#hey its me back from the rendering hell that was this piece

[coloriza]

Reference and inspiration by Yves Pires, "Le Baiser Nacre"

[anxiousgaypanicking]

At Long Last

Dukexiety (Remus x Virgil) Prompt: Hey mate so I'm a sucker for Virgil being rendered helpless and overstimulated so like could I put a request in for Virgil × Remus with Remus finally getting a hold of Virgil's voodoo doll?/Remus finally getting a hold of Virgil's voodoo doll? Warnings: voodoo, sex, felching A request from my Wattpad

"Ooo," Remus sings, as he stops midway through the hallway after spotting a discarded little toy. Very open on the floor was a little, pale doll, with cute, dark purple bangs. Of course Remus recognized the doll; he'd made it!

Back when he made his own little voodoo doll, he eventually got the motivation to make the others. And though this all started with Virgil using his doll, Remus never got the chance to return the favor!

So, he's quick to slip into the room and scoop the doll up, before skipping back out into the walkway. 

He pauses outside of a door, though, before he peeks his head into Virgil's room as he passes it, basically pushing his way in unannounced when he sees Virgil isn't currently preoccupied. Virgil jumps at the rather violent intrusion, as his door swings open and collides with the wall with a bang. 

"Virgil," Remus sings, "you're not busy right now, are you?"

Virgil looks at him curiously. "I might be, depending on what you say next."

Remus pouts at the sarcastic answer, but holds the doll firmly behind his back in order to not reveal why he's asking. He wants it to be an unexpected surprise! "Are you going to be busy later?"

Again, Virgil's eyes narrow as he looks Remus up and down, before eventually sighing and saying "no. I have no plans today. I might nap if my body lets me but honestly, who knows."

At this, Remus grins, and promptly walks out without another word. it's good to know he won't be interrupting anything... even though he probably would have fucked the doll all the same if Virgil told him he was going to be watching a movie or something of the sort. He's not known for his patience, after all, and since discovering the doll a few minutes ago, Remus has been fighting back the urge to just ruin the thing in the middle of the hallway.

He basically sprints to his own room, tossing the doll rather roughly onto his sticky sheets as he quickly shimmies out of his clothes. As he kicks his boxers off, he digs his hand into his drawer, searching desperately until he finally finds a small bag. He gives it a little shake, and is pleased to find it's still semi-full.

It was the "magic" powder that needed to be sprinkled on the doll in order to activate the voodoo aspect.

Remus is quick to open the bag and basically dump its contents onto the doll, delighted as he sees the sand-like substance meld with the doll and sink into its fabric, no doubt seeping into each stitch, and into the thin piece of Virgil's hair woven someplace inside the plush. Remus gives it a few seconds to let it properly soak up the dust, before he's hopping onto his bed, no longer having the patience to hold back to any degree. 

He's quick to peel the clothes off the doll and toss them away. Curiously, he dips his finger into the hole on the underside of the doll, and licks his lips when his fingers sink into a warm, moist area. 

Truthfully, he didn't fully understand how the dolls worked either, but nothing was real, so whatever. 

In his room, however, Virgil is startled as he feels two objects begin to push into him. They don't push very far, nor do they stretch him open wildly. But it's still enough of an intrusion to have him gasping, and his back arching off the bed. 

His face flushes as he wonders what the hell is happening. Of course, he's not an idiot. To some degree, he knows this has something to do with Remus - why would he have come to Virgil's door otherwise - but he can't place what exactly. After all, he only knew that Remus had created a doll of himself, not the other way around. 

Remus has never exactly been known for his patience, and it’s not fingering the doll is going to help Virgil out anyway. That’s the only reason he bothers with prep anyway, so why would he waste his time stretching open an inanimate object?

He pushes his fingers deeper into the doll, delighted at the way just two digits make the doll’s fabric stomach bulge, grinning afterwards at the innocent looking plush held in his hands.

Truly, it was rather admirable; he was very proud of his handiwork.

He then sucks on his fingers after he pulls them out, vividly picturing what Virgil’s reactions must be. He’s half tempted to rise into his room and watch him lose himself on a phantom cock, but decides to deprive himself of the visible, reasoning that he’ll go see Virgil afterwards, and see how exhausted he is.

Remus flips himself to lay on his back, and holds the Virgil doll against his cock, giving himself just a few moments to teasingly rub the toy against his shaft.

“Fuck… if you were really Virgil, you’d be squirming around, and insisting you hate when I tease you,” Remus grunts, as he ruts his cock over the doll’s front. “Unfortunately, you’re just a pocket pussy replica.”

He lifts the doll up, and lines up its hole with the tip of his cock, before pulling it rather swiftly down, groaning to himself at the rather attractive visual of the doll being extra stuffed. He knows from experience that his cock will feel much bigger to Virgil, which it in fact does.

Virgil barely has time to put his phone down between Remus pulling his fingers out and pushing his cock in, but when he feels it he cries out immediately, thighs shaking as his toes curl. His fingers dig into the sheets beneath him, trembling from the intensity of being so suddenly stretched open, with his stomach bulging from this invisible object.

While he still has his brain, and the ability to think, Virgil tries to come up with a reasonable explanation for what he’s feeling. However, he only comes to a conclusion seconds before Remus starts thrusting.

Gasping out “Re- Remus!” he tries to roll off his bed, perhaps thinking he could make it to Remus’s room, but only effectively manages to get onto his stomach before he feels the phantom cock inside of him begin to roughly fuck him hard.

Tears well up in his eyes as he moans loud, voice cracking as he pushes his chest into the bed and his ass up into the air. He holds to his mattress for support, body rocking as he’s quite literally used like a doll. Because Virgil realized that’s what Remus was doing. Using his doll.

The pure oversensitivity sets into his body fast. His face is pushed hard into one of his pillows, sobbing out cries of pleasure as he’s fucked. Remus’s cock feels so overwhelmingly large inside of him, to the point where he can feel his stomach bulging with its girth.

He moans Remus’s name, as if hoping Remus will show up and touch him properly, but muffles himself with his pillow shortly after, drool spilling into the pillowcase.

His arms tremble as he attempts to push himself up, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as he unbuttons his jeans and shoves them down to his knees, while his shirt and jacket slide up, exposing his chest. Every time he moves though, he swears Remus’s cock drives deeper inside of him. It’s almost as though Remus is easily able to pick up on Virgil’s desperation, and wants him to be able to barely get himself upright. And it’s working.

As soon as Virgil’s clothes are removed enough, he gives up on getting them off completely, and falls back against the bed with a shuddering moan.

Remus isn’t slow in the slightest, grunting animalistically as he squeezes his hand around the doll, fucking up into it while dragging it down. He’s panting excitedly as he watches the doll repeatedly bulge with the size of his shaft, before he rolls onto his knees in order to thrust into the doll properly. He pictures Virgil beneath him, fucking him doggy style, and humps into the doll with more force.

His cock is enveloped in the fabric’s moist warmth, making Remus’s body feel hot as he pictures just how wrecked Virgil is.

And Virgil is wrecked.

Sweat drips down his face, slicking his bangs to his forehead. A mixture of tears and spit soak into his pillow, and he can feel his cock leaking pre beneath him. His prostate is slammed into almost immediately, causing a loud cry to be pulled from his throat. His eyes squeeze shut, and his knuckles turn white.

His thoroughly overwhelmed by the amount of sensations he’s feeling, loving the intense amount of physical pleasure he’s getting, but feeling as though it’s so fast. It’s too much at once, in the best way.

He should really be concerned that Remus has this much power over him. At any time, any day, no matter the circumstances, Remus could just interrupt Virgil’s routine - regardless of whether or not he’s around the others - and just stuff him full of giant cock. And while this should make him anxious, as soon as he realizes this, he’s fumbling to get his hand around his cock.

The idea is just so fucking hot, but Virgil’s already close. He resists the urge to stroke himself, and instead squeezes his hand around the base of his cock in hopes of prolonging his orgasm at least another minute or two.

A whine spills from his lips. The thought of Remus having full control over him…

He has no idea how close Remus is though, and so he knows that if he doesn’t at least try to last a little longer, he could end up so overstimulated that he’ll be unable to do anything for the rest of the day.

He clenches around nothing, soaking his pillow with fat tears as he cries loudly into his pillowcase. Every breath he takes is a gasp for air before he shakily moans again. His fingers squeeze harder around his cock, before he decides he can’t take it anymore. 

As his prostate is assaulted, Virgil strokes his cock quickly and sloppily, until finally allowing himself to be pushed over the edge, coming over his bedsheets as a mixture of tears and drool falls from his face just as messily. He can barely work his cock through his orgasm before he’s collapsing into his mess, falling on top of his hand and the puddle of come beneath him.

Briefly, he whines, dreading the fact he’ll have to clean it later, but for now he pulls his hand out from under him and twitches helplessly as he’s forced to accept the onslaught of pleasure still being exerted on his body.

He looks pathetic. If anyone were to see him, they’d easily see his hole stretching and clenching around nothing.

Partially, he feels as though he’s going to pass out from his oversensitive state, left with no indication of if or when Remus will be finished with him. He thinks he feels Remus’s thrusts getting less and less refined, but Remus was never one for rhythmic thrusts anyway. He much preferred to just use and abuse to his heart’s content, regardless of how overwhelming that mindset is for Virgil.

Thankfully though, it doesn’t take long for Remus to fully ruin the poor little plush. Pre fills the doll’s warm hole as Remus fucks into it hard and fast.

Repeatedly, his cock slams deep into the toy, Remus grunting and panting wildly as his body is overcome with warmth, sweat rolling down the bony crevices of his body and dripping onto both the doll and the bed. Unlike Virgil, Remus doesn’t try in the slightest to stifle his orgasm, and instead moans out loud and shamelessly as his brings himself to climax, fucking the toy through his orgasm before eventually keeping himself half pressed inside the doll, stroking himself the rest of the way. He grins as he watches the doll’s fabric body bulge with the amount it’s stuffed with. 

He lets his head fall back as he huffs, tongue lolled out of his mouth like a doll as he feels his own semen squeeze out of the doll and spill around his cock, but that cringe-inducing feeling is nothing compared to what Virgil is experiencing, letting out a trembling sob as he feels himself being filled with Remus’s load, his own cock working itself back up both due to being rubbed between Virgil’s body and the sheets, and because Remus thrusts into the doll a few more times after his orgasm is finished.

Ultimately, it leaves Virgil half-hard, but lacking the energy to get himself off again, and so he stays slumped against his mattress, messy with a variety of fluids.

That is, until, his ass is promptly slapped, making him yelp at the stinging sensation as he quickly rolls onto his side in order to look behind him, only to flush when he sees Remus grinning and nude standing at the side of his bed. He’s clutching Virgil’s ruined-looking voodoo doll, still dripping with the very semen Virgil can feel inside of him.

Remus holds the doll sideways, but tilted partially upward, in order to prevent any of his come from leaking out.

Virgil doesn’t have the energy to question why Remus isn’t being a messy little freak for once, too completely and utterly fucked out of his mind to say really anything, and so can only muster up the energy to grumble “a warning would have been nice,” even though he very much enjoyed the lack of such.

Remus doesn’t bother pretending to be sympathetic though, only able to fake a pout for a moment before cackling instead and pushing Virgil onto his back, crawling between his legs as he claims that he didn’t get a warning when Virgil did it to him. And Remus - disgusting as usual - doesn’t waste any time before holding the doll legs-spread above Virgil’s face, tauntingly musing “your little look-alike is all messy,” as a glob of semen falls from the fabric and onto Virgil’s cheek, making Virgil cringe.

Virgil’s face goes red, but he half-heartedly reaches up to push Remus’s wrist away, grumbling “don’t be weird.” But he’s tired and weak, and he can’t do much to stop Remus from making the doll pretend to kiss Virgil’s nose, before having the plush’s face bump against Virgil’s lips instead.

“You know, you should help clean up this mess,” Remus then says, which has Virgil’s eyes snapping towards Remus’s face.

“What?”

Lips stretching into a wide grin, Remus’s eyes gleam with mischievous delight. His free hand slowly rubs over Virgil’s nipple, which causes Virgil to let out a small moan, as he states “it’s your fault the doll got ruined in the first place. You’re irresistible, after all! It only makes sense that this doll of you is irresistible too.”

He runs his finger up Virgil’s chest, before using his pointer and his thumb to force Virgil’s lips apart.

“Now be a good boy, and keep your mouth open, unless you’d rather me make a mess of your face.”

His threat hangs loosely in the air as he lowers the doll to Virgil's mouth, pressing it's backside against him. Immediately, Virgil's tongue is assaulted by the bitter taste, and his ass is assaulted by the phantom feeling of him cleaning himself out. It's weird and hot simultaneously, making him moan against the doll's hole, dragging his tongue deeper into it and sucking the semen out. 

Remus, deciding to be nice, grinds his palm over Virgil's shaft, easily working him back up until he's shivering and leaking, eyes rolling back into his head as he eats himself out. 

Until finally, Remus squeezes the doll's midsection, rubbing his fingers against the wet muscle through the fabric and making Virgil suddenly jolt and cry out in pleasure, before Remus works him to another quick orgasm, making a bigger mess of his chest as Remus pulls the doll away. 

Grinning with satisfaction, Remus throws the doll onto the nearby nightstand, and lays atop Virgil's pudgy stomach, making Virgil groan at the feeling. 

"Feel good?" Remus asks, swiping his thumb along the corner of Virgil's lips in order to scoop up some leftover come, before pushing it into his own mouth. 

Virgil huffs. "I'd feel better if we showered." 

Remus sticks his tongue out, and squeezes his eyes shut, though he makes no move to get up and leave. "Gross. Count me out!" 

Despite this, they stay laying together, Virgil too blissed-out to move, and Remus basking in the mess. And they stay cuddled up like that for as long as possible, just nestled up against each other, sticky semen between them. 

[asvterias]

𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗌 𝖶𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗁 𝖨𝗍 ~ 𝖲𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗂 𝖴𝖽𝖺𝗄𝗎

Sthandwa Sami (Xhosa) = my love

Warnings: Mentions of Teen Pregnancy, Sexual Innuendos, Threat Mentions, Toxic Relationship between Reader & Jamal

Pairings: Girlfriend!Shuri x Black!Girlfriend!Reader, Mom!Reader x Son!Kayden x Daughter!Karina

Summary: Finally getting her life back on track, Shuri moves to Haiti away from Wakanda to rediscover herself. Maybe, she’ll meet a certain someone who adds more spark to her life.

Word Count: 3.2k+

Author’s Note: Reader is 23 and she had her kids at 16, making them 7 years old. Kinda dedicated to my fav Shuri writers for giving me this huge inspiration with all of their amazing stories. I also suck at kissing scenes.

Tag List: @m1s41ly @aokoaoi @haechvn @axailslink @shuriss1utt @fentibeauty @shurishoe @shuris-whore @creamecafe @shuriswifey @shuriswifeyy @szalipcombo @prettyluhlaiiii @blackhottie25 @shuri-my-love @vargskelegore @camilaxmartin @d4ridi0rsworld @shuris-bbymama @chadwickswidowspeak @rayrayvan

The mixture of waves harshly crashing against the seashore and seagulls squawking from the skies drowned out Shuri’s sniffles as the warm breeze lightly wanders throughout her curls.

After finding out that she was not only a sister but also an aunt, her thoughts on the universe drastically changed once she realized that she wouldn’t have to grieve alone. Upon her brother’s passing and, currently, her mother’s recent passing broke her heart beyond pieces, and it was slowly rendering to its alignment.

Her eyes rested on the bonfire ahead of her, surveying the last bits of her funeral garments that furnished in the fire, transforming into black ashes. Breaking out into a tiny fit of giggles as she wiped away the runaway tears from her face.

All the weight on her shoulders was finally being lifted off and she felt like she can breathe again. Peace had managed to find a way into her heart once again.

Becoming an upcoming Queen was just going to bring back more unwanted stress that she simply just wanted to avoid. Of course, she’ll miss Wakanda, it was her homeland but from here on then, Haiti was her new home.

The waves brought her into a quiescent stupor as she admires the view in tranquility and astonishment. The ocean was her new getaway from time to time.

Music faintly played from the west side of the beach which caught Shuri’s ears but she didn’t pay any mind to it. The symphony gave her a soothing meditation to relaxation as she lets her eyes rest, swaying silently to the upbeat tune.

Being completely absorbed into her own world, the princess didn’t register when a shadow halted before her. However, when you gently tapped on her shoulder, it brought her out of a trance.

“Hey, you okay, you look like you’ve been through hell.” You softly speak, bending down slightly to the black woman.

Shaking her head in reassurance as a light-hearted chuckle erupts from her. “Trust me, you have no idea.” Shuri was finally healing and a stranger being sympathetic toward her wasn’t going to help. The stranger was only being kind to her and the princess shouldn’t chastise her for basic human decency.

She raised her head to look up at you, plastering on a charming smile, squinting her eyes a bit. “If it’s not a problem, I kinda wanna be alone right now.” Obligated to end the conversation with you, she spoke very dismissively, hoping you would take the hint and leave her be.

“Right, sorry for disturbing you.” You brushed her off with a firm head nod and got up to leave. But before you left, you stopped mid-track turning back towards her, “I’m over there,” pointing towards a horde of young kids, who seems to be playing numerous activities as her eyesight follows your finger.

“In case you wanted to chat. It looks like you need a friend.” You advised her before taking your leave.

As Shuri watches your figure in the distance become smaller, her lips transform into a tiny smile at the thought of your sincere words to her, despite never acknowledging her before. This was the kindest that a stranger had ever been so nice to her and she treasured it.

Shuri didn’t know you but you did know her. You were a close friend of Nakia and when T’Challa was around, the couple trusted you enough to tell you about the royal family and its members.

The princess was everything that you expected. Nothing more and absolutely nothing less. She was exceptionally stunning, both facial features and body physique, and that accent was….just so sexy.

When your body frame disappeared into the crowd of children, Shuri pondered on your kind suggestion, it was deemed healthy to create new friendships, so why not give it a shot?

Contemplating her decision, if she stayed alone it was eventually going to become tedious, and besides, you were allegedly interesting enough to spark up another conversation with.

Getting up from the log and dusting herself off, she strolled towards the west side of the beach to be met with a group of eager kids.

Shuri realized that you were nowhere to be seen and unknowingly a frown etched upon her face. A few children gathered around Shuri, curious about the newcomer’s whereabouts.

Amongst the children stood her nephew, Toussaint, and his vibrant smile catches onto his aunt’s. He swiftly ran up to her, tugging onto her hand and dragging her towards a cool shaded area. Without saying anything else, Touissant left the two to talk in private.

“I didn’t think that you would have taken up on my offer.” You persisted, chewing on the last of your watermelon.

“Well, I gave you the benefit of the doubt.” She chuckles lightly before pointing at the free chair, her eyebrows mildly arched. “Can I sit here?” You nodded, allowing her to sit on the lounge chair next to you. Once, she had planted herself in the chair, a cold icy pina colada was handed to her.

Taking the cold drink with a soft chuckle and radiant smile, “Cheers.” You delicately clinked your glasses together and began drinking the sweet cold cocktail.

“I’m Shuri.” She introduced herself.

“And I’m [name].” You greeted the girl beside you with a small grin. Soon enough, with you being an easy listener, Shuri gained the confidence to resume the conversation.

Toussaint had finished preparing a necklace for his new aunt and wanted to give her a welcome-home gift.

The neck jewelry consisted of shells with different varieties of shapes, colors, and sizes which were strung along by a thin piece of silver thread.

He got up from the table and ran towards his mother who was supervising the other children alongside a few other adults. “Hey, mama, can I give this to aunt Shuri? I made it just for her.” With a crooked smile, he dangled the handmade necklace in front of Nakia’s face.

“Of course, my son.” They headed to the secluded area where you and Shuri were currently occupying.

Nakia stopped her son with a halt of her hand. “Wait until later, your aunt appears to be busy at the moment.” The young boy follows his mother’s perception, landing on you and Shuri giggling at one of her jokes while snacking on daiquiris and watermelon.

The two seemed to be deeply engrossed in their conversation, simultaneously having inquiries for the other, recalling funny memories and whatnots.

It was only when Shuri removed her eyes from you, she spotted the young black boy staring intensely back at the duo. The princess beckoned her relative over with a vibrant grin and the boy staggers over to the two of you.

“Do you seem to be having a good time, aunty?” He asked his aunt, switching his eyesight between the two women in front of him, yearning to see who would reply first.

Locking her doe chestnut eyes adoringly reflecting on you, “I’m having a splendid time, to be exact.” Shuri beamed at her nephew who was mirroring a smile as well.

Nakia’s voice broke the calm atmosphere as she shouted at her son. “Toussaint, I told you to leave your aunt alone.”

Upon hearing his mother’s outburst, he slightly winced at the tone and began to rush off but, briefly, he stopped turning back around and tossed the necklace to Shuri to catch before sprinting off into the sea.

Both of you laugh at the boy’s antics, observing how well he blended in with the young children who were having a blast in the shallow water.

Adventurous and intelligent at a young age were definitely Shuri’s characteristics.

Maybe, moving to Haiti was the smartest thing that she’d ever done. Not that she’s admitting that tiny detail to anyone. Needless to say, T’Challa described Haiti as a home away from home, and he couldn’t have been more correct, the nostalgia was similar. The culture, food, and beliefs were all spectacular and unique.

Deep in thought, Shuri observed your mouth, drowning out your voice causing it to become unintelligible.

“Did you hear what I said, Shuri?” Bewildered by your sudden realization of her stupor and she quickly regains her composure trying to conceal her embarrassment after being caught. “Yeah, [name], I’m fine. What were you saying?”

You hum a smile as you finished your sentence and Shuri attentively complies, her countenance shows that she’s genuinely interested in whatever comes out of your mouth.

Yeah, the princess could surely get used to interacting with the alluring woman before her.

That was 7 ½ months ago and your friendship with the princess became stronger and more open. Even brought up the topic of your teen pregnancy nevertheless, Shuri accepted your rough teen years and even met the young ones.

Later on, the friendship developed into something better. Quite frankly, a romantic relationship in which, at the time, Shuri needed a friend, and you were exactly that to her but after spending hardcore intimacy with you, she knew that she had to make you hers.

Although you two were practically adults, you made Shuri promise to keep your relationship a secret from your children. It wasn’t for the wrong reasons at all. You deeply loved Shuri and wouldn’t want her to make her feel remorse for meeting you.

She was your sweet adoring girlfriend. Of course, you wanted to share that with your kids.

It’s just that…you’re worried that your twins are going to take it the wrong way. To say that you despised their father was a massive understatement, he disappeared when you told him and popped out of nowhere during their 1st birthday. Since you didn’t want to be viewed as the bad mother by your kids, you allowed Jamal to meet his kids.

Regardless of that matter at bay, you were at Nakia’s house in Shuri’s room doing some extracurricular activities. Nakia and Toussaint were out running errands and Shuri decided to seize the opportunity to an empty home, your girlfriend was always a brilliant one.

“You are truly breathtaking, my love.” Shuri pants, her head hitting the pillow as she slowly tries to regain her composure as beads of sweat cascade down her forehead. “And that was– how did you manage to even form that position?” For once in her life, she was puzzled. The smartest woman alive was clueless for the first time and science couldn’t have given her a reliable answer.

You smiled, snuggling farther into her warm embrace. “I took gymnastics since I was five, so it sticks with me.” Placing your head onto her chest as her fingers weaved through your knotless braids, content with you being closely in her arms.

“Ahhh…” The princess hums appreciatively. “My love, do you think that we have enough time to cuddle?” She questioned you, her eyes planted downward at you.

Looking up towards your sweet girlfriend, who has plastered on a cheeky smile, waiting for a response. “You’re in charge, aren’t you? Why don’t you tell me?” You smirked, and the lustful banter became unreleased, as you sultry moved from her waist and upward to her face.

You did know how to drive her crazy and, trust me, she loves it.

Raising her eyebrows in the query as she leaned in, her lips sweetly passionately greeted yours, just soft-hearted adoration, leaving zero space for hot pulsating desire.

Raising her eyebrows in the query as she leaned in, her lips sweetly passionately greeted yours, just soft-hearted adoration, leaving zero space for hot pulsating desire.

Just then, your phone rang interrupting your fervent makeout, causing Shuri to groan into the crook of your neck. “Just ignore it, sweetheart.” So you did and Shuri’s lips were back on yours without hesitation. Her hands were everywhere as they picked you up and adjusted you on her lap, the kiss becoming ravenous by the minute.

Even if you wanted to answer the call, your girlfriend was persistent about having you in her arms tonight, and how could you refuse that great opportunity?

Humming along to a random melody as you raked your fingers through her luxurious curls as your girlfriend listened intently to your heartbeat. These were the times that Shuri wish she could never stop if she ever had the power, just to freeze time and stay in the moment.

Your phone chirping up a message ruined the calmful aura, as you leaned over to grab your phone from the nightstand and read over the message. But glorious moments must always come to an end, don’t they all?

“That’s my sister, I have to go.” You frowned, irritated at your shortened quality time with her. Your girlfriend lets out a sigh of defeat as she begrudgingly removes herself from your loving embrace, watching you bounce off the bed and towards the mirror.

Soon enough, two arms slid sneakily around your waist and a chin is placed on your shoulder causing your frown to disperse into a warm smile of admiration for the girl in the mirror.

She knows your every weakness, and you knew hers. You two were a match made in heaven and Shuri wants everyone to know it as well.

“C’mon sthandwa sami, just stay for a little longer.” She persuades, littering your neck with wet kisses as her maze of curls tickles your cheeks. She knew damn well that neck kisses were your soft spot, but, surprisingly, you were stronger today and denied her advances, no matter how sexy and tempting they were.

“My sister has her date tonight so she can’t watch the kids, I’m sorry, baby.” You apologized, connecting her saddened eyes with your sorrowful beady ones, seeing her lips detached from your soft brown skin as her electrifying touch vanishes.

You had hardly seen your lover for the past few weeks due to your nosy ex always surprisingly showing on your doorstep with the same old excuse:

“I’m here for Kayden and Karina.”

It was a douchebag move, to be honest, using your children as an excuse to regain empathy with old lovers, could he be more pathetic?

Shuri was aware of Jamal’s advances on you and jealousy would consume her entire being, constantly she tried to hide it but you knew that the princess wasn’t a good liar at all.

Luckily, your girlfriend wasn’t a grudge holder and you would often reward her for being so grateful, which resulted in you between her thighs. In her opinion, she would rather give than receive, just to remind you daily, who you belonged to, so it’s a win-win either way.

“Of course, dearest, I mustn’t stop you.” Her playful facade seemingly disappears as her fingers gently brush across your ebony skin whilst tucking a few braids that were in her way. Reassuringly, her fingers began to re-hook your bra.

Once the last hook was completed, she manages eye contact with you in the mirror as the curves of her lips tug into a mischievous smile, her head tilting to the right slightly. “Although you seemed to be forgetting something.”

What was your girlfriend up to now?

Turning your head towards her, confused and curious as to what you could be supposedly missing. Your phone was in your purse, you weren’t wearing any of her belongings as of right now. Unless she probably meant the kimoyo beads that she gifted you on your fifth date. “Darling, what could I possibly for–“ In an instant, her lips were on yours as her hand softly caresses your face, a smile crept upon her face once she realized that she had you trapped.

“Hayi, mntwana wam. uyayazi nyani indlela yokundimangalisa.” ( “Damn, baby. You really know how to take me by surprise.” ) You spoke in between kisses, keeping the connection of your lips together.

