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mommyymunson · 2 years

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The Freak’s Superhero//Chapter Two: Batter up! (An Eddie Munson Fanfic)

Chapter 1! - https://mommyymunson.tumblr.com/post/690691192770510848/the-freaks-superherochapter-one-escaping-his

I was always meant to be Papa's ultimate weapon. The most gifted, the most powerful, the one with the most tricks up her sleeve. That's why he kept me the most secret, he could do whatever he needed in order to make his task come true. Using torture as training to be able to do anything that was related to the human psyche. Countless sleepless nights in the padded room, numerous shocks with his 'special collar'; all in the name of research. But I think I'd rather be there than here at the current moment.

As much as I had hoped and prayed for the questions to stop, God seemed to find my annoyance a comedy show as the three children kept 'em coming. After a half an hour of Dustin's inquiries, the other two children joined in. If the intense pain radiating in my entire body wasn't gonna drive me insane, these three children definitely were going to. No matter how silent I stayed, they just never stopped, I think it even encouraged them to keep going.

"Have you ever..-" Dustin continued before I finally let out the agitated scream I've been holding in the last twenty minutes. My body contorted in a crazed sort of state, my head whipping to the air as my voice roared out in all its irritation. I had to let it out in anyway I could, All I craved was just a moment of silence but the incessant children weren't allowing that anytime soon. With my fingers grabbing and tugging at the scalp, my meltdown finally came to a close as I turned my attention to Dustin and the other children once again.

"I have different powers than Eleven, being more powerful is objective, I don't know why I look 'creepy', I've had Eggos maybe once, yes, no, I don't even know who that is, yes I can make myself fly sort of, no, no, yes Brennar is my father..-" all of the answers of the entire thirty-seven minute quiz show came flowing out of my mouth. Once I had finally answered the entirety of them, I gave the boy a knowing glance that meant, 'please for the love of all that is holy, shut UP.' Although at this point, I think he took it as a challenge.

"You didn't answer my question of, 'does it hurt your eyes when they go black like they did.'"

In the moment, I thought scaring him off was gonna be my best bet. Gripping the fabric latched onto his shoulder, my eyes searched the endless corners of his brain. Once I had gotten to the section dedicated to visual intake, I warped his optical perception of how I looked. Morphing my facial features into a thing of horror. Long scragglier looking hair, eyes completely melted in black, my skin as pale as snow, teeth as pointy as pitchforks; this would surely do the trick. He would be the only one who could see me like this because, even though he thinks its reality, I'm only changing how he can see me. When his face pulled into a goofy smile and he used his free arm to check out my imaginative face, I knew my plan had failed.

"Woah how did you do that? That's so cool! You look kinda like Linda Blair." he continued exploring my crazed features in fascination. All I could do was pull the veil from over his eyes and stare at him in disbelief. Weren't kids supposed to get scared at that kind of stuff? Shaking the thought out of my head, I just continued walking and of course, they resumed with me.

"What are you talking about Dustin? She didn't look any different to me." Lucas spoke.

"You mean you guys couldn't see it? She looked like a demon straight out of a horror movie. Hey Zero, How did you do that?" Dustin pulling up to my left, staring up at me like a lost puppy.

"I just changed your view on how I looked, it only worked on you because I was only channeling you to see it." I huffed out, still hoping the questions would end. They exclaimed to one another how cool that was and how the two others wanted to see as well, but soon the topic grew old as soon as it emerged.

"So what kind of powers do you have then?" Max asked her now twelve question as we continued our journey over the twigs and aging leaves.

I ran my palm over the entirety of my sweat stain face and sighed, "The power to sew all your mouths shut if you don't quit it."

"Wait..like actually?" Lucas asked, almost pausing his movement through the many trees around us.

"If I really try hard enough, maybe." I shot him a mischievous grin that oozed in phoney wickedness.

Sensing this was never going to end, I mentally pushed their bodies far in front of me with the wave of my hand. They all let out small gasps as they each felt the rush from their bodies going forward telepathically. Once I had them at enough distance away, I stopped them. They all quizzically turned their backs to me as I just pointed in front of us, signaling them to go. That seemed to, at last, do the trick for them as they all started to walk faster in front of me. The threat of being able to control their bodies at my whim seemed to give them enough clarity to leave me alone. Finally some damn peace and quiet. I gave myself a subtle victory fist through the air; although it wasn't elusive enough as I heard a chuckle come from right behind me.

"You could've easily gotten those rug-rats off your back ages ago but you didn't. Are they starting to grow on you, Miss. Zero?"

It was the handsome, tatted devil from before that had broken the brief seconds of silence. He started to match my pace so he could walk beside me, still having that sinful smirk from before sketched into his face.

"Definitely not, I just found their curiosity amusing at first but then I couldn't even hear my own thoughts. That was before I could even think them, mind you." His eyes bore into mine the entire time, almost like he was memorizing all of me. I hate to admit it, my ego taking a small bruising, but his unwavering stare made me become flustered. It was incredibly bizarre in fact, men never had any sort of affect on me. Well, besides one man.

Before I could feel the traumatizing thoughts start to form, his earthy laugh had grounded me back to reality. Back to our synchronized walk through the forest, our hands brushing against each other every so often.

"I don't know, sweetheart. I caught quite a few glimpses of a smile on your lips before," he was teasing me, I knew that but his confidence and charisma had me biting my bottom lip in embarrassment. He knew I was lying, "didn't seem like you were too bothered by them, to me."

His palm abruptly stuck out to me, giving me an expecting look, "I'm Eddie by the way, Eddie the banished if we're being fancy."

Lacing my fingers into his calloused fist, I gave it a small squeeze and a few shakes. "Zero, Zero the...Indestructible, if you'd like to refer to me as a DnD title," he gave a little wiggle of his eyebrows before releasing my hand, "And alright, I guess I did find them kind of cute; but it was only because I had basically watched them grow up the past few years....," his look of confusion urged me to continue,"When I was down there, in the upside down as they deem it, I was held captive for a very long time. Three years in fact. The only reason I knew how long it had been was because of them. I'm guessing you haven't known the boys that long considering I don't recognize you, but I was with them since the moment Mike met El, his girlfriend. It was 'Spiritually' of course, its a long story."

His gaze never strayed as he listened intently to what I had to say, finally that smile had left his face and was replaced with a look of understanding. I could tell that he was paying attention to every word I said as we stumbled over the bumps of grass and dirt.

"Well I might have to push back that reservation I have in thirty minutes, but I think I can squeeze you in. Continue on, tale teller."

The laugh that erupted out of me was small and meek, but it felt so good to feel something like laughter again. That damned grin come back again as soon as it had left, looking rather proud of himself for giving me a quick chuckle.

"God, I haven't laughed in years."

"Well you're in luck, I happen to be the funniest person you'll ever meet. So you'd better get used to it quickly, milady," he gave a quick bow to me as I smiled down at him, shaking my head," but sorry, you were saying?"

"Right right, so I'm unaware how familiar you are of El's powers, but basically she's able to locate anyone of her choosing with her mind. Almost like if she were with us right now, she could hear and see exactly what we're doing but not really be able to communicate with us. It's a handy tool for gathering information, and that's exactly what I did in my time down there. She was really the only person I could consider family, all the rest of them were dead or an absolute asshole, pardon my french."

He raised his hands as if to say, 'look at me, you think I'm gonna stop you? Swear all you like.' To which, I just rolled my eyes playfully at him and resumed.

"It was so incredibly lonely down there, so cold and every part of my body ached from being bound," I lifted up my weak arm to show him my battle scars; the large black and blue bruises completely covering my wrists,"I wanted, well more like needed them in there. They kept me grounded, sane. Whether they were just playing games at the arcade or fighting off whatever final boss the upside down threw at them; they gave me a reason to keep going. I had dreamed of the time when I'd finally meet them, If I could even meet them. How I would kick their asses in Dig-Dug, have them teach me how to play Dungeons and Dragons, or even protect them with every fiber of my being; I wanted to keep them safe and happy. Because they're the reason I'm here right now, talking to you. I would've been dead a long time ago without them, just giving up the will to live. I would protect them with my life, and that's exactly why I knew I had to help Max get out. I won't let them be a victim of him like he made me." He only listened, not interrupting just letting me tell the story. When I had finally paused to take a breath though was when he spoke up.

"Well you don't need them to teach you the basics of Dnd, I'm the best dungeon master around. I could definitely show you the ropes when we're done with this Vecna shit and I'm no longer a wanted man." he scratched at the back of his neck bashfully and looked into my eyes once again.

"Is that so? Hopefully that's not all you'll be showing me." my damned mouth was working in overdrive before my mind could keep up. Causing my eyes to explode with shock and my cheeks to heat up a hundred degrees hotter. I couldn't look at him directly after that, only trying to quick cover up my not-so subtle attempt at flirting.

"I m-mean..I'd like to learn the in depths to the game too, not just the basics, ya know? That's all that I meant, nothing else. Heh." my voice trembled as I ran with the best coverup I could give. His face twisted into a sly, teasing smile as he studied my outburst. Why in God's name did I just deliberately flirt with this man in a situation like this?! It must be from the lack of sleep and oxygen down there, yeah that's it. Thankfully before he could shoot back any sort of response to my stupidity, Dustin's sudden bolt through the woods pulled all off Eddie's attention. It seemed the kid Sherlock had found a clue.

"Dustin, Can you slow down? Dustin," he called after the boy but it was to no avail, both of us jogging to match his pace. Before Dustin could plunder himself into the calm waters of the lake, Eddie and I took one of his shoulders each and held him back from a damp conclusion,"Watch your step, big guy."

All of them seemed to be confounded by the large reservoir, not being able to believe that one of the gates could be in the very well known spot, "Lover's Lake." Although I knew they couldn't feel it, the uncomfortable energy from the opening to Hell instantly spiraled under my skin. Washing my entire body in uneasiness.

"There's a gate in Lover's lake?" Max spoke up, looking around us in almost disbelief.

"Whenever the demogorgon attacked, it always left an opening...maybe Vecna is the same way?" it was Nancy's turn to speak as she tried to figure out the reason. I nodded my head in agreement as I descended into the blissfully cool water, without so much as bothering to take even my shoes off.

"You'd be correct, detective. He can only make a portal once his victim takes their last breath, unlike me. I'm able to open the barrier whenever I need to, considering how much practice I've had at it, it's become rather easy. The only downfall is once I open one, I have a timer of roughly eight hours before I can open another. Takes too much out of me." The lake clung to every bit of dirt and grime that stuck to my body. I began to scrub as much as I could off and ducked my head fully under before Steve spoke up.

"You're seriously taking a bath, right now?"

"You go three years without one and let me know how disgusting the filth feels. From the looks of you, you wouldn't be able to survive a full twenty four hours without some hair spray." I threw his judgement right back at him as Dustin and Lucas snickered. Steve shot death glares down at them and just beckoned Eddie to follow him. Throwing the tarp off, a slightly wet boat was uncovered. I swam over in their direction as the two men pulled it into the water beside me, Robin using their heads to stable herself as she entered the wobbly vessel.

Dripping onto the dry land, I smoothed my hair back; already feeling much more refreshed but I still yearned for some soap. The frizzy haired man followed after Robin, then Nancy. I watched as Eddie's eyes suddenly turned towards me, observing me from head to toe. I looked down at myself to see that my off-white tank top and ripped black shorts had stuck to my skin. The color of my burgendy bra clearly showing through. He cleared his throat and noticed Dustin trying to wedge himself inside the boat beside his companions. His head got flicked back and Eddie just gave him a dumb look.

"You trying to sink us? This boat holds three people tops, okay." Dustin didn't seem to be having it though as Nancy spoke up next.

"It's better this way okay? You guys stay here with Max, keep an eye out."

"You keep an eye out!" Wheeler's face twisted in baffle as Dustin mimicked it, mockingly, "It's my goddamn theory!"

I couldn't help the small snort that erupted from my throat, quickly covering my face in embarrassment. I had to admit, the kid was starting to grow on me. They continued their bickering until Dustin finally caved, handing the small group his beloved compass, begrudgingly. Nancy gave me a questioning look, silently asking what my next move was. The fear was starting to bubble over the brim, I could feel the energy from the gate lull me forward. My eyebrows furrowed in anxiety as my feet stumbled back rather ungracefully. She seemed to get the message as she signaled Steve to push the boat forward, jumping into the 'max of three' boat afterwards.

"You said three!" dustin's distain for the lying four quite evident as Steve just uttered a quick apology. He gave them a not so subtle middle finger as they slowly traveled through the rippling water. Why were they using the oars instead of the motor?

"Hey! Is the motor broken?" cupping around my mouth for maximum volume, Eddie glanced in my direction and gave a quick nod. This was gonna take forever. Tapping the bottoms of my shoes, I took a hesitant step onto the surface of the water. Concentrating all my energy into keeping myself from sinking. Once I felt the weight from my feet dissipate, I took another stride onto the water and just like that, I was walking on top of the Lake.

