#this is chisel and i luv her

[basketobread]

for thou @weedsmokingbfs *tips my bard hat and prances away*

[pinkmelodie]

Can I request horny reader, but she's too tired to do the work so Gaz just softly makes love to her and then they curl up and go to bed

>-<

Feel free to ignore this if it's yucky

Love, 🥺anon

Thank you sm for the ask anon !! I love sleepy smut, especially with Gaz ^^ apologies for taking so long to get to this, but I hope it’s what you wanted ♡

౨ৎ Sleepy sex with Gaz ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

18+ , soft sex, f reader, pet names, p in v, mating press position(?), cuddling, soft, fluff + smut, Gaz is kinda possessive in this (keeps referring to reader as his but in a cute way), he talks you through it !

You can feel your exhaustion seeping into your bones, but still you somehow can’t manage to fall asleep. Your fatigue weighs you down into the mattress and you feel like never getting up again, but you can’t ignore how your arousal flares in your gut.

You stared down at your handsome boyfriend sleeping soundly beside you. It was only a day ago that he came back from a 4 month long deployment, you knew he needed this sleep. You felt horrible waking him up just because of your own neediness… .. .but it’s impossible not to stare at his chiselled jaw, well shaved facial hair that you could feel the phantom touch of scratching against your inner thighs when he…

You were getting progressively more wet the more you thought about him, as if the man wasn’t right in front of you. You watched the rise and fall of his chest with every calm exhale, all the stress leaving his body the second he was asleep next to you. You ogled his plump lips and how good they felt pressed against your own, his gorgeous brown eyes and how they could look so soft and puppy-like staring up at you, but so dangerous and demanding when staring right through you.

You noticed his eyelashes flutter and your focus turned to that. You swear he had to be using some kind of lash serum because what. Hand some of that length over bud. (The other one too 😼) You kept daydreaming about him while you rubbed your thighs together for some delicious friction. Only when the pressure on your clit released some tension and your mind cleared did you do a double take. Wait, his eyelashes fluttered? 

You called his name softly and his eyes blinked open while he smirked at you. “What’s wrong? Dreaming about me, princess?”

You rolled your eyes at him, as if he was far off.“Dealing with you awake is enough, I don’t need you haunting my dreams too.” You bantered, but your soft, drowsy voice only made him laugh.

“Everyone needs a bit of me.” He chipped in, but couldn’t keep a straight face. “Unlucky for them, I’m only interested in my gorgeous girl.” 

You blushed and squealed when he pulled you into his chest by the waist and peppered kisses all over your face. “So, what are you doing up?” He asked between smooches.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He repeated skeptically.

“I- I just couldn’t fall asleep.” You muttered truthfully.

“And why’s that luv?” He asked, running his hands through your hair.

“…Nothing” 

He raised an eyebrow, suspicious of your avoidance of his questions. He noticed you move slightly, and he lifted up the blanket to see you ‘discreetly’ rubbing your thighs together to the sound of his husky tired voice. 

“Ohh” You could hear the smirk in his voice, “so my girl is just needy.”

You blushed and looked away in embarrassment. “Didn’t want to wake you up.”

He huffed, “Dove, you can always wake me up for anything, especially this.” He emphasized his point by grabbing your thigh and pulling you even closer to him. 

You gasped at his warm hands so close to where you need them, lazily bucking your hips towards his fingers until they were rubbing at the wet patch on your panties.

“So soaked for me princess, what are you imagining me doing to you in that pretty little head of yours, hm?” He asked, reaching his other hand up to cradle the side of your face. He talked to you so gently in your tired state, letting you feel all soft and compliant next to him.

You were too embarrassed to answer him, hiding your face in the blanket while you squeezed your thighs together to trap his hand between them. Being a toned military man with  biceps you drooled over—he easily pushed your thighs back apart and settled between them—holding you down just an inch far enough away from him to where you couldn’t grind your aching clit on his bulge.

He was above you now, admiring the pleading look in your eyes when you stared up at him. “Answer the question, gorgeous.” 

With a reluctant whimper you whispered out, “wanted you to fuck me Ky….please.” with such a desperate look on your face he couldn’t possible decline.

He smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, unintentionally pushing his hard-on right against your clothed cunt and making you moan out.

He pulled back to press his face into your cunny until you grabbed him and draped your arms around his shoulders. You pulled his face onto yours and softly kissed him until you couldn’t breathe. He pulled your panties down, breaking away from the kiss to watch the string of your cream coat them. When he rubbed your slick around your cunt messily and was about to gently prod a finger in, you stopped him again with a pathetic whine.

He looked concerned, about to ask if you wanted to stop before you were interrupting him. “I don’t want your fingers, just your cock.” 

“You need stretching, luv.” He huffed out like it was the most common knowledge in the world, not up for debate at all with him. (Your lovely bf is terrified of ever potentially hurting you.)

“No, m’relaxed.” You promised, about to start bawling in pent-up exhaustion. “I need it.”

“Alright then.” He chuckled—a little dumbfounded by the extent of how horny you were at the moment.

He pulled down his grey sweatpants and boxers at once, his hard cock slapping against his toned stomach. Pre-cum leaked from the tip, and he spread it down his thick shaft before positioning it at your entrance.

You sighed in delight when it finally started to push into your hole, stretching your leaking cunt open deliciously. He was slow and deliberate, letting you be split open at a bearable pace. 

You sunk into the warm duvet and settled into the comfort, eyes already starting to flutter shut. Gaz commited that image to memory—his girl all sleepy and comfy on his cock in his bed in his clothes.

He cherished moments like these with you, just basking in each other’s presence. With every drag of his length in your gummy walls you whispered out quiet keens and moans of his name like a mantra. 

He bent your legs and pushed your knees to your shoulders so he could reach the deepest parts of you, pressing his lips to yours and swallowing up the loud mewls you let out when he hit that spongey spot inside of you. 

You could barely keep your eyes open—drifting in and out of consciousness until the only thing in your brain was him. He noticed this of course, and smiled down at you. “It’s okay baby, I’ve got you. Just let go.” he encouraged.

And fuck, you wanted to so badly, but you knew you’d pass out right after and you wanted to be filled up by his warm seed when you drifted off.

You stuttered over your moans, feeling nothing but bliss. “cum with me.” You pleaded.

He groaned at the request and angled his hips deeper, circling your clit with the pad of his finger and tracing out the letters of his name. “Keep making those pretty noises then, baby.”

And how could you not? You gasped and keened under him, moaning out his name because it’s the only thing your fucked-out brain could comprehend other than a slurred out ‘I love you.’

“I love you so much, my perfect girl.” He groaned out, getting so unbelievably pussy-drunk on you. He tilted your chin up and latched his lips onto yours, swirling his tongue around yours until you suddenly tightened around him. He pulled away with a string of saliva connecting your lips to whisper encouragements to you, talking you through your orgasm as it came crashing down on you.

“Go on, make a mess of my dick. You look so gorgeous creaming all over me, just like in your daydreams, yeah baby? This is all you needed, just some good cock to help you fall asleep.”

You were coating his cock in your arousal, gripping him like a vice while your pussy gushed around him. His moans mixed with yours when he spilled inside you, rocking his hips while your pussy milked him.

He filled you up completely, some spent dribbling out and coating your plush thighs. He continued to rock his hips into you, riding out both of your orgasms until he watched your eyes flick closed. He deliberately pulled out of you and toppled over beside you, pulling you into him and wrapping his strong arms around you. His head was resting atop yours, with your head pressed into his chest so the first thing you’d hear when you woke up in the morning would be his steady heartbeat—running on nothing but love for you.

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

Ahem.. Christmas smut with a hot shark lady, anyone? 👀 Wrote this as a Christmas gift for my dearest @demonofpuns ❤️Pirate Captain Sal AU with about 3.5k words of almost pure smut 😂I do hope some of you will enjoy! 😌 ***

Your heart was beating harder than it ever had. So hard you could feel it in your throat - thumping there loudly. Beating with anticipation, with excitement. The pink flush across your cheeks growing even deeper as you tied the final knot around Sal’s wrist and leaned back to look at her.

Merry Christmas to me.

She was gorgeous. Stunning. A nautical masterpiece literally at your mercy.

Well, sort of. You knew she could easily break her restraints if she really wanted to. But she had requested this as her gift - asked it of you - given you her trust as a Captain and you her first mate. And you weren't going to let her down.

Not that you had any desire to anyways. While, yes, you were predominantly a bottom - a brat, as it was - the chance to have Sal in such a position, under you, was one you couldn't imagine ever saying no to. Especially with how hard she already was. With how absolutely divine she looked. Her arms bound carefully above her head with the chiseled landscape of her laid out before you.

Why, it was enough to make you wet. And it did. Already soaked straight through your panties that you still wore when you sauntered back over to stand in front of her, teasingly.

“Aye.. enjoyin’ tha view?”

You smirked. “Mhm.. very much.”

Sal chuckled, the muscles in her abdomen flexing ever so slightly as she did.

Gods, she was so fucking hot. And the soft black rope you'd used to restrain her wrists looked absolutely stunning against the grayscape of her skin. Skin that was speckled beautifully with a pink hue that was only growing deeper by the second.

“You're fucking gorgeous, Sal.”

Her cheeks warmed brilliantly at the abrupt compliment - face encased softly in a curtain of inky black hair.

“Oi, hush.”

“Hm.. no, I don't think I will. And there's absolutely nothing you can do about it, is there?” You teased, leaning down.

Sal only shook her head, chuckling.

“That's right. So, be a good girl.. Captain.. and take it.”

Your smirk only growing wider at the look she gave you. Shark-li teeth pressing into the top part of her bottom lip and a subtle twitch to her cock.

Fuck, it was beautiful - the effect being praised had on her. There were few things in life hotter than a rough and tumble Pirate Captain who melted at being called ‘good’. And then when you added Sal herself into that mix.. well, the effects were.. intoxicating.. to say the least.

“Yer not playin’ fair, luv.”

‘I don't recall ever saying I would.”

“Cud make yer swab tha deck fer this, yer know?”

You shrugged, smirking. “Worth it.”

You moved a little closer and her cock twitched again, betraying the level of her neediness. The flush that started at her pointed ears and made its way deliciously down the length of her - painting her body in a deep crimson - grew a little darker. Still, you kept your panties intact as you straddled her hips.

Not yet, Captain.

Though you couldn't help the tiny whimper that fell when your clit pressed down firmly against her womanhood through the thin, soaked fabric. And then again when you ground down onto it. Fuck, she was hard.. so, so hard-

You took a deep breath to regain your focus.

You had a plan. Worship first. Make her as needy as absolutely possible while indulging every inch of her. Worship her like the sea goddess that she was. Then you could indulge her.

So, needless to say, you paid her no mind when she whimpered in turn wanting more, her cock already pulsing with need beneath you. Instead you leaned in, lowering the top part of your body slowly onto hers before allowing the weight of you to add even more pressure between the space that you straddled.

“Luv..”

“Shhhh..”

You placed your lips against the pulse point on Sal’s neck and felt her swallow. Your tongue sucking over it only for a moment before a kiss quickly took its place. Soon those kisses were peppering their way down the side of it only to stop just short of her collar bone. Every inch of her was toned - taut - ready for you. Even more so when she pulled on her restraints in want, forcing a creak from the old wooden headboard they were bound to.

Another swirl of your tongue at the crook of her neck before your lips continued their journey down the landscape of her. Stopping every so often to bite or nibble - lick or suck. Loving the small sounds that every small act pulled from her - especially when the warmth of your mouth found her nipple and quickly enveloped it. A smooth roll of your hips added in and she was moaning almost breathlessly in your ear.

“L-luv-”

“Let me take care of you, Sal.”

Your words were murmured - muffled - pushing air across her already erect nipples and making them even harder.

But you didn't stop there. Sucking over them eagerly as you rolled your hips again - this time forcing a hard pull against the soft black rope. Her cock throbbing hard against your clit, begging for release and coating your panties in her own desire. Gods, it was delicious. How needy you had her, how gorgeous she looked dressed in nothing but her want for you. It was intoxicating - like a drug, a supreme high - charging your body with an almost raw current.

Another roll of your hips.. your teeth grazing over her nipples before bringing your lips to her sternum and continuing your journey. Her toned abs twitching under your soft kisses, under your warm tongue that occasionally sucked over them.

“You're fucking divine, Sal. You know that?”

Your gaze looked up at her just in time to catch her blush grow even deeper.

“H-hush.”

“Make me.”

You smirked before kissing around her happy trail, rolling your hips once again.

And that's when you heard it. Cutting through the quiet winter night like a strike of lightning. Like a storm across the sea. A satisfying rip as Sal broke free from her restraints - a look of utterly feral need blazing within her eyes.

Fuck. You were done for.

Before you could even make any sort of move, make any sort of objection, Sal had you on all fours - fingers coming to the hem of your panties just prior to swiftly tearing them from your body.

For a moment, though, everything stopped - complete silence from the Pirate Captain until a boisterous laugh spilled out from her. You’d almost completely forgotten about the new toy you’d adorned yourself with earlier and shook your ass teasingly, allowing the small fish tail on the end of your buttplug to waggle.

“Heh.. an’ here I though’ I'd nevah find meself a mermaid.”

“A ‘merperson’, you mean.” You corrected her, tongue sticking out slightly.

She nodded. “Even bettah.”

Sal gave you a single, firm smack against your ass and then lined the tip of her womanhood up against your entrance. One hand between your shoulder blades, holding your body down with your hands - while the other guided the width of her into you. Both of you practically dripping as she slowly began to slide herself into your core, the immediate stretch making you moan.

“Heh.. now who's needy?”

Sal chuckled - maybe at the table’s being turned, or the fish tail that still sat perfectly in your ass - either way, it only lasted for a breath before she thrusted herself back into you, forcing the toy in your ass just far enough in to make it feel good.

“F-fuck.”

She'd only just started and you could already feel your need dripping down your inner thighs, worked up from just the simple act of worshiping her. And how could you not be? Truly? You knew the view Sal had just given you was not one that many had gotten to experience - if any - and it was more than a treat to have her trust in such a way. A fact itself would usually have you practically dripping. Let alone this. Let alone having had her perfect body beneath you for as long as you did - knowing that she trusted you to take care of it. Take care of her. Like no one else ever had.

You remembered how she hesitated when she came to visit you last week in the kitchens. A slight flush to her cheeks as she played idly with the hem of her shirt. You'd never seen that of her prior - being so vulnerable, yet so open about what she wanted. She’d barely had the chance to finish asking you before you'd let out an exuberant “Fuckin’ right I can-!” Her chuckle in response and the way she nervously rubbed the back of her neck - as if there was even a slight chance that you'd say no - had warmed your heart in a way that you had never expected.

It was beautiful. This - her - was beautiful. So incredibly stunning.

But now she had exactly where she wanted you. With your face pressed down into her mattress and your mind filled with bliss. Your core clenching around the width of her as she teased you - denied you.

“Aye.. now yer gonna stay an’ warm tha’ fer me. Fer as long as I want yer to.”

Her breath was hot against your ear as you whimpered.

“Mmph- .. yes, Captain.”

Another smack to your backside and all you could do was moan, the act causing both her cock and the toy inside your ass to move oh so pleasurably inside you. Making you want more.. forcing you to squirm against the iron grip that she had you in.

“I sed stay.” She growled. This time there was venom to the Captain’s words. You'd had your turn at riling her up, and now it was hers. And just like you had said to her, you were going to stay there - and take it.

You whimpered pathetically in response - legs trembling, core aching, the width of her throbbing deep inside you. You knew she wanted you just as badly - that the famed pirate wouldn’t be able to hold out forever - but for now Sal’s reserve continued to outwin her need. Even when you did your best to force your hips back into her - an act that you were certain would likely be in vain - but with your level of need and the brattiness that dusted it, your brain was fogged over to the point where you no longer cared.

“Please, Sal! Please.” You whined, you begged. Tears building at the corners of your eyes and your body coated in a deep flush.

A single thrust, that's all you got. Just enough to pool more juices to your core and make you cry out.

“Fuck-” You whined, your legs trembling even harder. “Fucking please.”

Honestly, you were a little impressed at how well she was still able to hold back. You could feel how hard she was by this point. How profoundly her cock throbbed inside you. Her once steady breaths growing more hitched by the second. Another single thrust only this time she moaned, body shuddering above you as she slammed the full length of herself into your core.

A silent cry into the night followed by an easy exhale as you felt her hold on you finally loosen, your arms dropping to your sides once both of Sal’s hands came to your hips - her stance shifting slightly behind you.

And just like that, the Pirate Captain’s reserve faltered. The only sounds to be heard next were the delicious sounds of flesh against flesh. Of heated desire against firm skin as your juices coated Sal’s lower abs with each eager thrust.

“Mmph.. y-yes.. don't stop. Please don't stop.”

She growled - feral, unhinged. The pace in which she fucked you now relentless, stretching your core with every exquisite pump. Your fingers clawing into her bed sheets as you elongated your hips back even further, giving her unhindered access to your dripping hole - wanting it to be used as nothing more. To be absolutely filled with her desire until it was trickling down both of your legs.

And you knew Sal would make good on that want. She always had. She'd never left you anything but completely satisfied and this time would be no different.

Though you could tell she wouldn't last too much longer, every pump bringing a heavy twitch to her cock and pulling the most erotic sounds from her body. Moans and breathless whimpers. Her nails sinking into the supple flesh of your thighs as she drove herself into you over and over again. Your own pleasure building uncontrolled like a white fire - prickling and hot and on the verge of completely engulfing you.

Until it did. Until there was nothing left but the juices that spilled from your core and Sal’s own desire pumping into you. Your voices a mere chorus of screams as the pirate pushed you both past the brink of absolute pleasure - bodies shuddering as you fell breathless to the now soaked mattress below you.

The moments between your last orgasm and the feeling of emptiness as Sal finally slid out of you were barely more than a blur. Completely blissed out as she removed the toy from your ass and laid you on your side so she could spoon you from behind. Strong, safe arms coming to wrap around your torso as she pulled you close against herself.

“Fucking.. hells, Sal.”

She chuckled, a breath of warm air blowing through your sweat-dampened hair.

“Aye.. yer okay? Need water?”

“Mmh.. in a minute. For now.. I just need this.”

Your breath slowly came back to normal as you cuddled into her, making her chuckle again.

“Heh.. a’ight.”

The familiar scent of sea spray and cinnamon encased you as a soft kiss came to the back of your neck, making you shiver. Sal's firm body behind you, holding you in a way that made you feel completely safe from everything. From all the bad things the world had to offer. From all the hateful stares of the people that never understood you. She was your beacon, your lighthouse in the storm. Always calling you home.

“... Sal?”

“Mh?”

“You know I love you, right?”

Her brief pause made you more than certain Sal's cheeks were likely warming once again.

“Aye… luv yer too.” She replied, pulling you a little closer into her large frame. But before she could settle in too comfortably, you turned in her arms so you could face her. Your arms wrapping securely around the width of her rib cage.

“Good.” You smirked, kissing the bottom of her chin. “Just like you.”

“Oi.. hush. Hadn't had enuf?”

“Of you? Is there such a thing?”

Sal only chuckled but you could see the pink hue readily returning to her cheeks. You nuzzled your head under her chin and pulled her flush against you. The beat of her heart as strong and steady as she was. The heat of her body as calm and warm as she made you feel. She sighed contently and wrapped her arms even more firmly around you. You were so close - but yet, not close enough. Your outer leg coming to wrap around her hips and her thigh moving to lay between them.

“Cud stay like thi’ forever.” Sal whispered.

“Mmh.. say less.” You replied, smiling widely as you kissed her collar bone.

“Heh.”

She placed a kiss to the top of your head and you snuggled in even more, leaving not a breath of space between the two of you. The next soft kiss to her collar bone pulled the smallest of noises from Sal’s throat, immediately bringing a pulse to your core. You moved your hips slightly against her, an act that only pushed her thigh further into you, making your breath hitch ever so slightly.

It was crazy how easily she could affect you. How just being in such close proximity made you needy all over again. And you knew she was likely tired.. But.. still… It was worth a shot.

You placed another kiss to the base of her neck and sucked at the skin of it gently - just enough to cause a slight jerk to her body and a sharp inhale across the top of your hair. The next kiss brought out the tiniest moan. And the next, a firmness between her legs that you were all too familiar with.

“Sal.” You said softly, causing her to lean back and look at you. Eyes shimmered in want and all the ways that she adored you.

You didn't have to say anything else as Sal took your queue and laid you onto your back without releasing you from her embrace. A soft smirk curling at the corners of her lips before they came crashing into yours, kissing you deeply - profoundly. Soft and gentle and such a stark contrast to her energy before.

Both sets of eyes half lidded as you kept your gaze on each other, completely lost in the moment. Tongues dancing in a minuet - warm and languid and steadily building the desire between you. Re-stoking the fire that had never fully died out. Bodies nude and wrapped in nothing but each other as she spread your legs, your arousal immediately evident.

The way she kissed you, as if you were her last breath, as if she pulled away for even a moment she would perish - right then and there.

There were no words to be spoken between you, no thoughts to be had. Just the sound of your bodies and hearts moving as one as Sal slid herself back into you, cock hard and already throbbing. You moaned into her lips, whimpering when she nibbled softly on your bottom one. The length of her sliding indulgently in and out of you, hitting exactly where you needed it with each deep grind that she gifted you.

It was perfect. Fuck, she was perfect. Hard when you wanted it, soft when it counted. Giving your body, heart, and soul exactly what you needed each and every time.

You began to move your hips in tangent, legs wrapped around her, lazily draped over Sal’s backside. Each pump more delicious than the last, each thrust more exquisite - building your peak with nothing but slow, absolute precision. Equally soft caresses indulging every inch of you, her strong hands never seeming to leave your body - claiming your flesh as her lips claimed your own. The world around you almost non-existent as the two of you moved as one - Sal's firm muscles flexing with each subtle movement. With every stretch to your core.

You felt as if you were on the edge of orgasm from the minute she entered you, and if it weren't for the extremely slow pace in which she took you, you likely would have came already. But Sal knew exactly what she was doing, building you up closer and closer, inch by inch. Her adoring praises practically imprinted into your lips by the time you felt her cock start to twitch inside you yet again.

“Come with me, Sal.”

Less of an order than a plea, but she only nodded - kissing you even deeper. Claiming you fully while her hips picked up their pace. Every muscle in her body taut, tense - the length of her driving into you at full speed.

“Mmph- .. y-yes .. so good.”

Whimpered words falling off your tongue like a prayer - only for a moment before your orgasm quickly took you. Rolling over your body like tepid water and washing you in bliss. Sal's own desire filling you once again as her body shuddered, your juices re-soaking the bed sheets below you until she fell absolutely breathless on top of you.

And even though you were completely and utterly wrecked, you still whined when she finally slid out of you, your core entirely too empty as aftershocks forced it to clench around nothing. She chuckled between shuddered breaths as she came to lie next to you once again.

Only this time her eyes were closed, a look of serene calm playing across her features. The ebb and flow of her breath a constant current like the waves that carried your ship. You smiled softly to yourself and rolled over fully on your side to face her.

“You're beautiful, you know that?”

“Oi.. hush.”

A sliver of glow shot in your direction as Sal just barely opened her eyes to look at you, the warmth within them bringing an instant flush to your cheeks.

“Hmm.. no.”

She chuckled at your response and shook her head, strong arms reaching out before they pulled you close against her chest.

“An’ here I though’ I tired yer out.”

She pulled you closer still and you snuggled in.

“Bold of you to assume I'd ever be too spent to praise you, Sal.”

“Heh.”

You let your smirk linger on your lips as you pressed them gently to the side of her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Captain.”

You let a single content and quickly snuggled back into her. The steady melody of Sal’s breath slowly lulling you off as the soft rock of the ocean pulled the both of you into a deep, blissful sleep.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Polly's Boys

The Warning

The Warning

Polly sat at her dining room table shifting on her seat and occasionally flicking her unused cigarette in the ashtray. She watched him with the persistence of a hawk ready for the mouse to move. He just sat gathering his thoughts which she guessed kept dropping out of his hands clumsily rolling everywhere. He was thinking too hard. He was scared, upset and unable to voice it.

“Right, well I took off work which means I'm not being paid to sit here in silence while we waste time.” Her abruptness and honesty surprised her son David. He’d sat in a chair several feet away from her and the table. He'd been hunched over his arms reclined on his knees deep in his own worries. She’d seen this before in his father. It yielded nothing of use, unless he grabbed the thought and started untangling it.

