#this implies he was briefly just in his underwear in front of everyone in the lab while he got changed

[coockie8]

thinking about the scene in Reign Storm where Vlad is helping them finish building the Ecto Skeleton, and in the scene where he's building it, he's in this like pinkish button down and overalls, but then in the next scene, he's putting his suit jacket on, and he's back in the clothes he usually wears.

This implies that he just... Willingly got fully changed right there in the lab in front of everyone and I love that so much lol The whole Fenton clan (minus maybe Jazz I can't remember if she's there) just saw Vlad in his underwear in their lab at least once and Danny like actively watched, 'cause Vlad was still getting changed when Danny taunts him about how much Jack and Maddie love each other 😂

[obx-saltlife]

French Inhale

summary: you and jj share an intimate moment (and then some) after a particularly instense smoking sesh.

warnings: smoking (weed and a lot), smut, underage drinking and smoking, cursing. I guess it’s a friends to lovers kind of thing, it’s implied anyway.

2.1K, JJ x reader (contains smut)

“That was hot,” JJ Maybank laughed through his words.

His once bright eyes were now hooded and carried that sort of trademark redness you’ve come to know very well. Everyone in the makeshift circle waited patiently as you took another drag from the blunt in front of you. You kept the smoke in your cheeks for a brief second. Your mouth opened at one corner slightly; the thick, white, smoke making its way out slowly through the small opening. Your eyes closed and you inhaled through your nose, pulling off the perfect French Inhale once again. It’d been a while since you’d sat down with the rest of the Pogues to enjoy a blunt or two but it seemed like the perfect time to do it again. Summer was just beginning and if the conversations before this little get-together were anything to go by, you were seriously considering sticking to John B’s idea of having a “good time, all the time”.

The party at The Boneyard had long since thinned out, with most of the Kooks gone on to find something else; another party, probably and the Tourons too drunk to do much of anything. You and the Pogues made your way back to The Chateau, trying to burn off some more of the party energy still coursing through your veins. That’s how you ended up in the makeshift circle in the first place. It’d definitely been a while since you’d let completely loose and tonight felt like as good a night as any. Joining Kie, John B, Sarah, JJ and Pope as they passed the blunt around just felt like second nature.

The blunt made its way around the circle once more. You took a long drag this time, inhaling it deep in your lungs as you closed your eyes once again. You passed it to your left as you felt the smoke swirling around in your chest and leeching to your bloodstream. Rocking your head back, with a lazy laugh, you exhaled, blowing a large cloud of smoke into the night.

When you looked back around the people gathered in front of you, John B and Sarah were mouth to mouth; the smoke passing between them in an intimate exchange. You couldn’t look away, the mix of the intimate display in front of you and the beginning of the drug in your system made you tingle all over.

You felt eyes on you, a little across the way. It felt different than the regular paranoia that usually accompanied your smoking adventures. Across the circle, JJ’s eyes locked with yours. He didn’t dare look away, almost proud that he had been caught staring. A small smirk spread on his lips. He was passed the blunt once more and he took it expertly between his fingers, his blue eyes still locked on yours. He looked to the ground as he inhaled, the cherry burning bright at the end of the dwindling stick in his hand. You were mesmerized, honestly, maybe you’d blame it on the THC taking over but the yearning for a lazy fuck increased deep in the pit of your stomach.

You licked your lips, taken over almost instantly by the estranged feeling of cottonmouth that you hadn’t missed at all. You got up, finding your footing in between some strewn branches and headed towards the porch to try to find a semblance of a drink in the forgotten cooler. You could hear the group behind you calling you back but your reflexes were dull and you didn’t bother turning around.

“JJ, come back!” Kie’s voice sounded hazy but easy to make out.

“Yeah dude, don’t hog the spliff” John B’s voice whined shortly after.

You couldn’t really find the cooler you were so sure had been on the porch hours prior as you stumbled up the steps and into the dimly lit house. Closing the door to the empty fridge, you pressed your back against it and relished in the cooling temperature in comparison to the rest of your body. You shut your eyes for a second before feeling someone’s presence in front of you.

Opening one eye lazily, you smiled as JJ stood in front of you. His lips stuck in a smirk after he took another drag off the blunt, blowing it out to the side. His free hand caught your chin, pulling your jaw up and holding the blunt to your lips. His eyes focused intently as you took a drag, his lips almost instantly pulling into a lopsided, hazy smile.

When you were done, JJ brought it back to his own lips. The cherry still burning brightly, his chest rising. His index finger propped your chin before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, wasting no time before coaxing them open. The smoke moved from his mouth to yours and you breathed in deeply, exchanging it between your bodies. Something about the exchange felt incredibly intimate. More intimate than sex.

JJ pulled back, a proud smile stuck on his lips as you casually exhaled. You smiled nervously in return, unsure of the current of unresolved sexual tension between you.

Truth is, you and JJ had been pushing and pulling at each other for a while now. Kiara’s dumb ‘no Pogue on Pogue macking’ rule going completely ignored. Neither you nor JJ were relationship-types but you did enjoy having a good time. And you always had a good time, together. This time though, it felt different. Maybe the THC was working its magic deep in your brain. Bringing things you had forgotten were buried deep inside.

Like that time you thought you were actually in love with JJ. You had compartmentalized that easily -- you were kids, naïve and without a care in the world. Did you even really know what love was? Life is more complicated than that, people change and grow up and realize life isn’t that easy. Maybe instead of the THC making you realize your long lost feelings for JJ, it was just making you go deep inside your head.

You shook your thoughts out of the funk and looked back into JJ’s blue eyes.

“Come to my room?” JJ asked quietly, his fingers playing with yours at your side. You nodded silently, his hand grasping yours as he led you through the narrow hallway and into John B’s guest room (or JJ’s room really, since he was there so much). He finished the blunt on his own as you walked, exhaling expertly through his nose without even a flinch.

JJ’s pace slowed as you made your way inside and he followed. He closed the door and you looked around, appreciating the trinkets strewn around and things littering the walls. It all seemed to clash but fit together somehow at the same time. You loved how every corner of this room seemed to describe JJ to a tee. It had always been that way.

No words were exchanged and none were really needed as JJ’s hands did all the talking. He tugged at the hem of your shirt as his lips dipped to the corner of your jaw. You pulled a fistful of his shirt into your hand, pulling him close. Every touch was gradually sinking in and registering in your mind.

You didn’t know how he knew but he was so in tune with your need to be touched; how much you needed to be touched and he seemed more than ready to ease every aching want you had.

JJ moved backwards, pulling you along with him as he sank to sit on the bed. He pulled you onto his lap, your legs on either side of him as your lips slowly played together. There was no rush, just ease and a very casual flow. A little different than times before; casual corners and rushed motions were more you and JJ’s thing. You could feel JJ’s hands covering almost the entirety of your back, feeling the curves of your spine. JJ’s fingers traced lightly over the top, skimming the ties on your bikini from stop your cut off tank top, sending chills across your skin and up your neck into your scalp, making you tingle everywhere.

Finally, in one swift move, he slipped the shirt over your head, the chilly air in the room, riddling your skin with goosebumps. JJ paid no mind, peeling off his already mostly unbuttoned shirt he had been wearing and connecting your lips again. He shifted his weight to the side, his hands leaving your body briefly, reaching into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulling out a pack of cigarettes and his Zippo lighter.

You sat patiently in his lap as he pulled another carefully rolled joint from the pack, tossing the box aside. JJ held up his hand to block the nonexistent wind. The aroma filled the space around you, something that was lacking before since you had been smoking outside. The smoke was warm and as intoxicating as ever. The joint hung loosely from his lips as he pulled a long drag from it, his hands working on the clasp of your shorts.

You stood from his lap, releasing yourself from the denim confines of your shorts. JJ did the same, ditching his cargo shorts and nonchalantly ashing on the floor as he did so. He moved to the center of the bed, lying back on the pillows and finding his forgotten cellphone amongst the sea of blankets on top. He hit a few buttons, tossing it on the table beside the bed before the soft sounds of Slightly Stoopid began to play again, waking your senses. You crawled across the bed, placing your legs on either side of his hips and taking the joint from his hands before taking a long drag.

Your eyes shut as the smoke made its way through your lungs and back out slowly. With his hands free, JJ took the time to slide his boxers off. You could hear the foil packet in his hands before it crinkled as he rolled it over himself with an impatient sigh. Sliding your underwear aside, the tip of his length firmly brushed over your center. It was clear how hard he was but you had no idea what to expect as JJ slowly slid himself into you, seemingly never stopping, moving ever so slowly.

You lowered yourself onto him completely, rocking back up and taking on the burden of the movement. He took the joint back from you and you could hear the quiet burning as he inhaled from it as the music lulled and paused briefly. You knew he was watching you as you moved; your head laid back and your hair falling across your shoulders and over your back. You relished in his masculinity, the contours of his roughly sculpted muscles. It all felt so natural, so casual, so lazy, yet you didn’t want (or need) anything more from him. You didn’t need sweet nothings whispered in your ear, or a loving touch, at least not right at that moment. It was nothing more than a stoned fuck and it felt sweet in all the right ways.

It felt like an eternity and as you slowly continued to raise and lower yourself, you could feel him exhale as the air moved across your skin, chilling your nerves. You were so relaxed; you could have easily fallen asleep had it not been for the dull throbbing that was now escalating in your core. JJ’s hands landed on your hips, idly moving you faster. You looked down to him, the smoke swirling from the joint he held softly between his lips.

His brows furrowed together, the muscles in his jaw flexing as his hips began to move to meet yours. It was growing tense, eager. You let out a loud moan, your hands pressing to his chest to stabilize yourself as JJ began to pound out his desire, desperate for relief. In one fluid motion, he rose from the pillows and took you by the waist, rolling you over so that he was on top. In between your thighs, JJ’s pace never slowed.

Your back arched and your legs wrapped tightly around JJ’s waist. Your hands gripped tightly at the bed sheets as his thrusts sent you over the edge, your muscles clenching around him as he crashed into his own orgasm. The smoke and the hormones mixed in your cloudy minds to leave you in an erotic state of bliss.

JJ collapsed on the bed besides her, his chest heaving as he tossed the roach onto an ashtray on the bedside table. You lay silently for a moment before you breathing settled and you moved to collect your discarded clothes.

It hit you then that almost no words had been exchanged between them since the left the kitchen. And it was definitely rare but you didn’t really have a problem with it. This had been more than what you wanted and much better too.

JJ’s gruff voice broke the still air.

“C’mon, babe. Stay?”

[dholwrites]

Work Out the Knots

Notes: Commission piece for @fuu9266. This has the ending to Shadowbringers! Relationship: Thancred Waters x WoL OC [Fuujin Lorelei] Rating: E Summary: After the battle against Hades, Fuujin and the Scions return back to the Crystarium where a party is being thrown to celebrate the return of the night. Thancred slips into her room for a massage and more.

✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐

Thancred takes a long sip of the cold water in his cup as he eyes the other party-goers. A round of cheers erupt from nearby patrons, clinking their mugs before emptying them all in one go. Whoops quickly follow as they watch a dwarf drink another blond-haired hume under the table. It’s the first celebration to mark the beginning of a new era, and the leader of the Crystarium is quick to suggest a party to welcome the night and the heroes’ safe return. Drinks and food are served around the clock as everyone takes advantage of the Exarch’s generosity to eat and drink as if they’ve been given a new life.

As much as he wishes to join them, Urianger’s constant presence has become more than a thorn in his side. The elezen had threatened to share every detail of his past endeavors if he so much as eyed a goblet of ale for a moment too long. How Urianger managed to get his hands on certain details will have to remain a mystery; one he doesn’t want to unravel, at least not tonight. Especially when he is keen on making sure that Fuujin and Ryne don't hear any of his past escapades. While Fuujin knows of some of the things he’s done in the past, now that he’s in a committed relationship with her, he wants to avoid the topic as much as possible.

The hyur searches the area for his favorite miqo’te, only to realize that he can’t even catch a strand of her black hair. He lets out a small huff when he can't spot her at all and settles deeper into his seat. Both Urianger and Y’shtola are quick to pick up his change of demeanor. Any of the Scions could tell how smitten he is with his mood bouncing up and down depending on how long their Warrior has been away. Thancred would become snappy and anxious when Fuujin doesn’t check in right away.

“She is taking the younglings back into their room, Thancred.” ‘Master Matoya’ peeks at him over the brim of her teacup. There is an amused twinkle in her eyes before she glances in the direction of the city’s personal suites. It isn’t hard for him to figure out what she is implying.

He could feel his face grow warmer and warmer as Y’shtola snickered under her breath at his suffering. Deciding he’s too tired to deal with any more teasing, he downs the rest of his cup and turns to leave before the other two could utter a word. “I’ll see myself off.”

Urianger only lets out a sigh as he watches their friend march towards the suits before turning to Y’shtola. “Privy, thus thou provth he?’”

She only flashes him a mischievous look before pouring herself another cup. “It’s no longer our problem.”

-

Instead of making his way to his own room, his feet brought him to her front door. Thancred raised his hand to knock, hesitating just a moment when he could hear some shuffling inside. He barely managed to get three knocks in before the door swung open to reveal Fuujin, still dressed in her Thavarnian outfit with the bells, gold chains, and arm wrappings removed. It’s an outfit that reminds him of the performers that he’d seen in Limsa.

“Finally had enough for today?” She teased with a smile before stepping aside for him to enter, the miqo’te returning to put away her gear for the day.

“You wouldn’t believe it.”

Thancred lets out an annoyed huff as he nudged the door shut behind him, his eyes never once leaving her form. He’s seen her well over a dozen times in her white dress, not to mention without it, but the effect it has is still prominent. He wishes to reach out, to trace his hand across her back and along her waist, to feel her warmth under his palm; to feel her tan skin pressed against his, her black hair between his fingers, and see her sky-blue eyes grow hazy with pleasure. His own eyes could never stray far from her before they’re naturally pulled back to her form, like a moth drawn to a flame. She entranced him.

He starts to toss off his own gear, setting his cherished gunblade on the table and shrugging off his long coat to hang off the back of a chair. A groan slips out as the heaviness slips off his shoulders. He rolls them in an attempt to relieve himself of some of the pain, not to mention her burning gaze boring into his back.

“Liking what you see, Fuu?” He flexes his arms for good measure despite his muscles protesting, yet the laugh and smile he spots from the corner of his eye is more than enough to make up for it.

“You seem a little tense.” Her fingers press against his shoulders, feeling the knots that have formed there.

“My back is killing me, but nothing a hot shower and a good night’s rest can’t solve.” He spins on his heel and takes her hand, planting a kiss on the back of it. His mischievous grin is met with her own shy smile.

Fuujin taps his chin with her free hand, her head tilting over towards the bed. “Strip and lay down.”

“My dear, Fuujin, I thought you’d never ask.” He received a light slap on his side for his comment. Still, he easily tugs his shirt over his head, giving her a clear view of the muscle he’s built since taking up the gunblade. Thancred falls on his stomach and onto the bed without another word. Fuujin forces herself to look away from his figure to pull out a vial of massage oil, its lavender scent starting to fill the air as she pours the contents onto her hands, spreading the coat around to fully warm it up. She turns back towards him, taking a moment to pause at the sight before her.

The gentle light of the moon shone over every dip and curve of his muscle, highlighting the worn battle scars that he has accumulated over the years as a gunbreaker. His arms are tucked underneath the pillow holding up his chin as Fuujin slowly crawls on top of him, gently balancing herself on his lower back.

Everything slowly melts away as she slathers the excess lotion on him. Her thumbs dig into the tense muscle between his shoulder blades before she flattens her hands and begins rubbing the bones of Thancred’s spine. Underneath her, his hand claws into the bed sheets.

“Twelve, that feels good .” She could feel the deep groan under her palm as she continued to work on his back. Thancred’s shoulders rise and fall with each heavy breath, steady moans slipping out in between. The soothing smell of lavender does little to cool the warmth pooling at the pit of her stomach, like dipping heated metal into water .

Her blue eyes linger at the skin covered by the ends of his hair, and she couldn’t resist her temptation any longer. Leaning forward, with hands pressed firmly against his sides, she placed a hot kiss against the back of his neck. Her ears pick up on the hum of appreciation reverberating in the air, and it sends a shiver down her spine.

Does he know what he’s doing to her?

The air in the room grows warmer with every press of her thumb. Fuujin could not help but lean forward to press her lips against his shoulder blades. She briefly felt him stiffen up before all his tension melted away like ice on a summer’s day. Not hearing any protest, she kisses him again. Over and over, the miqo’te showers him with soft, light kisses as her hands work down into his lower back.

The moan that he let out when she touched a weak spot went straight through her, her own smallclothes growing wet with excitement. She stops just short of the waist of his shorts, instead gripping his sides and kissing up his neck and cheek until she reaches his lips. Her fingers slip past the band and draw circles on his skin as he pushes himself onto his elbows to return the kiss in full force. His tongue dipped between the seam of her lips, touching her own and stealing her breath in a single motion. He took her hand, not caring about the oil that sticks to her skin, his digits gliding across her palm and coating his own with the floral scent.

Thancred nudged her up to her knees before rolling over and laying his back flat against the bed. His tent brushes against her underwear, dragging tentatively across her smalls and sends shivers from her spine to her tail. With his oil slicked finger, he pulls aside her panties and lightly strokes her folds; the sensation making her entire body shudder.

The oil mixes with her juices as the hyur toys with her clit, his index finger purposely tracing around it and ghosting over the nerves with practiced ease that leaves her tingling and wanting. Thancred stares at her face as he continues to tease, taking in the sight of her red cheeks, her gasps, and her fluttering ears. It’s adorable how her body twitches at each motion. He wants to pull her down for a kiss but decides to refrain. It's been a while since he got to see the pleasure written across her face.

He traced painstakingly lower, circling around her entrance one final time before dipping his fingers inside. Thancred’s other hand trailed down to run along the planes of her back before rubbing the fur at the base of her tail. He watched as Fuujin’s face twisted and her mouth fell open to let out a short moan. He has every intention of getting her to sing longer and pull himself up; his lips pressing against her neck as he fondles her tail. His other hand traveled along her side and cupped her breast. A sudden gasp escapes the miqo’te as he rubs her nipple, and her nails dig into his skin.

“T-Thancred,” Fuujin mutters breathlessly.

The hyur could feel his cock twitch at the sound of his name on her lips, and his smallclothes were quickly becoming far, far too tight. He has barely been touched and already she is getting his blood pumping. She is too sultry for her own good.

He pulls away from her neck, their gazes locking with each other as she reopens her sky colored eyes. Fuujin wraps her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself against him and leaving no room to breathe without feeling the other. Their lips crash together in a kiss even hotter than before, with her wasting little time to brush her tongue between his lips and into his mouth. Thancred wraps both of his arms around her waist to stabilize her, and she took the chance to grind her hips against his hardening cock.

“Fuu,” Thancred says between a series of tiny kisses, “I’ll buy you a new pair later.”

A sharp tear echoes through the room as Thancred ripped through the band of her smallclothes like it’s nothing more than paper. The remains are tossed off to the side with little care by the time she realizes what is happening. She knows she should be angry at him for pulling something like that, but it only turned her on even more knowing that he’s as desperate as she is to fuck.

Fuujin glares and smacks his arm. Her cheeks had felt warm already, but now they burn from embarrassment. He added to her shame by chuckling as he tugs down his shorts and pulls his aching member free, his hand spreading the mix of her juices and oil onto his length as he strokes himself from base to tip.

“Don’t pretend as if you didn’t enjoy that,” he teases her while dragging the head against her lower lips. She could feel him perfectly position it at her entrance, her body already quivering with anticipation.

Deciding that he’s taking too long, she pushes to make the first move. Fuujin slowly lowers herself onto his cock, digging her nails into his shoulder to prevent him from moving; the hitch in his breath setting off a small rush of excitement. Ilm by thick ilm, she feels herself stretch to take him in one go. No matter how many times they’ve fucked, she could never get over how full he made her. Thancred’s hand settles on her waist, stroking her smooth skin to soothe her.

Fuuhjin took a moment to calm her nerves, then slowly rolled her hips against his. She drank up every drop of pleasure like water, using it as fuel to push her body to keep going. Her fingers moved from his shoulder to his chest, feeling every flex of his muscles as he restrained himself and the pounding of his heartbeat. Thancred, in turn, didn’t leave any patch of skin uncarressed; holding onto her hips, stroking her thigh, or squeezing her breast. His hands never leaving her as she rode him towards sweet release.

“Keep going, Fuu, you look amazing from down here.” She could feel the rumbling of his voice under her palms. One of his own reached up to play with her chest while the other one urged her to pick up the pace. Impatient, he grabs a hold of her hip and thrusts upward as she comes down, pulling out as she rises up only to bury himself to the hilt again.

Thancred pulls her down and plants a kiss at the top of her head as his pace picks up. Fuujin wraps her arms around his neck to brace herself, with one hand digging into his luscious white locks. Her ears and tail flicker and wiggle in the air at the onslaught of pleasure, her long silky strands tickling his neck and skin like feathers. She tips back her head and chants his name to the ceiling, her legs trembling, fingers knotting into his hair. Thancred wraps his arms around her waist to prevent her from moving far.

He moans into her sensitive ears, sending signals through her entire body, making her feel like a time bomb. Any moment she would come undone, her tail curling and uncurling in the air behind her.

“T-twelves,” Fuujin muttered, her entire body shivering at his groans, “why are you doing that in my ear?”

“Because,” Thancred whispered into her ear in a deep husky tone, “I want you to hear what you do to me.”

Her breath hitched, eyes widened, and ears stood at attention at his words. It gave him easier access to continue his onslaught, his lip lightly gazing at the length of her ear as he lets out a powerful moan. Her own body betrays her as the vibration sends another rush of pleasure that has her curling her toes.

“Now, no more talking,” Thancred growls into her ear, a sharp roll of his hips knocking the breath out of her. “The only thing I want to hear from you is my name .”

With that command, he gripped her hips and pulled out until it was only the tip inside. His head brushes against a bundle of nerves that sends waves of pleasure through her entire body, Fuujin’s back arching and she nearly chokes on her own breath. Her vision goes hazy with desire but she attempts to look at his face. With a swift thrust, he hits the spot again and his own veins fill with liquid fire as he watches the dancer’s body squirm to the overwhelming pleasure.

“Than- Than -” she barely gets her words out before another thrust throws off her train of thought. Every blissful moan encouraged his craving to see her come undone on his cock.

“Sing a little louder, my dear Fuu.” Thancred licks his lips, his eyes dark with lust as the command slips out as easily as he breathes. He removes his hand from her waist to pinch her clit, her back arching further as he stroked the bundle of nerves with practiced ease. He knows her body almost as well as she does; what motions make her gasp, what angle would bring her mind to a halt, and how to make her body tense under his manipulation. All she needs is him - his scent and warmth and the release .

Pleasure ripples through him as he feels her body tighten around him, and he lets out a low moan as he realizes that he is near his breaking point. He tugs her back down towards him, her face pressed into the crook of his neck as he buries his own in her hair. Her body trembles as the vibration of his low, silvery voice fills her ears and sets off every single sensitive nerve she has.

With a final thrust, Thancred fully buried himself inside her, his cock throbbed as he came inside her tight heat. The warmth sent a shiver up her spine. Her chest presses against the hyur as she cums as well; crying out a slurred version of his name.

