states before leaving

After a little more small talk was exchanged, the inner circle decided to leave you to rest a bit more, but promised they would visit you as frequently as they could.

Except, one person stayed behind.

Azriel.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Is something wrong?” you asked

After a hesitant pause his voice rang out. “We’re mates.”

You felt a blow to your chest. When did he find this out? As if Azriel had read your thoughts, he responded “Last night. After I found you.”

“Oh”

“But, Cassian said something, how it was ironic, and I can’t help but wonder how long you’ve known”

“I-, I told Cassian that we were mates yester-”

“But how long have you known y/n.” his voice quiet and sharp as a knife, as if tendrils of anger were waiting to escape

“Since the diplomatic mission Rhys sent us on”, you whispered. You could feel the tears threatening to fall from your eyes

“That was months ago and you didn’t think to tell me?” You could feel the anger in his voice

“I thought you would have figured it out sooner. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry” tears started falling from your eyes

“You knew and said nothing. Why didn’t you say anything? You should have said something” he seethed. His anger was unhinged, a drastic change for the usually calm and collected shadowsinger.

“If you didn’t want to be my mate just tell me. I’d be glad to be rid of the bond.”. As soon as he said it, he regretted it. His anger dissipated. He looked up and saw your face, tears streaming down.

“I see the way you look at Elain, Azriel. I’m not some stupid fucking female. How do you think it feels to see your mate all over someone else. I wanted to give you a chance to find your own happiness without me burdening you with this. And if we’re being honest, if you had to choose between me or her, you would choose her. I knew you would be disappointed by me. I knew you wouldn’t want to be my mate, that's why I didn’t tell you.” your anger started boiling up. “Do you think it feels good to be rejected, especially by someone you’ve loved for a long time? I didn’t want you to be disappointed that I was your mate, the person you’ve waited so long for.” your voice tapered off at the end. “Can you leave please” you said softly

“No, wait, I’m sorry I-“

“Azriel. Get out.” your voice boomed through the room.

He left reluctantly, softly shutting the door behind him. Just as the door shut, the sobs that you had been desperately trying to hold back broke free. Your body shuddered as you hugged yourself, crying yourself back to sleep.

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

During the following weeks, you avoided Azriel at all costs. As soon as he walked into the room, you would walk out. Any required conversations were kept short. You did anything you could to keep your mind off of him, cleaning, errands, hell you did it all. It certainly didn’t help your recovery, but you did what you could to keep your mind busy and off of Azriel.

“Y/n stop please. You need to rest, how many times do we have to tell you. You’re only making the healing process longer” Mor ranted on.

“I’m fine, I doubt a wound, which is almost healed by the way, would be damaged by me doing chores” you emphasized as you rolled your eyes

“Maybe not by chores, but it is affected by your stress”

A moment of silence passed.

“He feels terrible, you know, he didn’t mean to say it. He just wants to talk to you.”. Mor didn’t risk saying his name because she knew it would only anger you more.

“Well I don’t want to talk to him, or deal with him, or see him, or think about him. At all.”. You grumbled. Your heart clenched, but you brushed it aside.

“Y/n, please. I love you two and it hurts to see our family like this right now.”

“Please, can we drop it, I-“ your voice cracked

“Yeah, of course. Just… keep an open mind, maybe?”

“Yeah, ok” you looked down.

“I’ll see you later tonight then, for Rhys and Feyre’s dinner party.”

“Sounds good.”. You pressed your lips into a tight smile as you watched Mor walk off. You had definitely contemplated not going today. All of the inner circle certainly knew what happened, maybe not all the details, but still enough, which made you feel exposed. You weren’t use to having your emotions splayed out to everyone like that, and it made you too vulnerable. However, Mor had threatened to pull you to the party herself if you refused to go, so being complicit seemed like the best option.

It was just one night. You would be fine… right?

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

It was nearing 8 as you finished getting ready for the party, which started at 8:30. You were wearing an olive green silk midi dress. It wasn’t anything too fancy, but it was still very elegant. And comfortable. You were touching up as Mor arrived.

“Ah, there she is, beautiful as ever.”

“I could say the same about you, darling” you emphasized

“Are you ready to go, I heard the party is getting started, and you know I wouldn’t want to miss all the cocktails”

A laugh mused on your face. You grabbed your purse before the pair of you winnowed to the house.

You arrived at the front door, scanning the scene when you got there. It was a cozy ballroom with french doors which opened up to a huge balcony leading to the gardens. There was a huge dining table in the center with plenty of space to mingle in clusters.

You hadn’t spotted Azriel yet, a sigh of relief leaving your body. You strutted in, arms linked with Mor, grabbing a drink off the platter. You weren’t even sure who or what this party was for, but you realized you had downplayed it after spotting Helion and Tarquin. The high lords in Velaris. But that was the least of your concerns, the only thing you were focused on was avoiding Azriel.