“It's okay luv, your father had a hard time voicing his thoughts when they were heavily entwined with emotion. Tell me the problem then we'll sort it out around everything else, yeah?” She took a long deep drag seeing if he could talk. This was getting tedious. She knew the men would be home soon and she’d heard about the run in at the club from Devlin.

David had called her and asked for a meeting. She barely heard from him and she had gathered from her conversation with Dev and Winter, well the way they dogged answering questions about David’s commitment to knowing his mother, rather, that he was angry with her about her illegal dealings, his years in the orphanage and so on.

She wished he would bring it up so she could set the record straight. She didn’t care if he believed her, but damn him if he was going to live in a fantasy that she did any of it with the intention of losing the four people she loved most in the entire world. He’ll, she was still trying to find Michael and Anna.

Tommy had suggested asking David to use his influence to send out inquiries about her other two children. She squinted and really looked at him.

She had a feeling his problems at the moment had to do with the three ambitious men in her life that she was forever trying to keep up with, she’d given up keeping them in line. She was stubborn but not stupid. She knew when she was facing a losing battle.

She still wasn’t sure if her desire to know David was one of those battles yet. She’d try to be patient but even she knew she wouldn’t live forever.

“David, either you say one word…or I’m getting up to go to the betting shop and working so that I can get paid and eat this week. Looking at your suits and fancy shoes, I know money isn’t something you have to think about right now.” She had intentionally added the last part to piss him off. She knew he had pride in being his own man and using his education to his advantage. He sat up straight as she had predicted.

“What are Tommy’s plans and why do they involve us? Why London?” David's tone was no nonsense and so was his stiff demeanor. Polly smirked at her son, so he did have a little of his mother in him after all.

“I can't tell you what Tom thinks anymore. Since France he just makes up his own plans and thinks when he barks orders we all listen.” She sat forward leaning towards him. She had an idea.

“His woman, at the Garrison, would be your best bet but you’ll have to be careful with her. I don’t trust her and she’s cautious with her words.” Polly meant it for the warning to be taken seriously. She really was concerned about Grace constantly. She was never wrong about her sense of people. EVER.

“You may actually know her.” She added hastily but it had been intentional. David seemed intrigued, his brow furrowed and he leaned toward her unintentionally.

God, he was a carbon copy of his father. Dev had more chiseled features like Tommy but David, David was a spitting image of his dad.

“How?” She smiled knowing that by getting him to ask her questions, she and him engaged in conversation now. It would be easier for him to talk to her. Truly it was already easier since Peggy wasn’t around.

“Tommy employed a posh girl from Galloway, supposedly that's where she is from…..I’m still unsure of her intentions.” She sat back and waited for him to speak. He was thinking but the cogs were turning smoothly this time not junked up by overthinking. So much like his father she mused to herself.

“Unless she lost her money, what is she doing here..let alone working here, in Birmingham?” He asked, puzzled. He couldn’t put it together either. “ Had Tommy even gone to Galloway where maybe she saw him and thought to follow?” Wow, he was smart. His mother had thought the same things.

“No, not as far as any of us know and Tommy has denied ever going. It would be too far for him to slip away unnoticed for long since he’s a part of two businesses. One of us would notice.” she flicked her cigarette and offered him one. To her surprise he took it from her. She wasn’t sure if he’d smoked or not. He was starting to get comfortable.

“None of us can find out. Your cousin put in an inquiry, she lied to him about working in a bar and leaving cause she’d been pregnant, although I’m guessing that last part was Tommy's assumption due to lack of evidence.” She watched the emotions flick across his face. He was firmly invested in his own intrigue, a quality that came from her and her alone.

“We’ll unless she’s black listed for government reasons ... .there will be a trail. You have a name?” He asked her pointedly.

“I do, hand me my pen and pencil on the table next to the couch please.” She sat waiting as he glanced around her table for a notepad and pencil. He turned to her smiling and victorious. She stilled her heart.

“Here, please be discreet. Tommy is falling in love with her even though I'm pretty sure he isn't even aware that he is yet. Her name is Grace Burgess” They smiled at each other. If he knew the name he didn’t let on. No changes in him to indicate he’d ever heard the name or met her before.

“I’ll ask. Do you think any little news on her would possibly disrupt him from his plans on taking over my and Dev’s territory in London?” He asked, tapping his hand on the table and cocking his head. He was getting confident now. A slow uneasy feeling flooded her body. She needed to find out why she was unsettled now. Perhaps she was just now noticing that he was too confident out of the blue.

“Only momentarily. Like you, when Tommy sets his mind on his ambitions. There is no stopping him from successfully climbing.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes. He was smirking at her now. Great, he did have the Shelby devilment to him. Her eyes widened at the realization that if he and Tommy ever saw eye to eye, there would be no stopping the dynamic duo. It was truly a terrifying thought with David's position in society coupled with Tommy's drive to be successful.

“Your brother seems to have the drive in him too. You're hardworking, loyal boys.” She patted his hand but stilled again when his smirk turned dark and dreary. There was a darkness and maliciousness to him. Maybe that had been what dev was warning her about.

“Watch Devlin on the loyalty part, he's only loyal to Winter.” He stated it like it was a common fact. No emotion in it at all.

“She's that good of a fuck?” Her question made David laugh, he sounded like his father even. He seems to soften at her boldness.

“Even before they fucked he was loyal to her. They slept in the same beds even though the nuns tried to beat them and separate them for it. Every night until he left. He's so blinded by her, he lives for her, breathes and works for her…no doubt would kill for her.” Polly nodded. She’d thought that herself when he spoke about her. She still hadn’t meant the magnetic star yet. She just knew Devlin was completely and totally enamored with her.

“I’ll keep that in mind. So besides wanting to know what Tommy is up to, do you want some lunch? I’m hungry and about to get grouchy.” To her surprise he nodded and offered his arm. He placed his hat on his head and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair.

“I’m picking the place though.” He added. She arched her brow in jest.

“Then I hope you're paying, God knows you're too expensive for me, especially losing pay today.” she smiled and walked past him as he laughed at her. She was glad for his visit. Even though now she was more concerned with all her men then she’d been before.

_____________________________________________________

David sauntered into the Garrison. It was busy, he wasn’t surprised but it may make it harder to talk to the target of his inquiry if she was busy. He sat down at the bar making sure he was being seen in her peripheral. She looked him up and down, wary of him.

“What can I get you, I haven't seen you around here.” She said nicely with a small smile on her face. He knew she was just being polite. Her thick Irish accent sounded clean and polished, mum was right. She wasn’t a commoner nor was she from around here.

“I usually go as far as my mums but she recommended this place. Guess my cousins own it.” He said smiling trying to be debonair and charming.

“Your cousins?” Her head tilted to the side as she questioned him. She was really searching his face. He knew he looked like them. Her eyes widened and she handed him whiskey. Brown. He frowned but smiled at her when she looked at him. He was used to white.

“Yes, Your grace right? My cousin Tommy has mentioned you. Down played your beauty though. Probably wants to keep you for himself” He winked at her. He’d slipped his ring into his pocket before he’d come in. Luckily he didn't have a crease on his left finger from it being so fitted. She had checked and looked. She blushed, he had her open to conversation now.

____________________

“ So how is your night going? Do you need me to drive down and distract you?” His mothers voice drifted through the phone. She’d remembered that Winter was gone now for a few weeks. They’d only been married a few months and parted for three years prior. He was trying to do well on his own again. He knew she’d be back but….

“Distract me, yes, you don’t need to drive over here. It's like a three hour drive, mum.” He chuckled as she scoffed. He could “see” her rolling her eyes.

“Your brother drove over here today, surprised me.” He could tell from the little lit in her voice that she’d enjoyed the visit. David had been distant. Dev was on high alert now.

“Yeah.” He said flatly hoping she’d pick up on the tension in his voice. He could feel his stomach tightening.

“Yes, he was upset with Tommy and his plans for London, whatever the hell they are. I was pleasantly surprised that he dropped by to talk.” She was guarded now choosing her words carefully. God, he hated this.

“Just…watch what you say. David hasn’t done anything without a reason for awhile. Since he got adopted and fell into high society he’ll do anything to protect his….position.” He waited for a few minutes wondering if the line went dead.

“Hello?”

“It's funny that, he warned me today that you were only loyal to one person. You two aren't as close as you first appeared are you?” She questioned him; her voice was low and careful.

Dev muttered something about dick and something else she couldn’t fully decipher.

“ Mum you don't understand, David is smart, take you and multiply your smarts by two with Tommy’s intelligence. He can play people like a violin and he will. He turned at the Orphanage. Probably a bit my fault. You see, he was a good kid so the nuns and families showered him with praise, sweets and affections. I think their perceptions started to turn him sour. He went from praying for you and us all to being together for praying for a good family away from the Shelby/Grey line. They manipulated him I guess is what I'm trying to say.” Devlin hated telling her this. He sounded like he was trying to bad mouth his brother. He wasn’t, he just knew what the other could be like. It was smart to err on caution.

“We’ll interesting. I take it you were the bad kid then by their high and mighty standards.” She had her warmth back and a laugh in her tone. He took an exhale.

“Fuck yeah.” He said proudly. He earned some of those punishments.

“You definitely have Shelby's arrogance in you.” she said laughing with him.

“Oh, I was told every day mum. Every day.” He added cheekily.

“We’ll, " I told him about Grace, asking for help finding out about her background. Figured he had higher up connections.” Devlin just grunted in response. Why was he helping his mum out? Dev shook his head. Maybe he was getting over it. He just couldn’t shake the dread.

“You don't like her, this Grace? Damn, glad you like my wife.” Dev knew his mother was an honest person and perhaps like him, too honest.

“I’ve only spoken to your wife but she seems like a genuine girl. I only get warmth from her. Grace is different. All she does is lie. I don't dislike her, honestly I don’t. I just want to make sure your cousin doesn't get hurt.” She stated. Devlin understood.

“Well I'm going to head out., I gotta do some jobs tonight.” He took any job he could so he wasn’t thinking about her or missing her. He planned to drag himself into this house and collapse in exhaustion.

“Legal ones?” she grumbled at him. She already knew the answer to her own question.

“G’night mum. Thanks for calling.” He laughed as she cursed at him. He hung up the phone and grabbed his jacket. He was looking forward to not thinking for a bit. 

[savagetrickster]

Stay with Me | BNHA

request:  Hi! Can I request a scenario where Bakugou thought that reader was starting to lose interest, but in reality reader is just really busy and doesn’t realize she’s treating baku differently and Bakugou confronting her about it then it ends with some fluff fluff. 💖 p.s luv ur work

anime | character:  bnha | bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 1949

themes/warnings: soft!bakugou, insecure bakugou,  college AU

a/n: sorry for not posting a fic in such a long time, I’ve been SO busy. so anyway, okay I kinda went little off-track and ended up writing the way it is shown below but i hope you’ll still enjoy reading this, though i have to say I’m not really fond of how it turned out. this fic has not been beta-ed so pardon me if you find any cringey error.

The city of Musutafu moved as sluggishly as possible for a city of its size and caliber. It was one of those days when the moon was mostly hidden behind the clouds.

Kirishima let his eyes roam the street outside. The inhabitants of the boulevard were constantly on the move despite being a Saturday; it was a startling contrast to the cafe they sat in where a comfortable nonchalance clung to every aspect of the little business.

The slow, sleepy music playing from the speakers.

The casual yet practiced movements of the baristas as they prepared the orders. 

The lazy, idling manners in the way the customers brought their cups to their lips. Carrying every bit of thoughtlessness and indifference in their actions.

Well, almost everyone but them.

A perplexed frown pinched between Kirishima’s brows as he turned his gaze away from the window beside them.

Bakugou Katsuki had been sulking at the window ever since he plopped into the seat across him. 

He had been sitting in brooding silence for what felt like fifteen minutes and the expression on his face hadn’t changed. If there were any at all, it was only that his scowl grew bigger.

“As much as I like hanging out with you, I have to say this is getting a little…weird.” 

Kirishima briefly flitted to the counter to see curious eyes on them, “My colleagues are starting to think we’re dating.”

Tonight was the fourth time Bakugou had come to find him right as he was knocking off from his part-time job this week. 

“Who gives a fuck about what they think?” Bakugou muttered gruffly,  finally looking away from the outside.  

Kirishima had known him ever since they met in middle school to know the scowl on Bakugou’s face was…well, his default expression. 

Long enough for him to tell at one glance that the scowl he’d been seeing on Bakugou’s face was different. This one seemed to come right out from the depth of his fierce vermilion eyes — Bakugou was upset.

And it was about you.

No matter how hard Bakugou tried to hide how much he was a sucker for you, Kirishima could always tell. 

Even though they had matured into college students, Bakugou was still the same stubborn guy who wasn’t the most comfortable displaying his affections openly.

Mere mentions of you would soften the scowl on his face, and the rough edge in his voice. It was easy for anyone else to miss the difference but it was obvious to Kirishima. 

His grumpy complaints about how clingy and touchy you are were one of their common topics in their conversations. The annoyance scowling in his eyes when he did was always subtly soft and warm. 

But something changed, as Bakugou had mentioned, in the recent two weeks.

Nights in his dormitory room were spent alone. He was so used to falling asleep and waking up, to the sight of you curling up right next to him.

The last time he saw you were from afar, watching you rushing off to somewhere. 

Dates with you, even as simple as a meal in the cafeteria was scarce. 

Your replies to his texts were late and sometimes curt. The usual ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ from you, if you didn’t spend the night with him, were no longer…usual. 

Sometimes his messages to you would be left hanging for days before you replied.

The tone when Bakugou was telling him about all these strange distances between them was nonchalant, but the scowl on his face told Kirishima a different story.

Kirishima tried to think of something to say, but all he could think of in the end was the same thing he’d been saying ever since Bakugou shared this with him.

“Stop worrying man, she’s probably just busy?”

Bakugou’s face carried a carefully blanked expression as he raised his eyes to meet Kirishima’s.

“…Or maybe she’s losing interest in me.” 

His arm was tucked between his pillow and his head as his other held his phone to his face. Vermilion eyes stared blankly at the quiet chatroom he shared with you, particularly fixated on your last reply to him.

Two days ago.

The gloom hung over his gaze these days were like the dreary seasons of dull, gray monsoons. 

The hopeful morning sun filtering into his room through the wooden window blinds above him was a startling contrast, and so was the lively laughter ringing out from the basketball court somewhere near the dormitory blocks. 

Probably some idiots shoving snow at each others’ faces, Bakugou thought seethingly as he clicked his tongue in annoyance at a particular spike of volume in the ruckus downstairs. 

It was Saturday and the morning was already—

His eyes flitted to the time written in the corner of his screen.

— halfway to noon.

A quiet sigh left him.

Like on Saturdays, he should be on the way to meet you for your usual brunch. Except things weren’t quite ‘usual’ anymore.

Bakugou released another sigh as he let his phone fall away from his face along with his raised arm, landing on the bed under him with a muffled ‘plop’.

His forehead ridged with a scowl. Just how did he fuck things up?

His memories sifted through the times he called you names and how you would still smile back at him like he was your whole world as if he didn’t just call you an idiot, a nerd, or a moron. 

A bitter taste of guilt entered his mouth.

Maybe he shouldn’t have assumed that you knew he was feeling affectionate when he did?

Perhaps you’ve grown sick of him? And realized that you didn’t need a shitty boyfriend who called you insulting names or would shrug off your affections as if they were annoyances.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth as a frustrated hiss slipped from him.

Shit, maybe he did fuck up afterall. Fucked up big time.

And he was probably going to lose you. Everything that made you…you.

The way you smiled at him with a loving, bright glint in your eyes as if he was the one who put the stars in the sky.

The sweet kisses you love to plant on his lips and forehead.

How your hand would hold onto his — small but warm with your love.

Bakugou felt his throat swell with the presence of forming tears as his heart twinged in his chest.

The idea of losing all that spurred a rush of panic in him.

Bakugou shot off his bed, put on the nearest shirt and jeans he could grab, and hurried out of his room.

The first place Bakugou thought to look for you was your dormitory but his worst fear made him hesitate at your door, with a hand hovering over its handle. 

In fact, he’d thought about doing this for the past two weeks but the wisps of doubts whispering nasty things wouldn’t let him.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth.

What if there was someone else— 

Bakugou shoved the unfinished thought aside; it was unbearable to even think about that possibility. 

His scowling gaze snapped to his hesitating hand and his lips instantly curled into a sneer to a spark of irritation within.

What was with him? He was starting to remind himself of Deku, hesitating outside doors with twiddling thumbs like a wimp.

He was Bakugou Katsuki and he should be announcing his arrival by bursting through one.

Man, you thought you could finally enjoy a good night’s sleep after countless of sleepless nights.

But no…nope. 

The heater just had to break down at an ungodly hour when you were still trudging through the last thesis for your project and you could find no other alternative places to work on them. 

Bakugou came across your mind but again, it was crazy late or more accurately, early to budge into your boyfriend’s room.

Like every other night, you’d been tirelessly working on it so you could finally submit the project you’d been assigned since two weeks ago.

It was the infamous final year project you’ve dreaded ever since you heard about it from your senior — dubbed as ‘the project from hell’.

And indeed, it was a project from hell. It seemed to suck out your very soul. The exhaustion weighing you down like lead ran bone deep, that even lifting your head off your pillow was such a struggle.

With a broken heater sitting uselessly in your room, you’d spent the whole night wrapped in your blanket, with the lingering winter chill prickling at your skin. 

So you couldn’t help sighing at the sudden warmth enveloping your body after spending the night shivering away under your blanket at the mercy of the dropping temperature.

Your arms found their way around the heat source.

You didn’t see the tender curl of his lips when you sighed blissfully and nuzzled into his chest or the softening glint in the usual fierce edge held in his vermilion eyes.

It was like nestling inside a warm cocoon that…

— awareness seeping into your groggy senses pried your eyes open.  

…breathed.

What or rather who greeted you lifted you right out of your morning grogginess and struck you with an overwhelming barrage of emotions.

“…Ka-Katsuki!” You missed him so much.

Along with how the shadows and sunlight filtering in from behind you fell across and highlighted his chiseled profile, there was something about the way his intense eyes looked down at you with his head leaning against an arm. 

This sight gave your heart a fluttery squeeze.

You weren’t sure why Bakugou looked so strikingly handsome like this — maybe it was because you haven’t seen him for awhile?

“When did you come in here?” Words started pouring out of your mouth. 

You’ve always wanted to vent and rant about the dumb project to Bakugou so there was too much you wanted to say, 

“Oh my god, you’ve no idea how much busy I was these few weeks-” but the brooding look that hadn’t left Bakugou stopped you.”…Katsuki?”

You’d never seen Bakugou look this down before, and it didn’t sit right with you.

You hesitated but asked anyway.“…What’s wrong?” 

The cloud that fell over his eyes told you that something was definitely wrong.

“…I’m sorry, (Name).”

You grew concerned as you tried to understand his unreadable demeanor. “What’s this about— ”

“Are you losing interest in me?”

Your next breath was caught in your throat at his strange question and the only thing you could do was blurt out a —“What?”

You watch him exhale carefully with a bewildered look. 

Bakugou didn’t even care how he looked to you now.

“Look, I know I’m a huge fuck-up as a boyfriend and you probably think I don’t care about our relationship cause I act like I don’t.”

There was so much to say, so much guilt brimming inside him. 

“But shit, I do care.”

He was desperate. 

He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t. He loved you but he was an idiot for not showing that to you. 

So he needed to let you know now.

His hand on your waist pulled you up to him and his eyes were pinned on yours.

Your mouth opened, then snapped close at the silent, blazing gleam in his gaze.

Your voice had fled at the way he stared at you. 

Longing and heavy with remorse.

“Stay with me,” His lips brushed lightly across yours as his voice cracked with an aching need.” …please.”

He kissed you and the world fell away.

[enha-woodzies]

➸ CHAPTER 11 | " HALF-HEARTED DELIGHT "

starring: enhypen ft. daniel

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon

genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting

warnings: mild swearing, mentions of blood, physical fight

word count: 3.2k whoo!

taglist: @serendipitysung @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @gyeraniee @fluffi @stxrryemxlys @jungwon-luv-bot-pt3 @lost-lepord-beanie @hyunsunge @thenoceurgirl @thonkingdeepo @sunshineshouchan @peachyun @youreverydayzebra

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"Esteemed members of the ton, lo and behold! I come bearing uplifting news from my unannounced hiatus. Some may have acquired it already, while some are still in utter disbelief of the recurring events that happened behind our backs. A month of mischiefs going around the North will not silence the ever-evasive sources that I have in the pad of my fingers. I may have run out of ink, but our lovely townfolks will never run out of scandals.

Are you ready to unfold the latest cunning scenes? A brief reminder, beware and be aware.

According to my eager sources, he was seen with bloody fists coming out from the Kielder Forest several weeks prior! The ton was abuzz yet again to discover that our beloved, Lord Jungwon, had his knuckles stained by going aggressive with the town's magnate of a marquess, soon-to-be Duke, Lord Park Sunghoon!

Now, did you think they went head to head, skin against skin, blood on the harsh ground, fighting over the heart of our dearest, coveted eligible, Miss Y/n Park?

If you think so, be my guest!

As it appeared that our precious jewel among the rocks was caught in a string of scandals when she was seen, traipsing around the Queen's Royal Garden in the dawn of the night with our dear second-born, Lord Yang Jungwon a week after the gentlemen’s brawl!

What do you think was our marquess’ response to this incident when it was his about-to-be Duchess, Miss Park, playing around with the gent whom he particularly had a bloody fight with weeks prior without his knowledge?

And what do you think went about with our precious jewel’s head that she brought such shame to her family and their name with her naughty doing?

Do note that she was frolicking under the dark evening with the enigmatic gent with no chaperone in sight! How could the family let this happen?

Not only that, they were practically seen sealing off the evening with multiple, intimate kisses on each other’s lips! My, my! I might even declare my intuitions being right all along seeing that the two have always been rather “friendly” since Lord Yang’s return from university.

But shall we have it be a pool of thought to ponder upon? Seeing the lady being promenaded by our dear Lord Park, the gallant Yang still pushed his agenda through and came between the lovely pair with such ingenuity. Several questions sprung out among the evasive citizens of the ton that got us all to play little detectives if not for this season’s finest scandal. And so we ask ourselves...

Did the young miss and the cunning lord plot a scheme against our duke-in-the-making? After all, the forest brawl that brought bruises upon the faces of our finely chiseled noblemen was more than a mere hint of affirmation to the mind-boggling situation, considering they had their knuckles bloody for her.

Can our young miss redeem herself from the shame and mischief she brought upon her family’s name and impress the Queen for her imminent wedding? Well, there’s only one answer to that. We might have to see for ourselves.

Till then, this has been The Daily Tattle, finally back from the sporadic travels and living up to its name of being the ton’s favorite insider, giving you the juiciest and beefiest tattle from the North.

See you at the grand wedding!"

With the night still young and so illuminating, it’d be madness not to stroll around the barely bustling town. It was almost the end of the season as marriages were taking place here and there and the chilly night’s air was abroad in the night.

Having no heart to inform their household of their evening absence, the two gentlemen, yet again, were going all out fierce and headstrong against each other as Sunghoon demanded to meet Jungwon for another case to be justified. But justified they were under the bright moonlight as harsh hittings were the only means of satisfaction they could think of.

The sound of flesh against clenched fists and bodies crashing on the ground resonated among the Kielder Forest, a mecca for brooding gentlemen who like to settle their matters illicitly.

When nobody is around, the trees gossip about the people who have walked under them. Everyone says they love nature until they realize how arcane and dangerous she can be. It’s such a shame that the humble, little bats who came to relax among the branches suddenly started flying one by one with the bedlam that’s transpiring beneath them.

“I assume you’re delighted now that you have her back in your arms. You’re not fooling anyone, Yang! Now that she and her family are under mortification of your scandalous frolics in the dark, I doubt they’d let you crawl back in her life again. Especially when the whole ton knows how you took the purity of her lips!”

“And you think she’d run back to you? A stupid bloke you are, eh? Need I remind you, Park, you fooled the whole ton with your little scheme so don’t turn the tables on me about mortifying her and her family! Once everybody in the ton and the Queen herself hears about this, your reputation may as well be more doomed than ours!”