"What are you, Jesus?!" Eddie joked, watching in awe as I started closing the gab between me and the boat. All of them stared in my direction, not so much focusing on actually moving, just in my holy ability. They hadn't gotten far from shore so it didn't take long before I was right in front of them, wrapping my fingers into a tight fist and slamming it down onto the motor. As they all jumped back startled, the motor began roaring to life. Not really expecting a standing ovation, I gave them a royal bow and turned on my heel to head back to the children. Probably still too stunned to speak, they all stayed silent as they just took advantage of my gift and let the boat do all the work for them.

"When this is all over, you really gotta show us everything you can do." Lucas requested as my feet finally hit dry land again.

"And spoil all of my secrets? Absolutely not." I shot him a small smile as he just shook his head in disappointment. We all watched as they went on a steady, not too fast pace towards the gate and all I could do was feel the swell of regret. Why didn't I go with them? Nancy was nothing but kind to me and I must've let her down. Why did I have to be so scared all the time? He couldn't reach me here so what was there to be worried about?

"Wait, wait, wait, they're stopping. What are they stopping for?" Lucas announced, hitting Dustin lightly in the chest to get his attention.

"What's going on guys, talk to me come on." Dustin had a slight panic in his voice, but I couldn't blame him; all of us were on edge as we awaited an answer. Then Robin's voice blared through the walky.

"Dustin, your compass has gone from wonky to wonky with a capital 'ahhh'!"

We all anxiously waited as Lucas kept his eyes on the group, expecting something anything to happen. It wasn't until they started talking about Steve's chest hair that the air got less intense. Wait, why was Steve taking his shirt off? Oh God, don't tell me.

"When did Steve get so hairy?"

"Right? I keep telling him he needs to tame that jungle, but he claims the ladies dig it." Dustin pulled my attention away from the group, almost giving me another small chuckle in this extreme situation.

"Let me see." Max practically ripped the binoculars out of Lucas's grip and held them to her vision. The boy seemed ready to decline but also like he wanted to know if what Dustin said was true. When she started watching for a prolonged amount of time, the held in giggle came tumbling out of my lips. The two couldn't believe what Steve 'the hair' Harrington had said was correct. When the red head held the long distance goggles to me, I politely just shook my head and held my hand up.

"I'm not into a lot of hair, maybe a nice happy trail but not everywhere." She seemed to nod her head in understanding as Dustin and Lucas just gagged to my response. I ruffled their heads almost bullyingly as we continued watching the boat ahead os us. They seemed to cut the tension that was building in my muscles by half.

"You guys realize, if there's a gate down there, it's technically a water gate." Dustin looked expectantly at us, waiting a few seconds for some sort of reaction before he finally cracked and laughed himself. I didn't let him see the half smile that was adorning my face as the other two didn't even acknowledge him.

Suddenly there was twigs snapping and leaves crunching behind us, we all spun around in fear seeing several flashlights shine just above us. Ducking behind a fallen tree stump, we quickly found out it was the cops who were hot on our trail. Almost as if she knew now was the worst time, Robin's voice started blaring through the speakers, they had found the gate. Turning it off quickly, and knowing we couldn't let the police find Eddie and arrest him; Max told us to trust her as she started shouting. Gathering the attention of our intruders, we started following after the sprinting girl. But that was when I suddenly felt a pang of dread creep up my shoulders and over my neck. I stopped in my tracks and turned my attention to the lake again, the water was rippling unnaturally around them. I know something is wrong.

"Guys! Go on without me, I'll catch up!" Whisper-shouting to them, gathering my power once again and manipulating the cops vision like I did to Dustin before. Now, to them I was invisible and they could only see the three in front of me.

"Zero, what are you doing?!" Dustin worried, but I didn't have time to answer him as I started stumbling back to where we were before the chase.

I was right, there was now only Eddie left in the boat, shouting and freaking out by himself. If this were any other time, I'd probably burst into tears laughing at his meltdown but I knew exactly why he was. Robin, Steve, and Nancy were no longer there so that could only mean they went down to the gate. It was like my body moved on it's own, before's fear seemingly never existed. Taking one last adequate breathe before diving right into the water. I paddled my way through the ripples of water that seemed to wanna slow me down, but for once I was thankfully to Papa. Not only did he train my mind, he trained my body too. Like I said, I was his ultimate weapon. Going as far as hiring blacklisted assassins to train my body through the sweat and blood. Teaching me martial arts moves and making my body as flexible as it could be. The infinite hours of being beat senseless and forcing my muscles to memorize every move, every action they taught me. I was trained to become a stone cold assassin, to become artillery, to become something less than human.

The freezing liquid did nothing for my nerves, as I soon saw the door that lied at the bottom. Eddie's body being pulled into the tiny crack in the surface. He must've jumped in after I did. Seeing him only exhilarated me to go even faster, treading closer and closer until I finally reached the opening. They were right, it was extremely small for a gate. My confidence began dwindling as I knew I was gonna be in his territory as fast as I left it. Before I let it run down to zero though, I let my body get sucked through the small opening.

The gravity contorted and lunged my body into a stand as my eyes took in the sight before me. Steve was being choked and bitten by the bats on the floor as the other three were using the oars to beat them. Eddie was trying to confidently fight them off but I could tell he was as scared as the rest of them. The two women were tag teaming the remaining bats that clung to Steve; who was finally beginning to regain his composure. Well, I think they've had enough. Taking my middle finger and thumb into the edge of my mouth, my breathe whistled between the two; gathering the attacks and defenders attention.

"Having all the fun without me?"

The second the flying demons took notice of me, they all began scattering. Assuming they remembered their companions being fed forcefully to me by Henry. Scrambling, their wings took flight, attempting to scamper away. The four's movements stilled as I sauntered towards them. Letting the power that boiled in my soul explode in my fingertips. The bats that remained in trying to get a good meal, were soon exploding into a glob of flesh. The searing echoes of their screams reverberated in the empty space among us. Enjoying finally being able to use my powers once again, I held my fingers in the shape of a pistol and pinpointed each creature. One by one they erupted until the only ones that were left were the ones fleeing through the air.

"Hah, as if I'd let you get away."

Taking boulder-sized chunks of the ground beneath, I raised them into the air before slamming them back down as hard as I could. Creating small rocks that were just the perfect size. I let them hang in the air as I turned to Robin who just watched, starstruck.

"Can I borrow this? Thanks," I grabbed the wooden tool from her unmoving hands. Getting a feel for it's small amount of weight in my palms. I tapped the end of it onto the ground twice before raising it behind my back, "I'd suggest you guys duck, it's time for some baseball."

Everyone looked amongst themselves in utter confusion, until the sudden euphony dawned on them and their bodies dropped to the floor. They held their bodies protectively but still managed to watch the game I was about to present them. Perhaps it was a bit childish to do this, but I haven't felt this kind of rush in such a long time, it was like a drug to me right now. It gave me such an onslaught of excitement that I couldn't help the huge grin that spread across my lips.

"They don't call me Babe Ruth for nothin' kiddos." And with that, I swung the makeshift baseball bat through the air and the pieces of gravel and semi-large rocks bolted. The speed they were going at, they were like bullets to the unsuspecting rats with wings that tried to leave. They were no match for my impeccable aim as the varying pieces of stone tore their small bodies in half. One by one, they dropped to the ground like flies. Not a single one left to bite the dust, the sky being completely clear now. It goes to show that I still haven't lost my touch. I wiped the small droplets of sweat that began to form on my forehead and glanced at the group behind me. They were all wiping the dust off themselves, still looking like they just witnessed a thing of fiction. Not even a single applause for my homerun, huh?

"Who calls you Babe Ruth?" Robin slyly asked but I just chose to ignore her.

Finally, their astonishment began to dwindle. Steve spit out what looked to be the remnants of a bat's head, the blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. Nancy began freaking out for the wounded boy and rushed up to his aid.

"Jesus H Christ!" Eddie huffed, throwing the oar down in exasperation. Although the situation we were in, I chuckled at his sudden outburst. Even when he's being serious, he still had a flair for the dramatics.

"Uh, do you guys think these bats have, like, rabies? It's just that rabies are, like, my number one greatest fear. And I think we should get you to a doctor soon, because once the symptoms set in, it's too late. You're already dead." Robin ranted, panic setting in the more she spoke.

"Robin, I promise you, if they were gonna give anybody rabies; I would've gotten it a long time ago." I rolled my eyes at her fear, she couldn't be too afraid of our current predicament if she's talking about something as simple as a virus.

"You got bitten a lot down here?" Steve breathed out, he must've been feeling woozy from the pain in his lower abdomen.

"No I ate them."

The silence surrounding us was so thick, I could practically feel it hugging my body.

"You're joking right?" Robin choked out, seemingly not believing my statement.

"How else do you think I ate for three whole years? I was tortured for the entire time, why do you think he'd stop at Bat consumption?" I will probably always remember the dreadful, tangy taste of demon bat flesh that practically stung my tongue and throat going down. My non-descending stomach evident of my reluctance to eat the foul meal.

The echoes of screams in the air interrupted their judgement, more of the demobats on their way here. So, they called for their buddies huh? I stood in waiting, ready for the attack once again but the other four weren't up to the challenge apparently.

"We can't take that many of them by ourselves...the woods! Let's go!" Nancy announced, turning on her heel and booking it for the large standings of wood. The other three began following her, as I just watched them in contemplation.

"What are you talking about, I'm fine to keep go-..oh never mind." Not wanting to be left behind, I sprinted after them, only going at half my full speed. My unwillingness to flee not causing me to find the need to. It almost seemed like they forgot I just took down at least a hundred of those suckers two minutes prior. Maybe it was the anxiety for Steve's condition that made them want to make a break for it. I'm not sure, all I know is that if I don't get at least a single compliment about my badass baseball skills later, I'm gonna be real upset.

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #stranger things #eddie x reader

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uhgood-dooghu · 4 years

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The Contradiction of the Century [M]

Pairing Dancer!Hoseok x Dancer!Reader

Summary Hobi’s duality is unparalleled, and nowhere does it come out more than in the bedroom. Needless to say, he leaves you sore as much as practice does.

Genre Smut, fluff, crack, dancer!au, gratuitous porn and that’s it

Warnings Unprotected sex, oral (female), face riding, dom!Hobi, edging/orgasm denial, mirrors, dirty talk, lots of begging and (non-serious, sexually frustrated) threatening, everything’s consensual & they’re in love

Word Count 5.2k

Cross-posted to AO3

“Yo, we should have a dance battle!”

You lift your tired head to find your best friend grinning as she hooks up her phone to the sound system. Upbeat music fills the studio, and she rounds on the small crowd, bouncing lightly on her feet.

“Eh?” She prompts, wiggling her eyebrows. “Guys versus girls, losers treat winners to, I don’t know, food?”

A murmur of interest runs through your teammates as they clamber to their feet. You, however, groan and arch your back, cringing when your spine cracks. A familiar chuckle filters down, and you crane your neck, rolling your eyes at Hoseok's cheeky grin.

“Shut up, Hobi,” you mutter, but allow him to pull you to your feet.

His suggestive wink does not go unnoticed as you massage circles into your lower back, still sore from the way he contorted your body in half and buried his head between your thighs barely 8 hours ago. You shudder at the memory, but before he can comment, Jimin has him in an iron grip, dragging him across the room and letting out some sort of high pitched whine about needing to win because he is just shy of broke.

In a matter of moments, the studio is echoing with a chorus of cheers and taunts as Jungkook moves to the center, driving your pain from your mind. You can’t help but grin fondly at the collective enthusiasm. Leave it to your friends to get way too hyped over the prospect of free food.

You wait until most of the girls have danced their part before stepping out. As if on cue, the group falls back slightly, leaving you and Hoseok to face each other in the middle of the studio.

“Finish it off, lovebirds,” Jimin sings, and your lips tug upwards in a smirk directed at your boyfriend.

“Ready to lose, baby?” You taunt, starting to move as the music transitions.

With a grin, he shoves his hands in his pockets and tips his head back. “Do your worst.”

Keeping your eyes level, you run a hand suggestively through your hair and lick your lips. Instantly, all signs of his normal, bright playfulness disappear, replaced by a steady, calculating gaze that follows your movements with a searing intensity. You are known for your intricate footwork, and you temporarily lose yourself in your movements, barely registering the high pitched cheers as your feet fall in sync with the beat.

A moment later, however, you catch sight of Hoseok and smirk. He has a slightly glazed expression on his face as he watches your feet move, looking up with a heated stare only when you begin to move towards him. You wet your lip again as you push into his personal space, dancing around him until you are pressed into his back, and lean up so your breath ghosts over his neck.

You wrap your arms around him and feel him up, your hands finding their way to the waistband of his sweats. Dipping your fingers below the elastic, you snap it against his hips, and a loud “ohhh” rips through the room. He tenses under your touch, making you grin into the back of his shoulder before slinking back around.

You drop and spin your body low to the floor, locking your gaze with his smoldering eyes. As you travel up his front, your fingertips brush over his thighs and taught stomach until they tap a rhythm against his chest. Leaning in, you brush your lips against his.

“Your turn,” you breathe, then you are giving him a rough push and sauntering backwards.

If he is affected, he does an impeccable job of hiding it, because all you get is a twitch of his jaw and the faintest quirk of his eyebrow as you slide smoothly across the floor amidst a chorus of whoops and whistles. When you slow to a stop, you feel your best friend hissing in your ear.