Spotting Feyre near Helion, you breezed over to say hi.

“Ah! Y/n! Helion, i’m sure the two of you have met a few times before!” Feyre smiled out

“Yes, I do remember you! I heard about what happened, how are you feeling?” He asked

“Much better than the last few weeks, that’s for sure. Although I must say, this alcohol is certainly helping” you giggled. “Well I just wanted to pop over and say hi, but I think I’m gonna go find Cassian now. It was so nice to see you again Lord Helion, enjoy your evening.”

“You too Miss Y/L/N”

You dipped your head towards the both of them before making your way through the room to find Cassian. Where was he for caldrons sake. You hadn’t seen him in a week because he had to go up to the illyrian war camps again. Pushing your way through the crowd, you bumped into a hard chest, spilling your champagne. Cursing to yourself, you started to apologize.

“Oh mother, I’m so so sorry, clums-“. Looking up your y/e/c eyes met strong hazel ones, which were burning into your soul. You felt your throat close up, starting to feel trapped in the crowed room

No no no no. This couldn’t be happening. Not now.

You knew it was only a matter of time before you would have to talk to him, but you couldn’t do it now. Before he could say a word, you pushed past him and bolted out to the balcony to get some fresh air. You had run to the corner, near the steps to the garden, out of sight from others. Taking deep breaths, you calmed your nerves. You would be ok, everything was fine. It would be fine. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

You decided to quickly go grab another drink before returning to the serenity outside. Leaning against the balcony, you stared out at the stars and the gardens. They were so beautiful, even in the winter, you thought to yourself. You basked in the silence, your thoughts drowning you.

Some time had passed before you heard footsteps approaching you on the balcony. You knew who it was without having to turn around, but you still couldn’t bear to be around him. You turned to leave but his hand caught your wrist, holding it firmly. You could feel the scars from his hands against your skin.

“Please. I just want to talk”

“What’s there to talk about Azriel, you made your feelings clear that day.”

“Just listen, please, and then i’ll leave you alone if that’s what you wish”

You sighed, nodding your head in defeat. You couldn’t keep balling up your emotions.

He led you back to the railing of the balcony before his grasp left your wrist. You tilted your head down looking at your feet and fiddling with your thumb.

“I spent 500 years pining after Mor because I was so afraid of maybe having a chance at love. I thought it was best to love someone who would never love me back so I wouldn’t get hurt. Then I met Elain. She helped me to open up more, and helped me to believe that happiness would be possible for me, with someone. I had given up on the idea of having a mate. I didn’t think I deserved one. I was ok with that and had accepted that.”

He let out a breath as he ran his hand through his hair, light curls falling onto his forehead. “When I saw you lying there and the bond clicked, I was so mad at myself. I shut out the possibility of having a mate for so long. You were my mate. My mate. I never thought I would be able to say those words.”

He paused.

“I was mad that you may not make it. I was mad that I didn’t find you soon enough. I was mad that we didn’t have more time. I didn’t know what to do or how to feel. I Just wanted you to be ok. And then when you told me that you had known for so long, I was angry. Angry that I hadn’t realized sooner, and angry that you kept it from me because you may not have wanted me or expected me to be your mate. And I snapped. Then you said the thing that I had least expected. You said you had loved me” He chuckled dryly. “I am so sorry, y/n, so very sorry.”.

His hand reached down to cup your face. He jerked your head up so you were looking at him. “What i’m trying to say is that I love you, but I understand if you don’t feel the same way anymore”.

The air had been knocked from your lungs. Your heart swelled and your eyes watered. Before you had realized what you were doing, your lips crashed into his. His mouth fit perfectly against yours. He was a breath of fresh air with a hint of mint. Azriel’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you into his body and he smiled against your lips. It felt so right. Everything about it. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you both pulled away, breathless. Your forehead rested against his.

You whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

“I love you too”. As soon as the words left your mouth, he pulled you in for another kiss, his wings forming a cocoon around you. This one was more demanding. Passionate. A promise. You pulled away from his mouth and leaned against him, his arms wrapping around you.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Azriel said. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a small black box. “It’s your Solstice gift, I was trying to find a good time to give it to you.”, he scratched the back of his head.

You gently took it from his hand. The box had a red ribbon wrapped around. Undoing the ribbon, You opened the box to find one of the beautiful necklaces you had been admiring with Mor. “Oh my Az. Its so beautiful. I love it. How did you know?”

“I may have had my shadows follow everyone around to find out what they wanted.” he laughed out.