The unrestrained lad landed another heated fist upon Jungwon’s face for what seemed to be the nth time now. Jungwon, on the other hand, remained steady on the ground, collar gripped by the former’s grasp, lips and nose bleeding from Sunghoon’s maddening attacks.

“If Y/n and I both stick to the story; you can’t prove anything!”

“You foul git! I respected you for the longest time that I could bear, Park. Despite the misunderstanding that stood between you and Riki, I still let you confide in me behind their backs because I fucking respected you as my friend! I have always known you an asshole but I never thought you a villain. But seeing how desperate you would go to torture me and Riki with my lover, you are indeed deemed fit to be called as the fucking prat that you are-”

And there goes another bloody knuckle swung against Jungwon’s other cheek, making his nose bleed more and look broken as if it wasn’t enough for Sunghoon’s liking yet.

“It is your fault for consoling me in secrecy when you could have been a better man and wrote her back letters! You let her slip, Yang, don’t blame your stupidity on me when you had your choices but you chose to watch them get chosen by me! I can give her anything in this world, anything you missed out I will fulfill, no thanks to you!”

“You're paying a small price compared to what she's going through. Piss off, Park, you no longer deserve her.”

The marquess was swiftly pushed aside by the latter and his back freely fell on the cold ground, eyes staring into the openness that are the trees, dancing as if it didn’t witness the chaos from the fueled lads.

“I’ll let you go this time. But I am not backing out of this charade if it means acquiring her hand in the aftermath of my efforts. I guess we’ll have to find out at church in four weeks’ time.”

Followed by the clashing of the horse tacks and muddy boots, Jungwon quickly strutted toward their parlor, hair disheveled, face stained, and chest heaving from the long travel he just took. As the advent of his proposal was gradually sinking in, he found a desperate need to inform his family as early as now.

“Mother, there is something I must tell you.” He huffed out exhales as he found support against their end table in the parlor, looking downright flushed along with his unkempt entourage.

“Good heavens! Sweetheart, what did you bury in the garden? Look at you!”

“Mother, I am to marry a lady.” Lady Yang’s brows furrowed in confusion followed by a slight scoff. She found it a tad bit funny, hearing his son saying nonsense as if it wasn’t even obvious yet.

“Of course, you are! You and your brothers are ought to be,”

“I am to marry her in the next four weeks, Mother!” And this time, her eyes widened in shock.

“Good lord, why are you in such a rush? Did Lady Choi-”

“I’m marrying Y/n.”

 “Oh dear,” She muttered under her breath. “Oh no— Jungwon, honey,” She placed a hand against her son’s stained cheek, softly wiping a tear away before caressing it. “but she and the marquess are-”

“Not yet married! And I assure you they won’t be,”

“In the eyes of the ton, they already are,” Sunoo, who just came out from his scheduled readings in the foyer, butted in with a look of disdain plastered all over his face.

“In the eyes of the church, they’re not! Lest my love does not have the word Duchess beside her name, she is a woman of her own! She has always been,”

“Have you ever thought of the possibility that you’re a little too late for that?”

“You weren’t there that night, brother! You could’ve seen the sparkle in her eyes when we held each other; I cannot be too late in this,”

“Well, does she have knowledge about this? W-Wha… How?” Lady Yang, with worried eyes, props down on their couch to process the sudden confession from her second-born son who has always expressed his objection towards the young miss.

“I have already apprised her of my proposal,” Silence engulfed the entire room and Jungwon’s heavy breathing was the only thing audible. “And I am giving her all the time that she needs at the very moment to make up her mind as she asked me to.”

“What makes you so confident she will choose you over him? I mean, being a Duchess isn’t at all far-fetched when the soon-to-be Duke’s in love with her. Are you certain you’re not being stupid again before going back to her with sickening heartaches?” Sunoo chimed in.

“Brother, for the longest time, I tried and masked my yearning by creating unreasonable fights with her where our small talks turned into screaming wars. What’s worse was that we don’t even remember why we were fighting in the first place. There is no better time than now to put my genuine intentions out in the open. She is your friend and I understand how frustrated you are with me for being a constant pain in the ass,”

Jungwon closed the gap between him and Sunoo with a tight, reassuring embrace. “but I assure you, brother, I truly, madly, deeply love her. I don’t think I’m the right person to answer your first question, because it is up to her now.”

Sunghoon saunters up the young miss’ manor for a rather spontaneous promenade. It had been almost a week since the barbaric brawl between the two chaps and Sunghoon decided to let some of his wounds heal in the given timeframe to not worry the lady, though he had made a poor job of hiding the damage.

As if the scandals written on the controversial paper weren’t enough yet, he planned to confront Y/n to satisfy his lingering doubts. As soon as he walked in, she felt the tension. She felt that chill that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stiff when he walked into the room.

“Pleasant morning, my lady.”

“Sunghoon… Your Grace, would you care to break your fast with me?” Y/n was caught off guard by the marquess’s unannounced arrival, stuttering in between ample munches of her brioche.

“I daren’t stay long. I just had to see you… I had to hear your voice.”

“Oh,” Y/n slowly puts down her buttery piece of bread, staring blankly at the marquess. “But I don’t recall any scheduled promenades today, or did my mind slip this time?”

“With the recent events that made me the last person to have knowledge of, I’m certain it did.”

“Sunghoon, I-” dropping the fork against her porcelain plate, Y/n’s mouth gawked at the sudden realization of what Sunghoon meant.

Taking into account that it had been several days since The Daily Tattle released their recent reports, the young miss had feared that such news would reach her loving marquess, especially when the two were subtly yearning for each other at some point in their ruse.

Sunghoon squints. “Was it true? Did Jungwon…” he hisses. “did you and Jungwon-”

“Yes,” And one word was all it took for Sunghoon to close his eyes and let the void swallow him whole, slowly letting out a rather ragged exhale, a tear escaped his eyes. Another evidence of his body betraying him and putting across what he had been keeping for the past few days since the scandal blew up.

He never admitted to himself, but he knew he was always fond of the young miss; too fond that even his sentiments kept him up at night, thinking whether she feels the same way.

“Sunghoon, liste-”

“Walk with me. Promenade with me for the last time, will you? I am in desperate need to tell you something I have been conserving for the longest time now and I cannot bear to watch you slip your hands in his without hearing my wishes.” The young miss nodded in approval and quickly left their manor for a public stroll near Swan’s Lake, where every single soul of Northumberland was lounging at.

It was late AM, there’s bright sunshine and the pair were walking along the bank of the lake where the grass is always greener, while a restless feeling was holding them down. They were having a hard time opening up a conversation that the elephant itself thought it a shame, it didn’t even want to talk about the people in the room, or should we say the lake.

“So, you took him back, huh? For a moment there I thought you were bluffing.” Sunghoon clears his throat afterward.

“I thought it was time.” Y/n bit the insides of her cheek in utter guilt. Though she shouldn’t feel that way, she’s confident enough she’d hurt Sunghoon’s feelings in the process.

“I’m sure you enjoyed yourself that night. Don’t get me wrong, this shouldn’t sound like a snide remark. I am indeed impressed; happy for you even.” It took a great deal of courage, to swallow up all his affectionate sentiments and aid himself by watching the love of his life embrace their gleeful state with someone else; and someone else being his fellow nobleman whom he learned to resent over time.

The feeling stings, making him feel a bit lightheaded for repressing them enough.

“Well? What happened? I want all the details!” He decided that the time had come to be stronger than any of the excuses he’d used until then. As much as it pains him to hear her talk about Jungwon, he has no other choice but to be all ears for the woman he had come to adore.

“Why would you want to put yourself through something like that? The ruse, I mean. Why did you even care to raise such a suggestion that night?” The young miss halted from her tracks and turned to face Sunghoon, shooting him a concerned look.

“I genuinely wanted to help, Y/n. I had no idea that the matters were already much complicated between you two,” His voice began to falter as he lowered his gaze. “I never meant for it to go this far but at some point I realized, I don’t think I could live alone again.”

“You did a bad thing for a good reason. I have you to be grateful for, if not for the whole scheme, Jungwon and I-”

“If not for the whole scheme, you two would not have been the happiest duo that you are now,” Sunghoon, with an almost quivering voice, gulped down before an attempt to finish his sentence. “at least I finally did something right.”

“Don’t say that. Meeting you was enough bliss to say the most. I do not often get such an opportunity to talk to someone like you, and that means a whole lot.”

Sunghoon was at a crossroads and whichever path he chose would ruin someone’s life; that being his, for giving up the one good thing that felt real, Y/n’s, for forcing her into a life she never desired in the first place, or Jungwon’s, for taking away the one real thing he’s ever known and hoped for in his lifetime.

“I’m sorry if this upsets you, but I love you, Y/n.”

She blinked, many a time to confirm her hidden fear. She suddenly felt her throat dry and how almost nothing would come out from her lips beside her staggering breaths. Slowly, she took Sunghoon’s pale hands in hers and locked her gaze upon his, making sure not to break eye contact for the sincerity to come across.

“I’m sorry if this upsets you too… but I’m thinking of marrying him.”

It was time, he thought. He’d fought against it for so long. He had decided to accept his fate of accepting his fate. But one, tiny spark of hope gave him a little nudge in the side and did what seemed improbable, but likely enough to happen.

Sunghoon knelt down on one knee against the damp ground, never minding the stain that would hardly come off his pure white, satin knee breeches he’d normally wear on very special occasions; as if this one wasn’t already special enough.

Eyes quickly darted upon them as bystanders and promenaders paused from their traipsings and gandered on the coveted pair. It was Northumberland after all. Every single proposal can never go unspoken and unseen for everyone’s evasive enough to butt their heads into other people’s businesses. No one would want to miss a single proposal in sight.

“Y/n, for the brief time I’ve known you, I had felt nothing but pure joy for the warmth you’ve always shared with me. I could not bear this any longer. Y/n, make me the happiest man in the world,” The urge to interrupt him before he had finished was overwhelming, Y/n could even feel like fainting on the spot.

Before Sunghoon could say the conceivable words, the deafening roar of the thunder overhead confirmed his worst fears. The view from the ground terrified even the most seasoned traveler. He wasted no more of their time and tightened his grasp on her hands, a little fidgety to say the least. His eyes stared straight into her soul, throwing the magnetic feel of her divine abyss aside, and mustered up all the courage left in him no matter how ragged and dry his breaths already became.

Y/n’s heart began to sound like a bass drum against her chest, deliberately going faint before it went banging once again.

It was noon, a downpour was about to go off and the pair were settled stiffly along the bank of the lake where the grass started to look muted from its previous, healthy state; a gloomy feeling was holding the two down.

*send me an ask or a message if you wish to be added on this series' taglist!

ㅡ © ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021

[sugarydolli]

Princess [Bakugou x Reader] 18+

Title - Princess

Total words - 1.8k

Pairing - no quirk! tattoo artist! Katsuki Bakugou x slut!reader

Warnings - rough sex, chocking, biting, almost getting caught, bruises, cursing

Summary - Your Friend Mina took a rain check for a tattoo appointment you had with her, but not before recommending a friend of hers instead

Health reminder: BLM and that's facts luv

-

You came in for a casual appointment, nothing time consuming or that would take hours. Just a 30 minute small tattoo with a cute font.

That was of course until you saw your artist. He was built, Blonde Spikes crowding his head with soul-piercing red eyes. His arms covered with tattoos up to his neck, some peaking from his chest through his black tank top. He glanced up seeing your figure at the door, motioning you over with his hand.

You unconsciously licked your lips making your way to him, plopping yourself down on his table. "Your the one who asked for the ass tat, right?" He spat, cleaning his tools. A small blushed dusted your cheeks remembering the tattoo you called in for. "Yea, but it's actually under my ass-" Correcting him, bringing up a picture from your phone to show him.

He grumbled before asking you to turn over so he could start. "Wouldn't you feel kinda weird..since you.. know." You mumbling twiddling your fingers. He gave you an unamused eye roll, "It's not the first ass I've seen before and it's mostly likely not the last now turn over."

Heat rose to your cheeks as you lifted your tiny skirt, revealing a lacey light pink thong. A small groan was able to make it past his lips before he cleared his throat asking which cheek. You pointed to your right, avoiding eye contact at all costs. "The names Y/N right?" He cleaned off the area, slightly pausing at the small whimper that came from your mouth as the cold sensation touched the sensitive area.

"Yea and yours is Bakugou?" You managed to squeak out. He mumbled a yea as he tried to focus on the area beginning to start the tat. Bakugou would casually sneak glances at your ass, as time passes. "I've seen you around the shop, how'd you end up in my chair?" You explained how you were on the phone with your usual artist Mina, discussing your appointment and the details. Unfortunately last minute she couldn't make it but she recommended you to her friend which was him.

"Makes sense." He slowly inked in the first letter. Bakugou could feel his cock twitch as you would slightly flinch at the foreign movement by your ass. His thoughts filled with the image of railing you into the table as he desperately focused on getting the tattoo done. You bit back your moans while he gripped your thigh, lust filling your eyes.

His clothed fingers running over your inner thighs inching closer and closer to your slit. Bakugou took a deep breath, "Jesus your such a fucking tease," A sweet huh slipped from your lips turning back towards him. "I can practically smell your arousal." He pointed out sliding one of his thick fingers down your clothed slit. A soft moan escaped your lips from the contact.

Bakugou knew he couldn't take the throbbing sensation in his painfully erect cock as he set his pen down, gripping into your plushy thigh. He slid you over just so your legs dangled down the table and him face to face with your cunt. You proceeded to flip over to give him easier access to your awaiting cunt. Bakugou licked a long stripe up before moving the fabric to the side. Navigating his fingers to your sopping entrance he slowly nibbled on your clit, slipping two fingers into you.

A loud moan forced its way out your mouth, instinctively you grabbed a fist full of his soft blonde spikes. He continued to swirl his tongue around your puffy clit while his fingers stretch you out with each stroke. You struggled to lift your wobbling knees. Noticing this, his free hand grabbed your left thigh with ease not even breaking away from your pussy once.

Your eyes started to roll back as your head tilted back. His name drooling off your lips as your vision was clouded. Bakugou removed his large fingers from your hole earning a small whine from you. He slapped your cunt before rubbing your clit entering his tongue inside you. Your eyebrows knotted as you crossed your eyes from the feeling, screaming out his name in pleasure. "Call me Katsuki" he mumbled into your cunt, the vibrations fueling your pleasure.

"You taste so sweet, princess" Katsuki's tongue reaching deeper, sliding across your walls with each pump, you could feel the small knot in your stomach increase. He pushed you to your limit, groaning at the tugs to his scalp from your lewd figure. "Katsuki I'm gonna cu-!" Your sentence came to an abrupt stop, lifting your dazed head to see a trail of saliva from the ash blonde and your cunt.

"Why'd you..stop.." you subconsciously looked down at him with huge puppy dog eyes, a small bit of drool trailing down the corner of your cheek.

A wicked smirk dashed across his face as he wiped away the slime trail. "The real fun hasn't started baby." Removing his tank top revealing his chiseled torso, you quietly curse to yourself drinking the sight. Tattoos littered around with a few skin peaks here and there, the most noticeable being a red dragon. Katsuki's large hands gripped both of you thighs roughly pulling you towards him.

You moan at the contact of his belt buckle against your heat, Your juices leaving a slight spot on his hands. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a long-awaited kiss. You could taste the sweetness of your juices on his lips as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. After a minute or so he pulled away from your warm cavern, leaving open mouth kisses down your jaw to your neck. He buried himself into the crook, suckling on the tender skin, leaving small purple spots along the way.

Katsuki started to thrust into your exposed cunt for relief as his erection screamed to be freed from his pants. You bucked your hips meeting these thrusts, Moans filling the room at a higher volume. Groaning in between kisses, he bit down on a particular sweet spot. "Katsuki!" a loud moan from the back of your throat flew into the air, noticing this Katsuki started to abuse the small spot with rough tugs and suckles from his teeth. His belt buckle catching onto your clit sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. Katsuki lifted himself off your smaller frame, catching a good look at the purple bruises and teeth marks he left on your neck. "Let me fuck you properly before I cum in my pants, princess." he says while unbuckling his pants, His aching cock finally freed from its confinement. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight of his meaty cock, his thick vein and pink-tinted tip making your mouth water as you ran your up and down from the base to the tip. Katsuki used his large hands to pump himself a few times while asking if you were on the pill.

You responded with a nodded as an animalistic smirk formed on his face. Mesmerized by the sight of you underneath him, Katsuki licked his lips before aligning himself with your tight gushing hole, teasingly pushing in the tip. The size of his tip was enough to make a long honeyed moan brush past your lips. This moan being music to his ears, he pushed in slowly with only half his rock hard cock, the veins on his dick giving your walls a new sensation then past experiences. "Fuck" in a breathy moan he slowly pushed the rest of his throbbing cock into your tight hole, barely kissing your cervix.

One of Katsuki's large hands clamped over your abused neck, his fingers running over the small hickeys. He thrust into you, using your neck to match his thrust. Katsuki kept thrusting into your cunt, pinching your clit harshly as another knot build up in the pit of your stomach. He would pinch the small orb as hard as he could before rubbing it soothingly, the pain only adding to your pleasure. His cock ramming into your cervix with each rough thrust, you felt your knees dissolve in the pleasure.

Soon enough Katsuki flipped you over. Now laying on your stomach while he re-entered your needy cunt, He could feel himself being sucked in instantly. "So fucking needy princess," Katsuki slapped your ass, leaving a red hand mark. He placed his hands on your hips, slightly digging his finger nails in your plushy ass before giving you a violent thrust into you g-spot. "Fuck! Right there" your eyes squeeze shut as you came from the impact, your juices spilling onto his tattoo bed while a scream like moan dried your throat as you arched your back.

He continued to assault the squishy spot inside you pounding relentlessly while the table shook underneath the both of you. The overstimulation kicked in as you came down from the high, panting heavily while looking dazed with lidded eyes. "You liked that?" He moaned, giving another slap to your ass like before. You bit your lower lip, moaning a yes in response. "Answer me Brat?" He slapped your ass once more until you practically screamed out yes. Katsuki knew at this point he wasn't gonna last long, he felt his dick twitch a few times indicating his release.

However over the sound of skin slapping he could hear the front door's bell. "Yo, bakubro you still here man?" A fimilar voiced slowed his impactful thrust, as the tears gathering by your eyes slid from them widening. His large hands quickly came to clasp over your mouth, "I just got started, Shitty Hair"

He slowly started to pound back into you. "Well, I think I'm gonna get something to eat before my client comes then." His friend shouted the sound of his shoes seemly getting farther from Bakugou's station. The front door could be heard closing from the bell once again ringing.

"That was close huh princess?" Katsuki continued to runt his hips into you once again. With his hands still covering your mouth, your muffled moans leaving his hands wet in slobber. His thrust became sloppy as his end was finally near. He could feel his balls tighten as one particular thrust caused him to shoot rope after rope of hot sticky cum into your cunt, causing another body shaking orgasm from yourself. He let out a few grunts as his thrust aimlessly thrusted into you after he pumped his sticky load into your cunt.

At this point you could barely move your head as his cum slid out of your cunt from around his cock, making its way to the floor. Katsuki pulled out slowly, gazing at the sight of you. He wiped a bit of sweat off his chin before pulling his pants up, handing you a near by towel. You struggled to flip over before Katsuki helped you clean your self off. Catching a glimpse of his sweaty abs as he readjusted his pants.

Needless to say you got more than a tattoo.

-

So a bird jus flew past my window and it made a sound and for some reason I've been laughing at that for the past fifteen minutes, I'm currently question my sanity.

WHY IT PUT ONE OG MY OC NSMES INSTEAD OF Y/N OMG

[boymeetsweevil]

the most magical place in hell

Grouping: (For Science) Reader x JK

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings/Themes: implied sex, 5 is a crowd annoying friends since that’s the vibe these days, d*sn*y please don’t sue

Prompt: “For Science, I miss this couple sm. Any scenario would be fantastic! For inspo, did JK and OC get to go on a vacation, (jk expressed he wanted to in his journal) if so how did that go? Any fun new experiments?”

A/N: This commissioned fic is part of the Changes with Luv project, hosted by FicsWithLuv. Here you can find more information about the project, cause, places to donate, and ways to commission a piece or offer your services if you are a content creator. Thank you!

On the third day of the cruise, Jungkook rolls over in his sleep. His hand reaches for you. His palm meets the bare skin of your shoulder already moving despite how pale the morning light is under his lashes.

“What’s happening,” he mumbles before grabbing more greedily at you. There’s not too much resistance as you let yourself be dragged a few inches across the sheets.

“We have to get up. Breakfast starts in 10 minutes, remember?”

You lean down to press a peck just above his brow bone and he groans. As you pull away, there’s a sweet waft that hits him and lets him know you’ve already showered and gotten ready. Now it’s his turn.

He gives himself just until you gather your things and shut the door to the room. Then he’s pulling himself out of bed with every ounce of energy he has left. He brushes his teeth with his eyes closed, does a perfunctory shower with the lights off like it’ll give him some more sleep. But he’s still dead tired as he throws on an outfit and heads out the door.

The walk to the dining area was exciting 3 days ago. The decadent decor, the view from the high balcony separating his floor from the others, the grand 20’s style atrium with Mickey Mouse memorabilia incorporated throughout. Everything used to be exciting 3 days ago. Sadly, the first day passed and things quickly lost their charm.

As he scoops a smiley-face omelette onto his plate in the buffet line, he searches for your face in the crowd of families scarfing down their first meals of the day so they can take their kids to the waterfall pool on deck 6. By the time he reaches the end of the line, there’s still no sight of you among the tables. So he ventures outdoors where there’s less seating but considerably more sun. He thinks back to his quick routine in the room. Did he remember to put on sunscreen?

When he finds you, you’re stretched out on a beach chair and taking in some of the sun. His mood is partially lifted when he sees just how content you look getting warmed like a lizard on a rock in your tiny bikini. He stands over you deliberately just to see you pout and pull down your sunglasses with a huff.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“Who’d you think it was?”

“I thought it was Hoseok about to ask me to take his profile pic again.”

Jungkook chuckles a little before sitting in the open seat next to you. “Couldn’t have been him. Too early.” “That’s true.” You sit up then, peering at his plate. “What’d you get us?”

“Us?” His smile is warm. “I thought you’d have eaten by now with the way you left the room.”

“I was looking for an empty spot for us. It was your job to find the actual food.”

“No one else would willingly wake up this early,” he cuts a fraction of the omelette before holding the bite up to you. “But I guess it’s only fair.”

You open your mouth happily.

“Permission to board the S.S. girlfriend?”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m wasting fuel in the port,” he continues to hover the fork just outside your reach, even when you jump forward with a nip.

“Permission to board,” you grumble.

He laughs like you told a great joke and gently feeds you the bite. With soft eyes, he watches you point to different things on the plate and dutifully feeds you your fill. This might be the first time he’s been able to spend a few moments alone with you since the five of you got on the cruise. He finishes up the bit of toast you couldn’t finish and the few blueberries that didn’t interest you. He must be staring because you turn to him in your reclined position and return the favor.

“You’re looking a little red. Did you put on sunscreen?”

“I think I forgot. I was trying to get ready fast so you wouldn’t have to sit around alone.”

“I wasn’t alone,” you reach into the bag you brought for sunscreen. “Yoori was with me. She left for the gym maybe 2 minutes before you came out here.”

“Oh,” is all he says.

Jungkook scowls a bit as you rub the lotion onto his face. That Yoori and Hoseok, and probably even Taehyung, might be spending more time with you on this trip than him is starting to be the horrible icing on this shitty vacation cake.

“Why don’t we take some time to—” He begins but a large shadow looming over the two of you makes him stop in his tracks.

“Hey,” a man with thick blond hair and even thicker muscles nods down at you. “You were at the adult lounge last night, right?”

Jungkook’s mouth drops open. Thor—or the actor who plays him during the Marvel day activities—has come up to your spot. He’s got the Ragnorok breastplate on with board shorts adorning his chiseled lower half. From the top up, he looks just like the real thing.

“Wow. Yeah I was, I’m surprised you remember,” you hold a hand over your eyes so you can look up at “Thor”.

“How could I forget. You and your beautiful friend were quite the sight yesterday.”

“Oh, uh. Thanks.”

In all his excitement, he overlooks the flirting. Jungkook stands up from his seat then and sticks out his hand. “Thor” shakes it hesitantly.