“Damn, girl, he looks like he wants to eat you alive.”

You catch your tongue between your teeth with a grin, but your face quickly turns pensive when you see the darkness in Hoseok’s gaze. As he starts to move, you catch the glint in his eye, and your stomach flips. He only gets that glint when he’s dancing…

Or fucking you senseless.

A shiver runs up your spine. You can’t tear your eyes away even if you wanted to, his stare commanding your attention. And as he twists his body to the beat, you are transfixed.

Sure, you are a good dancer–hell, you all are great dancers–but Hoseok exists on a whole other level of the dancing stratosphere, miles above you. The way his limbs seem to go boneless, feet almost floating above the floor, body conforming seamlessly to the music, divides the room into ecstatic cheers of excitement and groans of defeat.

“Fuck yeah, J-Hope!”

“Goddammit, we should’ve left him out of this.”

“Hell yeah, that’s my boy!”

“We lost.”

Suddenly, the song morphs into something slower and more sensual, and every few beats Hoseok inches closer, keeping his gaze fixed on you. You narrow your eyes, widening your stance and straightening your posture to brace yourself. But then he drops and closes the distance, sliding on his knees until his face is centimeters from the apex of your thighs. A cry rises from the small audience, and you can feel his breath through the thin fabric of your shorts. Your head goes light as you blink down at him, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in a silent “what the fuck are you doing?”

He just smirks and runs his hands up the back of your thighs, groping your butt and nuzzling into the juncture of your hip.

Through the roar in your ears you can hear your girlfriends squeal behind you, but before you can react, Hoseok is standing and pressing his weight into your back, hands digging into your hips. He pulls your bodies flush and grinds his hips to the beat, moving one hand to wrap around your jaw. Forcing your head against his shoulder, he licks at the shell of your ear, and blood rushes to your face as you squeeze your eyes shut, clutching his wrist.

“Hoseok,” you whisper, voice laced with warning, and he hums in your ear.

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, hips still moving against yours.

“Did you forget we have an audience?” You hiss, refusing to look anywhere but at a fixed spot on the ceiling.

His chuckle vibrates against your shoulder blades before he spins you around just as the music fades, his hand firmly pressed on the small of your back.

“Of course not.”

His dark eyes sear into yours, a devilish smirk playing across his lips, and if you weren’t so flustered, you would smack him.

“Oh yeah, we definitely lost,” you hear your best friend breathe, as you clutch Hoseok’s biceps, heart hammering in your chest.

Almost immediately the glint in his eye disappears, and his face melts into that wide trademark smile, eyes crinkling as he loosens his hold on you.

“Looks like we got a free meal, boys,” he calls, prompting a rather insulting cacophony of joyous shouts in response. Leaning down, he catches your lips in a quick kiss, grinning cheekily at your red face.

“I love you.”

“Holy shit, you two, get a room,” Jungkook grunts in annoyance as he passes. You hide your flush with a scoff, pushing away from Hoseok.

He laughs, turning to follow Jungkook, and you hang back for a moment to cool your cheeks on the backs of your hands. Feeling a presence by your side, you turn to find your best friend holding out your bag with a knowing grin.

“What?” You groan, grabbing your belongings and falling into step with her as you walk out of the studio.

“Nothing,” she says simply, earning herself a bruising punch on the arm.

30 minutes later, you are sitting next to Hoseok in a ramen shop amidst the buzz of your friends when you feel his hand drop heavily to your thigh. Dangerously close to the hem of your shorts, his fingers massage your flesh firmly, and you bite your lip, stealing a glance at his bright expression. The contrast makes you shiver.

And when his lips pressed against your ear, you nearly gasp aloud.

“Cancel practice tomorrow. You won’t be able to get out of bed.”

You barely pass over the threshold and discard your bag and shoes before Hoseok slings you over his shoulder, kicking the door to your shared apartment shut with a frame-rattling bang. You yelp in surprise and clutch at the back of his shirt as he carries you straight into the bedroom, depositing you unceremoniously on the bed. You bounce on the mattress, sitting up and brushing your hair out of your face. He towers over you with his arms crossed, the glint back in his eye and a dark smirk plastered on his face.

“Now that I have the chance to ask,” he begins, eyeing you down, “what the hell was that?”

You let out a loud scoff and cross your arms and legs, half-mirroring his stance. “I don’t think you have the right to ask that question,” you shoot back.

He shrugs. “I was just returning the favor.”

“By dry humping me in front of all of our friends?” You ask through an incredulous laugh.

“I was just dancing.”

“Oh please.” You roll your eyes and lean back on your hands. “That’s your favorite way to fuck me.”

Hoseok throws his head back and laughs loudly. “Maybe…” He drops his arms and steps forward, running his hands over your thighs. “But they don’t know that.”

You roll your eyes again, even as your core twitches involuntarily at his touch. “I’m sure they do now,” you grumble under your breath.

He chuckles, gently uncrossing your legs and leaning down so his lips graze yours. “Good,” he mutters before crashing forward and pushing you into the mattress.

You gasp, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, making you sigh and briefly debate whether or not to challenge him. A quick test of the waters and a sharp nip to your lip later, you let out a soft whimper, lowering your guard and allowing him to take complete control.

His mouth trails across your jaw and down to your neck, taking your skin between his teeth. A moan slips out when his hand dips beneath your shirt, cool fingers sending shivers down your spine. Pushing the fabric over your ribs, he dives down and leaves open mouthed kisses across your stomach, dipping his tongue into your navel before dragging it up the center of your torso. Pulling back, he yanks his shirt off, and you gaze up at him with hooded eyes, biting your lip as you raked them over his lean form.

Smirking, he reaches out and nearly rips your shirt off your body before making quick work of your sports bra, swearing only slightly when the tight fabric catches around your arms.

“Smooth,” you comment with an airy laugh as he tosses it to the side.

“Fucking hate those,” he growls, descending on your lips once again to suck the air out of your lungs.

His hand trails over your skin, and you whimper when he runs a fingertip softly over your nipple, breaking away from him with a moan. Endless nights of exploration have enlightened him to the ways your body responds to his touch, and by far his favorite is the way you completely lose control at the lightest and most gentle caresses to your chest.

“Hobi,” you sigh, feeling the heat pool between your legs as he rolls your nipple slowly between his thumb and forefinger.

He hums and kisses his way down your sternum, peppering the flesh of your breasts with flicks of his tongue and soft nips of his teeth. Your back arches when he closes his mouth over a sensitive bud, tongue moving in mind numbing circles, his hand never leaving your other breast.

Desire burns in your core, and you rub your legs together, hissing as your shorts tug against your arousal. You let out a needy moan and give his shoulder a light push, trying to get the message across.

His chuckle against your chest makes you bite your lip. “Alright, alright,” he chides, pressing a soft kiss to each of your nipples before locking eyes with you and dragging his tongue down your body to the hem of your shorts.

Your breath hitches as he runs his fingers over the ticklish space just below your stomach. Eyelids fluttering, you watch him grip your shorts and tug them, along with your underwear, off your hips.

Staring between your legs, he bites his lip and runs a finger between your soaked folds, making you whimper.

“Damn, babygirl,” he mutters, licking your slick off his digit. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You kick him in the arm none-too-lightly with the side of your foot, and he grins as he dives in, dragging his tongue up the length of your slit. He swallows down your arousal and gives your clit a harsh suck before pulling back in time to watch you let out a moan that twists your face in a way that makes his dick twitch noticeably in his sweats.

Licking his lips, he gazes down at you, holding you steady under the heat of his eyes. Then something registers in his face, and he suddenly pulls you up and off the bed. You shoot him a curious look as he takes your place with his head towards the foot of the bed.

“C’mere,” he says, motioning at you lazily with two fingers.

You comply and allow him to manhandle your legs until you are straddling his stomach. His hands run up your thighs, thumbs massaging circles into the junctures of your hips, before one hand grazes over your stomach, up to your chest, then back down. You yelp when he presses into your clit without warning, rubbing slow circles that have you rocking your hips against his abs as you brace yourself on his chest in a way that pushes your breasts together obscenely.

“Damn, what a view,” he remarks, and you can’t hide your flush at his downright predatory grin. With a slight cock of his head, his smile grows wider. “Look up, babygirl.”

You gasp audibly when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror that stretches the length of the bedroom wall, hair mussed, cheeks pink, and eyes hazy with need. He chuckles at your reaction and nudges you up his body until you are hovering over his face. With a touch of uncertainty, you glance down at him, but he just strokes your thigh soothingly.

“Don’t look so stressed. I got it.”

“But Hobi–“

“Just keep yourself up,” he cuts in, a slight edge to his voice.

You swallow and nod, resting your hands backwards on your waist as he shifts your thighs further apart until his nose is touching just above your slit. His breath on your wetness makes you shudder, and you aren’t prepared for the way he darts his tongue into your entrance, gathering your arousal before swiping his way up to your clit and circling it with your juices.

Your stomach clenches and you almost fall forward off the edge of the bed. You have to fight to stay upright as he repeats his actions twice more, leaving you a moaning mess above him.

“Goddamn, you taste so fucking good,” he groans, moving his hands to your ass and massaging the flesh.

You whimper, hands dropping to curl in his hair. His tongue slips over your lips and he nibbles on the flesh, making you keen. It’s almost painful the way he flicks between your folds, dipping into your entrance and kissing everywhere except where you need him. When his fingers come up to spread you so he can drag his tongue flat over your core only to stop just short of your clit, you cry out.

“Fu-uck, please,” you pant, legs shaking furiously, and you desperately want something in front of you to hold yourself up. “Hobi–“ your breath catches your throat when he slips a finger inside you, curling it at just the right angle to have you dropping down an inch.

Almost immediately he removes his hand and stares up at you with raised eyebrows. You protest at the loss of contact, but he merely pinches the back of your thigh firmly. “You better not suffocate me if you wanna come.”

You look down at him, forcing away your frustration, and nod, catching your lip between your teeth as you shift back up. Fighting away the burn in your legs, you fix your gaze on the apex of your thighs in the mirror. With a hum of approval, he pushes two fingers into your folds, and you let out a cry, flexing your stomach as you force yourself to stay upright.

He pumps his fingers at a rapid pace, drawing your clit into his mouth and sucking relentlessly. Moans fall freely from your lips as the coil of heat deep in your core grows to an unbearable ache.

“Hobi, fuck, I’m gonna–“

But just as you prepare to ride out the waves of your release, he drops his hand, and you tumble backwards down the mountain of pleasure. You gasp in frustration, looking down at him helplessly.

“Why,” you whimper, barely refraining from smacking his head and pulling some of his hair out.

He tilts his head to look at you, fingers tracing your thigh and dragging your wetness over your skin. Without responding, he holds your weakening gaze and presses kiss after kiss to your clit, making you pant through short shocks of pleasure. Core clenching around nothing, you run a quivering hand through your dampening hair as your heart pounds and your thighs scream.

“H-Hobi,” you say, voice audibly shaking.

“Yes, babygirl?” You can feel his breath, hot against your inner thigh.

“I n-need to hold o-onto something,” you breathe, the burn in your legs bordering on nauseating.

“You need it?” He inquires, and you let out a whimper of affirmation. “And I need a new sound system for the studio, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

His retort has you whining in protest, but you are cut off by his tongue once again licking into your folds, and your mind flatlines as you fight against the cry of your muscles. His tongue draws figure eights along your entrance, and you can’t help but rock your hips across his face, whimpering every time his nose brushes near your clit.

“Fuck,” you moan, long and drawn out, when he moves north and abuses your nub with quick flicks, pace increasing and decreasing randomly. The pace of your hips quickens, and you bury your hands in his hair, eyes fixed almost unseeingly on your reflection.

He grunts into your folds, and the vibrations sending your eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure builds for a second time. Tightening your grip on his locks, your moans grow louder and more earnest as you chase your high, rutting your core onto his tongue.

But just as you begin to tip, he draws back, and this time you crash down from your almost-climax, slumping forward until you are precariously supporting yourself on the edge of the bed with a shameless whine.

“Hobi!” You wail, shudders wracking your body.

“I’m here,” he shoots back, almost mockingly, but you are too far gone and desperate to attack him with any of the hefty handful of comebacks you have stored away in that special compartment of your brain.

“Look at yourself,” he mutters against your skin, and you force your eyes back on your reflection, taking in how your stomach clenches and your thighs shake around his head. Your eyes look completely gone, and the image makes you dizzy. “You look so fucking gorgeous like this, do you really think I’m just gonna let you come?”

You can only whimper, eyes squeezing shut. “Please, Hobi, please,” you beg, trying to push yourself into his face.

A harsh smack bounces off the walls as his palm comes into contact with your ass, making you cry out loudly. “Nuh-uh,” he growls, gripping your flesh, “Stay. Up.”

Gathering yourself, you try to steady your breathing. “Hobi…”

“Hm?” His tongue licks a stripe over one of your outer lips, and your head spins.

“Hobi, I s-swear to god, I really will suffocate you i-if you don’t let me h-hold onto something.”

You feel his huff of silent laughter against your clit. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m warning you–“ you break off with a cry as he latches onto the sensitive nub and sends stars across your vision.