You smiled. “Will you help me put it on?”. Handing the dainty chain to Azriel, you brushed you hair aside. Baring your neck to him. His fingers ghosted the soft skin, clasping the necklace together. He tenderly placed a kiss next to your ear, causing butterflies to erupt.

You cleared your throat. “I think we’ve been gone long enough. Would you like to get some food, Azriel?” you smiled.

“I would love to, my darling mate.” he paused before darkly saying “I am especially excited for the part that comes after I eat.”. You lightly smacked his shoulder before the two of you made your way inside, beaming.

taglist ---

@minnie-mitzel @itsbebeyyy @preciousbabymuffins @kexrtiz @vicisbookishblog @peneflop @millianec @agentsofsheilds 

[palbabor-writes]

Shigaraki finally seeing the new recruit without her mask, finding out she’s super hot, and then Shig just basically stares at her all the time, trying to make any and every excuse for her to take off her mask. Can be NSFW, I absolutely would not mind it. Just want Shiggy to find me so attractive he’d nearly kill me to see my face again :p

hey, hi! idk if this is exactly what you had in mind but i did my best ~(˘▽˘)~ warnings: death threats, vaginal fingering

“I don’t know why you bother with the make-up. Right after you finish, you just tack that mask of yours on, covering up all of that extra ornamentation you insist on wearing. Such a waste of time,” Giran scoffs, annoyed that you’ve delayed his meeting with Tomura Shigaraki, again.

“Would it shock you if I said: I don’t give a fuck what you think?” you grin, shouldering open the bar door and dramatically ushering for the broker to enter before you.

“Hmph,” Giran snorts, rolling his eyes. He takes a long drag of his cigarette, careful to blow the smoke toward your masked face. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“Whaaat? Me? Oh my God, I’ve never, ever heard that before. And for you to say something so cutting? I’m hurt,” you mock.

“Who’s a piece of work?” Toga calls out as you close the door behind you, knocking the last of the noxious wisps of smoke away.

“Me,” you announce loudly, pacing toward one of the bar stools and seating yourself on the red leather. 

“Awe, why’s that?” Twice begins sincerely before stumbling into a quick, “Well, it’s fucking true.” 

“He doesn’t like that I took a little bit of extra time to put on make-up. Shigaraki isn’t even down here yet, so I don’t see what the big deal is,” you snark, turning your head toward Giran. He has the grace to give you a disgruntled lifting of his shoulders. 

“Well,” Spinner chimes in, “it does seem a little pointless. You are wearing a mask and not just some half mask, that thing covers your whole face.” 

“Pointless! Why, no my dear, that’s not pointless, not at all!” Compress defends, his gloved finger tutting Spinner’s hunched figure. “You never know what the next performance will call for! One must always be prepared.”

“Oooh, do you do, like, eyeliner? I looove the winged points.” Toga declares, striding over and leaning close, her big yellow eyes blinking up at you.

“Yeah. I can do winged eyeliner,” you confirm, a grin spreading across your lips. Not that any of them can see it, but they’ll likely hear it’s lift in your voice. 

“Ahhh! Teach me, teach me!” Toga claps her hands and perches on the seat next to you. “Oh wait! Before that, can I see it? Just so I can tell how good you are.”

“See? Ah, my face. Um, yeah, I guess...” you begin, fingers reaching behind your jaw, tugging the reinforced porcelain away. Toga’s eyes widen and she cups her face between her hands and hushed gasp sneaking out of her lips. 

“You’re so pretty!” she beams. You’re just about to answer her when she tilts her head past you, looking at someone over your shoulder. “Whaddaya’ think Tomura? I like her even better without the mask! You think she’s pretty too, right?”

Without thinking, you twist to look at the league’s defacto leader. He’s stepping out of that long hallway, his face obscured by the pale fingers of Father. However, he does pause, cocking his head at you. From what you can see of his expression, he does look a bit, uh, staggered. One red eye is gleaming out at you, the whites almost comically wide and he lifts a hand to his neck, fingers automatically scritching at the skin they land on. His head rises, chin jutting forward and he takes a step forward, toward you.  

Odd, you think, instinctively biting on your lower lip. It’s not like him to stare. Well, at least not that intently. Usually, he ignores your presence, treating you more like the background furniture than a living, breathing, person. Toga’s question hangs on the air and the others start to notice the shift too, their gazes passing between the two of you. You’re about to croak out some kinda response, when Shigaraki does the honors for you.  

“We have a meeting,” he rasps and something in his tone breaks the spell. His head finally turns from you and you lower your gaze, sliding your mask back over your features. 

“Awe,” Toga bemoans, hopping down from the bar stool. “Don’t think you’re getting out of helping me with my make-up!” She scolds, tossing you a swift wink before following the others as they gather around a low table. 