A quiet moment passes as the two catch their breath and come down from their high. Thancred recovers first and moves to get them settled into the bed, slowly pulling out and laying her down beside him and wrapping a protective arm around her waist. The scent of sex and lavender have taken over the room; anyone would immediately know what they had been up to, but who would attempt to disrupt the hero from her rest after all that she had done?

The muffled cheering and fireworks sound in the distance outside the window. Wordlessly, their eyes grew heavy with sleep. Thancred buries his head in the space on her shoulder, inhaling her sweet scent before planting a kiss on her skin. Her tail unconsciously curling around his waist did not go unnoticed by him.

“Sleep well, my dear. You deserve it. ”

[calpalirwin]

Hush, Hush

Request: Could you please write a Michael x Reader based on the song Hush Hush by The Band CAMINO? Where they have a secret relationship. Maybe include a scene where the guys find out because read accidentally LEFT THEIR FRIGGIN UNDERWEAR

Content: Heavily implied smut

Word Count: 3.6k

And away, and away we go!

__

Y/N spotted Calum easily as he tried to look as inconspicuous as possible in a plain black t-shirt, blue jeans, a hat covering his head of curls, and sunglasses pushed up on his face. “Hey, you! How was your flight?” he greeted as he wrapped his cousin in a hug.

“Long, but worth it to be here,” she grinned, returning the embrace with the same amount of warmth as the bright LA sun outside. “You fuckin’ take a page from the Avengers? You know this disguise is shit, right?”

“If I learned one thing from all the covid nonsense, it’s actually that this shit disguise works surprisingly well.”

“In covid we covered the lower half of our faces, ya dingus.”

“Works the same either way. Half the face covered is half the face covered. You check any bags?”

“Nah, I crammed as much shit as I could in my carry on and backpack.”

“Sweet, let’s roll.”

“So, you like living here in LA?” she asked as they made their way to his car.

“Yeah. Kinda hard not to. Nice weather. Good people. So, I know you’re here to look at houses and stuff, but Mum didn’t explain to me why you’re moving here. She was just like ‘pick up your cousin from the airport and be good’ like I was just gonna leave you to fend for yourself or some shit.”

Y/N laughed. “While I definitely appreciate you picking me up, and letting me stay with you this week, I’ll kick your ass if you start babying me. You may be taller, but I’m still older than you.”

Calum laughed along. “That’s what I told Mum but, she wouldn’t listen. I was like Y/N’s a big girl, she doesn’t need a chaperone.”

“That’s Aunt Joy for ya though. She misses you. We all do. Well except me, of course.”

Calum snorted as he clicked the unlock button on his car. “Yeah, I miss everyone but you too, so I guess we’re even. But what was it that sent you here?”

“Job relocation. Well… sort of.”

“What do you mean sort of?” he asked as he placed her suitcase in the backseat, the backpack following. 

“So I’ve been doing a lot more freelance work since my job’s been fucking me around since day one. And I finally said fuck it, I’m gonna make my own business. So while I’m here to look at apartments and shit, I’m also here to scout out business locations looking to rent out space.”

“Well shit, why didn’t you tell me before now?” he asked as they got in the front seat. “Moving’s expensive. Starting your own business is expensive. Living here is expensive. Doing all that shit at once? Geez, you a secret millionaire?”

“You’re not the only successful one, Cal. I make good money.”

“You know I don’t mean it like that. I just meant that you could’ve told me what was really going on. So that way I could’ve put you in contact with Andy and Sarah already, cuz they probably know some people who can help you out. Hell you can help them out by freelancing for them. They work too damn hard, they could definitely use the extra help. Plus you’re fuckin good at what you do. And I could’ve also told you that you don’t need to bother looking for a place cuz you could just stay with me.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you, Cal. I wanna do this on my own.”

“I’m not saying you gotta live with me forever, Y/N. I’m just saying you can while you focus all your energy and resources on what really matters which is getting your business up and running. Plus, I know you’re gonna pick like the most cheapass, run-down studio apartment anyway because you’re gonna justify it by saying you’re just there to sleep anyway. So why spend any money on some shitty apartment when you can just stay at my nice, nonshitty house for free instead? I mean, you’re only there to sleep basically right?”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. She hated that he knew her so well. “There’s no way you’re letting this go until I agree to move in with you, is there?”

“Not a one.”

“Fine. But only until I get my business off the ground. Once that’s up and running, I’m getting my own place.”

“A decent place,” Calum pushed.

“A decent place,” she agreed with an eye roll. “I’ll even splurge for an actual bedroom.”

“You got yourself a deal.”

“You got yourself a roommate.”

~~~

Michael couldn’t keep his eyes off Y/N. He knew he wasn’t supposed to stare. A.) Staring was rude, and he wasn’t a rude person. And B.) Calum was his best and longest friend, and Y/N was his cousin which made her inexplicably off-limits. But there was something so tempting about wanting someone you knew you couldn’t have. And it didn’t help matters that every time he caught himself looking her way, she was already watching him.

“I’m Michael,” he introduced stupidly when they both ended up in Calum’s kitchen by themselves. 

“I know,” she grinned. “We already did introductions, remember?”

His cheeks flushed pink, and one of his hands rubbed at the back of his neck. “Right. Yeah. H-how long did you say you’re staying with Cal for?”

“Well originally I was only gonna be here for a week while I sorted things out. But Cal’s… strong-willed about things. So I’m staying with him indefinitely while I get sorted instead.”

“Mmm, right. With your new business and everything. So you’ll be around quite a bit, huh?”

“Loads,” she nodded with a flirtatious smile. “And I’ll probably be lonely. I don’t really know anyone here besides Cal. His friends seem nice though. And one of them’s really cute.”

Michael breathed deeply, and even from the small distance between them she could feel his hot exhale on her skin. “We can’t,” he sighed in defeat.

“Says who?”

“Says like every bro code.”

“Are you saying you don’t want this as badly as I do?”

“Want it so bad,” Michael admitted, his voice a low whimper. His green eyes looked around. While nobody from outside was peering in, they were still in everyone’s line of sight if someone happened to glance their way. Which meant that they only had two options, neither of which led to what they really wanted which was to slink away from the party without raising suspicion. “But we can’t. Not now, anyway. Not here.”

“Right. I don’t want to make anything weird between you and Cal. Or between me and him. And we don’t even know what we are. Maybe this is just an infatuation that’ll run its course if we don’t play into it.”

“Maybe it’s not,” Michael countered. “God, I hope it’s not, cuz I really want to play into this.”

“Me too. God, I hope you’re right.”

“Hope he’s right about what?” Calum asked, as he came in through the sliding glass door. 

“Uh, my business!” she blurted. “Mike was just telling me that he thinks it’s gonna do really well here cuz I’ll be able to get more connections with your help and stuff.”

Calum hummed in response. “Mike’s right ya know. Like you already did the scary part of moving out here. The rest is just doing your job. Which you already know how to do, and you do it very well I might add.”

Michael let out the breath he’d been holding as Calum disappeared off to the bathroom. “Fuck, that was close. You think pretty good on your feet.”

Y/N chuckled nervously. “Thanks. God, he scared the shit out of me, and we weren’t even doing anything.”

“Backing out?” Michael asked with a twinge of a challenge to mask the underlying brace for rejection.

“We’re fucked if we get caught.”

“So fucked.”

“Guess we better not get caught then.”

Michael grinned.

~~~

She smirked at the message. A painful month of sneaking behind her cousin’s back, and she only wanted the man with wild trouble in those piercing green eyes more with each hidden touch. Needed him the same way Michael needed her. From the doorway, Calum wolf-whistled at the outfit lying on the bed: a slinky black dress with a slit in the thigh, and a matching black lace bra and panty set. “Going somewhere?” he questioned in amusement.

“Yes!” Y/N said with indignation. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Calum chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing. It’s good that you’re going out. You going out with friends, or a guy?”

“Friends,” she lied.

“That’s a hell of a dress for a girls’ night out,” he chuckled again. “You could tell me if it was a guy, ya know. We’re not little kids. I’m not gonna be shocked if you’re getting laid. Be a little worried if you weren’t in all honesty.”

She bit into her lower lip, wondering briefly if it was better to come clean now. Y/N decided on half-admittance. “Alright, it’s a guy. But we’re still in that figuring it out stage. Enjoying each other’s company.”

“Yeah, I bet you are,” Calum smirked.

“Shut up,” she laughed. “And get out so I can finish getting ready.”

“He picking you up?”

She shook her head. “No, we’re meeting up at the bar.”

“So, you’re driving?”

“Relax, spazz. I’m taking an Uber. No drinking and driving here.”

“Good. And hey, do me one small favor?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Go back to his place. Don’t bring him here. Rather spare myself the mental image.”

“I wouldn’t dream of bringing him here, you’re good.”

“Good, good. And hey, if he ends up not enjoying your time anymore A.) he’s an idiot, especially if you’re meeting him dressed in that. And B.) Call me, and I’ll come get ya. No matter the time.”

“Thanks, Cal. Now seriously leave.”

20 minutes after Michael asked to meet in 15 minutes, she was climbing into his car. “Geez, what took you so long?” he questioned, leaning across the seat to press a heated and bruising kiss to Y/N’s lips.

“Cal walked by when I was getting ready. You know for the quiet one, he really doesn’t ever shut up.”

“Shit, think he’s getting suspicious?”

“Nah. I mean I told him I was sort of seeing somebody. But I don’t think he thinks it’s you.”

“Sort of seeing somebody, huh?” Under a passing streetlight, she could see the corner of his lips pull up in a smirk. “You can call me your boyfriend if you want.”

“Oh, is that what you are?” she teased.

Michael chuckled. “I mean not to be heavy, but we’ve been seeing each other a while now. I think this is becoming something more than passing infatuation. I’m not seeing anyone else besides you. I don’t want to see anyone besides you. But if you don’t want to label this because of Cal or whatever, I can respect that.”

“No, no,” she said, softly, fingers tracing across the thick tattooed band on his arm. “I’d like that. Plus, might make telling Cal easier? So we can stop sneaking around? Not that I haven’t loved this. But, I’d really like to not act like we don’t know each other around company.”

His hand brought hers to his lips to stamp kisses over it as he pulled into his driveway. “We’ll tell him soon. Until then, I’m gonna enjoy keeping you to myself.” His gaze turned to take her in, his next breath catching in his throat. “Fuck… Did I tell you how stunning you look, yet? Or was I too busy griping about Cal holding you up like an ass?”

Her cheeks blushed. “Too busy griping. But that’s okay.”

“I think I can think of a way or two to make it up to you.”

“Oh, is that so? Do tell.”

“I think showing you might be more appropriate.”

She shuddered at his words. “Humor me anyway?”

“Let’s just say if my neighbors don’t know me already, they certainly will by tomorrow, because I am going to thoroughly enjoy familiarizing myself with every inch of your skin. And listening to how good my name sounds rolling off your tongue, and how good yours tastes on mine.”

How they managed to make their way inside the house was a mystery to them both as hands tangled in hair, and tongues explored mouths and the column of the other’s throat. Teeth nipped skin, as Y/N’s fell back onto the couch, and Michael marked a path down her body. “Pretty,” his voice taunted from underneath the skirt of her dress as he snapped the waistband of her panties, before pulling them down and off her legs, spitting the lace fabric out of his mouth.

“M-Mike,” she panted, her back arching, searching for him.

“Aw,” he taunted more, his face inches from hers. “You can do better than that. C’mon, I’m sure I got a few neighbors who don’t know who I am yet. Don’t you want to tell them my name, pretty girl?”

“Mike!” The repetition of his name was louder, the desperation in her voice stronger as her fingers wrapped around his wrist and guided him towards where she needed him.

As they surrendered themselves to each other, their names mingled together in the air like the most profanity-riddled melody, each of them certain that by the time daylight broke through the curtains, the neighborhood not only knew his name, but hers as well. 

~~~

Michael tiptoed around the clothes scattered on the floor as he made his way to the dresser, a wide smile plastered on his face. Their first bout that had shook the foundation of the house had led to them curled up on the couch, whispering the sweet promises of budding love against each other’s skin, before retiring to the bedroom. Which then led to a much slower love making of hot moans panted against heated skin, fingers intertwined, and locked gazes swirling with desire, love, lust, and passion. Afterwards exhaustion set in, and they fell asleep in a tangled web of limbs and bedsheets. 

He’d woken up, sure that this had all been a dream, but much to his delight, she was still sleeping soundly in his arms. And after waking her up, he was grabbing her some clothes to put on before joining her in the shower. Or he would have if someone wasn’t banging on his front door.

Confused, he made his way to the front of the house, pulling the front door open to find Ashton, Calum, and Luke on the other side. “See? I told you guys we should’ve waited until he responded,” Luke said with a shake of his head.

“Aw, who gives a shit?” Calum asked rhetorically, shouldering his way past a still confused Michael to get inside the house.

“Uh? What are you guys doing here?” Michael asked, stepping out of the way as Ashton and Luke followed Calum inside.

“Saturdays are for the boys, remember?” Ashton grinned.

“Yeah, but like… did we have actual plans? I- sorry… still waking up.”

“Long night?” Calum teased with a smirk.

“I’ll say,” Luke answered, blue eyes zeroed in on a pair of panties half-wedged between a couch cushion. “You got a girlfriend, Mikey?”

“Holy shit!” Ashton choked, giggling at the sight of Michael with his face frozen in terror. “Is she still here? Is that why you’re so jumpy, mate? Ya got your girlfriend hidden somewhere in your mini mansion?”

“I- What? Pffft, no!” Michael sputtered, grabbing the panties and balling them up in his fist, his green eyes looking wildly at Calum for any indication that his friend might be on to him.

Calum misinterpreted the look as a plea to step in on Michael’s defense. “Aw, leave him be guys. We should be celebrating that he’s finally getting back out there, not giving him shit for it. So when are we gonna meet the girl? When she comes back to claim her lost panties? Or should we leave to not embarrass the poor girl, and meet her some other time?”

“That,” Michael chimed in, “is a great idea, Cal. You guys should leave, because this is part of a matching set, so I’m sure she’ll be by the moment she realizes, and she’ll probably be embarrassed enough as is. So it might be best if you guys aren’t around when that happens. No offense.”

“Matching set?” Calum asked with a raised eyebrow and Michael gulped. “Damn, that girl knew what she was doing.”

The green-eyed blonde chuckled nervously. “Heh, yeah. She’s really cool. I like spending time with her. We’re still kinda figuring some stuff out, but I’ll be sure to bring her around s-”

“Hey, Mike? Have you seen my pa- oh fuck!”

“Y/N!” Calum thundered, jumping to his feet, while Ashton and Luke sucked in their breath and Michael and Y/N looked like a couple of deer trapped in headlights. “The guy you’re seeing is Mike?! You’re fucking my cousin?! And I’m finding this out now?! How long has this been happening?!”

“Maybe now’s not the time to ask questions,” Y/N hissed, trying to make herself as small as possible as she clutched the large towel around her like a lifeline.

“GET DRESSED!” Calum barked, his mind racing.

Michael and Y/N bolted to his bedroom, Ashton’s and Luke’s unrestrained laughter finally breaking free in the background while Calum screeched at them that “IT’S NOT FUNNY!”

“It’s a little funny,” was the barely audible response between wheezes and gasps for air.

Behind the closed door in the safety of the bedroom, Michael and Y/N shared a frantic look. “Well… that wasn’t the way I pictured that going in my head,” Y/N mumbled as she pulled the shirt Michael offered her on over her bra.

“Luke found your underwear,” he mumbled back, handing her the wadded up lace. “Sorry, I wrinkled it.”

“It’s fine,” she told him, stepping into them and then taking the offered gym shorts and stepping into those as well while he pulled on a pair of grey sweats over his boxers. “Hey,” she said softly, reaching up to cup his face and focus his frazzled mind on her. “We’re fine. Right?”

He gave her a small smile, relaxing at her touch. “We’re more than fine,” he nodded, kissing her forehead, each of her cheeks, her nose, and then finally her lips. “I still want you. And if Cal can’t deal with that… well… I…”

“Shh, don’t think about it. Cal’s not gonna care. Just gotta let the shock wear off, first.”

He nodded, his forehead resting against hers, green eyes searching for any kind of hope that they weren’t about to self-destruct; that if it really came down to it, they’d at least hesitate to choose Calum over the other. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, a tear sliding down his cheek despite his best efforts at self control. “This is all my fault. I- I just need you to know that this wasn’t a fleeting moment of infatuation for me. That I-“

“Ssssshhhhh,” she soothed, her thumb rubbing across his cheekbone. “Don’t do this. Don’t say goodbye before we have to.”

They slowly crept their way back to the living room, finding Calum in full interrogation mode. “Did you two know?” he was asking Ashton and Luke, whose bodies were still shaking from barely controlled laughter.

“Hand to God, we didn’t know,” Ashton swore.

“Honest,” Luke agreed before both men sputtered into a new fit of giggles.

Calum’s eyes narrowed, not sure what to believe as he turned on his heel, coming face-to-face with Michael. “Did they know?” he demanded.

“No. Nobody knew,” Michael told him.

“So what? Are you embarrassed to be with her, or something? Are you embarrassed to be with him?” The brown eyes shifted back and forth between the couple.

“No,” it was Y/N’s turn to answer. “We just didn’t want to come to you guys with the news before we figured out what we were to each other first.”

“And what are you to each other?”

“We’re dating.”

“And how long has this been going on?”

“About a month.”

“So, the whole time? Great… You’re a real pal, Mike.”

“Oh, leave him alone,” Y/N defended. “Like you go blabbing to the world whenever you start to get to know someone? No. You wait until you’re sure it’s not just a fleeting moment. Gimme a break, Cal.”

“So… this is like… for real then? You actually like like each other, and shit?”

“We really do,” Michael nodded.

“I see… Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember what I told you last night about not bringing the guy you were seeing home because I’d rather not have that mental image?”

“Yeah. What about it? Change your mind?” she teased.

Calum gagged. “Fuckin’ God, no! If you’re gonna insist on fucking Mike, do it as far away from me as possible. Also if you want to move out sooner, totally fine with that.”

Michael blinked in confusion. “Wait? You’re cool with this? With us?”

Calum shrugged. “If you make each other happy, you make each other happy. Not my place to tell you who you can and can’t date. But,” Calum’s tone changed to be as menacing as possible as he glowered at Michael, “break her heart, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

“What if she breaks mine?” Michael countered.

Calum laughed. “Then I’ll help you pick up the pieces, while secretly wondering what she ever saw in you because let’s face it, she’s too good for you.”

“I’d be more offended if you weren’t totally right.”

__

Tag List

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[cali-holland]

Sacred New Beginnings- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Requested by @stahpppppp​ : Reader is a famous singer and she is friends with Zendaya. Based on Taylor Swift song “Cornelia Street” 🙂 Thank you!

Prompt: You fall in love with Tom on Cornelia Street

Word Count: 3100

Based On: Cornelia Street (and kinda I Think He Knows) by Taylor Swift

Warnings: sexual themes, probably swearing

A/N: Sorry it took so long to post this, I’ve had it finished for agesss

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

“Come on, just a few drinks.” Zendaya nudged you, encouragingly, and you rolled your eyes at her. “Tom will be there.”

“Like that changes my answer.” You joked, hoping she didn’t catch the blush creeping on your cheeks. She did. “I need to finish writing for my album.”

“The bar will give you inspiration!” She insisted. “You’re coming!”

“Fine.” You huffed, not wanting to deal with her persistent nagging any longer.

She was your best friend, ever since you met at an awards show where the two of you both snuck in food in your bags and shared it with each other. You didn’t live in New York, you were renting a small townhouse in the city, seeking a new environment to finish writing your album. It happened to be that Zendaya was also in the city, filming for Spider-Man for a few weeks. 

While filming the last movie, you’d gone to visit her on set, and that’s where you met- and developed a school girl crush on, Tom Holland. He was dreamy, charming, handsome, and you had completely fallen for him over the course of those couple weeks you were in Georgia. Over the past couple years, you two had kept in contact via social media, but nothing too elaborate or special, and neither of you managed to see each other in person again. Until now, when you’d be seeing him for the first in a couple years and you just hoped it could take your mind off of your album.

You quickly got ready to go to the bar with Zendaya, who was already (because she showed up at your door, demanding you go after you ignored her texts). Once you were finally satisfied with your look for the night, you two left your place on Cornelia Street and got into a taxi, heading to the bar where you’d meet up with Tom and the rest of the cast.

“Do I look okay?” You asked, a hand subconsciously playing with your hair nervously until Zendaya lightly slapped it away.

“You look amazing, and by the way, I know for sure that Tom’s still single.” She said proudly.

“I didn’t even ask.” You replied, shaking your head at her in disbelief as the cab driver came to a stop in front of the bar.

“I’m just saying.” Your best friend shrugged innocently at you. You both shuffled your way out of the cab and hurried inside of the bar. Even though you’d only been outside for a minute, you already regretted not pairing your outfit with a jacket- the chill autumn air wasn’t your friend tonight.

“You all remember Y/N, right?” Zendaya smiled, pulling you up to the crowded table with her. Around the table, you recognized Tom, Jacob, and two others beside Tom- one you believed was Harrison (but you only briefly met him two years ago) and you were pretty sure the other was Tom’s brother, who you had never met.

“How could we forget?” Tom spoke up, smiling brightly at you. 

“Hey, everyone.” You greeted. Zendaya took one of the two open seats at the table, leaving the only open one between her and Tom. She smiled innocently at you. Before you even sat in your chair, you nodded your head back to the bar. “I’m gonna go grab a drink. Anyone want more?” With a chorus of yes’s coming from the group, Tom got up to accompany you over to the bar, insisting he could help you get all the drinks. After you two ordered the next round of drinks, he turned to you to start a conversation.

“How’s the album going?” Tom asked you, and you looked at him surprised, wondering how he knew that you were working on an album- you’d tried to keep it private. Seeing your shock, he explained, “Z said you were here for an album.”

“Oh yeah, came here for inspiration, but I’m slowly starting to lose it.” You sighed, feeling a little defeated. 

“What’s the album about? Is it like- what do they call it, a concept album?” He laughed, hoping he’d gotten the word right, and you nodded.

“I guess the concept I’ve been going for is a letter to love itself.” You said, “I know, it sounds cheesy, but-”

“No, it sounds great. I’m sure it’s going to be a killer album. Your music’s amazing, you’re really talented.” He reassured you as the bartender set the numerous drinks on a small tray in front of the two of you, but neither of you made any effort to move/

“Thank you. I just have two more songs left to write for this album.”

“Do you know what they’re about yet?”

“I have this idea from one of them.” You started and he nodded, encouraging you to continue. You laughed as you tried to think of the words, “It’s kind of a quiet confidence, but still cool and sexy- the feeling of that first feeling of attraction. I just can’t find the right lyrics for it yet.”

“Are lyrics normally hard for you to write?” Tom asked. You could tell that he was genuinely intrigued, even though you were worried you’d started to bore him with album talk. Tom took a sip of his drink as he waited for your response.

“Not really, which is why I’m so frustrated with these two songs.”

“Well,” He paused, “Why don’t you come up with a lyric about me? I mean, you said “that first feeling of attraction”, so-”

“Are you implying that I’m attracted to you?” You laughed, teasingly.

“Are you implying that you’re not?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

“Fine.” You took a moment to look him up and down, your eyes landing on his hand holding onto his beer, before you looked him in the eyes, “I think he knows his hand around a cold glass makes me wanna know that body like it’s mine.”

“Were you two ever going to bring back our drinks?” Zendaya questioned, appearing behind the two of you, making both you and Tom jump back in surprise.

“We were just heading back.” Tom insisted, grabbing the tray of drinks, and you and Zendaya both quickly grabbed a couple glasses because all three of you knew Tom would absolutely not make it back to the table without spilling one of the many drinks. Once settled in back at the table, you quickly got out your phone and wrote down the line you’d said to Tom, feeling like it suited your song well.

After a few hours of laughing, drinking, and just catching up with the whole group, you all decided it was probably best to head out. Harry, Harrison, Jacob, and Zendaya all filled up one cab, and Tom stayed behind with you to catch a second one.

“Are you cold?” Tom asked as you shivered lightly, waiting for an empty taxi. Before you could even reply, he had taken off his jacket and put it around your shoulders.

“Then, you’re going to be cold.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, keeping him close to you, “I’m not going to have you get frostbite because you gave me your jacket.”

“It’s not even that cold out.” He shook his head at you in disbelief, but rested his hands on your waist, pulling you even closer to him. After a moment, he moved one of his hands to cup your chin and kissed you. It was a little sloppy and drunken, you could easily taste the beer on his lips, but it was still perfect to you. He pulled back and rested his forehead on yours, “We should go.”

“Yeah,” You let out a small sigh, stepping away from him to hail the next taxi.

“Where are you headed?” The driver asked as you two got into the cab. Tom said the name of his hotel, and the cab took off, beginning its journey.

“You know, I’m renting a place on Cornelia Street.” You said casually in the backseat beside Tom. Feeling the strength of the bar’s alcohol (mixed with the overwhelming attraction you felt for Tom), you hoped you weren’t too forward as you said, “You could stay there tonight, if you want to.”

“I’d love to.” Tom smiled. Relieved, you informed the cab driver of your address, telling him to scratch the previous instructions. Tom tentatively reached over to take your hand in his, making you smile at him.

The driver pulled up to your townhouse and you paid him quickly before basically stumbling out of the car with Tom, his hand still tightly holding yours. Once inside, you had barely gotten the front door closed when Tom kissed you, his hand dropping yours to wrap around your waist. It was hungry and passionate, and you never wanted it to end.

“Bedroom?” He mumbled, just barely bringing his lips off yours.

“Third floor.” You laughed lightly as he sighed. “Gotta get some good cardio in.”

“We seem to have a different idea of what good cardio is at this moment.” Tom joked. You kissed him again, before pulling away and grabbing his hand, leading him up to the master bedroom.

The next morning, you woke up with the all too familiar nauseating feeling of a hangover. Groaning, you snuggled deeper into your pillow, taking a moment to realize it was not a pillow and more of a warm, strong, bare chest. Though some details from last night were fuzzy, you definitely remembered bringing Tom home last night. The only thing currently separating you and Tom was the shirt of his you were wearing and his underwear that he was wearing. Listening to the sound of Tom’s steady heartbeat and the light rain outside, you never wanted to leave your bed.

“Good morning.” Tom said quietly. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders and his hand played softly with your hair as you shifted up from his chest to look at him.

“Good morning.” You replied, a drowsy smile on your lips.

“Are you hungover?” He asked with a little laugh as you brought a hand up to rub your temples.

“If that’s your way of complimenting my morning after look, it’s a really shitty way and I don’t recommend using that on any of your other hookups.” You joked.

“First of all, your morning after look is beautiful.” Tom stated, placing his free hand on your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb, “Second of all, it was a question because I’m hungover. And lastly, who said this was a hookup? Do you want this to just be a hookup because I was going to ask you out?”

“You were going to ask me out?” You asked, a timid smile on your face and he nodded.

“I’ve been kicking myself for not doing it sooner.” He took your hand in his and pressed a small kiss to it, “So what do you say, wanna go out with me?”

“Yes,” You leaned over to kiss him. Pulling you away you both let out small laughs, “Morning breath and alcohol breath don’t mix.”

“They definitely don’t.” Tom laughed.

“Let’s get up. I’ll make breakfast.” You slid out of his embrace and the warm bed.

“Stealing my clothes already?” He asked, noticing you wore his shirt. Apparently he didn’t catch you putting it on last night, not like you really remembered that bit either.

“You’re not getting that jacket back anytime soon.” You teased.

“You can have the jacket, but I’ll need the shirt eventually. The media will already be all over me doing the walk of shame, they don’t need the added bonus of me doing shirtless.” He joked, and you ran a hand over his abs, smiling.

“Do you think anyone’s going to complain about seeing you shirtless?” You leaned up to kiss him again, before separating from him to go make breakfast. 