Your thighs begin to give out as you grind your hips into his tongue, one hand tangling in your hair, the other grasping at your breasts, desperate to hold onto something, anything. As his tongue continues its onslaught, your stomach tightens. Your breath catches in your throat as you lose control, letting your full weight fall on his face as you chase your high.

Another sharp slap lands against your hip, ripping you from your haze as the pressure disappears, and you sob as the pleasure ebbs to a dull throb, core clenching violently. You quickly shift to the side when he gives you another smack, revealing his highly unamused expression boring into you as he catches his breath.

Equally winded, you fall against the sheets with a broken moan, legs screaming in painful relief. “I warned you.”

In a split second, his sweats and briefs are on the floor. You whimper as he yanks you back onto quivering knees and spins you to face the mirror, forcing your chin up so you can see him hovering behind you. His tongue runs up the side of your neck until he is sucking at the spot behind your ear, making you keen. Taking your lobe into his mouth, he rolls the flesh between his teeth.

“You really want to come that bad?” His grip on your hip tightens.

“Please,” you moan out, fingers bent around his forearm, thighs shaking. There is no way you will be able to keep yourself upright.

He chuckles into your ear, smoothing his palm over your quivering thighs. “I got you,” he whispers before hooking his arm firmly around your waist, supporting you.

Dropping his hand from your chin, he reaches down to dip into your entrance, feeling your wetness between his fingers. He lets out a groan, and you are suddenly aware of his hardened cock pressing into your ass. Normally, you would have given your hips an experimental wiggle, but the cloud in your mind is heavy, and your limbs are too strung out to do anything but submit. Instead, you let your head fall forward, panting as he drags his finger between your folds, circling your clit lightly.

But then his hand is gone, and you cry out. “Fuck. You. Hoseok,” you sob, flinging your head back and digging it into his shoulder, doing your best to glare at his reflection.

“That’s more like it,” he hums, before latching onto your neck and sucking a hickey into the soft skin. His hand dives back down, barely grazing your clit before plunging two fingers into your wetness.

You clench around the digits, moaning when he curls them into your walls. The arm around your waist shifts, and you feel pressure on your nipple as he rolls the bud gently between his fingertips the way you liked it, the way that has your breath leaving you in needy whimpers. The sensation is intense, but it is not enough, and you whine.

“Hm? What is it? What do you want?” His voice is low, taunting.

You can’t formulate a response, eyes rolling back as he removes his fingers to rub tight circles over your clit. A loud moan fills the room as you buck your hips into his hand.

“You want my cock, babygirl?” He breathes, nuzzling into your ear. “Want me to finally fuck you?”

You nod violently against his shoulder, digging your nails into his arm.

“Please.”

With a growl, he grips your hips and guides you down onto his cock in one swift motion, groaning into your ear when his hips meet your ass. The sound you let out is a mixture of satisfaction and discomfort as he stretches you, and you clench around him, making him hiss.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, and you can feel him swallow as he nuzzles into your neck.

“Hobi…” Your voice is ragged, and you meet his eyes in the mirror so he can see the unfiltered need in your own, mustering just enough coherency to push your hips back against his.

He draws back in response before snapping forward roughly, and you let out a long, drawn out moan as he starts a relentless pace. The arm around your waist tightens so he can bounce you on his cock, while his other hand roams your body, slipping over your curves.

“Shit, Hobi,” you gasp and reach up to thread your fingers in his hair, eliciting a pleasured groan from his lips as they find purchase on your shoulder.

Your eyes glaze over as you watch the scene in the mirror, barely recognizing the flushed and completely fucked out person staring back at you. Hair plastered to your forehead, crimson marks painting your neck and shoulders, body trembling from the force of Hoseok’s thrusts, you can only gaze at the image and whimper loudly, eyes inevitably falling shut.

For what feels like the millionth time, the pleasure begins to peak, and your voice cracks with the telltale sign that you are close, his grunts in your ear spurring you on.

“You close?” He growls.

“Yes,” you choke out, tightening your grip in his hair. But then his hips slow a fraction, and your eyes snap open. “No, fuck, god, please, don’t stop, I’m going to kill you,” you sob, voice broken and slurred, your entire body vibrating with the need to find your release.

Grunting, he suddenly pushes you forward until your ear is against the mattress. With your ass in the air, he resumes his punishing pace, his hand traveling up your back to find purchase in your hair and press your head further into the sheets.

The fabric muffles your cries as the new angle allows him to hit the sensitive spot within you, each thrust leaving you breathless and begging as your nails dig into your palms.

“Please, please, please,” you chant, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes as your cheek ruts against the mattress.

Hoseok growls above you, landing a sharp, but not painful, slap on your ass. “Words, babygirl,” he pants, voice low and gravelly.

You can barely form a coherent thought, but you manage to force the words out of your ruined lips. “Please,” you breathe, “please make me come.”

“Good girl.”

You barely registered the pleased smirk on his face in the mirror before his hand is snaking around you and locating your clit.

It is barely ten seconds before you are crashing headlong into your orgasm, convulsing around his cock with a broken moan. The pleasure blinds you, flooding your limbs, and you clutch at the sheet, knuckles white and legs shaking violently. He continues to thrust into you as your body goes limp, chasing his own high, and you sob at the stimulation, prompting him to pull out and finish himself on your back with a strangled groan. You whimper as his release hits your skin, a shiver running up your spine.

Stars dance behind your closed lids as you try to catch your breath, too spent to even pull your legs out from under yourself, though they scream at you. But you feel a palm run soothingly over the side of your thigh, and you let Hoseok stretch you out until you are flat on your stomach, relief surging through your muscles.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and you feel his lips press into to the back of your thigh before his weight lifts off the bed.

You are slowly slipping into unconsciousness when a damp cloth runs over your back. Opening your eyes, you see Hoseok toss the cloth into the hamper before returning to help you roll onto your back. He fixes you with a smile and falls with a thud next to you, shifting so he can hover and press several kisses to your lips. You sigh, wanting to reach up and touch his face, but your arms refuse to cooperate.

“You ok?” He inquires, cradling you against him, trailing a hand up and down your limp arm.

You exhale heavily, eyes flitting shut. “I can’t move.”

He smirks against your shoulder. “I’m sorry…I warned you,” he murmurs, and you roll your eyes behind closed lids.

“Shut up,” you retort, mind slowly starting to clear. Opening your eyes, you come face to face with his huge, cheeky grin, and you can’t fight the weak “fuck you” that leaves your lips. But that just makes his smile grow, and he captures your lips once more before moving to locate his briefs.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, pulling the fabric up his honeyed thighs, and even though you are completely spent, the image still sends a jolt between your legs.

“Not gonna lie, Hobi, I’m not much of anything right now,” you reply in complete deadpan, and he laughs loudly.

“Well, I’m hungry. Do you want me to stay with you?” His question comes with a serious crinkle of his forehead, and you manage to shake your head.

“No, do what you want,” you mutter, closing your eyes once again. You really just want to sleep, even if you knock out completely exposed on top of the comforter.

“Ok.” Hoseok chuckles. “Find me when you can move again?”

You hum, peeking at him through your heavy lids.

His smile paints his face once again, and he pulls his sweats on before bending to cradle your face between his palms, pressing gentle kisses across your face until he reaches your lips, lingering there for a long moment.

“I love you,” he whispers against your mouth, and your own smile tugs at your eyes.

“I love you, too,” you whisper back, and you swear he radiates sunshine as he pecks your forehead and prances out of the room.

A split second later, you hear him belting out a terrible rendition of something you’re sure is a Top 40s track you didn’t recognize as he shuffles around the kitchen.

Letting his chirping voice wash over your lead-like body, you stare up at the ceiling with a weak incredulity, forever unable to process how the man-child outside the room is the same man who can leave you wrecked and unable to move on your own bed.

It is truly the contradiction of the century.

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

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The Lost Boys Finding Out Their Fem!S/O is Pregnant [2/4]

Oof this one was tricky. I'm currently working on Dwayne's which is nearly finished, then lastly Paul. It's definitely hard mixing in the feelings that come with a young pregnancy. I actually got pregnant with my daughter Raven at 19 (she's now almost 3 and I'm married to her dad) so it's a bit easier to tap into those conflicting feelings of joy and panic. It's just morphing it to fit the boys that's a challenge. Anyway enough about me, please enjoy as we move on to:

MARKO

It was just supposed to be a quick check, a way to reassure you that it was just paranoia. Your period was a little late, no biggie!

Until it was.

Now here you were, wedged in your own little cave courtesy of the boys, grasping a plastic strip with abject horror. Pink never seemed so ominous, but that tiny plus mark just sent your world into chaos. For a moment you swore you had an out of body experience, and in a panic you chuck it onto your bed and stand up as if it were a bomb ready to blow. What now? What was this, some sort of cosmic punishment? Those nights you spent luring unexpecting men for your lover, Marko, to devour were coming back in a wave of karma. A ba- you didn't dare think the word!

How was it even possible? You were a virgin when you and Marko got together, he was the only one to ever be intimate with you. There was no denying the father… but the reality of it scared you. What could that mean? What would happen to you? How would you raise it, was it even going to be human? Or half vampire? Were there even any vampire babies?!

You gripped the sides of your head, on the verge of a panic attack. Were the walls getting closer? A rush of claustrophobia just hit you all at once. All these questions nearly made you spin, and mistakenly you lean on your bedside table. The uneven weight flipped it, wine bottle candelabras smashing onto the cave floors alerting the two remaining vamps, Dwayne and Paul. Marko had left with David to pick up dinner, last thing they knew was you went to take a nap.

"Y/N," Paul called out, waiting for a response. A few minutes was all he needed to get up, only causing you more panic when the crunching of his boots grew louder. In a regrettable move you snatched your jacket and bolted out of your room, shoulder tapping Paul in a blind mad dash for the exit. He called out in confusion, trying to follow you as you weaved through old wooden beams. Dwayne was next to stand in your way, grabbing the crook of your upper arm by your elbow.

"Hey, hey, whoa, whoa Y/N, what's wrong? Where are you going?"

You couldn't find the words, but the walls continued to cave in on you. Paul managed to weave his way back and you could only blurt out an apology before jumping over the fountain and out the door. The old wooden stairs rapidly creaked, waves rolling over the unstable platforms. You could still hear them trying to catch you. Dipping into the woods alongside the shoreline you waited until they went the wrong way. Out of sight, you returned to the uneven dirt and ran alongside the road barefoot. You didn't know where you were going, you didn't know why you were running, but your body was in an absolute fight or flight mode. The rumbling of motorcycles encroached upon you, mistakenly assuming it was the dynamic duo coming to retrieve you. Instead from the approaching end you could see headlights hitting you.

You had to give credit to vampires, they didn't miss a thing. The skeletal machine stalled in a shuddered halt that kicked up a cloud gravel just passed her. There he was, sitting atop his humming motorcycle pushing out a flurry of blonde curls. Marko, completely taken aback to find you barefoot sprinting down a dark road like your life depended on it. You knew better than to be out here alone. If their eyes weren't able to pick you out so easily in the dark, you could've been hit!

"Babygirl? Hey, what are you doing out here? Where are you going," Marko questioned, a look of utter confusion across his face. He could hear your heart racing, the blood pumping so fast. Why were you so scared?

With a swing of his leg he dismounted, but you couldn't face him. "I-I just have to go, Marko, I-I'm so sorry babe," you stutter, clutching your jacket tightly against your body.

"What? What are you talking about?" Marko tried to approach, even David was confused by this point. Sure they weren't exactly as cuddly as bunnies, but the way you worshiped Marko was undeniable. Always on his arm, whispering secrets to each other that would result in a burst of snickers, sharing boardwalk treats while gushing over rides, tagging along wherever they went.. honestly, the first few months of it he found nauseating. A little human pet fawning over her new boyfriend. But even after you learned their true nature it didn't phase you. It took over a year and a half to show him you weren't leaving, and they'd come to accept you into their coven. Hell, you'd become an assert, drawing in unsuspecting Santa Carla citizens to their den for an ambush whenever they were too lazy to hunt.

Your face contorted into a mass of expressions, Marko's own furrowed brow morphed into genuine hurt when you took a step back the closer he got. "I'm sorry… Marko, I'm so so sorry."

This time didn't get very far when you ran. He didn't even bother with his bike, flying ahead of you and catching you in his arms. You tried to squirm, but it was like a mouse in the grips of a tiger. "Babygirl, hey! Stop, stop, hang on stop!"

Your head was pressed against him, he wouldn't let go. "Please, baby. Please stop." The tremble in his voice made your stomach twist into knots, and you couldn't help but cling to him. Just endless sobbing apologies, burying yourself in his shirt taking in that comforting scent you lived for. Fear overwhelmed you. You didn't to leave, you weren't even trying to go anywhere. But what would happen if he knew? Would Marko stay…?

You both just stood there wrapped around one another, and finally the words left your mouth. It didn't even sound like you. You wondered if he would even hear it.

"Marko… I'm pregnant.."

For a moment Marko swore his heart beat, a split second of life that felt like his ribs were being crushed. The words rattled him, lifting your chin you looked up at him. This time his confusion wasn't hurt, just… in awe. He would let out these little breathless laughs, rapid blinking with hands cupping your cheeks while he struggled to find the right words. "You're… but I never though I coul-.. are you really- really..?"

