#it's striking midnight by the time i finish typing so i'm just /hoping/ this is coherent with as much body text as i put into this

[humunanunga]

Say it came through science. Simple rituals to levitate objects. The first result was the most surprising. You tried to explain it using quantum mechanics and still couldn't place an explanation.

What would you call it, as gravity vanished?

I... think this is supposed to be some kinda gotcha, under the impression that I said not to believe in magic? But I have more than one answer to this, some in direct response to this and some not. So let me just go down the list and maybe I'll figure out how to abbreviate myself along the way.

I'll start by saying that what is science to us in the 21st century would very much be sorcery back in the Bronze Age. And that's before even touching upon alchemy, which played a major role in the development of the scientific method. In this way, the difference between science and real-world "magic" is the framing. Programming could be described as spellbinding. 3d-printing could be described as conjuration. Pharmaceuticals could be described as potions.

So realistically, if it were discovered in the Digital Age that a ritual could induce levitation, and parlor tricks were ruled out, it would most likely be called a new physics discovery until further studies were made. Is it telekinesis, or is something actually canceling out the force of gravity upon this object? Is this object also experiencing the negation of air pressure, and how is it not affecting anything else? (There's a lot of gases in the sky pressing down upon the ground, as even gases are matter and therefore mass, which becomes weight under the effect of gravity, which is how we get less air pressure at higher altitudes.)

If this phenomenon could be reproduced simply by a ritual, every capitalist corporation would want their employees to do it too and before OSHA regulations catch up with the discovery, so they'd call it a job position.

If this phenomenon could be reproduced by equipment, then buddy, it's gonna be called whatever the leading brand named their device, just like "bandaid" or "dumpster."

People didn't always understand why some rocks seemed to curse their bearers either, but then we developed equipment and studies that could perceive radioactivity. So even if this scenario really did happen, all it would mean is that we either haven't figured out which known force is acting upon the object or the device necessary to perceive the acting force hasn't been invented yet. And I mean, hey, we're still at least a few years short of mind-readers or Ghost in the Shell brand telepathy.

Now, here looks like a good place to interject with what @claire-starsword and @no-foxgiven said so well in the notes:

#to believe in the supernatural is to be open minded about the things we don't and possibly can't explain #not to throw away the explanations we do have

#this is why i love Clarke's Third Law (and its reversal) #''Any sufficiently advanced science is indistinguishable from magic'' #Like yeah computers are magic #electricity? if you don't know enough it certainly is #but also the reverse #''Any sufficiently understood magic is indistinguishable from science'' #the mitochondria may be the powerhouse of the cell but also we just magically process magic #diseases transmit through curses (pathogens) #Life is magical and science is magic!

Even if we have no understanding of engineering, frankly, the reason we don't usually think of computers as magic is because they're mundane. Basically, most real-world magic like physics or sentience or morality isn't called magic because we reserve that word for mythologized interpretations.

There was one more point I was gonna tack on at the end, what was it... ah, right.

My post didn't say not to believe in magic. I was saying to be careful. Not to tell anyone to touch grass, but having a sense of wonder is important. Indulging in a little whimsy is fulfilling, but believing something that doesn't hold up against fact-checking just because you want to live out a fantasy where you're the heroic rebellion against demon overlords is how you get an angry mob bringing a noose to the White House.

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Leather Bar Swap

Today's my 21st birthday and you know what that means! I'm finally able to take my first sip of alcohol…well legally anyway! But I didn't want to go to just any gay bar, I wanted to go to a leather bar in the city! I'm a leather fetishist for sure, even though I don't own any real gear. The only leather item I own is a jacket I got at a thrift shop awhile back. I want to buy better gear, but it's not the best idea since I'm still closeted to my judgmental family in the small town I live in. I do have a car and license though, so I'm happy to be able to escape all that when I need to.

I drove to the nearest city to find the leather bar, a super tall building that you could see from the distance. I've always wondered why it was so tall; it had to be at least 5 stories! If it's just a bar, it shouldn't have more than two floors though right? I was about to solve the mystery because, proudly wearing my leather jacket, I walked up to the bouncer at the door.

"Hey kid, can I see some ID please?" I was a little intimidated, but knowing that I am in fact old enough, I was reassured. I proudly presented the ID to the bouncer. He gave one long look at it, then beamed at me.

"Hey, happy birthday kid! Hope your first legal's good."

"Thanks!" He opened the door for me.

"Enjoy Swap Night too! It's really fun."

"Oh…yeah I will!" I had no idea what Swap Night was, but it must be some kind of event.

Walking in was amazing. Everywhere I looked, there were hot leather guys in all shapes and sizes, with the fresh scent of leather in the air. I felt a little awkward though. Not only am I the youngest one there, but lots of guys were wearing kinky fetish gear too. When it wasn't a BLUF type uniform, it was harnesses and jockstraps. I really wish I owned their gear!

Walking through the crowd of sweaty leather men, I arrived at the bar. I sat on the stool and the bartender came over.

"What'll it be kid?

"Hmm." I'm not really sure actually. Thankfully he seemed to have read my mind.

"I get you, it's your first time right? Simple margarita it is."

"Sure." As he poured, he made eye contact with me.

"So, you excited for Swap Night? Should be starting pretty soon."

"Er, what exactly is it anyway? I didn't know about this."

"It's a whole lotta fun. Everyone in the bar swaps bodies with a partner."

"Really? Body swapping? That's so cool! Do you get to choose who?"

"Unfortunately not, it's random. But you do get to choose who to fuck!"

"Wait you can fuck?"

"Yep! It's an amazing experience."

"That sounds so cool! How do I sign up?"

"Over there." He pointed at the nearby table that had a stack of papers on it, along with a box. "Just sign there and put it in the box."

"Alright!” I finished my margarita, paid, and quickly headed over to the table. I filled out my information, signed the paper, and placed it in the box. A few minutes later a really hot guy walked onto the stage and took a microphone. He was wearing a leather jacket over a harness, along with a pair of chaps over his leather briefs. I swear he looked directly at me. I really hope I'm able to swap with him - or at least someone as hot as him!

"Hey all you leather men! It's time for Swap Night!" The crowd cheered. "Now if you just walk through that door, you'll find a bulletin board with a room number listed next to your name. In these rooms, you'll find the body swapping helmets. Put 'em on, wait until everyone's ready, and boom! New body! Now if you wanna fuck, there are plenty of playrooms to have some fun in, as well. You'll be body swapped until midnight, so when the clock strikes twelve, you'll automatically be put back in your original bodies. Any questions?"