~~~

“He got my heartbeat skipping down 16th Avenue,” You started to play your guitar as you sang, reading over the lyrics you’d written, “Got that, oh! I mean wanna see what’s under that attitude. Like, I want you, bless my soul, I ain’t-” You paused, hearing the floorboards creaking. Tom was awake from his nap.

“Don’t stop on my account.” He said, coming into the makeshift studio.

“I gotta get this chorus worked out.” You set your guitar to the side, letting Tom come sit beside you on the couch.

“I’ve heard you go over the same five lines for an hour. You need a break.” He laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you so that the two of you were lying on the couch cuddling. It was times like these that made you really feel like you were in love with him, but it was all too soon to think like that, right? With the rain pouring down outside, it was serenely peaceful there in his arms.

“I didn’t mean to keep you up.”

“It’s alright.” He kissed you reassuringly. He hummed in content, “I never want this to end.”

“What?” You pulled away from him a little. “Who said anything about ending?”

“I just thought- I mean I’m only in New York for a couple more weeks, and you’re going back to LA soon.” Tom explained. You stood up from the couch with furrowed eyebrows.

“So what, when we leave here, you were just going to walk away?” You questioned and Tom jumped up from the couch, defensively.

“No, that’s not what-”

“You said you wanted to date me? But was I just a glorified hookup? A fling? God, you were leading me on!” You accused, feeling disgusted with yourself for distracting yourself with a fling. Tom tried to step towards you but you backed up and turned away, “Just, please, go. I need some time alone.”

You couldn’t bear to look at him as you spoke. You heard him sigh, but leave the room without another word, the floorboard creaking as he left. You held back your scared tears until you heard the front door open and close again. He left, just like you told him to, and yet you didn’t want him to be gone.

After a few minutes of solid crying, you decided you had to leave, too. You couldn’t spend another day on Cornelia Street. As you started to pack a few bags, your phone began to ring, and you groaned, seeing it was Zendaya. You and Tom hadn’t really told that many people, other than Z and the group from the bar- maybe that should’ve been your first sign he wanted it to be a fling. You didn’t know if he’d go to Zendaya, if he’d tell her what happened; after all, it had only been a hour since he left.

Picking up the phone, you decided to act like everything was okay, “Hey Z, what’s up?”

“Tell me you’re still at Cornelia Street.” She said as if it was urgent.

“I’m packing to leave, right now.” You told her, getting the sense that she knew about it all.

“Unpack those bags. You’re not leaving, not now.” She was using her maternal voice, which only came out when you were about to make a bad decision that she didn’t agree with.

“Z, did Tom talk to you?” You asked.

“Yes.” She replied and you sighed.

“Then you know why I have to leave.”

“No, I know why you have to stay.” She insisted, sincerity rich in her voice, “Y/N, it wasn’t just a fling to Tom. Just, hear him out.”

“What-” Before you could get your question all the way out, there was a ring at your doorbell.

“Sounds like someone’s outside. I gotta go.” Zendaya said quickly before hanging up the phone.

You already knew it was Tom on the other side of the door, given by her reaction and the fact that no one’s ever rang the doorbell since you’ve rented that townhouse. Making your way downstairs, you tentatively rested your hand on the doorknob. When you opened the door, Tom stood there nervously on the other side, hair a little wet from the rain earlier with a box of chocolates in his hand.

“Apology chocolates?” He offered with a small smile. You bit your lip to keep yourself from laughing, opening the door wider to let him come inside.

“Let’s go to the terrace.” You said, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs, just as you had done the first time he entered your townhouse. Once on the roof, you both sat on the patio couch, having a nice view of the New York sunset with a few rain clouds fading away.

“When I said I didn’t want this to end, I meant I didn’t want us to end because Cornelia Street ends.” Tom started, setting aside the chocolates to take your hands in his, “Because I’ll go back to London or wherever I’m filming and you’ll go back to LA or wherever you’re touring. I didn’t want us to be over when we both leave Cornelia Street. This townhouse right here is our safe haven. I’m showing my hand right now, I love you.”

“We’ll make it work long distance because I don’t know what I’ll do if it doesn’t. I love you, too.” You smiled, leaning over on the couch to kiss him. Tom shivered a little into the kiss and you were surprised by how unusually cold his lips were. “Oh my god, you’re freezing.”

“Yeah, the terrace probably wasn’t a good idea.” He laughed.

“C’mon, let’s run a bath then and get you warmed up.” You stood from the couch and grabbed his hand. He picked up the box of chocolates and followed you to the master bathroom. Once you drew the bath, Tom slid in first with the chocolates open on the ledge beside him. Just before you got in, you paused and ran back to the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Tom called after you. You came into the room a moment later with your notebook and a pen.

“I have lyrics. I need to write them.” You said, tapping your forehead with the pen, before sliding into the bath with your back pressed against his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“What’s this one about?”

“Cornelia Street”.” You smiled, writing out the chorus.

‘I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends, 

I’d never walk Cornelia Street again,

That’s the kind of heartbreak time could never mend,

I’d never walk Cornelia Street again,

And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name,

And baby, I’m so terrified of if you ever walk away,

I’d never walk Cornelia Street again,

I’d never walk Cornelia Street again…’

[nam-nam-joon]

by the sea

Pairing: jeon heejin/reader; kim seokjin/reader

Genre: inspired by this post by @kurara-black-blog​ ; selkie! AU

Wordcount: 6.7k

Warnings: someone opens a door in only underwear (partial nudity); implied consumption of alcohol (this does start in a bar)

Summary: the night is dark and the tiny town by the sea storm-swept when you make your way into the local bar; to meet Heejin and catch up. who could've guessed a chance encounter could extend your horizon far beyond what you thought was normal - real?

Thunder clapped overhead as you shut the pub’s door behind you.

It wasn’t the first summer storm that raged high above the little town by the sea, but it was among the more vicious ones, and you were glad to even have found the bar in this downpour.

The coat rack by the door was overflowing with oilgear in all shades of black, grey and yellow; depending on the age of the garment. In the dim orange light they mostly looked the same anyways.

Not wanting to lug the drenched coat around with yourself you dove between the jackets, arm outstretched to feel if there was a hook under the mountain of cloth that could still hold one more – your knuckles brushed surfaces both smooth and rough, canvas and wax, and then, fur.

It was very soft but came so unexpected you froze, until you remembered someone probably left their heirloom mink or something. The hook next to it wasn’t blocked yet, and with great difficulty, you managed to wedge the loop of your coat over it. The fur brushed your hand again, and then the previously unseen garment landed in a soft heap in front of the worn Blundstone’s on your feet.

It wasn’t mink, as you’d thought, and it didn’t look like your run of the mill fur coat either. It was a vest with applications of some sort; The fur only on the inside for insulating purposes, probably. What it was doing here in the middle of summer was beyond you; you hadn’t seen anyone wear anything heavy like this the days you’d spent here over the summer. The chance to dwell on the matter longer was taken from you when-

“Hi.”

You turned, vest still in hands. You couldn’t make out much of the stranger, but he was very tall and had wet eyes.

“Hi!” You spoke back, over the backdrop of the noisy bar. “Sorry – Is this yours?” You held the vest up. A glass smashed and cheers erupted somewhere deeper into the room, and the stranger twitched, shoulders sagging down.

“Um, ye-“

“I’m so sorry I dropped it!” You had to shout now, as claps and more cheers arose. “I hope it’s not dirty!”

And you brushed it off half-heartedly and held it out to the other.

Around the stranger’s side you could spot Heejin close enough to the bar that the many many candles burning on it illuminated her face.

“Alright, sorry, got to go. Sorry about dropping it, again!” You patted the stranger’s lower arm, smiled up at the wide eyes and made a beeline for the small table Heejin was sitting at.

“Heyy!” She greeted you, lifting her bottle and looking visibly relieved. “Thought you’d drowned in the storm! What took you so long?”

“Haha!” You huffed, not really angry. “The streets are swimming, I had to make sure I didn’t accidentally walk off a cliff!” That seemed to settle her, and she took a swig of her drink.

The air inside the bar was warm and filled with noise by the people inside it – likely most of the tiny town’s residents. It would’ve been stuffy, too, if it weren’t for the windows that were all propped open the smallest bit to let the breeze smelling like sweet rain and salty sea be blown in.

“What’s with the candles?”

Heejin leaned in close to hear you before nodding.

“Power went out. They really need to fix the lines and the generator, this is the second time it’s happening during storm. The salt gets to the lines, you know.”

You nodded and caught the eye of the bartender. She nodded and, pleased with your work, you settled back into the crummy chair.

Around three the storm calmed down, and it was around that time you and Heejin decided to head home, too. Leaving before the barkeeper kicked you out was always a good thing and meant you knew your limits which automatically put you on the good list of any respectable bartender, and besides, it wasn’t like Heejin and you didn’t have something to go home to.

Dawn was far beyond the horizon, especially with those thick clouds still covering the sky. Not even gulls were awake yet as you and Heejin walked with your arms around the other’s back, breathing in the fresh scent of the town scrubbed clean.

“You should come by more often.” She sighed, putting her head on your shoulder. You smiled.

“I would, but I do have a degree to finish and some kind of job that’s waiting for me out in the world. But I promise I’ll always come back to you.”

She huffed, seemingly not entirely satisfied.

“Hey, I’m spending every second weekend of summer here, do you know how many hours that are on public transport? Not to speak of-“

“Alright, alright!” She laughed, touching her free hand to your shoulder, grinning. “I rest my case, don’t worry. It’d just be nice to have you around more. Even more.”

You shook your head and fished out the key from the bottom of your shorts’ pocket as you approached the salt and sun bleached wooden gate leading into the weathered garden surrounding Heejin’s house.

It was small, had been Heejin’s Grandmother’s before the old woman had passed away unexpectedly years ago. Unsure of her future in the city, with her family placing the weight of responsibility for the business on her older brother’s shoulders, Heejin had leapt at the chance to escape it all and settle for slow life on the border of the ocean.

You’d asked her, during one of your many visits, lounging on a sundeck chair in the garden that couldn’t have won many prizes for its beauty if it’d tried. You’d asked her, if she regretted it – dropping out of Uni, coming here.

Putting a screeching halt on the modern life of decadence and decent luxury she’d had in the city.

“It’s scary, a bit.” Heejin had said, swirling the virgin tequila sunrise in her glass – an old mason jar. “Everything’s so different, you know? But I like it. I feel like I can do good here.”

And that had been enough for her, and by extension, for you.

What had been her Grandmother’s study slash miniscule library had turned into a sort-of guest room with a bed and some other necessities. It couldn’t really be called a guest room, as it was only you who ever slept there, and you and Heejin had a queerplatonic relationship going on and to call yourself a ‘guest’ under those circumstances didn’t fit very well.

“Where’d you leave my toothbrush!” She yelled from the bath while you were still busy hanging her and your own coat properly so all the dampness would be gone in the morning.

“I don’t know, I didn’t touch it!” You shouted back, hopping on one foot after pulling your shoes off with your feet and almost losing your balance. The underside of your sock stuck to your sole after you stepped in a puddle of water and you caught yourself on the door frame to the bath, face showing the sheer disgust you were experiencing right now as you briefly caught your reflection in the mirror.

Heejin, having found her toothbrush and already scrubbing away, couldn’t contain a laugh at your misery and sprayed your face and shirt with a fine mist of white bubbles.

“Thanks.” You deadpanned, sidling up to her and wiping at the spots visible in the mirror.

“Sorry.” She said around her brush. “What happened?”

“Stepped into... fucking water, is what happened.” Putting your own brush into your mouth, you sat back on the closed lid of the toilet and tugged at the wet sock until it came off and you could wriggle your toes in the air.

Heejin laughed again, and you could still hear her giggling as you laid down on the comfortable bed, surrounded by the smell of books and faintly, the sea.

“Shut up woman!” You shouted, grinning yourself. She cackled loudly but still wished you a good night, which you gladly returned.

The sun wasn’t out when you woke, but that might’ve been because of the clouds still hanging around. Or maybe Heejin had drawn the blinds yesterday and not told you; but either way, when she touched her hand to your shoulder and said she’d go see what the bakery had that’d make a good breakfast, you only hummed in agreement.

She pressed a loving kiss to your temple and you had made the effort of squeezing her hand, and then she’d left again.

You had half the mind of asking her if she had taken her keys but by the time the thought process had reached the point in your brain responsible for signalling your mouth to talk, the front door had shut and all attempts had been voided.

Whatever.

You really weren’t used to such long nights anymore, you thought to yourself, and sighed and rolled onto the other side, tugging the blanket around you a little tighter.

How great it was it was Saturday, and you didn’t have to be anywhere but here.

It felt like five minutes later, at most, when you were roused from sleep again.

You lifted your head.

The house was silent.

What?

Then came knocking on the front door, and not the gentle knuckles on wood kind most everyone did here, but the loud one from the old fashioned metal knocker, almost eaten by the rust.

Grumbling, you sat up.

Did Heejin think this was funny? Knocking this loudly? Did she really think you were sleeping so deeply!

Not bothering with any more than what you were already wearing – underwear – you haphazardly made your way down the crooked stairs, eyes not even fully open when you reached the door.

The knocking came again, loud, so loud, pounding in your ears that were filled with the sound of rushing blood and-

“Heejin I swear to the good lord, wh-“

Where Heejin’s head would have been was someone’s chest.

Blinking against the brilliant white of the even clouds, you lifted your eyes.

“Ha- Hello.” Soft cheeks and windswept hair, and dark eyes that looked at you far too intently for such an early hour. Was it? Still early?

He bit on his lips and had his shoulders squared, but only when you took note of the soft leather and the stitching on it did you make the connection.

“Oh! Oh, my god! The fur vest! It’s you! Hi.” A breeze curled into the small hallway, and the last of the bed’s warmth stripped from your skin. Shivering, you felt a bit indecent. Almost exposed, as it was – still the guy’s eyes did not waver or drop from your face, which was a stellar behaviour.

“Can I help you? Did I get dirt on your vest, I’m really sorry-“

He smiled, releasing his full lips for the first time, and softly shook his head, effectively shutting you up. He’d reached out with his hands, as if to gesticulate, but settled on clasping his wrists.

“No, it’s nothing like- Please, can I come in?”

“Uh- This is my friend’s house, so I don’t-“

“It really is urgent.”

Something about the way he talked seemed a bit off. You stared at the flat stone acting as the doorstep for a moment.

“I’m sorry, who were you again?”

His lips widened into a full smile – still somewhat shy, though. He puffed his chest a little.

“Kim Seokjin. If it helps, I’m friends with Heejin?”

It was like he tried to sound the most proper way he could, like he was putting special emphasis on pronouncing every syllable correctly.

You were too tired for any of this. Had Heejin ever mentioned him?

“Um... Sure, just- Here, head down through the door into the living room, I’ll grab... some clothes and- be there in a minute, alright?”

You opened the door wider to allow him in, and he leaned down to quickly hug and press a short kiss to your cheek before continuing to where you’d pointed him.

You stood stock-still, the door handle still in your palm, utterly confused.

What had happened?

Head still void of thoughts you took the stairs two steps at a time, dove into Heejin’s room, grabbed one of her spare blankets from where she kept them folded over the old box by her bed, and then hastened back down, silently wishing for her to come back soon.

Wrapped in the soft knitted sheet, you stopped to breathe deeply, and collect yourself a little. Everything would be fine. Of course it would.

“Would you like something to drink?”

Kim Seokjin turned away from the small shelve with Heejin’s favourite books and little keepsakes, looking a little like you’d caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Your gaze zeroed in on the framed picture of you and Heejin, a candid a friend of yours had snapped of you sitting on campus. He tried to push it back in its place and you looked up into his eyes again.

“Wh-what,” He weakly asked, ears a fierce red.

“Would you... like tea? Coffee? A glass of water?”

“I’m, I’m fine thank you.”

You left the door, came towards the couch.

“Actually, just a glass of water would be lovely, if... you don’t... mind?”

His voice got quieter towards the end, but you managed a smile and soon returned with two glasses, a water carafe and a bottle of orange juice on a small tray.

“If you’re looking for Heejin, she’ll be back soon.” You lowered yourself on the couch, and Kim Seokjin did the same in the small armchair across. Folded into it, he looked even larger than in the pub yesterday night. He nodded, and then he shook his head, opened his mouth but didn’t bring any words out.

He downed almost half of his water, and then his fingers wouldn’t let go of the glass. After seeing his knuckles turn pale, you swallowed the juice in your mouth and decided to try again.

“So... What’re you here for, again?”

That seemed to sober him up. He leaned forward and put the glass on the table, and then sat at the edge of his seat, with his palms pressed between his knees.

“So, you see,” He began, his eyes flickering from here to there until they finally landed on you and stayed on you. It seemed like his body let out a huge sigh. “I figured-“ He reached into his pants’ pocket and produced something small he hid in his hand. “This is for you.” And held it out to you.

You didn’t move, staring between his hand and his face.

“What?”

He came around the couch table, nervously sitting closer to you, and you let him take one of your hands off the glass and put a small bag of rough fabric in your palm.

A small, shimmering pearl came tumbling out of the pouch. Understanding less and less, you furrowed your eyebrows at the visitor.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have a ring just yet- Everything went so fast and the shops aren’t open that early, so I figured- I mean, after all, it would only be proper for us to get married by human standards as well, so please accept this as my wedding gift, until I can give you the ring later.”

You stared into those big, brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, I think you’re confusing me with someone else.” You put the pearl back into its pouch and wound the string around the end to keep it securely inside, but when you tried to hand it back, he wouldn’t have it.

“No, no it’s yours, you can’t give it back! –That wouldn’t be proper.”

“Okay? Okay.” You put the satchel down next to your glass and rubbed your hands over your face. Heejin would be back any second, and she’d surely help you get this lunatic out. She’d be back any minute. “Okay, first of all... We’re not getting married, I have no idea who you are, and? What...”

He smiled, wider than seemed acceptable at the moment. Giggled, even.

“Oh, you don’t want the ceremony? That’s okay, more time for us, then. There’s so much I want to know about you, and you have to simply tell me everything! Le-“

“He-Hey hold on, wait, a minute? Ceremony? What? What are you talking about?”

“You gave me my pelt back, I figured you’d want the proper human ceremony, to make it official on your side, too.”

“You... are human too, you know that, right.”

This time he really laughed, once, dropping his head. When he looked up again his eyes sparkled with mirth.

“Oh, funny, you’re funny, I like that. We’ll do well together, I’m sure of it.”