They don’t need you for this part so you shift off of your seat and press open the front door, grateful for the cool autumn air that hits you. You lean up against the brick siding and take a moment to steady your thumping heartbeat. That was a, um, strange interaction. 

You’d never put much thought into Shigaraki. He was quiet and there wasn’t much cause for the two of you to interact. Well, besides passing his requests on to Giran, or confirming shipment dates. Honestly, it was nigh impossible to get a read on him most days. Namely because, like you, he always had something obscuring his face.

Despite that, he did have a pleasing build, with broad shoulders, cabled neck muscles and you’d always quietly admired the snaking length of his long legs. The fact that he had white hair and startling red eyes were two other bonuses. You’ve always had a thing for guys that sported a long mop of pearlescent waves and Shigaraki was a pristine specimen in that regard.

Even so, it’s not like you knew much about the guy and you doubted that was going to change any time soon. No, he’d likely only been taken aback by your startled expression. You couldn’t help it. Once Toga had uttered his name you’d wanted to see him, so, so curious to see if he’d comment on your appearance. Would he like you? Notice you? Say something maybe? But, he hadn’t.

So, yeah. That was that. Right?   

******

A week passes before you slide into the bar again. This time of year is always busy, but you’ve carved out some time to double check on the league’s shipment requests. 

The main room of the bar is quiet, but you can see Shigaraki’s dark back, hunched over the bar top. His head tilts toward you when he hears the door close and that bright eye of his is doing that fervid glint again. His look travels from your neck to your covered face and you can swear his eye narrows when it lands on the smooth surface of your mask. 

“What?” he asks, his tone low. 

“Uh, I was coming to check on the shipments. See if there was anything extra that you guys needed.” 

“Ask Kurogiri,” he clips, that lone eye of his continuing to transverse the planes of your covered face.

“Alright. I’ll go and look for him– ”

“Why do you wear that?” Shigaraki suddenly asks. It’s a simple question, but it makes your heart start that ragged tattoo again. What is wrong with you? You’d think he’d asked for you to strip naked and lay atop the bar, what with the way your heartbeats are palpitating. What’s the big deal?  

“Wh-what?” you blankly hear yourself stammering out. You know what he’s asking. You’re not stupid. Apparently, your brain has another plan in mind and that involves, um, playing dumb? 

“Your mask,” Shigaraki supplies, his voice falling into a hushed rasp. “Why do you wear it?”

“Well, why do you wear a hand on your face?” Shit. Fuck. What? Why did you say that?

The bar stool scrapes back and you can’t help but wince at the sound, your body flinching. He’s slow as he steps forward, his fingers carefully threaded into his pockets. Once he’s a few feet from you, you let out a slow breath, praying he can’t hear the ragged thuds of your pulse.

“Take it off. The mask, that is,” Shigaraki demands and you can hear that grin, that wicked, wicked smirk that you can only imagine is parting his lips. Lips that you’ve never seen. Lips that are so close. If only he’d...oh, that’s an idea... 

“No,” you reply. Your voice is even and strong, thank God, but it doesn’t grant you an immediate reprieve. No, your defiance only makes him shift closer, his chest nearly bumping against yours.  

He’s not much taller than you. It’s likely only an inch or two difference, but it suddenly feels like he’s miles above you. Instinctively, you arch your neck, closing that tiny distance to peer up at him. He’s watching you intently and you can hear the steady, in and out, pulls of his breath. Shigaraki lets another few beats pass before he answers your challenge, leaning forward, demanding your full attention with his overwhelming proximity.

“I can just decay it off, you know. It would be easy. But, if I do that, well, you’d need to be quick. You’d have to get it off of you in seconds, because once it starts, it’s hard to predict and I’d hate for my quirk to take the rest of you with it.”

“You’d risk killing me, just to see my face again?”

“Tch. Sure. If you wanna look at it that way. It was a pretty face, (Y/N). So here’s my advice: don’t be fucking obstinate and do as I say.” 

“What if...what if I make a deal with you?”

Shigaraki barks out a laugh and the sharp angles of his lips spread past the palm of Father. “A deal? I’ll say it again, since I guess you didn’t hear me the first time, I can decay it off. I don’t need to bargain with you.” 

“Sure,” you qualify, the heavy pants of your exhales hitting the front of your mask, bathing you in wild, damp, warmth. “But I don’t like the idea of being the only one who is exposed. Why don’t you let me see you, too?”

“Me?” Shigaraki asks, his head ducking slightly, voice clipping over the word. “Why?”

“Please?” Your hands lift of their own accord, ghosting over the lines of his forearms. You can hear his breath hitch and you rejoice at the tiny sound. He’s right. He could simply raise a hand and disintegrate your mask, and possibly you, to bits, to fucking pieces, but you wanna know. You wanna see him. Besides, you’re starting to like this standoff. There’s something coiling under it and you can almost taste the line of tension that’s tightening between the two of you.  

