#2 i know i mix up numbers and letters so i should have had a system in place to prevent this

[terrorbirb]

I think permanent corrective actions and root cause analysis exist solely to cause people with OCD and anxiety disorders to ruin their brains.

[afyrian]

candied peels and crushes kageyama tobio x gn!reader (fluff) synopsis: you run into your crush while searching for a snack word count: 800 warnings: none masterlist / pt. 2

    clouds start to blanket the sky above, sunlight dimming slowly as the day grows longer. light oranges start to inhabit the tree lines, and by this point, you should be home. however, a few of the clubs needed their photos taken for some tournaments they had won recently. leaving you walking around to find a vending machine before having one more set of photos to take. 

  all of them in the main building were either empty or out of your favorite snacks, like candied iyokan peels. a good mix sweet and tangy, blending perfectly on the tongue. and yet, they’re all missing from every location you can think of, besides the one next to the volleyball court. that place had always been a mystery to you.

  it was away from the school, typically only the sports teams ever entered it (mainly due to a key). so, you had only been twice, once to grab something for a friend. and the second is when you saw the love of your life, kageyama. technically, you didn’t really know him, and he didn’t know you. yet, the moment you saw him, the world stopped. 

  he was mid-jump. dumping the ball over the net to trick the other scrimmage opponents. sweat framed his face and his blue eyes focus intently on the task at hand. for a split second, it wavers, just barely grazing you. and that was the moment that you began to notice him.

  you see him in your classes, at lunch. yet, you’ve never had the courage to talk to him. you’ve especially never had the courage to return to that area of the schoolyard when you know he’ll be there. meaning, this mission of yours has to resemble that of a spies’. silent, quick, and out of sight of anyone who might tell kageyama.

  you peek around the corner at the vending machines, one for drinks, one for snacks. a sigh of relief escapes at the sound of a seemingly empty gym. with a smile, you happily walk over to the vending machine. there you see heaps of candied iyokan peels. mini bags filled with the only thing to fast track the end of your anxious episode. 

  you grab a few yen, pushing them into the slot, only for them to fall out of the coin gatherer. your eyebrows furrow, eyes narrowing at the faulty machine. of course now is when it doesn’t want to work. you grab them back out and stuff them back in, watching as they fall right back out. taking in a deep sigh, you rest your head against the machine’s door. 

  “why is this happening?” 

  “i can try it for you..” a familiar voice nearly stops your heart, your mind racing as soon as you recognize who it is. 

  you back up from the vending machine and look over at him, lips formed into a thin line. instantly you want to run away and avoid any and all conversation with him. however, talking to him could possibly be the only thing that’ll help cure you of your soul-crushing crush, “thank- thanks. they won’t seem to stick.”

  “i’ve had that happen, just..” kageyama grabs the coins from the collection spot, his tongue sticking slightly out as he slips the coins in.

  instantly the little screen lights up asking what you want, numbers and letters spread out in little buttons. “what do you want?” he looks over at you, eyes practically sparkling from the beautiful orange sky.

  “want? uhh yeah, the candied iyokan peels. i like the citrus taste,” you rock between your heels and balls of your feet, eyes constantly averting his gaze. 

  kageyama nods, pursing his lips. he pushes in the numbers and letters for you, bending over to grab it from the open slot. you smile at him, hoping to pretend that your heart isn’t about to explode into a pile of tiny pieces. this small act of kindness suddenly catapults your feelings for him, sending them over the moon and back.

  you grab the bag from his hand, feeling the electricity transfer between your fingers as they brush yours, “thanks, i have to go take some photos soon, so i’m happy to have a snack.”

  kageyama nods, grabbing out a yen for himself, sticking it into the drink machine. you’ve always noticed him to be a little reserved, quiet. however, you could never tell what he would be like on a one on one kind of situation. “makes sense… well maybe i’ll see you around then,” he nearly mutters, voice so quiet it could rival a mouse.

  “yeah, in class or something. uh thank you, again, i really appreciate it. well me and my craving for these do,” you smile, mainly to yourself, as you walk back towards the main building. 

[chiyuuchu]

Heartfelt Letters <3 (30th July 2024)

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Prompt! Izuku receives a series of love letters. The dekusquad offer their encouragement but little did he know, they were all in on it.

Izuku Midoriya was no stranger to nerves. As the inheritor of One For All and the aspiring Number One Hero, he faced countless challenges that tested his courage and resolve. Yet, despite all his bravery on the battlefield, there was one thing that made him more nervous than anything else: his crush on Y/N.

Y/N was everything Izuku felt he wasn't. She was confident, graceful, and had an effortless charm that drew people to her. She was the sunshine in the class, lighting up every room she entered with her warm smile and infectious laughter. Izuku admired her from afar, convinced that someone as amazing as Y/N would never be interested in someone as clumsy and nervous as him.

One day, after a particularly grueling training session, Izuku found a love letter in his locker. His heart raced as he read the sweet, heartfelt words written inside:

Love Letter #1:

"Dear Izuku,

I’ve been watching you from afar, admiring your determination and courage. You inspire me every day with your kindness and bravery. Thank you for being the wonderful person you are.

Yours truly,

Your Secret Admirer"

Izuku's heart pounded as he read the letter, a mix of excitement and confusion filling him. Who could this be? Why would anyone admire him like this? He felt a strange mix of hope and doubt, unsure of what to think.

The next day, Izuku found another letter waiting for him in his locker. His hands trembled as he opened it, his heart racing with anticipation.

Love Letter #2:

"Dear Izuku,

Your smile brightens my day, even on the darkest of days. I love how you never give up, no matter how tough things get. Please keep being you.

With admiration,

Your Secret Admirer"

Izuku’s blush deepened every time he read these letters. The Deku Squad—consisting of Y/n, Uraraka, Iida, Todoroki, and Tsuyu—quickly noticed his distraction and curiosity. They were gathered in their classroom, discussing the latest assignment when they spotted Izuku clutching yet another letter.

"Hey, Deku, what’s that you’ve got there?" Uraraka asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Izuku hesitated before showing them the letter. "I keep finding these in my locker. I don’t know who they’re from, but... they make me really happy."