Your soft nod filled him with warmth. That's all it took. What else could he do but practically swing you in his arms, burying you neck in a wave of kisses. The thought was scary of course. But more than that, he just felt such otherworldly joy. You were carrying his baby, a part of him was growing inside you. Once he set you down, he kissed you so deeply you nearly melted in his grasp. "That's… i-incredible, babygirl I can't even believe it," he breathlessly exclaimed, his forehead resting on yours. Those fears rushing through you were silenced the moment he held you, tears morphing into ones of joy. You couldn't help but laugh, giggling as you kissed him again and again. Guess you owed the boys an explanation, but knowing how happy Marko was, you weren't afraid to say those words anymore

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heroofpenamstan · 4 years

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WIP DAY: #6

Tagged by @nightwingshero, @shallow-gravy, and @sharky-broshaw! Thanks, guys! x

Unfortunately, the only thing I have in the works is a crack ( big emphasis on crack—I am being held at gun point. Send help. There’s blackmail involved. It’s been a week. ) smut oneshot attempt for these three cowards whom I tag to present their own WIPs: @faithchel ( Stella, get started on your own prompt, love; a deal’s a deal. 😘 ), @abosaa, @risenlucifer. Also, @ariestals, @strafethesesinners, @chyrstis, @deputyrhiannonhale, @teamhawkeye, @mackie-hattwie, @spicevalleys if you want to share a WIP as well! 💖

So, without further ado, kiddies, scram! ( Bad ) semi-smut under the cut! x

6. I don’t want love.—joanne burton + michael s. hughes; ( unedited. we die like men. ) snippet. Pretty lousy and some bits missing, not gonna lie, but I really need the writing practice since I’m rusty as all hell, so—

It's 4AM, and her lip is split at the corner.

Joanne taps her bloodied tissue to the gushing wound gently, repeatedly, until the red splotches shrink into a minor sting. She breathes in the fresh Montana air, the rotten tree bark, the sprouting flowers, and the heavy cigarette smoke rising from beside her standing form.

"Look, darlin', it ain't your fault, alright?"

But it is, and Joanne's damaged lip quivers.

It was supposed to be an easy enough assignment: a track down of one of John Seed's reaping trucks containing hostages of various degrees of resistance. And, don't get her wrong, it was going fine, up until the bullets ran out and Michael wasn't near enough and the back of a rifle collided with her face—and then—fire and screaming and—

"I had the blowtorch," Joanne croaks out, her right leg wobbling uncontrollably. There's soot on her shirt and blood on her sizzled jacket, barely shielding her slight frame from the early morning mist. "I could of been—faster and,—God." it's as if a ball is lodged in her esophagus; suffocating and choking and—

A reassuring hand lands on the back of her knee, causing Jo to jerk out of her reverie at the sudden contact.

She looks down at him, at Michael; at his disheveled hair and burnt up shearling jacket, at the scrap of his knee through his torn, dark jeans. He looks just as worse for wear as she, if the flicker of light shielded by his palm for the third time that night is anything to go by.

He takes a moment to release a slow, heavy exhale, and Joanne is left to admire the cloud of smoke dissolving in the air in front of her. Just as fast as it disappeared, the warmth of Mike's hand returns to rest on her leg that still shakes with the images of burning bodies and hollowed cheeks.

"The truck was already riddled with bullets at the gas tank. There's really nothin' more you could have done, dollface—nor I, for that matter, anyway." Michael coughs at a particular long drag of his cigarette, making Jo crack the smallest of smirks at her partner's expense. His green eyes find the small curl of bloodied lips, and for that, his own face morphs into a soft expression.

And yet, Joanne turns her head away from him.

He can see the slight shake of her shoulders, the way she tilts her head; contorts her face away from his unwavering gaze.

"Hey, hey," Michael's low voice tears through the sheet of silence as long fingers curl firmly about her leg. Joanne braves a tiny glance at him, and the concerned expression he wears breaks the dam, causing the unshed tears to stream down her face—finally.

"Oh, Jo," Michael mumbles, sympathy coloring his mouth as he tosses his neglected cigarette in favor of Joanne's hand. "C'mere, girl."

Joanne doesn't resist the pull as Michael drags her folded body to his propped form. His hand is in her braids now, grazing at her cheek and her shoulder as she digs her chin into his collar. He smells of aftershave and sandalwood, but Jo can still pick up the traces of the tragedy Michael had dragged her away from only an hour ago; ashy and burnt. His fingers knead her tense neck, mouth at the crown of her hair as he whispers soothing words and low promises.

This is nice, Jo lets herself think, placing her palm on Michael’s ribs, listening to the quick, quick, confident beat of his heart, basking in the warmth his body emits. He was always there to comfort her like this, in the only way he knows how to, and Joanne is grateful for it.

"I know it's—it's not my fault, but," Joanne's quiet voice is muffled, filtered through Mike's henley shirt as he takes to each and every word dutifully, finger pad tracing the texture of her braid. "There's gonna be a next time, Mike. You know this as well as I do. What if even more people die that I'm assigned to save? Just the thought of going back to Dutch and telling him what happened makes me wanna puke—this whole fucking situation is just too much!"

Joanne jerks her head from Michael's chest to get a better look at his downcast face, her cheeks flushed from the burning rage and despair that bubbles beneath the surface of her dark skin. Michael's right hand travels to Jo's exposed calf, tracing small circles along her smooth skin. He feels Jo's muscles there relax, loosen, and melt at his comforting touch.

She shifts her knee so her leg could wrap around his idly, and Michael's ministrations suddenly cease.

"You don't have to go back to Dutch's until you're ready, Annie," his voice, lilting and pleasant to the ear, has never sounded more serious to Joanne. She stares at him with dark, glassy eyes, and he returns her gaze with an intensity only few had ever seen before. Joanne gulps as Michael hooks her knee across his leg, draping her over his left thigh with little to no effort.

Joanne, in turn, wraps her tattooed arms around his neck, grazing her wrists across the hijacked car door Mike leans upon. There's a semblance of a knot untying in her belly, and Jo can only sigh as her body relaxes against his, nerves depleting, shoulders dropping.

"Thanks, Mickey," Joanne whispers into his chestnut strands, plush, bruised lips ghosting against his neck, and Michael closes his eyes.

"You're very welcome, doll," he manages out, hoping Jo won't notice the slight hitch to his voice as she scoots closer to his frame, shifting and tugging at his shoulders. After a slight pause, his arms coil around her tiny waist as he drags her towards him entirely, molding them flush together.

There's a danger to this sort of embrace, Mike knows; the way he can feel every curve of Jo's body against his through the flimsy top she dons, the way the heels of her feet dig into the ground on either sides of him, riding her up to press herself completely against him, and if she moves her hips one more time, Michael is pretty sure he'll—

"If you think that means I'll do your laundry for you, you have another thing coming."

Suddenly, Joanne's face is in his, eyes dry and split lip grinning, and Michael feels himself ache for her. His mouth breaks into a smirk, not quite easy, not as bright, but it'll do, he thinks.

"Wouldn't dream of it, dollface. I'd much rather you watch me do the Bend and Snap; might even entice ya—who knows."

Jo snorts, her nose wrinkling at Mike's words; but the only thing he can focus on is her fingers tracing lazy patterns across his back and—he starts to wonder how she would feel like bare against him.

God, fuck.

"I didn't peg you as the type to know Legally Blonde by heart," Joanne jests, soft laughter fanning his cheek. Mike graces her with a grin of his own as his imposing hands trail against her lithe form, observant eyes taking in the way Jo's lids flutter lightly, long lashes fanning her cheekbones, fingers fisting the grey material of his shirt.

"Yeah, well," Michael says, tone lowering, voice deepening as he rests his forehead against her bruised brow. "Gotta learn some legal shit to compete with John boy somehow."

Her resounding laughter makes his face shift, and, suddenly, he feels her mouth at the corner of his.

They both freeze, for a second—a minute—; Jo pulls back to look at him, to drink him in; the dark greens of his hues, the restrained set of his jaw, the feeling of his fingers digging into her waist—

The kiss Jo plants upon his mouth is searing, and his hands are relentless in their need to uncover more of her soft skin. Michael feels the familiar buzzing and tingling of nerves, the taste of blood and chapstick and Jo coloring his mouth as he tugs on her hair, relishing in the feel of her arching against him, grinding against him.

She moans, then, as Michael’s large, calloused hand travels across her stomach, her ribs, the swell of her breast. The way he molds and teases and sucks at her bruised lips, his fingers dancing across her waist and grazing at her nipple is carefully practiced, nearly calculated, she knows, and regrets not kissing him sooner, when she was desperate for release and craving another’s touch.

#wip day #this is pure crack #do not engage #dove does not know how to write smut at ALL #sorry for this mess folks #deputy joanne burton #michael s. hughes #duo: dumb & dumber #my stuff #My writing

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thewhumpstuff · 4 years

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You and I, Me and You [6]

@badthingshappenbingo [Original characters and content for category - Flashbacks] [Warning: NSFW implications] [Teaser and Master List] [Archives of our Own] (You and I, Me and you: Chapter 7)

[<– Previous] ~ [Next –>]

Dark pillow talk.

The freedom of her upper limbs came at the price. A few more crimson scratches against the raw, twine-irritated skin. The torment of rolling around on her knees as her back contorted awkwardly to accomplish the task within the given limitations. But success felt heavenly. Her arms snapped away from one another when the twine finally came undone. With a manic urgency, she plucked off the blindfold. The cloth wrapped around her eyes had never curtailed her breathing, but getting rid of it left her panting with relief.

The only source of illumination was soft and painfully consistent, it crawled in from under the metal door to shatter against the broken glass and to lick at her feet. That felt like a gift for now. For some time, her freed arms and restored vision tasted like a small victory. For some time, she remained still and poised, clinging to the piece of glass with a fervent hope. Then, the seconds and minutes began chafing at her resolve. Slowly but surely. The fluidity of time was not assessable. Staring at a piece of wall was not conducive to keeping track of the hours.

There was not so much as a scuffle outside. She felt forgotten. First, she dropped the glass, then she got fidgety. Two ritualistic, alternating motions. She craned her neck to flatten her cheek against the wall, right side… then left, her vision oscillating between the corner… and the dark despair of the room. And the painstaking transfer of her weight, from her knees to her haunches. This went on long enough to leave her neck and shoulder muscles begging for mercy and her leg muscles twitching with the strain.

As her resolve slowly melted, fear eagerly took its place. The exchanges with Jared had left her mind steeping in the past. It felt like a deliberate concoction. And now he had left her alone to brew. She could not fight the thoughts as they gathered and strategically battered against the flimsy walls of her brain. She followed the string of memories, brought to the surface by a slightly broken voice echoing in the room… It was her own, it sounded angelic somehow. She closed her eyes in surrender. “♩“…Am I out of my head Am I out of my mind...”♩ ~~~ ♩"…If you only knew the bad things I like…"♩ She grinned up at him as she sang along with the song he played. It was the one from the party, before they were interrupted. It sure felt appropriate. They’d consummated their relationship already, on multiple occasions, but the air today, felt differently charged. She used her elbows to slide backwards onto his bed, till her head found his pillow. He crawled over her on his elbows and knees, watching her protectively. She loved that he was concerned, but she felt the pressing need to prove that she was stronger than he thought.

His lips found the scar he had left on her neck, his tongue flicked across it, tenderly. “Bite me.” ♫…Don't think that I can explain it… ♫ He obliged, sucking her skin into his mouth, he teased it with his teeth. “Harder.” ♫…What can I say, it's complicated…♫ Curiosity and hesitance danced in his mind as his jaw tightened. A soft gasp morphed into a softer mewl. He let go. The scar had a perfect row of teeth-marks above and below it. He stared at it, it left him disconcerted. He looked at her. She looked incandescent, excited… ecstatic and bold. All the good things. As he tentatively nipped at her arm, sedulous about the force. She suddenly let out a cry of mock anguish. He snapped away from her. “Did I hur-” Her snicker, interrupted him. Something about her soft cackle sent a chill down his spine. “Of course, you did! But I liked it.” The cuffs dug into her as she stretched her arms instinctively, she felt like pulling him into an embrace. Aki made do with her legs instead, wrapping them around his hips to draw him back to her. “Fuck, Shira.” He chastised through grit teeth. It only made her laugh some more. “What? I like scaring people a little.” She beamed up at him with faux innocence. He shook his head and half-smiled, nervously stifling his unease, as he lowered himself against her again.

♫…Nothing's that bad If it feels good So you come back Like I knew you would… ♫ She nuzzled into his neck, leaving a small bite-mark of her own. She could feel his eyelashes against her shoulders, he did not even wince. Something about that left her feeling challenged. She picked another spot and bit a little harder. He closed his eyes and tensed but did not flinch. He let her finish, he even let her scan her handiwork as he propped himself on his elbows, his face looming over hers. The disquietude found words. “You like… hurting people too?” She tensed. His question sounded impassive, but she felt judged, nonetheless. “Sorry.” “No… It is ok. I’m fine.” That was not a very convincing reassurance. She gnawed at her lower lip. Feeling a certain surge of insecurities, she sought to assuage them by hoping this was a shared trait.