“Only for a second,” you promise, imbuing your tone with airy light. “Come on, what are you scared of? Like you said, it wouldn’t take much for you to kill me. Might be easier even, if I’m, mmm, distracted.”

“You first,” he commands, one of his hands rising from his dark pocket, hovering beside the golden base of Father. 

“Ugh. You’re not gonna go back on your part, are you?” you tease, fingers already cupping at your jaw, peeling the heated porcelain away from your skin. 

“I might,” Shigaraki taunts, “you’ll need to take that mask off to find out, won’t you? Oh, and you can go slow. Since you seem to be partial to the theatrics of it all, why don’t you put on a nice show for me?” 

Woah.

A gasp falls from your lips before you can contain it and Shigaraki presses his advantage, his white hair falling toward you as he looms impossibly closer, that red eye glowing in the darkness of the bar. Ok, ok, you think, gulping down your nerves and that rising crest of fucking arousal that’s pricking between your legs.

Your mask is leaden in your hands, but you do your best to steady your shaking fingers. You can feel the familiar weight slipping from your chin, your cheeks, your nose, but it feels different, too. Charged and heavy. A light rush of gooseflesh bumps its way up your arms and you tremble when the mask finally slides past one half of your face. 

Without warning, Shigaraki’s hand whips forward, snatching onto your wrist. That one, all important, finger is arched away but he stills your movements with a squeeze, his eye whisking over you. He lets his gaze linger indulgently against your lips, tracing the dip and pout of your mouth. Then, he lifts his intensity to your own stare, that broad smile rising along his lips. A pleased rumble echoes from his chest and you almost reply with a moan. 

Fuck. This is...

It’s like standing too close to an open flame and your whole body feels like it’s reacting to the sting, the burn that is rising within you. “Do...do you want me to keep going?”

His reply is a silent one. Silent, but firm. That hand that’s wrapped around your wrist, that’s blazing the heat of him into you, pulls. It takes your arm and the rest of your mask with it, leaving you bare and vulnerable, completely at the mercy of that hungry eye. 

You can’t fucking breathe and you’re biting your lip so hard that you’re worried the skin is about to split open. Shigaraki is quiet but his head tilts, cascading white hair against his dark shoulder. This is ridiculous, you think, unable to snatch yourself away from him. It’s not even both eyes. He’s only looking at you with one eye. Shit, what will two eyes do? Is he going to keep his side of this? Do you even really want him to? What if...it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what it means, or what it does, you want to see him, all of him. 

After all, fair is fair.  

His fingers are still curled around your wrist and you feel each indentation of his finger pads, hot against your chilled flesh. “S-so,” you begin, your words snagging in your throat, “are you gonna hold up your end?”

You can hear his snort of amusement but he does release your hand. Once his elegant digits pass the pasty gloom of the embalmed hand on his face, you can feel your heartbeat slowing, your eyes following his motions, watching, waiting. He’s not as slow as you were, but he gives you a moment to savor, teasingly lifting the obscuring palm up and away. 

Oh. 

Your mask clatters to the floor, skittering across the wood, shattering the weighty silence. Without thinking, your hand comes up to his cheek, letting your brave thumb run across that tiny mole on his chin. He’s not handsome. No, he’s not what anyone would deem perfect, not with those cracks and scars, but fuck, he’s beautiful. It’s a shattered magnificence and you’re so glad you asked him for it.

“Didn’t say you could touch,” Shigaraki growls, his voice rasping toward that lower register. 

“It’s ok,” you reassure him, your other hand lifting to feel out the smooth and rough patches of his skin. “You can touch me, too.” 

He groans at that, those red eyes finally slipping closed. He’s uneasy at this part, his hands too broad and too jittery to really appreciate the curve of your face, but dips his head closer, his forehead pressing against yours. 

When you dance your fingers over his lips, he moves in the same moment. He’s arms cage around you and he yanks you to him, sucking, biting, kissing you until you can’t think, let alone breathe. 

The bump of the couch is a surprise and you topple backwards, splayed across the tattered cushions. You hadn’t even realized you’d taken those steps, that he’d pushed you that way. It doesn’t matter, because he’s on top of you, seconds later, his fingers everywhere, touching every part of you that he can reach.

“How are you so warm?” he asks, sliding his palms under your shirt, cupping at the roundness of your breasts. His voice is soft, awed, and you grin up at him, urging his lips back to yours. 

“What’s the matter?” you tease, worrying his chapped lip between your teeth. “What happened to all those death threats?”