Iida adjusted his glasses, his expression serious. "Midoriya, you are an exemplary student and a kind-hearted individual. It is no surprise that someone would admire you."

Todoroki nodded in agreement. "I think you should consider the possibility that it's someone close to you."

Izuku blushed, glancing around at his friends. Just then, Y/N, who had been sitting quietly at her desk, stood up and excused herself. "Excuse me, I need to get something from my locker," she said before leaving the classroom.

As she left, Izuku continued in a hushed voice to his best friend Todoroki, "I don’t know… I just can’t imagine someone like Y/N ever being interested in me."

The next day, Y/n who was seated beside the green haired boy noticed a slip of paper underneath his desk. “Oh Izuku! There’s something beside your foot.” she gently said pointing towards the letter. As she was about to say something else, she gets a phone call. “Oh, I have to take this. I’ll be back guys!” the girl chirps as she stepped out of class. As she left, Izuku had clutched yet another letter in his hand as he was reading it in class.

Love Letter #3:

"Dear Izuku,

I’ve seen you grow so much since the first day we met. Your dedication and heart make you special in ways that words can hardly express. I hope this letter finds you well and that it brings a smile to your face.

Forever admiring,

Your Secret Admirer"

Just then, Kaminari who was walking by the green haired boy’s desk, he accidentally blurted out, "So, are you and Y/N together yet? She’s been sending you letters for a while now."

Izuku’s eyes widened in shock. "Wait, what? Y/N has been sending me these letters?"

The Deku Squad suspiciously exchanged glances.

"Honestly, I thought it would take you a lot longer to figure it out," Mina Ashido said with a smirk, leaning back in her chair.

"Yeah," Uraraka added, "We were pretty sure you'd catch on sooner. I mean, the signs were pretty clear."

"Everyone had their bets on how long it would take for you to realize, ribbit." Tsuyu said with a gentle smile.

Iida nodded thoughtfully. "We had our suspicions that you’d catch on, but we didn’t want to ruin the surprise."

Izuku's face grew even redder. "You guys knew about this? Why didn’t you say anything?"

The class burst into laughter, with some students even teasing Izuku about his obliviousness. He turned to Y/N, who had just re-entered the classroom, his heart racing.

Y/N looked at him with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "Is something going on?"

Izuku’s face turned beet red. "I didn’t know… I had no idea it was you."

Y/N smiled softly. "Yes, it was me. I wanted to let you know how much I admire you."

The entire classroom erupted in cheers and laughter. Izuku’s face was bright red, but he couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face.

Izuku held the letter close, his heart full. The letters had been a source of joy and hope for him, and now, knowing who was behind them made everything even more meaningful. As he looked at Y/N, he knew that this was just the beginning of something wonderful.

[it-was-too-cold-always]

We're Not in CW Anymore - 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

The reader gets blasted into another universe - one where Sam and Dean Winchester are real people, real hunters, and really fucked up. To her surprise (or horror), Dean has been getting glimpses of her life in his dreams and is completely enamored with her. It's nothing like the cable-friendly CW show that she knows and loves.

Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: language, violence

Chapter 3: The Bunker

The Impala pulled up to the bunker, the car still awkwardly silent. Dean opened the door for you and offered a small smile as you climbed out of the backseat. It was almost comforting. Almost. You couldn’t shake the idea of him watching you undress or take a shit. God knows what he saw. And until you figure out what exactly he’s witnessed, you’re going to keep your guard up.

Sam led you down the corridors of the bunker, which did actually look a lot like the show. Dean followed behind you, making you a little more uneasy. You were suddenly very aware of how tall they are compared to how short you are. Sam and Dean towered over you. They also walked too damn fast for your little legs. Finally you were standing in the main room of the bunker. Unlike the show, the room was bustling with people. There were a couple gathered around a book, a few staring at laptop screens quietly, and a handful typing away on their keyboards. You recognized one of them – Charlie. She had on headphones and was bobbing her head to the beat no one else could hear.

“Right, let’s ask James where to start,” Sam said after clearing his throat. He went over and talked to one of the men reading off his laptop. You could see them talking, Sam pointing over to you. You blushed heavily. Trying to ignore Dean staring at you again, you took a moment to look around the room. You were pleased to see a pretty good mix of people – not everyone was a white man. They were all dressed in business casual, mostly button-ups. A stark contrast to Sam and Dean’s flannel and jeans. You remembered their grandfather thought of hunters as less than – do these Men of Letters feel the same?

“Thanks, man,” Sam said to James before walking back towards you. He shot Dean a look, probably for staring again. “So, he gave me a few books to start off, nothing really concrete. I guess we won’t find out until we start digging.” Sam gestured for you to take a seat at a table in the back of the room. “Be right back,” he said.

Dean stood for a moment, contemplating if he should sit next to you or across. He decided to sit next to you, maybe he won’t be as tempted to stare. He couldn’t help it – he watched you for months, and he couldn’t help but fall for you a little. You were funny, had great taste in music, and killer curves. He liked the way you talked to yourself and sang in the shower. It’s only natural he developed a crush on you. And now he was in such close proximity to you. He wanted to touch you, just to make sure it was really true. You were here, in his bunker, in real life. Not only that, but you were supposedly soulmates. It made his heart flutter a little, though he’d never admit it.

“Do you think Gabriel was telling the truth?” you blurted, breaking Dean’s train of thought.

“Which part?” he asked.

“You know which part. The soulmates part. That’s crazy, right? Soulmates aren’t real.”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t have time to – by the time he opened his mouth, Sam slammed down several books onto the table. “Alright, everyone pick one and let’s get to work.” This was going to be a long night.

After several hours of reading the oldest book you’ve ever seen, you were ready to call it a night. The number of people in the main room of the bunker was dwindling, just like your patience. “What exactly are we trying to accomplish?” you asked, stretching with a heavy sigh. You didn’t see the point in researching soulmates and alternate universes. It’s not going to change anything. Unless they could get you back home.