“Hey. I know you’re not the real thing, but it’s great to see you. I wasn’t at the adult lounge last night, so we didn’t get to meet.”

Jungkook makes sure to puff out his chest so “Thor” will notice the print of his button down shirt. Tiny little hammers.

“Do you like the shirt?” He beams. 

“Thor” squints down at the animated hammers.

“I can’t say I really know what’s on it, but sure.” 

“They’re...they’re Mjölnirs.”

“Mole-whats?”

You gasp, clapping your hands over your mouth. 

Jungkook drops “Thor”’s hand at the same moment, disappointment turning down the corners of his mouth.

“Nothing. They’re just drawings. Have a good day, man.”

“Thor” chuckles before looking back down at you. “Cute kid,” he says before sending you a wink and making some comment about getting to rehearsal.

Yoori returns from the gym that moment, nearly running into “Thor”. He gives her an appreciative once over which she returns smugly. Her expression changes as she approaches you and Jungkook looking like you had both seen a car crash.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you respond quickly with a subtle look at the back of Jungkook’s head to tell her ‘not now’.

“Well,” she plops down on the end of Jungkook’s beach chair, “How was breakfast?”

“It was fine,” Jungkook sighs and scoots back so she’ll have some room. “We finished a little while ago. Now we’re just making plans for the rest of the morning.”

“Couple stuff...I’ll go get myself a plate, then.”

You wait until Yoori’s disappeared into the dining area to turn to Jungkook. He doesn’t look angry per se. Just resigned.

“What were you saying before?”

“Hmm,” his eyes are far away, “I was just saying we could take some time to ourselves.”

He wants to say he feels like he’s barely seen you since he stepped on the ship, but he doesn’t want to make you feel bad. The funny thing is that you weren’t even looking forward to the trip before the first day. The tickets for this Marvel cruise were a last minute gamble. You had dropped many not-so-subtle hints about wanting to go somewhere a little less kid-friendly, but he’d waited until the last minute.

At first it seemed like the best possible last choice a person could have. You were all fans of the comics and movies with the exception of Taehyung and Yoori. Taehyung was more of a DC fan and Yoori just sort of let the movies wash over her. You’d been worried that the week would be torture for you with all the screaming kids around. But you were actually having the time of your life. Meanwhile Jungkook was having a less than ideal time.

“Sure. Like what?”

“Maybe we could relax? I’ve had research video meetings the last two nights, so I haven’t really been up for the late night stuff. And I’m just barely up for the morning stuff.”

“Hmm. What about the spa? I haven’t been there yet and it’s on my list.”

“The spa?” Yoori comes out with a mountain of waffles and rumpled-looking Taehyung and Hoseok behind her. “Yeah, let’s go to the spa!”

“Actually, I think Kook just wanted to—”

“I heard it’s actually pretty decent on this boat. They have a hot rock massage where all of the rocks look like the Tinman’s suit.”

“The Tinman,” Jungkook practically chokes.

“I think she means Iron Man,” Hoseok grins sleepily. “Anyway, I’m down for the spa thing too. Never too early to have a tiny lady go in on my thighs.”

“You’re literally so nasty,” Yoori glares back at him.

As your other friends bicker, you flash Jungkook an apologetic look. He shrugs because that’s easier than fighting it. He relishes the second plate of food you get for him and lets you feed him the bites in between kisses and mini-reapplications of sunscreen. It’s all the rest he gets that day. The spa is probably the least relaxing moment of his life.

He doesn’t even get to sit near you. Instead, he gets roped into the men’s section where Hoseok’s tiny lady goes too hard on his thighs and the resulting yelps make Jungkook’s ear drums pound. Taehyung falls asleep two minutes into the Iron Man hot rock massage and snores in a way that’s nearly identical to the 60 year old guests napping nearby.

You emerge from the women’s section with Yoori looking like you’d smell and feel like a rose petal. But Jungkook doesn’t ever find out if you do, because he’s being thrown right back into more “fun”. Somewhere in the back of his mind—between Black Widow meet and greet and the Ant-Man lunch show—he thinks that he would probably be having actual fun if he had some time to breathe. Although, he figures it’s enough to just breathe you in. He feels slightly less drained looking at your smiling face and wide eyes as a wild Hulk appears behind you at the pool after lunch, spraying you lighty with comically huge muscles and a comically tiny water gun.

“You’re not coming?”

Jungkook groans, partly out of guilt and partly out of exhaustion. It’s nearing 10:30 at night and you’re getting ready to go to the adult lounge again. This time it’s for all-things-Spiderman trivia and drinks. He wants to want to go. But he can’t find the strength. He figures too much sun and too much socialization is the answer.

“You’re not staying,” he counters as he does his best to sit up in bed. There’s a nice soft glow bleeding in from the giant picture window of the suite that looks onto the water and there’s some Loki pajamas calling his name. Your tight little dress is calling to him too. I’d look better on the floor, it says.

“I figured this would be a lot more lowkey than everything else we’ve done today. There’s no water and no noisy families. Or screaming Hoseoks.”

“You heard that earlier?”

“I did,” you grimace. “He must have really pissed off that masseuse.”

“I’m pretty sure he just talked with her like he talks normally.”

“Can’t fault her for that, then.”

There’s a beat of silence as you test the security of some strappy heels. Naturally your eyes wander from the shoes to your boyfriend. He’s tapping away at some emails on the ship’s slow wifi no doubt. If you couldn’t tell how tired he was from the slope of his shoulders and the bruise-like shadows under his eyes, the giant yawn he barely stifles is a giveaway.

“Maybe I could just—”

The door to your suite swings open, revealing Taehyung looking frightened in a silky peach button down as Yoori pinches Hoseok’s ear.

“You’re coming, right? Please tell me you’re coming.”

“She’s coming,” Jungkook pipes up from the bed. His eyes never leave the screen of the computer as he types away, but he blinks slow and long. Your heart aches a little.

Taehyung breathes out a sigh of relief and links arms with you. You get one last look at your exhausted boyfriend before you’re pulled out of the room entirely.

“Do you think they’ll even bother asking about the Garfield version?” Taehyung’s question shakes you out of your worry.

“Pfft, no.”

On the fourth day of the cruise, Jungkook is awakened earlier than he wants yet again. A large clap of thunder and the bolt of lightning flash from the other side of the window. He crawls quietly around your sleeping form and throws on his glasses. There’s heavy rain too—a sure sign that the pools and sundecks will be closed. Out of habit, he checks his email and sees a message from the ship coordinator.

Esteemed Guests,

As some of you may know, two performers at last night’s dinner show in House of Mouse theatre (Deck 5, room 6B) showed signs of a stomach bug during the performances. For the safety of the rest of the cast, staff, and guests, we will be postponing today’s shows to sanitize the performance rooms and allow the actors time to recover. Room service will still be available.

We know this is a large inconvenience, and to thank you for understanding, please check your trip accounts for a refund for today’s fares. Additionally...

Jungkook can’t help the fist pump and small hoot he lets out. The email gives him the same feeling he gets on those days when he wakes up hours before his alarm only to discover his professor had cancelled class for the day. With a skip in his step, he returns to bed.

When he wakes up hours later, it’s natural. You’re still spooned to him, still soft and warm and pliant in sleep. He runs the tip of his nose along your neck while the fog of sleep lifts. The smell of your soap and skin is warmed with sleep. The sniffing must tickle you, because you stir before arching against him in a morning stretch. He moves so he doesn’t get in the way of your swinging limbs and smiles to himself. It feels like it’s been forever since he last got to hold you like this without the threat of someone whisking you away.

“Morning,” your voice is gravelly from disuse. “What’s going on. What’s the plan?”

“There’s no plan.”

You’re still half asleep, but you have the social awareness to let your voice go high with incredulity. “No plan?”

“No plan. They sent an email.”

“Read it to me?”

He reads the formal apology while you turn in the covers so you can embrace him while you wake up. By the time he’s done reading, you’ve sat yourself up to look at his phone screen as well.

“Sounds good,” you chirp.

“Really? I would have thought you’d be disappointed about not having a packed day. You’ve been zooming around since we got on board.”

“Yeah, but this was supposed to be our time together. It’s only natural that your friends would tag along.”

“So they’re my friends now?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Only when they’re annoying.”

As if on cue, the front door sounds with knocking. Taehyung is the one who calls out about breakfast plans, but you know all three of them are out there. It’s almost a menacing thought.

“Your friends are here,” he groans. His head falls back onto his pillow defeatedly. They’re likely to burst in any second.

“Don’t worry.”

The sound dies down momentarily when Yoori mentions the extra keycard you gave her for emergencies. Hoseok and Taehyung continue to jiggle the door for sport while chatting idly. Meanwhile, you crawl underneath the sheets and re-emerge on Jungkook’s side of the bed. You look him over, as if searching for something. He’s about to ask what you’re looking for when you reach out and pinch both his cheeks suddenly. While he’s mid-yelp, you swoop in and nip at his lips. It’s quick but it was just harsh enough that his face looks blotchy and his mouth starts to swell.

He whines. “Is this because I called them your friends?”

“Just trust me,” you hiss before your hands disappear further down the sheets to tug off your own underwear and throw it towards the door.

A moment later, the door swings open to reveal Yoori, Hoseok, and Taehyung. Their smiles are bright until they take in the scene. Jungkook’s hair is a mess, his cheeks are flushed, and his mouth looks like it’s been lightly ravaged. Though you’re mostly covered with the sheets, the underwear that is very clearly not on your body and the way the sheets drape over your head as you lay between his knees tell a very convincing lie.

“I think I just caught that stomach bug.” Yoori says lightly, still smiling. Hoseok peers behind her, looking mildly interested.

“I hate it when I remember they have sex with eachother,” Taehyung buries his face in his friend’s shoulder looking mortified as Yoori slowly closes the door.

“Yeah, it’s kind of like walking in on your aunt and uncle doing it. But, like, 12 times worse.”

Jungkook basks in the new silence for a few moments before it’s replaced with the rustle of sheets.

“What are you doing” he trails off to a whisper as you tug the waistband of his underwear down. Your hands still.

“You don’t want to have boat sex?”

“No, no, I do. I wanna have boat sex.”

He nods intensely and you laugh at how earnest he still is. Jungkook’s cheeks flare up, now doubly red from quiet excitement.

“Guess I should have just proposed this, huh?”

“Yeah,” you hum thoughtfully while moving on your knees to straddle his hips. “I can't see how this would have ruined anyone’s fun.”

“I can think of a couple people’s fun we just ruined.”

“I really meant my fun. Speaking of which,” you settle onto his lap and begin to grind.

He shudders, head falling forward with a sigh. This, he thinks, is the real happiest place on earth.

[chocosvt]

connect universe

⚬ pairing: cyborg!hansol x reader | future!au ⚬ word count: 4315 ⚬ warnings: alcohol consumption, violence ⚬ genres: angst, heavy fluff, elements of a futuristic/dystopian society.

✧✎ synopsis: hansol’s first time at an underground party isn’t what you expect it to be. you want to acquaint him with what it’s like to live normally, but the fabric of his past continues to control him.

✧✎ a/n: this is a side story to connect! i recommend you read the original fic first if you haven’t already (link is here) i rly luv this universe and i didn’t want to just stow it away!! i’ll expand on it more in the future (pun whoops)

You didn’t understand how anyone could look at Hansol and interpret him as someone malignant, someone evil. He was anything but a menace, and during the progression of your relationship you came to realize that his gentle nature was often a curse rather than a blessing. It brought you to ache, because he let people walk over him. Hansol had become so accustomed to brutal temperament that he rarely even lifted his finger to those who refused him and belittled him and reduced him to his bionic parts.

The worst part was, Hansol hated when you defended him. He would crinkle into himself like he’d just heard an ear-piercing scream and then grasp onto your wrist, shaking it, begging you to drop the argument because it was worthless. Even if you didn’t see it that way, his pleading was so genuine and desperate that you had no choice but to swallow the bullet on your tongue. Nonetheless, you practiced everything in your power to make him feel love, to understand love, that it wasn’t some weapon of faked promises but the deepest sentiment you had ever felt. “I know what love is because I have you, Hansol.”

When he first moved in with you, he experienced many nightmares, in which he’d slam awake in bed with his fists crumpling at the sheets, every circuit beneath his skin thundering in a bright, icy blue. His right leg would be jittering so quickly that you feared its bionics might burn out. But Hansol never dreamed of his chiefly horrendous past when you held him in your arms. And so every night you would press his head to your chest, feeling him squeeze around your waist while you stroked through the soft fibres of his hair until he fell asleep. Hansol thought he understood love a little more when you did that.

He was learning news joys and pleasures that he’d been reprieved of while contained in the laboratories.  One evening you found a stray kitten stumbling around through some newspapers in an alley, and brought her home to clean up. But what was most shocking was when you placed the kitten in the sink.

Hansol peered over your shoulder, his eyes violet and beaming lowly. “What is that?” He then asked, flinching slightly when the kitten opened its tiny mouth to squeak.

It was an unprecedented type of astounding. How could Hansol not know what a kitten is? However, the more you spoke with Yoojung’s father (responsible for fixing much of the cyborg’s faulty wiring and circuits) you realized Hansol didn’t know much about being a person. What he did know was fear.

“That’s what happens when you grow up in a lab with a bunch of Metal Surgeons and Circuit Technicians. You never were a person, and you’re not yet a cyborg either. You’re an experiment.” He told you.

And with those chilling words chiseled to the underside of your flesh, you adapted an extra attentive level of care when it came to Hansol. You taught him how to handle the kitten without accidentally crushing it in his iron-reflexes, how to brush her fur and tease her with a small toy and give her baths once she’d roll around in the garden. After coming home from a tiresome day at work, almost nothing else could match the happiness you felt upon seeing Hansol asleep on the couch, the kitten curled in a fluffy ball against his chest. She liked to mush her face against his bicep whenever he cradled her in his firm arms.

“He’s so gentle,” you expressed to Yoojung’s father, “he won’t even kill a spider.”

The man flipped up his welding helmet. He gave you a stern look, as though you should know to speak better, and suddenly there was this sickly pounding of your heart.

“The boy is gentle, and you’re not incorrect to think that. But don’t curse yourself by being naïve. He has that switch in him.”

“So does everyone.” You had countered, a shiver tickling down your neck.

“Not everyone is designed the way he is,” Yoojung’s father reasoned, setting down his torch, “no matter what, Hansol is not entirely human. He is devoid of feeling many emotions to their fullest extent. You can associate sunshine on a rainy day with happiness, but that doesn’t mean happiness is what you feel. A  cyborg knows merely the word, not its sensation. I want you to think safe. Hansol knew anger and violence in that laboratory before he knew compassion. It’s wired into his mechanics.”

That day, you left the garage with Hansol as this enormous lump sat in your throat. You examined the chronicles of your relationship.

Not once had the boy ever gotten angry or displayed contempt. Even when your kitten gave Hansol his first scratch, he recoiled in sadness, confusion, rather than an immediate instinct to be forceful. He asked you what he did wrong, and you had to hug him tighter than ever before while he teared up, because he genuinely didn’t comprehend that it wasn’t his fault, that the kitten just didn’t want to be held at that time. You thought about when Hansol kissed you, how he’d always guide you to lay on your back, just his fingertips rubbing softly against your waist because he was so afraid that you might not want him closer. Of course, you always did, to which he would emanate pink at your encouragement.

“If there ever comes a time when you need to deescalate Hansol, I suggest you pin-jack him.” Yoojung’s father had cautioned just before you left the garage.

“Pin-jack?” You questioned. “What’s that?”

He searched his toolbox and picked up a screwdriver with a flat tip. “Anything that can be inserted into the sensory slot at the back of his neck. If you manage to touch his chip, it’ll momentarily reset his data board. He might be delirious coming to, so you must be careful.”

Pin-jack, you scoffed inside your head as you walked home with Hansol, I’ll never have to do that.

“I think we’re getting close. Yoojung said the portal should be under the Interstitial Bridge.”

Hansol followed you, trusting your judgement as you gleaned the instructions Yoojung had earlier sent in a text message. It was difficult to differentiate much in the nighttime, especially when the Interstitial Bridge was located more toward the outskirts of the Nexus. There was hardly any luminosity apart from the moon and the few blue lightning bugs that sparked between the dark seams. Furthermore, it was difficult for Hansol to understand much of your words when the floodgate had been opened, for the concrete trough that was usually dry and empty was now gushing with contaminated city water.

Just up ahead, you could detect the silhouette of the bridge.

The portal must be under it. You knew it was wise to act quickly considering the portal’s location switched every hour, a simple safety precaution in order to spurn the Stargazers. They always attempted to shut down much of the inconspicuous activity that took place outside the eyes of the Nexus. You were anxious, but excited to say the least. This would be Hansol’s first time attending an underground party. It was extremely difficult to receive an invitation let alone successfully pinpoint an entrance portal unless the host themselves gave you the instructions on how to discover it. Yoojung managed to secure herself an invite, and extended the text containing the portal’s location to you and Hansol.

“I think I see it!” You squeaked triumphantly and grabbed onto Hansol’s hand.

Together, you ran beneath the bridge. Embedded into the misty stone was an oval-shaped hole, outlined in a glowing hue of amethyst. The black centre of the portal seemed to ripple and convulse, and every so often there would be an orange flicker against the blackness. You weren’t sure how Hansol was going to respond to such an environment: loud music, dim, flashy lights, the suffocating closeness of unfamiliar bodies, air that constantly grew thicker with humidity, it definitely wasn’t to everyone’s liking. But you figured Hansol would appreciate your offer rather than insisting he stay boxed into your home, unable to experience anything which may help move him from his self-loathing.

“Have you ever been through a portal before?” You asked him.

Hansol shook his head. “No, never.”

There was a faint shimmer of worry in his eyes. You smoothed a hand down his neck and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his mouth, hoping to reassure him.

“I’m not going to let go of your hand, okay? I promise.”

You stepped into the portal first. It was much like shifting through quicksand, for it was something smooth yet heavy, and the further you pushed into the blackness the colder it felt. Eventually, the portal filled with a blinding white light that swallowed around you, yet you squeezed your eyes shut and persisted, your fingers still interlaced with Hansol’s. No more than a second later did you sense the brightness dissipate, and when you opened your eyes, you were met with the vivacious party. You had emerged underneath a metal staircase, to which there was the loud clattering of heels and shoes walking up and down. When you looked at Hansol, he appeared a bit disoriented, but smiled nonetheless.

“Let’s go find Yoojung.” You whispered into his ear.

The atmosphere was quite intense for Hansol. It seemed as though his mechanics were spinning on overdrive, attempting to process such an influx of sound and warm bodies and scents. He stuck close to you as best he could. He was able to relax upon reuniting with Yoojung, for your touches to his arm weren’t met with rigidity and he even accepted a pineapple cocktail from a whirring hover-disk.

Though that didn’t signify he was completely subdue. A few people had managed to note the code tattooed just in front of Hansol’s ear, and while no one pitched a concerning comment, you could tell the boy had felt uneasy from their blatant, often unconscious stares, how they probed every inch of his body attempting to discover all his bionic scarring and accessories. You tended to pull him away and keep him distracted by the other means pertaining to nightlife and underground partying. For a little while you danced undisturbed, which allowed you to discover Hansol’s great sense of rhythm as he twirled you around and guided your hips and swooped you in close against his chest.

“Are you having fun, Sollie?” You murmured, holding onto his shoulders.

He pressed his forehead to yours, kissed you with a zealous edge of roughness and a smirk. You took that as confirmation, and you danced until it became hard to breathe.

But then trouble seemed to take shape in a form you least expected: Changkyun.

Once you and Hansol rediscovered Yoojung near the bar where she had been sipping a brilliant, lime green beverage, you sensed a pair of fingertips slide up your back and turned around uncomfortably. Your expression quickly morphed into shock when you were greeted by Changkyun’s dreary, smiling face, a heavy stench of alcohol radiating from his clothing. You hadn’t been on the best terms with Changkyun. He was never able to adjust to your breakup very well, and there was a reason Yoojung had also begun to distance herself from him. He smiled at you, mumbled something you didn’t quite catch.

“Changkyun,” Yoojung cautioned, setting down her drink, “I think you should clean yourself up a bit and head home. Minghao can open a portal for you.”

He ignored her. Instead, his foggy gaze was allured to you. “So, I take it you’re still w’Hansol?” He slurred despite the boy standing right next to you.

You didn’t answer his question, repeating, “I think you should go.”

“If I had known you’d throw our whole relationship away just to end up w’someone whose half-metal,” Changkyun scoffed, “I never would’ve dated you.”

Hansol stiffened at your side, his eyes wide.

“Changkyun,” Yoojung snapped, “you need to go. Now.”

“What?” The boy persisted defensively, as though he were innocent, with not one inkling as to why he was being dealt this cold treatment. Changkyun approached Hansol and gave him a slight shove against his shoulders. “How come you’ve got nothing to say Bionic Brain? Did you short circuit?”

Something flickered in Hansol’s eyes, and yet he still didn’t crack, rather he merely swallowed and furrowed his brow. It boggled you that Hansol was able to control his temperament, because you were certainly fuming. You stepped in between them and tried maneuvering Changkyun to the side. He stumbled a bit since his coordination had been utterly shredded by the copious alcohol in his system, though his glare never separated from Hansol. Right when you believed the situation was deescalating, you sighed in relief and exchanged a tiresome glance with Yoojung; however, Changkyun had managed to once again press himself right next to the boy and your heart dropped.

“Y’know what they say,” Changkyun hissed between his teeth, “they made you a cyborg because you never would’ve been good enough as a human.”

And with that, Changkyun gave a rough bump to Hansol’s shoulder. The only difference was that he lost his opportunity to walk away unscathed. This shroud of fear gripped onto you tight, rendered you paralyzed, unable to even wriggle a finger as the indifferent light in Hansol’s eyes had been demolished. Instead, his gaze was blazing. It burst into a bloodied shade of red that you had never seen before. The usually invisible circuits lining his neck and cheek started to glow in the same colour, and as Hansol curled his fingers through the collar of Changkyun’s shirt, pinning him hard against the edge of the bar, you saw that the wires in his right forearm were transmitting signals at tenfold their regular speed.

“What did you just fucking say?” Hansol growled, though you could hardly recognize his voice. It had a metallic, almost vibrational undertone. It was sharper, completely stripped of its soft grit, rife with vitriol.

Changkyun squirmed helplessly, like fresh prey caught between its predator’s jaws. Not even Yoojung was able to move, for she was in the same boat as you, unbeknownst to Hansol’s aggression and the seething hatred that he maintained for Changkyun in his eyes. Somehow, you managed to snap from your trance when Changkyun tried to knock Hansol with a punch, though the cyborg easily grasped his wrist and began twisting his entire arm. You grabbed onto Hansol, attempting to push him away, battering against his side in desperation, begging him to stop with panicked tears glued against your cheeks.

Your ex-boyfriend released a horrible cry, as though Hansol were going to break his bone. No matter what you did, Hansol’s strength was akin to steel, it was unparalleled.

It forced you to confront your only option.

Digging into your pocket you retrieved a small nail file. You didn’t allow yourself to think, rather you braced a hand against the back of Hansol’s neck and dug the nail file deep into his sensory slot, as far as the blunt metal could reach until it touched his chip and there was a blipping spark. Yoojung gasped as the colour suddenly melted from Hansol’s gaze. Every circuit beneath his synthetic flesh dimmed and his arms dropped rather lifelessly to his sides. Changkyun didn’t hesitate. He scrambled his way out from underneath Hansol, his chest heaving, sweat glistening on his temples and fear engrained into his face.

It wasn’t until you pushed against Hansol’s neck in order to withdraw the nail file that you realized how terribly you were shaking. The boy’s grey eyes flickered, and you knew he was going to reboot.

“We need to get him out of here,” Yoojung said, wrapping an arm around his waist, “it’s not good for his database to restart in a setting like this.”

Dropping the nail file on the floor, the tears still wet against your cheeks, you assisted Yoojung in helping Hansol walk. Changkyun had disappeared into the shadows.

Yoojung was able to discover Minghao on the balcony that overlooked the dance floor. It was troublesome guiding Hansol up the staircase since his delirium was so thick. He kept mumbling these indiscernible fragments while odd clicks and beeps reverberated from inside his body. You could feel how hot the metal beneath his skin had become, for even just brushing against his forearm was akin to ghosting an iron skillet. Minghao was the party host, and he had been the one to rearrange the portal. Yet, he didn’t seem eager to reopen another gateway so abruptly.