Nobody had questions so we headed over through the door. We all crowded around trying to look for our names and I found mine - Room 503. The map on the wall nearby indicated that 503 was on the 5th floor so I walked in the elevator, standing behind a few other guys. The smell of leather and sweat filled the air and I could feel myself getting hard.

I reached the floor, found my room, and walked in. It was about the size of a typical hotel room but without furniture. There was a large window in the back. Looking through, I could see a good portion of the city. I turned to my left and saw the helmet sitting on a small side table, so I grabbed it, pushed the only button on it, and placed it on my head. Nothing happened at first but after about a minute, it started lighting up, and making buzzing noises. A blinding flash of light hit me in the face and when I opened my eyes, I was in another room.

I looked down to see my new body, excited to be swapped with a hot guy, but was met with a surprise. I was wearing a leather shirt with light blue stripes down the side, but it was bulging out in a ball shape. The blue tie I was wearing highlighted the curve even more, by arching over a shiny black balloon. I have a fucking ball gut! I poked it with my newly gloved hands, to prove it was real and…it was real all right! I grabbed it with both hands and shook it up and down, feeling vibrations throughout my body.

I'm fat! I've never been fat before, not even a little bit! At least I'm wearing leather gear. I took one hand and put it up to my nose to smell the glove. It was fucking amazing…the leather scent made me go stiff immediately. I couldn’t even see my own dick past the gut, but I sure could feel it! As I held the glove closer, I noticed my face felt a little fuzzy. I brushed under my nose and felt some facial hair. Oh god, I have a mustache! I looked around to find a mirror and saw one on the wall.

I looked at my reflection and was shocked at the sight. I'm not only fat, I'm old! I inspected my face closely, touching the mustache that spread across my face in an arch shape. This is weird but incredible! I’ve never been able to grow more than peach fuzz before and now I have a whole damn mustache! I had wrinkles under my eyes, on my forehead, and under my chin…actually no. That's a double chin! Even though I was grossed out, I started playing with it, pinching both my chins and neck. It was surreal.

I can't believe out of all the hot leather men I saw, I had to end up in the body of some fat old guy! Is this really supposed to be random? I couldn't have had worse luck! I've always wanted to own new gear but not like this! I turned to the side, staring at my new belly and holding it, jiggling it slightly as I grimaced at how far it stuck out. The leather shirt hugged it tightly in a way that no matter how much I tried to suck it in, it was still obvious. I took a moment to check out my entire leathered up body. In the mirror I could finally see the leather pants and boots I was wearing, along with a muir cap on top of my head.

So is this what it feels like wearing full gear? It really hugs my body…though maybe that's because I'm so big. I started to feel stiff, but this time, I think I was turned on by my body instead of the leather. That's funny though. I'm usually into younger to mid age fit guys, not silver daddies and bears, even if they're in leather. There's no ignoring the horny urges, though. I may not be able to see my dick but I can feel it! Maybe the body swapping causes an increase in sex drive? Well, whatever it is, I can't wait to try out this senior bod on some other guy…

[stetervault]

Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!

Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

Wake Me Up by ToAStranger

Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.

Tremors by Corpium

(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

Bite Down by EclipseWing

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

as you are by veterization

Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.

Call My Name by KouriArashi

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi

Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.

Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede

The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.

The Will by Guede

We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.

On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede

“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”

“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”

Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).

Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)

Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.

OR

The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.

Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday

In the beginning, there are three absolutes.

One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.

Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.

Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.

Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.

Three absolutes.

You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn

Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.

Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills. And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.

Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Open Wounds by Guede

Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.

Bittersweet Creek by Guede

When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

For Great Justice! by Green

Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.

"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."

Bone Deep by ShippersList

A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.

Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.

Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi

Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.

Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)

Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.

Til Death by Bunnywest

“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks. “Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is. “He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her. The camps……aren’t camps. Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

love me lights out by veterization

Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)

Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)

“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16. “Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,” ‘Bambi’. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous. Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.

-

Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.

Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363

Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.

Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.

Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."

Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“What. Is that.”

Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.

“Her name’s Lily.”

Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.

“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”

“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”

“Who the fuck is Becca?!”

Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest

The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.

The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”

You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

A Curious Magic by Triangulum

Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.

So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.

Light in the Dark by cywscross

It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he’s never known anything else.

~~

Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.

Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross

Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.

--

Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.

He doesn't expect to have company.

[literate-simp]

Bakugou realizing that sometimes, bad things happen to good people

About: his s/o opens up to him about their trauma

Warning(s): mentions of trauma, slight angst, few curse words because Bakugou

Include(s): gn! reader, being comforted and understood by pomeranian, fluff

Note: i never get too detailed with trauma/bad childhood related content because i want my readers to feel free with whatever they're facing. i hope that anyone reading this fic for comfort has a wonderful day. I'm happy you're still pushing despite everything that's happened.

To be fair, he hadn't even thought of it. Never crossed his mind, not even once.

It was 1 AM now; way past his bedtime, way past his much needed rest for an early morning and he hadn't even tried closing his eyes. For once in his life, he was left wondering.

His life was filled with praise and ego, to be his lover would mean being able to put up with him and giving him praise when he actually deserved it. He didn't need half-assed compliments or someone on his hands and feet -- he needed someone to see him grow by himself.

You see, it hadn't crossed his mind that you were in a dark place in the past or present. You were strong in your own way and he saw it as a powerful trait of yours. You wanted to be a hero just like him but not because you wanted to prove your worth, you just wanted to save those who couldn't protect themselves.

"Katsuki! Right hook, then left!" You'd yell during your spar sessions. He takes your advice seriously, knowing you wanted him to improve just as much as he does for you.

"Fuckin' idiot," He mumbled in the darkness. You seemed so fine with it too, laughed about whatever happened as if it wasnt a huge part of who you were now. You talked like it was the weather, mundane and nothing crucial.

Could people smile after that? You did. It was scary to him how used to the life you were. You must've been scared, who wouldn't be?

"Katsuki, I have something to tell you," You said right before his bedtime, around 7 maybe. He was confused why you didn't just walk up and strike a conversation with him like usual.

Must be serious, he had thought and damn was it serious.

On the balcony, under the dark sky with a faraway look in your eyes. You didn't even turn to him once, just went on and on; one story after another. Sometimes you'd laugh like it was funny.

It wasn't funny, he was mortified and worried -- rendered him speechless to a point that his body came to a standstill.