“If Gabriel worked hard enough to transport you to a whole different universe, surely it was for a good reason. There has to be some sort of explanation besides you and Dean being soulmates,” Sam said, not even looking up from his book. You stole a glance at Dean, who met your gaze. Your eyes silently begged him to put an end to this reading torture and suggest we go to bed. As if he could read your mind, he cleared his throat. “I don’t know man, I think we should call it a night. It’s been a long ass day.” Thankfully Sam agreed.

“Where am I sleeping?” you asked. Surely there was a spare room in here somewhere. “Let me find an empty room. I think there’s one not too far from our rooms,” Dean responded. You were ready to have some time to yourself to process everything that’s happened today. Especially the whole soulmate thing. That was going to take some getting used to. Dean led you to his bedroom, inviting you to sit on the bed while he searched for a room you could use. His room was decorated with various guns hanging on the wall. A picture of him and his mom sat on his nightstand. You walked over and picked up the photo. Dean was a cute kid, and Mary was beautiful. They looked genuinely happy. It was a nice picture.

“Good news and bad news. There IS a spare bedroom, but it’s filled to the brim with boxes of old files. I’m not even sure there’s a bed underneath all that crap.” Dean’s voice made you jump. You were too focused on the photo to hear him coming. You blushed as you set the picture back down – he caught you snooping around his stuff. “Then where the hell do I sleep?” you asked. This is a nightmare.

“How about you take the bed and I take the floor?” Dean suggested.

“I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor in your own room. YOU take the bed, and I’LL take the floor,” you responded.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor after traveling dimensions. Take the damn bed.”

“You’re stubborn as fuck,” you sighed. “Okay, we’re both adults, right? We can share a queen bed without being dramatic about it. Just no funny business, or I’ll kick you in the balls.”

He chuckled. “No funny business. I pinky promise,” he said, holding out his pinky finger to you. You took it in yours and immediately felt sparks fly. You both stared at your hands for a moment, half expecting literal sparks coming off your fingers. The electricity you felt off his single digit was intoxicating. You wondered what would happen if you did more than touch pinkies.

He cleared his throat, letting go of your finger quickly. “I could find something for you to wear to bed, get out of those jeans. I doubt you’ll want to sleep in them,” he said as he started rummaging around his dresser. He pulled out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. “Bathroom’s around the corner. I think Sam set out a toothbrush and whatnot for you already.” You changed quickly, anxious to get the whole crawling into bed part over. That would be the most awkward part, you told yourself.

You walked back into the room, the sweatpants going inches past your ankles like little socks. Dean was matching you with gray sweats and a black t-shirt. You gawked a little. The shirt was tight enough for you to get a peek of the wall of muscle underneath. His arms were toned and muscular. One was covered in tattoos, the other in various scars from fighting monsters all his life. I guess that is more realistic, you thought. The idea of him getting all those scars made you sad, nonetheless. “Alright which side do you want?” he asked. You shrugged and picked the left, crawling under the covers. You stayed as close to the edge of the bed as possible. Dean did the exact same thing, leaving a large space in between you two. You prayed you’d fall asleep quickly, feeling uncomfortable in this awkward situation. Sharing a bed with a complete stranger. God, please don’t let him be a creep.

Chapter 4

Tags 💛

@5tud10-54r4h  @deans-spinster-witch

[heloflor]

So after New Wish I started watching some random episodes of the og show, starting with the ones featuring Cosmo and Wanda’s families, which got me thinking of how those relationships could have evolved up to the new show. So here are some headcanons about it (2k words below):

The Cosmas:

For Cosmo’s relationship with his brother, I like to think they kept in touch after Schnozmo’s introduction, writing letters and seeing each other every so often, mainly at a bar or restaurant because 1. Wanda doesn’t want that man anywhere near her home (whether it’s their actual house or their godkid’s place) and 2. Schnozmo can convince his brother to pay for the two of them so might as well get a free meal out of it.

On that note, while they get along and would say they have a good relationship, Cosmo would definitely be a bit more guarded around Schnozmo, at least as in he understands why Wanda doesn’t want to be around him and he refuses to lend him any money knowing it won’t be paid back.

And outside of Cosmo, like I said Wanda doesn’t exactly like the guy. She can stand being in the same room as him and has no issues with Cosmo having a relationship with him but she doesn’t trust her BIL one bit. Schnozmo can sense her hostility and keeps his distance as a result, if he can’t get anything from her he’s not going to bother get on her good side.

As for Peri, Schnozmo strikes me as the kind of guy who doesn’t really like kids (at least he had the decency to save the baby in his episode but they don’t exactly interact outside of it) so I could see him make no effort in bonding with his nephew and tell Cosmo not to bring him along when they hang out. And once Peri’s grown, his uncle is basically a stranger so why should he care for the guy, likewise Schnozmo writes him off like he does Wanda.

With Mama Cosma things are a little bit more complicated. Ok so first off I know it’s not actually canon but rather something many people parrot but I really like the idea of Cosmo being 10 000 years old during the og show. This means that, with the knowledge he and Wanda had been married for over 9 000 years (I think the exact number is 9 895 years?), Cosmo only spend about 1/100 of his life with his mom before running off. So despite being a mama’s boy, he isn’t afraid to go no contact with her for a long period of time.

(More on the relationship between Cosmo and his mom in this post. Yeah I’m having a blast with the angst potential of Cosmo being one of the most powerful fairies out there but being considered both a danger and “waste of potential” due to being “dumber” than the average fairy)

But yeah during the events of the og show the two of them reunite and spend a lot of time together, with Mama Cosma especially coming in handy when they need someone to babysit Poof (she dealt with one overpowered baby, she can do with another one).

However, she’s basically playing doll with her grandson so by the time he turns 5-6 (if not earlier) and starts having his own opinions and as a result starts saying “no” to things, Mama Cosma does not take it well and becomes verbally abusive towards the kid. She also tells him there’s no use ratting her out to his parents in a mix of “they wouldn’t believe you” and “you don’t want to make your dad angry and sad do you?”.

Eventually Timmy hears about it and wastes no time telling Cosmo and Wanda, and Cosmo is pissed. So they go to the Cosma’s house, Cosmo tells his mom off because you know she wouldn’t listen to Wanda, some nasty things are said and Cosmo decides to cut contact with her again, this time more openly and making it clear it’s permanent and she better not try anything or she’ll regret it, especially since she knows how powerful her son is.