“It’s dangerous,” he began, his black, smooth suit shining against the lights, “the Stargazers have been breathing down my neck ever since my last terra. I’m a sliver away from getting put back in the Void.”

“I know,” Yoojung huffed, adjusting her grip around Hansol’s waist, “I swear, you can set a time limit on the portal for just a minute. That’s all we need to get him out safe.”

With the long, dark fringe shielding Minghao’s eyes, it was impossible to decipher his thinking. However, you did note his foot tapping against the floor. You didn’t know much about Minghao, apart from the fact he lived sumptuously and had managed to become one of the most suspicious citizens within the Nexus. Yoojung said he would be empathetic. Apparently, Minghao sustained irreparable damage to his left eye while being contained in the Void and her father had to fabricate a robotic replacement.

At last, Minghao sighed, running a hand down his face. “Alright, alright, I’ll open one.” He pulled up the sleeve of his suit. “But—you better get in and get the fuck out. I’m not going back there.”

Locked around the boy’s wrist was a silver titanium band. When he pressed his thumb against a slight groove, a series of amber dots gradually lit up around the bracelet.

“Command: open exit portal at sector D4-East, Z-Underground,” Minghao spoke so naturally, as though he knew the coordinates like the back of his palm, “Command: release at sector B2-West, Z-positive, BR-ITS. Time limit is one minute, zero seconds. Force shutdown.”

Minghao then shone his bracelet at the wall, where an amber beam pierced against the brick and opened an exit portal. Yoojung thanked him at least four times, to which he simply nodded and wished you luck with managing Hansol home safely. You pushed through the portal, sensing the coldness unforgivingly squeeze around you.

You sat on your bed, plucking at the tassels of a pillow in your lap. It was almost three in the morning and this sickness had been harbouring in your lower-tummy ever since the dispute at the bar. A shiver traced like the point of a knife down your spine as you kept visualizing that striking redness in Hansol’s gaze, a redness so harrowing and tinged with rage that you hugged the pillow to your chest for measly comfort.

But you knew it wasn’t just anger: pain, betrayal, the exhaustion of having to lace one’s own wounds while knowing they were going to split wide open again, these sentiments too flashed in that redness. A tear rolled down your cheek and splashed onto the pillow.

Yet there was a timid knock on your door, and you quickly wiped your face. Hansol entered your room. He had been laying on your couch ever since he returned home, allowing his mechanics to completely reconnect with his sensory chip. When he sat uncertainly on the edge of your bed, his right knee was already bouncing and there was a pale blue colouring his eyes.

“Are you feeling better?” You hummed, tracing the pillow’s embroidery.

Hansol nodded, looking at you peripherally. “I’m fine.”

There was an unmistaken coarseness to your voice. It was taking all your strength to not erupt into tears like you had done at the party. The feeling of digging that nail file into Hansol’s neck, jamming it so hard into his slot that his chip had sparked and this lifeless aura overwhelmed him, it made you nauseous.

You sniffled, squeezing the pillow tighter. “H-Hansol,” he turned to you with such a concerned countenance that your chest ached, “I’m sorry for pin-jacking you. I’m really sorry.”

The manner in which your tone warbled was heartbreaking. Hansol shook his head. He etched closer to you and extended his hand toward your knee, but his touch immediately withered away the second you flinched ever so slightly. Hansol felt like he’d burned himself.

“No,” he pleaded, “no, no, no. Don’t be sorry. I’m not mad at you. I could never be.” The ice in his eyes had seldom shone this brightly, and it only seemed to disturb more emotions inside you.

Hansol peered into his lap, then licked his lips and murmured in a shaky voice, “are you afraid of me?”

The question stunned you as though it were a daunting flash of light. Consequently, your mind had become hazy, and you struggled to articulate the words that could capture your every feeling. Hansol spoke up again, to which his right leg had finally stopped bouncing.

“I would never hurt you.” He met your gaze with utmost clarity. “I-I can’t promise that I won’t hurt other people… Just… I would never hurt you, ever.”

Your fingertips curled far into the pillow and you could almost hear the blood pumping in your own veins. There was no doubt he was speaking truthfully. You knew Hansol wouldn’t harm you.

“If I had never used my nail file,” you gulped heavily and held eye contact, “would you have done it? Would you have broken his arm?” Somehow, you already suspected the answer.

Hansol nodded. “I wish I could tell you the answer that would make you happy, but I can’t lie to you. I know that makes you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

Tossing the pillow aside, you sat up straight and shook your head. “It’s not about me, Hansol,” you relayed with urgence, “everything about this night is a lot to process. I don’t know anything about your anger, or what being a cyborg entails. But what I know is that you’re hurting. You keep this darkness inside and you shouldn’t.”

“Because if I don’t people will get hurt!” He exclaimed, clenching his fists while the circuits beneath his forearm and cheek illuminated with lurid colour. “That switch is part of me. They designed me to have it and I can’t rid myself of it! ”

You were fortunate to have not one experience with the laboratories. And yet, Hansol had been tainted since he was a child. He experienced the forefront of their cruelty and their invasive experimenting. He was altered and tapered and tested on. Rinse, repeat. Rinse, repeat. Hansol was open about many things exempt from his time at the facilities. His journal was the precious tool that captured his every secret.

The boy then gripped onto his right knee, which started trembling once more, his eyes tenuously flickering into a rose shade. “Whenever I feel like I’m slipping… I think about you, and my anger goes away. But that club—it was so loud, so many distractions, so many people and conversations. My sensors haven’t been overwhelmed like that in ages.”

You leaned forward with a great exhale, your hand curling around the boy’s inner thigh to comfortingly squeeze. “Baby, if it was too much, then you should have said something to me.” Cupping his cheek and turning his head toward you, his eyes were rather glossy.

“I wanted to try it,” Hansol huffed, “I just want to be with you, and do things you like.”

Tracing your thumb below his eye, you couldn’t help but sigh again. For someone with an impressive installment of metal components, his heart couldn’t be any more tender than it already was. You swore that if you poked it, your finger might sink right through as though you touched something impossibly soft and squishy. A shy smile gradually danced to the corners of his mouth as you kissed him once, then twice, then wrapped your arms around his neck and suckled the remaining flavour of sweet pineapple from his tongue. You pressed your forehead against his, studying his face with such ardour.

“We can do things you like too, y’know.”

Hansol sniffled. “I like playing with Ppomo.”

Only a moment later, and your kitten was slipping between the thin gap in the doorway. She leapt onto the bed and mewled in her high-pitched tone, most likely imploring for someone to scratch the black and cream fur behind her ear. Ppomo’s favourite place seemed to be Hansol’s lap (you’d have to agree with her on that one) for she curled up in a small ball while he drew a gentle hand along her back. Resting your head against Hansol’s shoulder, you joined him in the petting until she fell asleep.

You thought about what Yoojung’s dad had drawled on that particular day you visited his garage, hoping to get some of Hansol’s mechanisms tweaked: a cyborg knows merely the word, not its sensation.

But you didn’t think that was necessarily true. Instead, you believed it was more accurate to say that Hansol could pinpoint many sensations, he just didn’t know what they were. He learned it was love when you held him and kissed him, happiness when he made Ppomo purr, excitement when he twirled your body in a breathtaking circle before pulling you into his chest on the dancefloor.

And you intended to teach him the name of every sensation that allowed him to feel so wonderful.

✧✎ a/n: awhile ago i answered an ask abt my expansion of the connect universe so if that lovely human reads this, i hope you liked it!! i’m not really sure where these fics into hansol’s attempts at human life will take me. 

maybe i will write an entire fic that details his time at the laboratory... i’m not sure yet!! in the mean time i’m trying to write this mingyu summer fic which i wanted to write last year, but ya... dreams crushed didn’t happen :_) ANYWAYS I HOPE U LOVE CYBORG!SOL AS MUCH AS ME he just wants to pet his kitten!!!!

[serensho]

Hey Juliet

A/N: This is so late but here it is @theevetoyouradam. I am so sorry that this is like a year late but here it is luv! Remember to hydrate and eat something if you haven’t as well hunnies. I decided to make this a Peter Parker fic too, since I don’t feel comfortable writing for irl people and this isn’t rlly canon or taking place in a specific movie timeline or anything so yeah :).

“Are you kidding me?”

“Oh my god, who knew Parker got hot, huh.”

“Wow.”

Y/N heard a few of these remarks as she ran past a few of the girls in her gym class. Today was a fitness day and it was so humid and hot in the gym that almost everyone was sweating, even if they weren’t trying to. Peter Parker wiped the sweat off of his brow with his gym shirt, showing off his chiseled six pack. He had to know what he was doing right? There was no way he did that and didn’t want to be noticed.

Peter was at one of the fitness stations with Ned who rolled his eyes at him.

“Are you serious right now?” Ned asked.

Peter frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You may as well just go up to Y/N and say,’Please notice me because I have a six pack and a nice ass!’“

Peter shoved Ned playfully. He had had a crush on you since the beginning of the school year, but it was hard to talk to you since you didn’t have a lot of classes together. Gym had to have been the class you two did share and it was one of the worst classes to have with your crush. He watched as you ran another lap as you chatted with a friend by your side. 

Soft hair swaying as you wiped your forehead, reddened cheeks, and a sweet smile on your face as you listened to whatever your friend was telling you. Captivating eyes as you met his gaze with a curious glance. Did you have any idea what you were doing to him? 

“He’s pretty cute right?” your friend remarked.

“Yeah. I mean, I care more about his personality though. He’s so sweet and he really likes Star Wars.”

“That is so nerdy, Y/N!” your friend laughed as you passed Peter.

After gym class ended you and Peter crossed paths right before lunch. Peter knew he had to say something to you before he lost his chance.

“I heard you and your friend talking about me.” 

You offered him a coy smile.

“Oh yeah?”

“U-Uh yeah. I just wanted to tell you, um... I think you’re cute too!” Peter blurted out. “U-Unless you said something else about me. Or if you don’t like those compliments I-”

You giggled. God, Peter would let himself get beat up by bad guys any day to hear your melodious laugh just one more time.

“Thanks, Pete. You know, I’m not busy after school today if you’d wanna hang out or something.”

“Yeah! Yeah that’d be nice.”

You got up on your tippy toes and gave him a quick peck on his cheek.

“I’ll meet you at your locker. Later, Peter,” you said as Peter watched your hips sway as you walked away from him.

Peter put a hand on the spot where you had kissed him. His face turned firetruck red as he walked as fast as possible to tell Ned what had just happened. 

A/N: A lil rushed, but I think this was a cute piece to get me back into it. Send me messages and request loves! I promise I’ll do them asap and I’m beginning to get more active on here so :).

[when-they-write-stuff]

Since you posted that prompts list 🙃🙃🙃🙃 85. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?” “I’m not jealous.” I neeeeeeed some jelly Derek, luv ya

The first time Stiles went to The Jungle, he’d been a scrawny, pale, sexually-confused teenager. Stiles was pretty sure he’d blundered in and made a complete fool of himself, but that had seemed to be his MO when he was younger. 

When he was younger, Stiles was an idiot. He wouldn’t even attempt to deny that.

But Stiles was a solid nineteen-years-old now and although he never would have seen himself staying in Beacon Hills after high school, he could always follow Scott’s example and claim it to be ‘werewolf stuff.’ Even if he wasn’t a werewolf. Even though he probably could have turned his back on it all whenever he wanted without anyone ever giving him too hard of a time.

But then Stiles could also say Derek had made him stay. Derek Hale and his red eyes. Derek Hale and his grumpy growls that Stiles was totally not head of heels for, thank you very much.

He could even say it was his father, even though Stiles was pretty sure his dad would love to see him a couple thousand miles from this Hellmouth. The point is, Stiles could make up a lot of excuses. But where had he been again?

Oh yeah. His newly understood sexuality and the local Beacon Hills gay club.

Stiles hadn’t planned on going out, he really hadn’t. But then Scott was busy with Allison, Lydia was busy being a genius in another state, and Stiles was pretty sure Derek was kicking his betas asses during their Friday night training. 

Which, uh, no thanks. He didn’t care that Derek offered out the loft to whoever wanted to crash there, Stiles had better things to do than watch shirtless werewolves run around and get beaten up by a man twice their size and much more dangerous to Stiles’s certain… lower regions.

So, when a smirking Jackson had offered an invitation out, did Stiles really have anything better to do? Other than chill in his dorm room that is, wondering when Scott would end up coming back before the night ended. But part of him knew that probably wouldn’t happen until tomorrow. Or, if Stiles was really unlucky, he’d be alone all the way until the weekend ended.

But still, some part of his brain said; it was Jackson. And a couple of years ago, Stiles would have very impolitely said ‘fuck you’, thank you very much.

But this wasn’t a few years ago. And Stiles could agree now that yeah, Jackson wasn’t the complete douchebag that he used to be. And when he was actually tolerating Stiles’s presence, they sometimes got along. 

Sometimes. Stiles was hoping tonight would be one of those nights.

Because he was bored, dammit.

The last time he’d been clubbing was— when was the last time he’d been clubbing? It seemed like the pack was sidetracked every other day with the new monster of the week and Stiles never had any time to himself anymore. He sorely regretted telling Derek his dorm number because the Alpha showed up multiple times each week now, scaring the shit out of Stiles’s floor every time.

His RA wouldn’t even talk to him anymore. But could Stiles really blame the guy? Joe had come by the dorm room once and Derek had nearly gone feral Alpha werewolf on the poor guy.

If Stiles thought about it, Derek tended to nearly go feral Alpha werewolf on anyone that dared get too close to him. But yeah, Stiles didn’t really spend too much thinking about it. Mostly because somehow, Derek had managed to keep the exciting parts of Stiles’s life dry both inside and outside of pack life.

It was like he was werewolf married or something. Just without the perks.

Married to the pack, maybe?

“Hey, Stilinski, where the hell is your head at tonight?”

Stiles snapped out of his thoughts and gave Jackson a startled look. The beta was sitting in his desk chair and scowling, all decked out to be hitting the club. Stiles didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, but his Chemistry book was still open in his lap and he was pretty sure he didn’t remember letting Jackson into his room.

Stiles stared at him for another long moment. Jackson scowled and waved a hand through the air.

“Uh, Stilinski? Earth to the idiot?

“Shut up,” Stiles grumbled, slapping his book shut. He tossed it off of his bed and Jackson caught it with a curse, but there was a definite smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. Stiles all but fell off his bunk bed and stumbled toward the bathroom, grabbing the closest pile of clothes that he was pretty sure didn’t smell too terrible.

But then Jackson was there, eyes flashing blue as he yanked them away. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Are you serious, dude? Those are like, my cleanest clothes.”

“I know. That’s why I brought an outfit.”

Stiles scowled at the beta and considered denying him just to see how snarly Jackson could get before he gave him. But then, deciding to take the path of least resistance, Stiles took the clothes pushed into his arms and turned back toward the bathroom, stumbling inside. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d showered. But it was exams week with the end of the semester finally coming up and Stiles had been living off of Red Bull and ramen, dammit. He couldn’t be expected to be put together.

He really needed this night out.

By the time he came out all showered and dressed, Jackson gave him a sweeping look and then actually look satisfied. Stiles just flipped him the bird, grabbing his keys and wallet off his desk before heading out of his dorm room without waiting for the beta.

He wasn’t doing this for Jackson. But it might mess with Scott a little if he came back early and maybe Stiles was kind of hoping for that.

Or at least he could get so wasted that he’d forget the fact that he’d probably failed his Anthropology final two days ago. But the exam had been hard, okay? Stiles had studied; he had.

Jackson smacked him upside the head when they reached the jeep and told him to stop thinking so hard. Stiles just glared at the beta again.

The last time he’d been clubbing— the last time he’d been clubbing? Stiles was pretty sure it had been with Danny when he was newly eighteen, a few months before the teenager had hightailed it out of Beacon Hills and all the horrors that the town held.

If Stiles had been smart, he probably would’ve followed.

But Stiles wasn’t smart. Not in certain areas at certain times, at least. Which might have been how he was ducking into the local gay club at twelve o’clock on a Friday night, counting down the minutes until Jackson inevitably ditched him. 

Tonight took a little longer than usual. But by the time Stiles had been hanging around the bar counter for going on ten minutes, Jackson just gave him a disappointed look and ducked away.

Stiles shrugged and turned back to his rum and coke.

He didn’t say alone for long, though.

“Your friend told me to introduce myself,” a new voice said, not long after Stiles had worked his way through his second drink. And Stiles really should have expected this.

The guy dropped onto the stool at Stiles’s side and he raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways to take in the dark brown hair that came with a Jackson-approved chiseled face. Still, Stiles shot a glance across the dance floor to see Jackson give him a blue-eyed look, arms thrown around the neck of some other stranger.

Forcing himself not to sigh, Stiles turned back toward the guy.

He could look at him without envisioning dark stubble or grey-green eyes, which Stiles always considered a win. He’d never admit that out loud, but Derek had totally ruined standards for him. Except, Stiles wasn’t pining. Totally not.

He was not pining.

“My name’s Vic,” the guy said, offering out a hand. And of course, it was. Stiles could have survived this night with just a bit of drinking and maybe some wallowing in the bar nuts. But then again, Jackson might never invite him out again.

“I’m Stiles.”

“Your friend already told me.”

“Oh?” Stiles said, raising an eyebrow. “Is that all you’ve heard about me so far?”

“He said you like to dance.”

Sometimes, Stiles really hated Jackson. Had he been a stupid seventeen-year-old again, he totally would have thought this was a prank. But he didn’t need to glance over to see Jackson’s threatening looks, slowly letting himself get pulled up.

The bartender’s look was all too knowing. Stiles slapped a ten onto the counter and let himself get tugged out onto the dance floor.

Stiles wasn’t sure if he had the appropriate buzz for this yet. But then he was surrounded by sweaty bodies and the lights overhead were a little more than blinding. If Stiles concentrated hard enough, the music could be dulled to a thrumming in the background and Vic’s eyes almost seemed to reflect a little bit of green in the overhead lights. Stiles was pretty sure that was all in his own head though, because he was pretty sure the guy’s eyes had been dark brown earlier. But he was allowed to imagine a little, wasn’t he?

Then there were fingertips brushing over the back of his neck and Stiles glanced back to see Jackson. Sweat shone on his forehead and a wicked smirk played along his lips. The beta jerked his chin toward Vic and at some point between song one and song two, Stiles had gone from Jackson pressing up against his back to Vic grinding down against his front. 

Now, this was a much easier way of getting his brain to shut up, Stiles had to admit. With fingers tracing over the back of his neck, Vic dragged a hand through his hair and pulled Stiles toward the crook of his neck with his free hand. Stiles could completely forget about his possible failed exam or complete lack of a roommate right now.

Or Derek. Freaking Derek Hale.

Screw Derek Hale.

Like he could read his spinning thoughts, Vic’s hand tightened in his hair and guided Stiles’s lips up his neck and toward his own. And yeah, Stiles was no stranger to kissing. He’d gone a solid four months with Lydia before her college enrollment took her elsewhere. And he’d tried his hand at hook-ups once upon a time. Though, he’d never really made it past imagining what could be something else.

Something more.

But Stiles wasn’t a lovestruck girl, dammit.

Except then there were warm lips against his own, a tongue prodding into his mouth, and Stiles yanked sharply back. Vic gave him a slightly wounded look and Stiles would have mumbled a series of apologies if he remembered how to string words together. Instead, he just raised a hand and stumbled back, before turning around and fleeing the dance floor altogether.

And what had he been saying earlier? This was the night that he needed out. To get wasted, to forget about everything else.

But Stiles was just wanted to go back to his dark, empty dorm right now.

He thumbed out his phone and went scrawling for Jackson’s name, but then there was a sudden hand on the neckline of his t-shirt. Stiles squeaked as he was yanked sideways and shoved against the nearest wall. For a moment, panic crashed over him and Stiles jabbed his elbow out as hard as he could; but then the returned grunt of pain made him freeze.

“D- Derek?”

The Alpha was bent over a little, growling underneath his breath. Then red eyes snapped up and Stiles’s heart skipped a beat as he went to retreat back even more. Except there was nowhere else to go. The cement of the wall was at his back and Derek slowly straightened, red eyes searching Stiles up and down.

Then the man leaned forward, inhaling deep, and his fangs promptly slid down. Stiles yelped, clapping both hands over Derek’s face, and the man growled from behind them.

“Derek, dude, put those away! We’re in public!”

But Derek was sounding a bit like an actual wolf now, so Stiles just guided him toward the nearest exit, hands still covering Derek’s face. He shoved the door and the moment they were out in the night, Stiles yanked back like he’d been burned. Derek’s eyes were still bright red.

Stiles’s breaths hitched. He batted at Derek’s face, earning another growl. “Derek, you damn asshole. Put those away!”

“What the hell happened in there?”

For a moment, all Stiles could do was stare in confusion. But Derek looked a little bit peeved, a little bit frustrated, and a little bit… hurt? And slowly, the pieces slipped together.

Stiles huffed, despite the way his stomach flipped. “Dude, that’s so creepy, oh my god. Could you try not sniffing out all my recent activities for once? What the hell are you doing here anyway? I thought you trained the betas on Fridays?”

“I do,” Derek said gruffly. “That ended two hours ago. I went by your dorm but it was empty.”

“So you… came here?”

“I was worried.”

Stiles stared at him for a long moment. Then he chuckled and tried to flick at the man’s nose, but Derek just ducked away. Stiles blinked at him then, tilting his head. 

“Dude, what’s up?”

“You smell bad,” Derek said, eyes flickering. “You smell wrong.”

Okay, first of all, Stiles had taken a shower before he’d come here. And second of all— “That’s none your business, Sourwolf.”

Derek drew back, the red fading from his eyes. But instead of looking peeved, angry, or even a little unhappy, he just looked stricken. Like the very fact that Stiles was walking around smelling like someone else was physically painful to him.

And okay, but it wasn’t like Stiles always smelled like himself, alright? He was surrounded by strangers every day.

“Derek, dude, I really don’t know what you wan—”

“Stiles, please.”

Stiles froze, his stomach flipping again. But that seemed to be enough of an answer for Derek because he moved forward again. The man’s nose traced along his collarbone, scenting fingers danced along the back of his neck, and Derek pressed his entire face into the crook of Stiles’s neck as if it was a life or death situation.

Stiles just… well, he just froze. His brain was moving slowly and he knew for a fact that he hadn’t drunk enough to blame this all on the alcohol.

But then slowly, like puzzle pieces, one thing clicked with another. And then Stiles yanked back so hard, he smacked his head against the wall and bit his tongue in the process. Derek whined at the loss of contact, Stiles tasted blood, and then the man was giving him a hurt look. But Stiles’s brain was lingering on one thing right now. 

“Oh my god. You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

In a second, Derek’s stance was guarded. He started to draw back a few inches and the action looked physically painful. The man looked like he wanted to attack Stiles’s neck all over again, but instead, he just folded his arms over his chest and lowered his gaze. 

“I’m not jealous.”

“You are so totally jealous!”

Once more, the red eyes were snapping up and Stiles’s breaths stalled in his throat. Carefully, he stepped forward, uncrossing Derek’s arms, and the man whined again.

“Derek, what do I smell like?”

“Wrong.”

“Yes, but what do I smell like?”

“Not… mine.”

Derek was glaring at the ground again as he said those words. Stiles’s heartbeat stuttered and then Derek was growling. Stiles risked once more step closer. Derek searched his face, almost looking vulnerable.

“Stiles, don’t do this if it's not re—”

“Dude.”

Grey-green eyes flickered in and out of red as Derek clamped his mouth shut. Stiles could still hear the steady thrum of music from the club and the sound of voices from a little way down the alleyway. But he kept his gaze on Derek’s face, nodding carefully. 

"You can change that."

Then he was being crowded against the wall once more.

Stiles couldn’t help but squeak as sharp fangs moved up his neck. They nipped gently underneath his jaw and then traveled back down. But when Derek bit the spot between his shoulder and neck, it was all human teeth. Fingers traced over the back of Stiles’s neck again and Derek growled lightly, sucking marks all the way back up to the underside of Stiles’s chin.

He was so going to be swearing scarves for the rest of the week.

Or… maybe not.

Scott was probably going to flip out. Stiles might have grinned a little bit at that realization.