You're a good person, he knew that most. You were someone that shone brighter than his classmates, that was why he chose you to be his partner at first.

"You must be freaked out, huh," You stated, finally turning to meet his worried eyes with a smile. "I don't blame you, it's a lot to take in."

"I trust you a lot and I just wanted you to know what you're getting yourself into when you're with me, so take your time. I'll wait for you."

Is he feeling bad right now? What was he feeling bad for? That you had a horrible life? He hated pitying people but he couldn't help but worry for you.

Also, what did you mean by 'take your time'? Had you thought Bakugou Katsuki, Lord Explosion Murder and soon-to-be Dynamight, was going to run away the second you told him?

If anything he just wanted to hug you right now, but he missed his chance when it reached midnight. Now he's going to accept the consequences of shock by not getting a good night's rest like he intended.

This bothered him.

How were you sleeping right now?

Just as the thought crossed his mind, he was out the door. Midnight, shoeless feet, his plain black shirt and sweats, he walked down the corridor to your door and was tempted to knock.

What if he was bothering your rest? He didn't want that, not after the conversation you both had. He turned on his heel and was met face-to-face with his teacher's pet cat who wandered the dorms at night to check on students, it stared straight at his soul and kinda creeped him out.

He put a finger to his lips, trying to shush it from making any possible noise but it harnessed the loudest cat-like screech he's heard. Bakugou jumped when he heard your door creak open, turning as quick as he could to see you.

"Katsuki? What are you doing here at night? 's like...," You trailed off, looking back into your room for your clock. "1:37 AM. It's way past your bedtime."

"U-Uh yeah, sorry. Just wanted to check on you," He mumbled the last bit, shooing you with his hand. "Go back to sleep, I'll talk to ya in the morning."

It was silent for a moment and you sighed, reaching out to grab his retreating hand and pulling him into your room.

"What? Hey! This isn't allowed!" He scolded you, tapping your hand on his. He was grateful it was dark enough to hide the growing warmth on his cheeks.

"Not like it matters, it's almost 2 AM. Don't want you to go to class tired," You mumbled with a yawn. You pulled him to your bed, gesturing him to rest on top of your shoulder as you laid there waiting.

He hesitantly sits down and curls to your side, your hand playing with his soft yet spiky hair. Bakugou relaxes and focuses on your deep breaths.

"What's wrong?" You asked, eyes closed. "Rare t'see you staying up so late. Can't sleep?"

He shakes his head. "Just thinking about you."

"Awww, how sweet~," You whispered with a giggle. "What were you thinking about?"

Bakugou stares at you before grunting.

"Drop the act. I saw your puffy eyes the second you came out of your room," He snarls, sitting up and looking down at you. "Don't do that in front of me."

You frowned for a moment and smiled again, hand reaching up and caressing his cheek. It was always so soft and clear, probably from the quirk he inherited from his mother.

"Can't help it. Got used to it, hun," You told him. "Not like I could sleep either, cried 'til I could. Kinda worked until I heard Mr Aizawa's cat screeching."

Bakugou cringed with his eyes closed. "Sorry."

"No problem, I like his cat," You answered. It was silent again. "Do you think I'm pitiful?"

"No," He answered. "If you're looking for pity, you're dating the wrong guy."

Chuckling, you nodded. "Must be dating the right one then."

You sat up just slightly, kissing his chin. It was the most you could do in the position, and he didn't seem like the type to budge. He grabs your cheek and kisses your forehead.

"Whatever happened, happened. Just because you told me, doesn't mean my impression of you changed. You just...," He trailed off. "... Showed me how you need to be treated, the best of the best."

"You're a better fit for a hero than any extra. Trust me," He stated firmly. Tears welled up in your eyes and you smiled wobbily.

"Damn it, you Katsudon! I just finished crying too," You muttered, rubbing your eyes as you let the tears cascade down your cheeks. He smiles at your reaction, leaning in to kiss you on the lips gently and choosing not to point out the ridiculous pet name you gave him.

"From now on, tell me everything. What makes you uncomfortable, happy, and how I can make you feel better," He ruffles your hair. "I love you, idiot. You're stuck with me."

More tears fell from your eyes. He waited for your smile to come and his heart grew warm again.

"Thank you, Suki. I love you too." You laughed.

♡︎ literate-simp

[a-crimson-dawn]

"Now just to add some ginger-"

"Honestly, Vengeance, give it here." Mereoleona grabbed the bowl from him. "At this rate, the mixture will be done by midnight."

As she mixed the dough with speed, William couldn't help but wonder if Mereoleona was necessarily suited to cooking or baking. Being royalty, she never would have had to cook or bake, and well... she just didn't strike him as the type of person that would.

Yet, here she was volunteering - in her own, aggressive manner - to assist with making the gingerbread house that was intended to be used as both a sweet and a Christmas decoration. Now that he had decided to celebrate this year's Festiver after all, he figured he might as well go all out... but there was a lot to do in that case, and everyone was as busy as usual. Not to mention that there weren't that many culinary experts - he wasn't one either - in the Golden Dawn. In fact... they had a total of zero unless you counted having a big appetite as "culinary expertise" in which case they had exactly one: Hammon. He was rather glad for all the cookbooks that he happened upon in the kitchen, otherwise, he'd be lost. At the same time, it made him even more concerned, given that Mereoleona seemed to be doing her best to veer as far off the written down ingredients and methods as possible.

Nonetheless, he was glad for her company... even if it could be quite distracting.

"Some things can't be rushed," William argued, though she ignored him. When she finally stopped mixing, the captain was relieved that the dough seemed to turn out well. "Alright, now just cool the dough for an hour-"

"Why would we need to cool the dough?" Mereoleona asked impatiently. "Should we just cut it up into shapes and then bake those shapes... it would be faster."

"Apparently, it's supposed to make the dough more firm...?"

"It's fine as it is," Mereoleona insisted. "I'm sure once it's baked..."

He wasn't so sure, and so he took the bowl from her, placed the dough, rolled it out until it was thin enough, and then chilled the dough, even as the lioness watched with obvious irritation. "I don't suppose you bake often?" he commented, as he left the dough for a bit.

"Do I look like a baker to you?"

He chuckled. "No. But I didn't want to presume."

"Alright, so what do we do now?"

"Wait."

"Can't we just get someone to quickly freeze all of it so that it would firm up faster."

"I'm not so sure that will work the way we want it..."

"You're useless."

He just shook his head at her annoyance. "Or you could help me wash the dish-"

"We wait," she changed her mind.