“You-“ He’d inched closer on the couch, and you stood up to bring some distance between you. “We are not getting married, I have no idea who the hell you are, and please, leave now. I’m not even sure Heejin really knows you, she never mentioned you and as crazy as you sound, that’s a huge thing. So, please, if you could just-“

All humour dropped off his face, but it didn’t turn bitter or blank either.

“O-oh, you... You want me to leave you alone so soon, ah... Okay, well.”

He rose, and though he towered above you, looked very small. It appealed to a thin sliver of you, those heartfelt, sad eyes and the hunched over posture, but you fought it down, unwilling to cut this maniac some slack.

“Hurry up, would you?” You huffed as his steps towards the front door came almost in slow-motion.

By the coat rack he turned to look back over his shoulder, bottom lip sucked into his mouth again, the corners turned down.

You looked away as you noticed a tear roll over his cheek. What the hell was going on?

“I suppose...” He faltered in front of the jackets, running his palms over his vest and grabbing its edges. His voice had lost all of the cheery brightness from before, was now solemn and downtrodden. “I suppose you’ll want to keep this, then.”

And he began to shrug out of it, until you stepped closer, put a hand to his arm, looked up at him through bewilderment.

“Why would I want that? It’s your vest, why would I-?”

He froze mid-taking it off, sniffled and blinked and by now there were thin trails of wetness running down his cheeks, and his ears were still red and his nose began to colour too and even though you’d never really met him before yesterday he still looked so lost and sad that it tugged on your heart.

“Listen-“ You began, at the same time he was starting to say “You-“, and both of you were interrupted when the front door opened and Heejin stood there, panting, with a paper bag in her hand and a rolled up newspaper under her arm. Her hair curled a little and with the thrown open door the wind came blowing in, carrying a few drops of rain inside before she shut the opening. Obviously having run from the rain, she pushed her hair back, the elated smile on her face twisting into confusion as she took in the two of you.

“Seokjinnie, I didn’t know you wanted to stop by-”

Her eyes landed on your hand on his arm, her eyebrows lifted. The smile returned to her face. “Oh, you two know each other?! _______, why didn’t you say anything, ever, we could’ve-“

“They don’t.” Kim Seokjin said, his voice coated. The smile trickled off Heejin’s face again. A bit embarrassed you took your hand back, and he pulled his vest back on all the way. “Heejin, if you could-“

Her eyes left him for you, and you tried to convey just how helpless and confused you felt. Something settled on her face, and she nodded, but it hadn’t been directed at you.

“Do you want to stay?” She asked, directed at the tall male. He cleared his throat.

“I guess that’s easier.”

“Come on then, both of you. Time to sit down.”

She pushed between you and tugged you forward, with Kim Seokjin trailing after you.

Since the couch wasn’t that big that it could’ve comfortably housed all three of you, Heejin took one for the team and sat on the couch table between you, looking as serious as she could. It was a little unsettling.

“What’s going on.”

Kim Seokjin took a breath, got choked up, and broke off. Seeing him struggle and desperate to get this off your chest and Heejin on your side, you jumped at the opportunity to explain yourself.

“He showed up here this morning, saying stuff about a marriage and ceremonies and he kissed my cheek? I’ve never met him before but he said you were his friend? You never mentioned him? Or am I losing my marbles here? I mean I never met him before yesterday night, at the bar, but-“

“I was about to head home,” He said, voice laced with tears and his fingers interlocked in his lap. “I was about to go, and then they- My pelt fell off the rack, and they-“ He swallowed and looked at you, causing Heejin to turn her head, too. At the centre of attention, you focused on your own knuckles.

“And they gave me back my pelt. No questions asked. Just like that.” He whispered the last sentence, and you forcefully relaxed your feet. Wouldn’t bring anyone any good to get a cramp now.

Heejin sighed, but it didn’t sound condescending.

“I understand.” She stated. You looked back to her.

“You do?”

She nodded.

“Great! Then can you please explain him-“

“_______, Seokjin is a selkie. Do you know what that means?”

You blinked. “The... The Seal Spirits? But they’re...” Your gaze found his, and the words ‘not real’ died in your throat. You closed your mouth and swallowed.

The silver fur on his vest suddenly seemed a lot brighter than before.

“But...” You tried again, mind blanking at what to do next.

“To give a selkie their coat back means as good as marrying them, in their tradition. That’s why he came here this morning, to make it ‘official’ from your side, too. Did you accept his gift?”

“I didn’t-“

Seokjin nodded silently, pointed at the little pouch still next to your glass with juice.

“They don’t want me.” He said then, voice wobbling and tears collecting under his chin. “I w-waited so long and now-“

“Can you give us a minute? I’ll come see you upstairs, okay?”

Thoughts flurrying, all you could do was nod. “-Sure. Yeah, I’ll... I’ll wait, yeah. Okay.”

And you collected the blanket around you and left for the stairs.

Seokjin’s pressed sob was the last thing you heard before closing the door and climbing the stairs.

By the time Heejin softly knocked on your door you had freshened up, got dressed and combed your hair. She closed the door behind herself and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the wood.

“Can you please help me because I am... Extremely lost right now.” You confessed, sat on the wooden, revolving chair in front of the old, creaky bureau.

Heejin sighed again, and now she did sound tired.

“Yeah. You got yourself in quite the pickle this time, not going to lie...”

You stayed silent, hoping she might elaborate. After another intake of air, she did.

“So, dear Seokjinnie is a selkie, and you happened to give him back his coat, and without conditions, too, so yesterday, when you did, it was like... Like a dream come true for him. You gave him his pelt back without any demands, basically saying ‘I’ll take you as you are and we are one now’, and Jin, not knowing you had no idea, came to see how you would proceed, and now we’re here.”

“But I didn’t- If I’d known he’d think that I wouldn’t have given him his coat! I mean hand it to him. Gosh, what- And now? What now? Can’t he understand this was a mistake? A, a, an accident? –Does he think I own him now?” Panic seeped into your words, and Heejin was quick to shake her head and reach out her hands placatingly.

“No, no no, they have their traditions but they’re aware that people don’t-“ She sighed again. “No, I explained to him you had no idea what he was and what that action might cause, and he understands that, it’s just... He’s a huge romantic, you know? Has always spouted about how when he finds someone that’ll be it, he’ll be that person’s, faithful to one and only one, ever. And all the soulmate stuff and fated one and all that in the books didn’t do much good, with how Selkie’s treat their history and- Can you... Follow me? Where I’m going with this?”

“I think... Maybe? I think I can, yeah... Can’t I just- Break off this marriage? Or... engagement? Whatever that is between us?”

“Technically yes, as you already ‘gave him back’ his pelt and he is as such free to go, but... This is very complicated. If you’d be okay with it, we could go downstairs and sit in the living room and talk while Seokjin is there? He’ll know better answers to all of the specific questions, I promise.”

Still feeling a little light-headed, you nodded. Before Heejin could open the door, you held her back.

“How long have you known? That he’s selkie? That they... exist?”

She pulled back from the door, covered your hand.

“I came to know after my Grandma’s funeral. She was somewhat of a... A warden or, a keeper of peace between the merfolk and the town. A bit like a mediator, because there’s a lot of Selkie’s living amongst humans these days, and all that. Seokjin was among the small group that approached me, to ask if I knew anything of my Grandma’s heritage or if I’d follow her footsteps.”

“So that’s the whole ‘doing good here’ was about.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you more, I really am-“

You shook your head, squeezed her hands.

“No, don’t apologize. You kept their secret, that’s- That’s important. Don’t worry, okay?”

“Thank you for understanding.” She smiled at you, and you dared to smile back.

Kim Seokjin was a heap on the couch when you came back in the room.

The skin around his eyes and nose was red and a bit puffy, but the tears had dried and he blinked against letting any more escape.

Even though you understood who he was a little better now, it still felt weird to think of him as your husband when you took your seat next to him once more.

It was too soon for any of that.

Heejin resumed her position on the couch table – fully embracing her role as mediator, evidently – and looked from him to you.

You turned to the Selkie, fully turning your torso so you really did face him.

“I’d like to apologize. I had no idea about any of this, and- I’m sorry for doing this to you. All of... This.”

He swallowed and nodded slowly.

“I know- I know basically nothing about Selkies other than the thing with their coat; when you hide it, they can’t go back to the ocean, and so on. But I don’t- I’d never do that. And I will never do that. And I, I was wondering, if there was- Any way of... not doing this? Marrying and all of that, I mean.” He blinked, and Heejin shifted, and hastily you continued. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re really pretty-“ He turned his eyes away and dropped his head a little, as if ashamed. “-and I’m sure you’re a really sweet guy, but I barely know you and wouldn’t it be better for you to marry out of love and not because... Because some dumb person accidentally proposed to you in a manner they didn’t even know about?”

“But it happened.” He said, voice small. “You did, if you meant to or not, and if you want to, you can have me. I’m ready to live with you. Unless... Unless you don’t-“

Heejin reached out and rubbed his knee comfortingly, and he collected himself.

“Unless you reject me, and tell me to go back to the sea. I would do that for you, too, live as a seal again. But, if I may, I would-“ He held eye-contact with Heejin, even though his head was turned towards you. “I would like for us to give this a try, before y- we, break apart.”

It seemed like he’d practiced saying it, for when he finished and his eyes glanced at you, his shoulders sagged down a little.

You leaned forward.

“This is all a lot.” You stared between Heejin’s socked feet. “Like, a lot. Can I- May I think about this? About... you, and me? Just-“ Your eyes found the clock on the old piano, focused on the pointers. “Until six pm? Give me time to think this over until then?”

You caught Heejin giving him an understanding, but still questioning look, thumb still rubbing over his knee.

He looked from her to you.

“Yes,” He agreed, swallowing bravely. “Okay. Six pm.”

Heejin invited the Selkie for breakfast, as she’d bought way too much, and even though you’d been reluctant to agree at first, it turned out to be nice.

He’d taken a glass of homemade marmalade that Heejin’s Gran had made, weighted it in his hand and Heejin, apparently knowing what was coming, had been barely able to contain her giggles before Seokjin had said “This is my jam!”. It had eased the way into chatting with him, about his visits to town, his friendship with Heejin, among other things.

He was funny, you had to admit that, and could also eat a lot. After munching through three rolls with various toppings he finally leaned back, satisfied at last.

Even though food coma must’ve been upon him, he helped in clearing off the table and putting everything back in the fridge, wiped the surface and then even stuck around long enough to help with the dishes.

The sun finally broke through the clouds as the hour neared two, and Heejin packed a bag for the beach.

It was warm again, summer having come back in full force after the cool down of the storm last night.

Clouds gathered over the horizon, far out over the water, but the sky spanning above you was clear and blue.

Baking in the sunlight and listening to the waves and the gulls crying out it was almost easy to forget the decision you had to make by the time the early evening came.

Seokjin had excused himself for now, going about his own business, and so you were left alone with Heejin and your thoughts.

“You really don’t have to do it, you know.”

You cracked an eye open and saw her lying next to you on her stomach, open book in the sand. It was a new softcover, otherwise her Grandmother would’ve likely been turning in her grave.

You sighed. “I know this is probably weird but-“

She glared at you. You hurried to backpedal.

“I mean, I guess in the big picture it’s not that weird, but I kind of... He really is cute, isn’t he?”

That got her laughing.

“He is. And he can dance, and sing, and loves to cook, and it’s a miracle nobody from this tiny village has dated him yet.”

The waves were light blue where they rolled on the shore.

“This affects you, too, though. I mean, I was with you first, doesn’t this- Isn’t this like marrying your side hoe? Or something?”

She laughed again and closed her book to turn her sun warmed face to you.

“I mean technically, yes, but under these circumstances I’d be willing to let you have your side hoe. We could still see each other? And...” She trailed off, squinting over the water.

“What?”

“I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Forget it.” A small smile played around her lips.

“What.” You poked her arm.

“I was just thinking-“ She slapped your fingers away. “-Hypothetically, if you do accept him, and you go off to have your thing, it would be nice if you moved in with him. Like a shared house. Preferably somewhere by the ocean, like... here.”

Her smile simmered down, and she looked at you again. “It would be nice to have you around again, you know?”

It wasn’t the first time she said that, and it wasn’t the first time you toyed with the thought what moving here permanently might be like.

“But if I move here I won’t be able to attend my lectures. And I really want that degree, I worked so long for it-“

“You could always do online classes.” Heejin dragged a finger through the soft sand, sneaking glances at you.

“Half the houses here don’t even have WiFi, and the internet café would cost a fortune if I stay holed up here for eight hours a day.” You shot back. Heejin pouted, still drawing swirls into the sand. You’d had this argument before.

“There’s new houses being built uphill, they have WiFi there. Or will have, when they’re done.”

That was new.

“Those would be too high of a price range for me.” Both of you had lost your playful snark. Before she could answer to that you shook your head, huffing.

“Look at us, debating on where I should stay with the strange Selkie I’m married to. Life is crazy.”

“So you will?” Nothing on her face let you know if she really did sound hopeful of if that was just your imagination.

You sighed.

“Honestly... I mean, I can try. We’ll see about the whole married-in-human-terms, but for now... He can’t be so bad. Is he?”

She shook her head so hard you got dizzy just by watching.

“He is not.” She confirmed.

You shrugged and rolled on your back, blinking against the bright sun.

“I guess, I could try. If he’s as nice to be around like at breakfast, and like you said... It feels a bit like cheating though, you know?” She looked at you, raised a brow with interest. “I mean, everyone else dates and breaks up and then there’s me, having been with you for the last years, and now suddenly I have a husband.” You turned your tongue over after saying that, feeling all sorts of strange at using that word. “Husband. How that sounds, too.” You shook your head. “It seems so crazy.”

“You do!” Kim Seokjin echoed, after you’d repeated the words to him at shortly past six, with Heejin rumbling in the kitchen and preparing to cook an early dinner. “You really do? You want to try?”

“Yes.” You said, carefully reaching out across the gap between you two on the couch and covered his balled up hands with yours.

His eyes were swimming again when you shyly looked up into them.

“Can I,” He cleared his throat, never losing eye-contact. “Can I please hug you? Oh me, I’m so-“

You nodded, and he lurched forward, wrapped you up in his arms and then you were flush against his chest with your cheek against the soft skin of his pelt.

“-happy.” He finished, mumbling the words in your hair and tightening his hold.

And it felt nice.

You still had no idea who he really was, apart from all which you did know, but that was what the next weeks would be for, you supposed.

“So, you’ll stay.” Heejin said over a spoon full of broth. You nodded, with a lot more collected Kim Seokjin on the other side of the kitchen table.

“That’s good, ‘cause you see...” She blew on the broth and then dropped the spoon back down, erasing her progress. It didn’t seem to matter, her eyes were glistening and her hands clasped under her chin. “I kind of got my mother to invest in the houses being build uphill, and as such you can pick one for yourself! A branch of my family’s business will rent them out to whoever wants, but you’ll be able to live there as long as you want. For only a small rent, of course.”

You dropped your spoon.

“Heejin-“

She lifted a finger.

“I’m not saying I planned this, because I didn’t, but I had the hope that if I had a little more to offer than a creaky bed in my makeshift library, I might be able to persuade you to come out here more often, and maybe get you to stay longer, too. And now... Now it might work out, after all!”

Kim Seokjin’s eyes switched from your friend to you.

“I know you don’t live in town, but where do you usually live? The truckstop a few kilometres from here? Or on the other side of the forest?”

You looked from him to Heejin, and then back.

“Um, Kim Seokjin-“

“Seokjin. Or Jin. Or, anything, really, is fine.”

“Seokjin, I- live a little further than just the stop or the forest.”

“That’s okay.” He said quickly, stirring his soup in its bowl. “I haven’t really... I mean, I never really left town much. On the occasion of walking around.”

You nodded, and suddenly felt a bit bad again.

“_______ will be back second next week. They always visit every second weekend.”

“So long.” Seokjin mumbled, and you quietly reached out your hand to tap it to his.

“I’ll just- I’ll need time to sort things out a bit, and transfer all my stuff online, but- As soon as the house is finished, I’ll probably be able to come and live here.”

“Speaking of which,” Heejin clapped her hands and startled both of you. “We can go look at them if you want?”

“What, now?” Seokjin’s eyes were wide as he desperately looked down on his bowl.

“Maybe tomorrow.” She added, faced with his distress. “It’s Sunday anyways, so nobody will be around. It’s the perfect time!”

She was right concerning that.

The houses were sprinkled over a plateau halfway up the hill, visible from the town but not so that they had really caught your eye before.

There was one, furthest out from the gravel road that had been put down already, with its balcony positioned just right so you could see both sunrise and –set.

Only the walls and the stairs were built, and a roof, but the balcony was there already. Seokjin came out to where you were standing with your hands in the pockets of your shorts, well away from the handrail-lacking edge. You turned your head and observed him, how he let his eyes roam from the horizon to the town nestled about a half-hour walk down the hill.

Even before he focused on you and shyly reached out his hand, asking for you to hold it without words and then smiled, you knew he had made a decision.

“I like this one.” You said, rubbing a thumb over the back of his hand. It felt very nice to do so.

“Me too.” He mumbled, eyes not letting go of your gaze as he answered your touch and tightened his fingers briefly.

“You wanna choose this one?”

He nodded, buzzing with energy now that the decision had been made.

“Heejin?”

You leaned around the opening that would one day hold the door, and found her with her phone out.

“I think we’ll take this one.”

Besides you Seokjin’s smile widened. He tugged on your hands a little, and even though he refrained from leaning his head against yours, you could see the happiness radiate from his action.

“Thank you.” He whispered, not for the first time.

“Who knows, maybe I’m a terrible flatmate and you’ll really regret moving in with me... Maybe I leave dirty clothes everywhere... Maybe I never shower... Maybe-”

He wrinkled his nose.

“I’ll lo- I mean, I will like you either way.” He spoke bravely, but still searched your face for a response. You grinned, and he did, too.

“Yah, are you two done?” Heejin yelled from below.

Neither of you had noticed her going down.

It still felt very new and like you shouldn’t be able to do it, but you disentangled your hands and wrapped the freed arm around his waist. He hummed, smiling, eyes sparkling.

AN.: you can also find this and everything else i’ve written on my ao3 runningfaucet

if you enjoyed reading this, please let me know what you liked best in the comments :)

[master-sass-blast]

It’s Truly Magical.

IT’S HONEYMOON TIME!!!

Summary: You and Piotr enjoy your honeymoon --by going to Disneyland, no less.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader.

Rating: T for implied sex, mention of needles, and briefly referenced childhood trauma but this fic is a fluff fest I promise.

Set after “In the Dawn of a New Day.”

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @nebulous-leo

“So let’s see… a week and a half is… uh…”

“Make list.”

You stare down at your suitcase as you try to do the math in your head. You’re trying to pack for yours and Piotr’s honeymoon.

Because the two of you are married now. You, Y/N Rasputin, managed to snatch up the world’s greatest catch for yourself.

Suck it, universe.

“That’s… ten-ish days, so ten outfits –except for the nice dinner, so that’s another outfit, oh, and the plane flights…”

“Just make list.”

The two of you are going to California, courtesy of your uncle; you two get to spend the first four days of the trip at Disneyland, and then the rest of your honeymoon will be spent at a little beach house AirBNB where the two of you can just chill and enjoy the ocean.

“So that’s like… twice as much underwear? Three times as much?” You blink when you remember that this is technically your honeymoon. “Do I even need underwear?”

“This might be easier if you made list, moya lyubov’.”

“And I’ll need… uh…”

“Darling wife of mine.”

You smile bashfully, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the reminder that you’re his wife now, and look over where Piotr’s sitting on your two’s bed.

He smiles at you, loving and endeared, and tosses a pen and notepad at you. “Just make packing list already.”

(You do, eventually, wind up making a list –though your husband does have to help you with the process.)

 ***

 The day of the flight brings its own boughs of anxiety and struggle. There’s the prospect of trying to navigate the airport properly and get through security –which promises to be a headache regardless of how much time you give yourselves—and then underlying tension that the two of you might get thrown out for being mutants—

But the unarguable worst part of the day happens before the two of you even leave home to head to the airport.

Piotr crosses his arms over his chest, face strained with worry as he stares down the small vial of yellow fluid in your hands. “I do not like this.”

You’re not cleared to fly on commercial flights –and technically won’t ever be, since the psychic scarring on your brain is permanent—without having your mutation repressed in some way, shape, or form. After an extended discussion between Hank, Professor Xavier, Alyssa, and your uncle, the four of them figured that you’d be unlikely to get a repression cuff or collar through airport security, which only left one option to keep your mutation repressed in the event –albeit unlikely—that you had an episode.

Repression serum.

The dose in the vial is only enough to get you safely to California –and you’ll have to use it all for it to work properly. Another vial will be provided before you and Piotr leave California to come back home. There’s no way for you to use it under any other circumstance or hoard it away for later, and Alyssa and Professor Xavier were both confident that you were well past the issues that led you to using it regularly that you wouldn’t be likely to relapse—

But yeah, you don’t like it either.

“It’s what we have to do, sweetheart,” you say, expression grim as you load up the syringe. “It’s for everyone else’s safety. And mine.”

“I know,” Piotr says, paling slightly as he watches you prepare the injection site on your arm. “I just… I really do not like this.”

“It’s going to be okay, honey,” you reassure him. “I’m going to be okay. I promise.”

There’s really not much else to say, considering what you have to do or your history with the repression serum, so you take a deep breath and insert the needle into your arm.

The serum hits as fast as you remember it hitting (since the dose was calibrated for your resistance to the stuff). Within about thirty seconds, you can feel your connection to the air around you being tamped down. It’s almost like someone’s put on a very thick jacket all over every inch of your body.

You grimace once you remove the needle and press a piece of gauze against the injection site. “I don’t like that.”

“Are you alright?” Piotr asks, panic evident in his voice and on his face as he kneels in front of you. “Do you feel sick? Do we need to see Hank?”

“No, no, I’m fine, I just don’t like how the serum feels,” you clarify. “I don’t like not feeling connected to the air. It doesn’t feel good.”

Piotr blinks as understanding flickers across his face, then he abruptly claps a hand over his mouth and stands, turning away from you in the process.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You quickly set the syringe and the now empty vial aside and stand, maneuvering so you’re positioned in front of your husband. “Piotr, talk to me. What’s going on?”

Piotr shakes his head as he wipes a few tears away from his eyes. “I was afraid… that you would like it. That you would miss using serum. And that you do not… it is big relief to me.”

Tears well up in your eyes as your heart tears for your mush of a man. You wrap your arms around Piotr’s waist and hold him while he takes deep, shaky breaths. “It’s okay, Piotr. I’m okay.”

And you are. You really, truly are.

 ***

 Getting through the airport is just about as much of a hassle as you anticipated. It’s confusing, it’s chaotic, there’s far too much standing in line involved, and the ratio of people to available outlets –logically—should’ve caused a bloodbath by now.

Fortunately, you and Piotr don’t get tossed out for being mutants (even though the two of you “pass” relatively well, you’re both legally required to register as mutants, which always opens up the risk of being thrown out of anywhere that checks your ID).

(Piotr also doesn’t set off the security checkpoint metal detector when he goes through it, which –while logically being a good thing—is honestly kind of disappointing.)

You opt to lean against your husband’s shoulder while the two of you wait to board, at which point you lament over having to wait even longer, to which Piotr remarks that the two of you will still get to board earlier than everyone else because you’re flying in first class, which prompts you to pull out your boarding pass and study it—

“We’re flying first class?”