Then Stiles had lost all contact of the man and he totally didn’t whine at that. Derek moved back a few inches, studying his face, and then his eyes dropped to Stiles’s lips.

“Stiles, can I—”

“Oh my god, kiss me you furry asshole.”

And Jackson was never getting credit for this, ever. Stiles would like to say that he hadn’t come to the Jungle tonight expecting for Derek Hale of all people to show up. But if he’d know this is what would finally do it, he might have had come a long time again.

Derek kissed him softer than he had before. The hand cupping Stiles’s neck moved up to card through his hair and every time Stiles hummed in agreement at a movement, the man growled at the back of his throat. He tasted like mint, smelled like leather and pine, and Stiles totally hadn't imagined this before. He wasn’t a pining school girl, dammit.

But… but Derek kissed exactly like he’d always thought. Though that wasn’t a thing.

Except maybe it was now.

Stiles probably could have stayed there making out with Derek literal Hale all night except suddenly, the doors they ducked out of were banging open. Stiles yelped and pinwheeled back into the wall as Jackson came charging out, snarling and blue-eyed.

But one flash of Derek’s red eyes had the beta curling back into himself. His startled expression snapped from Derek, to Stiles, and back. Then Jackson drew himself up, a wicked smirk curling across his lips, and Stiles knew he was never living this down.

“Oh my god, Stilinski. You so totally owe me.”

“Jackson, get your furry little ass out of here or I swear to god—”

The beta didn’t need to be told twice, apparently. Whether it was from Stiles’s threats, Derek’s growling, or just his sense of self-preservation (did he have one?), because he only smirked one more time before backing away. And then Stiles’s heart skipped a beat as Derek glanced at him again.

And suddenly, he felt nervous. But why did he feel nervous?

“So, Sourwolf…”

“Is all of this okay, Stiles?”

Stiles stared at him for a long moment. Then he shook his head, moving forward and catching the man’s lips again. Because of course, he had to be in love with this idiot. Except... he kind of liked the way Derek growled at the sharp kiss. He kind of loved the way the man shivered against him and Stiles had caused that. 

Stiles nipped at his lower lip and then drew back with a grin. “I dunno, dude. Care to tell me what I smell like right now?”

Once more, sharp fangs skated down his neck and Derek Hale had totally ruined standards for Stiles. Now and forever. They paused against the bottom of his neck, warm breaths against his skin, and then Derek’s lips curved into a smile as Stiles whined.

“You smell like mine .”

And hell yeah, Stiles could totally be okay with that.

- -

I hope I did this prompt justice! I don't write jealous Derek very often so this was kind of new, but I had fun with it! Thank you so much for the prompt, Khale ma’am <3

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

[spicykoreantatertots]

Peach (Lobotomy) - Part One

Pairing: Hoseok x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Rating: G

Genres: SFW, Soulmate AU, College AU, F2L, Angst, Fluff

Summary:  In a world where there is no limit to the number of possible soulmate connections, you've become obsessed with figuring out what yours will be. While walking to class one day, you find a ring on the ground. A ring that will finally lead you to your soulmate.

Warnings: this is only part one! this is slightly angsty, but there is fluff. 

A/N: Proud to be part of the Luv Library Collab! This is the first part of my first soulmate fic. Part two will be coming before the end of the month. I may also do a NSFW one shot later this year. I’m excited to continue working on my soulmate series (one for each member). They are all based on songs by Waterparks, check out Peach (Lobotomy). Big shout out to @megahwn and @joonkookiemonster​ for beta reading, @namluve​ for this beautiful banner, and to @ho-baebae​ and @lovely-literati​ for always being supportive. Love y’all! 💜

~~~~~~~

You've seen it happen a million times before. When someone meets their soulmate for the first time, it’s like watching magic happen. It's just a moment, a spark, and then that person's entire life changes.

There are countless types of soulmate connections out there. From color blindness and red threads to timers and birthmarks. Some people can write to their soulmate and the words will appear on their skin, no matter how far away they are. Some people can hear the thoughts of their soulmate or taste what they're tasting. It's exciting, waiting to meet that person who is everything you need. The person made just for you.

But it's terrifying for those who don't have an obvious connection to their soulmate. It's terrifying for people like you. You weren't born with a special mark, you weren't born with colorblindness or someone else's thoughts in your head. There's no obvious way for you to connect with and find your soulmate, and it often keeps you up at night worrying.

Being the optimistic person and hopeless romantic that you are, you've done your best to stay positive. You know that there is someone out there, there's someone for everyone. So you've spent the first 21 years of your life keeping your eyes wide open. Waiting for the sign, the connection.

When you were in high school, you were sure that your connection must be eye contact. You walked around constantly looking people in the eyes, probably looking like a psychopath

The summer before college, you spent the summer abroad in Spain. Part of you hoped you would meet some rugged Spaniard, but the other part of you knew that your Spanish was mediocre at best. 

Freshman year of college you had a persistent craving for pickles and you were sure that had something to do with finding your soulmate. But then you met Hoseok and he helped you figure out that you were just dehydrated and you needed electrolytes.

You actually met Hoseok in line at the dining hall. Your request for an entire bowl of pickles on the side disgusted him. He followed you to a table, confronting you about your strange eating habits.

“An entire bowl of pickles? That’s disgusting.” Hoseok joked. 

“Well I’ve been craving them non-stop. Hopefully this is my soulmate connection.” You replied as you sat at the last open table, trying to avoid touching the various sticky spots on the table. 

“You hope? As you don’t know what your soulmate connection is?” Hoseok questioned, mouth full of french fries. 

“No, not for sure. I don’t have a mark or anything.” And as if he could sense your dejectedness, he cheerily followed up by telling you that he doesn’t have an obvious connection either. Of course your mind immediately goes to the possibility that he is, in fact, your soulmate.

It doesn’t help that he is gorgeous. Dark hair, chiseled jaw, bright smile hidden behind soft lips. Lips that you really really want to kiss. 

Unfortunately Hoseok isn’t your soulmate. The two of you spent almost everyday together for the semester and no connection ever presented itself. Eventually the urge to kiss him dissipated (for the most part) and you gained a really great friend. Every time you feel miserably alone, he’s there to comfort you. He's been there for every missed connection, every failed attempt to find your soulmate.

There are still days that you wake up with The Feeling. The feeling that tells you it’s finally the day you’ll find your soulmate. And today just so happens to be one of those days. When you woke up, you didn't feel tired. You were able to get up and out of bed and ready for class in time to stop to get coffee for you and Hoseok. 

The Feeling leaves you on edge. You keep your phone in your pocket instead of scrolling through your daily rotation of socials. Making sure to keep a small smile on your lips, you try to make eye contact with as many people as you can.

Surely people think you are a crazy person, but you won't miss an opportunity to meet your soulmate for the first time. Unfortunately, none of the customers in the coffee shop or the Baristas are your soulmates. But that's okay! There is still plenty of time left in the day.

"Today's the day Hobi! I can feel it." Hoseok is leaning up against his car in the parking lot waiting for you as usual. The two of you have the same math class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning. 

"Yeah I'm pretty sure you said that about last Wednesday too." Hoseok playfully nudges you as he accepts the coffee you've brought for him.

"Okay yes, but I feel REALLY good about today. Maybe I've just been missing him by a few minutes." 

"I wish you weren't so obsessed with this, Y/N." Hoseok pauses, adjusting the strap of his backpack. "You always end up disappointed and I hate seeing you upset."

"Wow thanks for believing in me." You turn away from him and continue down the sidewalk path, rapidly approaching the Mathematics Building.

"It's not that I don't believe in YOU, I just hate watching you obsess over this, can't you just enjoy life and let your soulmate come to you?"

"LET MY SOULMATE COME TO ME? Hoseok didn't you hear about the girl who WAITED for her soulmate to find her and ended up finding him in a COMA? I CAN'T RISK IT!"

"Y/N you can't assume the worst just becau..." And you don't hear the end of whatever Hoseok was going to say. Because in that moment you see something shiny on the ground a few feet in front of you.

You jog ahead of Hoseok, and you see a gold ring abandoned on the sidewalk. You bend to pick it up. Hoseok has now caught up with you. He's trying to get your attention, but all you can focus on in this moment is the ring. You have the same giddy feeling you always do. Butterflies flitting around in your stomach. It’s your soulmate's ring, you're sure of it. 

"What is it Y/N?" Hoseok leans over your shoulder to see the ring you're turning over in your fingers. It's a fairly simple gold ring. There is a simple design carved around it and an inscription inside it. Two initials. You can feel your heart swell, your pulse begins to race.

"It's my soulmate's ring Hobi. I knew today was going to be a good day." You can read the skepticism in his frown and knitted brow. He doesn’t refute you though, maybe he can sense the certainty you’re feeling.

“We’re gonna be late for class.” He huffs, continuing down the path at a pace you struggle to keep up with. 

~~~~~~~

The lecture on Inverse Trigonometric Functions does not hold your attention very long. All you can really do is turn the ring over in your fingers imagining the man that it belongs to. He’s probably got dark hair, tan skin, glasses. He probably looks so sexy in glasses.

“So I guess you’ll be borrowing my notes later then?” Hoseok whispers and motions toward your blank notebook. “Of course, you’ve got something more important to do than take notes, don’t you?” 

“Yeah I’ve got to track down my soulmate.” As soon as you finish the thought, reality begins to sink in. “Hobi?” You whisper back at him, shoulders slumping. “How am I going to find him?”

Hoseok sighs, settles himself back into the seat, and continues taking notes. Absentmindedly, you pick up your pen and begin doodling the initials “JW”. Your pen traces over the letters, darkening them with each stroke. 

“We’ll find him.” Hoseok places his hand over yours, stopping the obsessive movements of your pen. When he pulls his hand back you look up at him. He’s looking forward, jaw clenched. And you know that just like every other time, with every other potential soulmate, he’s determined to help you. 

~~~~~~~

Hoseok asked you to sleep on it, give yourself some time to process before beginning the process of finding the owner of the ring. 

It was a nice idea, sleeping on it. But in practice it proved to be very difficult. After tossing and turning for half an hour you began mentally designing a Found: Gold Ring flyer in your head and planned where to put them up around campus.

Now your mind has wandered elsewhere. You find yourself browsing social media, looking at the University’s page. Scrolling through the followers and stopping at every J and W you find. 

You: I'm never going to find him. [4:12am]

You: Do you know how many JWs there are in this city? [4:12am]

You: And what if he's not even on social media? [4:16am]

Hoseok: Everyone is on social media. [4:18am]

You: Oh no did I wake you? [4:18am]

Hoseok: Yes. Please tell me you have not been awake all night. [4:18am]

You: I have not been awake all night. [4:19am]

You: 😬 [4:19am]

Hoseok: I have an idea. [4:20am]

You: 👀 [4:20am]

Hoseok: I have a friend who works as a student assistant in the registrar's office, maybe he can help us. Let's meet at 8 instead of 8:45 [4:23am]

You: okay 🥺 [4:24am]

~~~~~~~

"What do you mean "no," Namjoon?" Hoseok is standing at the front of Namjoon's desk.

"Hoseok I am not breaking FERPA for any reason." The blonde boy leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. Government policy prevents him from sharing student’s personal information, but this is bigger than the government. It’s fate, the Universe, call it what you want, but it’s more important than FERPA. 

"Namjoon, I need to find my soulmate, I have to track him down!" You're about to start crying, peering around Hoseok. You had only seen Namjoon once before at a party, he was drunkenly debating the finer details of Platonism with a girl who was clearly only interested in taking him upstairs.

“If I were to give you a list of all the names and phone numbers of students that go to this University, I could be fined thousands of dollars!” He uncrosses his arms and hits his hand on the desk to emphasize his point. 

That’s when you notice the timer on his wrist. Counting down to the moment he meets his soulmate. 

“Namjoon, look at the timer on your wrist. You know exactly when you are going to meet your soulmate. But I have nothing.” He looks down at his wrist, the timer silently ticks closer to zero. “I have no timer, no mark, no connection except maybe this stupid ring.”

You tug at the ring you placed on a chain around your neck for safe keeping. It shines under the fluorescent lighting. Namjoon looks at the ring then back at your face. You’re sure it’s blotchy and red, but you hope that he understands how important this is. 

“Can you help us Joon?” Hoseok asks, pulling a small flash drive from his coat pocket. The only response is a deep sigh, but Namjoon grabs the flash drive and quickly downloads the data. 

“If anyone finds out about this, I’m going to say you hacked into my computer.” Namjoon says, stopping short of handing the drive back to Hoseok.

“I owe you one.” Hoseok winks before he grabs the drive out of Namjoon’s hand.

Hoseok heads out into the hallway and you follow closely behind him, turning back to mouth a ‘thank you’ at Namjoon who responds with a curt nod. 

~~~~~~~

After a trip to the library and $25 worth of printing, the two of you are holed up in your apartment.  Take-out, two bottles of wine, and 250 pages of student names and phone numbers are set out on the coffee table, an R&B album playing on the stereo. Hoseok watches as you flip through the large stack of pages on the coffee table.

“Wait why did you print every name?” Hoseok wonders while he picks at the remains of the food in his container.

“You said it would be easier to have a hard copy.” You huff, dropping the pages on the floor in front of you. Hoseok can feel the frustration radiating off of you. 

“Yes, but maybe we should have sorted out the Js and Ws before printing...” He sets down his food and motions for you to hand him the pile. 

Hoseok begins thumbing through the pages, wondering to himself how long it will take to narrow down the pool of potential soulmates. He locates the Ws and sets the rest of the pages aside. 

“Here, let’s just start here and see what we can find.” He says, splitting the smaller stack in two and handing you half. Hoseok begins reading through each name on the page, pausing only to highlight a name or take a drink from his wine glass. 

After about half an hour, Hoseok has highlighted two dozen names on his portion of the list. You're huddled over the pages, flicking the corners of it absent-midnedly. He can tell that you’ve lost steam, possibly from the two very full glasses of wine you’ve had tonight. 

“Are you almost finished?” Hoseok sets his pages down on the floor next to him and leans his head back against the couch behind him. 

“Oh yeah I finished, I just wanted to go back through to be sure.” You lean back from your hunched over position and lay flat against the floor. 

“I’ve got about two dozen names, how many did you get?” Hoseok yawns and rubs his eyes.

“I found thirty.” You manage through a yawn of your own. It’s barely 9:00pm, but the mundane task of finding matching initials mixed with bellies full of take out and wine makes for a couple of very sleepy friends. 

There’s got to be something he can do to reenergize the two of you. He knows you’re excited to find your soulmate. But after being by your side through so many failed attempts in the past few years, he can tell you’re starting to feel discouraged. 

“Get up.” Hoseok says, an idea brewing in his mind. You look up at him, eyes narrowed. “Come on.” Hoseok gets up and moves to put himself toe to toe with you. He reaches into his pocket for his phone and scrolls through his playlist. 

An upbeat song begins playing through the speakers and Hoseok extends his hands out to you. He can tell you’re fighting a grin and that makes his own smile double in size. You finally give in and grab hold of his hands. Hoseok quickly pulls you up off the ground and twirls you around before letting go. 

“I’m not doing this Hobi.” You stand still, covering your face with your hands while the beat of the song fills up your small apartment. Hoseok’s body is moving to the music. He’s always been a dancer, effortlessly contorting his body, hitting each beat perfectly in time. 

Hoseok knows you aren’t a good dancer, but he loves seeing you try. Loves watching you be silly. So he reaches for your hand once again and pulls you toward him. He uses his hands to guide you, gently shaking you to loosen up your joints. Your awkward movements make him laugh, but he’s happy to see you smiling again. Swaying along to the music with you, Hoseok feels good. The stress of the day melting away. 

He twirls you away from his body as the song is ending, but instead of letting go he tugs on your arm, silently asking you to twirl back into his arms. You’re giggling when you fall back into his arms. His face is only inches away from yours and for the first time in a long time he finds himself wanting to close the distance. 

When the two of you first met, he felt a pull to you. At first he had hoped that you were his soulmate. You were beautiful, funny, silly, and just what he had been looking for. There was no magic moment between you though. No signal that your connection to him was meant to be something more than friendship. 

Before he can think too much about how your lips still look so soft, you pull away from him. Hoseok pauses to catch his breath, shaking his head to clear out the thoughts. 

“Okay I do feel better.” You announce, moving to the kitchen to pop the second bottle of wine. Hoseok sits down on the couch, picking up his laptop. He logs onto Facebook, trying to occupy his mind by searching for the first guy on with the initials J W. “Alright, this is it.”

“What is it exactly?” Hoseok replies, distracted by a video of goats screaming to the tune of Taylor Swift’s latest single. 

“We’re about to find my soulmate Hobi!” Your beaming smile is almost enough to quell the unsettled feeling growing in his gut. 

“Right, right. Here goes nothing.” Hoseok types the name of the first guy on his list and begins scrolling through his available pictures. He is scrutinizing the stranger, his clothes, the way he poses for the pictures. Soulmate or not, is this guy really good enough for you?

“What should the game plan be?” You say, almost startling Hoseok. “Should we just do a quick round looking for the ring in the pictures?” 

“Yes let’s do that, and then we can go back through if we don’t find the ring on anyone.” Hoseok nods moving to the next name on his list, silently hoping that he isn’t the one either. 

~~~~~~~

It was very easy for you to get distracted looking at these potential soulmates. Of course, based on their social media profiles it was also pretty easy to rule some people out. Several of the men had their soulmate’s in the profile pictures. Some had visible soulmate marks or timers in their photos. But there were still a large number of men who could be the one. And you took your time sizing each one up. 

Jason Williams is clearly athletic, plays for the university soccer team, and recently ran a marathon. It’s good for him, but you hope he won’t mind you sitting on the sidelines of the next marathon rather than participating. 

Jaylen Williams has no photos available for viewing, but it only takes three seconds on his profile to realize that his views on feminism leave much to be desired. 

Jesse Williams is a nerd, to put it lightly. His profile picture is a loveable picture of him dressed as Spiderman at last year’s comic con. Many of his posts are related to the Marvel Universe and you can tell that he takes it very seriously. According to his profile, he is studying physics. 

Joshua Wilson seems nice. He’s playing guitar in his profile picture. His beanie and flannel shirt make you wonder if he considers himself a hipster. His latest post is about the inadequate coffee served at the local cafe and how he should just do it at home. Maybe he makes a good cup of coffee, you could get into that. 

James Wilt is handsome. He’s hair smoothed perfectly back, facial hair trimmed neatly. Just as you’re about to scroll down to look at his posts, Hoseok interrupts you.

“Y/N?” He says quietly. “I think I’ve got him.” Your heart jumps into your throat. Setting the laptop down on the coffee table, you scoot over to look at Hoseok’s screen.

Jackson Wang. He’s gorgeous. And he’s clearly wearing the ring. 

“Hobi...” You don’t really know what to say, but he seems to understand. He puts his arm around you and slides his laptop from his lap to yours. You begin scrolling through and seeing pictures of him surrounded by friends, they look like fraternity brothers. It’s not quite what you were expecting out of a soulmate, but as you continue looking through his profile you learn that you are actually quite compatible. 

He has a similar taste in music, loves his family, he’s on the university fencing team, and he might love cheese even more than you do. 

“I... I don’t want to be the one to say it, but all we know for sure is that it’s his ring.” Hoseok says sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, but he’s right. Just because you had a feeling about it doesn't guarantee that Jackson is your soulmate.

“There’s only one way to find out.” You say handing Hoseok’s laptop back to him. 

“Right.” Hoseok nods before tilting his head. “Wait what?” 

“I’ll send him a friend request and I’m going to message him. I’ll have to meet him in person.” You say as you begin typing out a message on your computer. 

“You are NOT going to meet him in person Y/N. He’s a total stranger!”

“Hoseok he could be my soulmate!” You pleaded. There’s a long silence stretching between you. Hoseok is thinking, scanning your face. He’s spent the day helping you track him down and now suddenly he’s so concerned about you meeting him?

“I’ll go with you.” He mutters followed by a sigh of defeat. He sinks back into the couch as you finish typing out your message to Jackson and attach an image of the ring.

You: Hey, are you missing your ring? I found one that looks like it outside the Mathematics building. [9:13pm]

“And now we wait.” You sigh as you hit the send button. The tension between you and Hoseok is still palpable, but you reach for the remote to turn on the television. Luckily for you, Hoseok’s favorite movie is playing on one of the channels and it doesn’t take long for the tension to relax into a comfortable silence.

~~~~~~~

Hoseok wakes to a ping on your phone. The two of you had fallen asleep on the couch during the movie. The TV screen is now dark, credits slowly rolling through. Your phone is shining brightly from it’s spot on the coffee table. 

Against his better judgement, Hoseok reaches for your phone.

Facebook: Jackson Wang has accepted your friend request. [11:46pm]

Facebook Messenger: Yeah wow! I’ve been missing it! [11:48pm]

Hoseok sets your phone back down and looks over at you. You’re fast asleep, head resting on the arm of the couch. It’s getting late.

“Y/N.” He whispers, nudging your foot with his own. You don’t stir, so he decides to get up and carry you to your bed. He carefully pulls back the throw blanket that covers you and hooks his arms under your body. The walk to your bed is short, but he trips over a pair of your shoes, almost dropping you. How are you still asleep?

When he reaches your bed, he sets you down gently and pulls your quilt over your shoulders. He gazes down at you. Once again feeling the pull to your lips. He leans down, brushes a few stray hairs off of your forehead and lightly brushes his lips against the skin of your forehead.

A warm sensation, tingling in his lips, a shiver down his spine. Hoseok pulls away, wide eyes staring down at you. But you don’t wake up. Though he would swear that he saw a smile pulling at your lips as he slowly backed out of the room.

~~~~~~~

As you slept you dreamed about meeting your soulmate. The warm feeling radiated throughout your body, all was right in the world. And when you wake you are happy to see a response from Jackson.

Jackson: Yeah wow! I’ve been missing it! [11:48pm]

You: Okay, wanna grab coffee and I can give it to you then? [9:23am]

Jackson: Haha, sounds great. Maybe tomorrow around 10? [9:56am]

You: That’s perfect, you know The Bean just north of campus? [9:59am]

Jackson: Yes I love that place. [10:01am]

You: Okay great! [10:01am]

You: Kind of a random question... [10:17am]

Jackson: Shoot [10:23am]

You: Do you know what your soulmate connection is? [10:24am]

You: I’m only asking because I don’t know mine. [10:27am]

You: And I thought maybe... [10:27am]

Jackson: Do you think you finding my ring could be... our connection? [10:30am]

You: I had a really good feeling about it when I found it. [10:31am]

Jackson: I don’t know mine, so maybe this is it... [10:34am]

You: I guess we’ll find out tomorrow, right? [10:35am]

Jackson: It’s a date. [10:39am]

~~~~~~~

The Bean is bustling today. Lots of people in and out, dozens of students working on projects and papers, so Hoseok has to sit a few tables away from you. The smell of the freshly ground beans 

“I won’t be able to hear you that well.” He shouts across the cafe. 

You’re too nervous to respond with something other than a shrug of your shoulders. Fiddling with the hem of your dress, you watch the door carefully waiting for him to walk in. The latte in front of you is still steaming, too hot to drink. 

The bell above the door chimes, ringing out over the chatter that fills the coffee shop. And there he is. Jackson Wang. Walking toward you with a self-assured smile. 

“Hi.” You mumbled, standing from your seat to greet him. He’s glowing in front of you, he’s all you can see. Jackson opens his arms you fit perfectly in them. You can feel butterflies in your stomach. It’s not as strong as you expected the soulmate bond to be, but it’s there. 

“I guess this is yours.” You tug lightly on the ring you’ve been wearing around your neck. 

“Well maybe you should wear it for a little longer.” Jackson replies, motioning for you to have a seat. “If we’re soulmates, that is?”

“Did you feel it too?” You ask shyly, tucking your hair back behind your ear. Jackson nods and reaches out to grab your hand across the table. The Feeling is here, just like it was when you picked up the ring, and you never want it to go away.

~~~~~~~

Hoseok watches the two of you chat for over an hour. He sees the exaggerated reactions you give to whatever story Jackson’s telling you. Just by the way your face is lighting up, he can tell you’re already falling hard.

Thinking back to the night before, Hoseok questions what happened. Was it just the wine going to his head? The two of you had been friends for so long now that he assumed it couldn’t be possible that the two of you were soulmates. Surely any hidden connection you had would have been realized by now. Maybe he’s just feeling jealous that you’re finally meeting your soulmate and he’s still alone.