William laughed. It was to be expected that royalty wouldn't want to spend their time doing housework. Even so, he decided to soak the ones not currently in use in water, just to make life easier later.

---

An hour had passed with Mereoleona having gone to train just a little ways away from the base, and William doing some paperwork within that timeframe in hopes of reducing the piles.

They'd returned to the kitchen with Mereoleona impatient to finally get the gingerbread to bake. And once it had started baking, the waiting game had returned.

"Can't we just use my fire magic to bake it faster?" she exclaimed. "Honestly, I'm sure I can do this far more efficiently than some dumb oven." He wasn't so sure.

"We really shouldn't mess with the baking process-"

"Come on, what's the harm in it?" she exclaimed, before taking the gingerbread tray from the oven, despite his protests.

"Mereoleona, I really think we should just wa-"

Before he could finish that though, the whole tray was set on fire as Mereoleona held it, looking pleased with herself. And that grin stayed there, until she stopped the fire and realised that the pieces of gingerbread were coal black.

"...maybe we shouldn't mess with the baking process..." she muttered under her breath, looking down at the ground instead, oddly sheepish.

He found it somewhat adorable, not that he was about to risk death by admitting this to her. "It's fine," he reassured her, "I guess we'll just have to start over again." Sure, it meant spending more time and resources, but he had a feeling he would end up baking gingerbread more than once over this holiday, thanks to certain somepeoples' (Hammon's) appetites, anyway. And he enjoyed spending time with Mereoleona.

---

They were back to the baking stage of the gingerbread making process, this time with Mereoleona having displayed considerably more self-restraint. It was honestly amusing to watch her try and stop herself from her usual behaviours and remarks

Fortunately, they didn't have to wait an hour, as it only took roughly twelve minutes for the gingerbread to bake. And in the meantime, they went onto mixing the icing. It wasn't anything too complicated - granted, they did almost drown the icing sugar once, before he fixed it by adding more sugar... though this meant they were now stuck with excess icing, but he doubted anyone would mind that.

The harder part would be icing the gingerbreads... that took a little bit of a bit of delicacy and -

"Ah- that's a bit too much, you're going to end up-"

Too late, much of the icing had already started dripping out the back of the piping bag. But hey, at least they had excess icing, so it really didn't matter if some of it ended up on the table or their clothes.

"You might want to - wait, let me..." he moved up beside her, taking the piping bag and showing her more or less how it was done. The first part didn't need to be very artfully done anyway, as long as the icing stuck the walls of the gingerbread house together, that would be good enough, but it would be best for her to know how to use a piping bag before she got onto the "artful" part of the process. Decorating the outside with the rest of the icing would hopefully cover up the flaws.

He handed her the piping bag after sticking two of the walls down, keeping the rest of the walls in place while she stuck down the rest of the house. And despite her frustration she managed to hold back her impatience enough for the house to come out looking quite... good, actually. Solid. Straight. Maybe the icing was a bit uneven but that could be fixed in the decorating stage.

He frowned as he tried to figure out how to go about decorating it. Technically, it might have been a better to decorate the walls before assembly, but at that point Mereoleona was still learning how to use a piping bag, and there were no instructions on actually decorating the house beyond how to make the icing. He supposed if they were delicate enough they would manage to do it without the house caving in on them...

Besides, the most important part of the process was over - as long as the gingerbread was edible, no one would probably make too much of a fuss about how it looked. So, he hesitantly let the lioness choose the pattern for the house and start decorating while he went off to look for sweets to add onto it.

Returning to find - relieved - that the walls hadn't collapsed, he added marshmallows - which were normally used for hot chocolate so they were generally stock up on those - and bits of chocolate, because you usually couldn't go wrong with chocolate.

And with the decorating done...

"There..." he allowed himself a moment's celebration before heading back to work.

"Maybe I could be a baker," Mereoleona exclaimed, proud of herself.

He laughed. He doubted that even if Mereoleona did decide to hone her skills in baking she'd ever actually want to be a baker, but it was an entertaining thought, imagining her in a baker's uniform. "I'm sure you could be anything you wanted to be if you put your mind to it..."

She punched his shoulder gently, which only made him laugh more. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing..." he shook his head. "We should probably clean up."

"Don't you have-"

"No, we don't have servants for that in the Golden Dawn," he explained. "That would put more people at risk than strictly necessary should the base be attacked, and it leaves less space for actual squad members."

Grudgingly, she walked over to the sink, while he followed, amused, only to find her splashing water at him on purpose.

Laughing, he returned the favour.

And granted, they wound up using more water on each other than on the dished by the way, but it had been fun, spending time like this. It was unfortunate that the time spent was almost over. She'd most likely want to get back to spending her time in the wilderness where she wouldn't require patience or restraint, and he had paperwork to do.

"Well, thank you for help, Lady Mereoleona-"

She chuckled. "Why so formal? I'd say considering we just spent time together doing something that isn't part of either of our jobs, i would say there is no need for any titles, no?"

"O-of course... I suppose you're right, Mereoleona." Not that it made any easier returning to work.

"We should do this again sometime." The suggestion made his heart and head feel lighter. And then she leaned in to whisper into his ear "sooner, rather than later," before pressing her lips lightly against the shell of his ear with a feather-light kiss.

[horanghaes-gaze]

Requested by: @bluekidohoonikonsmutopera

Group/member: Vixx's Hyuk (Han Sanghyuk), Got7's Jackson

Genre: Smut; warnings: daddy kink, fingering, cheating, no condom, fingering, mentions of marking, oral

Title: Man of the Hour

Word count: 3.2 k

Notes: This was a whole mess, I typed it out and it didn't save so I had to retype it and it was all just a rollercoaster. But, I finally finished it, I hope you enjoy, and I'm sorry this took so long to write~~💕💕 Also, tell me if y'all want a part 2 because that ending got me feeling 🥵🥵

As the chandeliers lit up the dim and warm room, you put the champagne glass to your lips, taking a sip. The announcer still calling the last few names of the guests arriving, the last guest being the most important. This gala was the biggest one held every year, topping the rest and putting them to shame. It pulled off all the stops, fancy invitations, suits and tuxedos, long dresses and ball gowns, masquerade masks, the full 100. The venue resembled that of a royal ballroom. The dining table stretching to what seems like a mile long, the large, cushioned chairs and shiny fine china plates added as a perfect touch. The whole event was stunning and looked forward to every year, each time topping the last. Everyone's attention was at the entrance, awaiting for what name the announcer would say, this name being the last.