Also once they get back home Cosmo would profusely apologize to Wanda about never standing up for her. Because I like to think that Cosmo had always been pretty unhappy with how his mom acted towards his wife but chalked it up to Mama Cosma not having seen him in a long time and being a bit possessive as a result, hoping she would calm down with time and turning a blind eye when she didn’t. Wanda wouldn’t be too happy it took their son being hurt for Cosmo to do anything, but at least they’re finally done dealing with Mama Cosma.

So yeah after that they don’t have any contact. Maybe she’d try meeting them at some point only to be told off again (it’d be funny if she showed up like “I gave you some time to cool off son now about me getting back into your life” but she does it 20 years later because time just works differently when you’re immortal).

I could also see the possibility that, when Peri is well into his job and out of the house, Wanda would give Cosmo permission to have a relationship with Mama Cosma again if he wishes too, since I could see him miss her a bit, though I’m not sure Cosmo would take the risk. If he does, it would be with hard boundaries like Mama Cosma being forbidden from having any interaction with Wanda and Peri, never meeting at the Fairywinkle-Cosma house and if Mama Cosma makes a single comment about Wanda or Peri she’s out the door.

So yeah a complicated toxic relationship that would end with no contact but might open up at some point. Maybe. Probably not for a few millennia at least.

And if I need to say a word about Jorgen since he and Cosmo are cousins, I don’t see them discovering their ancestry as changing anything about their dynamic. Jorgen is still Cosmo’s boss and acts like it, same with Wanda. The fact those two often get in trouble for their kids’ wishes along with Cosmo being Cosmo doesn’t help in Jorgen keeping it solely professional between them.

As for Peri, while Jorgen does seem to have a bit of a soft spot for him (Peri flinching every single time Dev yells at him shows he’s a bit of a coward yet he shields his parents against Jorgen in “Lost in Fairy World” + Jorgen calling him “Peri-weri”), I could see it as having more to do with Peri being the youngest fairy rather than a family connection. Tbh in general I see Peri as being babied by most people who knew him as a kid, to his dismay (this is also my explanation as to why he changed his name, he wants people to stop immediately identify him as the last baby born).

Also I can’t speak about the Tooth Fairy because I barely remember anything about her personality in the og show and New Wish doesn’t exactly put her in the best light, so I’m going to say she’s like Jorgen on that front, not seeing the Fairywinkle-Cosma as family members and being nicer to Peri (her offering him a job) because she knew him as a baby.

The Fairywinkles:

For Blonda, I see her and Wanda as still having a tense relationship but they can handle being in the same room and do small talk. I also like to think that they’re jealous of each other, with Wanda feeling insecure when seeing her sister’s success while Blonda is envious of her twin’s simpler life (“simpler” as in “doesn’t have to deal with crazy fans and constant pressure to stay relevant”). So yeah they don’t exactly get along great but they can handle family reunions. Also if they talk things out there could be potential for a reconciliation.

As for how she feels about Wanda’s family, I could see Blonda be neutral towards Cosmo. She doesn’t mind interacting with him and might even find him funny, but she’s not too close to him either and doesn’t understand what Wanda sees in him.

In return, Cosmo’s chill with her. She doesn’t openly insult him so he takes it as her being nice and friendly with him (yeah when every single fairy you meet either mocks you or is terrified of you, the bar gets very low). That being said he’d probably feel uncomfortable whenever she insults Wanda and as a result doesn’t make any attempt to interact with her outside of family reunions. He also lets Wanda call the shots on whether or not they should interact with Blonda, understanding it’s complicated between the two and not wanting to pressure Wanda into a relationship she might not want.

For Peri, I could see Blonda babysit him a few times when he was a toddler if only because he was a celebrity back then and she could get some clout out of it. Although if you take the idea of her being envious of Wanda’s simpler life, I could also see Blonda babysit her nephew even after he stopped being popular because she enjoyed feeling like a regular fairy from time to time.

(the way I see it Poof was popular because his birth gave fairies hope that the baby ban was going to be lifted; but when it became clear the Fairy Council had no desire to change their rules, the hype died down and even turned into resentment towards the Fairywinkle-Cosma trio, one of the reasons why Cosmo and Wanda “moved out” of Fairy World once Peri was an adult)

As for how Peri feels about her, I could see him enjoy hanging out with her as a kid and especially as a teen (not sure how to explain it but Blonda strikes me as someone who could get along well with kids, like she’s the cool aunt who also spoils you rotten). But also Blonda doesn’t really have much of a filter when it comes to insulting Wanda so as he grows up and hears more and more of her comments, Peri would get defensive of his mom and spend less time with his aunt.

Tbh he likely already defended his mom as a kid but back then Blonda would just deflect in a “I’m just joking” kind of way and move on to something else, with Peri being too young to know how to properly react. But as a teen, he better understands that he can just leave the room and talk to her less.

And between him not wanting to see her much and Wanda having a bad relationship with her, the last time Blonda saw her nephew before a potential meeting during New Wish would be back when he was like 16-17 (so a good 5-6 years).

Finally for Big Daddy, we see in the og show that Wanda has a good relationship with him for the most part and often writes him letters (he even knew about Timmy). That being said she’s also intimidated by him and is afraid to stand up to him, causing her to lie about Timmy’s personality and hide her marriage.

So my idea for him is pretty similar to Cosmo and his brother. Wanda has a relationship with her father but she’s the one visiting him, mainly because he lives a dangerous life and she doesn’t want to put her family at risk. Also Big Daddy doesn’t like Cosmo so there’s no point in him visiting the guy, and since Cosmo’s terrified of his FIL he’d be more than happy to keep it that way. Maybe sometimes for a family dinner Cosmo’s invited, which is also when he’d interact with Blonda, but Big Daddy would mostly ignore him in those instances.