Piotr chuckles as he drapes his arm over your shoulders. “You just realized this?”

“You’re the one who checked all the tickets and reservations, not me!”

The ticket does, in fact, confirm that the two of you have first class seats reserved –next to each other, too, which is a bonus.

“Why’d my uncle get us first class seats?” you ponder quietly. “It’s so expensive.”

“Probably my size,” Piotr reasons. “I have trouble fitting in smaller seats.”

You shrug, then smile up at your spouse. “Well, we can at least have fun with flying first class for the first time!”

“That we can,” he agrees before dipping his head to kiss you.

 ***

 As it is, Piotr still barely fits into the first class seat. It’s clearly better suited to accommodate him than an economy seat –but only barely.

Fortunately, you don’t need the dividing armrest down to be comfortable, and you’re more than happy to be closely snuggled against your hubby for several hours. You take the window seat so Piotr has an easier time getting in and out of your seat and nestle up against him while he scans the in-flight safety pamphlet.

“You two are absolutely adorable,” one of the flight attendants comments with a smile. “We don’t see a lot of super lovey couples on the flights.”

“I think it helps that we’re flying out for our honeymoon,” you joke; at home, it’s a well known fact that you and Piotr are a pair of regular lovebirds –though, the added buzz from the wedding and honeymoon doesn’t hurt.

The flight attendant beams when you show off your engagement ring and wedding band. “Congratulations! That’s so wonderful! We do offer complimentary beverages and snacks to our first class passengers. Maybe some sparkling wine to celebrate, or a cookie and some milk if you’re not alcohol drinkers?”

You look up at Piotr. “Cookies and milk?”

He smiles down at you, then nods at the flight attendant. “Cookies and milk would be nice.”

 ***

 Fun fact: A non-stop flight from New York to California is a little over six hours.

Additional fun fact: years of being able to fly one’s self makes travelling by plane a touch lackluster.

“We’re not even breaking the sound barrier,” you whisper to Piotr at one point. “Where’s the fun in that?”

He merely snorts and kisses the top of your head.

All in all, though, it’s a good time. The two of you snuggle against each other as the plane soars through the skies, Piotr fills you in on all things Disney, and you play games provided on the little screen interfaces on the backs of the seats in front of you.

You’re also provided a proper meal a couple hours into the flight –and, much to Piotr’s delight, it’s reasonably healthy, if not necessarily portioned out for someone of his size.

“The perks of flying first class, I guess,” you comment before starting in on your food.

 ***

 Actually arriving in California, admittedly, is a bit of a mindfuck, solely due to the time difference between the East Coast and the West Coast.

“None of this feels right,” you mumble as you try to reconcile the earlier time to your inner body clock.

“Imagine how I felt first coming from Russia,” Piotr comments as he scans the directional signs to figure out where the two of you need to pick up your luggage.

“Shit, yeah, that’d be insane.” You frown. “How does your family manage to jump between here and there, then?”

Piotr shrugs. “Lots of coffee, probably.”

 ***

 The process of getting to the famed park is far less drawn out than the flight. Once you two have your luggage, you head over to the car rental place and pick up your car –rented so the two of you have a reliable way to get around for the rest of your honeymoon—and take the half hour drive to the park.

You give Piotr a goofy smile when another motorist curses you out for abiding by the traffic laws. “It’s like we never left home.”

Piotr just tips his head back and laughs.

 ***

 To make everything extra special, your hotel reservation is at one of the hotels in the park itself –very appropriately named “Disneyland Hotel.” The two of you get checked in and head up to your room—

And it’s nice. There’s a massive king-sized bed that sits directly across from a combination dresser and TV cabinet. A desk and chair sit next to the dresser-cabinet combo, and a cushy looking armchair sits next to the bed on the far side of the room. Everything’s decorated in warm, inviting tones of brown and gold, save for a genuinely pretty blue and gold carpet. On the other side of the bed, closest to the door, is another door that leads to a bathroom.

It’s nice. Clean. It has amenities like a mini-fridge and a coffee maker and an ironing board.

It’s also like almost any other hotel you’ve ever been in.

Piotr shrugs when you remark as much. “Were you expecting something else?”

“I don’t know… mouse ears everywhere? Super bright colors and patterns?”

Piotr chuckles as he sets yours and his suitcases down. “The crucial experience is park. Rooms are supposed to promote rest and relaxation.”

“Fair enough.” You dart over to the window on the far side of the room to check out the view, then chuckle when all you can see is the parking lot. “Oh, damn, can’t get this view anywhere else.” You whip out your phone to take a Snapchat video of the view, then tuck it back in your pocket and turn around when you hear Piotr groan and the bed creak ominously.

He’s dropped face-down into the bed, arms spread out like a starfish and legs hanging haphazardly off the bed.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Feeling comfy, baby?”

“Planes do not agree with me,” he laments, voice muffled by the bed.

“I bet.” You cross over to the bed and hop up next to him. “How about this,” you suggest as you gently rub his back. “We just get some room service –because I’m hungry—and then just stretch out and rest. We’ve got four days here at the park; that’s plenty of time to check everything out.”

“Sounds wonderful.” He lifts his head and grins at you. “We are at Disneyland.”

“Yeah, we are,” you reply with a grin of your own. “Are you excited?”

He giggles and nods before dropping his head back down. “Very.”

You gently run your fingers through his hair and kiss the top of his head before turning and rummaging through the nightstand drawer for a room service menu. “You get comfortable, babe. I’ll get us some food.”

 ***

 The two of you eat and take a little nap before unpacking. Since you aren’t staying the entire duration of your trip at the park, you only unpack what you need –a few clothes, some toiletries, a couple of things to do during down time…

And, in your husband’s case, an entire pantry’s worth of healthy snacks and protein bars.

You gape as Piotr carefully tucks away a supply of unsalted veggie chips, mixes of dried fruit and nuts, crackers with “extra fiber” (whatever the fuck that means), and a couple boxes of protein bars into one of the dresser drawers. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Piotr! We are on vacation!”

“We still need to eat!” he retorts defensively.

“They have restaurants and room service here!” you argue, trying to hold back amused laughter. “And we can always buy food if we need something they don’t have!”

“It is still less expensive this way,” he reasons.

“The park expenses are on someone else’s tab, and we’ll still have to get groceries for the rest of our trip.”

The gears in Piotr’s head visibly turn while he processes your statement. He huffs –and shoots you an amused glare when you giggle—and continues unpacking his snacks. “Just wait until end of trip, when you are sick from travel food and I am not. You will eat words then.”

“The only thing I want to eat is your dick,” you fire back, snickering when the tips of Piotr’s ears go red. You pick up one of the boxes out of the dresser drawer and read the label. “‘Multi-grain Nutritional Crackers, now with Extra Fiber.’ Honestly, you are such an old man.”

Piotr shakes his head, takes the box from you and puts it back in the drawer, then lifts you up into his arms. “Not old just yet.”

You giggle and press your lips against his.

 *** 

 The following morning hosts massive bouts of excitement –Piotr—and general disgust at the existence of mornings in general –you.

Your mood does perk up, though, upon having some proper breakfasts in one of the restaurants in the hotel –accompanied by coffee and some of the park’s legendary Dole whip, no less. By the time the two of you head into the “attractions” part of the park, you’re just as pepped up as your Disney-loving hubby.

The two of you wander around a bit, getting a sense for the park and where everything is, until—

“Babe!” You point at the Alice in Wonderland spinning teacups ride. “Let’s go on that one!”

Piotr acquiesces, and the two of you get in line for the ride. It takes a fair bit of standing and waiting, but eventually the two of you are ushered onto one of the massive teacups. You both get settled, then wait for the ride to start.

“What’s this for?” you ask, tapping a stand in the middle with what looks like a steering wheel attached to the top.

“To spin ride,” Piotr explains. “It makes cup spin faster.”

Your eyes widen as you stare at the device. “I thought the ride just spun the cups on its own.”

“It does.” Piotr gestures to the frame the cups sit on. “Entire ride spins like merry-go-round. Riders can spin cups while ride spins.”

You grin, borderline maniacally. “Fuck. Yeah.”

Once the ride starts, you immediately start trying to spin the cup as fast as you can. Under any other circumstances, you suspect the cup would spin without too much resistance.

However, those circumstances don’t involve having the world’s heaviest Russian husband in the cup at the same time.

You grunt as you try to spin the cup. “Dammit! Why do you have to be so heavy?”

“It is not end of world, msyhka,” Piotr chuckles. “Just sit back and enjoy ride.”

“I want to go fast! But I can’t do that because I just happened to shack up with the one Russian juggernaut that eats lead for breakfast!”

Piotr laughs again –then grips the wheel and gives it a mighty yank.

You shriek, delighted, as the cup whips around at maximum speed. The world dissolves into a blur of color and noise as your hair whips around and smacks your face.

It’s like flying without the physical effort of flying. It’s amazing.

“That was awesome!” you giggle as you stumble off the ride. “We should go –babe?”

Piotr staggers after you, looking considerably worse for wear. He’s gone pale –paler than usual, at least—and clammy looking, and his jaw is clenched tight. “I think,” he manages in a weak, shaky voice, “that was mistake.”

You put your hands on his arms, helping steady him. “Holy shit, baby, you look awful. Come on, let’s get back to the hotel room so you can lay down.”

“Perhaps that would be for best,” Piotr agrees as you steer him in the direction of the hotel.

 ***

 “No fucking way. The Steel Boy Scout can’t handle rollercoasters. That’s incredible!”

“I mean, in his defense, it was a spin heavy ride,” you say to Wade as you stroke Piotr’s hair.

The two of you are back in your hotel room; Piotr had opted to lay face down on the bed and bury his face in a pillow, while you’d opted to call Wade and update him on how the vacation was going –or, rather, wasn’t.

“Yeah, well, still,” Wade insists in your ear. “It’s funny. He’s a superhero who battles diabolical villains on a regular basis, and he can’t handle spinning around a little.”

“I mean, you make a valid point—”

The bed lurches as Piotr shoots off it and sprints to the bathroom.

“Ah, shit. I’ve gotta go.”

“Has Chernobyl finally decided to blow?”

You wince as the sounds of Piotr emptying his stomach contents into the toilet emanate from the bathroom. “Yeah. I’ll talk to you later.”

 ***

 You spend the rest of the day in the hotel room to let Piotr properly recuperate. You order room service for the two of you once Piotr’s feeling well enough to eat, and otherwise spend the day texting, scrolling through social media, or watching TV while you hold your husband and stroke his hair.

All in all, it’s a day perfectly spent.

And, fortunately, Piotr’s feeling well enough by the time the day comes to a close that the two of you can catch one of the park’s famed fireworks shows. Granted, you have to stand off to the side so Piotr doesn’t block anyone’s view, but it’s still a stunning spectacle to behold.

(It also gives Wade’s fireworks “demonstrations” a run for their money, which isn’t something you’d ever thought could be possible.)

“Are you feeling better, honey?” you ask as the two of you stroll back to the hotel, hand in hand.

“Much.” Piotr squeezes your hand gently. “Tomorrow should go much better.”

“Here’s hoping. No more spinning rides for you, mister.”

Piotr chuckles and shakes his head. “On that, we are agreed.”

 ***

 The following morning, Piotr’s in a much better state than the previous day. After a hearty breakfast at the hotel, the two of you head back into the attractions part of the park and scope out more rides to try out –with a strict emphasis on “non-spinning” for your husband’s sake.

Eventually, the two of you come across a ride called “Big Thunder” that seems promising. The two of you hop in line to get on the ride—

Except upon finally being able to get on said ride, it turns out that Piotr’s too big for the safety mechanisms to work properly.

You burst out cackling as Piotr sheepishly extricates himself from his seat and steps back onto the platform. “We can’t win with you, huh, baby?”

“It would see not.” He kisses you gently. “I’ll see you back at walkway.”

You smile at him and blow him another kiss as he heads towards the exit.

Then, an attendant comes by to check your harness and the harnesses of the other rides. There’s the sound of the motors that run the coaster coming to life and hissing –and then the ride shoots forward.

And you scream.

 ***

 “It was awesome!” you gush to Piotr once you find him outside the ride. “It’s like flying, but I get to sit down the entire time. It’s basically perfect! Although, I think we’re gonna have to skip rides while we’re here. You’re not gonna fit on… any of them, really.”

Piotr chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “You can still go on rides, myshka. This is your trip, also. And there are calmer rides and other attractions I can enjoy.”

“Alright.” You take a moment to check a map of the park that Piotr downloaded and sent to your phone. “Do you want to go find a ride we can both go on?”

“That sounds very nice.”

You smile and take his hand in yours, then the two of you head off in search of a ride that both of you can go on.

 ***

 The two of you wind up going on Astro Blasters –even though neither of you are very good at hitting any of the targets—and going on the famed Pirates of the Caribbean ride together, and you also hit Splash Mountain and the Indiana Jones rides on your own.

(Piotr pays to get pictures of you riding the rides on your own and gets a good chuckle out of your open-mouthed, exhilarated expressions.)

You also take time just to wander around the park and take everything in. You two take a selfie in front of Sleeping Beauty’s castle, spy the Mickey Mouse costume character strolling around and saying hi to kids, and generally take in the sights and sounds of the park –of which there are many.

Just like the advertising says, it’s genuinely magical.

 ***

 “Are you enjoying Disneyland?”

Piotr grins as he wipes his fingers on a napkin. “Da. I really am. Are you?”

You grin back and lean over to kiss his shoulder. “Yeah. It’s pretty awesome.”

The two of you had opted to stop for lunch after a bit, with Piotr citing that getting overtired or going too long without eating in the baking California heat would wind up doing either of you in. You’d decided to get a corndog and a soda, whereas Piotr had purchased one of the famed turkey legs and a bottle of water.

(The picture you’d taken of Piotr biting into his turkey leg was nothing short of priceless.)

“I want to get something to remember trip by,” Piotr continues as he polishes off his turkey leg (which had taken him the same time to eat as it had for you to devour your corndog). “Proper memento.”

“Well, Mikhail did give us that jar of money after the reception,” you point out. “You want to use that to get a little honeymoon treat? Maybe some matching mouse ear headbands?”

Piotr beams and nods. “That sounds wonderful.”

 ***

 The two of you resume wandering around the park after eating lunch. You briefly stop to watch a parade of characters and decorated vehicles go by, then resume the hunt for some proper mementos to commemorate your honeymoon at the park.

Which, actually, is easier said than done. The park has several shops scattered throughout it and different kiosks by rides that host specially themed mouse-eared headbands. Trying to compare all the options available, let alone narrow things down to a top pick, is almost too tall a task to handle.

(Not to mention that the headbands themselves are egregiously expensive. Holy shit.)

Eventually, though, you settle on a sequined Minnie Mouse ears headband –complete with a sequined red bow with white polka dots—while Piotr opts for a classic –sequins free—Mickey Mouse ears headband.

“I think we look pretty good!” you declare as you post one of the selfies you took of you and Piotr to Instagram.

Piotr brushes a soft kiss against your temple. “I agree –but you look best.”

You sputter and duck your head bashfully. “You’re awfully sweet, Mr. Rasputin.”

“Says person eating cotton candy.”

“Not my fault it’s good.” You split your last bite in half and offer part of it to him –then gape when he actually accepts it. “What’s this? You actually ate cotton candy!”

Piotr rolls his eyes good naturedly –though he does pull a face at how sweet the candy is. “Is my vacation. I eat treats if I want.”

You grin and giggle, then yank on his hand and head in the direction of another vendor stand. “Ooh, come on! I need to get a pretzel!”

“You just finished cotton candy.”

“Yeah, but—” you glance around and lower your voice carefully “—I need to get a Snapchat of it so I can send Wade a snap about being a ‘childless whore fucking up the pretzel line.’”

Piotr’s eyes widen and he claps a hand over his mouth to stifle a massive snort. “What?”

“Baby, please?”

He shakes his head, but ultimately acquiesces. “Lead way, myshka.”

 ***

 You wake up on the third day of your trip with sore legs and feet, a barely there stomach ache from eating too much cotton candy the day previous, and an erection pressed against your ass.

You grin when Piotr’s lips start pressing against your neck. “Morning, sweetheart. Feeling good?”

“Chrezvychayno.”

You sigh, content, when his hand latches onto your hip and his other arm presses against your chest, pulling you flush against him. “Y’know… we’ve pretty much done everything we can do in the park. We could just…” You swing one of your arms back so you can slide your hand down his side. “Stay in bed today. Order room service. Do what all honeymooners do.”

“That,” Piotr murmurs huskily, lustily. “Sounds perfect.”

 ***

 You two spend the last day of the Disney part of your trip largely lazing around. You stroll through the park to get more pictures and check out a few more rides, but other than that you two simply enjoy each other’s company until the time for your dinner reservation at the renowned Blue Bayou restaurant comes. The two of you take a few hours to get cleaned and dressed up for the dinner –a cocktail dress with blue and purple flowers for you and a suit with a blue and purple tie for him—and head over to the Blue Bayou restaurant.

The space itself is nothing short of breathtaking. There’s trees along the edge of the outdoor dining area, and lanterns and flowers are strung across the space to give it a soft, ethereal feel.

You two are seated in a quiet corner of the dining area at a sleek black table bordered by chairs with elegant backs that look like wrought iron; the waiter hands you two your menus and takes your drink orders—

And then it’s just you and Piotr.

You glance up from perusing your menu and smile at your husband. “Anything in particular looking good?”

He “hmms” thoughtfully. “Possibly lamb… or roasted chicken.”

“They both look good,” you agree. You nudge his leg under the table, then grin at him when he looks up at you. “Love you.”

Piotr beams at you. “I love you, too.”

The waiter returns a couple minutes later with your drinks, jots down your orders, then takes your menus and whisks away once more.

Piotr reaches across the table –careful not to knock into either of your glasses or the candle at the center of the table—and takes one of your hands in his. “So. We are married.”

You grin. “Hell yeah we are.”

He smiles back, then gazes thoughtfully at the engagement ring and wedding band on your left hand while rubbing circles against the back of your hand with his thumb. “What comes next?”

You let out a huff. “I mean… we have a house to furnish.”

“That we do,” Piotr chuckles. “But I meant more for us. What do you want us to do next, as couple?”

You glance around surreptitiously, then quietly suggest, “Have lots of sex?”

Piotr snorts. “Duly noted, myshka. Answer question seriously, please.”

You sit back in your seat, taking a moment to enjoy the way his thumb rubs against your hand before mulling over the question. “I don’t know. Right now, I’m kinda just content to enjoy the moment and our new life together.”

Piotr nods after a moment. “Okay. And… in future?”

“Kids, eventually,” you say, flashing a demure smile at him. “I mean, I think we should get the house furnished and functional first, but… maybe in the next year or two.”

Piotr smiles at that, eyes sparkling and face glowing. “Alright. It is your body; you set all rules.”

“I think in a year or two we can start trying,” you reiterate. “But, right now, I’m just looking to enjoy us. You.”

His smile softens, and he squeezes your hand gently. “That sounds very nice.”

You smile back, slowly getting lost in the depths of his sparkling blue eyes—

It really is magical.

[moiraineswife]

The Courage Or The Fall - A WidoMauk Fic

Thanking yooou to @ace-absol for prompting this. I hope you like it, Maddy!!! 

A/N: For the purposes of this fic we’re gonna stumble into an AU in which the bathhouse scene never happened, and we’re going to pretend that we’ve all forgotten disguise self is  a thing, JUST LET ME HAVE THIS RIDICULOUS SET-UP IN PEACE, OKAY!? 

Title: The Courage Or The Fall 

Summary: Prompted:  “Shivering long after everyone else has stopped.” After ending up fighting a battle submerged in a  frozen lake, the Mighty Nein strip off in their camp to dry out and warm up. All but one.  Content warning: this fic deals quite a lot with scars, if that’s not your cup of tea, maybe avoid. 

Teaser: “I’m going to stop you freezing to death, you idiot,” he said simply, hand still extended. Caleb still didn’t move. “Trust me,” Molly murmured, his words only for the darkness and the wizard staring up at him, the firelight glinting on his pale eyes making them look strangely opaque and ghostly. “I should think I’d proved myself quite adept at keeping you alive after all this time.” 

Caleb stared at him for another long, thundering heartbeat, then he let a soft laugh huff past his lips. He reached up and grabbed Molly’s forearm, letting him pull him to his feet. 

Link: AO3

Molly had experienced a lot of interesting things in his life. In fact, he considered himself a connoisseur of interesting things. 

But in spite of that, he had never had the pleasure of battling a poisonous, enlarged serpent in the belly of a freezing lake. 

Until today.   

Nott sloped out of the lake last, shaking her head so hard her ears flapped, looking very much like a drowned rat. She padded right for the centre of their little bank-side camp where Caleb, bless him, had managed to get a fire going. 

Molly trailed after Nott, satisfied that all of them had now made it out, and made a beeline for the fire as well. Tieflings ran hot, and he was not at all fond of being cold. For all he loved travelling, and being on the road, and the wandering lifestyle he had with the Nein, he did not enjoy being frozen. 

That had diminished since he’d been travelling with Caleb, who was wonderfully good at producing fires. 

By the time he and Nott reached it, the fire at the centre was at the height of Molly’s waist, and roaring happily like an enthusiastic dragon as it consumed the logs the others were feeding it to keep it going. 

Molly stretched up on his toes, his tail quivering as it went taut, and then, without further ado, he began to strip. 

Living in a carnival had taught him several invaluable life lessons, and one of those was that if you wanted to survive on the road, privacy was something you learned to abandon quickly. 

“Molly, what in the heck are you doing?” Beau called from the other side of the fire, mock-averting her eyes as Molly pulled his loose shirt over his head and bared his scarred, tattooed torso for all to see. 

“What the rest of you should be doing,” he replied brightly, unlacing his trousers as he spoke. 

“We’re in the middle of the woods, Molly,” Fjord pointed out, as though he’d forgotten. 

“Yep,” Molly continued, shoving his trousers down his legs and leaving himself in nothing but underwear, which were also damp, but he decided to spare for the sake of keeping Caleb conscious, since the wizard was staring at him with dangerously wide eyes, frozen in the act of hunching over the fire and warming his hands. 

“Oh good, are we all getting naked?” Jester asked, her loud voice announcing her arrival as she bounced back into camp with Yasha, both of them carrying armfuls of wood for the fire. 

“The sensible ones of us are,” Molly said, giving Yasha a light tap with his tail as she passed him. 

“Why?” Nott asked, peering up at him from where she was crouching beside the fire. 

“Because we’re all soaked to our skins with freezing lake water,” he told her, “And if you don’t want to catch your death, you’ll take your clothes off, hang them up to dry by the fire, and huddle together with everyone under blankets to get warm,” he explained. 

There was a silence as the group digested his words then, one by one, they each seemed to see sense in the plan, and slowly began to strip off their clothes, too. Some enthusiastically (Jester), and some reluctantly, (Nott), but each of them did it in their own way and at their own pace. 

All except one. 

Caleb remained beside the fire in his long, tattered cloak, dripping, arms folded, that stubborn look coming over his face. 

“I will be just fine, thank you,” he said firmly. 