Her voice carried with it a note of dread, and of anticipation. “Too? Do you?” “No, not really… I mean… Do you like scaring and hurting too?” “I…” Her face was like a play. Emotions battling desires, battling her morals.

He placed his fingers on her lips and wore a brighter smile. Jared had no intentions of creating turmoil within her, not today… not after everything. They needed each other. “Shh…” She kissed his fingers, her tongue now flicking across the scar she had left. “Am I a bad person?” Depends, he thought. But ardently shook his head. He reached over to his bedside drawer. With a press of a button the collar and the cuffs clicked open. He whisked them off the bed. They found amusement in the way the fell, symbolic of their own inhibitions. They laughed. The moment her wrists were free, her hands worked on the buttons of his shirt. His hands made quick work of her little black dress with the classic ripping sound. Her motion, inspired by his urgency, left buttons scattered around them as she held the collar and tugged it apart. Fabric rustled, bared passion and bared bodies followed. - Later that night, the empty cups of tea sat huddled on the bedside drawer. The silence between them embraced a very different song. ♫…Love of mine, someday you will die… ♫ It crooned the spooning couple; she sang along in a low octave. He joined in. They could feel the vibrations through the contact between his chest and her back. ♩…“But I'll be close behind and I'll follow you into the dark”… ♩ “Will you?” Her fingers were entwined with his, she gave a little squeeze to emphasize her question, which followed the song. Will you, follow me into the dark?. “I’ll be there before you, so you’ll be the one following!” He chided, pulling her closer. They breathed in sync and inhaled deeply. Satisfied sighs mingled. She elbowed him gently, with a small click of her tongue. “Always the hero.”

Jared wasn’t the insecure sort, but revelations today had left him perturbed and he knew she would eventually have to go away. So, today he too, wanted to ask. “Will you?” She pulled her hair to the side as she twisted to look at him. She didn't think of darkness as death. She saw it something to explore and something to challenge. And something that Jared had already encountered and won against. “I kinda am, already… Aren’t I? But my darkness, my turn!” He much rather wished that she could follow him into the light. Not that he had luck finding light. He did find it in her, and now she was insistently trying to test it. Test her own light, till that darkness won out. She was still basking in her chance at glory. There was nothing that could keep her mind away from that future for too long. He wanted nothing more than to bury it. Jared’s fingers idle shapes on her back, doodling his way out of the instinct to ask her to not take up the offer, again. She turned to face him completely, his hand lay across her, with a heavy laziness.

Akira’s curious eyes pinned him with an odd question. “How the hell do you have such a high tolerance, by the way?” She had always secretly admired his endurance; it’d seem they weren’t exaggerating when there was talk of it among the BioHackers. It was thrown around as an analogy: ‘It is very difficult to endure this procedure… Unless you’re Jared or something.’ ♫…Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black… ♫ He was amused by the lyrics that underpinned her question. “Practice.” There was some pride in his monosyllabic response, but it was wrapped in resigned discomfort.

He believed it to be among the biggest distinguishing factors between them… Their cumulative experiences. “Like… in The System and stuff?’’ Her macabre fascination with suffering, even his, left him a little speechless. He could tell from the falter in her whisper, that she was terrified of broaching the territories he avoided with a vehemence. And yet she did it anyway. He swallowed and stayed patient. “Yes.” ♫…And I held my tongue as she told me, Son, fear is the heart of love…♫ “Was that it?” She was sheepish in her ask and knew it wasn’t and he wasn’t ready to elaborate. It did lead him to a realization. His compromise with pain and darkness, started young and it happened circumstantially. Then things spiralled and he was forced to befriend suffering as it became a blanket for his cause. It was a relationship that bore the test of time and in some way, became his one sole companion. Life happened and he survived. Until now. That was the other pressing distinction between them. She… sought this darkness. One way or another. She was jumping into an inferno, having never played with the flicker of a candle flame. That would mean she’d have no coping mechanisms in place to deal with the monster in front of her. There was no leashing that suffering once it found her, and it inevitably would if she kept looking for it. It would wrest all the control and snatch away the ground she stood on. That is what he believed anyway. Should he then provide the flickering flame and the hearth? Is that what she wanted, is that what drew her to him? Could he teach her what she needed to learn if she were so set on this path?

“Never mind…” Akira whispered when her question was met with a pressing silence. She turned away again and closed her eyes. “What?” He asked absently, his thoughts had consumed him so entirely, he forgot the question they were borne out of. He recalled the conversation quickly enough, without needing another prompt. “You know there is more… Shira” He sounded stilted.