For Peri tho, since Big Daddy seems like a family man I could definitely see him want to have a relationship with his grandson, and after a while protesting Wanda eventually caves in (since again she struggles with saying no to him). She tries to still keep Peri away for his safety, like not having him every time she visits or keeping the visits short, but yeah Big Daddy would know his grandson and be attached to him.

Once he’s an adult Peri would definitely keep contact with his grandpa, especially since at that point he’d have the maturity to understand the risk (basically staying in contact with Big Daddy would be an informed decision and his own choice).

[lovra974]

Another Barbarian Bakugo [part 2]

Prince Barbarian Bakugo x Dragon Royal Reader ; Dragonshifter Kirishima ; fluff ; implicit smut ; angst ; death of character ; sad ending. It's the last part. Hope you like it !

A lot of mysteries surrounded the L/N Realm.

The tropical forest beated by tempests, the tall mountains screaming in the wind... And the dragon-borns flying in the sky.

Your Realm was a peculiar one. Not so long ago, dragon-borns lived hidden and enslaved. Their scales and horns were tore out to be sold. A tribe was using magic to lock them up, forbiding them to fly.

You were the one who freed them. You were at war with the tribe, they blocked the few commercials road your people used. When you discovered dragon-borns were locked in their caves, you used it.

They are peculiar creatures. The years confined weaken them. You used old magic to help them. Kirishima was the first to follow you. He proposed you something, his dragon being the bigger was the harder to control. By using a link called sibling, you could help him to tame his dragon. You fought together, strengthen by magic and the new link between you two.

You won against the tribe and freed all the dragon-borns, they weren't a lot.

You proposed them citizenship, promising protection and equality with other people. They all agree, but were quite suspicious. They have been locked for years after all.

But through time you won their trust.

Kirishima was your closest friend and one of the representative of his kind in your council. Your people prospered. Your culture and the dragon-born's culture mixed up.

However a problem appeared. The number of dragon-born rised up, while your food reserve didn't evolve. Feeding everybody was becoming quite difficult.

So, when Queen Mitsuki send a letter where she proposed an alliance and the hand of her only son in marriage for your help, you jumped on it. It was the solution.

You heard about the Bakugo’s tribe. Traders talked about the Prince's prodigious swordplay, his boldness in war, his lack of fear. His land was prosperous and fertile contrary to yours. You could feed your people with this mariage.

You asked more information and the traders talked about his spiked blond hair, how he kept his posture against King Enji who has three time his age and experience. Then, a trader talked about his red eyes.

Red eyes were the mark of dragon-borns in your country. You questioned the trader to know if he saw him shift.

"I don't know if he is a dragon, Heir L/N, but he sure fight like one."

You fantasized the man, without knowing it. Some of the oldest called him an ancient dragon soul. And Kirishima called you a lovesick fan, always with a stupid grin. "Come on Eijiro, I'm doing it for the food, you know me." You would say.

You would whispered it when you barged in Todoroki's castle, or when you found the Phoenix' crown. You burned down the castle after making sure everybody was dead. Apparently, King Enji ran away when he learned about the destruction of his fleet but left his children and wife. "Coward" growled Kirishima.

You sent your best trackers at his pursuit and flew to the Bakugo's, the crown safe in an orned box.

Bakugo, from his side, fought his parents. Asking when did they thought they had the right to forced his hand like that, without telling him before.

"Listen at you brat, throwing a tantrum like a spoiled child ! And you thought I would tell you? Knowing how you would react? I am your Queen, Katsuki. And you better remember it. We need this alliance with the dragon riders, you will give it to your people and that's the last time I'll explain it to you!"

The only person to ease his feelings was his father, who like the king he is, guides his steps. He talked to him about you, how you beat him and how trapped he felt.

"They doesn't sound so bad," he murmured. "But you should learn more about them and their culture. Don't let the darkness of ignorance guide you, flames are always better. Even if it burns. It's good their court is arriving tomorrow."

He followed his advice and learning he did. The first thing he did was training with your men. You won't beat him again, he would learn your tricks, your style, how your body glide. Then he learned more about dragon-borns, how you freed them, how you trusted them, how you rode them. He learned about your people who carved mountains and forests, children who trained for the Storm's Rite, dragon-borns who opened to the world and trusted humans with the sibling link.

And maybe, you weren't so bad.

When you came back, a week before the marriage, you bowed down to his parents and yours. He felt strange. A weird sense of giddiness. When you came to training, his own men would blank, they heard so much about you and the "stupid arranged marriage" their leader was forced into. "You know boss, if it's for the country's good, I volunteer to take your place for marriage." said Kaminari. Sero seconded, in case something happened to Kaminari.

Bakugo beated their ass that day, rage in his blood. He didn't know if it was because he felt mocked or because you were watching. But you didn't talk to him.

He didn't go to you either but he expected you to. Even more after he showed off your people's tricks he learned while you were away. But you didn't say anything.

Not until the ceremony, you got the Phoenix crown out of a box and put it on his head.

"How does it feel, to be the first emperor of the continent ?" You pecked his lips. The touch soft, your warmth dicipated as quickly as it came.

The first night, you stayed in your quarter after telling something about the lack of storms.

He learned the next day he was living with you for the Mishae plains. He saw your homeland, you took his hand and ran with him. He hunted with you, cooked with you, flew with you on Kirishima and cuddled with you in front of dragon's flames. You taught him everything, how to care, how to sooth and how to love. He never felt behind with you, always an equal.

He taught you songs his soldiers sang before battle, he taught you how to dress for winter in the Eastern lands, he taught you how to imitate animals to lure them and he taught you how warm he was.

Kirishima was always with him if not with you. The dragon-born trained and laughed with him. Your brother became his brother too.

It isn't until his first storm in your home, that you led him to your bedroom. You kissed him ferocely, touching and molding your bodies. The rain covered your breaths, thunder roaring like you both. It felt intense, like the weather. Rain pouring, wind screaming, clouds lightening. Bakugo finally understood what Kirishima told him : "You have bells during marriage, we don't have those. We only have thunder, it's him who tell us to... Dance." The smirk from the red-head should have led him to this ancient tradition.

You both flew back when your parents told you Enji was coming from the West. He paid mercenaries to take his castle back.