"And the last and most coveted guest of the night this year," his voice was loud and clear.

"The man of the hour, Hyuk, Han Sanghyuk"

You placed your glass of champagne down and clapped along with the crowd. You watched as the man walked through the doors, expecting another old man to walk down the stairs with his wife, sugar baby, and/or gold digger. But the man that did walk down the stairs was quite the opposite. He was clearly well built, tall, and despite the mask, anyone could tell that he was handsome. His sleek black hair parted and swept back with a jaw that could cut diamond, the suit he wore only accentuating his broad shoulders, small waist, and long legs. You swore that God carved this man himself as his looks rivaled perfection. He smiled and waved towards the crowd, a group of women fighting over who caught his attention. You continued to watch as he walked, surprised when he waved and smiled one last time. Looking right at you. In your eyes. It didn't last long however, as your husband wrapped his arm around your waist.

The night started off with dancing, the orchestra setting the mood for every song. You and Jackson, your aforementioned husband, were dancing the second to last dance, both swaying in each other's arms. You were content in his hold, calm, until your husband suddenly stopped. You looked up to see why and saw where he was looking.

"Excuse me," the man standing in front of you spoke.

"I'm sorry" was all he said towards your husband before leaving. You looked up to face Jackson, who gave you a confused look back, he shrugged, leading you to your table as the song ended.

"Hm, wonder what that was about" you said.

"Maybe he thought I was someone else, we are wearing masks, and this is masquerade gala." Jackson replied. The last song started to play, Jackson leaving to talk to some associates and business partners. You sat there, looking around until you locked eyes with the man who interrupted your dance, the same eyes that had caught you by surprise earlier, at the staircase. You had to think for a second, Hyuk, that was his name. You got up, your legs bringing you to him before you even realized where you were heading. And right now, not knowing what you were going to say or do, you're standing right in front of him. He gave you a smile and took your hand, leading you to the dance floor. You followed him, it was like he cast a spell on you, you were completely mesmerized. He took you in his arms, leading the dance.

"Why'd you tell my husband that you were sorry?" you asked.

"Because I am sorry, for what I'm going to do to his wife tonight"

The last song ended, and he lead you back to the table. He sat himself down right next to you and Jackson. Jackson took your hand, smiling at you, looking into your eyes with nothing but love and adoration for you. Hyuk saw this and a small part of him almost felt bad... almost. The servers soon filled the room, pushing in carts with food that enveloped the air with the most delicious of aromas. Food was being served on the fine china plates and all the guests were now preoccupied, including Jackson. This gave Hyuk a chance to start his night with you. His hand slowly went towards your thigh, his thumb stroking over it back and forth. You let out a small gasp, only Hyuk noticing as he continued to tease you. Throughout dinner you were trying your best to seem as calm as possible, keeping your attention mostly on the food. And also throughout dinner, Hyuk's hand only kept going further up your thigh, towards the inner direction. Hyuk only got more cocky as this went on, even having the audacity to strike a conversation with your husband, knowing fully well what he was doing to you. Once dinner ended, guests continued to socialize and chatter about. The men talking business, and the women complaining about their husbands and eyeing the young and attractive men in the room. You were now sipping on a glass of red wine, making your way to the balcony. You leaned on the thick cement rail, setting down the wine glass. Taking a breath in, you let the cool night air fan over your skin, gazing up at the midnight sky.

"It's a beautiful night isn't it? Romantic, even." you heard from behind you. Turning around, there Hyuk was, looking at you with that smile again. He walked to stand next to you, holding a wine glass of his own.

"It really is." you answered him.

"If you don't want this, tell me now. Because if so, I'll leave you be and we never have to meet again." he said with utmost seriousness. You shook your head.

"No, I want this. And I know it'll ruin what I have with Jackson but, I want it. I want it so bad."

"Here's the key to my hotel room, my driver will take you. I'll tell your husband that you got sick and called a cab home." He handed you the room key. Room 339. You left the venue and got in the car, the smell of roses filling your senses as you stepped in. You soon arrived at the hotel, thanking the driver as you got out of the car. Making your way inside the building, you looked around, the hotel's luxurious interior making you feel out of place. You went up to the receptionist and asked which floor room 339 was on.

"Room 339, let's see... It's on the very top floor, ma'am." she replied. Nodding, you bid her thank you, walking to the elevator. Pressing the button, you waited as the elevator made its way up, dinging when it arrived on the top floor. Taking out the key, you unlock the door and enter the dark room. Walking further in, you went to stand in front of the window, looking at the midnight sky once again.

"It's a beautiful night isn't it?" you knew it was him.

"Romantic, even." you answer back.

He smirked and took your hand, leading you to what seemed like the bedroom. You both stood at the foot of the king sized bed. He took off your mask, then his. You finally got to see his full face and there was only one way to describe him: breathtaking.

"Not to be basic or anything but, like what you see?" he teased.

You look away, flustered and a little embarrassed for staring. He took your face in his hands and kissed you. Kissing him back, you couldn't resist giving into the temptation. Both of you fought for dominance, Hyuk eventually winning. Finally letting go for air, you both looked into each other's eyes. You leaned up and kissed him again, you arms wrapping behind his neck. As your lips crashed together, he laid you down on the bed. His lips left yours, moving down to your neck and collarbones, leaving a few marks. He looked up at you, sincerity filling his eyes.

"I'll ask you one last time, do you truly want this?" he asked. You nodded and kissed him again, urging him to continue. He sat up, taking off his jacket. He helped unzip your dress as your fingers worked on the buttons of his dress shirt. Once you both were discarded of all of your clothing, you couldn't help but admire him. Your hands hovered over his abdomen, not knowing if it was okay to touch or not. He noticed this and placed your hand on his body, silently telling you that he wanted you to touch him. Then, he finally took a moment to fully look at you, taking in your naked form.

"You look even more beautiful than I imagined"

"Imagined? But you don't even know my na-"

"Y/n. Your name is y/n, and mine is daddy for you tonight." he cut you off.

"Then please show me what you imagined, daddy" you said as your fingers traced his chest up to his shoulders. He kissed down your body from your chest to in between your legs. Spreading your thighs, pecking them and leaving a hickey or two, he slid two fingers between your folds. He then brought them up to you, showing how your arousal was practically dripping down his fingers.