Towering down over you as a smirk taunts her lips, “Seems like you’ve been learning your Xhosa a lot, didn’t you dearest?”

Her lips lingered on yours as you released a shaky breath and she pulls away with a satisfied grin, “Now you have everything.” Sauntering away from you, she tosses your shirt and jumps back on the bed.

That little tease surely likes to play the long game.

You focused your attention back on getting dressed before Shuri came up with any more ideas into seducing you to spend the night.

Your girlfriend was unusually quiet for the remainder of the night, fully aware that Shuri would talk whenever she had any given chance. By the time you were leaving, she shuffled awkwardly on her bed. “Do you think that I can meet your children anytime soon?” She hesitantly asked, her tone implying that she ruminated on this question for a couple of weeks, if so, maybe even months. “Like us as a couple since they only know me as your friend.”

Her question left you perplexed, it was an out-of-the-blue kind of question. You never discussed your kids that much with Shuri, so what was with the sudden question? Shuri was never the kind to beat around the bush, always out with the cold direct honesty, so you assumed that you’d be accustomed to her sharp mouth.

It was certainly a big step in your relationship and Shuri wanted to experience it, already envisioning creating a family with you.

Your children were the proportion so she just needed your confirmation, and she was determined on getting your permission.

The colossal extent of silence gave her the wrong indication as she hurriedly got up from the bed, rushed towards you and held her hands in yours. “Just ignore what I said. I realized that I was overstepping boundaries and didn’t want to make things more awkward.” It was frequent for Shuri to morph from cute into nervous in a matter of seconds, mainly you being the purpose.

Oh, there were numerous times when Shuri would unintentionally freeze up and become a flustering mess because of you, but that’s a story for another day.

You insisted, squeezing her knuckles tenderly as her beautiful eyes poured deeply into yours. “How about tomorrow night? We have dinner at my house, I’ll cook them their favorite and we break it down to them gently.”

“Really?” Her eyes glistened with passion. You’ve both been open in the relationship, expressing your love for one another, making it seemingly easy to understand each other.

“Hell yeah.” You grinned at your lovesick girlfriend. “I’ve been meaning to talk about telling my kids about our relationship but I couldn’t just find the right time.” In fact, you were beyond ecstatic, that Shuri was comfortable enough to discuss your kids about your dating status.

Besides what could go wrong? Your charismatic girlfriend and your two loving kids stuck in the same room, well…in the same house, if we’re being technical. Will it be a waiting disaster or a winning success? Only tomorrow will tell, and, god, you only hope that it all goes according to plan.

© asvterias, 2022. please do not plagiarize any of my works.

[blogofloathing]

Part 2 of 2!! Short Story But With More To Come! The Shadow Has Its Claws Quite Deep Doesn't It

As the hours passed by she thought she might simply die here, at her workbench, building.

And building, and building, it seemed as if the shadows demands never ended, always more.

Simone sat on the brink of losing all hope, putting her head down, and just letting this beast carry out whatever awful fate it had in mind for her.

Let it seperate the bones from her skin, or drain her blood or do whatever horrible things it had planned, she just wanted it to be over.

"I'm sorry Victoria.." she breathed out in a lilting whisper, letting the wrench hit the floor, dropped carelessly, weightlessly, from her well worn out hands, and carpal tunneled wrists

Simone could feel the growing rage of her captor, the bubbling simmer of the universes melting pot,

Closing in around her, snuffing all the air out of the room, stray bubbles escaping Simone's lungs.

It's sickly black appendages constricting the blood throughout her entire body, in a maladroit grip, one which wouldn't leave any bruises, while being as painful as possible for the poor mechanic.

Though she noticed that even in this vacuum, she didn't suffocate, oddly enough she seemed..

The door to her workshop flung open with a shudder, as if the door itself was surprised.

And none other than Victoria Martinez walked through, stumbling in like a tumbleweed.

Fresh scrapes visible on her torn through knees.

something less than a gasp sounded in Simone's head as the shadow seemed to lift from her, fleeing through the cracks in the walls and floors.

Her multi-handed clock laying at rest, though it's time wasn't any more correct than before

Coward, she thought, now allowed to do so freely.

"Hey! Simone! The hell are ya doin in the dark this early?" She couldn't have known that Simone had been there since yesterday afternoon.

The Irish goodbye of her tormentor left Simone's skin feeling empty, as if the shadow had filled in the space between each blood vessel.

Her heavy breathing going unnoticed by the scraggly girl, and as expected, no marks.

"I, I'm just busy, Victoria.." she said, trying not to snap at her, it wasn't her fault, Simone knew.

"Awww too busy for a piece of ol' Viccy M?" She flung back, Simone let the little jab fly past.

Victoria was about to send another snarky remark her way, but the silence seemed to have set off whatever remained of this girls social awareness.

Evidently the situation was more serious than it seemed to her, not like she could understand it really, but it wasn't a time for their back and forth.

"Hey uh, look I see you're.. busy, want me to just.. come back later eh?" She handed her, the tone carrying a much kinder cadence than before.

Simone held a rye smile, something in this girl made the shadow nervous,

maybe she made the right choice in keeping her around, nuisance as she was.

She couldn't stand her, but, she couldn't stay away

She'd even say she hated her, but, she couldn't, it wasn't what she was used to

Not the way she felt about friends, or family, or a crush, she felt something new for this stupid girl and it made her manic.

What in the world was within this girl that set her off so badly, she hated it, and yet she loved it

This paradox of emotion rendering her oblivious to everything else, seeing as Victoria had already made it halfway to the door, before she made a full re entry back to earth.

As the girl reached for the door handle a sudden terror gripped Simone, her only salvation was about to walk out that door, how could she have ever even considered making Victoria leave.

Surely the shadow would kill her once she left, this was her ticket to safety, and she was letting it go.

Expelling this notion in a desperate "No!" Followed quickly with a much quieter, "p-please stay.."

A sly smirk stretched across the dusty girls face, seems Simone couldn't possibly bear to see such a pretty face leave hm? She giggled to herself.

Walking back over with a skip to her step, which nearly sent her tripping over Simone's machine,

"Well why dontcha get out of this rust bucket-" Simone mentally cutting her off with like the bridge you sleep under? But keeping it to herself.

"And into a more comfy seat eh? I know you got those fancy chairs rich folks got" Victoria teased, "I'm not rich Viccy and beanbags are not fancy"

But despite her annoyed tone, and to an outsider their seeming like a match made right in hell.

Simone couldn't imagine a better way to spend her morning, this silly girl was smarter than her.

Cause she knew just what to say, without even thinking, to make her forget all about her worries.

"Now ya gonna tell me about your latest updates to the project?" Victoria inquired, the hand on her shoulder made Simone wince slightly,

She considered for a moment, but smiling shortly, she sighed "nah, that can wait"

"Heh, who is this girl next to me right now? It can wait?" She teased the uncouthness.

"Wanna go out for drinks? I'm technically banned from Hazel's Place but I could try-"

"Lets just stay inside for the day" Simone offered bluntly, though she knew she'd say yes.

"Way ahead of ya sister" Victoria flicked at her, already plopped down in a red beanbag.

Making her giggle softly, "claimed your territory?" She pointed at the squishy seat.

"Hell yeah I did! Tis mine oh fair Simone" spoken in a mock accent of some kind she couldn't discern.

Sauntering over dramatically to the blue beanbag chair, Simone questioned facetiously "oh my good lady is this seat taken by anywhomst?"

The two snickered under their breath "oh well I say it is open for only the fairest dame"

"Well well Misses Inquisitor, what's your verdict?" Simone struggling to keep a straight face.

"By jove! I do believe ye to be the fairest of them all! Take a seat right away your majesty!"

"Thank you thank you" Simone mimed waving off an audience, kissing an invisible hand.

"Find your seat alright madam?" Victoria flitted, before the pair couldn't handle it any longer and burst open into laughter,

"This is so stupid" Victoria sniggered in between raucous bleats of mirth.

Faces changing colors kaleidoscopically with each hearty expression.

The two sat side by side but still had to hold one another for support.

"That accent sounds awful!" Simone giggled, "it's so bad Victoria!"

"Hey I've been practicin alright! Cut me some slack" she retorted.

"What is that even supposed to sound like!?" And Victoria just laughed.

After several moments of uncontrollable hysterics, the din calmed down

Their lungs and faces recovering from the strain

"Ahh ahh" Victoria breathed, trying desperately to regain some semblance of normalcy in her tone

Everytime the duo hung out it felt like her smile muscles got given a delightfully grueling work out.

"Well I think my accent is getting better," she bragged, though it really wasn't any more accurate than it had been the several other times she'd tried.

Turning to face Simone to further show off "Yours was pretty good too but I think-" she began

Before quickly shushing at the sight before her, Simone Chekhov of the S.I.T Robotechtronics Department, sound asleep next to her.

She hadn't even noticed in all of the commotion. Had she really been here all night..?

Her eyes tentatively traced over the sleeping girl.

Simone didn't snore, quiet as she was in waking this just made sense, and she twitched oddly in her sleep, probably dreaming of power tools or sheets of metal, thought Victoria humorously.

But, of especial import, In her somnambulant state she had laid right up against the now flustered hobo girls shoulder.

Resting on Victoria like a pillow, with no hint of discomfort on her round face.

It almost looked like she was clinging to her for protection in the dream world.

She didn't dare move, risk waking her up, Simone looked so peaceful like this, and so pretty too.

Eyes shut softly, mouth just slightly agape as she breathed quietly.

Hair falling over her figure in an almost deliberate way, Victoria could see the folds in her clothes, the stray freckles that dotted only parts of her.

She noticed every detail, as if the bespectacled girl glowed in the stray beams that shone through the dusty windows.

Victoria marveled at Simone, something about her was like a goddess..

"Gosh" she uttered almost inaudibly, shaking her head like a wet dog to be freed from these unfamiliar thoughts.

She didn't bother going to grab a blanket, simply outstretching her arm and letting herself drift off too, with Simone.

Careful to make each action as unobtrusive as possible for her.

And as she embraced the smaller girl, her rest seemed to grow even more tranquil

Like her presence had brought curtains to some unfortunate performance in her head.

Maybe they'll have the same dream, she thought briefly, before the comfort of the scene took her, away into sleep.

Part 2 of 2 END! Of Simone's Story For Now! More To Come! Seems The Two Comfort Each Other

[thequietmanno1]

Thelreads, MHA 262, Replies Part 1

1) “Anyway, my hero academia, right? right. Miruko died last time? Not yet? Alright, okay, so I`m back to where we left. Let`s see if this is the chapter where the reign of terror of the Bunny shall finally meet it`s end.”- If anything, this chapter demonstrates very firmly that Mirko will only meet her end by going the way of the black knight – and even then, only after she’s bitten off all her opponent’s vital pieces with what remains of her head.

2) “Oh hey look, it`s Fat Nomu, right? Apparently facing my old daily struggle of commuting to work by bus. I think this Nomu already died and its on hell.“- If we’re being technical, all Nomu are technically revived bodies, remodelled and warped beyond the limits of humanity to suit their increased powers, being brought to the brink of death and then rebuilt from that into a stronger form, to the point that it’s purely academic which of them were still alive when Garaki started cutting into them and which were deceased bodies frankensteined into life once more, like Shirakumo. At the very least, it seems like the High-End Nomus were living ‘volunteers’ for the experiments, hence why they keep their higher brain functions, but with their current state of being, it’s not a hard stretch to say they’re revenants of their former selves in enhanced cadavers. 3) “It`s too late already Crush, she`s already massacring the Nomus, we weren`t able to stop her- God help us, we weren`t able to stop her…”- One down, three to go. She’s not trapped in there with them, they’re trapped in there with her. 4) “Now tell me Crush, how do you expect them to go help the bunny if you`re keeping the dummy thicc Nomu stuck in there? It will take too long for them to go find another route.”- Given how they’re cutting into the floors and ceiling for purchase, I guess he’s trying to ‘grow’ the shields big and long enough to overpower the Fat Nomu’s mass and push him back into the lab with his expansion properties. Shame that Fat Nomu’s got enough junk in the trunk to make that a strenuous task even with the force his shields can produce. 5) “Goddammit Horikoshi, was there a need to pad this chapter or something? Just crush the Crush and get back to Mirko already, we want to see her gruesome ending.

Was there a break between chapters long enough that people would forget what a Nomu is and the different categories or something?”- I think the last active Nomu we saw in-series was Hood during his fight with Endeavour, about 70-ish chapters ago, so it has actually been a long time since the Nomu and the various categories of difficulty came into play. Plus, despite him being ridiculously powerful with multiple quirks and intelligence, we didn’t get much of an inside perspective of what precisely made the High-Ends so different and unique from the rest of the chaff, so Garaki’s getting his exposition in before Mirko’s finished tearing apart the rest of the High-Ends and rendering his lecturing useless. 6) “Do they exhibit their personality? Now that one I`m not entirely sure, since Kurogiri isn`t strutting around with his ass out like the original body. I thought it was more like they programmed those personalities on them- okay maybe we didn`t knew everything that there was to know about them.”- They exhibit variations of their original personality traits- mainly the basic ones, the parts of themselves that most readily came to the forefront when interacting with others. Hood was a brawler, and the one concept his fractured mental state held onto was finding strong opponents to fight with and ‘prove’ himself until his brain couldn’t take the strain of it. Shirakumo’s caring nature for others became Kurogiri’s main personality trait, even if it was warped by inbuilt loyalty to All For One’s orders. It seemed like Kurogiri was caring for Tomura because he was ordered to, but in actuality, it was because Shirakumo was somebody who cared for others and paid attention to their needs that he was put into double-duty as Tomura’s nanny and escape pod. In fact, despite the remodelling done, Shirakumo was able to fight off the brainwashing a little to give the heroes to ‘hospital’ clue, showing that the base personality does still exist underneath all the conditioning that Garaki implants into them. It’s precisely because of that they he had to select violent, bloodthirsty villains in a similar category to Muscular to make the High-Ends, so that even if the conditioning wasn’t perfect on them, their base mentality would still be that of a fight-happy monster anyway. 7) “Huh, I see… I was about to say how lucky they were that all the High-ends were bloodthirsty lunatics, but yeah it would make sense for them to pick this exact personality type. I bet they handpicked them from Naruhuta, where Koichi lives. That place is a den of psychos.”- It also means we don’t need to feel too bad about the heroes violently killing these Nomu, even if they’re fully sentient. Hood somewhat got a pass because he lost his mentality just before Endeavour put him down, but killing thinking, speaking beings is still a step removed from being a truly heroic act, even if it’s necessary. Garaki’s little rant here is more or less Horikoshi telling us not to feel too conflicted over Mirko stomping them into paste whilst they beg for mercy, because they’re already hardened killers with several sins underneath their belts. 8) “But again, I`m more terrified by the fact that, as we already knew, the Doc found a way to clone and transplant quirks even without AfO around. I still am horrified since we first got to know about this, I can`t wrap my head around what sort of nightmarish things he has been doing to get the same results.”- I’m very interested in how he’s been able to procure the samples necessary to duplicate quirks in the first place, since it’s pretty clear Muscular never had any direct interactions with him, due to the extreme need for secrecy regarding his true identity, yet somehow Garaki was able to duplicate and implant his muscle fiber quirk into Hood. If he can do it from something as simple as a blood sample, then we really need to be fearful of the potential dangers of his stockpile of quirks, and how many of them he’s already implanted into Shigaraki whilst he was in stasis. 9) “OH MY FUCKING GOD HORIKOSHI- THAT ONE WAS DARK. REALLY DARK. I LAUGHED BUT I FEEL HORRIBLE AFTER DOING SO”- Again, just Horikoshi letting the readers know we don’t need to feel too bad over Mirko pancaking both Mocha and johnny, since they were basically dead already and she was just putting them out of their existential misery. 10) “And so, the moment is upon us. The Symbol of Death is about to wake from its slumber…

He is coming.

God help us all”- God’s not here, but the devil’s always listening… 11) “Oh jesus that`s such a deranged and maniacal look on her face, I loved it.”-

The Readers and the watching High-Ends: ‘…I am both scared and aroused at the same time…’

12) “I love how even the Nomus are creeped out by Mirko, specially “Woman”. That Nomu is like “bro, what the fuck is up with that?””- They thought they were the boss fight. Now they’re realising they’re just the NPC mooks that get crushed to show off the boss’ strength. 13) “Oh- here she goes again! Time for more violence to take place!”- Extreme violence, both given and taken by the bunny of doom. 14) “holy shit girl- but yeah it is what I would`ve expected from her by now. Those legs are like some nuclear spring-pistons, the destruction she can cause just by jumping is almost at All Might-levels.”- People are always comparing her to Bakugou because of her attitude and saying she’d be a great hero for him to intern under for a bit, but I honestly think Deku would benefit a lot with his mobility-based kick style from some lessons with her…assuming her can survive the experience. 15) “Sorry guys, the bunny has more important blood to spill right now, but she promises to be back to murderize all of you as soon as she`s doing turning the Doc into a splatter on the wall.”- Sadly for them, the High-Ends didn’t want to wait their turn, so they forced Mirko to prioritise smashing them first before turning her bloodthirstiness into the doctor. @thelreads​

[fandomvariousness]

Finally

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of violence & death, nsfw content

Summary: reader finally sees her lover Eren after the team retrieves him to the airship, yet he’s not the same. Will she bring him back?

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: Forgive me if some details are inaccurate, this is my rendering of the situation, so some things may not add up!

Finally.

Finally, the day you’re going to see Eren again.

You shivered with anticipation, thinking about the letters that were going sparse, until there were none. You’ve been inseparable, supporting each other every step of the way, but Eren had to deal with unthinkable, horrible things along the same steps too, and you couldn’t take all of it away – the burning hatred seeped into his brain, numbing his senses and compassion.

He offered no explanation in letters as to why he’d stopped writing so often, and you didn’t ask for one – he’s in enemy’s land, surely he has his reasons, but deep down you knew he was pushing you away.

What were you going to say to him? Will you hug him? Will he hug you? You had no idea, and it was killing you.

Your adrenaline was over the roof. Everything around you was destroyed, splintered, ground to pieces – Eren did that.

It seemed that you lost it when you realized that Eren had transformed without the care of hurting innocent civilians – his sense of revenge was stronger than anything else. You haven’t been able to approach him yet, to look into his mesmerizing jade eyes. You suspected Captain Levi has positioned you away from him on purpose – who knows how you and Eren would’ve reacted to each other’s presence after so long.

You felt the insides of your stomach turn as you hooked your cables on the airship and zipped-lined towards it. Just a minute ago you saw how Mikasa made it inside, dragging Eren along. You heard a commotion above you – Captain Levi was cussing Eren out. The casual.

You felt how everyone stopped whatever they were doing as you were climbing on board – secretly, they all wanted to know what will happen once you two meet again. That’s how powerful you two are. Were.

Out of breath, you stood up, regaining your posture, your rifle still in hands as you finally looked at him: if not for the emerald sheen of his eyes, you wouldn’t have recognized this ragged, miserable man with a chestnut resembling that of a lion.

You stared into each other, the unbearable grief that consumed you rendering you immobile. Quickly, your vision worsened, tears blurring your eyes as you realized there’s nothing behind those of Eren. He looks at you, yet doesn’t say anything, doesn’t feel anything.

“Move,” Captain Levi muttered and lightly pushed you aside.

You tore your gaze away from Eren, breathing shallow breaths as you stumbled towards the wall, leaning on it.

And then you heard the shot.

~

It was unbearable. One fleeting moment, one slightest miscalculation, and she’s gone. Sasha is gone.

You kneeled beside her tomb with your head hanging down, hot teardrops sinking into the pale stone. Everything was always shit, but now… now it’s pure hell. You sobbed and raised your head to look at the cloudy sky, cutting off the air flow, trying to pull yourself together.

“Hey,” Jean approached you, Connie not far behind. “Come here.”

He crouched down to your level and placed his palms on your shoulders reassuringly, helping you stand up.

Eren was nowhere to be seen. He kept to himself in his quarters, but Captain Levi forbid anyone to properly visit him anyway. He thought Eren’s unstable.

But you thought the opposite. Eren’s perfectly stable – the deadly precision, calculation and determination fueled his conscious, revenge-fueled decisions, and frankly, you were afraid. He wasn’t thrashing around like he would years ago, screaming and tearing everything apart, consumed by fury – he knew what he was doing now.

The last time you laid eyes on him was during Sasha’s funeral, but it seemed that he wasn’t even there. His body was, of course, but his mind was fleeting somewhere else, somewhere where he could continue plotting the utter extermination of every last one of his enemies.

It’s going to be hard, bringing him back. Hell, you didn’t even know if it’s possible – he truly looked like a goner. But you were going to try, because there isn’t any other living being in the world you love more than Eren Jaeger.

~

You sat on your bed, facing the one that belonged to Sasha. She would tell you to stand up and go straight to Eren and whoop his ass for ignoring you.

You sank your teeth in your lower lip as you stood up and made your way towards Captain Levi’s office.

“Come in,” his low voice muttered after you knocked. He rolled his eyes when he saw it’s you.

“What is it?” he asked, his desk already stuffed with a bunch of paperwork.

“I need to visit Eren.” you realized how selfish your request sounds in the midst of everything, but you couldn’t help it.

“No.” he answered after a few seconds of regarding you, without any care in the world. “You’ll just wind him up.”

Your heart skipped a beat – if Captain Levi thought that Eren still feels something for you, then maybe it’s true.

“Please, Captain, I –”

“Stop whining, brat.” he hissed, silencing you.

There was a wall of miscommunication between the two of you as you stared at each other, trying to convince one another silently.

He put down his pen after a few moments and leaned back in his chair as he sighed slowly. “You’re gonna do it anyway, aren’t you?”

You shrugged ever so slightly as you stared at nothing in particular.

Some more silence passed. “I’ve not yet decided on giving you week’s-worth punishment for insubordination, but go. Get out.”

“Thank you, Captain.” you bowed your head to him quickly, suppressing your smile as you basically ran away.

Levi rubbed his forehead. “Stupid brats.”

~

As you approached the door of Eren’s room, your heart pounded against your ribs so hard, you truly thought they’re going to crack. Yet here you were, standing within a step from the door, eyeing the little crack of light that emits from within – it’s not completely closed.

You lifted your trembling arm and knocked softly, then once again, harder this time, thinking he may not have heard it.

“Eren?” you whispered weakly after you got no reply once again.

You gulped and pushed the door further, stepping in – empty. He’s not here.

You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you stepped further, looking around. The whole room looked almost untouched if not for the sack of a few items he brought from his old room. Your eyes flicked towards a stack of letters on the desk – your letters.

Your lower lip quivered as you approached them, picking one up – not even opened.

Pain and anger spun like a vortex inside you, bringing hot tears to your eyes. How important must’ve been the reason that he denied you the slightest explanation?

The letter dropped back to the desk as you flinched, hearing the door shut behind you.

Gasping quietly, you turned around, seeing him clearly for the first time since a couple of days ago. He stood there in all his cool, newfound glory: hair long enough to be messily gathered in a bun, naked torso adorned with chiseled abs, V line protruding from his waistline, and pants that hugged his muscular legs.

He had a toweled hanging over his shoulder – that’s where he’s been, in the showers.

You didn’t know what was the exact reason for the hot blush that crept to your face in a second – the fact that Eren is even more attractive than you remember, or that you stood there like a mute, with your jaw basically on the floor.

His own gaze was unreadable – he watched you like a hawk as he approached the chair and draped the towel over its back, stuffing his hands in his pockets afterwards.

You snapped awake, glancing at the letters behind you, and then back at him. “You never opened them.”

“You need to forget me,” he spoke, staring directly in your eyes. “I’ve only have a few years left anyway, if I’m lucky.”

It hurt you how assured of his words he was as you turned your body from him, desperately trying to calm down. He stood there just the same when you dared to look at him again.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, failing to conceal the tremble that laced your voice. “I’ve told you countless times, I’m with you until the end, and even then.”

“That’s exactly why.” he raised his voice just a bit, reminding of the old Eren you used to know. “I can’t bear the fact that you’re okay with… all this.”

You covered your face with your palms momentarily before stepping a couple of steps closer to him. “Did you honestly think I’ll go down with this scheme of yours?”

“I’m determined to make it happen.”

“Eren, don’t be stupid!” you couldn’t control yourself anymore. “I’m not some… weak maiden in need of constant attention! I’m your partner!”

“You want to be partner of the monster that I am?” he asked, a faint hint of disappointment in his voice.

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Eren…”

“I’m a murderer.” he said as he lessened the space between you a little more, trying to impose his truth on you – you could almost feel his breath on your skin, what made another shiver run down your spine.

You opened your eyes abruptly, because you knew he expected that you won’t be able to even look at him after what he’s done. His jade eyes were the same as before as you drowned in them.

You couldn’t help as you placed your dainty palms on his ripped upper arms, the tips of your fingers jolting with electricity. Eren felt that too, for you heard him draw in a sharp breath.

You were going to say something, but right now you couldn’t focus on anything other than your skins touching again, after all this time. You gulped as you gathered courage to lightly stroke down to his forearms.

“You’re not a monster.” you spoke again. “You’re just a hurt boy who can’t help but hurt others.”

He stayed silent, because he knew it’s true. You always did this to him – always had one last argument that made him shut up. His eyes became glassy as he looked down in shame, gripping your own forearms in his calloused palms.

“Come here,” you mumbled as you wound your arms around his neck, cradling him, as his own arms snaked around your waist, head buried in the crook of your neck.

You were only hugging, but it felt ecstatic. You gripped him tightly, swearing to yourself never to let go again. You felt a few wet drops run down your shoulder, yet Eren didn’t release a sound – you knew he was holding back.

“I’m sorry for everything.” he whispered. “You don’t deserve this.”

“Eren, you’re never getting rid of me.” you whispered into his hair before planting a tender kiss on his head.

He released a breathy laugh, tickling your neck. You nuzzled into each other more, and then you felt his lips on your neck, pecking it lightly, immediately blazing flames in your lower region.

You arched your neck back, providing him with an easier access to your skin. You couldn’t suppress a small gasp as his hot breath trailed up to your jaw, along with his longing-filled kisses.

“I missed you.” he whispered against your jaw, before pecking just below the corner of your lips.

Your mind was already in shambles. “Believe me, I missed you more.”

Your lips finally collided: desperate, needy, hungry. His fingers dug into your hips, aligning your centers as your palms slid down to the either side of his neck. You moaned into his lips between the famished, open-mouthed kisses as he gripped your behind, trying to savor it all.

Your palms were running down his chest on their own, exploring every crevice and scar, some old and some new, still unexplored. You felt his hand slide under the hem of your shirt up to your ribs, leaving a scalding-hot trail in its wake.

You rutted your hips against his automatically, getting needier with every passing second, your hands hooked around his neck again, holding on for dear life.

Your jaw slacked as he sneaked his hand under your bra, his fingers coming in contact with your hardened nipple. He drew back a little so that he could see your flushed face and hazy eyes, a light sheen of saliva reflecting from your slightly lolled out tongue.

“More, you say? Just how much?” he teased, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips repeatedly, the corners of his lips upturned ever so slightly.

“Really, really much,” you whimpered before he discarded you of your shirt and bra, his hands roaming down your sides as he sucked on your jugular, your hands buried in his hair, ruining his bun.

“Jump.” he said between the wet kisses as you felt his hands under your thighs.

He made his way towards the bed before gently dropping you down on it, feeling the tent in his pants become unbearable, almost painful. How could it not, when you lay sprawled out under him, hair messy around your head like a halo, all the while needy breaths escaping your lips?