You both flew to the North with soldiers. The mercenaries were from a witch's clan. Their magic was dangerous to dragon-borns, making the fight more difficult. You ran to King Enji, if there was no king, there was no war. While you fought with the Phoenix you didn't see the archer pointing at you.

Bakugo saw it before you. He screamed you name with all his might, alerting Kirishima. You turned uround.

They saw the scene perfectly. The arrow flying, your eyes widening and the silver head piercing your chest. And just to be sure you wouldn't survive, Enji hit you with his sword, your blood poured everywhere.

Red. Red. Red. Everything was red. The earth where you lied. Katsuki vision while he saw life leave your face. He couldn't believe he didn't tell you he love you. And Kirishima flames when he felt the sibling link broke, crushing his dragon soul.

Enji perished in the flames, swallowed by them. How ironic for a Phoenix. But Kirishima was mad, he couldn't control himself.

Bakugo screamed. He poured his broken heart to stop the dragon. He climbed on it, hugging his scales while the dragon tore itself. He murmured, "I know, I know, I know... I need you to come back Eijiro!"

Crying, he used the spell like you taught him. Kirishima clinged on it. They were both hurting, desesperate. When the spell ended, the link was form.

They were sibling.

They left the North to take you back to Mishae. Bakugo and Kirishima swore no witch would ever hurt a dragon, no dragon-born would die of hunger. The empire formed by the South, the East and North would forever remember you like their creator and fierce protector.

He was now Emperor Bakugo, King of the Barbarians and the Dragons. He couldn't have imagine this destiny, and it was all thanked to you.

Tag list : @nnubee ; @phoenix666stuff

Please tell me if the link worked!

[illegally-blind-and-deaf]

Tintin shivered as he left the steamy bathroom, sliding across the wooden floors of the cramped apartment on his socks. It felt as though he had stepped into Antarctica, due to the main radiator being broken. The only other warm room (apart from the tiny bathroom) was his mother's study, from which echoed the soft clicks of keys mixed with the occasional ding of a bell. He twisted the knob quietly, slipping through the small crack in the door. Lamps casted soft pools of golden light across the variety of books resting in shelves, falling delicately around the dark wooden desk; the source of the constant clicks and dings. There sat a woman with her back to the door, her auburn hair falling in the popular gentle curls of the 30s. She had changed from her blouse and woolen skirt into a soft blue dressing gown that reminded Tintin of summer clouds. He began making his way towards her, trying to keep his footsteps as silent as he could. Somehow, the woman managed to hear him and she turned her head, revealing her tortoise shell glasses and the profile of a slightly bent nose. "I can hear you, little duckling."

"There's no way. I was silenter than a mouse!"

"More silent," Lucille corrected, smiling as her son harrumphed his way to her desk. "And you should know by now, having six years' worth of experience living with me, that I have exceptional hearing."

Tintin pouted, moving the loose pages on her desk to create a spot where he could sit. "It's not fair. How am I supposed to play practical jokes on you?"

The soft clicks of her Fountain Writer stopped as she looked at her son. Unfortunately, the gaze of her green eyes reached just past him to a small crack in the wallpaper. "What's not fair is having a depleted sense."

"You're a little off, just look the the left a little more."

She did and Tintin moved his head slightly so they locked eyes. "What's also not fair is you using your blindness for an excuse for everything."

"But it's true," she said simply, resuming her typing. Dots popped up across the page as the needle on the Brailler slid across with a steady tapping. Tintin watched, trying to decipher the story being placed on the page.

"Mama?"

"Yes, my darling?"

"When are you going to teach me Braille so I can read your stories?"

The needle reached the end of the page. Lucille pulled the pocketmarked page out of the machine, placing it on the pile of paper next to her. "How is your reading and writing at school?"

"Don't change the conversation!"

"I'm not. I just want to make sure that you're understanding your schoolwork because if you start learning Braille before you're ready, you will get confused."

"Oh." He sighed, swinging his legs in the air. "Madame Van der Veer says I'm doing very well. She's given me extra work so I don't get bored."

Lucille smiled. "You're a very clever boy, Tintin."

He grinned, revealing the two front teeth that were larger than the rest and jutted out from the otherwise neat row. "So can I learn?"

"I suppose," Lucille sighed. "But you must promise me that you won't get mad when you don't understand it straight away."

"I promise."

"Good. Get me your slate. And dont explode with excitement, please!"

He hurried to the bedroom, pulling the small blackboard and chalkbout of his school bag, then dashed back to the study. Lucille doing it, uttering a soft "thank you" as she divided the dusty surface into six squares. "In Braille, every letter is made out of a combination of up to 6 dots." She scribbled them roughly, not caring if they were crooked or uneven. She couldn't see them anyway. "This is called a Braille cell. Are you following?"

"Mhm."

"Fabulous. Each different dot is called a different number, so the top left-hand dot is dot 1, the one below is dot 2, the next one is dot 3, then it jumps back to the top on the left-hand side and you have dots 4, 5 and 6."

"Okay, that makes sense, now what are the letters?"

"Slow down. Can you pass me a piece of paper and then come sit on my lap?"

He obeyed, watching as she slotted it in to the brailler and moved the needle back to the left. Gently, she took his fingers and placed them on the keys of the brailler. "There are nine keys. These top two are backspace and enter; these three on the left are your three dots on the left of the Braille cell; the same on the right; and the middle key is the space. Understood?"

"Oui."

"Encroyable. Now, your index fingers are the top two dots, the middle fingers the middle two and the ring fingers are the bottom dots."

"When are we learning about the alphabet?"

"I was about to tell you before you interrupted me."

"Oh."

Lucille giggled. "The letter 'A' is a very difficult letter to remember, so listen to me closely."

Tintin straightened, eyes trained on the keys. His fingers were almost too short, but he managed to spread them far enough that they touched one key each.

"'A' is dot one."

He jammed his left index finger into the key, gasping as the brailler made a soft 'pop' and the needle slid over, revealing one singular dot on the page. "Is that it?"

"Yup."

Tintin pouted, blowing a raspberry at his mother. "You lied."

"It was a funny joke."