"Suck" he commanded, placing his coated fingers on your bottom lip. You opened your mouth, letting his fingers enter and harshly sucking on them. He took them out, making a pop sound from how hard you sucked.

"Good girl" was the compliment you got before Hyuk made his way to in between your legs again. Starting with the two fingers you were previously sucking on, he started to slowly push them in.

Gasping as his fingers went deeper, your hands slowly bunch up the sheets under you in tight fists, the pleasure coursing through your body from head to toe. You then felt his lips wrap around your clit, harshly sucking, making your back arch off the bed. He added a third finger, going a little faster each time a moan left your lips. Your hands then went from gripping the sheets to lightly tugging his hair, legs keeping him in his position. Feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, your moans get louder, body getting more reckless.

"D-daddy, 'm gonna c-cum" you managed to get out between your moans. This urged him to go even harder on you, dead set on making you cum. He felt you clench tighter and tighter, adding a fourth finger, his tongue making obscene sounds against your wet core. He let out a small chuckle, sending vibrations through your pussy to the rest of you. With a few more pumps of his fingers and flicks of his tongue against your clit, you let go, your orgasm hitting so hard that your vision went blank for a few seconds. Hyuk licked up every single drop, absolutely basking in your taste and the way you clenched around his fingers even tighter than you already were when you cummed. Your chest was still heaving up and down when he took his fingers from your wet and sensitive pussy to his lips. He sucked his fingers off, lacing it with the same pop sound you had made earlier at the end.

"You taste so sweet, just like candy" he told you.

Giving him a small smile, you got up and took his hand, leading him to sit at the edge of the bed.

"I wanna taste you too. Can I daddy, please?" you asked, kneeling down between his legs. Taking a look at his length, you swore that it was the most beautiful cock you had ever seen. It was thick, long, and had just the right amount of veins. He lifted your chin to meet his eyes, nodding. Keeping eye contact, you start kitten licking his tip and watched as he let out a sigh of relief, head rocking back slightly as he bit his bottom lip. You then licked down the side, your tongue gliding over a vein, reaching the base and coming back up to the tip. Finally taking him in your mouth, he started to weave his fingers into your hair, holding your head down.

Going lower and taking him deeper, you started to lightly suck, keeping eye contact with him the whole time. You were now bobbing your head up and down on his cock, the tip hitting the back of your throat everytime you came down. His grip on your hair tightened, small grunts and moans leaving his lips as you kept going. Getting caught up in how good he felt, his hand kept your head still, hips starting to buck up and slowly thrust.

Now, his thrusts were harder, his cock hitting the back of your throat even deeper, making you gag slightly. Despite that, you let him thrust more, tears pricking at your eyes and threatening to spill, but you couldn't deny how much you enjoyed it all, enjoyed pleasing him. Feeling how his cock twitched when he thrust in, you knew he was close. He looked down at you, seeing how eager you are to make him feel good, your glossed over eyes, your lips wrapped around his length, how you were on your knees for him, hands on his thighs as your nails dug into them. Seeing you like this gave him the final push to climax, cumming with one last buck of his hips, grip on your hair tightening, and his quiet moans growing in volume, voice breaking towards the end. You got up, reaching eye level with him, letting him watch as you swallowed his cum, sticking your tongue out to prove that you consumed every last drop. He smirked and pulled your chin closer to catch your lips in a kiss, lips dancing with yours in a perfect harmony.

"Hands and knees on the bed, babygirl" he told you with a smirk.

You obeyed, scrambling as quick as you could to get on the bed in the position he had asked for. You heard shuffles as Hyuk made his way onto the bed, kneeling behind you, hands going to hold your hips. Leaning down, he spoke softly into your ear,

"Bad timing, but you're on the pill right?"

You nodded your head immediately, desperate for him to continue. He returned to his previous posture, now aligning his length to your entrance. He pushed in slowly, stopping when he bottomed out, giving you time to adjust. After giving him the okay, he started to thrust at a steady pace, rocking your hips along his cock while doing so. His movements made him hit deep and hard within you, making you feel fuller than you've ever been before.

Your body moved back and forth as he rammed into you, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing throughout the room. Moans were leaving your mouth like a mantra, sounding even louder than before. Arms giving out, you let your face meet the sheets, hands gripping at the pillows. His hips continued to harshly meet yours as he continued to push his length in and out of your now quivering pussy. Grabbing your wrists with one arm, he held them behind you as he continued to abuse your sensitive hole, going even faster and harder than before, eliciting even louder and more broken moans from you. His other arm reaching around to find your clit, rubbing it fast and harsh, making your body stutter along his thrusts.

"Tell me who's making you feel good" he grunted between thrusts.

"Y-you, mmf, you daddy, you're m-making me f-feel good"

"Yeah? How good?" he said, hand moving from your wrists to hold you hair, pulling you up so that your back met his chest.

"So, so, good-ah" you replied, moaning at how this new angle allowed his cock to hit a different part within you.

He continued to slam his hips into yours, soon switching your position so that you were now straddling him. Your arms held his shoulders, nails digging into them as he went harder with each thrust. Not long after, your nails raked down his shoulders to his back when he hit a specific spot that had you seeing stars. Incoherent curses were whispered in between your moans as he kept hitting that same spot, knowing fully well that he was ramming into your g-spot.

"R-right there, daddy, right t-there. Just l-like that please-" you were cut off by an especially hard thrust that sent you over the edge.

Your walls tightened around his length, your second orgasm hitting you even harder than the first. Your pussy was dripping, quivering, and convulsing as he kept going, riding out your climax. He loved seeing you like this, all fucked out because of him, from his cock, his doing, makeup smudged, saliva down your chin and even a few tears streaming down your cheeks. It all gave him a push to continue pushing into you, working up to his own climax. As he let his length slide in and out of your abused core, he ravished in the way you were still so tight, like velvet around his cock.

"Just a bit more babygirl, help daddy cum, can you do that?" he asked, seeing your worn out form.

Nodding your head you let out "yes, use me, use me to feel good daddy, use me to cum"

Hearing those words leave your mouth had his head become empty of all other thoughts, the only one staying being the thought of filling you up with his cum. Pushing into you even harder, and deeper if possible, he did as you had said and used you to reach his high. With a few last sloppy thrusts, he let go, cumming into you and filling you up as he intended to, staying still in you when he did. You let out an especially long moan when you felt his warm seed spill into you, happy and satisfied that you had made him feel good.