But that kiss was unlike anything he had ever felt before.

Deep in his thoughts, Hoseok doesn’t notice when you and Jackson stand from the table and walk over to his.

“Hobi, this is Jackson.” Hoseok jerks his head upward, met with a confident smile from Jackson. Hoseok quickly stands and extends his hand. 

“I’m Hoseok, nice to meet you.” Jackson firmly shakes his hand. The two hold eye contact for just a little too long.

“She’s already told me so much about you. Thanks for helping her track me down.” Jackson chuckles. Hoseok looks over at you and notices that you are holding his other hand. 

“Thanks for helping me find my soulmate.” You chirp happily. Hoseok narrows his eyes, looking back and forth between you and Jackson. 

“Soulmates? Are you sure?” Hoseok questions you.

“Hoseok!” Your exclamation is accompanied by a slap on the arm. “Of course I’m sure!” You give a quick and embarrassed apology to Jackson.

The way you’re already clinging to Jackson makes Hoseok’s stomach twist. The look in your eye when you stare up at his face makes Hoseok want to shut his eyes. He can tell you’re smitten, but he’s got a bad feeling. Despite your obvious certainty that this is your soulmate, Hoseok can tell that something is just not right.

~~~~~~~

See you soon for Part 2! Comment to be added to the tag list! <3

Check out my Not Warriors Soulmate Series Masterlist!

[mightymorphingayagenda]

cAMPING PROMPT !!!! we’re both camp counsellors and our cabins are rivals so we have to make out in secret ;))) luv u

You Can’t Escape My Affection

I luvvvvv this prompt and i luv u! I’ve been on a course all week and wrote this on the train this morning so I only proof read it once, sorry...no explicit smut, just a horny drabble really.

——————————————————————————

Rivulets of water dripped over his chiselled features, gliding over cheekbones that could cut glass and that rugged jaw line to map the strong column of his throat.

His shirt had become transparent in the water; the white fabric clinging to him, every chiselled ab and flare of brutally honed muscle slicked over tightly, the defined panes sharper than a whetted blade.

Broad arms sinfully carved from thick muscle glistened, tattoos stark and oily as he smoothed his hands back through his hair, over his head, the muscles of his biceps and upper chest flexing casually. With his long, dark hair, slicked back thickly, his grin was unobstructed, and Nesta’s knees went weak.

“Touché”

Nesta shrugged.

A handsome dimple pierced the crease of his cheek, and as though it were the most natural thing to do, Cassian brought his hands to the hem of his shirt, and tugged the sticky fabric off over his head.

“Now get in here” he demanded, nothing playful in those deep brown eyes as he tossed the wet item at her.

Nesta caught it, and almost went to smell it instinctually, burning to smother herself in Cassian’s masculine scent.

The sun lathered over his broad and powerful upper body, water crawling down the rugged panes like honey, slowly drizzling over a thick and gluttonous desert.

God her boyfriend was gorgeous.

21 years old to her 19 and quite possibly the love of her life, if not just the best sex she’d ever had. Of course, if anyone at Camp Illyria asked, she’d say he was an arrogant and preening bastard who thought having a body like a Greek god was a substitute for a personality.

This couldn’t have been further from the truth, aside from the body like a Greek god part, which was entirely and torturously accurate. Cassian was kind, and intelligent and funny and not an inch of that confidence was misplaced; if anything, he was sometimes ignorant to just how wonderful he was. But pretences had to be maintained.

The rivalry between Siphon Cabin and Fascinus Cabin was legend. As camp counsellors and representatives of their respective cabins, it was their sacred duty to hate each other’s guts.

Which was kind of hard seeing as they were intensely in love and fucking like rabbits.

They’d managed to keep their relationship secret for almost two consecutive summers now. Sneaking about and perhaps overzealous in their trying to sell the whole “damn do we hate each other and decidedly not want to be making out right now” thing.

But this afternoon, Cassian had slipped up behind her when she’d been bent over the water fountain, on her first break from coaching tennis all morning. With a large, warm hand on her ass, tennis skirt slightly tucked up over the plump flesh, he’d given her cheek a firm squeeze as he’d whispered in her ear.

“Romantic walk. You. Me. Sunset. I’ll see you on the beach at seven, Sweetheart”

She’d only brushed the heal of her shoe up his calf slowly to indicate she’d heard before swivelling to walk away. A tight sway in her hips purely for his benefit.

Their fingers had brushed every so often as they’d wondered lazily along the water’s edge, any onlookers reasoning that they would be discussing tomorrow’s activities.

It had been romantic, the closest thing to a date they’d had since Cassian had once snuck her a plate of french toast back to his cabin where she’d been stranded, aching so deeply from their athletic sex the night before that she hadn’t been able to stand.

They’d made their way down the jetty gradually, it’s broad legs wading through the lake, glossy with tangerine and gold and pink as the sun set.

“I’d never really realised how far out this thing goes” Nesta had mused, peering over the edge at her reflection. The little necklace at her cleavage that Cassian had given her the first day of camp this year glinting brightly and dangling from her throat.

“Mmmm” Cassian had slid his hand into hers where it was tucked behind her back. Tugging her against him.

She was pressed flush to that powerful upper body, his hands coming to her hips tightly. Those exposed arms, detailed with tattoos that spilt over his shoulders like glistening black oil, caging her in at the waist.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she’d raised an eye brow, making the fatal error of putting a hand on one of his pecs to push him away. She’d become momentarily distracted by just how hard the muscle was, totally losing her train of thought.

“You said yourself, we’re pretty far off camp…” he’d licked his lower lip slightly before biting down on the plush softness.

“So?” Nesta had sounded unpersuadable enough, but her wondering hands had betrayed her. Her fingers finding themselves exploring his glorious arms and over the solid flare of his biceps.

“So” Cassian had began, his hands suddenly gliding down to her ass and thrusting her up, forcing her onto her toes so that their faces were now almost level. “Can I get a kiss from my girlfriend?”

His purr had been dripping with a masculine command and hot desire.

So she’d pushed him.

“Babe, you’re in the water because you can’t keep your hands to yourself” Nesta bent her knees to crouch down on the edge of the jetty. “So there is no way I’m coming in there with you” she said, going to stand back up. But Cassian was quick as he was strong, and with a broad stroke had pulled himself to the lip of the jetty. Bracing those large hands on the edge he pushed himself up on fully extended arms, the chiselled muscle there not even trembling with the strain of holding his upper body up.

“Afraid you won’t be able to resist me, Archeron?” his smirk was fatal, and Nesta sucked on her bottom lip as she made the mistake of allowing her eyes to wonder where they wished. Cassian’s skin like dark bronze was washed with that fine dusting of hair across his abdomen and dribbling with water drops that mapped every inch of him she craved to touch.

She lowered her knees onto the slightly damp wood and sunk down so that her face was level with his own, her ass resting atop her ankles.

“Maybe that I won’t be able to resist punching you” she said, leaning in and looking into those beautiful brown eyes. Her plush lips were a whisper from his own, the soft cotton of her baby blue t hemming low enough that the swell of her heavy breasts peaked sweetly out from the neckline.

She tucked a soooong wet lick of hair behind his ear.

“For someone trying to resist punching me you sure can’t seem to keep your hands off me,” Cassian quirked a dark eyebrow, eyes narrowing in challenge.

Nesta’s laugh was light and condescending, as she shook her head slowly, brushing his nose in an Eskimo kiss. “Because I’m the hands one in this relationship,” she said sarcastically.

“Do you have idea how hard your laugh gets me?”

Nesta had to groan a little exhale at that.

“Stop flirting with me” she warned.

“Or what?” Cassian leaned in closer to her,m.

Nesta didn’t balk from the challenge, bracing her own hands on the wood in front of her and leaning in so that her heavy breasts brushed his gleaming chest, her back arched slightly and the wetness bleeding through her shirt causing her nipples to tighten.

“Or when you fall asleep,” she murmured low against his lips,” I’ll steal every piece of furniture from your cabin, and throw it all in the lake”

Cassian narrowed those dreamy eyes like Swiss chocolate. He smelt like vetiver and s’mores.

“No way you could pull that off again”

“Try me”

“If you insist” he kissed her.

Lingering for only a sweet, hot moment, before his hand was cupping the side of her skull, and she was pulled into the water head first.

She crashed through the still surface, the gush of cool water begrudgingly welcome in the searing, late evening heat.

Nesta bobbed back to the surface with a furious splutter, gasping for air.

“Cassian” she splashed him sharply, his handsome features splitting in a charming laugh as she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him.

“I can’t stand up here” she furrowed her brow at him disapprovingly, their faces tucked into the silhouette of one another, and Nesta had to resist the urge to squirm against Cassian’s ridiculously sculpted body.

He gave her an incredulous look, disbelief and amusement quirking at his lips as he narrowed his eyes. “Yeh but you you can swim, sweetheart.”

He didn’t let go of her though, his large hands coming to rest on her ass, her white cotton shorts no doubt translucent. Nesta couldn’t help but run her hands up through his thick dark hair, up from the nape of his neck to brush the tips of his ears with her thumbs.

His eyes burned, a dark and wanton prowess slipping in and out of focus in the warm, brown. Like he couldn’t decide between lavishing her with affection, or his tongue.

Cassian’s strong forearms were braced beneath her thighs and the water shifted like satin beneath her t shirt where it billowed against her stomach under the surface. Above the surface, the fabric clung to her heavy breasts, the full flesh tight at the sudden coolness and Cassian’s touch, her nipples pebbled and visible.

“But do you remember what you said the other night?” Nesta hummed, watching her fingers as they gently brushed a dark stand of hair from his forehead.

“That I love it when we fuck missionary?” He murmured, thick and low and looking straight into her eyes as he brought a thumb to brush the beam of her cheek. “Because if I put my hand on your stomach I can feel my cock, fucking you all the way into your tummy, filling you up the way you love?”

Nesta took a long breath through her nose, the reaction almost imperceptible. She leaned her chest into him, and his nostrils flared slightly with pure, male satisfaction at the press of her nipples and plump breasts into his hard body, throbbing with warmth.

“No” she sighed, long and slow as though she were disappointed and a little bored. “That you love me,” she paused, tilting her face up, as though she were just waiting for him to lean down and capture her mouth in a searing and deep kiss. “And that whatever I needed from you, you’d do it, no question, no hesitation”

She carved each words with the plump pillow of her lips like she were whetting a blade with the plush pout. Leaving her mouth parted on the punctuation of the last word.

“I remember” he nodded slowly, angling his head ever so slightly downwards, his slick hair brushing her fingertips where they rested on his broad shoulder as he moved.

“Well that includes being my own personal lilo” she shrugged.

“You know how much it turns me on when you objectify me, baby” he growled dramatically, dipping her in his tight hold to kiss her passionately, her wet hair falling back to drip into the water.

They were each smiling too much for it to be a real kiss, Nesta all but giggling in his arms.

He nipped at her lip, and though it was meant to be teasing and playful, Nesta couldn’t help the tightness that bloomed in her core.

“Mmmm, Cassian” she whispered reprimandingly as he began to kiss her slower, like he meant it. She gently coaxed him off her mouth with a gentle press into his shoulders. “We can’t” her lips were still parted, a whisper from his and her nose tucked against his own, eyes closed.

“I know” he conceded.

Nesta pressed her nails into the muscle at his shoulder just hard enough to tell him she hated it just as much as him.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, the rippling muscles of his form painfully obvious against every inch of her body, it was everything Nesta could do not to roll into him with her hips. Instead she just kept her forehead pressed to his, only for a moment longer, she told herself.

“I love you” he whispered.

Nesta bit into her lip softly, rubbing her thumb into his shoulder soothingly.

“Lucky me” she whispered.

She could feel the restraint practically shivering in every cell of his body.

“My gorgeous girl,” he traced his nose up her throat, tucking it along the tender softness beneath her jaw and eventually coming to her ear, which he nipped at.

Nesta had to open her eyes, to remind herself that the sky was a thing that existed above them and that she was in a lake, in her clothes, where anyone might see them, wrapped up in the arms of a man who would have to wait for just that reason.

“Stop it,” she warned him. Her breathing already becoming a struggle with the intensity of his hold and the rugged and tight set of his jaw. Even the sound of his breathing, raw and powerful and low, was getting her hot and bothered.

“Do you love me?” his voice was so low, so raw, it was almost as if he was growling at her. His eyes dark and oily with a curdling desire.

“Do you get off on asking dumb questions?”

“I’d like to get off with you.”

“Very smooth.”

“Answer the question.”

Nesta sighed.

“I love you.”

It was almost silent, quiet as it was sincere.

“I love you so much I can’t fucking breath, you absolute jackass. I’m so in love with you it feels like I miss you when I’m with you. I’m so in love with you it makes me feel sick sometimes.”

Cassian’s chest pressed into her as he exhaled deeply.

“Now tell me I can’t have you.”

His eyes were on hers, and the the unspoken words had Nesta’s chest aching like she were sprinting at full speed and needed to stop before she threw up. I dare you. I dare you to deny me.

She titled her head up, face leaning up into his and her mouth still parted just slightly.

“Under the jetty” she whispered at last, eyes closed and fingertips trembling at his shoulders with restraint and need. “No one will see us”

Cassian moved quicker than she’d ever seen anyone move before.

He pulled them to the jetty in two broad, powerful strokes. And was kissing her against the nearest beam before she could faint in his arms at the rolling of the muscles at his shoulder as he’d swam.

Nesta didn’t hesitate. Never would.

She was all but ringing his hair between her fingers, tugging and pressing her fingertips into his skull deeply to tug herself into him, every inch of her body writhing with a slow, rolling rhythm, the slick glide of her forearms over the muscles of his shoulders, the fidgeting press of her heels into the dip of his toned lower back, her stomach flexing against his washboard abs and her breasts absorbing every guttural breath and pounding beat of his heart.

It was all too much, and it was only the fact that she had nowhere to go, his beast-like strength holding her to him and making escape an impossibility, that stopped her from breaking away to try and breath, function, exist in a state that wasn’t a burning frenzy of heavy and overwhelming hedonism and desire.

The man drove her to hysterics.

Cassian was squeezing her ass with merciless greed, the soft, yearning knock of his jaw against her own and the brutal, masculine cut of every inch of his body intoxicating as he kissed her, filthy.

Nesta’s hands came to cup his jaw intensely as she pulled herself up and into him harder, her body physically cresting as though she were trying to climb his body with the tight, hot lust in her stomach as she kissed him with fevered passion.

It was hot and heavy, every cell of her going into showing him how much she loved him; and how attracted to him she was. His mind, his voice, his body, his face and every sweet thing he was doing to her, driving her to pour her affection over him like she were trying to glaze him in her love.

Their tongues worked against one another with thorough intent, glossy strings stretching between them with every parting of their hungry mouths.

Nesta gripped Cassian’s bicep like it were an anchor, her hand barely making its way over the muscle even with her fingers splayed in desperate claws, the toned, bronze skin dimpling under her touch. The hand at her hip dragged up her waist and over the lip of her ribs, the sticky shirt rucking up in a slow, dripping, scrunching of the material against her burning skin.

Every one of those defined abs was now pressing into her exposed skin, his tight Adonis belt pressing into her abdomen through her flimsy shorts.

Nesta rubbed up against him through his jeans, the soft fabric of her shorts and her tiny panties providing an all but gossamer barrier between her throbbing pussy and the press of his zipper. He was so hard and thick against the inner seam of her thigh.

Their mouths slowed to a deep, lazy pace of pure desire and worship. No longer chasing the taste of the other’s tongue like it were candyfloss that would melt in the heat of their mouth. Instead indulging in the taste of each other like they were licking melted chocolate of the spoon.

They rolled against one another, the water lapping at their rocking bodies as they ground slowly against each other, and Nesta mused that it should have simmering on contact with Cassian’s burning skin. Every inch of him throbbed with a heat that soaked Nesta far more throughly than the water ever could.

She swore her eyes rolled back into her skull as he chewed down on her bottom lip, her body sinking into his to better align herself with the slow work of his hips. The wooden beam at her back creaked softly with every insistent press of her ass into the structure.

Nesta whined softly, biting down on Cassian’s lip.

“Someone’s going to notice if the pier starts swaying, baby” her voice was barely audible above the rhythmic creaking and lapping of water against their slowly grinding bodies. Her nose tucked against Cassian’s, their lips still brushing as they gasped for breathand her eyes closed, Cassian’s powerful breathing driving her wild.

How could he make breathing so fucking hot?

“And if we stay any longer…” Nesta pressed a lingering kiss to his burning lips, “I’m gonna need you to fuck me. And then you’ll probably break the pier”

Cassian chuckled, opening his eyes and with a torturously deep press of his hips that pinned her to the beam, he groaned against her parted mouth, both of them still breathless.

“How am I supposed to keep my hands off you, till I can next do this?” He tilted his head, pressing an affectionate, hot kiss just below her ear. Nesta’s sigh tripped on her deep breaths, and she tilted her head back against the wood and slipped her fingers between the belt loops of his jeans under the water.

“I wish we could stay here forever” she whispered, whimpering lightly as Cassian began to nibble at her ear lobe and bringing her hand to play with his hair, the other coming to rest atop his shoulder.

“I know” he kissed the shell of her ear, then traced his nose down the column of her throat beneath her chin, like the scent of her drove him wild. A smug smile tugged at his mouth when he reached the necklace bouncing slightly atop her cleavage with her breathing.

He pressed a kiss over the golden heart, no bigger than the pad of his thumb.

“My Sweetheart”

His purr hummed through her breasts, and Nesta would have laughed at him , if it weren’t so fucking hot.

But goosebumps that were not the work of her boyfriend’s skillful touch were beginning to dust her arms, the sun disappearing and the water becoming colder as the sky burned a dark lilac.

“I love you, Cassian” she said, dropping her chin slowly and tilting her head to capture his mouth in a sweet, loving kiss.

Her fingers came to his neck, and he returned ever drop of adoring softness with his lips.

“I love you, Nesta”

—————————————————————————

@elide-lochan-salvaterre

@sleeping-and-books

@mawaree

[stuffedfoxwiththewifipassword]

Please Don’t Leave Me (Sammy and John)

Warnings: Major character death, mentioned smut

John didn’t know what he expected when Sammy came along on the Summer Camp Mission. He stood by the Wave-rider door, the counselor outfit he had been forced to wear extremely uncomfortable against his skin.

“John!” Sammy laughed, hopping on his back and wrapping her arms around his neck. “I can’t believe we’re going to a summer camp!!”

John laughed, wounding his arms around Sammy’s legs and holding her against his back. “Bug infested ranches filled with horny teenagers.” He hummed, “Don’t see the appeal, luv.”

Sam ruffled his hair, tugging at the blond locks before kissing his head. “Oh cmon, a whole summer to get away? Nothing but you, the woods, and a bunch of potential friends??” She rested her cheek against his hair. “It was my favorite part about being a kid..”

John sighed, rocking around with the angel latched to his back. “Though, the poor counselors had to endure those ‘get away summers in the woods’ with these..” He pulled uncomfortably on his collar, “Uniforms.”

Sammy kissed the back of his head, “Don’t be a knob, Johnny.” Sam noticed the tie, “And for god sake loose the tie, hon!”

“You may take my coat,” John groaned, “But you’ll never take my tie!”

John stood at the entrance of the camp, Sammy standing next to him. John took a cigarette out of his shirt pocket, popping it into his mouth. “John, no!” Sammy snagged the cig from his lips, tucking it into his pocket. “This is a summer camp, not the backyard of a high-school!”

John groaned, “You’re gonna be the death of me, Angel...” He leaned over and snuck a cheeky kiss. “One time, for the kids.”

Sammy hugged his arm, “Attaboy, John!” She kissed his cheek, “My brave boy, going into war without his precious cigarettes!”

“Oh shut up, luv, or I’ll make you...” He swooped in, and right before the snogging could continue, the rest of the crew strolled up.

“A-are these uniforms necessary?” Ava asked, looking uncomfortable in the blue polo shirt and light tan shorts.

Sammy glanced at Ava, and whistled “Girl, you look badass!!”

“Cmon, Gideon made these for us!” Ray smiled, “The official Camp Ogawa Counselor uniforms!”

“What are you guys doing just standing around?!” Sam jumped, taking every last bit of strength in her not to grab onto John. John noticed, and easily slipped his hand into hers.

Sara, who was just catching up, smiled, “Hi, we’re the new camp counselors! Sorry to show up unannounced..”

The old lady sneered, “Well, Freckles, I’m Paula Cooper. I’m the director here.” She glanced at John and Sammy’s joined hands, rolling her eyes, “Welcome to Camp Ogawa, where intermingling between counselors is strictly forbidden.” Sam glanced at John, and the two slowly took a step away from each other. Paula sighed, “Chad Stephens’ll show ya around. CHAD!”

A boy ran over. He looked a little older than Sammy (Her being 140 and looking 24), with brown hair and a perfectly chiseled face. His shirt was snug around his chest and arms, and Sammy couldn’t help a glance. “What’s up?”

The camp director must’ve felt the same. “Chad, you marbled cut of prime beef... Give the new counselors a tour!”

“Cool.” He turned to the group, locking eyes with Sam. With a grin, Chad winked, “Lets bounce over this way!” He started to lead Ava, Ray, Sara, and Sammy down the path. John rolled his eyes, following a second later. Sam could hear him talking to Ava, but couldn’t make out much of their conversation.

Chad on the other hand, stopped abruptly, making the angel bump into him. John practically almost jumped out of his sneakers to strangle the lad. “Oh, sorry.” Chad grinned, “As everyone can see, Camp Ogawa is a miserable place. Paula runs it like a POW camp...” His smile widened, if that was possible. “NOT!” That sent Chad and Ray into giggles.

“Oh god...” Sara muttered, “A 90′s ‘not’ joke...”

Ray sighed, “It’s like comic comfort food...”

Chad noticed something, and grinned widely, “Couldn’t help but admire your lanyard!” He said to Ray. “Make it yourself?”

“Oh..Yeah, thank you!” Ray said, “Along with 21 other merit badged I also went on to get certification in nuclear science and dentistry.”

“Oh snap!” Chad laughed, “Got some competition for coolest counselor this year!” He turned to Sam, “What about you? Got any special skills?”

John cut in, “Sammy’s very creative.” He motioned to her leather bracelet, which had gems sewn into it for protection, “She made that herself!”

“Oh,” Chad smiled, “Artistic...Fantastic, the girls in your cabin’ll love you.” He clapped, “Anyways, lets get you all assigned to your cabins! It’ll be a heck of a summer.”

As the others marched on, John stayed back with Sammy. The angel crossed her arms, “What the hell was that, John?”

“Lad’s clearly flirtin’ with ya.” John deadpanned, putting his hands in his pockets, “Was only being polite and not telling him to piss off.”

“That was not nice, John.” Sammy rolled her eyes, “Cmon, lets go before the others get suspicious.”

She didn’t hold his hand on the way.

The girl’s cabins were a surprisingly fun place to be. Sam had gotten assigned to the same cabin as Sara and Ava. “Whats up, Franklin cabin?!” Sara went around, giving the girls high-fives. The girls cheered, laughing happily. “I am Sara, this is Ava, and the short haired one is Sammy!” Sammy waved cheerfully next to a stone frozen Ava. “We are your camp counselors! Now, I was thinking...We need a secret handshake.”

The whole cabin murmured with agreement. “Something cool, that only we know!” Ava pulled Sara aside, and Sammy was dragged into the fun.

One girl pulled her aside, “Hi, I’m Sophie!” She smiled, “You’re counselor Sam?”

“Please,” Sammy said, engaging in making a handshake while chatting, “Call me Sammy.”

“Sammy,” Sophie smiled, “I like that!”

“Thanks...” Sam sighed, “I was named after my uncle Samuel. He changed his name, sadly, so my mother wanted to keep the name in the family. Where’d you get your name from?”

Sophie sighed, “My grandma..”

“Ok, listen up ladies!” Ava called out, “Change of plan. Today we’re going to celebrate your first day of camp by using safety and discipline.”

“Who hurt you?” Sammy muttered.

Ava just growled at her. “Now, when I blow this whistle, I want you to run to your assigned bunks.” She blew the whistle, the entire cabin racing to their beds in fear.

Sammy just stood there in shock, willing her wings not to jump out. “Again...Who hurt you as a child?!”