You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but you wanted to drive him crazy, to make up for all the painful time you’ve spent apart. You started wriggling out of your leggings, your gaze never leaving his eyes. He unbuttoned his own pants before they slid to the ground, revealing a formed tent under his boxers.

Suddenly, he grabbed you by your calves and yanked you closer, forcing a yelp from you. Second after his lips crashed on yours again, making their way down, passing your neck, collarbones, stomach, until they reached their destination.

You found it hard to breathe as he kissed your inner tight, getting closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Eren,” you whimpered, your eyes closed, hands gripping the sheets. “Please…”

You felt him smile against your thigh before his tongue flicked against your clothed clit lightly, coaxing another high-pitched moan from you.

You put the back of your hand against your mouth quickly, embarrassed at the sudden reaction. You felt the bed shift before you opened your eyes and saw him parallel with your own body again.

“Don’t,” he asked as he removed your arm from your face. “I want to hear every little sound you make.”

He kissed you once before making his way back, hooking his fingers on your panties and sliding them down painfully slowly. The cold air on your skin peppered it with goosebumps, yet when you felt Eren’s face lower to your center, your body ignited once again.

A moan got stuck in your throat as you felt Eren’s slick tongue go all the way from your entrance to your clit, circling it, literally driving you crazy.

“Eren,” you moaned, the back of your head buried into the mattress as you wound your hands through his hair, completely ruining the bun, his chestnut hair falling to the sides and framing his face.

His fingers dug into your thighs as he pleasured you with his tongue, awakening the passion in you that was dormant during his absence.

Eren loved the taste of you on his tongue as he sucked on you, holding down your squirming hips. He knew you were close; he remembers everything your body language tells him.

“E-Eren, I’m gonna—” you choked out, confirming his observations.

You felt cold air hit your slick folds as Eren drew back, quickly discarding himself of his last piece of clothing before he leaned down, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Ready?” he breathed into your lips, receiving a nod.

The burning sensation followed his dick breaching your entrance, stretching it out after so long.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your mouth, having forgotten just how good your pussy feels.

You choked out a groan as you wound your legs around his waist, urging him to plunge deeper, despite the slight pain that strains you.

“This good?” he asks between his heavy breathing as he makes his way deeper into you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod quickly, your voice out of tune.

He finally hits your cervix, staying like that for a few moments, allowing you to adjust, peppering your neck with kisses as your chest rises and falls heavily.

You kiss his lips as you place a hand against his buttocks, urging him to go on. He goes back to the point of pulling out before hitting you deep again, building up his pace as he does so.

Your mind is getting hazier with each thrust – it seemed that the room turned into a sauna as you could almost see the huffs of air that escaped both of your mouths.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he groaned against your ear as he pinned your hand above to your head, intertwining his fingers with yours.

He was barely controlling himself as your pussy clenched around him – he probably never had to restrain himself with you as he does now, regarding the absence of your touch for such a long amount of time. You’ve never been apart that long, and he hoped you’ll never be again.

“Eren!” you screamed, sensing your release fast approaching as you wound your hands around his neck.

He pounded into you hard, bringing some steamy memories of your times before for a moment.

Finally, you fell, arching your back, your stomach gliding against his, as every nerve of your brain exploded. Eren continued thrusting into you until a few moments after you felt his own release spilling inside you.

He moaned against the crook of your neck, planting a few kisses. He rolled to your side and faced the ceiling with his eyes closed, until they snapped open again, hearing you sniffle.

Guilt washed over him like a tempest as he leaned on his side, gently gripping your waist as you covered your eyes with the back of your forearm. “Did I hurt you??”

“No!” you yelped and removed your arm from your face, placing your palm on his cheek instead. For a moment you were so frightened he would blame himself for something he didn’t even do.

“No,” you repeated, more softly. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

He leaned his forehead to yours, worry leaving his body almost visibly. He sighed as he brought you closer.

You tucked a few of his locks behind his ear, making him look a couple years younger. “I love your hair.”

Eren chuckled, his eyes still closed in the afterglow bliss. “Captain hates it. He said –”

Then it dawned on him. “Wait, how did you get here?” he leaned on his forearm as he looked at you, genuinely interested, amusement threatening to widen his smile any moment.

“I simply asked Captain.”

Eren raised an eyebrow. “And he let you?? Just like that?”

“Well,” you trailed off. “He did mention something about a punishment for insubordination…”

“Unbelievable,” Eren whispered, as he sunk back into the mattress, quiet laughs emanating from his chest, as you drew shapes on it with a stupid smile on your face. “And you still came.”

“I’ll be fine if you visit me at least twice while I’m behind bars?”

You two laughed even harder, and this moment, this tiny moment in the vast space surrounding everything, was perfect.

[charlie-minion]

Could the same SPN finale make a little more sense with some additions/changes?

I’ve had the idea for this post stuck in my head for days now, but with every new conspiracy theory and every new eventuality in the fandom, it became difficult to cool down enough to write something less ship-related and more narrative-focused.

What Supernatural and non-SPN fans have to understand is that a lot of us have expressed disappointment and frustration after 15x20, not because of Destiel (that’s just one part of the whole problem), but because the finale doesn’t make sense. Everything was leading up to something beautifully crafted until the end of 15x19. Beyond that, it’s hard to understand what happened. The story rendered all the character growth irrelevant, invalidated the themes of free will and “family don’t end in blood”, regressed to the original brother codependency they spent 15 years trying to overcome, made a queer non-binary character in a male vessel and a deaf female character basically disposable, and kept the show’s reputation of queerbaiting and misogyny until its very last breath.

That’s not going out with a bang! At least not a positive one. We all were ready to mourn Supernatural, but we wanted to feel proud of its legacy, and somehow TPTB managed to tarnish that legacy in less than 45 minutes. What a way to ruin the other more than 13,600 minutes of story!

It doesn’t matter who is to blame (The CW, Robert Singer, Andrew Dabb). It doesn’t matter why it happened (homophobia, censorship, marketing for Walker, bad writing). What matters is that at the end of the day, the finale that aired is what we got and that’s going to hurt for a long time. It hurts even more when we realize that the same finale could have easily made more sense, even without being perfect.

That’s what I want to do in this post. I want to show you how things would have been less jarring (for the fandom), while still keeping the goal to please the general audience.

Before I begin rewriting 15x20, I have to mention that I talked to my conservative boomer sister about the finale. She hasn’t watched the second half of season 15 yet (she’s waiting for Netflix to have it), but she’s been watching the show for a long time (she introduced me to it 8 years ago). She’s the perfect example of a viewer from the general audience. Loves the show but doesn’t give a second thought to it and definitely isn’t paying attention to character development or themes. Doesn’t engage with fandom, actors, or any of the show’s social media. Pure GA! When I told her the series finale had aired, she asked me about it and I refused to give her spoilers. Because of that, she told me the ending SHE wanted. She said she would be happy with either of two possibilities: the boys retiring and finally living a normal life OR they going to heaven and finding peace at last. She saw Sam and Dean as a unit, which means: both retiring or both going to heaven. AND she saw Cas as part of that, too. She wasn’t so sure about Jack. And for her, we could use the “Eileen who?” and it wouldn’t be a joke. She didn’t remember her.

NOW IT’S TIME TO WRITE A NEW VERSION OF 15X20 (KEEPING 15X18 AND 15X19 EXACTLY THE SAME AS THEY AIRED). This will be a very long post:

The opening remains almost the same. No “Carry on my wayward son” to induce feels. Too soon and too predictable! (Reasoning: Everyone was expecting it to play right there, so it would bring more tears at the end)

In the opening, after the scene where Jack says “People won’t need to pray to me or sacrifice to me”, we also see the scene from 15x19 where he says “I won’t be hands on”. Then we see the rest of the opening as it was. (Reasoning: People needed to be reminded that Jack would NOT intervene and that’s why later on, he would NOT save Dean).

We get the same montage, but when Sam takes a break from his morning run, we see him reading a message on his phone. A simple: “Hey Sam, what’s new?” from Eileen. Sam smiles fondly and begins to type a response we don’t get to see. The next scene continues the same, Sam making breakfast. (Reasoning: A text was a very simple way to show that Eileen was alive and still in communication with Sam).

The montage slowly ends as Sam enters the library (not after he sits down). He seems to be talking on the phone but we only hear an “I’ll tell him. Bye”. As he walks towards the table, he tells Dean: “Charlie says hi. Mentioned something about Stevie’s perfect scrambled eggs we have to try.” Dean’s answer is “Awesome!” (Reasoning: Just ONE line was needed to unbury Charlie and her girlfriend. ONE LINE).

Sam sits down, opens his laptop and everything continues the same. The title card shows for the last time.

YOU SEE? In the first 4 minutes they could have acknowledged that THREE WOMEN were alive and safe: Eileen, Charlie and Stevie. It wasn’t hard! Don’t blame bad writing on Covid! Now let’s continue.

Sam and Dean arrive at the Pie Fest just the same. Dean goes to get some “damn pie” and Sam takes out his phone. He dials and when someone picks up, he says “Hey, Jody, how are ya?” We don’t hear the rest of the conversation. The scene moves to Dean coming with his 6 portions of pie. Dean sits down and Sam tells him, “Talked to Jody. The other hunters haven’t had much work lately.” “That’s good, isn’t it?”, Dean says. All we get from Sam is “Yeah.” So, Dean looks at him and asks “what’s wrong?” like it happened in the episode. (Reasoning: Again, a couple of lines to make sure the people that were killed in 15x18 are safe and remembered by the boys in 15x20. Why is this important? Because they’re family!)

The conversation about Sam’s sad face happens the same. Sam is the one that mentions Cas and Jack. (Reasoning: Because this episode was so Sam-centered, it’s obvious he was the protagonist in the finale. If we see him communicating with Eileen, Charlie, and Jody, then it’s NORMAL, even expected of him to be the one to bring up Cas and Jack). Without these additions, it’s harder for people to understand that most of the finale was NOT from Dean’s POV but from Sam’s.

Dean’s “if we don’t keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing” stays the same. (Reasoning: I believe it’s necessary that the show sticks to the importance of “letting go” and “what is dead should stay dead” for the first time ever because the message is “even when you lose someone you love, you can still find some form of happiness and keep living, for you and for them, because that’s what they would have wanted”. Bringing someone back means “I can’t live without you”, and that’s just more codependency. It’s how the demon deals began in the Winchester family –Mary being the first one to do it. This would explain why Dean didn’t ask Jack to bring Cas back, as he asked Chuck. He understood Jack was NOT going to interfere anymore and accepted it. Besides, when Cas saved Dean from hell, Dean thought he didn’t deserve to be saved. This time that Cas saved him, Dean finally feels worthy enough to accept that YES, HE DESERVED TO BE SAVED ALL ALONG, just as much as he deserved to be loved by that angel of the Lord. In this scene, Dean also says that the pain is not gonna go away, which means that from HIS PERPECTIVE, it still hurts that Cas is not there. The problem is that the finale is not showing his POV but Sam’s.  

Sam pies Dean on the face just the same. (Reasoning: That part was just to avoid ending the scene on a sad note).

Everything related to the case happens exactly the same. (Reasoning: At this point, people don’t really care about the MoTW, they care about Sam and Dean).

NOTE 1: The case is important to show that even when the Winchesters are finally free of Chuck’s influence, they CHOOSE to keep hunting. It isn’t something they do out of revenge or because it is their destiny anymore. Maybe they were forced into the life at first, but they’ve learned to find joy in saving people. Being hunters is who they are. However, the fact that a job application was shown on Dean’s desk is also important because it means he was willing to explore what else was there for him besides hunting. Maybe he could find a balance? Maybe he was thinking it was time to quit? We will never know! The thing is that Sam only finds out about it when he goes into Dean’s room after his brother is dead, so maybe that’s when it hits him that Dean wanted to explore his options, and Sam starts to think it’s time for him to do the same.  

NOTE 2: I believe the masks the vampires are wearing is something we can blame on covid. If they had their faces covered, it was easier to use people from the SPN crew for some scenes, instead of using more actors unnecessarily.

NOTE 3: When Sam and Dean arrive at the barn, we get 3 visuals to remember Cas in the same scene (those are for the fandom, not for the general audience): a) the barn, obviously; b) the bag that resembles Cas’ trenchcoat so much that many people thought that’s what it was; and c) two feathers hanging on Dean’s right when he opens the trunk.

The scene with the throwing star happens the same. (Reasoning: The episode is still told from Sam’s point of view, so it makes sense that he fondly sees his brother as a man child).

Jenny the vampire? Uhhh… I mean, it’s not the best piece of writing I’ve ever seen, but it’s not the worst, so okay. That stays the same. (Reasoning: There is none, but she’s not what really ruined the finale, so whatever!)

Dean still dies impaled on a rebar. (Reasoning: OK. HERE ME OUT!!! I hate as much as everyone else that Dean is killed. I think it’s lazy writing, but that’s what we got and I can’t change that in this re-write, so if killing Dean is what we have to work around, then, memes aside, death by rebar is better and here’s why. There’s no one to blame for Dean’s death: no Chuck (the boys were willingly hunting even after Chuck was defeated), no vampires (they were all killed and were no real threat, so it was impossible for Sam to begin a quest for revenge against all vampires. What was Sam going to blame? A rebar? Can you kill it? Hunt it? NO. It was an ordinary death, a stupid accident. Just like any person can die at any moment by slipping on a banana peel. Is it a good death? No, but it’s good to know he doesn’t die trying to save Sam or Cas, because Dean Winchester is NOT willing to give up his life in exchange for anyone else’s anymore.

Sam takes out his phone and says he’ll call for help, but his phone is more visible to the audience. He dials and it’s almost to his ear when Dean stops him and Sam hesitantly hangs up. (Reasoning: People have complained that Sam didn’t call an ambulance, but actually he tried to. It’s just that people missed that part, maybe?)

After Sam puts his phone back in his pocket and says “OK” to Dean, he adds, “I’ll pray to Jack”. Dean’s immediate answer is: “No hands on, remember?” “But Dean”, Sam says, and Dean interrupts him with “OK listen to me” and tells Sam what to do with the kids they rescued. (Reasoning: Jack is God now and how come Sam didn’t remember? The viewers remembered, so it was necessary to include a line that ruled the option out and that showed Dean didn’t want Jack to intervene. The rest was fine).

The lines “You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right?” disappear completely from Dean’s monologue. (Reasoning: This is the most problematic part of Dean’s dying speech. He fought God and earned free will, he is no longer controlled by fate or destiny. Accepting that he is supposed to die on a hunt regresses his character development and denies his desire to keep living. This was a total mistake and should be removed).

Instead, if going to heaven is the ending TPTB wanted to give Dean, at least he should say something more empowering. Sam tells him that both of them are going to take the kids somewhere safe. Dean answers and the scene follows like this: “No. Sammy, we made our choice, didn’t we?”, he smiles with difficulty. “We were free to write our own story and we did. We decided to keep saving people, hunting things. Because it’s what we love despite the risks.” (Reasoning: If Dean’s going to die it doesn’t have to feel like it was always meant to be that way. He should die knowing that he exerted his free will until his last breath).

The rest of the dialogue between Sam and Dean happens almost the same. Except that instead of Dean saying “‘cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It’s always been you and me”, he says “’cause when it all came down to it, we’ve always had each other’s backs. Always.” And instead of Sam saying “Don’t leave me”, he says “I still can try to save you.” (Reasoning: It sounds way less codependent without diminishing the importance of their love and support for each other).

Besides, let’s change Dean’s “I’m not leaving you” for “You don’t have to be alone. You’ve still got family.” The rest stays the same word by word. (Reasoning: Dean reminds Sam that “family don’t end in blood” and there are still lots of people out there who love Sam and will be with him).

“I love you so much, my baby brother” stays exactly the same. (Reasoning: Dean always had trouble to express the big L word. I always believed and said many times that before Dean could say “I love you” to Cas or any other character, he had to say it to Sam. So, this is important as part of Dean speaking his truth).

The last part when Dean insists Sam tell him that it’s okay stays the same. (Reasoning: It’s the final moment when the codependency cycle breaks. No more running in circles).

The forehead touch between them stays the same. (Reasoning: I think I would do something similar if my sister were dying. I know there are w*ncest shippers out there, but it shouldn’t matter because the moment feels appropriate for that kind of goodbye). 

See? There are changes but not too many. That’s why I’ve been saying that it was easier to get it right, yet they still managed to screw it up.

The second montage stays the same. (Reasoning: Life goes on, but of course Sam has to mourn).

The call about a case in Austin remains the same. (Reasoning: It’s the only part of the episode where someone from the found family is mentioned, so I think that Donna’s name is perfect in that moment. However, without the other additions I’ve made in this re-write, that off-hand mention feels too little. Its purpose was to tell the viewers that if Donna was alive, so were the others, but the way the episode was executed gave us an isolated Sam, incapable of having friends and a family without Dean).  

After 30 minutes of Sam’s POV, let’s finally see the last bit of Dean’s POV that we’ll ever get.

Dean arrives in Heaven and Bobby receives him. All their conversation stays almost the same, except that after mentioning Rufus and before saying “and your mom and dad…”, Bobby adds an “Ellen and Jo let me borrow their place”. (Reasoning: If you’re gonna put the man outside the Harvelle’s place, at least mention them for Jack’s sake!).

Besides, after Bobby tells Dean that Sam will be along and that time in heaven is different, Dean gives a small smile and says, “Well, there’s no rush. I want him to have a long, happy life.” Bobby answers with: “I would expect nothing less from you, boy” and tells him he got everything he could ever want, etc., just like it happened in the episode, and finishes by asking “What are you gonna do now, Dean?” (Reasoning: It’s important we know for sure that Dean is NOT codependent anymore and that he doesn’t expect to have a miserable afterlife just because his brother is not there yet).

Instead of saying “I think I’ll go for a drive” Dean says, “I think I know what I want” and walks towards baby. Bobby still tells him to have fun. (Reasoning: “Know what I want” is ambiguous enough to help us introduce the last piece of the puzzle, the one thing Dean’s wanted for many seasons and has never been able to express).

 The biggest change is coming:

Dean gets on the Impala and has a moment of silence while he contemplates the wheel. He begins to pray: “Hey, Cas, you got your ears on? I hear you’ve been busy working on this updated Heaven with Jack. You were right about him, Cas. You had faith in him and he saved us all. You could always see the best in everyone, even when they couldn’t see it themselves. Even when I couldn’t see it myself. There’s so much I want to tell you. Maybe you can visit sometime. I hope prayer’s still a thing up here.” (Reasoning: Dean’s side of the confession was unaddressed and that was terrible writing. If there was no way to get him to speak his truth textually, at least take him as close to it as possible).

We listen to a flutter of wings and a “Hello, Dean” from the back seat. We don’t see Cas, but the camera shows us Dean’s cocky smile and he says “Took you long enough.” He turns around slowly. End of scene. (Reasoning: The flutter of wings confirms that angels have their wings back and ties that loose end. The final “hello, Dean” was highly anticipated and it made sense. If Misha couldn’t be there to film, for whatever reason, or if the problem was the kind of conversation Dean and Cas would have, then don’t show it, but leave the door open. Let us know that the two characters were reunited and will talk, but whatever Dean has to say is so private that it’s not for us to hear, only for Cas.  

We finally hear “Carry on my wayward son” and get a montage that begins with Sam playing with his kid. Then we see Dean driving, super happy, and Sam living his life to the fullest. We still get Sam’s Blurry Wife, BUT… we see pictures of Eileen in the living room (not just of John, Mary, Sam, and Dean). We also see photos of Jody, Donna, Charlie, and AU!Bobby. (Reasoning: FAMILY DON’T END IN BLOOD).

The scene where Sam is wearing the party wig and looks miserable inside the Impala is cut and nobody talks about it ever again because it never existed. We get a scene of Sam teaching his son how to fix the car instead. (Reasoning: First of all, don’t give Sam a life where years later he’s still in pain. Second of all, the fucking wig was a crime).

Sam’s dying scene stays the same. The only thing is that his son signs a couple of phrases to him before actually speaking. (Reasoning: More confirmation that Dean Jr. is Eileen’s son).

We hear the final “Evanescence-like Carry on my wayward son”. Again we see the photos and there’s family other than the Winchesters there. (Reasoning: Obvious at this point).

The rest is exactly the same. The show began with two brothers and it’s okay if the last scene is with the two brothers reunited in Heaven. At this point, the other parts of the story are acceptable enough for us to feel happy that they get to see each other again after years of a happy (after)life.

Now look me in the eye and tell me this was too hard to execute. I still think that bad writing is a thing we can’t deny here, adding to the possible meddling of the Network. Maybe Dabb wanted us to hate the finale because he couldn’t get away with what he truly wanted. If that was his intention, then kudos to him. He and The CW really gave us a finale that only 30% of the fandom liked.

I hope you guys have enjoyed this and it helps to give you some peace of mind. In my heart, this was the finale we got. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t drop the ball either.

[taegyuun]

biology class

genre: fluff, acquaintances to lovers, highschool au

word count: 2.5k

pairing: jungwon x reader

requested? yes

notes: i hope you like this i really love college/school concepts and i was super excited to write this, also i had to search up topics for biology in highschool so if this seems too easy/hard for a bunch of 16 year olds y’know why. also yes i know in korea they have uniforms but for the sake of this they can wear their own clothes. I've been writing this all day, literally since the second i woke up until now which is 19:05 pm. I'm extremely proud of this so i hope you enjoy! texting is in bold.

yang jungwon.

the campus’ ‘it boy’. everyone knew, loved, hated, or couldn’t decide whether they wanted to be him or with him. people definitely had mixed opinions on him but it was mainly the boys who gave him the glances of evil.

they were jealous.

the kid was known for being easy going, naturally sweet to everyone and academically smart. but one thing that did tick the boys off though, were his talents. sure, there were many boys and girls in school that were nice and pretty and smart but somehow, yang jungwon just had to have it all.

not only could he sing, he could dance too.

not only could he be sweet, he could turn and give the cold glare too.

he was the definition of a perfect boy... and that’s exactly how you got involved with him. let’s just say you were at the brink of being infatuated with him.

but how could you not be? even though you two barely spoke together, when you did - even if it was only about the topic of your class - you felt like he was genuinely interested in what you had to say and it never felt forced. you always felt like he cared; no matter how boring the subject you were talking about was. it had you hooked in a second.

unfortunately, jungwon was popular. infuriatingly popular. and with popularity, the swarm of love letters and beautiful fangirls and fanboys also showed up in the picture. the thoughts of dating him disappeared quicker than you could say, “hello!” to him. it disappointed you, yes. however, who were you to dwell on some highschool boy? sure, he's not exactly the type that you’d quickly forget about the second you graduate but he also never made a real impact on your life other than some minor crush.

well that was up until your biology class.

“y/n and... jungwon.” the sound of mrs. lim’s voice boomed through the filled classroom and knocked you back into reality at the sound of your name. you look up from your hands in confusion and then rendered what she said - you were paired with jungwon for your biology project... that was worth 65% of your grade.

you weren’t exactly worried about getting everything done on time - you knew he would definitely cooperate and do what he was meant to do, but what you were worried about was messing up in front of him. i mean, messing up in front of your crush is the worst second hand embarrassment, no matter how nice they are. you put your thoughts aside and looked around the classroom, trying to find the boy, only to find him already looking at you with a smile and a small wave. you wave back before looking down at your fingers, picking at the skin near your nails. oh boy, you were in for a ride.

as the bell rings, you start to pack your things away, only to be stopped by a finger tapping on your shoulder.

“hey!” you almost feel like you’re in one of the cheesy romcoms, feeling like you had to cover your eyes from how bright his smile was.

“hi jungwon, what’s up?”

“i was wondering how we’re gonna do the project?” you thought about all the possibilities and topics. you could do it at his house, your house, the library and you couldn’t wait to decide on the subject. a small smile appeared on your lips at the thought of working with him.

“uh, what about i’ll give you my number and then we can decide after school?” you words were slightly rushed, as you tried to escape his presence as quickly as possible and get to your next lesson - wanting to hide away from the chilling glares his fangirls were giving you - which you were soon to be late to. he then pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to you before pulling his bag over his shoulder and sending you a pretty smile,

“remember to text me.”

you look at the piece of paper, a few numbers written on it in black ink. you dwell over the thought of having to text him first, but you knew if you didn’t, the project wasn’t going to get done. you thought over it a bit more and realised that your grades were far more important than some stupid crush. you pull out your phone and text a simple,

you: hi it y/n!

you put your phone down, expecting to have to wait a while for a reply and got back to picking at your food with your fork. instead, you're surprised to hear your phone vibrating on the wooden table, a notification with his name already on screen. you place down your utensil and look at the text.

jungwon: hey! so what do u want to do for the project? i think we should decide the topic first before figuring out where we want to do it 

you were glad that he was pretty straightforward and didn't beat around the bush, also that he genuinely wanted to get the project done and that it wasn't you doing all the work like the previous times you were partnered up with someone. 

you: what do u think about the musculoskeletal system 

jungwon: omg i was gonna say lets do smth to do with the skeletal system

jungwon: ok well then the topic is settled where do u wanna do it

you smile brightly at the easy agreement instead of having to scratch at your head for hours to get the other person to agree upon a topic.

you: i mean we can do it at mine if youre ok with that but the library is also an option

jungwon: yours it is then ;)

you look down at your phone in surprise at the “;)”, not expecting him to be so bold.

you: great! tmr after school?

jungwon: cant wait :)

throughout the whole day at school, you kept glancing at the clock, anticipating the final bell to ring so you could meet your project partner at the school entrance and walk home with him. you shake your head at the thought, trying to remind yourself that it was just a project - nothing else. the loud sound of a bell ringing brings you out of your trance, as you excitedly hop out of your seat. “woah, y/n... what's got you in such a good mood? its only lunch, are you that hungry?” you turn around and see jungwon standing with a hand on his bag strap and a few other boys behind him. you lightly laugh and say, “oh I'm just excited to get started on the project... hi guys.” you wave slightly at the boys stood behind him and hear a chorus of “hi y/n!!” following and excited waves. 

“ill see you later, alright?” you slightly smile as you start to walk away. your eyes widen at the yelling and hooting behind you as you look over your shoulder and see the rest of the boys shouting and punching jungwon’s arms, one of them yelling out a, “you scored! she's a cute one!” 

you smile slightly to yourself and lift your head higher, walking towards the cafeteria.

finally.

the final bell rings and you pack your things into your bag, sighing in delight at the thought of finally being able to leave the building. you walk out the class and instead of being able to walk straight out like usual, you see jungwon standing off to the side and gently waving at you. you raise a brow at him, but continuing to walk over anyway. “what are you doing here? i thought we were meeting at the entrance?” 

“i- um, i don't know i thought it be better if i waited for you here, you don't mind right?” he smirks knowingly, already aware of your small crush on him. he didn't find out through you, of course not. you were good at acting neutral around him - not even showing an ounce of adoration. however, one thing you weren't good at hiding, were your thoughts during your sleep. you two shared a free class together, and most of the time you spent it studying or sleeping. you didn't exactly say your thoughts loudly, but jungwon sat close enough to hear some of the things you had to say - him being a common topic of your dreams. he wasn't dumb, he could figure out that you liked him. but he also was a tad stupid - still not acting upon his already existing feelings and asking you out.

thankfully, you being his partner in the project boosted his confidence and had allowed him to create the ‘perfect’ plan of asking him to be your boyfriend. 

“i-uh, yeah! i don't mind. shall we go?” you say, slightly flustered. he nods in responses and mulls over what he was going to do. screw it. he grabs your hand and interlaces your fingers together, “so which way to yours?” your eyes widen at his action, looking at him with your mouth dropped open, before getting out a chocked, “uh, t-to the left.”