Pulling out, he watched as the thick, white liquid dripped out of you, mixing with your own arousal. Hyuk then got up, going into the connected bathroom, disappearing past the doorway. You closed your eyes, trying to calm down your breathing as you slowly came down from your high. You heard the water running from the faucet and how it splashed, then hearing a second faucet and water fill what you assumed was the tub. Then footsteps came from the bathroom, stopping near you. Feeling the bed dip, you kept your eyes closed as strong arms carried and placed you into the tub. The warm water immediately relaxing your muscles as you leaned back on the smooth surface of the tub. You were about to fall asleep, but before you did, you felt a kiss press against your temple.

"Don't worry, I'll get you cleaned up honey, just relax, you've had a long night"

Your eyes shot open as this wasn't the same voice you'd heard earlier.

It was Jackson's.

[jojoreadwhat]

i'm the best book you'll never read / honey & smoke - m.h. x OFC story

Lucy's POV.

It's been a weekend and three days since Matty tried kissing me under the stars. His breath still a lingering scent that wouldn't subside, so close to my pale skin. Laced with the red wine shared between us and the minty menthol he had threw before hovering over me. Sending this racing chill through my body that was fitting with the warmth of the wine I had consumed. His dark chocolate eyes like daggers against my crystal blues, tracing my face like transparent paper. A scene that wouldn't leave, a scene I was wish I played into instead of pause.

The words replaying in the savory tone of Matty's thick accent, 'You're not one of them' his calloused index finger running over my forehead. Moving the little strand dancing across it. 'Not in the slightest.'  Watching as his rare lips, so defined and gloss-like. Curl into this unconventional smile that was so.. inviting.

I sighed to myself, opening my eyes to the window with the picture perfect scene. Lightly shaking my head to possible mistake I had made. His strange absence painting the bigger picture that all was not the truth, that I was different in that moment. Only because I wanted more grammar rather than the tongue tied language he wanted to perform.

It was best to keep it a subtle memory, keeping me at bay for all the wonders I was expected to see in London. Matty was just an introduction to it all, starting the carpet that would lead me to all I was hoping to find here. Experience.

I looked down at my leather bound in my lap, writing the finishings of my entry before reading the watch on my wrist. Today is my first day working in the university's library. I buckled the strap of my journal, throwing it into my bag before grabbing another coffee for the walk.

++

I walked to the west wing of campus to the building separated from the rest of it, I swear the library for this campus was bigger than two mansions. Three floors full of magic aligned each shelf. A different world for a different day of the week. The smell ventilating so much that I could catch it into a jar like you would sand on a foreign beach.  

I clocked in, placing my belongings into a locker in the back. I bent down to fix the buckle of my mary jane's, before I stood in front of a community mirror. Straightening out my navy and green plaid skirt, readjusting the black tulip hem shirt following the placing of my lanyard over my neck.

Taking a breath, before going to look for my supervisor, Matilda. Blonde long haired woman approaching her fifties. Blue eyes similar to mine and this angelic face that you only seen in those old Victorian paintings in museums. With a very laid back style, a different patterned skirt everytime I seen her during study hall. Loaded with different amounts of jewelry, and smelling of fresh eucalyptus.

She was marking books with little color tags on their linings. Separating them from different genres. I lightly tapped her because you know the rules of libraries, six inch voices. She spun around with a warming smile, kind of like the one my mom gave.

"Ah, Ms. Collins. It's your first day!" She exclaimed ever so quietly.  Placing her arm around my shoulders blades as she directed me. Her light embrace warming me heavily, "I've been looking forward to working with you."

--------------------------------------------

Matty's POV.

I stood at the counter of Rocket Records as each strike of the clock moved and people browsed through the plastic wraps of wonders. I was in the mist of heading to uni when James called in a frantic. Ryan, the morning shift had an emergency to attend too. Taking me out of the terrible excuse of books and lectures. So I could stare at the girl a few rows in front.

Friday kept replaying in my head.

The way she danced to the strums of my guitar. The way her face squinted after her first sip of her drink. Her refreshed skin glistening against the neons as she came out of the ladies room. Her little hand in mine as I led her on the outskirts, buying cheap wine to watch the street lights and stars make align in her eyes. That laugh cascade over the sounds of the stale city, making it ever so bright in the night. The way she was so small laying slightly beneath me, how every bit of the details etched on her face. Were what she considered flawed, but to I so beautiful blended. Lastly how guarded her valuable heart was as her small hands barely amounted to the strong opinions running from her mouth.

I smirked in thought at the way her eyes widened when I didn't move my stance. Which them open from fear she was trying to have subside, to the curiosity of why I was still lying there. Showing that what I remarked back was the most truth I had ever spoken. She was not the red head in the bar when she seen her hands resting around me. Not the blonde that left my flat the day I found Lucy in my Creative Writings class. She was Lucy. Lucy Collins, a girl with lines to read and understand.

The little bell over the door had rang, my two friends and bandmates Ross and Adam peering from the sunny autumn breeze. Holding bags of clanking bottles and snacks as they rested them on the counter in front of me.

"It's Wednesday." I reminded. Very aware of the events taking place tonight.

Ross looked at me taken back on my greetings. "It's two days till Friday. We are just preparing." He replied, Adam chiming in beside him with a chuckle. I sighed to myself, taking the tagging gun and running along a pile.

"Is it a big one?" I asked, my mind flooding with papers due and studying to do. As much as I would be usually stoked for the midnight ride, I wasn't feeling it much.

Adam shook his head, "Preparing remember?" He remarked, resting his arms on the counter. "It's just enough for good food, good tunes and some nice company." He added, picking up a record.

"Plus, we think you should invite Lucy." Ross added once more, "She's quite the catch."

For my usual laid back, very unreadable expressions. I could feel the curl in my cheeks with only the truth filling the room. She's a definitely a catch. A catch so difficult to grasp.

----------------------------------------------

Lucy's POV.

Matilda had directed to me the front desk, giving me light duty today because we were pretty swamped. It was the middle of the next week now and there was essays and exams due. I felt all the same pain, I had a double whammy of exams on Friday that I was dreading to bits.

I worked with the computer, helping my fellow classmates if we had books available or if they had been checked out. It was definitely a sucky job, I hated the feeling knowing you didn't get to a book in time. It was like getting to class late... And naked to top it off.

Eventually it had died down. Matilda was now at the desk with me, eating peanuts and checking library check out slips.

"So Ms. Collins. What are you studying?" She asked, during my interview it was cut short so she didn't get to ask about why this American was in London.