"It wasn't really-"

Her fingers wriggled into his side's and he squealed, sliding down her lap until his bottom hit the floor. "You're mean!"

Lucille laughed, the laugh that sounded like both a wheeze and a crow. "You said my joke wasn't funny, so who's really the mean one?" She pulled him back up, wrapping her arms around his soft waist. "Lets continue. 'B' is dots 1 and 2. You must press them at the same time."

He did, wriggling with glee as the two fresh dots jumped from under the needle.

"'C' is dots 1 and 4, so use your two index fingers."

And so it went on, all the way through the alphabet until they had reached 'Z'. Tintin couldn't help but grin as he ran a finger along the tiny bumps, studying each letter carefully. "Now what?"

"Now we do it again."

The excitement deflated and he slouched. "But I want to write a story," he groaned.

"I know, but it's like playing the piano. You love your piano lessons, don't you?"

He nodded.

"I'm assuming that you're nodding."

"Yes."

"Good. But, you don't like doing your scales over and over again, do you?"

"Scales are so boriiiiing," he whined.

"But you know why you have to do them?"

He sighed. "So my fingers get nice and strong and I can play quickly and better."

Lucille nodded. "It's exactly the same when you're leaning to write, whether you're writing with a pencil or with Braille. You have to do the basics like writing the alphabet over and over again so you can do better at the harder things. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, Mama. Can I do it again?"

"Yes, but then you have to go to bed, okay?"

"Okay!" Suddenly his fingers are moving again, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. Lucille stroked the little tuft of almost blond hair, turning her head slightly so she could see the few copper strands peeking through the small remainder of her central vision. 'I love you,' she tapped onto the little boy's scalp. 'My little sunshine.'

"Mama, why are you tapping my head?"

"I'm telling your brain that it's time for a little duckling to go to bed,"

"But-"

"Hey, we had an agreement. You break the agreement and I won't teach you any more for the rest of the month."

The words had barely left her mouth when Tintin took off, shooting down the hall like a hare. Lucille laughed, making her own, slower way into the bedroom. "Are you in?"

The rustle of blankets confirmed her suspicions. "Alrighty little munchkin. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Mama," came the sleepy reply.

She kissed him gently on the head. "I love you very much."

"I love you to Pluto and back."

"I love you past Pluto and back again."

"That's not fair. We don't know any planets past Pluto."

"Goodnight. I shouldn't be too long."

He nodded, blowing her a kiss as she felt for the lamp switch. Darkness soon filled the room, embracing the little boy gently as he began to drift into sleep. Lucille crept quietly out of the room, taking one last moment to listen to the soft rise and fall of his breath with a smile.

[moonspirit]

2, 14, 32, 48, 94 (hopefully I didn't mix up the number holly fuck)

-Waif

Hello wafe! This is late, but have it!

2. talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

Oh well xD In VBEOW, during the whole Peace Summit thing (which was for me, the hardest set of chapters to write so far), Armin wasn't actually supposed to get sick and have an emotional breakdown. He was instead supposed to face a real and frightening threat to his life from outside sources. But the longer I thought about it, the more it felt appropriate for his mental health and emotional strength to take a nosedive, sparked by many things and pushed over the edge by a letter from Mikasa, who was (and still is) the one person (apart from Annie) who has the ability to make or break him. Besides it dawned on me that the earlier Annie comes to know of his fear of abandonment, the better it would be for the story as a whole. You can play about a lot with facts once they're out in the open, even if they aren't resolved.

14. what’s your worst writing habit?

Perfectionism xD Literally just that. I set impossible standards for myself and it really hinders my enjoyment of writing, sometimes. Whether its quality or schedule, I'm just too hard on myself when I should probably be kinder. It's... well xD Yeah~

32. do characters influence your writing style?

I think so :O~ Rather I've noticed something like it only after actually putting the work out. With writing Annie, not only is it easier but getting into her lonely and "new-to-everything" headspace, clean narrative structure goes to shit xD With Armin, things are always too complicated, convoluted, and also orderly and neat to the point where I end up obsessing over the execution as a whole.

Writing Armin just makes me hate myself more than necessary xD

48. do you reread your own stories?

Not from the start-to-end sense, but sometimes I'm like "Oh, I remember I had a nice time writing this bit from chapter ___, let's pay it a visit!" and I go skim over that portion. More often than not I stay away from fully re-reading older chapters because I'm scared I'll just hate my writing haha xD

94. do you prefer dialogue or description?

Dialogue! Because as much as I love description, I really enjoy dialogue because it makes me feel like I can make something seem very human and close. The language used to say something, it can be polished and formal to add to an air of seriousness, or it can be relaxed and silly and full of funny cursing that can create a cozy and playful mood. There's also the little non-verbal sounds we make like "mhmm" and "ha" and "mh...?" that I really love to sprinkle like salt too haha xD

Thank you for the ask wife T/////T

[janusflipped]

"I have a message from your father." - for the drabbles.

OOPS! ALL ANGST! PROMPTS Not verse 1... or 2...but a secret 3rd verse...

There was a soft knock at his office door, Two-Face didn't bother looking up from his work and waved a hand, signaling for one of his men to open the door. There was a soft grunt as Spice got up and opened the door.

"Hello, Harvey." It was Oswald, the man gently cleared his throat, a polite way to ask for the other to look up. He didn't, Oswald sighed, "I have a message from your father." He looked up and his eyebrow raised, face curious and now mixed with irritation.

"Sugar...Spice, leave." Both got up and quickly exited the room, promptly posting themselves outside the doors of the office. "Why's that deadbeat talking to you?" He looked back down at his paperwork, the pen scratching away again. Oswald huffed slightly and sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk, setting his briefcase down and his umbrella.

"I couldn't fully tell you. However, I do, have a letter as well. If you're interested in reading it." Oswald held up a letter, it was unopened. "He said "Can you give this to my...Son. He hasn't responded to any of the Letters I sent, I don't have his phone number either." That's all he said."