“lets get going then?” he starts walking and softly smiles down at you. you subconsciously squeeze his hand and smile back, walking hand in hand with him, steps oddly in sync. you hear a “hell yeah jungwon! get it!” and a loud, “ow!” followed after. you turn around and see jay holding his head in pain and sunghoon stood behind him with a smug smile on his face, throwing a thumbs up to both of you. you turn back around and look up at jungwon, seeing his cheeks tinted a light pink and a shy smile residing on his lips. you feel a soft tug at your hand followed by a clearing of his throat.

“come on, lets go.” you follow his step, hands still interlaced as you two walk in a comfortable silence, once in a while telling him which direction to go. 

“so what do you think we should start with?” you look up from the ground and see him looking at you, awaiting your response. “oh uhm, i think we should just start with getting all the info into notes and from that start making the project. i think we should leave the creative aspects like making it look nice and what not till the end because that doesn't really impact our grades so it isn't that important.” you feel his thumb rubbing you hand in soft circles and feel yourself getting warmer, completely forgetting his hand holding yours - it just felt so natural. he hums in agreement before speaking up once again. 

“I'm honestly so glad i got partnered with you, especially with this being such an important project. every time i had to work with other people who weren't my friends it felt like i either had to do all the work or scratch to the depths of my brain to get them to agree on a topic and on how we should make it work.”

“i totally get that!” your voice slightly raises in happiness at his words, “i feel the exact same way. every time i get partnered with someone, i always have to do all the work and it got so infuriating always having to credit them for something they never did or the bare minimum.” you take out the key from your pocket and twist it into the keyhole, opening the door and hearing the pat of your cats paws coming closer to the door. you both take your shoes off and walk to the kitchen, your cat following behind and waking in between your legs. 

“i didn't know you had a cat?” jungwon's voice forces you to look behind and find him to be crouching down and petting howl. “well, mr. yang, there's a lot you don't know about me, he's called howl by the way,”

“like howl from ‘howls moving castle’?” you smile brightly, happy that he got the refence. “yeah! i love that movie, its my comfort film,” you bring two glasses of water with you as you start to walk upstairs, jungwon following your steps. you both get to your room, opening the door wider to let him inside too. 

“woah.” 

“huh? oh uh, ignore everything - its not the prettiest room,” you say, slightly embarrassed at all the posters and random clutters on your shelves, “no, no! i love it, it reminds me a lot of my own room. its very fitting to you, y/n.” he smiles at you and you simply smile back, handing him the glass of water and hearing a quiet, “thanks,” in response. 

“well, should we start?”

“god! finally!” you both groan, falling back onto your soft bed, sighing at the ceiling. you two had been working since the second you got inside your room until the sun had set; your parents even managed to get back from work by the time you were only one third through your note gathering. you spread your arms on the bed, stretching as you did so. your hand then hits something soft and silky. you look to your left and see jungwon smiling brightly as your hand rests on top of is head. 

the whole time you two were working on the project, you both subconsciously stayed close to one another, as if you were just drawn to the other with an invisible force. even when you took a food break for 20 minutes and were sat opposite one another, your feet kept kicking the other, smiling and laughing quietly with warm cheeks. 

now you laid on your bed, your hand resting on top of his head and staying there with no complaints from the boy.

“i like your outfit,” you observed the comfortable fit he was wearing, oversized black hoodie with some blue text in the corner and loose fitting black trousers. jungwon looks down at what he was wearing before looking back up and smiling, eyes slowly opening and closing, “youre tired, aren't you?” he then opens his mouth, trying to deny your statement but gets cut off by a yawn. he blushes before softly nodding his head and getting more comfortable on your bed, unknowingly bringing you closer to him, eyes already closed. 

“take a nap, ill wake you up when it gets late.” he nods once again, barely conscious as he already falls into dreamland, arms wrapped tightly around you. you feel yourself heating up, both from his body heat and at his actions. you try hard as you possibly can to not squeal too loudly as you brush his hair away from his forehead and press a soft kiss in place. 

a tiny smile forms on his lips as you get more comfortable and start to drift away yourself. right before being sent away to your dreams, you felt a gentle kiss being pressed to your forehead in return. 

he may have not followed his ‘perfect plan’ of becoming your boyfriend but you both got 100% on the project... and a new found love.

[fallendragon]

✵ ･ ｡ ՙ @𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐈 ​ ֥   ｡ ･ ʃ  〈 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦  ⋆  〉  ͓

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || He is a beautiful piece of broken pottery, put back together by many hands; most prominent ones being Lord Raiden and Huan Hei. A critical world may judge Satoshi Hasashi’s kintsugi lines of golden joinery, while missing the beauty of how he made himself whole again. Satoshi’s nightmarish visions plaguing his nights manifest themselves as a curse of vestigial truth, revealing his own entombment within Sub-Zero’s chilling deathly menace. His mother remained brutally impaled by the unforgiving chill of eternal winter’s stillness, while his barely beating heartbeats remained a white noise murmur as his inevitable death drew near. Cold pangs embedded upon his heart and lungs, despite a fevered quandary with kicks and bursts defiantly resisted as the defiant and resilient Hasashi trait exuded upon young Satoshi’s innocent, yet resolute eyes. 

Ever since he was lost in the throes of viciousness of the world, Satoshi had never been afraid of being lost. For his subconscious was meant to wander off from time to time, for the long-instilled fear of never quite finding himself often kept him all night, even amidst his strenuous trainings to continue Hanzo Hasashi’s abruptly severed legacy. HeiHei had been a healer amidst countless destroyers around him; dealing with any and everything life had thrown the young Hasashi. He had been the warm touch that comforts, despite often reminding him of the very gelid touch that rendered him immobile, exacerbating the pain deep within him. There still may be vulnerability lingering at the tip of his lips, and within the unfathomable chestnut eyes that exude melancholia. 

Satoshi feels an unsettling bout of despair and jarringly out of sync this evening, all while the resplendent sun shines and clouds pour rain outside his window simultaneously. Perhaps that was why your father had to meet his brutal, humiliating death. A whispered voice, taunting and nearly persuasive in its timbre, sneers in his heart and soul, as forced feelings build up inside him, threatening to spill through his lips. “I am done counting exit wounds; icicle holes that still serve as reminders of the Shirai Ryu massacre and extinction, and everyone leaves eventually. It is what I learned lesson after lesson (evolve or repeat), but as you know, I still haven’t quite made my peace with anguish.” 

The thing is, after trauma, the kind where Satoshi goes through is more than  flight and fight; there is freeze, because the first would have meant suicide, and the second might very well have left copious blood and his slaughtered corpse. He subconsciously chose the third, where those moments of his life would become a stretched eternity, as sanity tucks itself deep inside of him. Words about forever and staying and keeping parts of another and remember me’s, not forgetting will never hit him the same way again; he never wants to be remembered anymore. “The world would have been better if it gave me closure, saved me years of my trials and tribulations.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

Though  seemingly  UNFAZED,  those  features  delicately  desperately  attempt  to  conceal  all  the  worry  that  had  piled  up  within  his  being  for  all  the  years  he'd  had  to  stay  away  from  that  one  mortal  whose  existence  was  held  in  a  special  place  in  his  ROTTEN  HEART.  Impossible  to  point  whether  it  was  to  pass  the  vain  impression  of  SELF-RELIANCE  so  that  the  youngest  could  rely  on  as  had  been  done  long  ago,  or  simply  to  nourish  this  Dragon's  own  PRIDE  as  the  monster  that  this  hell  of  Earth  had  long  convinced  itself  to  be  for  the  sake  of  their  own  SURVIVAL  ━━━━━━━━━━━  perhaps  a  sick  combination  of  both.  Fortunately,  the  weight  of  such  a  provenance  shouldn't  need  to  fall  on  the  shoulders  of  that  young  soul  with  so  much  potential  to  become  something  GREATER,  to  reach  further  ━━━━━━━━━━━  a  brighter  place  this  creature  bound  to  DARKNESS  could  never  reach.

What  became  more  and  more  difficult  to  hide,  however,  was  the  COMPLICATED  expression  contained  in  that  gaze  with  no  reflection  now  being  forced  to  peek  at  the  other  from  a  LOWER  angle  while  still  trying  to  focus  on  the  task  at  hand,  giving  to  that  pale  face  even  more  captivating  traces,  even  if  accidentally.  Oh,  how  wickedly  CRUEL  time  could  be. . .  Slipping  through  the  fingers  burning  like  the  desert  sand,  but  with  the  swiftness  and  sharpness  of  the  coldest  winter  winds:  Running,  moving,  changing,  TAKING  AWAY. . .  How  many  more  of  springs  would  this  trickster  time  carry  away  without  him  being  able  to  enjoy  the  other's  company  now?  Thus,  every  word  uttered  seems  to  pierce  the  Black  Dragon  with  the  force  of  dozens  of  sharp  daggers,  knowing  he  that  so  MUCH  MORE  could  have  been  to  bring  some  comfort  to  the  youngest’  torments,  watching  silently  in  inaction  as  his  insides  trembled  and  turned  in  ANGER  and  SORROW.

❛❛ You  DON'T  need  to. . . ❜❜      Despite  the  undeniable  ache,  his  heart  seems  to  find  the  strength  to  squeeze  out,  between  a  brief  sigh,  a  few  words  in  the  mildest  possible  tone.      ❛❛ You  don't  have  to  keep  counting  your  wounds,  make  peace  with  the  past. . .  ANY  OF  THAT. ❜❜      Deep  obsidians  finally  rise  as  the  light  hands  seem  to  resign  for  a  moment  of  UNCOMFORTABLE  SILENCE,  this  light  pause  giving  him  some  time  to  think  about  the  words  to  be  spoken  with  a  rather  ATTENTIVE  intent.  An  audacious  impulse  propelled  a  free  hand  to  reach  for  the  other's  chin,  as  if  gently  forcing  him  to  face  him  directly.      ❛❛ Take  this  grief  and  use  it  to  FUEL  your  heart,  focus  on  what's  ahead  ━━━━━━━━━━━  bare  your  teeth  and  keep  on  FIGHTING,  no  matter  what. ❜❜      A  vehement  nod  reassures  his  words,  those  jewels  seeming  to  glister  under  the  dim  light  from  that  inconvenient  angle.  The  mere  image,  the  mere  thought  of  that  young  man  falling  victim  to  his  own  sadness  and  becoming  yet  another  EMPTY  SHELL  would  be  too  much  for  this  demon  to  bear.  Something  he  would  never  dare  to  allow  ( nor  admit  out  loud ),  even  if  it  cost  whatever  bit  of  HUMANITY  was  still  left  in  his  cursed  body.

Let  your  flame  BURN  within.

❛❛ You  have  made  THIS  FAR. . .  'Should  serve  as  enough  proof  of  your  ever  growing  STRENGTH. ❜❜      Eyes  drop  again,  perhaps  a  little  conscious  of  the  tender  FAMILIARITY  that  still  seem  to  remain  in  those  bright  mahogany  pupils  even  after  all  those  years.      ❛❛ Whether  things  change  or  not,  I  will  be  WATCHING  OVER  you. ❜❜      Interesting  choice  of  words  for  a  creature  who  knows  that  his  mere  presence  will  bring  more  inconvenience  to  the  other  than  could  possibly  be  EXPOSED.  Yet,  there  still  lingers  in  him  is  this  strange  instinct  of  PROTECTION  towards  what  was  once  a  FRAGILE  little  being  on  the  verge  of  death  in  his  arms,  now  bloomed  into  a  grown  man.

[eirist]

In the Heat of the Moment

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note: For Day 3—Nami’s Day—of the ZoNa Days event (at @zonamievents). I’m already late but still posting it. It’s unfair if it’s only Zoro who gets an entry.

In the Heat of the Moment is by Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds. I still have The Umbrella playlist to thank for being such a good company.

Summary: "You're getting sappy witch. Sounds like you care about me."

The rain hadn’t let up from the moment it began to pour down.

Which should not have been a problem in the first place… the Straw Hats have their very own weather expert-slash-navigator extraordinaire after all.

If only said weather expert-slash-navigator extraordinaire didn't get distracted, arguing with a certain green-haired swordsman.

"This is your fault!" Nami complained, rubbing her arms with her hands in a poor attempt to keep the emerging chill away.

​Somehow satisfied, she folded her arms across her chest as she sulkily glared at the rain which has now completely turned into a steady downpour.

​Luckily she was able to pull the man with her towards an alcove in the town's wall before they got drenched. It was an uncomfortable fit, as they were almost pressed to each other, but it'll do.

​Zoro was snarling beside her. "This rain is MY fault?" He huffed. "Right! It's my fault coz I absolutely can make it rain on a whim!"

Nami turned sharply towards him, glaring daggers. "If you hadn't gotten lost—" 

"I DON'T GET LOST!" 

"—like the idiot that you are," she continued ignoring Zoro's outburst, deliberately raising her tone and effectively drowning his retort with her shrill voice. "Then we wouldn't be stuck in here ZORO!" Her voice jumped another octave when she said his name. "In. HERE!" She repeated the words, making sure to emphasize them and hoping to drill it straight into his thick, dumb skull. 

"Tch! Then you shouldn't have followed me!" The former bounty hunter groused.

​"Besides, aren't you supposed to be good at predicting the weather?" He commented sardonically. "Shouldn't you have known that it’s going to rain today?" 

Nami gaped at him disbelievingly. ​And heat rose to her cheeks.

​She gave his shin a good kick for that.

​​"Ite!" 

​"I know that!" Nami practically shrieked at him. "That's why I followed you here to tell you about it! Is this the thanks I get from making sure you don't get your dumb self lost in this island while a storm is brewing?!"

"Again woman, I DON'T GET LOST!" Not the one to be deterred, Zoro raised his own voice to match hers. "And damn it! Stop kicking me!"

​"Bullshit!" The ever-feisty navigator exclaimed. "That a load of crap and you know it!"

​She angrily poked his chest with her finger. "If I leave you to your own devices... We. Would. Never. Find. You!" She punctuated each word with a prod on his torso. As if that would actually make the idea sink unto him. "I don't want Luffy and Chopper whining about how you are lost and that we should find you!

​Zoro grabbed her hand to stop her from poking a hole in him. Grasping it firmly he all but shouted back at her. "I will be fine! I will find my way back to the Sunny!"

“Hah! Fat chance of that happening!” 

​They were almost nose to nose by this time; all the while scowling at each other, both waiting for the other to back down.

Now only the sound of the rain falling heavily down the soaked earth can be heard as they continued their stare off. Along with the sharp intake of breaths coming from the two of them because honestly, their shouting matches can be quite arduous.

​As the glowering continued; Zoro thought he caught a glint, a spark from behind Nami's eyes before those warm brown orbs widened.

​In what could only be a realization that their current position is leaning towards… precarious. It was also not helping that his own eye had darted all over her face, taking in the flush on her cheeks. Despite it coming from indignation, she still looks...

 ... pretty.

​He almost choked at his thoughts. When did he turn into that shit cook?

Zoro inhaled sharply and realized what a wrong move that was. He caught a whiff of Nami’s signature scent. Sweet with an undertone of zestiness that reminds him of her mikan fruits at their peak of ripeness—that certain moment that makes you want to steal one so you can taste them...

​The color on her face deepened and Zoro wasn't sure if it was because she was getting angrier and angrier by the minute.

Or... If it was because she saw that his stare lingered for more than a second or two at her lips. ​"Screw this!" He grunted, instantly averting his gaze. He felt his face heating up and to get out of their rather 'awkward' situation, he immediately resorted to his favorite defense mechanism whenever he faces off against this orange-haired devil incarnate.

Losing his temper on her. 

"You are not my keeper woman!" He snapped at her before immediately stepping out of their sanctuary and into the rain.

That made Nami snap to attention. "Hey!"

​Without another word Zoro turn around and started walking away from her despite the torrential rain.

WALKING. AWAY. FROM. HER.

While it’s raining cats and dogs. 

 "Zorooo!!!" He heard Nami screeched his name, horrified that he would actually leave her alone. There was no way he was getting back in there with her. Not when it occurred to him that he was only a second away from grabbing her...

...and kissing her.

​He walked in faster strides when she called him again. He had to get away from her. He needed to get away from her.

Far away.

​Because honestly she was driving him crazy lately with all these thoughts of wanting to kiss her surfacing every moment whenever he was with her.  

And who knows what the repercussions are? This is Nami they're talking about. She would probably sic ero-cook and even Luffy if he dared to even try. Or rat him out to either Robin or Usopp or both.

Or charge him more than what his current bounty is.

He winced at that.

​For now he needed to get away and calm himself so he can reflect...

​There was no warning as something collided at his back, almost making him stumble down the wet ground.

Did someone just attack him?

​But the presence wasn't threatening, even if its arms were wrapped around his neck in a chokehold, throttling him.

"YOU DID NOT JUST LEAVE ME ALONE THERE RORONOA ZORO!" Nami deliberately yelled at his ear, probably making his ear drum shatter and rendering him forever deaf. In a split second the Supernova realized that Nami… had jumped him.

​"Hey! Get off witch!"

"No!" "Get off!" "I said no!"

​"Get off now or I'll--"

Her hold around his neck tightened. "Or you'll what?" Nami hissed right in his ear in a tone so dangerously low that an actual chill ran down Zoro's spine. He gave her arm a light slap, a silent gesture to loosen her hold because she was cutting off his air. When she didn't relent, he effortlessly bounced her up his back.

​With a squeak of surprise, her arms slackened and he was able to finally draw in some air.

Nami’s hands grabbed at his shirt in an attempt to prevent herself from slipping from his back. Zoro tried to shake her off him. But the cat burglar swiftly clung onto him by locking her legs around his waist.

His remaining eye widened at that. 

"Nami!"  ​ "Stop trying to shake me off Zoro!" Nami protested as she held on to him tightly. Her knee knocked against his katanas and he scowled. "Then stop strangling me damn it!" "You deserve it you ass! Leaving me alone like that! Wait until the others hear about this you brute!" ​ Zoro muttered an expletive under his breath. Nami is a real witch!

He can feel her sliding down his back again. She was having a hard time clinging onto him because his shirt and her arms and legs were all wet from the rain water.

"I'm charging you for all these Zoro!" She muttered against his ear, her breath hot against his skin… a stark contrast from the cold rain water falling down on them. "The hell you are!" He managed to retort. She was speaking from his blind side and even as he tilted his head, he cannot see her face or her expression.

The next thing he knew… her fist had descended on his head.

“The hell! Why did you hit me?!”

“Because you are a moron.”

“That’s it get off me!”

“No!!”

​They continued struggling against each other, right in the middle of the rain that was soaking them to the bone.

​And Zoro realized then and there that Nami was quite nimble. She had quickly managed to change her position from his back to his side with her legs still locked around him.

He really didn't know what to do with that information, except it's going to be really handy once he gets the chance to...

​​​Fuck! ​​ She had hit him on the head with her fist ​again.​ That’s twice already.  Why are her punches hurting him so much? Was it clad in haki?? "Argh! Nami stop it!" He tilted his head towards her so he can growl and glare at her all at the same time.

She just gave him a haughty serves-you-right grin.

In retaliation he bounced her against him again. 

​Which was a wrong move. Because all it did was rubbed her breasts against him and press her closer to him.

It was a good thing the rain was drowning them.   Though it did made her yelp in surprise. He’s good with that.

​"Argh! Stay still Zoro! I swear if you drop me down I'm going to—"

“To what?” His steely eye met hers. This time it was his turn to challenge her.

Nami’s hold around his neck tightened, probably because her grip on him was slipping again because she was just as wet as he is and also because she still wants to choke the shit out of him for leaving her alone earlier.

She lifted her chin slightly so she could gaze back at him even as the rain water continued trickling down her face.

Was it just him or Nami’s quite comfortable where she is right now?

He knew she was trying to give him the evil eye. But it was hard to do that when the droplets of rain keep clinging to her lashes and she had to blink them away in a manner that affects him greatly.

And there was it… that familiar glint, that spark he saw when they were back in the alcove taking shelter from this rain.

“Look Zoro,” she finally sighed. “I just wanted to make sure you will come back to the Sunny in one piece and not get stranded in this weather."

​Zoro blinked. He was not expecting that.

​Then his face broke into a smirk. "You're getting sappy witch. Sounds like you care about me."

“Y-y-ou!” She stammered.

He grinned at her as she sputtered, her face turn absolutely and adorably red.

To think, he actually high-tailed it out of there earlier with his tail between his legs all because he can't face the realization that he wanted this woman.

But there was no denying it now. Amidst this rain it was very clear. That was all he needed.

He finally decided to take a chance instead of running away from it like a coward. ​

He tucked a strand of her wet hair behind her ear. "You can punch me or charge me later Nami," was all he said before he pressed his lips on hers.

Her body jerked in surprised. His arm instantly wrapped around her waist to secure her as one of her hands grasp at his shirt tightly.

​He swore he heard and felt her murmur 'oh fuck' against his lips before she deepened their kiss.

​They pulled apart slightly for air. Zoro hauled her up a little and Nami was about to lean down to for another kiss…

“A-choo!”

They looked at each other in surprise. Nami’s hand automatically covered her mouth as her face turned red again… this time for a very different reason.

“Ehem!”

They both turn their heads towards the sound and saw an elderly man standing a few feet away from them under an umbrella.

He was shaking his head as he looked at them.

“You youngsters should just get a room you know. You risk getting sick doing things out here in the open that should be done privately.”

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Seven / Decaf

W/C: 4k

Warnings: language, dirty thoughts, all of the dirty thoughts because Javi is a horndog, male masturbation... general spice. pining that could make a pine cone tremble.

A/N: welcome to pining central, enjoy your stay :) (ps when Steve says “Javier Peña” I need you to read that in the voice of Anthony Mackie going “SEBASTIAN STAN”)

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

ordinary coffee that has had most of its caffeine removed from it before the beans are roasted.

You are a goddamn test on Javier’s self control. He feels like those biblical stories of men fighting back against temptation to prove themselves to God, except the only thing he has to prove is to himself. To you.

He’s always been enraptured by you, captivated by your smile and laugh but since you went ice skating, he hasn’t been able to get your body out of his mind. The way you fell asleep on him last night, nuzzled in like it was the safest place on earth. He could feel your breasts press into his skin, the warmth of your thigh hiked across his abdomen. If the past week has been some caffeine-induced fever dream, it’s becoming real now. You, a figment of his imagination before, maybe, are all flesh and blood and God, is he desperate for it.

Javier hangs around your apartment when you’re gone at work. He doesn’t have much else to do, considering you’re gone and he knows hardly anything about the city. He watches the daytime television on your couch, usually meanders to the coffee shop for a drink, spends some time there, and returns to the apartment.

He feels like he’s couch-surfing, like he did for a summer in his college years. He feels guilty occupying the space in your home, especially without payment. As he walks to the bathroom, he takes a long glance into your bedroom. The queen-sized bed is mussed, unmade before you left for work. The fitted sheet is pooled in the middle beneath where you sleep, the various blankets tossed about. It looks like the coziest damn thing he’s ever seen, especially after a couple of nights on a couch.

Javier almost thinks about giving in, waiting for you to ask him to sleep in your bed tonight then jumping at the chance. Maybe he will, if he’s tired enough. Maybe he won’t, but maybe he will. He can think of nothing better than the endless whir of the radiator as your perpetually-cold body nuzzles against him, brushes your nose against his bare chest.

It’s been a long time since Javi has fucked anyone, and he’s starting to feel it. He’s a little antsy, and the image of your body, your ass as you ice skate past him, haunts him like a bad dream- or rather some illicit fantasy he knows he shouldn’t be having.

Would you want him yet? You’ve told him you love him, but that was an accident. When he kisses you, you kiss back harder. Hell, you initiated the first kiss. You seem like you’ve been all-in on this relationship, taking things at a rushed pace that Javier certainly doesn’t mind. He spends a lot of the day contemplating that, standing on the tiny balcony of your apartment and smoking a couple of cigarettes.

At this point, he needs a distraction or he’s going to have to take matters into his own hands, quite literally. What better to kill the horny buzz making his head spin than to call Murphy?

The phone is in your bedroom, on the nightstand. Javier dares to sit on the edge of your bed, and actually moans aloud at the plush comfort, the way his ass sinks into it. Goddamn, he’ll have to get one of these. He wants nothing more than to lay back and fall into the bed, wait for you to get home and pound you into the comfortable mattress. But he doesn’t. He stays strong and picks up the phone, dialing the new Murphy residence in Miami.

After a couple of rings, a familiar voice answers. “Murphy’s.”

“Hey, bastard,” Javier chuckles, and he can hear the blonde man’s laughter from across the receiver.

“Javier Peña,” Steve drawls, dragging out the name. “Good to hear your voice, man. You finally come out of a ten-day celebratory drunkenness?”

“Don’t talk to me about binges,” Javier teases, but he smiles a little. He’s missed the man. He’s glad neither of them got in any trouble over the entire Los Pepes situation- God, that feels like ages ago now. It’s hard to believe he’s only been in D.C. what, eleven days? If Steve’s math is right, yeah. “No. I’m in D.C. still, if you can believe it. Just… bored.”

“Oh really?” the man scoffs, leaning against his kitchen counter in Miami with Olivia on his hip. “And why’s that? What are you still doin’ up there anyway? Thought you were goin’ to visit the old man.”

Javier shakes his head. “Plans changed. There’s, uh… there’s a girl.”

Steve lets out a wolf whistle, laughing. “And how much does she charge a night?”

“Not one of those. She works at a coffee shop around here,” he informs him. “She’s… she’s really something. Nothing I ever thought I’d be into. She’s gorgeous, man, and so energetic all the damn time. Seems like she has an IV of coffee from her shop,” he chuckles, looking off into space. He takes a pause. Steve doesn’t speak. “I wanna be with her Steve. I don’t… I don’t know if I can go back.”

He’s silent a little longer. “This is some kind of practical joke, right?” Steve says after a beat, barely holding back a laugh. Never has Javier been so sincere, so real and honest and open. And more specifically, he’s never been like this over a girl. Almost… mushy. Soft. “Tell me more,” he says, hoping the joke will give up.

Javier talks about you, describing every little detail with a grin on his face. He tells Steve about Tie Guy and ice skating and your piece of shit car, how you can spin in circles on the ice and how you remind him of a busy little bee, fluttering about the coffee shop.

Steve is genuinely rendered speechless; a hard thing to do. He blinks down at Olivia then straight ahead at the refrigerator, covered in photos and magnets and drawings. He can’t imagine Javier ever wanting something like this, like what he and Connie have, but he sure sounds like it. “That’s… something. Good for you, Javi,” Steve chuckles, resigning to sincerity. “I’m happy for you.”

Javier grumbles back. “Don’t get too happy. I have to go back to Calí in three weeks. She doesn’t want me to leave… I don’t know what to do, Murph. I can’t bring her with, you know that, but I can’t just leave her here. And I sure as hell can’t quit.”

“You could quit.”

“I’m not going to, how’s that?” Javier huffs and crosses his arms, annoyed by Steve and his goddamn wording loopholes. “I just… fuck. I’m gonna go think about it before she gets back.”

“She comin’ to your hotel? You sure you aren’t paying per night?” He smirks.

Javier’s quiet and Steve isn’t sure what it means until he talks. “I’m, uh, staying at her place. She insisted.”

Steve whistles again. “Damn. You’re whipped, Peña. Well, I’ll let you go. Call again soon. I miss ya, bud,” he tells Javier in a moment of earnesty then hangs the phone back on the receiver, bringing Olivia to her nursery to change her diaper.