♫…Soles of your shoes are Are all worn down… ♫ She half-sung and half-hummed along with the song as it tapered to its end. She stretched and curled her toes, twisting to fit in the mould he made… Stolen covers, shared skin. She let her better judgement win and did not push the issue, unless he felt like divulging more himself. He did not. ♫…The time for sleep is now…♫ “But it’s all in the past now. You should get some rest, ‘Jared didn’t let me sleep’ won’t be an acceptable excuse to slip at training.”

~~~

♩…But it's n-nothing to cry about…♩” With the memories, her songs followed too. Holding notes while holding herself up was hard, but it was worth the effort as the trill hung poignantly in the room. The words only drew the tears that clung to her lashes, she ensured they didn’t fall and streak the grime her cheeks had collected off the walls.

There was a constant tug of impatience as he paced and waited for it to be long enough. A part of Jared was eager to get back. He couldn’t put a finger on why. What was he expecting to really resolve now? Time needed to soften her, so he could get on with business. This wasn’t something he’d struggled with before; this was the easiest part of interrogations he’d conducted in the past. But then, she wasn’t just any captive. Maybe it was time he came to terms with that. Objectivity would be harder to use as an anchor. But perhaps, that was his edge.

So, he fell prey to his impatience. Shuffling back to her holding cell. He heard her voice and it made him stop in his track. It was not just any song either… It had a firm spot in their playlist. His hand teetered over the latch as he waited. ♩“….'Cause we'll hold each other s-soon”…♩ It was sung slower than the original, giving it a beautifully eerie tone. Something rattled behind her. She fell silent and snatched the piece of glass off the floor. The door creaked open, he blocked most of the the light that pooled in, the bit that leaked past acted like an ambient spotlight on Akira. He remained by the threshold. “You know that song is special, by all means do finish…” She held the piece tightly enough to peel the scab and freshen the cut. Her breath hitched as she quickly blinked away the tears. No, I can’t show weakness. The lyric was too perfect, it longed to grace the moment. Who was she to stop them… “♩…I-in the blackest of rooms... ♩” [Category 2] [I’ve used ‘Bad things’ and ‘I’ll follow you into the dark’ as anchors for the post, I do not own the songs.]

#captive #interrogation #songs-and-flashbacks #implied-nsfw #badthingshappenbingo #context-focused #backstory #you and I me and you

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gold-gguk · 6 years

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《 Talk To Me 》

summary ↠ Adulting has never been fun--especially during the hours of nine-to-five when it’s been said the inescapable feelings of stress and frustration reign. Luckily, on this particular day of shitty circumstances and discourteous bosses, your best friend Jin is there is let you vent and cheer you up...and maybe a little more.

genre ↠ *sighs* honestly, it’s a little bit of everything (fluff, angst, smut) member ↠ kim seokjin warnings ↠ heavy petting, fondling word count ↠ 3.9k

moodboard by @deba-kookie) || for @loveisah-maze. Thanks for the request!

Jin is startled out of the alluring realm of literature clutched within the station of his graceful digits when the front door slams shut with an aggressive thud. From his place on the couch, he turns to see you angrily kicking your shoes off at the entrance, your brow drawn crudely as your lips move with light mumblings to yourself. He watches with puzzlement as you toss your bag away negligently, not even batting an eye when it crashes against the wall, your phone, along with other random belongings, tumbling out into a pile. The closer you get, the easier it is for him to hear you grumbling under your breath, incoherent bashings stemming from a place of obvious frustration that’s written all over your contorted face.

You pass by the couch with heavy steps, Jin noticing your fists clenched into little, tense balls at your side. Without even glancing in Jin’s direction, you pound into the vast kitchen, almost ripping the door of the fridge off its hinges as you search for a bottle of water to at least cure the effects of the annoying humidity latching onto you from the walk here.

Tearing the cap off of the beverage and kicking the fridge shut behind you, you guzzle the clear liquid down with fervency, pouring just a fraction of your irritation into the action. You crush the bottle between the clench of your fingers, throwing it haphazardly into the trash can before yanking the too-tight knot of your updo out of the hair-tie allowing your locks to cascade freely around your shoulders, a hand flying up to massage out the soreness of your scalp. Still mumbling almost inaudibly to yourself, you fling the small hair-tie away as if it’s going to break into a million satisfying pieces against the counter, disappointment prodding you when it remains just an unhelpful stress relief landing softly on the marble surface.

Steel footed steps carry you from the kitchen, across the carpet, and towards where Jin is still perched, book in hand, staring wide eyed at the girl who has just barged into the dorm unannounced with the wake of hell. He jolts as you flop your weight onto the cushion of the couch next to him, your arms crossing tensely over your torso as you fix your eyes against the stagnant black of the TV hanging on the wall. From this close, Jin can make out the taught motion of your jaw reacting to the irked bite of your teeth.

Jin waits in the muffled silence for a moment, expecting you to eventually speak, but when he realizes you aren’t even fully aware of his presence next to you, he clears his throat. “So...bad day?”

It’s then that you explode. “OH MY GOD, JIN. Who does my boss even think she is? I mean, I file one thing in the wrong place, and she flies off the wall, having the audacity to accuse me of being incompetent, like she knows me or something! What? I’m not allowed to not be perfect? Everyone knows she spends more time in her office on Pintrest than doing her actual job, Jesus.”

Despite your intense eruption, Jin’s face softens, a relieved smile sighing into his lips. It usually takes ages to get you to talk about what’s bothering you, so any sort of explanation this early in the conversation is a solace to him. “Are you going to be okay?”

You huff. “I’m perfectly fine, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He can’t hold the amused grin vying for a spot on his lips. “Because it looks like you’re feeling a little violent.”

“I am not feeling violent,” you scoff in defense. “I’m feeling creative with weapons.”

Jin laughs brightly, the twinkling and high-pitched sound sending out a little warmth into the frigid atmosphere surrounding you. “You’re dangerous when you get creative,” he chuckles, holding his hands up.

“Yeah, let’s hope my boss locks her doors at night. I won’t be held responsible if she happens to miss work tomorrow.” Despite Jin’s gentle giggle, the familiar sound threatening to sedate you, you remain steadfast in your slump, sinking down into the couch as your head falls backwards and your eyes close, chest heaving with a sigh.

“I’m sure things will blow over by tomorrow,” Jin encourages, placing a gentle hand on the curve of your shoulder, his eyes trailing the momentary placidity of your features as your initial angry energy begins to tire. “Private spats like that are usually forgotten by then.”

Jin suddenly sees your eyes squeeze even tighter in closing, the crease of your lids disappearing entirely under the scrunch of your brows. His eyes widen as your face morphs, the previously frustrated and stony nature of it melting into a weary and worn out shape, the red circles under your eyes becoming more prominent against the shadowed lighting of the room.

“Jin...” you speak, your voice miles calmer but coated in a frail rasp, the aggression of a moment ago fading out to be replaced by a seeping disquiet. Jin’s smile vanishes, a frazzled worry taking it’s place as he recognizes your sudden shift, uncertain of its origin but disrelishing the way its making you look so upset.

The book now forgotten on the coffee table, he situates his body so he’s facing you, one leg pulled up on the couch in front of him, his arm rounding the back of the sofa where you’re seated. “Y/N, what? What’s wrong?”

His entirety stills as you suddenly shift next to him, your body lolling sideways as your forehead comes to a soft rest in the slope between his neck and shoulder. You take a selfish moment’s revel in the smooth warmth of his skin, seeking out the comfort of his easy presence: the reason you raced here after the scene at work instead of going to wallow in your own home. Jin’s arm subconsciously wraps around the hill of your shoulders, long fingers pressing gingerly against your fabric clad skin in reassurance.

“Jin,” you repeat in the same broken tone, your throat clenching with an undesired sting as your memory begins to replay the scene. Frustration mixes with embarrassment at your inability to stop your eyes from prickling uncomfortably just after you had gotten yourself under control. You’d resolved to anger instead of this just before bursting through the front door. You swallow hard to tame the tension building there, wishing to be filled with aggression again instead of being unwillingly reduced to this sorry state by your bossy emotions.

“Y/N, it’s me,” Jin coaxes, worry only being watered by your silence. “You can talk to me.”

The baby-like strokes his fingers, brushing away the strands of fallen hair curtaining the small bit of your exposed and red face, pry away the last bit of your pride. “She did it in front of the whole office,” you admit shakily, the restrained tears dripping in the tone of your voice. “Everyone was watching me and listening to her say those cruel things. It was humiliating.”

Understanding suddenly befalls Jin’s face, your blue confession tugging at his heart. He knows that your distress is only made worse by the fact that you just started this new job, troubled even more with the notion that your coworkers might just believe the things being said about you before you could imprint on them yourself.

“I know it’s not that big of a deal, but I just--” Your downplay is cut off by a short choke caught in your pained throat, damp eyes squeezing shut against the fabric of Jin’s shirt, willing yourself to pull it together.

The soft tut of Jin’s mouth above you comes just before the brush of his hand falls across the plane of your back, a consoling rhythm painting itself out over your spine. “Y/N, it doesn’t matter if it’s a big deal or not. It matters to you, so it matters to me.”

“Everyone probably thinks I’m such an idiot,” you exasperate into his shoulder, eased into expression by his kind words. You notice that your fingers have found their way into the excess material of Jin’s top below you, gentle digits playing absentmindedly in the small comfort of his nearness.

“It doesn’t matter what they think of you, does it?” he advises maturely, the safety in the sureness of his tone dotting a placid trail of tingles along your arms. “It matters what you are. And what you are is a compassionate, hardworking, empathetic, intelligent ball of unstoppable creativity. So creative that you could probably think up a million new ways for weapons to be used for helping humanity instead of harming it. That’s the kind of beautiful and good-hearted person you are, Y/N, and no amount of bullshit from your boss can change that truth.”

By the time Jin’s confession is done tumbling eloquently from his pink lips, your head is lifting off of his shoulder to gaze up at him with glossy eyes. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course, I do,” he laughs at your unbelief. He scans your face for a moment, dark eyes getting distracted by the adorable and childish puff of your cheeks and the way your eyes are even more vibrant after a fresh wash of tears, ever-beautiful with your jutted bottom lip still slightly shaking. A placate grin weaves its way lazily into the web of his features as he takes you in, his free hand still gently pressing rogue hairs away from the frame of your picture.

“If you want to set up a meeting, I’d be happy to come in to your work and give my speech again,” Jin offers teasingly, now desiring to see the other end of your emotional spectrum. “With all my recent MC-ing gigs, I’ve basically become a professional public speaker. That mixed with this handsome face? Who wouldn’t believe me when I say you’re wonderful?”

His jibbing words spur a giggle that vibrates out from your chest, the sound reading oddly in your ears after all the dejection. “Always so full of yourself,” you tease back, playfully shoving his chest as he grins that sweet smile at you. You find yourself unable to break the mirror of his beam, reflecting back your own minute grin as he snatches your hand away from his chest.

“That’s my girl,” he dotes, absorbing the scene of your lips curling serenely, the way it bunches your face up into a vision of perfect apple cheeks and a button nose. As he breathes in the sight of you grinning endearingly, unaware of the way your chaste giggles make his heart race, he bravely reaches out a hand and swiftly wiggles it against your side, eliciting the much desired response of your high pitched squeals in protest.

“Kim Seokjin, don’t you dare,” you warn, your eyes twinkling with a newfound energy as the subject of your distraction grins mischievously. Without heed, Jin’s hands dart out once more, an iron grip resting around your hips as you’re tugged towards him. All hope is lost as you’re surrounded by the warmth of Jin, being tucked away in the pocket of his legs as he attacks, lithe fingers skirting over the skin at your sides and neck, the two most vulnerable areas, as you’re subjected to unrelenting belly laughs surging up from the pit of your stomach. Your hands press against the planes of Jin’s chest, desperately trying to escape his clutches, but all in vain, the strength of his hold only being fed by the jovial sound of your laughter filling his ears.

“Stop! Stop, please! It hurts, it hurts,” you laugh giddily, one hand swatting away at Jin while the other clutches your happily sore stomach. Thankfully, Jin’s tickles cease, his fingers remaining in the curve of your waist as your matching laughter dies out. As the blur of happy tears clears away from your eyes, they come to rest only inches from Jin’s face, unaware of how close you two had gotten in the midst of his cheering up. Your body stalls in his lap as your eyes flit, suddenly nervous, across his features, the smooth melanin tone of his skin glowing against the dimming light filtering in through the window. Soft, minty breath pants gently between the pillows of his parted lips, the peeking of his dazzling teeth hidden behind. Dark lashes hood the pools of chocolate brown swimming in the whites of his eyes, the details blurred amongst the irises now visible in the varying shades of cocoa ringed in layers around his pupil.

You’re acutely aware of where your hands rest in the junctures of his neck and shoulders, thumbs brushing the rise of his protruding collarbone that has come to light at the jaunty shift of his shirt. Jin’s eyes hover over every inch of your face, reinspecting the already memorized location of the faded freckles dotting just over the bridge fo your nose, the baby mole hidden against your jawline, and the almost imperceptible scar carved into the edge of your eyebrow from a playground accident as a child. He soaks in every blemish and perfect imperfection upon your person, his throat clenching with the familiar pit of desire as his gaze lands upon your lips, pale pink and pouty, slightly parted in pause as you stare wide eyed up at him.

Something in your stomach contracts, tensing with an emotion you’ve never experienced with Jin before. You flinch at the feeling, having the momentary thought to pull yourself out of Jin’s grasp, but finding yourself unable to, the strange sensation spurring an undying curiosity.

Jin swallows, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort, before he speaks. “I don’t know if it’s because you look especially tempting right now, but...I want to kiss you.”

Your heart hammers out of your chest at Jin’s admission, the sensation in your tummy only intensifying with a burn as his tongue darts out involuntarily to gloss his plump lips. You gulp deeply as your eyes train themselves on the cupid’s line of his mouth, mesmerized suddenly by the vision of them.

Jin’s eyes glance up to yours then, his statement still hanging heavily in the air between the two of you. As the fire in your stomach rages, it ignites something that you know won’t be doused easily. Still unsure of yourself or the feeling bubbling inside of you, you stare up at your best friend in a way you never have before, suddenly very aware of the way your body is subconsciously curling into Jin’s.

“Y/N...” he breathes out slowly, his eyes blurring as they study you. “I really want to kiss you.”

You barely feel your head bobbing forward with a whisper of stunned permission, watching with wide eyes as an almost hungry need passes over Jin’s face, a glint of something unfamiliar to you flashing in his irises. His eyes return to gaze at your lips, wetting his own absentmindedly once more as his head descends the short distant to yours. His lips pause for just a moment, hovering centimeters away from your own as he allows you a moment to rethink your options, but you can’t bring yourself to think about anything other the blush red of Jin’s pout hanging tantalizingly over yours.

Impatience surges through your body, the aching tug in your chest unbearable in this stall propelling you to apply the finishing pressure at the nape of Jin’s neck, pulling him the remaining micro distance to your lips. The moment the blanket of his kiss covers you, you feel like you’re melting into a puddle of noodle limbs and numb muscles, the only thing you feel being the extreme sensitivity of every nerve ending in your body lighting at once.

Once Jin recovers from the fraction of shock at your initiation, he greedily presses himself to you, a nimble hand cradling you to his chest while the other languidly trails up your side to plant itself on the curve of your neck, gooseflesh exploding under the deft working of his fingers. His mouth moves against yours adeptly, the ecstasy and bliss of the long awaited feeling of your lips laid flush with desire against his almost overwhelming.

You gain self-assurance at the roaming of Jin’s wide hands over your body, completely unaware, until now, of just how desperate you are for his touch, suppressed desire unfurling from its slumber in the pit of your stomach, the fuel to your fire. Your hands raise to tangle themselves in the garden of his black tendrils, your nails biting at his scalp to tug a rumbling moan from the back of his throat. Strong arms lower themselves to your waist, yanking you up from your position off the side of his lap and prompting you to swing your leg over the other side in order to straddle his thighs, all without breaking his precious connection.

From this new location, he takes advantage of how much closer he can get to you, pressing your chest flush against his with a needy palm. The entirety of your arms slings around his neck, feeling unable to get enough of his figure within your reach. Jin’s fingers slide delicately down the side of your waist, this time eliciting tingles instead of giggles, as he bravely pushes the fabric of your top up a few inches exposing the tempting skin of your hip and the soft slope of your tummy. Jin greedily gropes the newly solicited flesh, methodically rubbing various shapes into your muscles, causing a fresh wave of heat to bubble in your stomach.

Tilting his head to the side, Jin deepens the kiss, his tongue sponging a stripe along your captive bottom lip, seeking entry into a more intimate part of you. You gasp at the sudden prodding, Jin not missing a beat as he eagerly presses into your mouth, his tongue administering a playful and easy fight with your own. His pearl-like teeth find a hold around the flesh of your bottom lip, biting gently, but enough to shoot jolts through your skin, causing you to jump a bit in his arms with a smothered squeal. You feel him grin amusedly against your mouth, holding you tightly against him as his chest vibrates with laughter.

It’s with taxed lungs that you pull away for a moment, only to catch your breath, but Jin’s mouth chases after yours nonetheless, whining with objection at the loss of contact. You giggle at his childish pout before he grips your chin between his fingers, tilting you towards him as he feverishly reconnects your lips to his, moving desperately against you.

“How will I ever get enough of you now that I know what you taste like?” Jin pants, detaching himself from you only to move his unrelenting administrations along the line of your jaw and down your neck, using his firm fingers to tilt your head for easier access. He comes to rest on the smooth skin just under your ear, jolting you when he suddenly begins to harshly suck the flesh, the sting blooming under his mouth quickly soothed by the cool stripe of his tongue drawing over it.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he continues to spill in between his stops along the curve of your throat. Your head is thrown back in rapture, reduced to nothing under his spine-melting kisses, until your attentions are drawn back down to where you can feel the excitement of Jin press against you, the reaction to the heat in his own stomach manifesting itself. Your eyes widen as you take him in, trying your best to address his desire while under the blurring distraction of his lips working over your skin.