Shigaraki smirks, pulling away from your mischievous bites, that long scar across his lip rising. One of his hands wanders downward, feeling for the edge of your pants, while the other encloses around your neck, clamping until you’re arching under him, eyes shut and lips parted. 

“You like that I can kill you?” he leers, finally snapping the button of your jeans open, permitting his inquisitive touch to dip into something even warmer than the skin of your breasts. He breaches the fluttering petals of your cunt and glides into your heat, hissing at the slick that pools around him. 

The hand at your throat squeezes again, demanding your answer. “Y-yes,” you gasp, hips canting up at the steady rhythm he’s building inside you. 

“Hmm,” he ponders, releasing your neck and lifting that hand in front of your face. “Then you better hope I can control myself. We’ll start with something simple. These clothes of yours should be easy enough to decay...” His thumb swipes across your budding clit and you writhe, squirming and panting. “Ah-ah,” he warns a cruel grin spreading along his lips. “Keep still. I’d hate for my hand to slip.” 

Carefully, he lowers his free hand, trailing it toward your shirt. Once four fingers are curled under the hem, he reapplies his other thumb, circling until you’re white knuckling the cushions. “Don’t forget,” he reminds you, adding the tiniest pressure to his oscillations, “one wrong move and you’re nothing but bone and gristle. Tch, it would be such poor timing too, what when we’re just starting to have so much fun together” 

Then, he lowers that deadly finger. 

notes: again, not sure if it’s exactly what you had in mind, but I had fun with it!                  

[ttuesday]

Time

Summary: After spending the night on guard duty, you make a bet with Micah to find out who can stay awake the longest.

Word Count: 2,772 

~unfortunately there’s no smut in this, it’s mainly fluff and maybe a bit of angst ? idk lmao~

8am You spent the entire night on guard duty. Bill was supposed to take over a couple of hours ago but he never did. It didn’t take long for you to realize he was after sleeping in, preferring to stay wrapped up in his warm bedroll instead of coming out to relieve you from duty. 

Finally about two goddamn hours after sunrise, John came out and offered to go on guard, mentioning to you that Bill had woken up about twenty minutes ago but decided that avoiding you was better than owning up to his mistake. 

You walked into camp and scanned the area, trying to find Bill so you could confront him. Dutch sat outside his tent, reading a book. A frustrated Arthur was playing dominoes with Tilly. And Micah sat at one of the tables, cleaning his revolvers. It seemed as though everyone was around except for Bill.

“Mic, have you seen Bill this morning?” you asked as you walked up to Micah. The man scoffed “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?”. “But it’s your name” you replied. “That ain’t my name” he snapped back, glaring at you. “But your name’s Mic-ah” you sounded it out as if you were teaching Jack a new word.

Micah rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath but he stopped when he noticed you yawn. “Awh, you all tired out from being out on watch?” he mocked. “I’m not tired” you answered bluntly.

“Sure you ain’t” Micah replied sarcastically.

The truth was you did feel a bit drained. You had just spent the whole night on guard duty, of course you were kinda tired but you weren’t going to admit that to him.

You and Micah always had a strange friendship. Half the time you were both arguing with one another, hurling insults at each other and bickering over anything and everything. But then a few hours later you would both be sitting at one of the tables, laughing together as if you were the best of friends. It was strange but it worked.

“Seriously, I’m not tired” you reinforced, knowing he didn't believe you the first time you said it “you’d be surprised how long I can stay awake”. “Is that so?” he questioned, focusing his attention on cleaning his revolvers again. A small smirk tugged at your lips “Yeah, I mean I could definitely stay awake longer than you. That wouldn’t even be a challenge”.

Why were you saying this? Well, you had only one reason. You wanted to annoy him.

Micah chuckled “Now you’re just lying to yourself”. “Or you’re underestimating me” you corrected him. You knew there was no way Micah could go longer without sleep than you. Sure, you spent the night awake but from the dark circles under Micah’s eyes, it was obvious he had a couple of restless nights recently. 

“I’d even make a bet that I could stay awake longer than you” you smirked. Micah let out a loud, arrogant laugh as he looked at you again “That’s real funny”. 

“What? You scared I’ll win?” you continued to annoy him. 

“There ain’t no way in hell you’d win” he furrowed his brow.

“You wanna bet on that?” you asked. Micah considered it for a couple of seconds, his gaze momentarily flicking down to his guns before looking at you “Fine, but don’t expect me to let you win”.

Out the corner of your eye, you saw Bill cautiously step into camp. “There he is” you muttered to yourself. Bill hesitantly glanced around, presumably trying to see where you were so he could avoid you. “Williamson!” you called, getting his attention. Bill looked at you with wide eyes before turning on his heels and walking in the opposite direction.