Javi sighs and falls backwards on the bed, admiring the way the mattress holds his body compared to the couch. Yeah, he’ll definitely need to sleep in here tonight or he’s going to crack his spine.

The issue will be you. He could handle it on the couch; it was like a soft, adolescent form of love, innocent and warm. Of course, it could still be the same in your bed. But would it? Is there not a different set of implications that come with the two of you sharing a bed?

Snuggling with you on the couch was nice. Wonderful, perfect even. Javier loves falling asleep with you in his arms. But in your bed, arms curled around him, maybe even being his little spoon… that perfect body pressed flush to his own, your soft ass against his groin, your breathing pushing back into his chest… that would be an entirely different thing. And he wants it, he really does, but he isn’t sure he’ll be able to control himself.

He slept like shit the last night, to be honest. You on top of him prevented him from moving, and Javier is an active sleeper. His neck was at an odd angle and his back twisted. His body feels like it did after that fight with Tie Guy. He can’t- wouldn’t- invade your privacy of your bed without you home to give him the go ahead, but he’s so damn tired. Not even the coffee helps.

So Javier indulges in one of life’s little pleasures he rarely gets to experience: a nap. Curled up on his side on the couch, blankets pulled snug around his fetal-positioned body, Javier drifts off to the sound of the noon news on the television.

That’s how you find him when you come home. He’s peacefully asleep, his lips parted and mustache moving with his exhales. Well, he’s clearly alive. That’s good.

You’re not sure how long he’s been asleep, so you leave him, making yourself something to eat in the kitchen. You avoid the living room as you get settled in, changing out of your espresso-stained clothing and into something more comfortable.

When you’re all comfy, makeup removed and a warm sweater on, you sit at the other end of the couch. Javier’s curled into a ball, his feet just inches away from your legs. You hope when he moves, he’ll feel you there and wake. If not, oh well. He deserves the rest.

It’s gray and cloudy outside, and you snuggle into the corner of the couch while reading your worn copy of The Great Gatsby. It’s the one you’ve been re-reading recently, what you were reading that first day Javi wandered into your coffee shop and subsequently your life.

Javi wakes not long later, maybe half an hour, to the sound of your book crinkling. The paperback’s spine crunches with wear, and his eyes flutter open to see you tucked against a pillow. God, you look like an angel, the light from the cloudy day filtering in and illuminating you from the back. Your face is calm and peaceful, focused as your eyes trace the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald. “Hi,” Javier mumbles groggily.

Your expression turns to a smile and you set down the book. “Hey.” You take his legs and drape them across your lap, tracing your fingers across them. “How’d you sleep?”

He groans. “Okay. Neck hurts.”

“That wouldn’t be an issue if you’d just sleep with me,” you sing-song to him, stroking his legs through the comfortable pants he wears. “My bed is super cozy.”

God, does Javier know it. It felt like your love itself when he laid down and the warmth of it swallowed him, practically whole. “Maybe I’ll give in,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “How was work? Sorry I didn’t visit.”

“Boring as always,” you chuckle. “What did you do today?”

Javi frowns as he thinks about it, his brain fogged with sleep. “Not much. Called Murphy, talked a while. He’s doing good.”

“Good,” you nod and smile. “When will I get to meet this elusive Steve?” You ask, softly kneading at his legs through the blanket and frowning as you realize he’s wearing… jeans. “Wait, pause. Are you seriously wearing jeans?” you ask him and laugh, lifting the blanket to confirm what you already suspected.

He frowns defensively, crossing his arms. “Maybe.”

“Why the fuck would you take a nap in jeans, Javi?” You laugh.

Javier looks away, frowning. The stubbornness shows. “I don’t own many comfortable clothes besides what I wear to work, if you haven’t noticed,” he retorts, but you can’t help but giggle. “Plus I thought I’d only be here to get fired.”

You smile at him lovingly and cup his face. “You sweet, stupid workaholic. Let’s go shopping later, get you some cozy stuff.”

Javier warms against your touch but maintains a pout. “I like jeans.”

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a laugh. “Would a pair of sweatpants be detrimental to your wardrobe, Javier?”

“Stop using big words,” he groans. “I’m barely awake.”

-

The large mall is annoying to Javier, full to the brim with last-minute (or maybe prepared, he never holiday-purchases) shoppers. He holds your hand, shooting feisty glares at anyone that dares to bump against his or, god forbid, your side. “Relax,” you tease and squeeze his free hand. The other carries a bag containing two hoodies, three t-shirts, and two pairs of sweatpants. “You’re not on a mission, and you certainly don’t have the knuckles to pitch another fight.”

He looks at his hands and scowls. You’re right. They’re no longer black and blue but faded yellows and greens, a spare bit of purple over the bones. The fight wasn’t that long ago, really, even though it feels like an eternity.

You drag Javier into a favorite shop of yours. He follows you around like a lost puppy while you search through clothes. He even hands you one or two tops he thinks you’d look nice in. You kiss him on the cheek and he dares to smile for a moment before returning to his stone-faced annoyance at such a packed area.

The dressing rooms are nicer, much more spaced out and offering places to rest. Javier sits in a chair across from your little cubby as you try things on. Every time you find something, you come out and model it for him. He comments, always positively, gives a little applause and smiles at the twirl you give in the big trifold mirror.

There’s one pair of leggings that hug your ass tight. Javier nearly salivates at them. “I like those,” he comments. “They look comfortable.” The same follows with a pair of jeans, even more flattering. He crosses his legs and nods, giving you similar comments.

Then come the dresses and tops. They’re all low-cut, not the wintery clothing Javier’s always seen you in. They show off your cleavage, and one scarlet colored blouse with a low neckline and fluffy sleeves makes Javier’s eyes simultaneously light up and darken. “How’s this one?” You ask, tugging at the sleeves.

“How much is it?” He asks, leaning back and looking at you through lidded eyes.

“Uh…” you tell him the cost and look back up at him, expecting a comment. “Why?”

“I’m buying that for you myself,” he smirks up at you, eyeing you up and down in a way that makes your skin feel intensely hot. The sight is stunning to him, and your flustered smile makes the smirk a little more devilish.

Javier does end up buying you the shirt, and you purchase a few other things you liked. But that scarlet shirt is stuck on Javier’s mind in replay: the subtle valley between your tits, how they filled out the shirt just perfectly and tugged at the cloth covering them, the way they look painfully soft to the touch, especially through that soft fabric. He wonders if you were wearing a bra under it. Then he has to stop himself.

You eat dinner late, chatting mindlessly over everything and nothing. Javier has no work to speak of now, so he tells you tall tales of the hunt for Escobar, some exaggerated and some underplayed. He mainly listens to you, asks about your past and your future, your family and your job. He could never tire of your voice, the soothing lull that warms him from the inside out, just like your skin flushed in that goddamn red top.

He drives the both of you home, humming softly to the songs on the radio. He’s beginning to recognize more and more of the top-40 hits on a certain preset station, songs he’d never listen to on his own. He glances over at you, gazing out of the window, and feels his body warm again- not just in his heart, but his stomach and lower too. He dares to steal a glance down, at the soft swell of your tits in that sweater. God, he wants to get you naked.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what you want and he’s too afraid to ask, too afraid to shatter this blissful phase of adoration without the sexual attraction. He wonders if you feel it too, if your clothes suddenly feel too restricting and too warm when you run a hand down his bare back.

The nightly routine ensues: you shower. Javier changes, this time into a new hoodie but leaves his legs bare, wearing only boxers on the bottom. He waits on the couch, and when you exit the bathroom, he takes his turn. He returns and sits next to you on the couch.

Tonight, when you ask him to share your bed with you, he doesn’t say no. In fact, he doesn’t say much of anything, just yawns softly and stands, taking your hand.

It’s a sacred space, your bed. Javier knows it. He rarely fucks women in his; whether it’s for his own privacy or fear they’ll fall asleep there, he can’t say. But your bed is such an intimate expression of you, and he can see it. He can see the divot in the mattress where you sleep, the way you arrange the pillows just right for your own head. It is a queen size, but it’s single-occupancy: until now, that is, and Javier feels honored you’re willing to share this holiness with him.

He gets into the bed on the other side of you, the warm blankets enveloping him, and he nearly lets out a moan at the comfort. Compared to the hotel bed and the couch, this is sleeping on a literal cloud from the heavens. He lies still, waiting to see what you do first. Not wanting to overstep anything.

His prayers are answered when you snuggle into his side. You rest your head on his chest, kissing his sternum through the soft material of the hoodie. A hand rests on the other side of your face, and your legs both encircle one of his. Javier smiles, wrapping an arm around you. He presses a kiss into your hair and murmurs a goodnight, letting his head fall back. He has no time to worry about this situation before he falls asleep.

He falls asleep almost immediately, which makes you chuckle through your half-conscious state. He seems to always radiate heat, Javier. Your layers of blankets upon blankets suddenly feel unnecessary when a heat source the strength of the summer sun fills your bed. His chest is strong and firm beneath you. The rise and fall of his chest is like a boat rocking on the ocean, putting you at ease and allowing you to rest.

-

Fuck. He knew this was a bad idea. Why did he do this?

The clock reads 1:48 and Javier is wide awake, staring at your popcorn-stucco-whatever the fuck it is ceiling. He wasn’t able to process this before sleep overtook him, before his consciousness was wiped and with it, his inhibitions.

Your body is pressed to his so perfectly. You sleep without a bra, and Javier can feel his arm being slightly sandwiched between your breasts, the way they press further into it every time you inhale. Your thighs are warm with sleep, and he can feel your core pressed against his hip, even while you sleep and even through the layers of clothing.

Javier feels like the embodiment of slime. You’re asleep and all he can think about is how fucking hot your body is, how much he wants to press you into this mattress and wake you with an orgasm. He wants to palm your tits and make your nipples harden through that flimsy shirt, to slide his fingers beneath your pajama bottoms and-

He can’t take it. He feels so wrong, the smell of you surrounding him and choking him like a thick perfume, even in its subtlety. He does not deserve to sleep next to you, innocently, like someone you love, when all he can think about is his own carnal desires.

Pushing back the covers, Javier gets out of bed before any more blood can flow to his slowly hardening dick. This is all wrong. He should not be doing this, thinking these things without knowing you feel the same.

But the guilt is as strong as his arousal. He watches you for a moment, torn between his options, before meandering through the darkened bedroom and finding his way into the bathroom. He turns on the bright lights and forces himself to stare at the bulbs, to make his pupils shrink from their blown state of sleep mixed with desperation. He’s fully awake now.

He needs to get the hardened length down. He can’t do this, can’t allow himself this suffering while you sleep in the next room.

The sink. Cold water. He gasps silently at the splash of the ice-cold water against his face, dampening the edges of his hoodie. It doesn’t work enough. Again. Nothing. He feels like a teenager, unable to control himself. The cold water is a good idea, though.

Javier strips down, trying to avoid the urge to take himself in hand and fix this here and now. Turning the water as cold as it can go, Javier turns on the shower and steps in.

Agony is the best term he has. It makes him want to squeal like a fucking pig as he shudders from the cold. It doesn’t work to force his erection down, but what use is it when it’s not something physical but mental stimulating him? The cold shock didn’t do shit. Javier’s still achingly hard. He turns the water warmer and sighs as it gradually turns to a tolerable temperature, one that he can relax under and allow himself to let out a deep sigh.

He has no other options, unless he wants to wait it out. Leaning against the wall, Javier strokes himself, biting his lip and hoping the water pressure will cancel any soft moans he can’t avoid. It doesn’t take long when he’s this aroused, when he knows exactly what the fantasy in his head would feel like.

Javier is panting and sweating, from the effort and the growing heat of the water. He feels disgusting but it feels so good, and he can’t help imagining you doing this to him, you spreading your legs and feeding the fire between his own.

It only takes a few minutes. He gasps as he cums, with a force he’s never brought forth with his own hand. He bites his lip so hard he’s sure he might cut it off, not allowing the desperate sounds to reach a level you could hear. When he’s done, he groans and cracks his neck. “Oh, little bee,” he whispers, agonized as he lets the water wash the evidence of his sins down the drain.

When he’s done, Javier walks into your bedroom, silently, in the dark. His previous boxers were stained with a patch of his precum; he can’t put those back on. He drops the towel and puts on different boxers.

After he’s changed, he looks at your bed longingly for a moment. The soft sheets, soft mattress, the soft body between them. But in Javier’s head, he’s forsaken his right to the warmth, the comfort.

When you wake in the morning, hours after you thought you heard the shower running, you find Javier is not in your bed. There isn’t even a warm spot where he lay, just your body shifted further from your normal sleeping position. When you wander out to make your morning coffee, you find him. He spent the night on the couch again.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @yooforia @oceanablue @sara-alonso @pedrosmustache @feelingmadclever @hnt-escape @radiowallet @obsessivelysearching @sugarontherims @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @linnie0119 @1800-fight-me @autumnleaves1991-blog @toilet-keeper @evelynseventyr @metalarmsandmanbuns @shannababyy @sambucky21 @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @theorganasolo @jagi-yaaa @mrsparknuts @tacticalsparkles @beskarboobs @wintermuteway

[happyandticklish]

Make Me

Shizaya Week - Day Five (cigarettes)

Notes: Day 3 & 4? I don’t know her. Anyway, here’s this, because I actually had an idea for this one! One day I will make Shizuo the lee, I swear, but for now, I shall stick with self-indulgently wrecking Izaya’s shit once more. 

“Hey!”

Shizuo glanced up in surprise as Izaya snatched the unlit cigarette out of his mouth. “What the hell?”

“These things will kill you, you know,” Izaya commented, his brows wrinkling in disgust. He waved it around idly as he spoke, casually walking away from the other. “You already have enough people in this town trying to kill you, I hardly think you need something else adding onto your sudden demise.”

“Are you forgetting all the times you attempted to do the same?” Shizuo dodged around passerby’s awkwardly, attempting to catch up with Izaya.

The two had met up at Simon’s that day on accident, mostly. Perhaps Shizuo had let the information slip that he would be there that afternoon, and maybe Izaya had decided that he was coincidentally in the mood for sushi as well. If anyone asked, it was happenstance, a random fluke of life. To call it a date would be ludicrous.

Izaya laughed, gracefully slipping through the crowd with an ease the other lacked. “You get hung up on the smallest things, Shizu-chan. Relax—I’m doing you a favor.”

“Give it back.”

“Make me.”

The words were a challenge, one Shizuo knew well. The urge to destroy Izaya hadn’t fled when feelings encroached on their territory, but instead had merely morphed into new and more intimate modes. There was a playful edge to their taunts now. The lines between fighting and flirting were flimsy, and Shizuo found himself crossing it unconsciously more and more as time went on. Not that he really minded. He was never one for change, but he had to admit, this was a nice one.

Shizuo narrowed his eyes, a teasing grin sliding into place on his features. Izaya’s heart leapt to his throat, as though his body already knew what was to come.

And then he was running.

Pushing past people on the street, Izaya leapt on top of benches, propelling himself forward with a chaotic ease that made others stare. Shizuo felt fire alight in his body once more, a familiar feeling. Only this time, instead of anger, the passion coursing through him was something else entirely—excitement.

“What’s wrong? Running away is the coward’s option you know—come out and face me like a man.”

Izaya threw a glance back only to find Shizuo much, much closer than he had expected. Shit. Giddy laughter built up in his throat, but he shoved it down, tossing back a breezy air as he replied, “Only fools play fair, my dear beast. I thought you would have learned that by now.”

Izaya turned into a corner at the last moment, hoping it would delay the other and give him a second to think. He clutched the cigarette tight to his chest; his fingers had crushed it a little in his haste, rendering it useless should Shizuo actually retrieve it. Not that it mattered. Both knew that wasn’t what this was about, anyway.

Seconds passed by slowly with no sign of the other man, and Izaya exhaled slowly. Maybe he had lost him after all? He turned around to shove the cigarette in his pocket, but before he could he felt a hand grab his wrists, pulling it above his head and pressing him against the wall. Izaya gasped, bracing his impact with his other hand.

“Gotcha,” Shizuo whispered quietly, casually plucking the cigarette from his hand and tossing it to the ground. He had him trapped, his torso bearing into Izaya’s back and his hand pinning him there. Escape would be difficult to be sure.

Izaya smiled, helplessly, closing his eyes and trying to conceal the nervous edge from his voice. “For now. And what happens when you’re in my position later on, hmm? What will you do when you are at the mercy of my will?”

Shizuo slipped his right hand under Izaya’s shirt, his fingers skimming across the trembling skin in unhurried exploration. “We’ll see if you last long enough for then, won’t we?”

Izaya choked on a stifled sound, biting his lip to try to conceal the other noises rising inside him. Nails, featherlight, traced incomprehensible patterns along his ribs that had him arching closer to the wall. “T-This is, e-entirely, ah, uncahalled for!”

“You stealing my shit is uncalled for.” Shizuo dragged his nails down, scratching lightly at his hips. Izaya yelped, his other hand reaching around to slap him away. Shizuo merely danced around the interference, targeting a new spot whenever he tried to protect it. “This, however, is simply the consequences of your own actions.”

“S-Stahap this, heh, y-ohou crehetin!” Izaya giggled, for it was giggling—that was unmistakable. He jumped and twitched underneath the other, his face flushing an embarrassing shade of pink. This was ridiculous. Of all the things Shizuo could choose to do to him, he never understood why tickling was his favorite. It was undignified, childish, and entirely beneath him.

And maybe, just a little, tiny bit, fun.

Not that he would let the other know that, of course.

“Is something the matter?” Shizuo teased, scribbling fingers under his arms to hear the accompanying shriek it produced. It was endlessly entertaining watching the composed man fall to pieces in his arm over something so simple. He never grew tired of it. “Does it tickle too much for the great Izaya Orihara? Is the famous info broker too ticklish to handle this?”

Izaya felt like his body would never be the same hue again at this rate. He wanted to hide his face in embarrassment, or at the very least cover his mouth to conceal the high-pitched laughter escaping him. Unfortunately, every time he tried the tickling would grow more intense and he would be forced to bring it back down again. It was an endless cycle, one he couldn’t help but participate in.

“Having some trouble getting your words out?” Izaya’s fingers had closed about Shizuo’s wrist, but they clung there uselessly, unable to prevent his hand from continuing its ticklish expedition along his torso. Currently, Shizuo clawed at his stomach, a spot that produced the most adorable sounds from the other, his body doubled over in an attempt at vain protection. “How about this—I’ll make it easy for you. Apologize and I’ll let you go. It’s that simple.”

Izaya scoffed incredulously through his laughter, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous proposition. “A-Ahahas ihihif Ihihihi wohohould e-ehehever, geh, ahahapologize to, aha s-shohort-fuhuhused lohohoser lihihike yohohou!”

“Loser, eh?”

Izaya squeaked as Shizuo latched suddenly onto his hips, his thumb pressing directly into the bone in a way that sent electricity shooting throughout his nervous system. He jerked back, his laughter exploding in frantic bursts as he squirmed desperately to get away.

“Ah! WAHAHAIT, SHIHIHIZUHO, NAHAHA!” He shoved uselessly at his hand, trying to dislodge it from the spot to failing efforts. His eyes were screwed shut, his mouth splitting wide in an uncharacteristically genuine grin. “I-IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES, SHIHIHIT!”

“Say you’re sorry.” Shizuo was relentless, not letting up for a moment. The intense tickling on such a sensitive spot was quickly driving Izaya up the wall, and before he knew what he was doing, the words were falling from his lips.

“A-Ah, fihihine, fihihIHIHINE!” He jumped from foot to foot, his laughter dissolving into helpless cackling as he threw his head back. “I’m sorry! Ihihi’m sohoHOHOHORRY! A-Ahahaha, ShihiHIHIHIZUHUO!:

With a satisfied grin, Shizuo relented, releasing him. Izaya slumped back against the other, burying his face in his chest and grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to support himself.

“Mean,” he mumbled, his words muffled from the position. “Shizu-chan is a mean and callous brute.”

“Is that so?” Shizuo replied fondly, brushing his hair back from his face. He felt Izaya soften against him, melting into the touch despite himself. He tilted the other’s chin up, leaning in to kiss him, but Izaya quickly turned his face away.

“Absolutely not,” he sniffed petulantly, releasing him to cross his arms stubbornly instead. “As if I would kiss an evil brute like you after what you did to me.”

“You say that like you don’t enjoy it,” Shizuo pointed out. Izaya blushed, refusing to meet his gaze. “Fine then. You’ve forced my hand.”

Izaya squawked, lurching backwards when Shizuo grabbed his hips again, sending him quickly back into a fit of giggles. “W-Wahahahait, ohohokay, ohOHOHOKAY!”

Shizuo stopped, pulling him in and stealing the remaining laughter from the other’s lips with a kiss. “You’re so cute like this, you know,” he murmured afterwards, pulling away to look into his eyes.

Izaya froze, his heart stuttering in his chest. After a moment, however, the smirk was back. “I’m afraid I can’t say the same about you. Don’t worry though—I’m sure one day you’ll grow into your looks.”

Suffice it to say, Izaya did not learn his lesson that day. 

[choiwrites]

kth | wolfgirl (m.)

Words: 10k  Genre: twlight!au, it’s new moon but taetae as jacob, ur bella but you have a personality :o, oh also smut and a little angst Warnings: no protection and no fcks given, language ig?, descriptive seggs lol, vampires and all that bs if that triggers sum of yall, oral (f receiving), tae is younger than u and kind of a sub (dom tae is overdone we need change in this country) i cant think no more no thots hed mt Rating: 18+ Song: Iron & Wine - Flightless Bird, American Mouth Summary:  During your stay at your Aunt's house in the wet town of Forks, you never thought the boys next door will change your perspective in how you see the world.

The weather in Washington was something you’re not used to. You can never go places without getting mud on your shoes and it takes more than your patience to clean them every time before going out. Sure, it was great to experience a different weather other than the blazing sun in Los Angeles, but it was hard to adjust. You weren’t ready for it with all the sleeveless and loose tops you brought from Los Angeles.

After months of debating with your mom, you decided it would be a great way to spend your summer vacation turning your camera focus into something more dark and cloudy. Your professor had also suggested that it would look good in your portfolio if you try different moods in photos other than the hot weather in Angeles. So, you thought about it for months before asking your mom to buy you tickets to see your Aunt Sylvia who you're currently living with for the meantime.

She was in her mid-thirties, but she looked younger than her real age. She knew how to groom and with the way she looks, she probably had that life during her high school days. You rarely see her though, you can remember all the conversations you both had. She leaves home early for her duty at the police station as an attending desk officer. Her place wasn't big, an average suburban house painted in cold tones of white and gray with dark furniture inside. It's not your typical definition of cozy. Good thing you brought your two sweaters — one with a Christmas tree embroidered on it and one with the phrase "'tis the season!" Wearing a sweater in Los Angeles only means one thing, and that is the season of giving. But who cares, it's not like anyone was going to notice, right?

About to finish the second cup of black tea, an idea pops into your mind about what Sylvia had said about the landscapes nearby the house. However, she had warned you about the risks of a few wild coyote appearances, but one could call you a junkie. There’s no fun in danger, but dangerous does rhyme with adventurous.

A cool whip of breeze enters the thin fabric of your sweater, immediately regretting stepping out of the doorstep after locking the door. As you are approaching the back of the house to enter the woods, young laughters echo through the area, lessening your fear for a bit. It must be safe if a group of teenagers are hanging out in such a secluded forest.

Unbothered by the noises, whether they were from teenagers or not, you make your way further into the woods of coppery branches on the endless verdant ground with subtle eau de nils. It’s like walking into a surreal three-dimensional render of a forest, too perfect to be right in front of your eyes.

It was quiet and serene in the woods. Aside from birds chirping, it felt like out of this world. It was an alien planet. Everything was green — the moss surrounding the place, every tree had some sort of fungi beneath it, the soil dark brown as if staring right into the earth’s eyes. The very healthy kind of earthy, and it was easier to breathe in the forest than it was in the city of Los Angeles. No wonder why they're both on the opposite sides of the country. They're literally poles apart. Being at Forks, it's as if you were able to be in a different country. It was secluded, unlike in Angeles, there are people in every place you go.

While changing the film of the camera, a strong gust of wind on your left side. So strong that your body stumbled onto the ground. You were on your knees, camera shattered as it hits a hard medium-sized rock. You break a couple of curses to the wind.

The camera looked hopeless with lenses separated from it, lying in pieces against a rock.

"What the hell was that?" 

There had to be some kind of a fast animal that ran from your side, which quickens your pulse, but the devastation you felt for the camera overthrew that fear. When you caught a glimpse of the 'wind,' it was human-like. It ran around in every direction surrounding you,  freezing you into place. The only thing you were able to do was to keep watching the human-like creature run in circles like lightning. You tried standing up, but it approached you in a rapid current that you fell into place again. But you couldn't see it, you weren't able to look into its eyes.

"You shouldn't be out here alone,” behind you says.

You whimper, embarrassed when the deep voice sends hums into your nerves.. 

"Why didn't you run?" He looks at you with knitted brows as he approaches to help you get on your feet. He’s far too attractive to be a wild coyote, you slap that stupid thought away.

"I... I didn't know what to do,” you force out, still affected by the broken camera and creeping fear.

He was around four inches taller than you. He looked about your age. Dark thick hair, with light brown irides inside his almond-shaped eyes. His skin was of a rich walnut tan, and his dark green hoodie complements that. 

"You must be Sylvia's niece. I'm Taehyung,” he said in a sultry manner as he offered a hand for a handshake.

"How do you kno-"

"She told us. My family's close with Sylvia. Our mothers used to be best friends, y/n." He puts his hand back in the pocket of his hoodie.

A tinge of embarrassment brushes through your cheeks, feeling guilty that you didn't give him a handshake. But all of that is ignored when he smiles.

"Did I creep you out?"

You chuckle softly. "No, of course not. I'm just still in the moment... of processing." You ease him, as if you were able to read the tension in his undecipherable eyes.

There was a few seconds of silence before Taehyung spoke again when he noticed your camera on the ground.

"Hey, we have a technician at home, maybe he has some tools he could help you with."

He was absolutely gorgeous. You find yourself lost in his face, studying his features and every little action he does. He would look so good as a muse. If only you could capture him right now, he'd be perfect under the clouds that create shadows that contour his cheeks and makes his eyes even more mysterious.

"Don't worry, you can trust me. Sylvia knows where I live,” he adds. 

Though that doesn't really solve the problem, you find yourself walking with Taehyung in the woods, drifting away from the devastation and fear from earlier. 

The laughters were from them. The laughs you heard earlier before entering the woods were from Taehyung's friends. They confirmed that they were walking around the woods earlier and that they passed by your house. All looking friendly with similar doe eyes, almost like they were relatives. They were all in a circle, all of them sitting on a chunk of thick logs, dressed in a similar way. The men were younger than you, but there is a girl who's older than you. She didn't seem as friendly as the others as you notice the judging glances towards your way. She had shoulder length of hair and she was just as tan as Taehyung. Taehyung discussed each of them one by one to you, all of them introducing themselves in an endearing manner except for her. Only saying her name was Leah and that was it, which made you feel an ounce of intimidation.

"So, y/n, how long do you plan to stay?" Embry, the one with the shortest hair, asks as he plays with the two twigs he'd been digging up dirt with the moment you arrived. His color was a tad bit darker than the others. He had a grin that could steal every girl's heart. He was gorgeous. They were all just as gorgeous as Taehyung.

"Oh, one month. I have a college application to fix back home,” you answered surely. You were only here to take photos for your college portfolio, and making friends was out of the picture until today.