I helped check slips with her, "Literature. I write." I explained, I didn't really have a direction when it came to what type of writing I was studying. I took up creative writing and women studies as extras cause many books I read were along those lines. But honestly, I just wanted anything to everything about writing at my fingertips. Writing never had directions, just flows.

She seemed pleased, "My daughter is a writer too." She went on, looking just like her I bet, pretty long blonde hair, taking the world by storm.  Writing about experiences she had and was experiencing things as we spoke. Wearing a coat of many colors without any shame. That would be a level I'd like to reach after this.

"I bet you have great stories." She continued, I smiled at her positivity. She had no idea that I only had a first kiss in Junior high and talked to a homeless guy once or twice. All my experiences being so blah and that standing in this library. In a place so new, was more exciting than all of them combined. "I bet he knows that too." She added once more, my face immediately flustering into confusion.

She smiled at my questioning look of her mentions. "He was here a few days ago when you had picked up My Life On The Road." She explaining more specifically, "His eyes were all over you more than the book in his hands."

She went on to describing him but I didn't need more, instead I was beginning to feel more guilt than I already had. Totally judging him by his past when mine was just a sheet of lined paper. Jotted with scarce notes that never even made it to the market, just a list of things I never did.

++

Matilda set the alarm before locking the doors and saying goodnight. Day one of work had been surprisingly smooth than I expected. Leaving me now with enough energy of diving into textbooks and paperbacks of my own. Excited for the fresh bottle of pumpkin spice creamer in the fridge, the Coldplay record that was delivered to the house via email and the half eaten tub of apple crisp flavored ice cream. Waiting to be devoured in the freezer hidden behind the stack of frozen peas.

With the unlikely exciting things to be thrilled about for some when getting home. I retraced the familiar route to the tube that would lead me to my happy events of the night. The mixed aromas of firewood and the brisk winds tickling my nose, I went to slip in my headphones. Finishing from the middle of Moose Blood when the voice I kept hearing replay in my mind. Was now colliding against the autumn winds.

"Hey Blue." His voice sliding down my spine like ice.

Leaning against his car that was dark like the sky above. His hands in the green army jacket over the white and blue of his flannel, edging out all the tone of his build. His black infamous holed jeans meeting at the bottom where his vans were crossed. Casually playing the aesthetic he walked.

I walked towards to him, stopping two feet but only itching to get closer.

"How did you know I was here?" I asked with his absence from Creative Writing remained on my mind.

He smirked, probably mentally preparing for all the questions to roll off my tongue like a ball on the ground. "Abby told me that you were working." He replied, surprised that he went looking for me in the first place.

"Were you hoping I fetched your homework?" I remarked. My mind immediately regretting the bantering remark.

He shook his head, "No." looking down at his shoes. "I was hoping to catch you." Before his brown eyes met mine again, even with the indigo that surrounded us. They were so bright, golds so prominent like the moon dancing with stars.

"The boys and I are having a party tonight." He said, "I was hoping you could stop by."

My mind playing tricks splitting like a Gemini on a off day, one part wanting to cover my face with apple crisp ice cream. The other was Matty opening the door to the passenger seat of his car.

++

The party was smaller than I had thought about on the drive here. Just a handful of friends, good brews and fresh tunes.

Matty grabbed me a drink before grabbing my hand and pulling me to the dance floor. I was never much for parties or the way my hips move off beat. But for Matty's hands to lay on my waist as his wine breath danced along the skin of my neck. I was fabricating more ways in my head for this feeling to be more frequent. The past thoughts of earlier as I was dealing with guilt for Friday. Were beginning to feel sighs of reliefs with all the words Matty babbled and the laughs he caused to ripple against the music.

More people started coming in from the yard, changing the vibe and it was getting more difficult to listen to Matty talk. Finding the words that would fall so easily were being replaced by nods and smiles. Trying to hint a bit that it was beginning to be crowded and he was all I wanted to listen too.

"Let's go to my room." He slightly slurred without waiting for a response, his hand moving from the fabric resting on my waist. Now running along into my hand as he moved through the crowd till we reached stairs.

He turned the knob of a door covered in nonsense stickers of bands till we entered his room. The room loosely matched his door, posters in multiple different sizes overlapping, collages, and a tapestry of different faces he admired plaster on the walls. I looked around, Matty turning on a lamp on his nightstand before sitting on his bed. Silently watching me as I silently observed the things that hadn't fallen from his mouth.

I chuckled to myself as I counted a few more pictures of Prince than Michael Jackson. The first week of his friendliness and his one man protest of who was better coming to mind. "You really think Michael Jackson is better?" I recanted, pointing out some of the snippets of articles I had found. "Okay, maybe. But Prince definitely has killer style." He replied as I shook my head in amusement. Trailing my eyes to the colorful bookshelf with bold names seeping. Picking up Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. A book I had all intentions of picking up in the bookstore back home, but it never made it to the register.

The sound of a lighter clicking as Matty lit his menthol was followed with his towering figuration standing from his gray duvet covered bed.

"Ever read it?" He asked, the cigarette moving with every curl of his lip. Wrapping his fingers around it as he pulled it away to exhale. I shook my head, a look of surprise gracing his face. The English major failing to read a book that fallen between cracks and rolled up lists.

I watched as he brought the cigarette back to his perfectly formed lips, inhaling once before exhaling into a question. "Do you remember your first English class?" He began, middle school replaying in my mind, Ms. Lindsay's pretty floral dress, the posters aligning the walls with every author you could imagine. She was a big part of my decision of devoting my life into words, journals and novels.

Matty's voice breaking me from my memory, "Remember when they taught you to never judge a book by it's cover?" He added, I looked back down at the book that was falling to pieces, the cover was beginning to wear and the colors becoming stale. "Even if it's a over read story or just a plot you'll never fully understand?" Inhaling once again, "Or just a author with too much exposure?" I ran my fingers over it's folded pages, the old and fresh notes made in the indents.

All his questions beginning to connect like the lining of the book. Matty was a book, folded at it's edges, full of knowledge and secrets some old from past lives, some new. Over read like the one in my hands.

I looked up at Matty who was beginning to raise his hand to take another swing of his cigarette. I had other ideas when I gently grabbed his wrist before I reached up and met his lips with mine. He was taken back my sudden action, making two of us. I was nervous about what I had begun but it all subsided when his hands wrapped around my waist. Pulling me closer, tasting what I was about to guard myself from, like he was a banned book that I was going to go through all lengths to read.