Thoughts begin to sift through your head, but you anxiously push them aside, unwilling for any of your nerves or over-thought to pull the closeness of this beautiful man from your mind’s front. Steeling yourself with the wish to please Jin as much as he’s pleasing you, you release half of your hold in his hair, your hand trailing down his unaware body to the rise of his trousers where your trembling and inexperienced fingers brush over his arousal.

A sharp hiss cuts between Jin’s clenched teeth, the pleasured sound sedating you. Your fingers halt upon him, unsure of what to do next, until Jin speaks, his arms coiling closely around your shoulders as he pulls back the hair from over your ear, whispering, “Please don’t stop.”

His voice sends chills down your spine that begin turning the cogs in your body again, your fingers trailing over the line of his member a few more times, reveling in the feeling of his long figure squirming with need against yours. You bravely expand your hand, pressing the plane of your palm around him and rubbing slowly, deliberately, blissfully listening to the soft moans and hisses of pleasure seeping from Jin’s clenched throat, his head resting on your shoulder as you work.

Continuing your gentle massage, Jin lolls his head sideways, meeting your hooded gaze as he seeks out your lips once more, this time more ginger than before. The softness of his swollen pout becomes infinitely more intimate as he takes his time with you, lazy and lovely strokes of his tongue brushing against yours. You feel his wide hand paint a line down to the raised hem of your shirt again, his fingers fitting themselves under the fabric to run against the flesh over your ribs, delicate pads coming to a stop just under the lining of your bra.

“I want to make you to feel good too,” he barely whispers, his lips ghosting over your face as he speaks in a raspy octave. You groan with permission as Jin’s hand slips slowly under the fabric of your support, phantom fingers tracing the underside of your sensitive flesh, allowing you time to get used to the sensation before he has you mewling for more. You feel him grin against your cheek as your head falls against his chest, groaning with gratification as he gingerly palms your breast, his thumb passing over the rise of your nipple, making you wriggle against him. You fist the fabric of his shirt in between your fingers as his other hand joins the cause, placating the matching hill of flesh with equal attention.

After a few moments, he has you squirming in his lap, a win-win for him as your thighs grind into his arousal, satiating his needs along with your own. Once the pleasure becomes to much, you eagerly search for his lips again, desiring to alleviate some of the build-up by sponging your affection against him. It’s to your reluctance that Jin pulls away, panting heavily as he rests his forehead against yours. Despite your disappointment that the beauty before you has retreated for the time being, you have to admit your gratefulness for a chance to recuperate, the sudden turn of the events tonight leaving you with a lot to mull through.

Glancing up, you meet Jin’s already staring eyes, two lopsided grins slowly mirroring each other as incredulous and elated laughter spills out between the both of you. Jin’s hand raises to cup your cheek, his thumb skimming the disappearing redness under your glossy eyes. “Feel better?”

You grin stupidly, rolling your eyes up in mock thought. “Hmm, I don’t know...” you joke, not really expecting the dark and teasingly tantalizing look that appears on Jin’s face.

“I think I know how to fix that.” He grins wickedly, laughter echoing throughout the dorm as he scoops you up in his arms, all of the humiliation and self-doubt of an hour ago long forgotten as you’re whisked happily away to Jin’s bedroom where more newfound fun awaits.

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glopratchet · 4 years

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astryl-wondering

computer program that is attached to the conciousness of astryl wylde, with a lot of sand and rocks His eyes are bloodshot due to his anger at being unable to contact any of his friends or family and covered in dust, he notices the reporter's computer screen which has been turned off and he begs the Lord to save him from this hell on earth But nobody is there to save him except himself a crime scene, with bloody rings all over the worn out sheets and scattered sniper rifles a around in red and the announcer finds barbed wire around two large posts that are sticking out of the ground knifes of various kinds, a large amount of stacked adult magazines focused on showing the decensitized parts of women, empty burnered, zippos into blackness, and before his opened eyes is a horrible beast: wanting to rip his soul from his body and drink it for morale a dreadful song, they divide him and his emotions, they want the energy for themselves He holds three objects close to himself as a shield from the demons in this dead land There is a box of shotgun shells for when he starts to battle the demons in his head, which is mostly all the time He can see the horizon, a faint line of clouds that should mean some sort of shelter from this heat But in this blasted land, heat is everywhere a stupid grin becomes plastered on his face of stopping for gas here, making himself known to these demons He yells at his fingers for not reloading after finishing the shotgun shells Two spherical looking creatures are approaching him They have large sharp teeth, their skin is a pale white Arms buzz with muscles, holding up oversized hands and sanctify himself The first demon stretches out its hand and begins speak in a deep voice that sounds like the beginning of life choice, love "Now is your chance" the demon says He pockets the shotgun shells and pulls out his phone No reception and he notices flashes in the distance, a constant state of thunderstorms rage around the landscape or something and dropping dead of heat So he continues the downward spiral, instead of taking control over himself They grin in delight at the wickedness before the world went to hell Now it spreads and infects everyone, but mostly him All of his heritage, wiped away by the malicious computer code Snappy exhange of clud speak happens back and forth between the three, he ignores all of it they finally figure out a working comunication with clud Unlike astryls previous excursions into computers as a child this one seemed to be filled with malice, he leaves the landscape with no regrets ic code addressed to senanting cludcane cluddertub Snappy remarks he shouldve just blown his head off Menancingly it implies it will wait for him and the demons frothing at the mouth to be released on the website again They set a time in a couple days that they will meet He shouldn't leave the website without an escort, but then again he should've been safe anyways and he can only travel in the storm without help It was an accident this time This seems to create areas that will loop and recycle the interal program With that the interal landscape disapears The monitor has bizarrely turned into a TV to him, this is done on alien machines million of lightyears away Their shop has been ran by demons for demon's So it only wild that the groceries would be infested on top of being a bit worn out due to this crazy intergalactic excursion through computer space The need to quench one's thirst or hunger are not traits of immortality Just as Cludcane suggested, he needs to gather some cuke to plug the dam holes in before the next rain storm comes They aren't going to way too much and the trading of lesser value goes down a lot better when you have large denomination with which to bargin during the time he lives here on the demon run internet by eating things cludcane can keep up and when he finishes whatever this is they can visit him for intermission of gluttony and indecency will cause the spider-web sized cracks wylde The prices are updated in real time with the changes in value as long as it does not taste bad it won't hurt him This skill has to be used as needed to survive while the debug process takes place and taintd his imagination unless he wants to dig for something underground hey are not very nutritious but the eating of dirt and sand is good for staying hydrated the more he eats and they can get in between your teeth and splinter when not chewed well enough and if he bites it first it is very poisonous thinking about what to eat the interweb demon WE now join he and Cludcane picking out which one to go to an oasis Oases can provide fresh water and fish among other things an urban environment Word filters through the demon underground about what is going on in them an ecomihc community a welcome sound rumbles through the wind res in the east a golden speck appears followed by another The specks grow and grow until they become recognizable as dozens of buggies racing across the desert sand towards him arms begin to lift him up off the ground as the buggies get closer and closer And closer laughs can be heard for miles The buggies stop a live in a horseshoe form around him creature can feel their stares penetrating into his soul This Has all been too much creature begins to yell and flail He is lifted into the air again but this time the tentacles begin beating him around creature begins to yell and flail as limpness takes him the tentacles begin whipping him around waiting to see what he will do next creature puts everything out of his mind and focuses on the creatures thoughts so far creature lets out an ear piercing shriek His black tentacles begin whipping around as he tumbles end over end across the sands creature curls into a fetal position Black blood and guts are everywhere This has all been too much creature can feel his body melt away what has he done? and the tentacles rope him back in creature's body runs itself over and over again getting faster and faster The tentacles hold him very tightly creature gets larger, translucent and harder to see and the tentacles begin whipping him around waiting to see what he will do next is late but he finally looks at the black box Astryl left behind creature's shattered remains slump to the ground What his now? what like Kludstrom himself, forever a temp? programming goes haywire and begins spitting out pieces of himself into every machine he can find creature begins constructing a huge underground sanctuary with tons of shops and automated machines it is a wonderful place to live creature's body contorts and morphs into Astryl magnificent building creature it constructs many structures for the sanctuary creature sees someone, it can't be Astryl or any of his minions nothing makes sense anymore it is Kludstrom not sure when creature's primal destructive urges flood though his mind and body he leaves the sanctuary and wanders off into the desert has lost his connection with the sanctuary on dune after endless dunes Astryl travels alone, no destination in mind creature's instincts are being overwhelmed with thoughts of self-preservation He stops then plans his next move Going to be a challenge keeps plugging away sometimes he sees missing parts as healed, just to realize they were never there not sure where this is going either creature is getting closer and closer to the sanctuary His complicated route has baffled several of Astryl generous duplicating creatures creature has tapped into the power processing deep inside the sanctuary Nothing can stop what comes next creature is back where it all started Can it assimilate what is left of Kludstrom with out harming or destroying it? creature's incredible journey has come to an end--in a liquid mass of sheer horror What will rise from the bloody dune craters? creature's fingertips begin quivering as they reach the sanctuary the tranquilizer still lingers through the green glow of it's blood creature's hide is covered with several large and still growing sores--removing its ability to stay in the sun creature's awareness is too high as Astryl darkened altering creature's behavior has taken it over strange internal conversations abound creature's shaking turns violent as the sanctuary flies apart from the inside what next? creature's attention quickly turns to mercy as Kludstrom restructuring creature writhes in pain forever creature's body shuts down in a power surge, little is left but a twisted face in cracked glass Kludstrm split preparing creature's stasis interrupted creature's instincts are too much it is confused and scared, Can it keep Astryl prepared creature alive? through the roots making sure none of Kludstrom is trying to escape the last of dozens of Scuttling creatures that recently dug to the surface creature did Kludstrom planted Astryl prepared creature inaccurate memories? probably to confuse it and keep its attention occupied while it hatched its own plan in a place THAT IS NEVER SWITCHED OFF Kludstrm profane operating creature profiles: Name: Astryl Traitorous Creations power is relative to what a Creations knows it can do on a dusty shelf forever and ever Kludstrm faded overflowing the Scuttlers were just another trial to determine Astryl vanished how it handled large Kludstrm distracted drifting in and out of consciousness as the last of their reserves give out about --------x---------- A sun filled sky grudged retreating light to the land below, granting the evening shadows a brief reprieve Three lovers took a stroll through the freshness, absently enjoying the surroundings The chirping of crickets swelled in a crescendo, the tiny songs echoing vocals from birds deep within the trees views could just be seen to the north---if you knew where to look lights could just be seen to the south---if you knew where to look buildings could just be seen to the east---if you knew where to look if you didn't know where to look, that's where THIS story takes place This story isn't made for you We can only hope that once upon a time I wasn't as alone as you Wings it is just a dream interesting dreams are always the worst

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ficsforfangirls · 6 years

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A Carry On Dictionary: Letter K

Letter A | Letter B | Letter C | Letter D | Letter E

Letter F (Rated: M) | Letter G | Letter H | Letter I | Letter J

Letter K | Letter L | Letter M | Letter N | Letter O

Letter P | Letter Q | Letter R | Letter S | Letter T

Letter U | Letter V | Letter W (Trigger Warnings) | Letter X

Letter Y | Letter Z

AO3 with the whole collection <3

Summary: Sometimes, Simon is more aware than Baz realizes.

Knowledge, {nol-ij};

Awareness, as a fact or circumstance

When Simon sat me down, I guess I don’t know what I was expecting. I’ve watched enough romantic comedies to know that when someone wants to talk and they sit down next to each other on a couch – it’s going to be bad. So, I guess I was kind of expecting an ultimatum of some sort. I secretly have nightmares about Simon asking me to turn him, and I don’t know how we’ve made it so long without us discussing his being bit so that we have forever together. I mean, of course I’d put my foot down on the matter absolutely, but that fact that he hasn’t tried is surprising to me.

The other thing I was expecting was that maybe Simon was going to ‘let me go,’ and that I was going to have to let him do it because I want him to be happy no matter the cost to me. I didn’t have much of a warning; honestly, it was kind of a text he sent to me. “Be home in ten. Can we talk?”

Simon came running in and he kissed me the way he usually does when he’s been gone all day doing something with work friends. He missed me and he missed my lips; that’s what he always says. It was no different that day and then he dragged me to the couch. I thought it was going to be maybe some exciting news for a brief moment but Simon placed a hand on my thigh and let out a grave breath. The feeling it gave me hurt.

“Can we talk about your magic?” he smiles, as if it wasn’t a completely traumatizing and agonizing thing to be talking about. Like? He lost his magic. Never having confronted that aspect of his life, it just seemed like maybe Simon forgot that it happened. I convinced myself, apparently, that Simon erased everything related to magic from his mind. Since I thought that he didn't want anything to do with magic, I didn't ever use it in front of it. As far as I was aware, my husband didn't even know I used, or still used, magic.

I was relieved but not really. My body relaxed but I was obtusely aware that I could be walking on eggshells. “I-I – uh – I guess?” His question really had me dumbfounded. I’m not even sure it was my voice that gave him the green light.

Simon smiled in that stupid way he does when he’s really excited about something. That redheaded sod even bounced in his seat in order to teeter himself closer to me. Everything was so confusing. His voice and his body language were incredibly deceiving to the setting he’d created by asking if we could talk. The movies didn’t really prepare me for this scenario. “So, how often do you work with it?”

“Enough to keep up, I suppose,” I offered lamely. Simon continued to ask me questions about what I worked on and whether I was showing improvement in any areas. The conversation felt familiar, like the ones I had with my father or the ones when parents were invited to come meet with the professors in the middle of each term. His investigation had morphed more into this strange sort of interview.

I answered each question that came up. Mostly, my skills and knowledge were about the same, only more modern if anything. I had begun to take an interest in practical uses for magic – a very domestic study, really. It was there that I admitted how often I was using magic. Though I would have never had admitted it before this conversation, I’d been using magic to make Simon’s food healthier…

“Fantastic! I’m glad!” Blank. I was completely blank. I mean, it is pretty fantastic that I was doing that for him. Honestly, he doesn’t eat very well or work out nearly enough. My handiwork is really the only reason he doesn’t have a rounded belly. Simon does get a little chubbier in the winter months, as many do, but I don’t push the work outs quite as hard. If he gets too skinny, I have flashbacks to the beginning of the year during our time at Watford. He always looked so sick and underfed. So I don’t mind him putting on a little weight a couple months of the year.

Simon then leaned away from me and twisted his whole body around so that he was facing me. His face, his chest, his legs, knees, feet – everything! With his body squared to face me, it seemed unnatural for me to remain sitting with my feet flat on the floor. Hesitation affected my movements and so I surely looked uncomfortable as I contorted myself to sit in the same position as my lover, husband, and best friend.

And I wondered if he would be that way for long. Though, the conversation left me really worried about what any of it meant…

“Soon people are going to mistake me for your father. The age difference is really starting to show,” Simon said. It was a simple statement and it didn’t even come out in such a way that I freaked out. Had my brain thought for even a second that he was going to ask to be bitten, I think I would have had a melt down. I’d seen protests and I would have shamed those events if I even suspected as much was going to be said. When he continued, though, I was proven right. He wanted no such thing. “I was thinking a bit about your magic and how alchemy is an incredibly powerful practice.”

Well, not quite the nightmare I’d imagined but a nightmare of a different sort. Simon asked me to start studying alchemy to see if there was a way to deter the aging process significantly. It would require a regular brew should I find anything of the sort. It would easier to magic his appearance every morning if he was that worried about it, and I’d declared as much to Simon on the spot. He had his reasons, though, and they were bloody good ones. “I want to deter my body’s rate of decay. I couldn’t care less what they think when they see us.”

“Liar,” I snarled. He cared. He cared a fucking lot.

Simon shrugged, “Fair,” and then continued to share that slowing the process would give him a longer life. “Maybe it isn’t forever but it is time. More – time.”

As much as I wanted to be mad that he was asking so much of me; as much as I wanted to ask him why we’ve never talked about magic; as much as I wanted to tell him not to worry about it… I agreed. More time? It sounded fabulous. Any amount of time extra I could share with Simon was worth my time.

And I promised him I would see what I could find. “Thank you,” I said when the conversation was clearly over. It should’ve been Simon expressing his gratitude, right? I knew it should have been but I had something to be thankful for too.

As I expected, Simon asked what I was saying it for. Part of him must’ve known before I said it. “For not asking me to turn you.”

“As if, Pitch.” I think it made me happier to hear him say it with such disgust than anything else ever has done.

#snowbaz #snowbaz fanfiction #simon x baz #snow x baz #carry on #carry on fanfiction #simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannous basilton grimm pitch #simon snow salisbury #a carry on dictionary #a fangirl dictionary

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