"Sucks for Tae, I had a feeling you could be more than a willing candidate to be his girlfriend." Everybody laughed except for you and Tae who exchanged awkward glances at each other.

"Stop it, Bry." Taehyung wanted to laugh along but embarrassment got the best of him.

"She looks so out of place. You probably party a lot in Los Angeles, don't you?" Leah gives you a stern look, seriously waiting for your response. She only wants to get a reaction from you and you weren’t the only one to get the feeling as the group feels the rising tension between the both of you.

"No, I don't go to parties. Mom is very strict." You tell her. You didn't want the group to feel that you were intimidated, after all, you wanted to befriend everyone.

"She'd be perfect for our overnight tomorrow then." She prickly grins.

"Right! Want to join us in La Push? It's the nearest beach out here. We'll have bonfires and such," Seth, the youngest one with the tiniest body (still bigger than yours), expresses in excitement. Out of all of them, Seth was the friendliest. 

"I'll go talk to Sylvia for you, if you want." Taehyung raises his brows. He had been laughing quietly ever since he had brought you to meet his friends - which seems like he regrets, additionally. He was more mysterious than you thought. He didn't share much of his life during the discussion, only three things: his last name was Kim, he’s 20 years old, and he lives at the rez along with the rest of the team.

"Sure. I'll just bring my other camera." You smiled.

Taehyung said that he'll get Chase, a friend of his who wasn’t part of the circle, to fix the broken film camera. He assured that it will only be a matter of three days before the camera is all yours again. After a few more useless fun discussions, you had forgotten that the sun had settled for a while. When Taehyung realizes your face of worry, he offers to give you a ride home. Great, a ride with the wild coyote who had immediately earned your trust by rising a brow. You wouldn’t be so shocked if you end up ‘missing’ in the news in the next hours.

He owned a Chevy pick up truck. It was red, but faded, making it seem vermillion in color. It had a few dents and you were sure that it wasn't one of the smoothest rides you've ever had. But Taehyung made a few jokes about how he feels uneasy with the truck as well, only to reveal that it has been with him ever since his birth.

"It's great. Very retro." You gave him a smile to let him know that he doesn't need to feel embarrassed with his truck.

"Shut up, Y/N. I know it sucks, okay. I can't even play a single song here without a static." He laughs and you admit it.

He gave a charming wave to your window and had a small chat with Sylvia, who’s been home for hours, before leaving, probably about the La Push trip for tomorrow. Once you've changed into your pyjamas, Sylvia knocks on your door as you are about to settle in bed.

"Tae told me about the La Push camping tomorrow,” she began.

"Are you gonna let me?"

She smiles in an assuring way. You can't deny how lovely she looked with her hair down, her waves framing her heart-shaped face. "Of course, honey. You better wake up early tomorrow. Tae told me that he'll pick you up by seven." She winks and rubs your shoulder before heading downstairs.

A beach trip in a cloudy town without bringing any hoodies with you? Sounds about perfect, if you’re looking for a hypothermia attack. And you were never a morning person either so it’s a big mystery why you even agreed to go in the first place. The waking time in Los Angeles was ten in the morning. In Forks, it was seven. 

When Taehyung arrived, he was wearing a black shirt and a black leather jacket, pairing it with slightly oversized pants. He looked bigger than yesterday, maybe it was the jacket that made him look buff. He waved softly before you even stepped out of the doorway. He was carrying a medium-sized paper bag with small wet stains.

"My sister made us breakfast. Just in case you didn't have enough time to prepare," he opens the car door for you and waved to Sylvia goodbye, "thought you'd take more time because you probably wake up late in the city."

“I’m somehow a little offended with that assumption,” you cooed and he replied with a stammering laugh, unsure whether to take it as a joke or not.

He fumbled with the stereo and it played better than yesterday, giving you a sloppy smile as the first chords of Creep by Radiohead plays.

"You fixed it?" You take a bite from the sandwich his sister prepared. You thank God his sister prepared it for you, your stomach would be growling by now.

"Yeah. I just didn't want us to have that awkward silence along the way." He breathily laughs.

Everything Taehyung has is beautiful. He had an amazing laugh, a deep sultry voice, and doe eyes. He's simply astonishing. You were sure that everyone he has met so far had fallen in love with him. You weren't one to deny that either.

It took around fifteen songs before the both of you arrived at the beach — thanks to Taehyung's amazing playlist. It was quiet, the weather didn't change much in the place. Still cold and dark, untouched by a glimpse of sunrise. It was windier than the rest of Forks, and you wore your Christmas sweater to at least help with the cold a bit.

It was weird to say, but Taehyung radiated heat whenever you were near him. It's like when you're not around Taehyung, you feel the coldness of Forks. His truck didn't even feel cold though his air conditioning was on, you just felt a sense of unfamiliar comfortable heat you found yourself curling in your seat minutes ago. The group welcomed the both of you except for Leah of course. Sooner or later, you knew you'd start to hate her.

"You guys are early,” you tell Embry and Paul as they greet you with warm hugs.

"Of course, we are. It's La Push, baby." Embry gives you a wink and you blush.

"Okay, Bry, I haven't had my breakfast and you're already winking." Paul fake puked and the rest of the group laughs.

They started setting up tents as Taehyung offered to take your bag when he noticed how it's weighing you down. Before he could put it in the tent, you took your digital camera and started roaming around by yourself to take pictures of the view. Astounding as you had expected. It's like you were in the middle of nowhere. Only Taehyung's friends were at the beach which was a lucky shot for you and the group.

"Set up the fire, Tae! We're having breakfast." Leah yells across the place as she places the logs in the middle of the circle the tents are built in.

Taehyung sighs loudly. "Get ready for the Quileute Tribe stories." 

"You seem tired of it, you joked.

While Taehyung builds a fire with the rest of the boys, you secretly take pictures of him busy as the both of you keep talking.

"It's always the story every camping day. The Quileute Legends, you know? The scary stuff." 

You knit your brows when the word ‘scary’ comes into play, bringing your camera down to take a better look at the almost sweaty Taehyung.

"Scary stuff? How scary? Thrill me." You weren't aware as to how much Taehyung also studies your features. He wanted to know you better, but he was afraid of scaring you away by asking too many questions. It had always been his issue, scaring people away from him. And this time, he didn't want to let you in like the others, he just wanted to be acquaintances. But the more he spends time with you, the more he wants to be near you as if there were magnets pulling you together.

"I don't know what would thrill you, y/n. But the world is darker than you think, it's not always safe." He gives you a look. It was impossible. You were five feet away from him, but you could almost see your reflection in his eyes. It was too comforting. You were devoured by his eyes, falling steadily into his charms.

"I know. It's just as scary in L.A., I mean," you gulped, "crime is everywhere. Can't really stop it." You explained.

"It's not always crime that's scary, y/n. I'm talking unexplainable things." He smirks.

"Like paranormal?" You gaze away from him, starting to take pictures of the beach. But no matter how hard you try to distract yourself from Taehyung, your eyes keep falling on him.

"More than paranormal. Ghosts are easier to believe in."

You inhaled sharply. "I mean those are just legends, right? What's with the obsession in the Qui-Quileute Tribe?" You struggled pronouncing the word.

"It's not me. It's a tradition." There was a moment of silence before you could think of what to say again.

"Delete my pictures by the way." He scoffed.

"I thought you didn't notice."

"I was posing." 

You laugh at his joke, still certain you're never deleting any of his pictures, most definitely the one when he accidentally looked at the camera.

"You look sort of beautiful in the camera." Your lids flutter like a high school girl. “Not just in the camera, I mean… haha.”

He stares at you in confusion, and somehow you always find yourself frozen and embarrassed whenever he looks at you. "Sort of beautiful? You're more naive than I thought." He removes his jacket and throws it on the log nearby, revealing his buff body. You look away in discomfort, you didn't want to find yourself checking him out. "I'm not what you think I am. And I don't think you want to know."

"Maybe I do." You point the camera towards him and take a shot of his reaction. You wink.

The clouds hovering above the clamorous sea tell that there's probably rain coming, but it seems like the group wasn't bothered by it at all. You were sitting next to Taehyung two feet away from you on the logs nearby the fire that Seth had given up trying to help making after a couple of failed attempts. His heat never failed to linger around you though.

Sam was discussing the Quileute Legends and the group was very fascinated with the story, even though Taehyung had confirmed earlier that they've already heard the story too many times from their own families. Sam was good. He had a way in telling stories. You find yourself actually believing the legends. Werewolves and vampires? Shapeshifters and Children of the Moon? You weren't one to believe in such fantasies. You liked to watch historical movies more than fairytales, but with the way Sam elaborated every part of the legend, you can't deny the shiver that you felt when he discussed the cold ones.

Fast like lightning. Beautiful and alluring. Undead without a soul.

You thought it was ridiculous for Sam to even give out a warning about the cold ones. You were suppressing your laugh a little bit, and you were sure Leah already had her eyes on you. Why would Sam give out a warning about the cold ones? It's not like they were actually real. He also mentioned a treaty. And he sounded pretty serious about it too, even Taehyung was carefully listening. All of their eyes were on Sam, except for Leah.

Sam talked about a specific family of the cold ones, that they proposed a treaty. These cold ones are not allowed to hurt anybody from Forks, or else the mentioned werewolves are allowed to pose a fight with them. He talked about it like it was a plan.

It was afternoon and the clouds were still as thick as it was in the morning, but rays of sunlight shone through the gaps between the dark clouds. It looked ethereal, an aesthetic you'd only see in paintings. You thought those paintings are only manifestations of amplified emotions of the painter, but here you are, smiling to your camera as you take hundreds of shots.

"Save some memory for the other landscapes," Taehyung says beside you, throwing pebbles to the water, each bouncing impressively for three times.

"I know, I just can't get enough of this. You don't see that in L.A." You pointed your index finger towards the horizon of the sea.

"Yeah, but at least you can swim in LA. It's too cold out here to even go for a swim,” he emphasized.

"Not when you're around. It's weird, but I feel like you have a fever. You're too hot."

He raises his brows . "I know I'm hot," he chuckles.

"I didn't mean it like that,” you protest, though you know for a fact, Taehyung right. If he were to live in L.A., he'd be escorted many times by a modeling agency.

"So, I'm not hot?" You knew he was teasing and your embarrassment was obvious enough because of the blood rushing through your cheeks.

"You're attractive. I'm sure you know that." You roll your eyes, trying to keep everything casual — which is getting harder and harder every time he's around.

"No, I don't,” he teased. He was obviously getting pay back on you for taking candid shots of him earlier.

Your eyes landed on Sam and Emily play-fighting in the sea, just the sight of them being happy made you feel a bit of a heartache. You were a sucker for romance. The boys told you earlier that they were engaged for three months now. Leah was Sam's ex-girlfriend and Emily was Leah's ex-best friend. Finally putting the pieces together why Leah was one of the hardest to be with. She was extremely hurt and broken. She would rather shut the world out rather than let anybody in. She would rather be alone, than find anyone again who could possibly hurt her.

"Look," you poked Taehyung who was too busy throwing pebbles, "Sam and Emily are swimming. We should too!"

Though you were shivering, you bravely took off the mustard jacket that Taehyung had let you borrow. You were left with your thin brown tank top and denim shorts. He's still in his black shirt, unbothered to even take it off nor his jeans.

"What are you doing? Let's go." You tell him as you walk towards the sea.

This was a bad idea. It felt like ice was draping all over your body. How can Emily look like she's having fun when you're over here freezing just by stepping into the water? Half of your body was shivering from the wind, the lower half was for sure numb. You wanted to slap Taehyung for taking so long to get in with you, and you weren't even sure why you were so desperate for him to get in with you. It's not like he had a heater with him.

It took Taehyung a few more seconds before he started taking his shirt off, revealing his caramel skin, but it wasn't his color that caught your eyes, it was how built he is. His body looks like it was sculpted by the most talented and precise sculptor. It was defined, and shadows are doing magic in giving it silhouettes in the right areas. The best part about it was how shy he was taking off his clothes, like a teenager getting ready for his first swimming lesson.

He was for sure planning to swim today, revealing the gray trunks he’s wearing underneath his jeans. He needs a bigger one that fits him better, because the trunks he's wearing isn't doing him any justice.

Okay, no. Maybe it was justified by a subtle outline of his —

Don't even look down there, y/n, you tell yourself.

You didn't know where to focus. His thighs were just as eye-catching as his abs. Just as toned and thick. It would be such a material for thigh riding, you thought and you quickly shake your head at the idea. It has to be the waters that did this to you. Time has never been more relevant when he was walking towards your way, as he scoops water with his hands to wet his hair, while biting his bottom lip and giving you a small smile after.

"Freezing?" He smiles, eyes pierced on your small body. You were hugging yourself, embracing yourself from the fact that if you let go of your hands, you might touch something else.

"You were taking so long." 

He chuckles before holding your arm, taking it off your body. "Come on, dip your whole body." He pulls you softly towards the ocean, the sound of walking through water comforting your ears.

He was a foot away from you, the water level was on his chest and so was yours, but slightly higher. He looked even more godly. His hair pushed back, and to see his face in its entirety was a blessing, a gift.

None of you dared to talk, and you thought it was better that way. You just get to stare at him, as the sunlight lands itself upon his bronze eyes with specks of gold if you would close enough, majestic indeed to see something like that once in your life. You'd wish to wake up to that every morning.

There was this comfortable silence between the two of you. Drops of water fall under his eyelashes, fluttering them as he struggles to stare back at you. The moment was ruined when he suddenly smiled and looked towards Embry and Paul. Embry was sitting next to Paul, staring at the both of you while laughing. You shrug, feeling invaded.

"Why? What is it?" you asked Taehyung.

"They're thinking ridiculously."

 You furrow your forehead. "How do you know?" He tightens his hold around your arm as he keeps you steady near him, aware of you struggling to touch the floor.

"I just know," he softly plants circles on your arm with his thumb, "trust me."

"Maybe we shouldn't stand too close to each other then. I think they're making a big deal out of it." You didn't want to come off feisty, but you guessed it went that way for Taehyung as he moved away from you without letting you go.

"No, they're not. They're just teasing." When he said that, it was like he only said it to get near you, to assure you that it was okay to be close to him like that.

"Still cold?" he asked.

"Not so much anymore." You muttered. There were so many questions you wanted to ask Taehyung, but your voice isn't very trustworthy at the moment. You know it will betray you the moment you open your mouth.

"Penny for your thoughts? Why did you want to swim?" His voice was soft, calming as the ocean.

"I wanted to test how warm you can make me, even in freezing water."

He laughs breathily. "Seriously?"

You nod. He wanted to tell you a lot about himself, but like you, he was just as scared. Skinny dipping wasn't really your thing, especially in cold water, so after a few more moments of swimming and small talks with Taehyung, you let yourself dry by sitting next to the tent, keeping yourself busy by viewing all the pictures you took.

It was four in the afternoon, and the sun looked like it was already setting. Time was almost irrelevant at Forks, you wake up and the next thing you know, you're already getting ready for bed. Even though today was quite eventful, the clock still ticked quickly.

Feeling dry enough, you walked to the other side of the beach, Embry had mentioned that there was a cliff nearby along the woods. Though Taehyung was busy drying himself and laughing with the others, he glanced your way as you were heading towards the woods. You lifted your camera so he knew what your motive was, and he flashed a sly smile.

Trees. Cliffs. Birds.

The place could be a haven for the National Geographic Channel.

"I thought the pack wouldn't ever leave you alone like this." A deep voice spoke behind you, his english accent was thick and strong. You were sure that if you turn around, he’ll be ten feet away from you. You regret blinking your eyes, because the next thing you knew, he was right in front of you. His expression with so much thirst, so much hunger. For what?

You only inhaled sharply, first thing coming into your mind, confusion overpowering your nerves. You examined the man before you quickly. Olive skin, dark ruby eyes. His skin was inhumanly shiny, he almost looked dead, but in a mesmerizing type of way. He had dark purple circles, but his eyes were beautiful enough to distract you from it. He mirrored a cement under sunlight, he had fragments of diamonds and glitters on his skin. It wasn't your brain consuming you but his visual, his aura.

"Didn't bring your dog with you?" You weren't sure what he meant. He takes a step forward to lean into your ear, and your feet beg to stay, your eyes staring deeply in his beauty. You were too engaged, everything about him had you in place.

"You smell different from the others. Are you aware of that?" His breath touched your skin and there the exact opposite of heat seeping in your skin. “La tua cantante. I can hear your blood flowing through your veins. I can hear your heart. It's beautiful." He sniffs your neck as he hisses.

He wasn't human, and this time you were sure. He had danger lingering in his eyes, but it dressed so captivatingly beautiful, you found yourself lost.

"It won't hurt, I promise. It will be just a tiny bite, you won't even feel it."

There were words coming out of your mouth, you swore that. But nothing, your mouth still and close. It's sort of like he had power upon you, controlling and manipulating your body to be a mannequin. 

"Shh, don't fight it. You won't win over me." His teeth were grazing on your neck, seeking for a soft spot. You were unsure of his nature, what could he be?

An alien from this alien planet? An experiment gone wrong that escaped from a lab, perhaps? Maybe a demon, or an angel. A greek god of some kind?

They were all terrifying.

At the corner of your eye appeared a shirtless Taehyung, but he didn't look like himself. He was red, smoke flaring around his body. His chest expanded by time, and when you felt a small sensation of sharpness on your neck, Taehyung jumped towards the man.

No, it can't be.

This isn't Taehyung. Taehyung was gone. Maybe you were imagining things, but you felt all of them happening in front of you. As the man got distracted, your senses came back, falling on your side from losing balance. You pushed yourself away from the two monsters, as you would describe it. This wolf was huge, enormous. Any man who would try to fight it will easily lose. It stands almost seven foot, three bears wide.

Without trying, the creature had already decapitated the man. You weren't sure how to feel — safe or worried — but you were sure that you are mortified, and your face clearly expresses that.

You were only moving away from this huge thing in front of you, maybe that'll help you escape. But you don't even know if you wanted to escape. A part of you believes that Taehyung is inside that wolf, maybe eaten alive, or a spirit. 

So much for the wild coyotes, thanks for the heads up Sylvia.

Your eyes met his. Dark bronze eyes with specks of gold if you look close enough. You could almost see yourself in them, they were that kind. His eyes had a message for you, to approach him, to pet him, that it was okay and he will never hurt you. Before your hand could land on his lowered head, Sam and the others came running to help you, obviously seeing the wolf, but not even being bothered like you were.

"Y/n, are you alright?" Sam helps you stand on your feet.

Sam and the wolf had some kind of connection. Sam stared at it and the wolf left.

"So, wolves are normal here?" you spoke with a weak voice.

Sam opened his mouth and closed it again, thinking of how he can explain what just happened. You know that he knows something, and he was struggling to tell it.

"Where's Taehyung?" You scan their faces with no sign of Taehyung.

Holy shit! The wolf ate him! you thought. All you want to see right now is Taehyung. To prove himself. He can't be that wolf. The wolf must have eaten him. It is far too impossible for Quileute Legends to be real.

"We should get going before the other cold ones get here." Sam assists you to get back in the tents, completely ignoring your state of bewilderment.

Maybe it's a Forks thing to be mysterious and quiet. It irks you so much that none of them are even acknowledging what happened. This would be a great story for your mom.

Hey, Mom. Just wanted to call to tell you about how great my day was. So Taehyung, right? Aunt's neighbor, really hot guy I'd totally fuck, got eaten by a werewolf. But that's not too crazy, an incredibly beautiful medieval British man held me hostage, telling me he wanted to suck my blood. What a Forks thing! And everybody saw this huge tall wolf, I'm talking as big as a shelf kind of wolf, but they all acted like it was some puppy leaving the scene. Anyways, Mom, I'm traumatized. Going home in a week.

There is no way you can paraphrase that. No way you can make everything happening right now to sound normal at least one bit. This must be normal in Forks, but this is some Hollywood work in LA already. Things like these don't happen unless there was a shoot next door.

"Hey, you okay?" Leah approaches you. Her concern is seemingly genuine.

"I'm alive, guess I am okay. Where's Taehyung?" You don't bother to look at anyone at all, you drive your attention to the waves landing on the beach, hoping you could synchronize your breathing with them.

"Taehyung's fine. You don't have to worry about him."

"I saw him there. He was... he was red! Like he was burning! And... and there was smoke. Then I blinked, then there's a wolf. I swear it ate him!" Leah looked at you with wide eyes, but her lips were shaking trying to hide a smile.

"You're not taking me seriously! That wolf killed that guy! I don't know. He sounded British!" Leah bit her lip. "That was horrifying. I saw its head removed, there was no blood! What was that?" Leah inhaled sharply before looking at you with assurance.

"Can you calm down? The wolf you saw, don't you think it was described like the one in the legends?" Leah almost shouted, yet still controlling her laugh.

"Shapeshifters? Those are legends, Leah! The wolf ate Taehyung!" 

She chuckled. "No, they are real," she protested.

"The British man there was a cold one, a literal vampire. Taehyung didn't kill him, he was already dead."

No.

"Shut up, Leah. I know you hate me, but this is no time for jokes." 

She laughs harder. "You're right about me not liking you, but I'm not joking. That dark brown werewolf is Taehyung. One and only Taehyung. 20 year-old Taehyung who lives at the rez. That Taehyung."

'The world is darker than you think. It's not always safe.'

Taehyung had already given you clues from the start. But a word from Leah wouldn't be enough to stop your mind from going everywhere. You needed to hear this from Taehyung.

It was twilight already and the group had decided to spend the night in their cabin, instead of the beach. Sam explained that it was for your safety which until now he hasn't elaborated yet. Emily offered newly baked muffins, but it was too late before you could grab one when all the boys devoured around them. You gave Emily a smile.

"You can have the next batch." She shied away.

Emily looks like an average girl next door. She had fringes and medium length hair, they were very flat. Her skin was like the others, tan and healthy-looking. One thing you haven't examined deeply about her were her eyes. Embry had told you once that staring at Emily would bother Sam, and when you first saw her, you knew immediately why. She had a scar on one of her eyes, they looked painful. It looks like a cat scratch, only if that cat was a lion. It covered half of her face, but that didn't stop her from being lovely. She was still pretty in every way.

Taehyung arrives at the cabin, looking at everybody except you, his body resting on the door frame. He was heavy-breathing like he just finished a race. Sam came after him, giving him a small pat then walking towards Emily. Taehyung's eyes remain on the floor. His actions were complicated. You haven't figured him out yet.

"Y/N, Tae, maybe you can talk outside alone." Sam smirks at Taehyung, and Taehyung smiles back.

'This is no time to be smiling!'

Taehyung finally looks at you before leaving the door and you follow. But he still hasn't talked. And your rage is piling up inside you, you finally take a step forward.

"Care to explain what the hell happened there? I thought you were swallowed by that — that thing!" He gulps, stopping his tracks and turning around to see your face.

"I was scared," you muttered.

He totally understood why you were scared. Because he was just as scared and confused as you when he first discovered who he was, and just like you, he chose to deny it in every way he can, and he hoped that denial can make a change.

"You're not supposed to know about this. I didn't want to put you in this position — of knowing what truly there is." His eyes are sad, like he was a missing child.

The same day Taehyung figured out what he was, his eyes looked exactly the same; with fear, agony, and deprecation.

"So, you're a werewolf?" You felt his pupils dilate.

He looked at you in disbelief as if he hadn't given enough clues yet.

"Werewolf. Shapeshifter. Monster. Dog. Whatever you call it, it wasn’t my choice." His voice was weak, almost ashamed of what he had just said.

"And you kill —"

"Vampires." He finishes your sentence before you could assume. "Just vampires. The cold ones? Those that violate the treaty? They’re real." And so the legends were correct and real, and the evidence stands right in front of you, breathing and staring at you.

But no matter what angle you look at him, he wasn't a monster. He is not what he is described in the fairytales. He wasn't a merciless creature, not even harmful. He was just this young boy who lived near you.

"I get that you're afraid of me. Trust me, so am I."

"I'm not scared of you. If it weren't for you I would be bloodless by now." You bit your lip. "But I'm still a little overwhelmed." You gulped.

He had no words, but he was relieved. And you knew that when his eyes twinkled, the kind he gave you when you were jamming to the songs he had in his truck.

"If it's okay for you, I'm inviting you and Sylvia to my birthday tomorrow. It's just a small gathering."

"Will there be drinks?" you kid.

"Sam doesn't really want me taking any drinks for the meantime." He chuckles.

"Why not?"

"He said that I can't be on alcohol during my first six months of phasing. Why? Do you drink?" he innocently asks.

"Was just teasing." You playfully pushed him before proceeding to walk back in the cabin.

Before you even knew it, Taehyung was irrevocably infatuated with you. He wouldn't have thought that a college girl would give a small attention to someone younger than her, or even finding out about who he truly is and still staying by his side. He had spent so much time denying who he was, but maybe being a werewolf isn't so bad after all, if phasing is what it takes to protect you or anyone at all.

You were just like what he thought you would be — kindred spirits.

The party isn’t filled with loud chats and crowds, it is a gathering. Taehyung tried his best to always stand by your side to give you ease in enjoying such an unfamiliar place as Sylvia gets indulged in conversations with the others, completely forgetting you. Every minute though, he'd have to leave you alone on the couch but he'd return as soon as he can.

There weren't much talks between you and him either, only a couple of smiles exchanged whenever Embry and Quil do something embarrassing in front of the both of you.

It seemed as if the night was the longest night of your life, only occupied with listening to others’ stories and Taehyung sipping a punch from his red cup. He had asked a few questions to keep things interesting, but it was hard to keep the mood flowing. You had asked about his hobbies and all the boring stuff you could think of, and surprisingly he would reply with enthusiasm like he have always wanted to be asked those questions. This makes you more curious how his daily life goes, how many people does he actually talk to.

When the hand of the clock drops at ten, you were just patiently waiting for Sylvia to get on her feet and cut the conversation with the others but she seemed to have consumed more alcohol than she could tolerate and the next thing you knew she was laughing like a maniac. You were stuck in a loop circle of smiling so thinly to everyone you get eye contact with.

You distract yourself with admiring the intricate designs of Taehyung's small home, and the thought of a young Taehyung growing up in where you're sitting currently makes your heart jolt. It's uplifting seeing his pictures on the wall, but there was a difference between his smile before and his smile now. One can easily tell which was more true. You had no clue what it's like to be his kind, hell even now you still can't believe what he is. But it sure shows in the way he had changed judging from the innocent photos that hang on the wooden walls. You've never known him since then, yet you wanted to restore this angel-being beaming at the sight of a camera who now hates being in photos because he thinks he's some sort of a monster.

You wanted to ask him about the pictures, the one where he was wearing a towel with a headband, the one where he was framing his face. All of them speak some kind of connection with you, maybe it's your love for photography that makes you feel this way, but innocence is one of the hardest thing to lay your lenses on.

Then you finally got it. What your professor was talking about, drawing something intangible to your camera. This is what he meant. Your gallery is only filled with landscapes, mostly the aesthetic of architecture and nature. Taehyung is what you needed to change the mood of your photos, not the weather, not the dark ambience of Forks, but his story. If only there's a chance for you to grasp his mystery in a single picture, his adventurous smile in one flash.

A pang of pain in your forehead pulls you back into reality, and the lights that stood above you only made it worse. You needed to leave immediately before the pain has you grunting. Welcomed with a wrapping breeze, you brace yourself and regret wearing the dress Sylvia begged you to wear. She said it was her favorite when she was your age, a Prussian blue dress that stops before your knees with tulle around the hem and a lighter blue ribbon on the chest.