Molly walked over to him as Jester summoned Nott and Fjord over to her with promises of being their ‘tiefling hot water bottle’ for the night, and Yasha began wordlessly distributing blankets, glancing back at him but not saying anything. 

“I understand,” Molly said, quietly, “That you might not relish the thought of getting naked in front of everyone,” he began. 

Caleb made a soft, disbelieving sound in the back of his throat, “I doubt that you,” he informed his own feet, not looking at Molly, “Understand.” 

Molly raised an eyebrow at him, and waited until Caleb stole a glance up at him before he said, “You don’t think I’ve ever been reluctant to let people see my body?” 

“No,” Caleb said, so quickly, and with such firmness, bordering on reverence, in his tone, that Molly found himself smiling in spite of himself. 

“I’m flattered,” he said, warmly, leaning in just a little and letting his warm breath tickle the shell of Caleb’s ear, “But I promise you, I do understand what it feels like to not be uncomfortable in your own skin, to not want other people to see it. But you are going to freeze to death if you don’t take those clothes off and come and get warm with the rest of us.” 

“I appreciate your concern,” Caleb said, stiffly, “But I will be fine.” 

With that, he marched over to the other side of the fire that the rest of the huddle was happening, sat down, and stared resolutely into the flames, clearly considering this conversation done. 

Molly hesitated, opening his mouth to say something else, but he was interrupted by Jester’s voice, “Molly! They’re stealing all of my good tiefling heat away! I need you to come and help me stop the cold people from dying.” 

He gave one last look towards Caleb, then sloped over and allowed Jester to envelope him in her blankets. 

Half an hour later, exhausted from their fight, and designating him on watch since he was ‘the most awake’ according to Jester, the rest of his group had fallen together in a strange, lumpy pile on the forest floor, curled around one another for warmth, buried in blankets. 

Glancing across to the other side of the camp, Molly carefully extracted himself, wrapped in a single blanket, and padded towards Caleb, who was still dressed in his water-logged clothes, shivering as a drip of water fell from one lock of his auburn hair and splattered against the ground. 

“Caleb,” Molly murmured, quietly, “Come here.” 

He extended a hand towards him. The fire that Caleb had kept roaring all this time with occasional spells caught the lights of the rings on his fingers, and cast a strange, obsidian sheen on the tips of his black claws. 

Caleb stared at the hand for a very long time, but didn’t take it. 

“What are you going to do?” he asked, eyeing Molly warily. 

Molly laughed softly, “So suspicious,” he purred, padding a little closer, his tail lashing from side-to-side in worry. He only bothered to try and make it behave when Jester was around, since he doubted the others could read anything from it. 

“I’m going to stop you freezing to death, you idiot,” he said simply, hand still extended. Caleb still didn’t move. “Trust me,” Molly murmured, his words only for the darkness and the wizard staring up at him, the firelight glinting on his pale eyes making them look strangely opaque and ghostly. “I should think I’d proved myself quite adept at keeping you alive after all this time.” 

Caleb stared at him for another long, thundering heartbeat, then he let a soft laugh huff past his lips. He reached up and grabbed Molly’s forearm, letting him pull him to his feet. 

He stepped in close to Caleb, close enough to breathe in the scent of earth that seemed to cling to him. It was a good scent, a safe, soft scent that made Molly think of a home he couldn’t remember, yet still somehow felt and longed for. 

They were almost painfully close now,  Caleb still fully clothed, Molly with nothing but a thin blanket draped about his shoulders. It was a closeness that implied intimacy by its very nature, a closeness that Caleb would have fled from mere months ago, but that he now seemed to lean in to.

“Everyone else is asleep,” he told Caleb, his voice low and smooth, like the thick feeling in the air after a thunderstorm, heavy with words unsaid that nevertheless echoed between their chests. “It’s just you and me, now,” he continued, letting the darkness swallow his words as he swallowed the rhythmic sound of Caleb’s breathing, which was becoming faster by the minute.

Molly raised his eyes slowly and met Caleb’s, briefly, but enough. He raised his fingers to the small clasp of the simple cloak that Caleb had bought in Zadash, simple, not gaudy, not too loud, as he had once found Molly to be, and undid it with a soft snick, only audible because of the silence of the twilight that was closing around them.

“I will stop,” he said, his voice a steady, anchoring contrast to the nervous hitch in Caleb’s breathing, “The moment you say the word. But you do need to get out of these clothes and let them dry off.”

Caleb stared down at him for a long moment then, softly, he murmured a faint, “Alright,” in Zemnian, and gave Molly permission to continue.

He did so slowly. His fingers were deft and dextrous from the hours and hours he’d spent manipulating his card deck, and they could have had Caleb’s clothes from him faster than he could blink. A part of Molly, the part most closely connected to his boiling blood and swiftly lashing tail, wanted nothing more than that. But Caleb trembled slightly at the lightest touch of Molly’s hands, and so he forced himself to be slow, and calm, and controlled.

They didn’t speak as Molly slowly undid each of the clasps that held Caleb’s coat shut until it hung open and loose. Forcing himself to take slow, steady breaths, Molly slid it gently from his shoulders, and off his thin frame.

It always surprised him how much smaller, and slighter Caleb seemed without the bulky coat, that seemed to contain half his worldly possessions at any given time. He barely ever took it off, and Molly had simply learned to picture him wearing it, even though it more than doubled his bulk.

Gently, carefully, Molly arranged the cloak on one of the lines they had hung up with their clothes beside the fire.

As he turned and took a step away from him, he could have sworn Caleb shifted behind him, some instinctual part of him longing to be close to Molly, magnetically pulling him closer as he stepped away, as though they were connected by an invisible string of thread.

Molly gently unbuckled the belt around his waist, and lifted the brown tunic away, leaving him in only a ragged shirt Molly wasn’t sure he’d actually ever seen, buried as it normally was beneath other layers of clothing.

He hung that up as well, then moved his hands to the laces which had pulled the shirt tight closed around Caleb’s collar. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat and withdrew slightly. Molly stopped at once, glancing up enquiringly at him.

“The rest first,” Caleb gritted out hoarsely.

Molly gazed at him for a long moment, but said nothing before dropping to his knees and beginning to ease off Caleb’s boots.

The longer he spent with him, Molly noticed, his hands always deft and careful, taking care to establish an iron wall of boundaries between them, and refusing to step across it, let his touches be anything but respectful and casual, the more Caleb seemed to lean into him, as though seeking more, more contact, more intimacy. As though he too fantasised about, and longed for, the searing kiss of skin against skin.  

After what might have been minutes, or hours, or several days spent suspended entirely in darkness, not even the sun daring to disturb this moment, Caleb stood before Molly in nothing but the shirt he had still not allowed him to remove.

Molly straightened up and turned to face him, “This now,” he said softly, but Caleb withdrew as though his hands blazed with heat, and were like to burn him if they made contact.

“Mollymauk,” Caleb began, not looking at him, though he shifted uncomfortably in place, still trembling violently.

And though he was still wet, and no doubt frozen to his bones, something told Molly this was from more than just cold.

“What is it, Caleb?” he asked, as gently as he could, taking a cautious step closer, but not moving to touch him again.

Before he quite knew what was happening, Caleb’s hand was gripping his wrist, his fingers, thick with cold and what he could now see in his eyes was fear, fumbling until they managed to intertwine with his.

He still didn’t look at Molly, his eyes fixed firmly on a spot between their bare feet, but his grip on his hand was like iron.

Molly responded with softness, pulsing his hand gently, like a heartbeat, trying to reassure him.

“You have to understand,” Caleb began, shaking more violently than ever, and Molly couldn’t help himself from taking another step closer, his tail curling instinctively, protectively, around Caleb’s waist. “I, I am not- It, it is not...Not pretty. What is underneath.” His eyes darted nervously up, caught Molly’s for a second, then fell once more as he whispered hoarsely, “I am not pretty.”

Molly didn’t have any idea what this was in reference to. But he said, as staunchly and firmly as he could, “I don’t need you to be pretty, Caleb, I just need you not to freeze to death.”

This seemed both the wrong, and the right thing to say, for Caleb both deflated, but also nodded his head.

Hesitating due to the mixed signals, it was with surprise that Molly felt the hand that was still held in Caleb’s slowly rise. Caleb placed it flat against his own chest, right on top of the tightly tied laces, a clear invitation and nod of approval.

Molly watched him for a long moment, but Caleb neither spoke, nor met his eye, nor reacted at all. So, resigned, he gently tugged on the tight bow and began undoing the laces.

Neither of them seemed to breathing as they did so and, strangely, Molly felt as though this was more intimate, and more important, than the kisses he had dreamed of stealing lately, more so even than the sex he had found himself fantasising about more and more often, late at night, when he was alone on watch, or when he found himself unable to sleep.

Caleb helped him pull the shirt over his head, baring him, but for all his reaction to finally standing before Molly all but naked, he may as well have been carved from stone.

Molly hung the shirt up beside the rest of Caleb’s things, then turned back to him in time to see him jerk his arms instinctively to cover his torso. It was an empty gesture, however. For all that that concealed, there was far more that the firelight, and Molly’s eyes, accustomed as they were to darkness, revealed.

Creeping across Caleb’s chest, shoulders, and up the left side of his neck, where the scarf he wore usually covered, and which he had kept carefully angled towards the darkness the whole time Molly had undressed him, was a twisted pattern of what was, clearly, burn scars.

They covered the entirety of his upper body, and made Caleb’s aversion to fire instantly understandable.

Molly reached out instinctively and brushed the tips of his fingers against Caleb’s shoulder.

Caleb jerked back at once as though Molly had slapped him, hunching in further, attempting to hide more of the scars.

“I’m sorry,” Molly said, his voice hoarse, his throat tight. “I didn’t hurt you-“

“No,” Caleb said at once. Then, more quietly, calmly, “No. You did not.”

“They don’t hurt, do they?” he asked softly.

Caleb looked up and said, with surprising candour for the way he still tried to hide while he bared his darkest secrets before Molly and the watching stars overhead, “Do yours?”

“Sometimes,” Molly admitted.

A shiver rippled through him as, unbidden, he remembered the nights he had woken, thrashing, held down by Yasha’s strong arms, as phantom pains from injuries he couldn’t remember but still carried tattooed across his skin and his soul, had wrenched him from sleep and tormented him to the point of near madness, where he had wished with every last, strangled, agonised breath in his lungs for the merciful oblivion of such insanity. Or better still, death.

Caleb briefly met his eyes, then nodded and said quietly, in a way that made Molly quite sure he understood everything that word contained for them, “Sometimes.”

Caleb angled his body slightly away from Molly, seeming to want to pull his clothes from the line, put them on, and flee into the woods where he would never need to be looked at again.

Unable to bear the self-loathing implicit in every twisted line of his body, Molly moved closer and said, softly, his voice shaking uncontrollably now, “Caleb.” He reached out and gently took Caleb’s hand, which was still pressed over his chest, trying to hide himself. “Please,” Molly whispered imploringly, putting a very gentle pressure on the hand, just enough to communicate what he was asking for.

Slowly, reluctantly, Caleb relaxed, and allowed Molly to draw both of his hands away from himself, baring the ruin of his chest completely to Molly.

“I am sorry,” he bit out at last, his words clipped and his tone black.

“Don’t,” Molly snapped out, harsher than he had intended. He squeezed Caleb’s hands gently and repeated, his voice softer this time, “Please don’t apologise. Not to me.”

Caleb looked up at him and seemed to understand what those words, the tremor in them, meant.

“How do you do it?” he rasped, very deliberately, more deliberately than usual, even, not looking at Molly as he said it.

“Do what?” Molly asked, cocking his head slightly to one side.

“How do you-“Caleb broke off and gestured hopelessly, a broad circle that seemed to encompass Molly as a whole, “How do you...How are you so open about yourself, about, about-“

The word got caught in his throat, but Molly supplied it for him, “My scars?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

Caleb nodded jerkily, then continued. “How do you not seem to care about what other people think of you?”

Molly laughed softly, “There’s no secret to it, Caleb,” he said, shaking his head, “I just genuinely don’t care. I don’t give a damn what people think of me. Whatever it is that goes through their heads when they see me, they’re welcome to it. I spent too long hiding, and censoring myself for other people’s benefit. It got very tiring, very quickly.”

“But-“ Caleb began, brow furrowed, apparently not able to process this way of thinking.

“Caleb,” Molly interrupted him, “Look at me.” Caleb did so, and he said, “What do you see?”

“I see...You,” Caleb said, frowning again, apparently confused by this question.

Molly huffed a soft laugh, and allowed a brief interruption to the moment to press a swift kiss to Caleb’s forehead. “Alright, what do you think other people see when they look at me?”

“Well..I imagine that they see you, as well,” Caleb replied, looking more confused by the moment.

Molly resisted the urge to sigh with great difficulty.

“No,” he said, patiently. “They don’t see me. They see a monster.” Caleb opened his mouth, looking as though he wanted to protest, but Molly pressed a long, thin finger against his lips, stopping him. “They see a purple demon covered in tattoos, and piercings, and scars, with burning red eyes looking like it crawled out of one of the Nine Hells to be a perfect, living representation of the things that haunt their children’s nightmares.”

“That was a very detailed description, Molly,” Caleb muttered, “I think you might have given this too much thought.”

Molly continued, as though he hadn’t heard, “I can’t control what people think of me. If they look at me and scowl, or hurry their children to the other side of the road, then they’ve told me more about themselves than they ever learned about me from a single look. You only get one life, and it’s too short for me to bother limiting myself, and my existence, to try and provide some kind of hollow comfort for those that don’t deserve it.”

He shrugged as Caleb frowned, apparently digesting all of this.

“I might get fewer stares, and people spitting at me, if I didn’t have these,” he gestured towards his jewellery, “Or these,” he indicated the elaborate tattoos covering his skin, “Or these,” he pointed at the scars that criss-crossed his chest, “But they’re each a part of who I am, and if there’s one I will never apologise for, it’s of being entirely who I am. I can’t be anyone else, and trying is just a waste of my time. And it doesn’t improve matters. Trust me, I’ve tried everything, and it’s not worth it.”

Caleb bowed his head again, only to raise it once more as Molly’s fingertips brushed over his ribs, just above his heart.

“I won’t tell you they’re beautiful,” he said quietly, “Because they’re not. And I won’t stand here and lie through my teeth to you, or give you words you know are empty, because they don’t help. I know they don’t help.”

He stepped closer, their bodies pressed flush now. The kiss of bare skin burning between them was everything he had been craving since he had stepped away from the group and approached Caleb, everything and more.

“But I will tell you,” Molly breathed softly, stepping in closer, and brushing a stray lock of hair that had fallen into Caleb’s eyes back, “That I think you are beautiful.”

Caleb shivered at that, but it was no longer from cold. The heat eminating from Molly’s body seemed to have done him good, and there was a dull, warm flush of colour spreading up his neck and into his cheeks.

“Danke,” he whispered hoarsely.

He shifted, raising his head to look up at Molly, jolting slightly in surprise when his forehead knocked against the tip.

Amazingly, Caleb laughed softly at that. He looked so beautiful in that moment, so free, and vulnerable held in Molly’s arms, that he couldn’t help himself. Molly reached out, his claws grazing ever so gently along the line of Caleb’s jaw, rough with a faint dusting of stubble.

“Caleb,” he breathed softly to him, delicately cupping his face in his hand. “My promise to you still stands,” he shifted slightly, pressing their bodies even closer, “If you say stop, I will.” He leaned in, mindful of his horns and the jewellery that dangled from them as he tilted his hand, the fingers underneath Caleb’s chin tipping it slightly upwards without resistance, as he breathed softly against his lips, “But if you don’t...I’m going to kiss you.”

“Molly,” Caleb whispered back, his eyes fluttering closed, his lips slightly parted.

“Yes?” he rasped, not sure how much longer his brittle patience could stand the roiling tension between them before he snapped.

Caleb’s hand slid slowly up his spine before his fingers wound their way deep into Molly’s hair, “I’m not saying stop.”

So Molly kissed him.

And kept kissing him. He kissed him long, and deep, and slow. He kissed him with his fingers gripping tightly at his hair, and his claws biting gently into Caleb’s hip. He kissed him blind, and deaf, and utterly oblivious to the rest of the world watching them. He kissed him until they were both breathless, and panting, even as they held each other, arm’s around each other’s waists, soft, disbelieving little laughs on their lips.

“Come here,” Molly murmured softly against Caleb’s neck, drawing him gently down onto the ground with a soft groan, his body starting to ache after the beating he’d taken earlier, “We need to sleep.”

“Are you quite sure about that?” Caleb murmured, still breathless, twisting around and surprising him with another kiss.

“Caleb,” Molly said, in mock-shock, eyes wide, “How very forward of you,” he mumbled thickly against his lips.

This kiss was broken by a faint groan of pain on Molly’s end, and Caleb drew away, concern replacing the lust in his eyes.

“Might have bruised a few ribs,” Molly said, leaning in and stealing another messy kiss, “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he continued, propping himself up on a hand and holding his body over Caleb.

The confidence of this statement was somewhat undercut as another spasm of pain flashed through him and he all but collapsed on top of Caleb.

“Hm,” the wizard said, delicately shifting Molly off to the side, “Perhaps you’re right,” he said, “Sleep.” Molly opened his mouth to argue, but Caleb gave him a suddenly stern look and repeated firmly, in a tone that allowed for no argument, “Sleep, Molly.”

Grumbling, Molly folded his body around Caleb’s, warming him, his tail coiling around his ankle, connecting them.

He let Caleb’s body relax, becoming soft and pliant in his arms as he settled against him, before he leaned up and nipped gently at Caleb’s neck, just below his ear, with his fangs and whispered, “But tomorrow...You’re mine.”

Caleb shivered again and Molly smiled, feeling rather pleased with himself as he tugged the blanket up over them and pulled Caleb closer.

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

TPWP Chapter 19 Spoilers!!!

Hi guys!! So, in chapter 19 of TPWP there are some, uh... naughty bits. And I know not everyone is a fan of that sort of thing, so I wrote a summary of that part, and figured I’d post it here for simplicities sake and just link it in the chapter itself. The summary starts a fair bit before the sexual part starts, just to be safe. 

Please don’t read this post unless you’ve read the chapter first!! It will absolutely not make sense otherwise, ha. 

Summary is below the read more. 

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

After thinking long and hard about how to help Taka relax, Mondo comes upon an idea that makes him freeze. Taka is concerned and questions Mondo, getting more concerned when Mondo acts very flustered. 

 After a minute, Mondo steels himself and tells Taka about his idea. He makes allusions at first, referring subtly to their conversation at Halloween before they began walking around. It takes him a moment, but eventually Taka remembers the conversation and realizes that Mondo is talking about pleasuring himself, which horrifies Taka. 

 Mondo notices Taka’s distress but he doesn’t let it stop him, and he continues to ask Taka about the topic, to Taka’s obvious distress. After a bit of a back and forth, Taka getting more and more distressed, Taka eventually reveals that he doesn’t do that sort of thing not just because he finds it immoral, but because he doesn’t know how, and then eventually reveals that the thought of it makes him vaguely sick. A big part of it, he privately thinks, is because of how he’s gay and was always privately ashamed of that fact growing up. There is also the fact that he never felt any physical attraction towards women, and refused to think of men that way. 

 Taka is visibly distressed by this point, near tears, and Mondo is very concerned for him. Taka claims that he thinks he may be broken (which, by the by, is a very ace thing, and please know that if you do not feel sexual attraction or desire there is nothing wrong with you at all), which Mondo fervently denies. Taka asks to stop talking about it, but Mondo refuses, seeing the pain it causes Taka and not being able to stand the thought of Taka thinking himself broken. 

 Then he freezes, clearly having an idea that somewhat distresses him. After prompting from Taka, Mondo reveals that he might be able to help, implying that he can help Taka learn how to please himself by, ya know… showing him how to do it personally. Which, very obviously, freaks out Taka. 

 However, after Mondo says they’ve already seen one another private parts, plus they are bros, obviously, and bros help bros, Taka agrees. He professes being reluctant, even in his thoughts, but internally he is privately very keen on the idea. So… no consent issues, I promise. 

 Soon, they are both down to their underwear and undershirts, Taka doing his best to not hyperventilate. Mondo tells Taka to relax, how he’s too worked up about this to do anything, while promising that this will change nothing between them. Taka believes him, and so he thinks about going to the beach with his parents when he was about five, which helps relax him. 

 He and Mondo talk a bit about how to go about this, since they’re both very inexperienced with this sort of thing. After a bit, Mondo says that he should just show Taka what to do, which is implied means he will pleasure himself in front of Taka. Which Taka professes disinterest in, but privately is very excited to see. While he is the Ultimate Moral Compass, he is a teenage boy who is very attracted to Mondo, after all. 

 Mondo can sense Taka’s reluctance, though, and starts getting nervous himself, realizing what exactly he is offering to do. He finally offers Taka an out, claiming that he thinks Taka should still try and work this out himself since he is positive it will help his tension, but he doesn’t want to force Taka to do anything. He gets very distressed, and Taka hates seeing Mondo upset. So, he comforts Mondo and somehow manages to convince Mondo that he wants this too, without giving away the fact he is physically attracted to Mondo. Mondo doubts Taka at first, but after a moment he sees that Taka is sincere and gains his courage and determination back. And then…

 (Sexual bit starts here)

 Mondo remove his boxers, which excites Taka more than he would be willing to say. Taka doesn’t even try and look away from Mondo’s privates, firmly not thinking about anything and letting his desire take over. He takes off his briefs when Mondo mentions it (Mondo clearly excited about seeing Taka), but he’s still focused solely on Mondo, brain mush. More so when Mondo grabs hold of himself. 

 Mondo coughs awkwardly which reminds Taka that he is supposed to be doing what Mondo is, jolting him back to some modicum of reality. He looks at himself and touches himself, but it feels wrong to him. Like he shouldn’t be doing it. And while he is very aroused and wants to enjoy it, he can’t quite make himself enjoy it like he should. 

 Mondo continues showing Taka what to do (clearly aroused by Taka, but Taka doesn’t realize this), and Taka looks back at him, copying Mondo’s moves. However, while he is very aroused, it still feels so wrong to him. He knows he’s not doing it right, but he can’t figure out how to fix it, and he’s just having a bad time, even though he enjoys watching and listening to Mondo. 

 (The sexual bit stops briefly here, so if you want to go and read this bit in the story itself, you may. It’s after the first double asterisk (**) but before the second single asterisk (*). I will be summarizing this part too if you’d like, though.) 

 Eventually, Taka has enough and asks to stop, which Mondo does immediately, very concerned about Taka, who is breathing heavy and is near tears, feeling ashamed of himself. He worries that they just ruined their friendship doing this and that he’s just broken and wrong. Mondo asks if he’s okay, clearly very concerned for Taka, and Taka replies that he doesn’t think he can do it, saying that maybe he literally, physically can’t, and apologizing to Mondo, asking him yet again to not hate him. 

 This makes Mondo very unhappy and upset, and he promises Taka that he would never hate him, saying that maybe they can do— something that he cuts off, visibly shaken by his thoughts like earlier. Taka is not in the right mind to even feel concerned, and Mondo continues quickly, saying he has a stupid idea, but that they might as well do this after risking their whole friendship thus far. He then asks Taka to walk over to the wall, claiming he will explain when they get there. 