You started to walk after him, not about to let him get away that easily. “Hey, get back here!” you yelled. Micah chuckled as you jogged after Bill. He was confident that you would fall asleep first, especially since you just got off guard duty. There was no way you’d win this bet, Micah was sure of it.

12:30pm You sat under a tree, listening to the gentle midday breeze make its way through the branches overhead. You had been reading a book Mary-Beth recommended to you but put it down on your lap, the warm summer’s day starting to make you feel drowsy. 

“You asleep yet?” Micah suddenly appeared. You quickly opened your eyes and blinked a few times to try and quickly wake yourself up. “You know I’m not sleeping until you do” you reminded him. “You weren’t being serious about that, were you?” he questioned.

“Of course I was”.

“Huh, well you’re gonna be waiting a while,” he replied, only now starting to realize you were being deadly serious about this bet “I don’t plan on losing an easy bet”.

He leaned against the tree, taking out a pack of cigarettes and putting one between his lips. “How was your talk with Williamson?” he asked, putting the packet back into his pocket and taking out a match. “It was fine, he said he’ll do my next shift on guard duty to make it up to me. Actually, when was the last time you went on duty?” you gazed up at him.

You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Micah out there on guard. In fact, you couldn’t remember a time he was ever on guard duty.

“Why would I waste my time doing that?” Micah sneered, lifting his boot and striking the match off of it. You sighed, picking up your book again and flicking through to the page you stopped at “You can be so grumpy when you’re tired”.

“I ain’t tired” he grunted. You laughed softly, making Micah huff. “Sleep’s overrated” he said with a new found determination “and I will win this bet, make no mistake about that”. Micah stormed off, mumbling what you presumed where insults under his breath.

You admired how seriously he was starting to take the bet but you knew he wouldn’t last. Sure, you had been awake for many, many hours at this point and you were tired but Micah could’ve been awake for days by now. He never was keen on sleep and that’s what made you think this was going to be an easy bet to win. Even if you didn’t win, maybe this would encourage Micah to sleep and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, that would be a good thing too.

4pm You were helping Pearson with dinner. Normally you didn’t but he had a fight with Sadie earlier in the day so you decided to step in and give her a break. You chopped the vegetables, humming a tune to yourself.

“Well, well, well, what’re you doing?” a voice asked from behind you. You didn’t bother turning around. Micah always had a distinct voice you could recognize immediately. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you replied with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

You expected him to move around the table and into your line of sight but instead Micah peered over your shoulder, slyly placing his hand on your hip as he did. “Hmmm” was all he said as he looked down at the vegetables. You expected him to move but he stayed where he was, his chest pressing against your back and his hand subconsciously kneading your hip.

A strong scent suddenly hit your nostrils and you couldn’t help but scrunch up your nose. “Have you been drinking?” you turned your head towards him. Micah also turned his head to look at you properly, his lips curving upwards and into a smirk. “Maybe” he grinned.

You could smell the whiskey every time his hot breath hit your face. You hadn’t realized how close his face was to yours until his eyes momentarily flicked down to your lips.

It caught you by surprise, your nose nearly bumping against his. Micah didn't expect your faces to be so close either, his mouth staying slightly open though he stayed quiet. You’ve heard the phrase ‘getting lost in someone’s eyes’ but you didn’t think it was actually real. Yet there you were, unable to stop gazing into his blue eyes, as if there was a magnetic pull to him.

You had to remind yourself that you were in the middle of camp with other people nearby. You cleared your throat, tearing your eyes away from his. Micah snapped back to reality too, taking his hand off your hip and stepping away from you. 

He moved over to the other side of the table, resting his weight against it. “You, uh... you wanna have a drink with me?” he asked, glancing around to see if anyone else was nearby. You focused your attention on chopping the vegetables “I can’t, Pearson has about ten other things he needs me to do”.

Micah rolled his eyes “You know, if you keep helping ‘em all the damn time then they’ll start treating you like a workhorse”.

You laughed “As if you know anything about working and pulling your weight around camp”.

“Just tryna look out for ya,” he mumbled “you’ll thank me one day”.

“I’m sure I will,” you replied, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in your voice ”now shoo, you’re distracting me”. You scooped up the vegetables in your hands and turned your back to Micah, walking over to dump them into the pot of stew.

Micah let out a forced chuckle before he picked up a bottle of beer and made his way over to the campfire. A smirk spread across your face as you watched Micah gulp down his beer. Maybe this would be a good thing. If Micah was drinking alcohol then surely it'd make him tired fast. In a way, he was unknowingly sabotaging his chances of winning. You nodded to yourself as you got back to work, confident that you’d win.