Of course Taehyung who sits beside you would notice your leaving, and before you can inhale the fresh air from the porch, he was already asking what's wrong.

"I don't feel so good. I think I'm gonna have to go home alone since Sylvia's still occupied," you said, pushing on your temples with your thumb and middle finger.

"I can drive you home. I don't think they'd notice that we left, they're all pretty wasted." He chuckles, complementing the high tones of the strong wind that travels past your bodies.

"I'm really sorry. I'm being rude, I mean this is your party... your birthday party and you're going to drive me home."

He places the sippy cup on a coffee table near the entrance, and he was palming his pocket to reach for his keys.

"It's fine, y/n. The party's been dead four hours ago and I can't send you home alone. Do you have the house key or should I go back inside and ask Sylvia for it?"

"She gave me a duplicate. I think it's best we go now. My head's really killing me."

It was unusual, headaches. They rarely come to you since you monitor your phone usage and water intake. You hate getting them because you hated taking meds for it, and you just hoped Sylvia would have a stock of it. Your fingers have been roaming your forehead for a while yet you can't seem to navigate where the pain is, where it's beating. It would be better if you could massage it along the ride but you were struggling to even keep your fingers raised.

Taehyung stops the car in the middle of somewhere as you are hitting your head continuously on the head rest. It was quiet, a deafening silence that rang your ears that brought you to open your eyes. Taehyung wasn't in his seat anymore, only fog filling for his place crawling under your skin.

There was your breathing, crickets, and rustles of trees that travel the air. You weren't sure how to react but one was definite, you were scared. The hand resting on your thigh turning white and wet, breathing faster and heavier as the air seems to be corrupted with toxic poison that does nothing but suffocate you.

Don't get out of the car, don't get out of the car, you chant internally hoping it will help your situation.

"Hello, dear," a slinky voice says through the window, almost similar to the man— vampire from yesterday. Could it be? Could there be more? "Don't make me wait, dear. Open the door and make this easy for the both of us, hm?"

It sounds the exact same as the accent the man had with an alluring tone that draws you to open the door. However, it wasn't just her tempting attempt into convincing you to endanger yourself, the pain in your head inflates as you try to control yourself.

"You want it hard, my dear?" She smirks, you weren't sure but you hear the spread of the corner of her lips.

Then she was in front of the headlights, filled with rage, her eyes dark and dangerous as she showed her predacious teeth. From here, you can feel the vibration of her anger as if she had the ability to let you feel all the harnessed emotions inside her. You can count them one by one: anger, vengeance, and the feeling you get before success. None of them were positive emotions, none of them was mercy. She came here to accomplish one thing.

Your death.

Finally understanding it, inside her browbeating eyes were agony and mourning. She was here to avenge the death of the vampire that Taehyung had killed. She was as beautiful, as seductive with her pale skin and ruby lips, curly strawberry blonde hair that flows until her shoulders.

You discovered that there was a split second of slow agonizing memory of your life before it's taken, and you wished there was none. She runs towards you, careless whether she bashes her head into the glass. She takes your neck, her fingers poking specifically at the sides and right before you can regain your breath your eyes open.

Gasping and catching air, awakening in the seat with Taehyung by your side who drives in silence as Midnight Rambler by The Rolling Stones plays from his rusty stereo.

So if you ever meet the midnight rambler

I'm coming down your marble hall

Well, he's pouncing like a proud black panther

Well, you can say I, I told you so

He sits there, unaware of the chaos that repeats in your head. It all felt so real, the grasp on your neck that locks your throat, you could've sworn you've given your last breath. The pain had stopped, replaced by dizziness that you knew would pass as minutes go by. 

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Is there something on my face?"

You shake your head. "I didn't know I was staring."

That's right. You didn't know you were staring. There was so much comfort in knowing he never left, the heat of his presence brings you a feeling of security. It's okay now. Taehyung's still here. By your side.

Once reaching home, Taehyung does his best to assist you as though you were ill. It's cute how he acts that way, so careful, so gentle. Upon reaching your room, Taehyung stops before your bedroom door, almost waiting for an invitation.

"I should get going now. I'll tell Sylvia you felt sick." And before he could say good bye, you're already wrapping yourself in the blankets as he passively makes a step away from your door.

"Taehyung," you said, reaching out. "Thank you for today."

He doesn't turn back. "You're welcome. Also, thank you for coming."

A shiver spreads across your back when your lids start to fall, and your body jolts upwards. The beautiful woman from the early nightmare visits your mind again, her face inches from yours close to ripping it apart.

"Taehyung," you whispered, but he heard you within the thin walls of the lonely house. "Can you... stay for a sec? I... I had a nightmare earlier... felt so real. C-can you?"

He walks back, eyes landing everywhere except your body that waits for him on the bed. Is she serious? he thought as you opened the blankets for a space behind you.

"Until you fall asleep?"

You nod. He kicks off his shoes and he positions himself behind you, both of your breaths synchronizing as he lies down softly. You bury your cheek into the pillow when you feel his warmth wrap the room, the security coming back. You turn your head to see him watching you inches away, his hand keeping his head up as he rests his cheek against it. You take his free hand that lies on his right side, pulling it to your stomach requesting for him to scoot closer until his body brushes your back.

You can stay like this, for longer than you can imagine. Just the sounds of your breaths and the hums of his loud thumping heart that makes its way to your upper back, the release of breath from his nostrils that flies over your hair. Peaceful. Safe and sound.

In his embrace, you forget everything: the packing for Los Angeles, the fear of not getting into any university, the supernatural that you had discovered that you still cannot comprehend, the clouding fear that something is coming to get you. In his arm, it's like they never existed. The worries are nothing but disappearing sea foams, a water in heat that evaporates into thin air.

You enclose the hold in Taehyung's hand above your stomach, intertwining them for ease. Falling back into his embrace, he subtly moves away hoping you wouldn't notice. His warmth turning into heat, breathing ragged, hold on you tighter and stronger. Then you feel it, a gentle thrust behind you and he pretends to adjust position. He pulls you closer with the hand on your stomach and you sigh which caused a poking at your butt.

You may not be the smartest person on earth, but it doesn't take a book to know what it was. Taehyung murmurs an apology, his words passing by your neck which sends your stomach into a spiral. You rub your thighs together hoping to dissipate the throbbing in your core, not now.

Not now that Taehyung's beside you. Or maybe it should be now that Taehyung's beside you, you were open for a helping hand. His hand over your head tucks a strand of your hair, the finger brushing on your temple made your aching much harder to ignore. There would be no distraction, no having to worry about who will hear the both of you, for God's sake the house was built in the middle of nowhere, so you thought 'Fuck it.'

You tug his hand to the middle of your chest, to rest them between your breasts as your head turns to face him. He gulps, looking at you intently with lust hovering over his hooded eyes. You lean towards him, your lips reaching his and he pulls away for a second before diving back in. He had pillowy lips, and if it weren't for your hot need at the moment you would let your lips sleep on them for a longer while, but as of right now there are a lot of tensions that need handling.

You leave his hand on your chest while he's still shy to grope one of your breasts. Your hand then wrapping the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, he sighs. That sigh caused the aching to grow, shaking your behind to feel how needy he was and he sighs again. His hand that was on your chest now pushes below the curves of your breasts to pull you closer, to have more friction, to thrust into you.

Until he couldn't take it anymore, he wants you below him as much as you want him on top of you. He hovers above you, his knee swift in spreading your thighs open and he is bucking in a steady pace on your clothed entrance.

"Take me, Taehyung," you breathe the second he leaves your lips.

He takes it slow, burning your insides, as his fingers pull the bow on your chest, untying the effortless knot you had made in the mirror. Too slow to keep up with your throbbing heat, you trail his hand to open the loose front, exposing

your nude bra. His eyes are pinned on yours, and you would make quick glances at his moderate hand you're directing. You unclasp the front of your bra, and when he hears it setting on the bed, he kisses you as if asking if you were really sure. Beneath the feverish endless kiss were words of fear from him, what if he wasn't truly ready.

The last time he had experienced this was long ago, a time before he knew how dangerous he could be. Careless of what his hands could bring, when he hadn't given a single thought for any of his actions. Well, it was one time, only once with the first girl he had ever loved. And the first was always the quickest, but it was unforgettable, he had kept every detail of her daisy fresh skin remembered under his fingertips. The laughs they had shared in between, a significance of the innocence they were about to lose. His head loses in doubts, questions that can only be answered if he risks hurting you tonight.

Then you whisper, "It's okay, you're not going to hurt me." Because in your mind, that was the last thing in his abilities. You smile, "It's okay." Rubbing circles at the back of his trembling hand, his jaw clenches.

Once he had started kissing you again, you parted his lips with your tongue in which he had replied with a tender bite causing you to moan within your throat. This motivates him to grope your breast, aggressing as seconds pass by, pulling a nipple in between his fingers and you arch your back. You rest your feet on his back, synchronizing with the movement of his hips. You admire the way his head moves downward, stopping after every inch of your skin to place a soft kiss until he reaches your breasts to which he places a long stripe lick moving from one bud to another while his eyes remain on yours. He's going to be the death of you.

You pant, trying to reach his hips that came to a halt. His hands pushing the hem of your dress higher, stopping at the middle of your waist. And his evil slow hands, still taking his time, move behind your thighs to pull them away from his back and placing them on his shoulders as he gets comfortable right between them. With gaze pierced on yours, he flats his lips on your clothed slit, tracing the wet spot visible in your white underwear. The thought of you being almost naked underneath the dress ever since earlier brought Taehyung into insanity, he could've fucked you with his fingers on the couch, he could've removed them and left your pussy out in the open as he keeps it in his pocket, he could've done so many things if only he knew earlier how much you'd wanted him just the same.

You look at the empty ceiling, too affected by the darkness in his stare, you were scared you would cum too quickly if you remain watching. He pulls your garment upward to put his bare thumb against your clit, until you couldn't take it and you look down again to see him putting the said thumb in his mouth. Sweeter than the cranberry juice he'd been tolerating to drink, adding that to the list he could've done earlier while your panties were in his pocket; enjoying the sweet fervor of your cunt on his tongue. He plays at your clit, tongue curling to lap up the wetness that increases as his spit mixes in. He knows so well what he's doing, the fragile scoop of his bottom lip from your opening to your clit where he stops.

Everywhere around his lips glistens as the bright light from the hallway outside your room shines upon them. His hands still holding your thighs steady, he slips his tongue inside you which has you shaking and he had to adjust the control in his grip. Once they've settled, he puts his touch above your breasts, flicking both buds in each hand.

You were crumbling under him, desperate for release, grunting in a throaty voice as you tried to keep yourself together. Tears huddle in your eyes, blurring your vision until he stops, now smiling above you while he pulls your underwear away from your body. It doesn't take long for him to get naked and you take time to admire his build. His skin was made of honey, toned and reflective of the warmth he emits. His cock slapping his tummy before he could fully get out of his tight boxers, his tip reaching his button.

He returns to his position between your thighs but this time around he was the one to wrap your legs around his waist. His shaft falls between your slit and he makes subtle movements in burying himself between them.

"I just want to say," he began, "how amazing you are." A gravelly moan of your name escapes his lips as you take matters in your own hand, thumb going over the head of his cock while the rest of your fingers rest wraps his cock.

He thrusts into your hand. His face forming wrinkles, frustration painted across his face. Until he falls on both arms caging your head, bucking for more friction, enjoying the suppleness of your touch. He was groaning, panting, and making a mess of himself to which all echoes from one wall to another. You put a hand on his abdomen to break his movement. He obeys, feeling you part yourself for his cock, torturously slow in entering you.

You pull your hands to your sides, getting a hold of Taehyung's biceps. Opening your lids to watch his pupils dilate as he rams the rest of his length inside your beating entrance.

"Y/n," he groans, brow knotting together when you clench around him. He's going to fall apart, he thought. You wrap him tighter, letting go of yourself in ecstasy, careless whether you melt into the bed or break it, all is well as long as you're looking into his eyes.

He chants your name again and again in a symphony of continuous moaning, and all you could say is how good he sounds. A compilation of ah's and oh's whenever he reaches your spot, his head brushing against it and it felt like nothing but heaven. More, he wants more, if only he could fuck you endlessly he would. The bed hits the wall in coordination of his sharp thrusts, and he's losing himself in you he couldn't care less if he breaks the walls. In sync with the sounds he makes were your gasps and high-pitched whispers of his name that he can see himself in the near future thinking of them and fucking himself alone in his room as he recalls them.

"Tae— oh fuck, Taehyung," you cried out causing his cock to twitch inside you, you call out for more. His name and a couple of curses were the only words you could spew out. Trembling, you feel an explosion of euphoria inside you, letting go of the tight grip around Taehyung's arm.

With one last fluid thrust, he pulls himself out and spills himself on top of your stomach. Both of your breathing slows until they were no longer audible. He rolls to his back beside you waiting to cool down and you take care of yourself by wiping his cum away with the tissue from the nightstand.

"I'm sorry, I made a mess," he says, breaking silence.

You didn't reply, instead you lie on your side to face him and wrap his cock in your warm hand. His cock still hard and wet under your touch, he breathes out a long sigh. "I made a mess of you too."

He chuckles before placing one last kiss on your forehead, and you watch him fall into his dreams. You shut the door, thankful Sylvia didn't come home during the circumstances earlier. You make a note not to leave it open next time.

Next time? Were you actually hoping for a next time? It's not long until you're leaving. Forks is not your home. Your home is on the other side of the country, and everything you grew up with awaits there. Forks is not your home, you tell yourself. The night grows along with your need for sleep, falling onto Taehyung's chest and getting lost in a slumber. You wake to Sylvia opening the door, an indication of her coming home, and you fall asleep again.

The next time you wake up, the sun shining alight from the windows to your eyes, Taehyung was sitting at the end of the bed fully clothed. His head turns slightly, feeling the sense of your waking.

"Y/n, there's not just one who wants to kill you," he says but you couldn't make out a single word, "there's a whole coven of them."

a/n: happy new year! pls dont take the bella comment seriously. also team jacob ftw!!! also appreciate my banner work owo.this is my first descriptive smut like i actually write them having sex idk i hope yall like it tho :* i love y’all! 

[memeadonna]

Mind Over Monster

I wrote this for a friend, so if you're reading this: Hi RJ!

You and the Bakusquad (plus Shinsou and Jirou, because it is a crime to exclude them) survived the zombie apocalypse, and now roam around hunting down the remaining monsters and rescuing survivors. But you feel like everyone except you has a place in your little group. When someone in your group makes a potentially fatal mistake, you set out to prove yourself. But the question remains: did you ever even need to in the first place?

You kept your eyes closed as you listened, searching in the murmurs around you for something unquiet and unorganized. That was how you would know if there was danger. The mist had long since retreated, but the wind carried it to places where it would rest and collect and re-emerge, using the dead to do its bidding. “Anything?” you jumped and opened your eyes to see one of your companions balancing precariously on the roof of your car.

Kaminari Denki never stopped smiling, no matter what. And considering he was the only reason that you were able to drive this electric car anywhere at all, he was one of your team’s most valuable members. You… also didn’t need to know that he was eye-fucking you right now, but it wasn’t like he could help it. There’s only so much you can turn off in the human mind, and despite your best efforts you usually ended up reading too much into things. It was nice to know that all of your companions thought you were attractive, at least.

This had all started with an accident. An unknown person had been born with some sort of zombification quirk that turned people into mindless zombies forced to do the user’s bidding if they inhaled a mist the user secreted. That person had been killed in a violent car accident that had sent them over the edge of a bridge and plummeting to the dark, angry waters below. As they bled out, their quirk had somehow activated. Maybe it was their way of saying that they did not want to die. Mist had billowed up around them, and within a few hours everybody in that prefecture had been infected by the quirk. The infection had spread across the country and then the world within a few weeks, and now, a year later, this was all that remained. The creatures had never been meant to exist this long, so eventually they began to mutate as well. They gained the ability to infect other creatures through bites, or even absorb body parts and (in the cases of the rare bigger monsters) whole people.

You and your companions had been training to become heroes, but when society had collapsed your goals had changed to survival. Now you travelled around acting like vigilantes, tracking down reported cases of those creatures and protecting civilians. Your class had split off into three groups (as had your grade’s class B), and everybody in your squadron had a purpose.

Bakugou Katsuki was obviously your firepower. He was also your self-appointed leader, and was great at barking orders. Kirishima Eijirou was your muscle – the creatures couldn’t infect him with whatever virus they had (or absorb him, though many had tried), and usually he and Bakugou did most of the heavy lifting when it came to the fighting. Ashido Mina and Sero Hanta were both masters at setting traps or helping with evacuation efforts, and they were also both charismatic and cheerful and kept your group in high spirits. Shinsou Hitoshi could almost always control the monsters to some degree, and even if he couldn’t, he was also adept with his capture weapon and could easily change gears mid-battle. Kiyoka Jirou could detect the monsters moving from miles away, and the speakers on her hero costume were both useful in battle and in evacuation efforts.

Jirou and Shinsou both basically rendered you redundant. Your quirk was a mind reading/telepathy quirk that allowed you to locate monsters (they couldn’t suppress their subconscious thoughts, so it was easier to read their minds), but the more of them there were the more useless you became. You already tended to get lost in your thoughts, but with all of these thoughts swirling around you…

“Hey!” Denki snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Are you okay? Any monsters nearby?”

“Sorry,” you smiled up at him. “No, I don’t hear anything. Should be safe to stop here and recharge.” You hopped off the roof and went to go help pitch your tents.

While you loved the electric vehicle you had looted, it could only go so far with one charge, and it took a lot out of Denki to keep it working, especially considering he couldn’t just charge out of outlets anymore. That meant the group had to stop and make camp in the middle of the day and let him charge up the car. Despite being electric, it wasn’t exactly the most efficient car in the world.

At least it had lots of storage space. That meant you had lots of useful weapons and supplies for killing the zombies. That was no easy task.

The largest beast you had encountered so far had been around eight feet tall and had taken over the corpses of about six people and several dozen animals. These beasts weren’t usually able to use the quirks of the people they had absorbed, but some creatures were anomalies. The one you were hunting now was supposed to be one of those anomalies, and had apparently retained a teleportation quirk, making it tricky to catch. You supposed you could be a little more useful in this case.

“Hey! Stop standing there being useless and start a fire!” Bakugou dumped some of the wood Kirishima had just chopped into your arms, and you struggled to hold all of its weight. He laughed at you as you dropped a piece of the firewood and caught it with your foot. Mina came to your rescue and told Bakugou off with a laugh as you hopped off towards the fire pit. Even he thought you were useless. Especially he. Him. Whatever.

Shinsou used his capture weapon to lift the wood back into your arms, and you smiled at him. He understood you in a way nobody else did, and maybe it was because you both had mind-related quirks, but you found camaraderie in the fact that people tended to be driven away from you or mistrust you. Who would want to be friends with someone that could tell exactly what they were thinking, or with one verbal response could make them do literally anything?

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded as you knelt by the makeshift fire pit and started to stack the wood. “I’m fine, Shinsou,” you replied. “Just a bit of teasing.”

He walked over to the trunk and returned with a box of kindling. He balled up some of the paper and lit it when you were done. You couldn’t even do this small task without help. How useless did they really think you were?

You stood and looked around for somewhere else to help. Mina, Sero, and Kirishima had already set up the tent, Denki was charging the car, and Bakugou was digging around for something in the trunk. Shinsou walked over to go help him, and as you were about to check if Jirou needed anything you were grabbed from behind and lifted off the ground.

“Gotcha!” Kirishima purred into your ear, pretending to bite into your shoulder as he tickled you. You cried out in involuntary laughter, and kicked and flailed in his arms.

“Hey, put me down!” you tugged at the hands around your waist, and he finally listened to you, only for him to turn you around and pull you into a bone-crushing hug.

He pulled away and tilted your face up by the chin. “No more sad face, okay?” he asked softly. “Cheer up.”

Before you could respond, Bakugou started yelling again. “What useless fucker packed up the supplies?” He shouted, and if you weren’t used to that shout you would have probably flinched at the rough tone in his voice.

“Me and Mina!” Denki looked up from his charging duties. “Why?”

“You forgot our fucking food,” Bakugou growled. “Both crates full of food are missing! Seriously? Even people as inept as Y/n and Sero remember to bring the fucking food when it’s their turn to pack up!”

“Calm down Bakugou!” Sero stepped forward. “Is there any way you just missed it?”

Bakugou’s words washed over you like glass in your heart. You had heard them before – he was always calling you a dumbass, or a burden, and while he was that way with everybody, and they just shrugged it off, you just… never could. Bakugou had one of the most guarded minds you had ever seen, and regularly called you a Voyeur if he caught you staring at him for too long. You hadn’t purposefully read his thoughts very much, but his brain seemed to be full of those harsh words and nicknames. It would have been easier if you knew he didn’t mean them.

While your group argued (Jirou, Mina, and Denki were all screaming at Bakugou while Kirishima and Sero tried to break it up, and Shinsou watched with a tired expression), you snuck around to the back of the truck to retrieve a few weapons. You grabbed a small handgun (Yaomomo made you lots of supplies every time she saw you), and a few rounds of ammo. You also grabbed a metal baseball bat for good measure (better safe than sorry), and one of Bakugou’s mini grenades just out of spite. When you returned to camp with dinner in hand, you were planning on detonating it just to scare the bejesus out of him. You wondered if they would still be arguing when you got back.

Maybe they wouldn’t even notice you leaving?

Nobody stopped you as you set off across the field towards the woods. Nobody even spared you a second thought as their restless minds grew more and more distant. You relaxed as you realized you were alone, and hummed quietly to yourself as you crept through the woods looking for dinner.

The birds were singing, and the trees rustled softly in the wind as you wandered farther and farther away from camp. The small stream you crossed was probably where Jirou had collected water earlier, and just for the hell of it you decided to climb up the waterfall. It probably wasn’t the smartest move, but it was about a thirty-foot climb and it looked like fun. Once you were at the top, you followed the river upstream and searched for any thirsty wildlife.

Being the useless party member was boring. No matter what your companions did, you never seemed to be able to see the value in your own contributions. You were able to broadcast messages across large groups of people all at once, which made you invaluable both in evacuation efforts, and when planning strategies. Your range was somewhat limited unless you really pushed your quirk (if you were scared enough the words and pictures could travel up to five kilometers), but the ability to detect thoughts had less limits. Some people (like Bakugou) naturally suppressed thoughts, while others (like Kaminari) did not. It was easy to tell when the monsters were nearby because they could not repress their thoughts whatsoever. Even less than Kaminari. Everything blurred together in one big, overwhelming jumbled mess, and if there were a lot of them you were easily overwhelmed.

People you could deal with. You had grown up in a big city and gone to school in large classes, you knew what people were like. You could be in crowds with hundreds of voices and be unbothered, purely because it was all background noise. It wasn’t meant to be heard.

Sometimes, the monsters knew you could hear them. Sometimes they wanted you to hear.

You were dragged out of your train of thought as you caught sight of dinner. Drinking at the river was a boar, a yearling probably weighing about 45lbs. It hadn’t noticed you yet, and as you aimed your gun for it, careful not to make a noise, it didn’t stir.

A shot through the eye was all it took, and the animal dropped dead. You grinned to yourself as you approached it, and carefully picked it up and slung it over your shoulder. You couldn’t wait to see the look on Bakugou’s face when he realized just how useful you really were. You carried the boar back downstream, humming one of Jirou’s punk songs to yourself.

“Blood,” was the first thought that filled your head, and it made you halt in your tracks. It was so sudden, and so strong that it had startled you. You looked back the way you came and noticed that about two hundred yards away a figure crouched over where you had killed the boar, and as it uncurled its body vertebrae by vertebrae you felt terror grip your heart.

You were alone. Nobody was going to come save you. You were out of range.

The creature had a massive rack of antlers on its head – it had clearly been feeding off of the local wildlife to make it big and strong. Big and strong it was – towering at probably twelve feet tall with a lanky and deceptively fast body. Its mind was full of violent thoughts, and you heard each and every one. As you noticed it, it also noticed you. You heard its thoughts as they ricocheted around a brain that should not have had the capability to think, and as the word “Need!” filled your mind, it lunged for you.

You screamed in terror, and your quirk activated without your permission, sending the horrifying image of this thing leaping and bounding through the air towards you out in all directions. The image of itself halted it in its tracks, but it quickly shook the feeling off. You dropped your boar and aimed your handgun. The rounds did nothing, and the creature picked up speed again, unhinging its jaw and letting out a shriek so loud your ears rang. You fired into its open mouth, once more discharging an image of its maw. That also gave the creature pause, and as your handgun clicked out of ammunition, you reached for your bat and your grenade. Its eyes were so cold as it watched you change your stance, and you swallowed hard as you noticed tiny hands protruding from its chest. Those hands had once belonged to a child, and that made you angry.

Noticing the pattern, you started to send it random pictures and see what it reacted to. It seemed to recognize itself, so you started sending it pictures of its parts – deer, boar, birds, and eventually people. It kept coming at you, but it seemed almost dazed as it avoided your bat. You grinned to yourself as you assaulted it with more images and increasingly complex thoughts, not caring how you swung your bat. You landed a blow and it shrieked in pain. You then assaulted it again, sending it emotions and increasingly complex feelings. You recited math equations, explained how to start a fire, and told it about yourself in the blink of an eye, still swinging your bat. It connected with the skull-like head and broke the bone apart.

It felt anger now, you could sense it, and it wanted you dead. You kept bashing, overwhelming it psychologically. Then, all at once, you backed off. It shrieked at you as it retreated too, which gave you just enough time to chuck your grenade into its open mouth. You hit the deck as the grenade detonated, and the creature’s throat exploded outwards. As it fell to its knees, folding its long legs under itself, you stood once more. You then raised your bat high and dealt the killing blow to its head, scattering brains everywhere. You kept bashing for another thirty seconds for good measure, until all of the thoughts were gone, and the forest was once again quiet. You panted hard in the silence, and as you once more heard thoughts you gave the creature’s head another few bashes, even though you knew it couldn’t possibly have been the source.

By the time you registered the explosions behind you Bakugou was already sprinting towards you, yelling incoherently. Before you could get a word in, he was blasting the creature’s dead body with all he had. He then turned to you and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, one so tight that your back popped.

“Bakugou?” you asked in alarm, and he just held you tighter.

“Don’t fucking wander away, dumbass!” he pulled away to growl into your face, eyebrows knit. “We thought we’d lost you.”

The thoughts dancing around his head made you almost shiver. “Thank god they’re safe,” and a thousand variations of that hit you all at once, along with feelings of guilt and fear and pride as he took the time to appreciate the beast you had killed.

Sero was next to arrive, having scaled the waterfall in record time. He swung through the trees towards you, clumsy and graceless. His head was also filled with panic and then joy and then wonder as Bakugou let you go and Sero had his hug.

Jirou and Kirishima clamoured over the waterfall, Mina and Kaminari (who for once, wasn’t smiling) hot on their heels. You were pulled into several more group hugs, and as Shinsou approached even he wrapped you in his arms.

“Why the fuck did you go off on your own?” Bakugou yelled.

“We needed food,” you replied. “So, I hunted a boar, which we can’t eat anymore because this thing showed up.” you gave its carcass a kick. You then walked over to the boar cadaver, which was covered in goo and chunks of brain, and based its head in. You did not want this thing coming back in a new form. Either thing.

“Don’t wander off like that!” Kirishima stressed. “You could have gotten killed! If Bakugou hadn’t been here to kill that thing for you-”

“I killed it,” you cut him off, resting the bat over your shoulder and trying not to sound smug. “Apparently it’s not invulnerable to my quirk. I figured out how to use it. Guess I’m not so useless after all, even if I did ruin dinner. Sorry guys.”