 Mind still non functional, Taka does what Mondo asks without question. Once at the wall, Mondo tells him to face and lean against it, before stepping up behind him, exciting Taka somewhat, since they are still not wearing anything below the waist. 

 Mondo explains then that his idea was that maybe Taka’s problem was just the fact he was touching himself and that had made him nervous. But, perhaps if someone else were touching him, it would teach him how to do it for himself, very clearly implying Mondo himself should be the person who touches Taka. 

 Taka lets out an unintentional noise, freaking Mondo out. Mondo claims that they don’t have to, that it’s okay, claiming he refuses to force Taka and that he will never touch him without explicit consent, even going so far as to say that he will leave Taka alone forever if he is too uncomfortable with the offer. 

 But Taka is not. Taka very much is not. Cutting Mondo off, he breathily says he wants it, mind shutting off completely as his arousal takes over yet again. But Mondo is not satisfied with that, claiming he needs to hear Taka say ‘yes,’ that he won’t do anything until he knows for absolute certainty that Taka wants him to do it. And so Taka says he does, that he wants to do it and that he wants Mondo, revealing more than intended, but neither boy really notices. Mondo presses closer, then, and tells Taka to pretend it’s himself touching him, not Mondo. He also tells Taka that if he wants to stop for whatever reason, to tell him and he will no questions asked. Taka readily agrees. 

 And then…

 (Sexual bit restarts here) 

 Mondo touches Taka’s privates, which shorts Taka’s brain out entirely, so full of desire and lust. Little does he know, so is Mondo, who finds the whole thing a whole heck of a lot more arousing than a supposedly ‘straight’ man should. 

 Mondo proceeds to, ahem, touch Taka quite enthusiastically, cursing and moaning when Taka moans. Mondo is very clearly enjoying himself, which Taka is able to tell even in his addled state. Taka is enjoying himself very, very much, too, but he still feels some lingering shame, for reasons that are not stated but can be any number of things already stated, really. 

 But then Mondo is speaking, saying how he hadn’t realized how amazing this was going to feel for him, calling Taka baby and beautiful and saying some very dirty things. Taka is more aroused than ever, but he’s also afraid, knowing that this is a lot more than either of them bargained for and he doesn’t know where this is going to lead. If Mondo will hate him when they’re done and his brain comes back online. Or if he will hate himself. 

 But then Mondo is biting his neck, which shorts out Taka’s brain again, and he feels so desperate and so into it but is still a little resistant and scared, but then Mondo is talking again. Mondo says how he wants Taka, that he hadn’t realized how much he wanted Taka until then, but that he will never let him go now that he has felt this. He says how he has been silently turned on by Taka’s wet dreams and it freaked him out, not knowing what it meant at first, but realizing now that he’s doing this what it means, claiming he’s not afraid anymore. 

 Actually… this part is kind of important, so I’m going to post the whole dialogue, censoring the naughty bits. It’s still a bit naughty, but it’s more mature than explicit, so… yeah. 

 “Come on, come on, I know ya feel it, I know ya want it, I fuckin’ know ya, Kiyo, I know what ya fuckin’ like, I can tell ya want this. Give in. Give in ta me, let me take ya apart, I wanna see ya fall apart. An’ I’ll put ya back together, I promise I will, I ain’t ever leavin’ ya, not now... n-not now that I know how fuckin’ amazin’ ya feel, how beautiful ya look when yer falling apart, how fuckin’ incredible ya taste... I want ya, all a’ ya, ya have no idea how much ya’ve been drivin’ me crazy this week, pressin’ tight ta me, moanin’ in yer sleep, humpin’ my fuckin’ leg... made me feel so fuckin’ dirty, wantin’ ya, wantin’ ta *do very naughty things*, didn’t know the fuck it meant, was so fuckin’ scared but I ain’t fuckin’ scared, not a’ this, not anymore. I want you, Kiyo, I want you ta *Mondo this is a Wholesome Family Fic (TM), please stop being so crude :-(*”

 Anyway… Taka is very turned on by the words, and then he is watching Mondo as he Does Things to him, and then he’s ‘releasing,’ the whole thing feeling a bit like a religious experience. Soon after, so is Mondo, and Taka is struck by the realization that he and Mondo had pretty much just had sex, and yet he doesn’t even mind, not at all, because it was just so….

 Perfect. 

~ 

And scene!!! Hope that made sense, y’all, ha. I know it was a bit bare bones, but I wrote it quickly while tired, so sorry. It should explain roughly what happened in the story so you’re not confused for the end part and the next few chapters, ha. 

[hands-up-that-was-my-fault]

Ond Cefais Ddal Di Chi //But I Could Catch You  Eggsy Unwin X Fem!Reader

Author’s Note: Hi! This is my first Eggsy Unwin fic and it will be multiple parts so if you’re up for some angst, fluff and maybe a little bit of smut here and there, you’ll enjoy Ond Cefais Ddal Di Chi

(ALSO i totally just translated the title in google translate so if any of you can actually read Welsh and that sounds ridiculous, please let me know xx) 

Warnings: Swearing (of course), some implied traumatic experiences, a little bit of gore, Eggsy being a soft caring boy, partial nudity (for relevant reasons) 

Rain pelted down against the roof of Eggsy’s flat. The muffled drum eased a sense of calm into his bones as he began to strip down and slide into bed. His consciousness was drifting slowly.

Until he heard a feverish knock against his front door. It was urgent and hard and it was nearly 3 in the morning so he decided it must be important. As he was getting up, the knocking ceased but was replaced by a singular loud thump.

Looking through the mail slot, Eggsy could see the top of a head, their hair matted and wet from the rain. He opened the door. The girl tumbled back and into Eggsy’s arms. She was injured. Badly.

Her scratched up legs looked an awful bloody mess and there were deep wounds all around her thighs. “Fuck. You’ll be alright. I’ve got you, luv.” Eggsy pulled her back into the apartment, her limp arms wrapping around him, looking for warmth after shivering in the cold rain. She was freezing and Eggsy pulled her right up against his bare chest and lifted her without thought. She was losing a fair amount of blood and he needed to get her to the bathroom so he could patch her up.

“Hold on to me, luv. Stay with me. What’s your name beautiful?” He set the unnamed women on the counter top, her back resting against the mirror. Her eyes fluttered and she tried desperately to pull the oversized shirt she was wearing closer to her soaking body. “I’m sorry sweetheart but you’ll catch a chill in this. I’m going to fix you up and then we can get you in some warm clothes okay?”

The girl gave a nod and soft groan in response. Her dripping form was only covered by two items of clothing; she wore an oversized grey shirt and her underwear. Obviously something atrocious had befallen this poor girl and Eggsy felt a pang in his chest at the thought of what she may have gone through to sustain such injuries.

Some of her fingers were sliced and there were sharp, evenly spaced cuts around her ankle.

“I’m so sorry luv, but I’m going to need to take this off to see if you’ve got any injuries under here.” He spoke in a calm, soft voice, tugging gently on the hem of the wet shirt. To Eggsy’s surprise, the girl just nodded and raised her arms as much she could.

Eggsy continued to speak to her as he bandaged her up. Not about anything important, just talking so she could focus on something that wasn’t pain. When he had taken care of every cut and iced every bruise briefly, he lifted her in his arms again and carried her to the bedroom.

Upon seeing the bed, she squirmed and wriggled in Eggsy’s grasp. He sighed inwardly at the thought of why she’d be so uncomfortable at the sight of the very thing made for comfort. He eased her down onto the bed and smoothed down her hair. “I’m just going to get you some warm clothes. I’m not going to hurt you darlin’. I’m not going to hurt you.” He repeated, stroking her hair softly until she relaxed a bit. “Stay here, sweetheart.”

He found the warmest sweater he could and some track pants and brought them back over for her. Immediately he started to redress her, concerned for how long she had been almost naked. He heard her sigh slightly as the warm cotton engulfed her shaking form and it made him smile briefly.

When she was fully clothed, her laid her back on the bed and pulled the duvet over her shivering body. “I’ll get you some water and some ibuprofen.” As he stood to leave, her hand reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back with some force until he fell softly back onto the bed. Eggsy’s mouth curved up slightly. She was looking up at him now and he could see the brilliant and seemingly endless y/e/c of her eyes. “You want me to stay?”

She nodded and pulled his arm gently again. It’d been so long since she had had real human contact. Caring human contact. Contact that wasn’t meant to hurt her. It felt like it did in her dreams when he lifted the overs and slid into bed beside her, resting a hand carefully on her side. “I’m Gary but everyone I care about calls me Eggsy. You can call me that too if you want.”

Her voice was soft when it drifted from her mouth and the sound, although being a little hoarse, was like a sweet kiss to Eggsy’s ears.

“I’m Y/n.”

[thecaffeinebookwarrior]

Internal Conflict:  Five Conflicting Traits of a Likable Hero.

1.  Flaws and Virtues 

I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but characters without flaws are boring.  This does not, as many unfortunate souls take it to mean, imply that good, kind, or benevolent characters are boring:  it just means that without any weaknesses for you to poke at, they tend to be bland-faced wish fulfillment on the part of the author, with a tendency to just sit there without contributing much to the plot.

For any character to be successful, they need to have a proportionate amount of flaws and virtues.

Let’s take a look at Stranger Things, for example, which is practically a smorgasbord of flawed, lovable sweethearts.

We have Joyce Byers, who is strung out and unstable, yet tirelessly works to save her son, even when all conventional logic says he’s dead;  We have Officer Hopper, who is drunken and occasionally callous, yet ultimately is responsible for saving the boy’s life;  We have Jonathan, who is introspective and loving, but occasionally a bit of a creeper, and Nancy, who is outwardly shallow but proves herself to be a strong and determined character.  Even Steve, who would conventionally be the popular jerk who gets his comeuppance, isn’t beyond redemption.

And of course, we have my beloved Eleven, who’s possibly the closest thing Stranger Things has to a “quintessential” heroine.  She’s the show’s most powerful character, as well as one of the most courageous.  However, she is also the show’s largest source of conflict, as it was her powers that released the Demogorgon to begin with.  

Would Eleven be a better character if this had never happened?  Would Stranger Things be a better show?  No, because if this had never happened, Stranger Things wouldn’t even be a show.  Or if it was, it would just be about a bunch of cute kids sitting around and playing Dungeons and Dragons in a relatively peaceful town.

A character’s flaws and mistakes are intended to drive the plotline, and if they didn’t have them, there probably wouldn’t even be a plot.

So don’t be a mouth-breather:  give your good, kind characters some difficult qualities, and give your villains a few sympathetic ones.  Your work will thank you for it.

2.  Charisma and Vulnerability

Supernatural has its flaws, but likable leads are not one of them.  Fans will go to the grave defending their favorite character, consuming and producing more character-driven, fan-created content than most other TV shows’ followings put together.

So how do we inspire this kind of devotion with our own characters?  Well, for starters, let’s take a look at one of Supernatural’s most quintessentially well-liked characters:  Dean Winchester.

From the get-go, we see that Dean has charisma:  he’s confident, cocky, attractive, and skilled at what he does.  But these qualities could just as easily make him annoying and obnoxious if they weren’t counterbalanced with an equal dose of emotional vulnerability. 

As the show progresses, we see that Dean cares deeply about the people around him, particularly his younger brother, to the point of sacrificing himself so that he can live.  He goes through long periods of physical and psychological anguish for his benefit (though by all means, don’t feel obligated to send your main character to Hell for forty years), and the aftermath is depicted in painful detail.

Moreover, in spite of his outward bravado, we learn he doesn’t particularly like himself, doesn’t consider himself worthy of happiness or a fulfilling life, and of course, we have the Single Man Tear(TM).

So yeah, make your characters beautiful, cocky, sex gods.  Give them swagger.  Just, y’know.  Hurt them in equal measure.  Torture them.  Give them insecurities.  Make them cry.  

Just whatever you do, let them be openly bisexual.  Subtext is so last season.

3.  Goals For the Future and Regrets From the Past

Let’s take a look at Shadow Moon from American Gods.  (For now, I’ll have to be relegate myself to examples from the book, because I haven’t had the chance to watch the amazing looking TV show.) 

Right off the bat, we learn that Shadow has done three years in prison for a crime he may or may not have actually committed.  (We learn later that he actually did commit the crime, but that it was only in response to being wronged by the true perpetrators.)  

He’s still suffering the consequences of his actions when we meet him, and arguably, for the most of the book:  because he’s in prison, his wife has an affair (I still maintain that Laura could have resisted the temptation to be adulterous if she felt like it, but that’s not the issue here) and is killed while mid-coital with his best friend.

Shadow is haunted by this for the rest of the book, to the point at which it bothers him more than the supernatural happenings surrounding him.  

Even before that, the more we learn about Shadow’s past, the more we learn about the challenges he faced:  he was bullied as a child, considered to be “just a big, dumb guy” as an adult, and is still wrongfully pursued for crimes he was only circumstantially involved in.

But these difficulties make the reader empathize with Shadow, and care about what happens to him.  We root for Shadow as he tags along with the mysterious and alternatively peckish and charismatic Wednesday, and as he continuously pursues a means to permanently bring Laura back to life.

He has past traumas, present challenges, and at least one goal that propels him towards the future.  It also helps that he’s three-dimensional, well-written, and as of now, portrayed by an incredibly attractive actor.

Of course (SPOILER ALERT), Shadow never does succeed in fully resurrecting Laura, ultimately allowing her to rest instead, but that doesn’t make the resolution any less satisfying.  

Which leads to my next example...       

4.  Failure and Success 

You remember in Zootopia, when Judy Hopps decides she wants to be cop and her family and town immediately and unanimously endorse her efforts?  Or hey, do you remember Harry Potter’s idyllic childhood with his kindhearted, adoptive family?  Oh!  Or in the X-Files, when Agent Mulder presents overwhelming evidence of extraterrestrial life in the first episode and is immediately given a promotion?  No?

Yeah, me neither.  And there’s a reason for this:  ff your hero gets what they want the entire time, it will be a boring, two-dimensional fantasy that no one will want to read.  

A good story is not about the character getting what they want.  A good story is about the character’s efforts and their journey.  The destination they reach could be something far removed from what they originally thought they wanted, and could be no less (if not more so) satisfying because of it.

Let’s look at Toy Story 3, for example:  throughout the entire movie, Woody’s goal is to get his friends back to their longtime owner, Andy, so that they can accompany him to college.  He fails miserably.  None of his friends believe that Andy was trying to put them in the attic, insisting that his intent was to throw them away.  He is briefly separated from them as he is usurped by a cute little girl and his friends are left at a tyrannical daycare center, but with time and effort, they’re reunited, Woody is proven right, and things seem to be back on track.

Do his efforts pay off?  Yes -- just not in the way he expected them to.  At the end of the movie, a college-bound Andy gives the toys away to a new owner who will play with them more than he will, and they say goodbye.  Is the payoff bittersweet?  Undoubtedly.  It made me cry like a little bitch in front of my young siblings.  But it’s also undoubtedly satisfying.      

So let your characters struggle.  Let them fail.  And let them not always get what they want, so long as they get what they need.  

5.  Loving and Being Loved by Others

Take a look back at this list, and all the characters on it:  a gaggle of small town kids and flawed adults, demon-busting underwear models, an ex-con and his dead wife, and a bunch of sentient toys.  What do they have in common?  Aside from the fact that they’re all well-loved heroes of their own stories, not much.

But one common element they all share is they all have people they care about, and in turn, have people who care about them.  

This allows readers and viewers to empathize with them possibly more than any of the other qualities I’ve listed thus far, as none of it means anything without the simple demonstration of human connection.

Let’s take a look at everyone’s favorite caped crusader, for example:  Batman in the cartoons and the comics is an easy to love character, whereas in the most recent movies (excluding the splendid Lego Batman Movie), not so much. 

Why is this?  In all adaptions, he’s the same mentally unstable, traumatized genius in a bat suit.  In all adaptions, he demonstrates all the qualities I listed before this:  he has flaws and virtues, charisma and vulnerability, regrets from the past and goals for the future, and usually proportionate amounts of failure and success.  

What makes the animated and comic book version so much more attractive than his big screen counterpart is the fact that he does one thing right that all live action adaptions is that he has connections and emotional dependencies on other people.  

He’s unabashed in caring for Alfred, Batgirl, and all the Robins, and yes, he extends compassion and sympathy to the villains as well, helping Harley Quinn to ultimately escape a toxic and abusive relationship, consoling Baby Doll, and staying with a child psychic with godlike powers until she died.

Cartoon Batman is not afraid to care about others.  He has a support network of people who care about him, and that’s his greatest strength.  The DC CU’s ever darker, grittier, and more isolated borderline sociopath is failing because he lacks these things.  

 And it’s also one of the reasons that the Lego Batman Movie remains so awesome.

God willing, I will be publishing fresh writing tips every week, so be sure to follow my blog and stay tuned for future advice and observations! 

[queenieschronicles]

Something Special

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: After a family meeting, the boys tease Tommy about marriage. Aunt Polly predicts he’ll find Mrs. Thomas Shelby soon.

Word Count: 2678

Warnings: Smut and cursing.

A/N: I honestly hope you guys enjoy this random idea that kept me up until 4 A.M.

The Shelby family remained lounging in the wager room after a family meeting. You sat on the stairs below Ada, who was plaiting a braid into your hair. You considered yourself fortunate that the family thought so highly of you. You were neither related through blood nor marriage, but they’d kept you close nonetheless.

Polly had been worried about the recent deals Tommy had been making. She’d done some digging with the help of Ada and the Londoners could not be trusted. You’d only mildly helped by pretending to be a flapper girl interested in a couple of “businessmen”. You were entirely too good at conversation.

The family meeting turned into quips. John had begged the point no one else could have gone undercover except for you because all the other girls were married women; all except Ada, but John claimed she was still a grieving widow.

Arthur took a stab at Tommy’s love life. He claimed he’d never find a woman at the rate he was aging.

“It’s not his age,” Ada roused from the stairwell,” it’s his goddamned moodiness.”

Laughter bellowed from everyone but Tommy, who was eyeing you with a look that didn’t forebode well with you. However, you’d never had trouble staring danger in the face. A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth and you turned your eyes away.

“Is it because you can’t get a girl off, Tommy?” John prodded him. “Or is it too small?” He grabbed at his junk. Ada and you groaned.

Polly slapped John,” Shut it, John. Your brother will find a wife in due time.” She glanced over at you, which caused you to look down at the floorboards. “Won’t you?”

Tommy didn’t even flinch. Arthur piped up before Tommy could reply,” She’s gotta have something no other woman has.”

“What, like three tits?” John leaned in. Esme seemed unamused from her seat next to John. You couldn’t help but laugh. Laughs were not in short supply around the family.

Tommy shook his head. “Enough,” he looked at his brothers,” it’s time to get back to work.” A short silence filled the air aside from a match sizzling. He took a puff before pointing the rollup at Arthur,” You go with him. The threat should be made by the real thing. Remember, no loose ends.”

Ada squeezed your shoulder,” All done.” You smiled, trailing your hand down the braid.

“Thanks, Ada.” She gave you a wink and excused herself. She had to pick up Karl.

Polly looked at Thomas,” What’re you gonna do?”

Tommy smiled,” I’m going to get ready for the races.”

Polly sighed in irritation. “Take (Y/N) with you Tommy. She might bring you some safety.”

You rose from your spot and straightened your skirts. You didn’t dare protest Polly’s wishes. Tommy didn’t scare you, but Polly was nigh close to God in her ways.

You skirted passed Tommy,” I’ll be ready in an hour. Don’t be late.”

Tommy was prompt. On the way, you listened to him describe the plan. There was no need for you to seduce any information out of anyone and he certainly didn’t want you to using any of Lizzie’s tactics. He wanted this to be a peaceful meeting, but you knew to always be ready for any violence. It followed Tommy like a loyal dog.

“I suppose you’ll just want me to play a broad on your arm.” You smiled sarcastically.

“There’s not a chance in hell I could get you to stay quiet.” He gave you a knowing look. Sometimes, it shook your core to know Tommy knew you so well and accepted it.

“You wouldn’t like me otherwise.” You turned away, your eyes focusing on the passing vendors.

“Hey,” He reached over, his index finger guiding your chin back toward him,” just don’t say anything that will get you in trouble.” His thumb brushed your lower lip.

You pushed his hand away, a devilish smirk on your lips,” Like the kind of trouble I got in with you?”

There was a dangerous flicker in his eye,” Yes, that very kind.”

You pulled up without further guidelines. You took him by the arm, your hand resting delicately on his bicep. The two of you gliding up stairs and down halls. You mapped every turn and exit in your head for a quick escape.

You made sure to smile generously at patrons and other ladies alike until you arrived at a guarded balcony. You were briefly stopped until the man sitting at a lounger saw Tommy. Tommy smiled smugly at the guard who tried to send him away.

Lighting a cigarette, Tommy took a seat on a wood-woven couch. The cushions were lavishly comfortable and you took a moment to delight in the luxury.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Shelby?”

You watched the man speaking with a careful eye. You never trusted the people Tommy dealt with; you figured they all wanted something more from him and that something more was often his life.

“Your friends – Allred and Hammond – can’t be trusted, Mr. Coleman.”

The man shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He dismissed the string of ladies around him. You could tell the man was unsure of your position, but he dismissed your presence and looked back at Tommy.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“He means anyone who crosses a Shelby is going to end up with lead in their head.” You held Coleman’s gaze with careful confidence.

You felt Tommy’s hand on your shoulder. You didn’t regret your words, but you knew how much peace with this man meant to Thomas. You didn’t back down.

The man grinned,” Where did you find this one?” He ate up your looks with his ravenous eyes.

Tommy smiled,” I found her in a whorehouse.”

You managed a friendly smile.

His face fell. He leaned forward, his elbows propping him up. “Allred and Hammond couldn’t be trusted with a simple alcohol smuggle. They’re too greedy. They’d double cross any man if there was a better deal offered to them.”

Thomas leaned back. He listened intently as Coleman spilled the intentions of the three gentleman. He claimed to be against double crossing Tommy and tipped him off to a Mr. Keller who had spoken to himself, Allred, and Hammond. The stranger wanted Tommy dead and the two goons – excluding Coleman – were willing to do it for a handsome sum.

You sat with a hot bile rising in your stomach. Rats the lot of them. Tommy was running a legal company nowadays, yet he still managed to get caught up in this mess.

Tommy nodded. “I can expect you to uphold the end of your deal.” Smoke drifted from Tommy’s nostrils. The man nodded obediently.

Tommy’s smile was confident, yet stoic. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Coleman. I’ll see you soon.”

All had ended well according to you. No guns. No fist fights. Not even a stain on your champagne gown.

“You could have caused a nasty fight.”

“You could have offended me.” You looked over at him with indifference.

“He was looking at you the wrong way.”

“I thought it only mattered if someone looked at Tommy Shelby the wrong way.”

His lopsided smile assured you that you amused him. You wondered where amusing him got you all these years.

“The only person who’s allowed to look at you that way is me.”

Your eyes raised in certain shock,” Says who?”

He pulled up to your house,” Me.”

You exited the car on your own. “I don’t obey the likes of you.”

“You don’t obey anyone.” He called after you.

“That’s the point.” You smiled over your shoulder. You finally opened the door after fumbling just a moment with your keys. In the dim lighting of your foyer you turned and waved goodnight to the man leaning against his car.

He had his hands in his coat pockets.