When the night rolled around, Sam couldn’t help but go see John. She missed the blond bloke, and was desperate for his hugs. John must’ve felt the same, because half way between their cabins the two bumped into each other.

“John.” Sam sighed.

“Sammy...” The warlock smiled, “H...How are you, luv?”

sam shrugged, “Ava’s running our cabin like a military bunk.” She leaned against him, smiling widely as his arms circled her waist.

“Hmm...” John hummed, kissing her forehead. “Ray’s running our cabin like a bloody Cub Scout leader.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Sammy brought him in, kissing the warlock softly. Softly slowly melted into roughly, hands gripping at each others uniforms. They pulled away, “John, we’re in the middle of a camp ground surrounded by kids...” Her hand caressed his cheek, pants leaving both their lips.

“Oh, they’ll bloody learn it all in about a year,” John grinned wolfishly, “Let’s just give ‘em a head-start if the little bastards catch us.”

“Ok.” The angel pulled John back in, and in a few moments the two dropped to the ground by the camp-fire area.

Sam sat on a bench with John, the two holding hands and smiling like idiots as children raced all around them. “Oh if only they knew what they were running on...” John joked.

“Ooohhh, now I wanna tell them...” Sammy grinned, “You evil little bastard...” John spotted Ray, and with a gentle kiss on Sam’s cheek the warlock walked over to see his cabin mate. Sara stomped up to Sam, looking pissed.

“Where were you last night?” She demanded.

“Uh...With John...” Sammy blinked, “Why?”

Sara dragged her up, and watched up with the boys and Ava. “One of the girls in our cabin is missing.”

“What? Who?” Sammy strode next to John, their fingers intertwining.

Sadly, the angel was ignored as the group approached John’s salt circle he had made around the came. “Obviously theres something wrong with John’s booby trap.” Ray suggested, seeing the slight dent in the circle.

John scoffed, “You off your trolly, mate?!” He snapped, “My spell was designed to keep the monsters from gettin’ in, not kids from gettin’ out!”

“Maybe they snuck out?” Sara suggested.

“Why would they have snuck out?” Ava asked, dumbfounded by the possibility.

“To make out, duh!” Sara filled, “Like Sam snuck out last night to make out with Constantine.”

“We may have done a bit more than a good ol’ fashioned snog, luv.” John grinned, Sara’s face scrunching in disgust. “Lets go notify the camp director, yeah?”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE’RE NOT SENDING A SEARCH PARTY AFTER THEM?!” Sammy practically screamed at the camp director.

Paula didn’t back down, “They’re perfectly fine. This happens every year!”

John stood back from the scene, knowing full well not to mess with a pissed off angel. Especially his angel. But he couldn’t help a grin at Sam’s response. “Oh, so you loose kids every year? What do you tell their parents?!”

“They always come back,” The director waved it off, “Sooner or later they’ll get hungry and come crawling back for food.” She glared at Sam, “Now go out there and do some counseling!”

Sam groaned, turning on her heel and storming past the Legends with a furious look in her eyes. “Sam,” John called, catching up with her, “Where ya goin’ luv?”

Sammy turned on him, snapping, “To find those kids!”

“No!” he gently grabbed her wrist, “It’s to dangerous, Sam. Your wing isn’t healed fully and you can’t fly if you need--”

She pulled her hand from his grasp, and sneered, “I don’t need you to tell me what to do, Mr. Constantine.” She could see the hurt in his eyes, but she didn’t stop, “So back off...If you won’t help me find those kids, I don’t need you.” And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed away.

Leaving a very heartbroken John in her wake.

John started to worry when the sun started to rise the next day and Sammy hadn’t returned. He and Ray walked in the woods, holding up one of John’s many magical totems to find the missing kids.

And Sam.

John wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he wouldn’t know what to do if he lost Sammy. Dez had been a hard hit to his heart, but Sammy had patched it up, making it twice as strong. He loved her, more than anything. “How are we gong to find the kids with this dangly thingy?” Ray asked, snapping John from his trance.

“You know, this ritual usually works best when someone isn’t yammerin’ in my ear hole...” John snarled in warning.

“If you wanna find the kids, gotta do it the old fashioned--”

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT SOME BLOODY KIDS!!!” John roared, getting into Ray’s personal space and pushing him. “I CARE ABOUT SAM...I need silence...” He backed up, “I need to find her...Please,” He bit his lip, “Let me find her.”

“Why do you care so much about finding S?” Ray shrugged, looking down at his compass, “She’s an angel, she can handle herself.”

John grabbed his stupid compass, chucking it into the woods. “Now you listen here, Raymond...” He growled, “I know Sam can handle herself. Oooh believe me I know. But I...Care for her. Deeply...So stop your dilly-dallying and lets find the angel, yeah?”

The two marched into the woods, and came across something...Disturbing. Goopy skin. John leaned down, gently touching the goop before wiping the goop on the ground. “Left behind by the creature.”

“Who sheds its skin after eating the kids?” Ray tilted his head, “What kind of monster are we looking for?”

“The answer to that,” John took out a book from his coat, “Is in this book.” He handed it off to Ray, who flipped through the pages whilst John inspected the skin.

A second later, there’s a ding as Ray puts everyone on the coms on the channel, “Guys, we might’ve ID’ed our monster. It’s a Shtriga.”

Shtriga. No. No no no... John grabbed the book, “A-a Shrtiga feeds off the life-force of children..They eat angel life-forces like golden liquid to.”

“Angels?!” He heard Sara yelp over the coms, “That means...”

John began to panic, “We need to find Sammy. Now.” The warlock raced off, leaving Ray to catch up on his own.

John searched the woods well into the night. “Shritga’s lair can’t be to far...” He said to Ray absently.

“John.” The scientist stopped him, holding up a pretty blue feather in the light of his flash-light. “Isn’t this...”

“Sam’s feather.” John sighed, “She must’ve tried to fly away from the Shtriga...Bloody brilliantly stupid angel...” He cut his finger, letting the blood drip onto the feather. He recited a spell, taking the feather and lighting it with his lighter. As expected, the blue fluff combusted, a spark flying around. “Ah, Will-o the Wisp. Little bugger to lead us to my luv.”

“Your luv?” Ray questioned, raising an eyebrow with a grin. “I knew you two were a thing!!”

“Shut your mouth.” John snapped, rushing after the wisp as it darted away.

An old witches hut. Of course. John slowly creaked open the door, peering in wearily. “Sam?”

“No more feathers...You’d thing she’d struggle all the way here. Leave a trail for us.” Ray said, walking over to the cloth covered crates. Grabbing the edge of one, both men were frightened when a little girl gasped. “A-are we to late?!” Ray panicked, grabbing all the cloths to reveal the lost kids.

“No.” John sighed, “Their all tip-top...”

“C-c-counselor John...” One of the boys whimpered, “T-theres one more.”

John kneeled to be face to face with the lad, and let out a shaky breath. “Ok, do you know where the monster put the other one?”

“In the back...She was really pale...” The boy whimpered.

John let out a sigh he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Thank you so much, lad!” He raced around the back, “Sam?!” He jogged forward, looking around when he tripped on something. He looked down, and quickly started to dig into the rubble.

A wing. Bright colors blending against each-other. “Sam!” He yelled, tossing trash and planks aside. “Sammy!!” Panting, he pulled the rest of her out of the pile, her wings limp as John held her close to his chest.

Her face was ghostly pale, and John franticly searched for her pulse. “Cmon...Cmon Sammy...Come back to me, Sam! Come back to Johnny...” He kissed her forehead. Sammy didn’t respond. “Sam...PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!”

He screamed, holding her head to his chest as he begged and begged. “I can’t loose you to...”

“John...” Sam croaked, her eyes barely opened. Her wings shifted, gently tracing his back as sobs racked his body. “Johnny, I got you...”

John sniffled, “You’re gonna make it.” He brushed one of her hair’s behind her ear, “Just gotta hold on a little longer for Johnny...” Another kiss was pressed against her temple, “Little longer, My Angel...”

Her head lulled to the side, and in the dark John couldn’t make out the change in her wing’s colors. “Jo..n....I....Lov....You...”

John rested his forehead against hers, “I love you to, Sam...” He noticed how she fell limp against him, her eyes dull to the world. “Sam.”

“SAM?!”

[vilikinsally]

Spike & Illyria

“I want to have sex.”

Spike glanced up from his crude drawing of Angel, the blunted red pencil pausing mid-scratch by the teeth. He cocked his scarred brow at the image before him: the tall, slender woman was bared naked to his eye with strands of blue hair hanging just above her breasts. Her entire body was covered in vivid blue veins and colouring, catching the vampire’s gaze efficiently as he studied her form in completion. He met her stare once again.

“Wha’?”

“I want to have sex,” she repeated. “Humans have such pitiful desires, I am curious to know why sex is desired above all of the other pathetic wishes.”

He closed his eyes for a pause, “Blue… put yer clothes on and go to bed.”

“No. I want to have sex,” she repeated once again, this time entering further into the office Angel had set up for Spike (“Go to your office, Spike.”), approaching the vampire behind the desk with a graceful stride. “I want to understand.”

“Then go an’ find Percy, whatcha ‘ere for?” He asked exasperatedly, growing uneasy the closer she came. Nothing seemed to slip past the hard skull part of her head and get into that brain of hers; she pushed forward until she came to the edge of his desk and there was where she stayed while she read him.

“You’re afraid of me. Is that why you will not consummate with me?”

Spike scoffed, his stomach clenching. “Afraid? Of you? What for? I’ve died before, it’ll be like another vacation… or not.”

Illyria guided herself around the desk, making her way closer to him. Spike stood hastily from his chair, backing away from the advancing woman and creating some distance. He didn’t know what to think so he turned to his gut but that was no good; poor guy had been rid of sex since getting his soul back and Illyria���s movements were hypnotic and strangely pleasing to watch. He shook his head violently, raising his hands to his head as if a terrible migraine had abruptly hit him. He continued to watch her as he was backed into the wall, gazing down (by not much) and letting his arms fall.

“Look,” he began, his eyes focused on the alien blue ones staring back, “I get it. You’re curious; but I’m not goin’ to be a soddin’ guinea pig for you, a’right? Fuck off.”

“I don’t understand that expression,” Illyria spoke monotonously, “and I don’t care to. I want to have sex.”

Spike pointed at the door. “Go shag Angel, then. Sure ‘e needs it more than I do…”

He trailed off as he watched the dark pastel blue fade into a nice brown shade, the intensely blue eyes darkening a shifting, and the blue veins and patches fading enough to be less noticeable. Not completely gone, but less noticeable. Less… alien.

“Is this better?” Her voice was smooth, gentle, like butter. “Am I more desirable?”

Spike sighed deeply, touching the side of her face lightly with the tips of his fingers. Illyria leaned into his touch, her gaze soft and hooded and failing to break away from his own. Spike didn’t need to breathe, but it felt as if any air that came into his lungs by habit had been sucked out of him. He felt a surge cut through him as if he had been electrocuted. He hadn’t had this kind of tender intimacy ever since—

No. No, we’re not going to think in that direction, right now, are we?

“I’m already naked,” she whispered, pushing hair over her shoulder to expose her chest to his gaze. “You’d be the only obstacle.”

He chuckled, grazing his fingers along the line of her jaw, across her lips, and then down the line of her nose before tapping the pointed tip. “You need to work on your bedroom talk.”

“Rough or gentle?” She asked, teasing the hem of his shirt up his muscled abdomen, feeling the bumps and crevices with her fingertips. “Sweet or harsh?”

“Neither,” Spike stated firmly, but whatever adamancy in his voice wasn’t quite there in his gut. “This—” he directed a finger between the two of them, “—isn’t gonna ‘appen. Find someone else to shag, ‘cause I’m not gettin’ staked for touchin’ Fred.”

Illyria stuck out her bottom lip in an enticing and surprisingly playful pout. Spike cursed under his breath, slouching against the wall almost in defeat. She was relentless, determined, absolutely mental for pushing him so far but eventually Spike felt his knees turn to soup, his blood to water and every part of him feel like it was going to collapse into a puddle on the floor. All because of a little pout and those soft brown eyes staring up at him with such a gentle plea, making his daft arse feel even more stupid for giving in to such a simple thing.

A silly little pout she was still wearing.

“You’re a wicked thing, ain’t ya?” He muttered low, closing off a little of the small space between them to his eyes remained focused on that little lip sticking out. He was tempted to take it between his own and nibble on it with his teeth. Tempted, but not stupid.

Illyria struggled not to smirk, causing her to purse her lips while the corners of her mouth quivered in the conflict not to show her triumphant amusement. “Take it.”

“Stop readin’ my soddin’ mind…” he muttered, his own lips parting in response to the feeling stirring in his trousers. His gaze met hers as his hold on the last thread of sanity seemed to be slipping from him.

“It’s not your mind I’m reading,” she whispered, stepping into him and pressing her slender figure against his. “Your body is a ruthless traitor.”

“You don’t bloody say?”

But the electricity conjuring between them had reached its peak and as he had pictured only moments ago, Spike gave into his desire and took Illyria’s mouth with his own, sucking her bottom lip. Tempted and bloody stupid, he thought, but still he wrapped his leather-clad arms around her slim figure and brought her tight against his hard body. Illyria snaked her arms around his shoulders, accepting his attention greedily and smoothing her hands beneath his shirt to feel his skin and the muscles twitching and moving in response to her touch. Spike, his mouth still on hers in a heated kiss, pushing her toward the desk that was scarcely illuminated by the lights of Los Angeles piercing through the window.

He wanted to stop (that’s a lie). Okay, so he felt like he should want to stop, but what good was it going to do? Her determined exterior was going to keep coming back to him—and if not him, she was going to circle every man in Wolfram & Hart trying to find someone willing to risk their careers or their lives for a bit of nookie. No, Spike was only going to maybe play with her for a bit and then stop when they reached the serious stuff. He didn’t want to turn to nothing again because Angel thought he had taken advantage of her (he bloody wasn’t; if anything, she seemed to be taking advantage of him). On a more impressed note, he was amazed at how he was still able to think while the tightness in his erection got ever more painful with each second he attempted to ignore it.

Illyria’s voice cut through his fogging train of thought, having broken their kiss most likely when she felt his enthusiasm dwindling.

“You’re thinking. Stop it.”

Spike was startled to find she had managed to rip his shirt from his body while he had been kept away in his reverie, staring down at the hands that touched his abdomen like a blind person reading brail. He shrugged his ever-permanent leather duster from his shoulders, chucking it onto the carpeted flooring to reveal more of his lean figure to her. The absolute delight that crossed her pretty features—Christ, she was practically beaming—was enough to egg him on to continue. Spike fondled at his belt buckle, unhooking the leather and tugging it from the loops of his trousers, allowing Illyria’s excited hands to undo the rest and finally even the playing field for the both of them. As soon as they were off, Spike kicked his pants to the side.

“So,” he started, smoothing his palms along her thighs. “Where do you want to do this?”

“You’ve conceded very quickly,” she observed, her tone picking up to an almost sing-song way. “Here. In the room. On the floor.”

“On the floor?” Spike parroted, arching a brow. He turned his down toward the floor, half-heartedly studying the dark carpet. “Not sure if that’s a good idea, luv…”

“Are you afraid of dirt?” Illyria said incredulously, “Women and dirt.”

“Oi!” He stuck a warning finger in front of her smug expression, “Watch it. I’ll leave you empty—God-demon-thing or not.”

“Then I will just break your legs and ride you to completion,” her lips curled at the corners but any kind of smile definitely did not extinguish the fire in her stare. “You are not leaving me in pain like this.”

Spike’s brow furrowed, his eyes meeting her own. There was a pause as his mind processed and finally came to the comprehension of what she meant, the realisation dawning on his chiseled face. Illyria glared at him.

“That was far too much time wasted on you trying to understand my meaning, you…”

She drifted off from her reprimanding sentence when Spike’s fingers dipped between her legs, stroking the silky folds and lightly teasing the swollen nub. She pursed her lips in response and attempts to keep her eyelids open, but inevitably failing and closing them. He continued to circle her clit with the pad of his thumb, his head cocking unconsciously to the side while he studied her suppressed reactions. There was a soft chomp from where her hands gripped his desk and his eyes snapped to see she had broken finger-sized pieces of his oak desk off; he had to admit to himself, it was getting to him. In a good way, of course.

“Still in pain, pet?” He whispered near her ear, probing a finger into the heated wetness.

Illyria still tried to conceal her moans and responses—what bloody for, Spike couldn’t pick it—but when he crooked his long, nimble finger and brushed against the spongy surface of the woman’s holy grail, he was met with the most glorious sight: she arched her back, almost curling it, thrusting her pelvis and his hand against his own hard erection. She released a lewd, strangled groan from deep in her throat followed by the softest but most delicate gasps. He smirked wickedly and with unmistakable amusement.

“Bloody ‘ell, woman…”

With no warning, Spike was shoved by Illyria—pushed so violently, in fact, that he landed back against the floor, his hand briefly detached from his present lover’s sopping warmth. The naked woman followed him down, her shins on either side of his hips, hovering inches above his weeping cock. She stroked her fingers along its length, touching at the pre-cum seeping from the tip with a gentle curiosity.

“Is it crying?” She inquired, tilting her head. Spike stared into her brown eyes to truly see if she was being serious and found something mischievous glinting in the corner. His lips cocked into a knowing grin.

“Yeah. It needs a hug.”

Illyria lowered her upper body, displaying her core’s strength, resting the weight on her forearms on the carpet bracketing his head. Her face hovered a mere inch or two away from Spike’s face, the tip of her nose brushing gently against his, coyly poking her tongue from her lips to taste his lips. Spike greeted her with his own tongue, his hands lifting to smooth along the curves of her thighs, reaching between her legs to tease the sweet spot once again.

“Then I shall put it out of its misery.”

[acupofmatt-blog1]

MATT VS. NATURE

Location→ Hither Hills State Park

Date→ 08/23/19-08/25/19

Summary→ …pray for Mattycakes.

MATT VS. MOSQUITOES (AND BUGS JUST BEING VERY, VERY SCARY)

Matt always went by the motto “if you got it, flaunt it” and Matt applied this motto anytime, anywhere. Even camping. So Matt obviously wore a black sports bra and black shorts. It was sporty and Matt looked as fuck. Now, Reagan and several others advised Matt before they went hiking to “cover up” and Matt only rolled her eyes and responded with: 

           “With a body this good? She’s gonna be shown off.” Pause. “Wait are you telling me that my perfectly sculpted abs are gonna attract attention? Like…furry attention—wait I worded that wrong—like…bears?”

           Matt couldn’t be more wrong. As everyone enjoyed the hike and all the wonderful sights of nature, you could hear loud smacking every few seconds.

           “What the FUCK why do these mosquitoes keep biting me?” Matt whined as she smacked the back of her neck. “I WORE bug spray, look!” Matt showed the person next to her the bug spray.

           Much to Matt’s dismay, it was not bug spray. It was bear spray that Matt applied generously all over her body.

           Wrong B.

           Matt smacked her arm, watching bumpy, red mosquito bites forming all over arms and on her abdomen.

           “This is not the kind of sucking I signed up for.”

           The rest of the hike, Matt mostly smacked away mosquitoes and also made obnoxiously loud noises that trembled with fear. Because WHY do animals with a billion tiny legs exist???

~ ~ ~ ~

MATT VS. THE SETTING SPRAY FAILURE

           Make-up was, and always has been, Matt’s best friend. Contour? Matt looked like some motherfucker from Roman times chiseled her face by the time she was done baking and enhancing with her Anastasia contour kit. Highlight? Matt competed with the motherfucking sun as she applied her Fenty highlight. Brows? Move over Michelangelo (not the Ninja Turtle) because Matt’s talented wrist never failed to move effortlessly and create an impeccably shaped eyebrow all thanks to her Anastasia brow kit (she really loved Anastasia beauty products, okay? As much as Fenty, if not more. Don’t tell Rihanna that though).

           Basically, Matt knew make-up like it was basic math. It was easy. She always knew what to use. So when Matt ordered Kiko Molano setting spray? She knew she’d be fine. Matt’s always used the Italian beauty product. It never failed her. Her gorgeous make up always stayed on no matter the setting. Beach day? Check. Clubbing? Check. ACup? Check. Sex? Double check.

           Matt sweating didn’t freak Matt out. She could sweat all she wanted, this make up would stay on no matter what. Matt was particularly proud of her winged eyeliner. If this motherfucking eyeliner could fly, it would be a majestic eagle because that’s how SHARP it was. Could kill someone, probably.

           After helping some of her friends who were making a fire bring the necessary items to make a bonfire, Matt was definitely sweating a bit. Matt placed her hands on her face and paused to take a breath from all the work. Matt was about to go back to her bonfire duties when she noticed something shimmery, something dark, and something cakey in her hands.

           NO.

           Matt let out the loudest scream, causing some of her friends to rush over to her in worry.

           “My SETTING SPRAY didn’t SET!” Matt informed them, showing her hands that displayed the evidence of her smeared make up. “It’s KIKO MOLANO. It’s an Italian product and all the reviews say it stays. Shit, Reagan has sat on my face and it STAYS ON. I don’t get it—hey, wait, where are you guys going?”

           Damn this Italian scam.

~ ~ ~ ~

MATT VS. FINDING WIFI

Instagram. Memes. Vines. Tik Toks. Reddit. Snapchat. Pinterest. Netflix. Hulu.  Matt Solís loved her social media and apps. It fueled her. So to go three days with limited Wi-Fi where her ego couldn’t be fueled by thirsty comments from her hot selfies? Or to see that crying laughing emoji from someone who thought she was the funniest person on the planet (and she was)? What if a new meme trends and Matt won’t know about it?

A nightmare luv, litrally a nightmare.

So naturally, Matt made sure to dedicate time to sorta catching up with social media and asking Harper to take pictures of her “enjoying” nature for the ‘gram. Matt especially liked one where it was golden hour and Matt’s make up + amazing skin made her face glow and she looked absolutely stunning as always.

She needed that ego fuel. CRAVED IT.

Matt needed to post this picture on Instagram, so she walked around looking like she was part of the Lion King with her arm stretched out as high as she could in search of some bars.

“This is the shittiest Wi-Fi I have ever had to deal with, what the fuck?” Matt complained as she continued to idly walk around in search of the perfect spot with the perfect amount of Wi-Fi where she can post something.

Five minutes into this heartfelt journey, Matt tripped on a thick, heavy branch and cracked her phone screen. Never mind that she might’ve slightly sprained her ankle. Her phone screen.

And the worst part? Amidst her bright, cracked screen she read the words “No Signal Please Try Again.”

Now how will people ever believe she was loving this camping trip?

A tragedy luv, litrally a tragedy.

~ ~ ~ ~

MATT VS. “BEAR”

           Matt’s nightly skincare routine is something Matt did religiously. She never missed a night. Matt could be coming in from clubbing at 6 am and super drunk, but Matt would still do her skincare routine. A bitch wants to have clear skin and glow, okay? Camping would not get in the way of that, even if she hogged the bathroom.

           After finishing her nightly routine with her night cream, Matt took her time putting all her creams, serums, moisturizers, etc. back in her travelling bag before walking back outside. As soon as Matt closed the door, Matt heard a rustling.

           “GUYS, it’s not fucking funny anymore! I already heard you, anyways, dumbass.” Matt rolled her eyes. Almost everyone had taken turns in scaring her multiple times during the course of this camping trip due to Matt’s irrational fear of bears, but this was getting old.

           Matt continued to hear rustling and Matt stopped dead in her tracks. Whoever it was... would’ve jumped out by now.

           Fuck.

           Shit.

           Motherfucker.

           No fucking way.

           Nope. It was not what she was thinking.

           “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Matt mumbled to herself. What should she do? Pray? Run? Sleep in the bathroom?

           Coming out of the bushes, Matt could see the silhouette of a four-legged animal.

           It was a bear.

           It had to be.

           What else could it fucking be?

           “I can’t die like this. I’m too fucking pretty.” Matt said to herself in panic as she scrambled through her bag and took out the bear spray she brought and frantically sprayed it all over. “GET AWAY. GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME. I JUST PUT MY NIGHT CREAM ON!”

           Several mistakes here.  

Matt was loud.

Matt was panicking.

 Matt wasn’t spraying bear spray.

It was bug spray.

It wasn’t a bear.

It was a raccoon.

The racoon ran as soon as she screamed.

Matt is an idiot.