Bakugou’s eyebrows twitched. “Who the fuck said you were useless?” he demanded.

“You did,” you replied. “Earlier today.”

“I told you to stop being useless. There’s a difference,” he grabbed you by the shoulders. “Listen to me. You are not useless. You don’t have to run off on your own and nearly fucking get killed to prove that, and I’m sorry if I ever made you think that’s what we wanted from you.”

Holy shit. Did Bakugou just apologize? To you? Were you dreaming?

He pulled you into another hug. “Don’t run off again, okay, dumbass?” he asked softly.

“Okay,” you smiled softly. “I can promise that.”

“Good,” he growled. “And we found the food crates. Turns out that Shitty Hair over here-” Bakugou punched Kirishima in the shoulder, “-put them away in the tent.”

Kaminari sobbed loudly, interrupting the moment. “Denki, don’t cry!” you were hugging him in an instant, and he clung tightly to you like you would just disappear if he didn’t anchor you. “I’m here, and I’m safe. I promise.”

“It’s not that!” he wailed. “We could have had bacon!”

[silverhandsamurai]

Heat • River Ward/Fem!V • NSFW

warnings; nsfw, minor swearing, sexual content 

summary; River needs a comforting touch V helps out.

Setting; postgame • dating a while

River had been short-tempered all day. His latest case was driving him up the wall. Countless leads leaving him empty-handed. Wanting to distract him I offered to take him out to lunch at the Chubby Buffalo. 

Not even a minute after our food arrived he was twirling his fork looking off into the distance.

" So I finally finished that gig in Watson today."

" Uh-huh."

" I danced on the moon."

" Uh-huh."

He wasn't paying attention at all. I didn't truly mind I knew he was working hard doesn't mean I wouldn't tease him about his lack of attention.

"So River mind helping me rob Arasaka and Militech of all their secrets?"

" Uh-huh."

I gave a sudden laugh jarring River from his thoughts as he suddenly held his fork a little too tightly and looked at me wide-eyed.

"Really officer? You'll help me steal? How sweet of you."

Heaving a sigh River leaned back giving me an apologetic look.

"Sorry. This case just has me going crazy."

I shook my head and reached across the table to take his free hand in my mine and lace our fingers together. " Hey, I get it. No need to explain. Happens to everyone. "

Relief flashed across his face and he gave my hand a soft squeeze. " You are amazing you know that?"

"Oh, I know. Keep goin' tell me more." 

I chimed grinning back at him playfully.  He hummed in thought for a moment before taking a sip of his drink. " Nah. Got nothin' more to say." 

I felt another laugh bubble up at his cheeky rebuttal. 

Finally calming down for a moment River started to eat his meal as he listened to me give all the fun details I had from dealing with my last gig.

We parted ways after lunch and I didn't hear from him until I got a message late in the evening.

It was really short and odd.

Hotel. Room 202.

He then sent another message with the hotel address attached.

Wasn't like River at all. 

I knew something was wrong.

Arriving at the hotel it was in the middle of the city. Not too fancy, but not rundown either. I walked through the lobby and no one was at the front desk so I just headed for the stairs checking each room number with a glance.

Once I found the right one I gave it a few solid knocks. 

I heard rustling on the other side of the door. Rocking back on my heels nervously I felt my mind racing as I waited for River to answer the door. 

Finally, it slid open to reveal him standing there looking as restless as I felt. " What the hell happened?" He shook his head and stepped aside to let me in. Confused I walked in and after the door closed I spun on my heel to glare at him. I was worried and he wasn't saying anything.

" Talk. You are seriously this close to- " Before I could say he was pissing me off River had slammed his mouth on mine and his hands were holding my hips firm.

Damn...he felt good. 

But as much as I wanted to give in to him I wanted answers first.

Reluctantly I pulled away nipping at his bottom lip as he hooked his grip under my thighs and lifted me. My legs naturally wrapped around his waist and my hands clutched his shirt.

" The client dropped the case. All that work was for nothing. " 

I could hear the anger and disappointment in his tone. I knew how much River prided himself on his work ethic and what being a private investigator meant to him. He always put everything into all his cases. Hours of effort and time. To have one of those cases suddenly ripped away was torture.

I knew then why he had messaged me.

River was seeking comfort and I was more than happy to provide it.

Tugging on his shirt I kissed him roughly.

Soon clothes fell left and right until no barrier stood between us.

Reaching out for him I slide down his body as he leaned back against the wall. My hands and tongue flowed along the curve of his hips edging lower. His breath halted and his hands were fast to grip my hair holding me still. He was pulsing filled with heat against my tongue as I eased him past my lips. 

It was hard not to have my throat tighten. 

He was thick and overwhelming.

I couldn't breathe...

I didn't care...

Deeper I pushed him drinking up his scolding touch. Even though I was in his grip it was my every move that was making him arch to my mercy.

It felt powerful having this man rendered helpless against me. 

A lick here or there. He was trembling.

His hands would rake through my hair making my scalp sting. 

" Fuck, V..."

His sudden raspy curse sent shivers down my spine. River's voice was huskily laced with a dripping want. River yanked me back suddenly causing pain to course throughout my head as his hold was unforgiving and aggressive.

I had pushed him close to the edge and he wasn't ready to fall yet. 

Instantly I was frustrated that he had stopped me. My body was craving his touch so I leaned towards him as he towered above me.

" Give me more.." A plead and a command. I was begging, but also demanding for him to take me.  River pulled me up by my hair then captured my lips silently giving in to my request.

His tongue thrust into my mouth.

Long, thick, and warm.

Filling my mouth.

Claiming it. 

Letting me taste and savor him.

He pushed and I pulled a power play. My hands were rough as I held him against the wall forcing him to submit. This taste. This touch.

 I needed more I needed to feel engulfed by it. 

Hunger surrounding me swallowing me in its embrace I leaned back falling into the bed beckoning with a wave of my hand for him to follow. His stance tensed and his jaw locked as he stalked forward the tension rippling off his skin as he edged to the bed. 

Such a large man unraveling within my grasp. Yearning for me with such need that just by looking at him I could see how much he wanted me.

The sight made me squeeze my thighs together as the ache inside me grew.

"Come here closer....hurry..."

I knew how desperate I sounded but I didn't care I needed to feel him right away. River answered without a word his lips on mine again. Gasping I could feel all of him. 

His touch. 

His heat. 

The pressure made my toes curl and my thighs shake as I gripped clawing at his back. It was burning this craving ache making me succumb to its whims.

Groaning deeply in my ear I knew River felt it too. Unbound tension building.  

It wasn't enough. 

Pushing using my weight I shoved River beneath me.  My hands gliding to his neck gripping tight forcing his focus on me. My back arched as I sank down on him my hands becoming talons as I ran my nails into his skin. 

Marking him as he did me.

River was biting his lip hard as his hands set firmly on my hips weighing me down. Anchoring me to him. I resisted pushing against his touch my hips dancing on their own.

My breath grew shallow as I felt my sweat become liquid heat along my hips licking at my sore muscles. I leaned forward losing some of my strength as my legs trembled.

The ache and need inside I couldn't reach it anymore. 

Begging River with just a look my eyes reflecting my inner struggle he was quick to act. His strong arms held me as he pushed up reaching far into my depths. My voice left me as my back hit the sheets. Powerful long strokes. Grinding me into the bed.

I was helpless my strength spent as my hands were barely able to hold onto his shoulders. He kept going supporting me never relenting.

The ache was like hot water now washing over me. Numbing me and burning me at the same time.

"River...please..."

Whimpers melded into moans as our voices entangled together. Every movement of River dulled the ache burning inside. Surrendering myself bliss took over soon as my mind and body felt engulfed. 

River's hands pried into my skin as I felt him yield to the same bliss.

His voice was raw as he held himself over me sweat falling down his brow.

So strong and wild.

I smiled fondly at him before kissing his breathless lips softly as he drifted down from his high. Pulling back I ran my thumb over River's swollen bottom lip and his dark and hazy eye followed my motions silently. 

Locking my eyes with his River gave me a warm smile as he caressed my waist.

" At this point, there is no hope for me now "

Tilting my head in confusion I eased into the bed lazily " What are you talking about?"

River let out a chuckle as he trailed kisses along my arm. " You told me not to fall in love with you, but every moment I spend with you I just keep falling more and more."

"Well, officer seems I'm guilty of the same crime. "

-------------------------------------------------------

Was requested a nsfw piece for River so here it is. 

[prompt-master]

Bear Trap (Part 2/3)

Art done by @doodles-by-noodles

Kyoko was hunched over Makoto, her eyes were darting from place to place over his body. Taking in every gash and tear before acting. Time was critical. She needed to know exactly how to treat him, or Makoto could die right there in front of her. Judging by the sound of his breathing, stressed and heavy, she could tell he’d already lost a lot of blood. Well, not that you needed her expertise to determine that. You could just look at the splattered pink around them. 

“It doesn’t look good,” She had said to Byakuya. It doesn’t look good. Seriously?

“No shit it doesn’t look good,” he spat out, sounding as intolerable as he did the first day they’d met in the killing game “I do have eyes, you know.“ 

Her right eye twitched. The logical side of her said this was just how Byakuya handled stress, by disconnecting himself and becoming irritable instead. The emotional side of her wanted him to shut the hell up. She opted to spare him little more than a glare before placing a hand on Makoto’s neck to check his pulse. It was beating rather hard and fast. It was strange really. She felt as though he was already dead. But that didn’t make any sort of logical sense. He was warm, he was still bleeding, he was shaking, and panting. All of this was right in her hands to be directly experienced. But he still felt like he was dead, putting her fingers to his limp neck. 

She had a morbid thought just then. About how her talents were used to help after a death, never really before one.

"You need bandages,” Byakuya said, ever so helpfully, “how else will you stop the bleeding? Or did the panic render you useless?" 

Kyoko took a deep breath. 

Makoto wouldn’t fight right now, not during an emergency, and neither would she. It’s just how he copes. It’s just how he copes…

"Tear up your jacket then.” She stated, “I’m not certain mine will be enough." 

She had to spark herself into action. She couldn’t let herself fall to something as simple as shock. She had been given mortician training as a part of the Kirigiri Family teachings so that she would have complete expertise on how different injuries came to be. She could glance at the wound on his back and see that it was given to him by the claws of a Mono Unit at a rather awkward angle. As she tied torn pieces of her blazer around his wounds so that they’d hold pressure - she only had two hands after all - she was able to get the entire story of all the brutal suffering Makoto just went through. 

She had seen bodies fresh from the morgue slapped down onto a table in front of her. She had witnessed the aftermath of horrors such as slit throats and dismemberment. She had once solved a case in which she found the victim’s severed head hidden underneath the floorboards in a safe. But Makoto’s disfigured leg, mangled to the point where she wondered how it was hanging on, bone sticking out after tearing through the skin, sharp from where metal teeth caused a clean break: THIS out of everything that she had witnessed in her life was what made her want to throw up. 

His arm was also rather damaged. It was hard to make out under torn fabric and blood, but it seemed more salvageable than his leg…she just needed…

"Togami. Your jacket.” Her tone was unforgiving. 

“I’m working on it.” Byakuya retorted back, a hint of offence in his voice.

It’s just how he copes. She felt like her patience for Byakuya was a rubber band in her hands, slowly getting pulled in either direction.

“Work harder." 

"You should be concerned with yourself.”

Deep breaths. The band was taut, shaking from force.

“Is this the best of your abilities?" 

The band snapped. 

"At least I’m actually doing something to help him!" 

Byakuya paused midway through tearing his blazer. Byakuya thought of himself as a capable man, but all his capable talents extended only towards self preservation. The one time he wished he had the skills to help someone else he could only stand and watch. There was nothing that Byakuya hated more  than being helpless. Kyoko’s words reminded him of the time Aoi slapped him back in the killing game. One of the many wake up calls Byakuya had received over the past few years. 

He could remember as clear as day, the wake up call that Kyoko herself had given him back when they hated each other. His fury at being incorrect over Sakura’s death, at not understanding the case, had all been snuffed out when Kyoko told him he simply lacked any emotional capacity to understand. Kirigiri Kyoko of all people. 

Hearing her remind him of his uselessness now with such a harsh tone. Well, it felt like she hated him all over again. 

He was still angry. Angry that he cared, angry that he wasn’t prepared, angry that he was faltering.

"What do you expect me to do?” He demanded. He spat out the words, but his heart was desperate to be given a task. 

“Make sure our emergency call earlier went through. Update the Foundation on the situation.” Right, that all made sense. How had he not seen that before? It almost made the emergency feel like a quick business move. He could handle that. Kyoko looked up from tending a wound on Makoto’s stomach, the worry in her eyes made him feel sick. “…and when you’re done, try to keep him awake." 

"Keep him-? He’s awake?” The boy had been so still and silent since they’d discovered his mangled body Byakuya hadn’t even considered that possibility. Upon further inspection Byakuya realized Makoto was never still or quiet. The distance he’d kept away from the scene prevented him from hearing the panting or noticing the trembling racking his body. 

A simple “yes” was all he’d gotten in response. He didn’t push or question any further though, it was clear Kyoko had a lot to focus on right now. Makoto’s life was in her hands, and neither wanted him to die like this. Kyoko could only estimate the ETA on help arriving, and she was fearing they would be too late. Memories flashed through her mind of running stitches through the skin of a banana peel during training. But she had nothing to work with, and certainly nothing sterile. Kyoko didn’t believe in God, but she prayed that an infection wouldn’t strike later. 

It was looking hopeless. 

“They said they’ll be here with a helicopter in half an hour." 

Right. She forgot Byakuya was even there. She tied another knot over a wound. Despite her heartbeat moving her entire body with its pounding, her hands remained steady. Just like when stitching banana skin shut. Another deep breath, her hands will stay steady. Any mistake could cause an issue. Mistakes could cause browning fruit to gush between the stitches. Nothing more than an insignificant rotting pile of ruined fruit splattered and smothered against the street like-

"Don’t just stand there, ” she took another deep breath, her hands will stay steady, “keep him awake." 

When Byakuya came over to take place near Makoto’s head she waited for him to pass her the tattered cloths she’d been waiting for. She ended up discovering he’d already thrown them to her side. She needed to focus more. She was by Makoto’s lower body, only half a mind paying attention to what Byakuya was doing. 

Makoto had never looked so disgustingly pale before, and he was the kind of person to lose all color when frightened. His mouth was slightly parted as his breathing continued to take a toll on him. A cold sweat had begun to break out on his clammy face, with a fever glowing across his skin from the blood loss and pain. What made Byakuya the most concerned though were his eyes, half lidded and staring at nothing in particular. His eyes fluttered, but his pupils were lazily taking in the world around him as if he was trying to understand what was going on but couldn’t take hold of anything tangible.

Byakuya held a hand up and froze. He was unsure what to do, all of this was out of his element. He wanted to push it all an arm’s length away. It was a simple task. Just keep him awake. But did he know what to do? In movies he’d seen people slap others awake. But Makoto was hurt, so shouldn’t he be gentle? Why was he even fussing over the method? There was no need to hesitate. He’d touched a corpse before, he could push through any nerves to handle this.

Byakuya put a hand to his face. After an unsure pause his thumb slowly caressed the skin of his cheek in an act of comfort that Makoto probably didn’t even register.

"Naegi, can you hear me?" 

There was a delay in his response, eyes heavily rolling side to side before settling on Byakuya. After the first small victory he prepared to speak, licking his lips and swallowing thickly. The delay felt like hours.

"T'gami…..kun?” Makoto’s lips felt heavy as he spoke.

There was an ache in Byakuya’s chest that he wasn’t used to, “The one and only." 

Makoto let out a breathy laugh. His face turned into this familiar dopey, trusting smile that he hated and loved all at the same time. His eyes seemed to lose track of Byakuya for a moment, he tried to match where they went. 

"Hey, eyes on me.” Makoto’s expression seemed to sink a little.

“W-….where's….” He sounded completely breathless and confused, “where’s Kiri…?”

“She’s right here.”

His head barely moved as he tried to see past Byakuya. Through his blurred vision he could make out that familiar lavender hue. Even with the trembling caused from blood loss he relaxed at the sight, letting out a breath when he processed. He closed his eyes, he didn’t see any reason to be scared anymore. 

“Hey, don’t you dare. Open your damn eyes.” Byakuya sounded angry with him, but he was too busy basking in relief.  

“You're….both ok?” His voice was barely above a whisper, if it wasn’t so quiet around them Byakuya would have to strain to hear it. 

“Of course we are.” It was that rare reassuring tone from Byakuya. Short lived before the anger came back, “I believe I gave you an order did I not? Open your eyes." 

To stress his point, Byakuya patted the side of Makoto’s face repeatedly and rather annoyingly. Both of them felt like they should be worried at how hard it was for him to simply open his eyes. It was like prying something off of hardened glue. Byakuya grit his teeth, he had a dreadful feeling that if Makoto closed his eyes again they wouldn’t be opening any time soon. 

"ETA?” Kyoko asked bluntly.

Byakuya didn’t take his eyes off of Makoto, “five minutes haven’t even passed yet.” So, they’re both impatient then. Makoto seemed to grin a small bit hearing Kyoko’s voice. 

He’s conscious, Byakuya reminded himself, which means that he can keep him awake by talking. But what the hell could he say? His mind felt blank, desperately pulling at drawers to find a single conversation topic locked away in his mind. But Makoto’s eyes were still on him. Perhaps the contact was grounding enough? But for how long? Makoto’s breathing felt heavier than before. 

“Why is he breathing so hard?” He opted to talk to Kyoko instead. 

“He’s lost a lot of blood." 

"He’s warm.”

“He’s lost a lot of blood." 

"Shouldn’t that make him cold?" 

"I’d rather it not get that bad. I’m sure his hands are cold if you check.”

She was right, his hands were icy cold. Makoto’s hands always felt a little chilly compared to his. Byakuya always ran hot like a furnace while Makoto was always chilly enough to wear multiple layers (I mean, a hoodie under a blazer? Really Makoto?). But this sensation felt like there was no blood in his hands. Wasn’t that a symptom of shock? His body was prioritizing vital functions just to keep him alive. Byakuya wished he could roll Makoto onto his back and elevate his legs like he’d been taught. But he’d seen the gashes on his back. It was the only injury he really took in. 

“You idiot” the words came through grit teeth, “getting yourself into a mess like this for us to clean up. Typical." 

Guilt could be read on Makoto’s face for a moment. “…yeah.” Byakuya once again felt a pang in his chest. Was that really all Makoto had to say? 

Kyoko managed to do something while working that made Makoto wince. Byakuya didn’t think for once, he just continued to rub slow circles across Makoto’s face.

"Hang in there.” Makoto’s face hadn’t relaxed much, still strained with all the pain he was feeling, “I do not permit you to die like this. Understood?" 

Makoto groaned in response, leaning into the hand that was cupping his face. Once again his eyes lost track, doing a big loop around before snagging back onto Byakuya. 

"Hurts…” he said, breath hitching as more pain shot through his body. 

“You can handle this much. You’ll be fine.”

Earlier Makoto felt relaxed when Kyoko and Byakuya had arrived. Their very presence gave Makoto a hope that he’d survive this. But Byakuya’s expression had gone from angry to worried. His eyebrows were furrowed, creasing lines across his forehead. If even Byakuya was openly worried…how bad was it? 

Makoto felt another harsh shiver run through his body. His face felt hot but everything else was like sharp winter air kept blowing over his skin. As the shiver travelled up his spine it caused pain to flare again. He was met with a harsh reminder to open his eyes from Byakuya. His breathing felt even heavier than before, each breath taking more effort than the last. Byakuya’s face was shifting again, but Makoto could hardly make it out through the greying swirls of dots across his vision. Ah, Byakuya looked scared. So Makoto was going to die then? The only sound he could hear was his own rabbit quick heartbeat threatening to break free from his tattered ribcage. Byakuya’s mouth was moving, but none of it made sense to Makoto. He couldn’t even read his lips. One second it was quick, then slow, like time itself was blending together into something incomprehensible. 

Makoto blinked slowly. 

“Naegi?” Byakuya had gone from tapping his face to shaking his shoulder.  He didn’t get much else besides a distracted groan from Makoto. “Naegi, can you hear me?”

“Don’t shake him like that!” Kirigiri scolded, frustrated as she tried her best not to let the movement interfere with her work. 

Byakuya felt like a life was slipping through his finger tips. His own breathing felt tight in his chest from the pure anxiety that Makoto’s unresponsiveness gave him. 

“Naegi if you don’t answer me right now…” his nails dug into the boy’s shoulders.

Makoto’s eyes rolled up, dropped down, fell to the left, all as if there was a weight to it. Another slow blink. More odd drifting. Not a single response from him. 

“Makoto, say something…” Byakuya ordered, pausing to watch the boy’s face; his voice was quieter than he wanted to admit. “Makoto!" 

Makoto sharply inhaled at the sound. Byakuya sounded scared. Byakuya was never scared. "Nn….” Makoto frowned a little bit in worry. He felt like he was drowning, being pushed beneath thick murky water and whenever he got close enough to the surface to even understand a little bit of what was going on he was shoved back down again. He could see Byakuya look towards Kyoko for a moment and watched his expression fall. 

Focus…focus. If he could just make out the words they were saying. His vision left him for a moment, greying out as his body felt weirdly numb and tingly. It wasn’t a bad feeling. If Makoto were to die here and now…he’d be happy to die next to the people he loved with this strange not-bad feeling. It was much better than bleeding out alone and in pain surrounded by the mascot that caused all this suffering in the first place. He could just drift away, and be able to die peacefully, a luxury most people didn’t get any more. If he could see his own face he was sure a weak smile played on it. 

“What do you mean?!” Byakuya snapped, he glared at her out of habit.

“I mean… just look…” Kyoko’s busy hands paused momentarily to grab more fabric from the dwindling pile. Byakuya looked away from Makoto’s face and his breath caught in his throat. The limb Kyoko was working on barely resembled a leg anymore. She had done a decent job at cleaning up the wounds but it only made it more apparent how… disfigured it was. Nothing about it seemed right.

“He can’t-” the words welled up in Byakuya’s throat. He couldn’t speak the words into existence. If he did, then it would become an undeniable reality. 

But Kyoko didn’t have that same hesitation, “There’s no way his leg can recover from this, and that’s without factoring in the high risk of infection.”

Byakuya’s eyes were glued to the horrific sight. Despite the sight of death becoming background noise to them all, it put a pit in his stomach. He felt disgusting. Like any second now his lunch would come back up. Look closer…it was a miracle the leg was even hanging on at all. Kyoko was right. He would lose his leg. 

Makoto, just barely through the swirls of gray blurs and black spots, could see the desperation and worry on Byakuya and Kyoko’s faces. It was only a small thought  in the back of his mind at first. Just a little whisper. But eventually it became bright and loud. A scream next to his ears. A new hope. 

He didn’t want to die. Not like this. 

He couldn’t leave Byakuya and Kyoko heartbroken. They’d drown in the despair.  Letting their trusted friend, their partner in survival, die after doing everything they could to try and save him? It would be heartbreaking. But Makoto couldn’t even make out the color of sky anymore. He couldn’t move his fingers. He didn’t know if it was possible for him to get out of this one alive, but he wouldn’t spend his last moments watching people he loves suffer. 

“ ‘s… ok…y …gami” Makoto’s tongue felt like lead and moved sluggishly in his mouth. Byakuya wished he could take any form of comfort from the broken sentence. 

The fever from Makoto’s face had gone cold, leaving him with all his blood washed pale skin on full display. Byakuya had to pause to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“Don’t talk like that, you moron. I know what you’re trying to do.” and he did. Byakuya knew that Makoto was trying to make himself and Kyoko more at ease. Even while walking on a tightrope between life and death the bot still wanted to make sure his friends were okay. Byakuya felt rigid in a mixture of irritation and worry.

“It… d’sn’t hur.. nymore…’s okay." 

The words made cold fear run down Byakuya’s spine. He clenched his fists, glaring down at Makoto like he’d insulted him. But his voice was weak, "I told you to stop…" 

"Really…I pr…mise…’s not going to be bad…" 

Byakuya grinded down on his teeth with enough force to hurt his jaw. He exhaled harshly, ignoring Makoto’s words and turning to Kyoko, "Will you hurry up and save him already?!" 

"I’m doing my best! There’s not much I can do!" 

”’re both… really strong… you c’n overcome …‘nything…” Makoto felt a lump in his throat, he wanted to make it seem like everything was gonna be fine, but he knew that no matter what he said… Byakuya and Kyoko were smart. They were smart enough to know he was lying through his teeth. Maybe it was more for him than for them at this point.

“Dammit Makoto if you don’t stop fucking talking that-!“ 

"Tha…’s why I know….you’ll be okay…” He struggled to speak, tongue heavy as lead, and still he tried to make the words clear as possible. He was afraid, he didn’t want to go, not now. There were so many things left that he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do. He wanted to tell the two people in front of him how much he cared about them but all he could do was watch as their distress increased. His vision started to fade and he wanted to scream for it to come back. He struggled to breath.

“Makoto!" 

Byakuya took Makoto’s face in his hands again. The light in Makoto’s eyes were completely gone, unable to properly process the world around him. Despite Byakuya’s pleas steadily becoming more and more desperate for Makoto to stay awake, he slipped through his fingers like sand. With his eyes drifting to the right, Makoto fell away from the world. 

And both of them felt it with their own hands. They felt the exact moment Makoto lost consciousness for what could very well be the last time. They both stood there frozen in shock. Byakuya still had his hands on Makoto’s face, just watching as if any second he’d open up his eyes again and apologize for scaring them. Kyoko had her hands up, mid-wrapping wounds. She just stared blankly, unable to grapple with the idea that all her work may have been for nothing. 

They sat in silence. No one moved.

It felt like gravity had increased, time had slowed down to a crawl and even the gentle whistling of the wind felt subdued and gentle, as if even it didn’t want to disturb them. Neither wanted to be the first to move. If they were to move, what were they even supposed to do? Both of their minds seemed to cloud. Was it even worth it to move? Was there even a point? There was too much to process, too many unanswered questions. Too many calls to feelings that would be left unanswered. And yet the world kept spinning sluggishly as if nothing had happened at all. 

"Check…” Kyoko felt some clarity dig into her skull, sharp like a breath of cold air, “check his pulse." 

"Huh?" 

"Check his pulse…! Now!" 

They both jumped into action. Kyoko grabbed Makoto’s wrist, pressing two fingers into the pulseline with enough force to bruise. It was manic and ineffective. She didn’t even think about how she had her gloves on, she just needed to know now. Byakuya was pressing his fingers into Makoto’s cold neck again and again. He kept missing the pulse point and getting impatient when he felt nothing.

When they found it, they both sunk back with relief. They could have passed out from the rush of realization. It was weak, and way way too fast, but it was something dammit. He wasn’t gone yet. With a shaky yet confident breath, Kyoko got back to work, hands trembling ever so slightly. Enough for Byakuya to notice, but not enough to comment on. 

Byakuya slowly let go of Makoto’s neck. He dragged himself back to give Kyoko space. The pick up would be here soon. In an effort to keep contact with Makoto and stay out of Kyoko’s way, Byakuya positioned himself so that he could rest the boy’s head in his lap. He wouldn’t be caught dead in this position on any other day but in the moment that didn’t matter. He occasionally glanced up at Kyoko to watch her work, but stayed focused on Makoto. If Makoto woke up he was going to be right there and this time he wouldn’t let him slip away again. 

The pick up was almost there.