10:35pm Your mind was in a cycle. Within an hour you’d go from feeling completely fine to absolutely exhausted. You had spent the last ten minutes in a daze, staring at the campfire with drooped eyelids. Out of all the days to make a bet with Micah to see who could stay awake longer, why did it have to be the day after your night shift? Micah sat at one of the tables, sipping on yet another beer. He looked normal… well, whatever normal is for Micah. Basically, he didn’t look tired.

“And that’s why you should never trust people that swim in the same water they fish in” announced Sean. You snapped out of your daze, raising your eyebrows as you looked at him. “What?” you asked, completely baffled by his statement. 

Sean tilted his head “Wha- have you been listening to me? I’m trying to teach you some very valuable life lessons here”.

“Yes, yes, thank you” you nodded your head, still confused but deciding to act as though you knew what the hell he was on about “that was, uh… quite something”. 

A proud smile spread across Sean’s face as he stood “See, I knew you’d find that helpful”. He lifted his arms up as he stretched. “That’s me done for the night,” he let out a big yawn “I’m robbing a stage tomorrow so I need my wits about me”. You tried not to yawn too, clenching your jaw. “Good luck with that” you replied, a small yawn managing to escape. 

With Sean heading off to bed, you realized that there weren’t a lot of people still awake. Micah got up and walked over to the beer crate, picking up another full bottle. You got up and followed him over.

“I told you, this is bet is going to go on for a while” he said, knowing it was you who was approaching. “I know,” you replied “but I don’t plan on giving up anytime soon”.

“You want a beer now?” he offered, lifting up another bottle. You thought about it for a few seconds “Nah, it’ll only make me sleepy”. “You sure?” he waved the bottle slightly “just one drink?”.

You knew Micah was already after having a plentiful amount of drink so no matter how sleepy the alcohol made you feel, it would have the same effects on him but sooner. “Ok,” you took the beer “but just one”.

2:23am You told yourself you were only going to have one beer and you meant that, you really did. But you were having a good time, so one beer turned to two beers, and then three, and then four. 

You weren’t sure what number you were on now but the good news is that you weren’t feeling tired. You were definitely drunk but not tired.

At some point, you both decided to go for a walk along the outskirts of camp. You knew Micah must’ve felt sleepy since he was the one who suggested it, presumably to try and keep himself awake. The two of you strolled through the woods, chatting and laughing until eventually you decided to sit down by a tree. Micah sat down next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders without a second thought to the action.

He was warm and surprisingly comfortable as you shuffled closer to him. You could stay there forever. You’re breathing started to slow as each blink seemed to last longer. 

“So what do you want if you win this bet?” Micah asked, a relaxed smile on his face. You blinked again, this time keeping your eyes closed “Haven’t decided yet. Why, how much do you want if you win?”. You presumed Micah wanted cash if he won.

“I, um… I wasn’t going to ask for money” he revealed, his breathing getting heavier.

“What were you going to ask for?" you asked.

He hesitated, debating whether to say it or not. “I dunno…” he stalled “maybe, uh…”.

You waited patiently, too relaxed to care about how long it would take him to say it. “Maybe something like a… a kiss” he said shyly before he immediately began to backtrack “but money sound’s good".

“You… you wanted a kiss?” you opened your eyes and sat up straight to look at him. For once, Micah actually looked nervous. The flirtatious, confident front he usually portrays had completely vanished. He wasn’t sure what to say. Slowly, a smile spread across your face. “Yeah, that could be arranged” you giggled.

Micah nodded, a goofy smile on his face. You settled against Micah again, resting your head by his chest. You could hear his heart rapidly beating. “but you gotta win to get your reward” you reminded him. He chuckled, holding you close to him “And I intend to”.

“I have to admit, I thought I would’ve won this by now” you sighed, closing your eyes again. “That's not gonna happen” Micah muttered, resting his head on top of yours.

You hated how your mind wandered into thinking that this is what life would be like if you were dating Micah. You liked being this close to him, feeling his warmth and finding his breathing relaxing. Micah was an awful man yet for some reason, you found comfort in him.

You could feel yourself drifting off to sleep, finding it harder and harder to open your eyes. Just as you were about to give in to the exhaustion, you heard a noise.

It sounded like a snort and it came from the man next to you.

You opened your eyes and blinked a few times, trying to get your brain to work. Trying your best not to disturb Micah, you moved your head up to look at him. A massive smile spread across your face as you realized Micah had drifted off to sleep.

You couldn’t believe it, he was actually sleeping. He let out another snort as he nuzzled his head closer to yours. You wanted to get up and celebrate but you also didn’t want to wake him up.

You knew in the morning he was going to argue that he didn’t fall asleep. There was no way he was going to admit that you won the bet. You wondered what you’d get for winning. A part of you wanted to ask him to buy you a drink at the saloon in town, or pay for dinner for the both of you. Either way, you had won and there was no way you were going to let him forget about this for a long, long time.