“Better see your way home, Mr. Shelby, before you catch a cold.” You hung in the doorway.

“Can’t see in this fog.” He cocked his head to the side, giving you an imploring eye.

“That’s why you had headlights.” You quipped.

He nodded. “Fair.” He began his walk toward you, first motioning toward the lights,” They’re broken though. I’d never make it.”

You rolled your eyes. “You could just ask to stay.”

“That would imply I want to stay here.”

“Do you take me for a fool, Tommy?” You looked up at him as he stopped in front of you.

He looked down at you. His eyes danced between yours. He brushed some hair behind your ear,” You? Lady (Y/L/N) of Birmingham?” He smiled,” Never.”

You let him in against your better judgement. Or perhaps, you let him in because you hadn’t the heart to tell him no.

“Lock up behind you.” You left him hanging there with a playful smile on his face.

You no sooner reached the stairs when he pursued you from behind. His hands met your waist. You closed your eyes and let him pull you in.

“I thought you’d last until we made it up the stairs at least.” You teased.

A low hum sounded in your ear as his lips pressed against your neck. You managed to get away from him, your hand pulling his along up the stairs.

It didn’t take long for him to get you on the bed. You had barely enough time to get your heels off. Your leg lifted to his side. His hand slid up your hosiery. His eyes warm and his breath steady. His brows twitched into confusion for just a moment.

“What’s this?” He looked at the dagger attached at your thigh. “Perhaps ladies fashion isn’t so frivolous. God knows what’s underneath.”

“Lingerie usually.” You winked.

“That’s just as dangerous.” He undid the sheath from the garter and tossed it away.

“ Mmm.” You purred in his ear.

His hands carried on up your thigh. He held you there, his lips leaving a trail blazing up your neck. He nipped at the hollow and you let out small intermittent moans.

He slipped his hand between your thighs. His thumb swiping across the cloth of your undergarments. You writhed underneath him, physically begging him to bring pleasure. He smirked against your neck as you bucked toward him. “I promise not to keep you waiting too much longer.”

He undid a lace at the side of your underwear. He discarded them with ease before returning to you attentively. He caressed your delicate skin before pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit. He massaged circles to elicit pleasure that spread from your pelvis to sound from your mouth.

Your breathing labored. Your hips swayed to get closer to him. He smiled down at you,” Patience. I want you to enjoy this.”

“You’re torture.” You managed through your breathing. You attempted to keep yourself grounded, but all you could think about was his hands.

Slick and ready, he slipped a finger into your core. You felt yourself shiver from delight. His thumb still rubbed and flicked at your clitoris. All these years, his animalistic grace made you wonder how well he was in bed. You weren’t disappointed.

The physicality with him made you painfully aware of just how connected you felt with him. It made you face that yearning and that core desire. You could see him smiling with his own pleasure. He’d made you feel a lot of ways, but none of them made him so excited as the pleasure and vulnerability you expressed now.

He thrust his fingers gently and tenderly. You clenched around him willing him to get you off. You hadn’t known you needed this until now. You were sure you’d be driven insane if he didn’t get you off soon.

His talented hands, confident and masterful, took what they wanted. Your hips circled brazenly on his fingers. You panted, feeling yourself rising with unbearable pressure.

“I want you to feel me. Understand, I’ll be the only one to move you to the edge like this. I’ll be the only one you think of, (Y/N).” His frank and calm voice hardened your nipples. You ached in your chest and your core.

The tension in your core built with great intensity. Your legs trembling. He massaged you tactfully and deliberately. His breathing shortening with his excitement.

“Come now, (Y/N). Give it up.” His voice strong and demanding.

Your knuckles whitened as you grappled at the sheets of your bed. Hot and searing you felt the pleasure ripple through you. With a hoarse cry, you climaxed over his fingers. Your core quaking violently. The blood in your ears was pounding and you felt disoriented. A strange haze clouding your mind.

You felt content to lay there forever. Your clit swollen and sensitive. Your slit trembled as you watched his unbutton his shirt and throw it to the side. His tweed pants easy coming off. You felt your throat constrict with a hot yearning which pooled in your lower stomach.

You thought it impossible to desire someone as ardently as you wanted him now.

He slipped his drawers down. He moved over you with a panther-like elegance. His hand gripping your waist fervently. In a swift and breathless motion, you felt yourself spin in the air until he was under you. You could feel the length of his growing hard against your back.

Even from such a position of authority, you still felt yourself under his steely gaze. His blue eyes pierced your soul in unfathomable ways.

You leaned down; his lips plump and soft. He allowed the tenderness, despite his cold and demanding ways. You leaned forward just enough to let him guide his cock to your slit. You quivered knowing the imminent feeling of him in you.

Tommy’s hands were rough against the silk of your skin. You leaned back onto him. You took his length with a hungry eagerness. Your neck bared as it tilted back and a silent moan parted your lips. You rode his length in such a breathless rhythm. A mist of perspiration dewed your skin.

His fingers tickled your skin as they trailed up and down your sides. His thumbs causing your nipples to prick at a single touch. He fondled you with delicacy.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

You placed a hand on his chest to steady yourself. Tender muscles contracted urgently against his cock. He bucked into you with primal power. You cried his name out. Succumbing to yet another orgasm, you leaned into him. Electricity crackled between your skin.

He kissed your shoulder gently. The two of you fell into a comfortable position. The both of you catching your breath.

“You should have worn a less lethal dress.” He huffed.

“You should have left while you still had your wits about you” You leaned over, your hand resting on his chest.

A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. He leaned up to kiss your forehead. You rested your head on his chest. You closed your eyes and synced your breathing to his. His fingers caressed your back affectionately.

“I know you don’t have three tits.” You opened one eye in confusion. “But you’re much more special than any woman I have ever met. You have no equal.”

“You’re my equal, Thomas.”

You could feel him smile. “Could I persuade you to be Mrs. Thomas Shelby?”

Your head perked. Your eyes searching his for some dark humor. He laced his fingers with yours. “I already told you no other man could pleasure you. I won’t stand for another man to touch you or have you. That means if you ever plan on orgasming at the touch of another, you’ll have to marry me.”

“You didn’t have to threaten my pleasure to get me to say yes.”

He grinned.

“I’ll be Mrs. Thomas Shelby, but don’t think I’ll be easier to handle.”

He pulled you in,” I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

He kissed you passionately. You nestled in to one another before sleep took you.

[roseamongroses]

Antithesis(12): “gays go feral briefly and i watched them burn”

[Specific-Summary]: With senior year approaching, some stresses are inevitable, and they’re certainly not looking forward to them, but for now it’s summer and it’s okay to breathe a little while longer.

[General Warnings]: Implied Emotional Abuse, Implied Physical Abuse, Bad Parents are Bad Parents, Mild Sexual Content/jokes, Mentioned Homophobia, Mentions of underage drinking (backround), Some Catcalling,Cursing  

[Tags/mood:] highschool au,  fluff and angst but its all good, chat fic, teen stress, its flordia no snow we die like men [Pairing:] Roceit (Roman Sanders/ Deceit Sanders), hinted future/possible logince/roloceit/loceit [Characters]Roman Sanders/Deceit (Dmitri) Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remy (Sleep) Sanders, Nate Sanders, Dragon Witch (Diana)

(Ao3) (Previously)

(8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14)

---

Seawater sputtered from Virgil’s nose and mouth as he screamed, Remy, hefting him over his shoulder easily, victorious, before lunging for Roman. Ignoring his brother’s pleas for help, Roman scattered away, cackling as he tucked and rolled through another group, and sprinted down the coast. 

Dmitri snorted as Roman turned around, jogging backward to blow a kiss. Seconds afterward he got tackled to sand, with the nearby Patton only mildly alarmed from behind his camera. 

“I like your sketches,” Logan said simply, dropping the jug of water to the ground, alongside his bags and towels. He wore a simple sports bra and cargo pants, his braids pulled tight in a bun to the back of his head. 

“Thanks…” Dmitri said, looking up with a wave, he eyed the bags, “Are you preparing for an apocalypse or something?” 

“You’d be surprised, “ Logan said, sliding a pair of sunglasses over his glasses,“Remy once forgot to bring his swimsuit--” he opened his sunscreen,  layering it on, “And instead of just swimming in his underwear he decided leather jeans, boots, and shirt were more appropriate.” 

“I’m assuming they egged him on?”

Logan’s expression soured, “The twins always do,” he sighed, “But they’ve…” he eyed how the Virgil managed to jump from Remy’s grip, dragging him to the ground by his swim trunks, teeth bared, “...Calmed to an extent. ” 

Dmitri cast a doubtful look and Logan shrugged, sitting on his beach towel and starting to build a sandcastle intently. At one point the sun was uncomfortably warm enough to make Dmitri sleepy and he shifted to just watching Logan mumble to himself whether a tower would be better on the east or west end of the castle, occasionally chiming into the one-sided argument, but overall it was a comfortable silence. 

Logan lifted his head, eyes narrowed, “Fuck.” 

“What happened?” 

“Did they put on sunscreen,” he gestured, “Of course they didn’t-and, of course, I’m going to have to deal with their damn burns, and whining, and I don’t get paid for any of this, " he shook his head

“You sound like an overworked dad--” Dmitri said.

“I’m not--” Logan frowned, “Hell I am.”

“Who’s a dad?” Roman called out,  clinging to Remy’s back as the pair walked towards them. Dmitri did note the angry red patches on Remy’s skin, though he doesn’t seem to be bothered.

“I am apparently,” Logan said dry, sipping his water. 

Roman glanced at Remy, who raised an eyebrow in return. 

“Does that mean Patton’s daddy?” Remy said. 

Logan sputtered, water spraying, “Absolutely--no--”  he coughed, “ Absolutely not.” 

“Aw Lo,” Roman cooed, hopping down from Remy’s back, hand briefly brushing Dmitri’s shoulder as he passed before crouching down in front of Logan, “You can be daddy if you want to,” he blinked wide-eyed and Remy snickered behind him. 

Wiping his hands indignantly, Logan scowled, “I hate all of you. Equally. And passionately.” 

“No, you don't. You loooo--ogan!” Roman hissed jumping back, but unable to dodge being thoroughly sprayed in water. 

 Remy’s cackling reached a new height and Roman sniffed turning around, recently dried curls dripping, “Dmitri,” he whined, redirecting his puppy eyes. 

Amused, Dmitri opened his arms, Roman immediately climbing into his lap, tucking himself under Dmitri’s neck.

“I’ve been attacked,” Roman bemoaned, “Viciously and utterly attacked.” 

“It's such a tragedy, I know--I know,  ” Dmitri hummed, cheek resting easily in Roman’s hair, noting how the sea salt still lingered as he relaxed around them. Virgil and Patton later approached Virgil, catching Logan’s eye with a raised eyebrow. 

“What happened to him?” Virgil said. 

“He’s being a baby,” Logan said, rummaging through his bag. 

“I am not-” Roman said, getting a towel to the face, “-Oh. Thank you, Lo!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan said, crossing his arms and redirecting his attention on Virgil, “You getting food?”

Virgil nodded, “Yep, unless y’all are still swimming?” 

“I can always go for another round,” Remy said, looking at Roman expectantly. 

Roman squinted at the reddening sky, “I dunno, it’s getting late…” he said, 

“C’ mon,” Remy tempted, “Night swimmings the best--hell we could probably get away with skinny-dipping.  ”

Interest peaked, Roman, opened his mouth, getting a resounding “No.” from everyone else.  Roman closed his mouth, sheepish. 

“Y’all are fuckin lame,” Remy said, turning on his heels and storming away. Virgil sighed and he and Roman exchanged looks.

“He should be...fine…” Virgil finally said, “Let him blow off some steam.” 

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Roman said, frowning, “Maybe I should go get hi--”

“No,” Virgil said, “He knows he’s over-reacting, let him chill out first.”

“But--”

“Nope, I’ll get him later,” Virgil picked up his jacket, sliding it on, “You stay away from him,” he shoved his hands in his pockets, tossing a pointed look at Roman again before walking off towards the parking lot, Patton close behind. 

Roman deflated, “That’s not fair,” 

Dmitri felt sorely out of place, “Huh.” 

“Virgil’s right,” Logan finally said, rummaging in his bags once again.

“That doesn’t mean he’s right,” Roman said, nearly flinching when Logan tossed a pack of UNO cards in his lap.

“I know, I know, ” he said, “Just deal.” 

---

Ro: I BEAT LOGAN 

Lo: It was a tie.

Ro: [blurred picture of logan flipping him off while roman holds up reverse card.jpeg]

V: this is the best our class has to offer

V: my god we’re all going to fucking die 

Pat: now hold on there

Ro: [finally some good fucking -support- .jpeg]

Pat: L and R aren’t the reason the worlds going to die

Pat: that's primarily the corporations 

Ro: you see patton actually loves me. 

Pat: but w/ l and r our doom will speed up by at least a decade or so

Ro: LOVE IS DEAD TO ME. 

Lo: I second that motion

---

!!!taglist!!!

@daflangstlairde​

@ace-anx​

@cataclysm-al​

[hayjeon]

When War Runs Deep pt. 2 “Marry Me” [M] (ft. Yoongi & Jeongguk)

→ angst, implied smut, vampire/war!au → when a forbidden relationship between the general’s daughter and a vampire used as a military tool takes place during the war. → prologue: “I know” | 01 I swear on my honor | 02 “Marry me” [M] | 03 Freedom doesn’t exist | 04 On the Other Side

“He threads his fingers through your hair and waits until you fall asleep, watching the tears slowly make their way down your temples until they disappear into your hair, unable to bring himself to wipe them away. For those tears are evidence that you are not his, that the ring you will wear around your fourth finger will not be his, the man you wake up to morning after morning would not be him.”

set a few weeks before Prologue, year after I Swear on my Honor

Yoongi saw it as soon as he came into your bedroom through the balcony windows. You’d left it on your vanity top, unable to put it on, nor throw it away. 

It shone in the moonlight, the elegant cut of the diamond shining and sparkling whilst sitting in the midst of other small brilliant stones. All of these were encased into the silver band that was branded with the last name, “Jeon”. It was his mother’s, and when he’d gotten news of a particularly risky battle, he’d come to your residence on his horse, and woke up your entire household in the middle of the night to give you the ring. 

Your parents, mildly surprised, but all the more satisfied that their brilliant son-in-law had come running alone, without his entourage or family members or servants, to present to their only daughter the precious heirloom of the Jeon family. The servants had murmured, chuckling and squealing at how romantic it was that Jeon Jeongguk had proposed to you in front of everyone, the night before he left on a battle, as a promise to return to you. Your father had clapped Jeongguk on his shoulder with a booming laugh, and had ushered the servants and his wife back into the corners of the house so you and your fiancee could have some privacy. 

Still out of breath of some sorts, Jeongguk had clasped both your hands in his and gazed down at you in the dim candlelight with such determination and ferocity that you were stunned into silence. 

“Y/N! I came here as fast as I could when my men reported to me, but tomorrow’s battle is going to be a bit dangerous. The enemy outranks us in that area, and we either have to go into battle or risk getting attacked. I’m going in place of your father, for he shouldn’t push himself too much, but I wanted to tell you this before anything.” 

He suddenly got down on his knee, causing your eyes to widen even further. He reached into his military jacket, and produced a brilliant ring, a piece so finely crafted it even caught the candlelight and made little shards of light on its own. He gently slipped it onto your finger and had held your left hand in his. “I know  I asked you to give me a chance, and I am deeply apologetic that I haven’t been able to stick to my word enough to try and court you as much as I should. But Y/N, one thing I have stuck to is that promise, the promise that I will dedicate and devote myself to you no matter what, even if you aren’t ready yet. And tonight, let this be the declaration of my devotion. I promise you that I will return from the battle unscathed, and fight even the more harder to defend you and this country.” 

He stood up and gently cradled your face in his hands, gazing desperately into your eyes. “I think I’m in love with you. Ever since our parents decided our futures, I can’t stop thinking about you, and I can’t stop waiting for the day you will realize how much I desire you.” 

Your mouth just gaped in shock, taken aback at the confession and the proposal, and the gravity of the situation, that maybe Jeon Jeongguk might get hurt in a battle. You didn’t understand what you felt. “I-I-I don’t...I don’t understand---know what to say--” You blabbered, tears pricking your eyes. 

He pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “You don’t have to respond to me. You don’t have to reciprocate these feelings. You don’t have to anything, but just know that I feel this way and that I will return in a few days.” With a lingering kiss to your forehead, he brushed his hands on your cheeks while sadly gazing into your eyes, and then turned and rode off back to his residence without a word. 

You’d returned to your room in your nightgown, and sat on your bed for hours, staring at the ring on your finger. It fit so perfectly, so snug around your finger that you felt it snug around your throat, choking you, suffocating you. So you ripped it off your finger and placed it on your vanity, choosing to screw your eyes shut and cover yourself in your sheets, hoping to erase the burden of the silver jewel shining back at you. 

And you’d left it there as Jeongguk and his ranks left the next day alongside his father to fight the battle, a day early to set camp and prepare. He didn’t come see you, since they left in the early hours of the morning, and had only sent you a small note that read, “I will see you soon. -Jeon Jeongguk” 

And as Yoongi climbed into your bedroom the next night, having the leisure to stay one more night with his speed, he’d immediately caught glimpse of the ring and had crossed the room in seconds before catching your wrists against the wall opposite your window. He growled in your ear, “Did the fucker give you a ring? To try and mark you as his?” Teeth grazing your neck and raspy voice settling deep into your core. 

“He left it with me, because the battle he just left to was predicted to be dangerous.” Yoongi’s fingers thread through the roots of your hair, and yank it down so your neck can be exposed to him. His hips jut into yours, pressing you into the wall, and caging you into his embrace. 

He growled as you let out a moan, and immediately bit into your skin lightly, scraping the skin enough to draw blood, but not enough to let himself indulge. Letting go of your wrists, his fingers dragged across your chest, yanking the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders so he could expose your breasts. The silk material slid down your torso easily, pooling around your hips and your elbows as he lifted you up in his arms. Your legs fell naturally around his waist, and he carried you to the bed and immediately let his lips fall onto your nipple, tongue encasing the flesh and tugging it harshly while his hand knead the other breast with urgency. You arched your back and moaned hoarsely into the air, the apex of your thighs already trembling and moist with need for him. 

“Already getting wet for me?” He could smell the spike of arousal in your blood and hear the rush of blood that flowed downwards toward your hips. Sitting up onto his knees, he removed his coat and blouse, baring his pale chest for your taking and made quick work on the night gown around your hips and your undergarments. When he removed your underwear, the scent of your sex hit him and he groaned, eyes turning blood red in a flash and then pulsing back to the grey black you adored. Dropping onto his elbows, he hiked your thighs up over his shoulders. Blowing gently on your clit, he grinned wickedly at the sight of your disposal to him, and muttered, “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember his name, until you can’t remember where he’s going and until you don’t care whether he lives or dies tomorrow.” 

And with that, he dove in between your legs, sucking, biting, and licking with fervor. Your limbs trembled, your heart clenching at the words. This was your reality: your heart and body stolen by this vampire while your name and your finger was promised to a man named Jeon Jeongguk, who you could never hate, but never love. 

But as Yoongi drew you closer to your orgasm, you couldn’t help but ignore the tears that prickled in your eyes and let yourself go, pliant under his tongue, his hands, his words. 

After your release, he’d kissed up your body, intentionally leaving marks and evidence of his kisses until he reached your lips. Resting his elbows on either side of your face, he took a moment to gaze down at you, eyes filled with fondness and sadness all at once. He paused, and just kneeled over you for a moment, seeing your face gaze back at his, cheeks flushed from the heat of your orgasm and eyes glazed from the rush of arousal. He lowers his face to yours, gently brushing his lips against yours briefly before completely settling his weight on top of yours and completely giving into your kiss. His cold tongue swipes against yours, roughly dominating you, but occasionally letting yours enter his mouth and swipe over the sharp incisors. 

He’d somehow removed his pants in the process, and cold hands spread your legs to position them around his waist. With lips still pressed to yours, he slides into you, swallowing your mewls and moans and releasing his own noises into the crevices of your mouth. He begins slowly, but quickens his pace, the both of you too far engrossed in your love making to really think too much about grace. He drags his length out of your wetness, and thrusts back into you with a snap of his hips, repeating the fast-slow process to drive you up towards the peak. 

Your hands scrabble for purchase, and when they painfully wring around the bedsheets, he slides his hands into yours, cold hands pressing yours down into the mattress. His tongue licks into you, mimicking his hips, moving around and playing with yours.

When he felt your walls tighten around him, he detaches his mouth from yours and kisses desperately down your jaw, stopping at your ear, and growling, “You are mine. You don’t belong to anyone but me.” 

Your jaw falls slack as the coil in your hips tighten to a vice like grip, and you focus on the pleasure his hips are giving you, the way his voice grates into your ear. And you cry out, “Please, Yoongi, please, please,” unable to form coherent requests or sentences as you approach the edge. 

“Come for me.” He growls into your ear before moving down to bite into your jugular, his incisors cutting into the skin like butter. At that moment, the coil breaks loose, and you tumble over the edge, your entire being focused on your core and the junction in which your blood spills out onto Yoongi’s tongue. He laps against your skin, coaxing the warm liquid into his mouth, swallowing with hunger, as he topples over the edge as well, overwhelmed by your blood and your tightness. 

Tears run down the sides of your eyes to your hairline, your heart overwhelmed by how much you love this man, the vampire who captured your sight from the moment you met him and never let your gaze leave his for a moment. The man who, lived in freedom until now, chose you as his grounding factor, the one thing that he returned to every night even when he was away for battles. The man who had the will and power to escape forever and live forever in freedom, but chose to fight in this horrid war and dispose himself to the military day by day to have an excuse to stay in the country and climb up your balcony night by night. 

Your heart clenches, reminded again the horrible reality that, this pleasure, this feeling of being wrapped up in his arms, this moment, will all soon, come to an end. 

As the both of you come down from your highs, he slows his sucking, gently lapping at the wound to close the skin, and presses a kiss to the now spot-less part of your neck before pressing another lingering kiss to your mouth. He pulls out gently, and retrieves a towel to clean up between your legs, returning to the bed and covering your body with the disposed nightgown and the sheets silently. As he lays against your headrest, your arms naturally falling around his waist and your head lying on his chest, he can’t help but catch his eye on the glint of the ring sitting on the vanity. 

And the space in his chest, where his beating heart should be, where it should be pulsing with the desire and arousal caused by this woman, the empty and hollow space clenches with anger and jealousy. He averts his eyes, refusing to look at the wretched thing anymore, and focuses his sight on you. His beautiful human, his beautiful woman, the only person he’d give his life for. 

He threads his fingers through your hair and waits until you fall asleep, watching the tears slowly make their way down your temples until they disappear into your hair, unable to bring himself to wipe them away. For those tears are evidence that you are not his, that the ring you will wear around your fourth finger will not be his, the man you wake up to morning after morning would not be him. 

But he closes his eyes and presses his lips to your forehead, letting visions of you dressed in all-white with a brilliant diamond ring around your finger, or waking up to you littered with his love marks wearing nothing but the ring, fill his mind. 

He burns the images to the back of his eyelids, choosing this time to once again let himself indulge in this current fantasy, this lie, in order to fill the aching hole in his chest.