"I wouldn't give anyone I hate my number." He heard Oswald chuckle. "We do business together, and I hate you less now." He watched the letter enter his line of sight as Oswald slid it over his paperwork. He looked up. "What do you want me to read it right now?" Oswald nodded his head. He sighed and sat up. He sat up and took out his letter opener and opened it. He took out the letter and read it, scoffing occasionally, and then gradually getting angrier. It took all his self-control to not rip it to shreds by the time he reached the end. "This is full of crap." He crumpled it up and threw it into the trashcan missing.

"...Does it have to do with..." He stopped talking as he got a glare shot in his direction. "...Care to talk? We've been friends for a long time now, I know you well enough that this won't leave your mind unless you say something." Oswald was right. He'd stay angry, but it was usually hard to broach a topic such as this.

"He wants me to visit him. So we can be a "family" again. Or "try" to be one. Quite frankly that's fucking impossible... I should kill him."

"That's a horrible idea. However, I won't stop you." He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose then leaning over to pick up the crumpled piece of paper. Two-Face making no effort to stop him. Though he could feel the man's stare follow his movements. "Is what he said really that horrible?" It wasn't a secret that Harvey had a horrible relationship with his father, Harvey often didn't elaborate or offer details of why. He could only make vague assumptions based on passing snide comments or remarks. He hummed as he uncrumpled the paper and read it. There wasn't anything particularly bad, a lot of fluff language was used, and it was manipulative sounding. Harvey was in his 40s... early 40s but it seemed like the man had nothing left and needed care. His only option was his estranged son "I take it that your response wi-"

"Two-Bullets. That'll be his end-of-life care." He took out a gun and loaded it. Oswald let out a hum, no further response beyond that.

[the-firebird69]

Several things in punta Gorda Port Charlotte happening today and they are big they will make change occur here and all over Florida and the world after it is going to be an eye opener for a lot of these sloths

-there is an effort going on to remove people who are criminals by the max the foreigners and we have to tag along and it's happening all over the world and in Florida and it's been happening here as you said earlier there's going to be a huge evacuation and the numbers are getting smaller right now it's probably around 10% 2% of the world will evacuate to the islands and it's the morlock in a mix.

-here in punta Gorda is about 20 projects beginning and it is that group that is coming in because these people are hardly doing anything and they're not really good at it and it is occurring events elsewhere are greatly affecting what's happening here in the upper Midwest and having a huge infight and it translates here and they're not going to crap out of each other and people take advantage of it and knock the crap out of them. They're having a huge fight with clones top side and sent down to Giant number this morning and they should if they get ships and keep them around they be doing better and they like the idea of bombardment because they got bombs recently they lost almost half their people

-there's a huge amount of people getting fired today from their jobs they're going for the rest of them and it is McDonald's doing it and the invite and McDonald's can't seem to get the jobs that they're firing people from and other people are holding them out of them so doesn't seem to be helping but they're pursuing the McDonald's stuff here in overseas and they're forced to do it and in a big scale it's happening today. And the two movies dune begins today the TV series is starting up and the movies will be in about 5 days to a week

-the ship above is still hovering and has not moved and they don't anticipate to move to soon like we said Monday Tuesday might be the launch day for the ships even though they're larger and considerably larger the cycle might be very similar and it has to do with the size my son doesn't really know if it's true or not you have an engine that's bigger now you have to cycle it more so it might be a little longer that's what will and Bill just added of course they might be wrong and things are going that route no usually they're right on and our son is correct and daughter

-there's a couple more things people in the mall are dragging ass last night they had a bunch of fights and they look terrible and think they look good it's horrible and good is just another thing too so we have other things happening and one of them is they're going to renovate the mall the piece by piece in stores are trying to get in because we are renovating and adding things

-along with an evacuation people are going after more lock of any kind just thinking about and they are grabbing them and they are hauling them in. It's wide scale and it's increasing and due to their habits and they're gross and their parasites. There's a few projects that are going on that are making it worse for them hauling out s*** out of the rivers and they're not doing good things with it trying to tamper with food and they're getting kicked out and water and electricity and sewer and they're getting booted out all over the world day by day they have stuff they want and need and they're useless they say so we think of a percentage will drop today and daily because of that alone and forced evacuations they are beginning

-the max delivered their fourth letter last night it is Mac proper and these people are trying to attack them and they keep attacking the McDonald's they say they need their stuff and it's horrible and their losers and they're going to just disappear. And I think they're smart by ignoring the truth and saying things to our son and yeah they're McDonald's. The fifth letter will be delivered tonight as a result of the fourth letter their number of areas that were hit additional to the original 300 and they were about 20 by 30 areas full of people and we're not there and we have to clear and we give the all clear to us and to allow it and we did it for weeks and then immediately before and they wiped them out about 50 of those areas that's a lot and the population of course dropped and it did drop to about 10% it wasn't 20% and the first hit drop them down to 17 from 23 and the second hit drop them down to 10 it was bigger they're delivering that letter tonight it is the fifth letter 5th. There's only two more letters but this letter contains more jargon in it and explains more about why and what they're doing it for and what they expect people to do in order to not get hit even though they're attacking MacDonald's mostly they are still safe that their behavior is provocative and directed against them and they do understand it is both sides do but the max are going to attach we will correspond with the letters when it's issued there's only two more letters but this one has diplomatic information it is explaining to the leaders why the wrong what's wrong with their behavior and why they should be modifying it and it's also saying that their crimes against the realm and against their kind and it is true but they just could not hold their own they needed solutions and they were frustrated and it's both of them but they don't recognize that and take responsibility because they see them as having free will and something they can blame my son for the computer hacking and obviously a lot of people think that stupid and they're saying it right now but yeah this is a diplomatic pouch as well it's really the letter itself but it is speaking to a higher level in other words if you don't back off they said we are bringing it up a notch and we are telling all of your leaders the reasons why and clarifying it and we already know what they're going to write for the most part and we've seen it and the delivery method last time was kind of hairy for them so they are going to deliver it with a difference carrier and it's going to be their own people bringing the letter in and the delivery people are afraid and nervous they don't want to do it and they said they won't be harmed our son and daughter say there's a way to do it is you bring it in a case and the case of scanned and it has the emblem of the macs and it says clearly didn't see a pouch carried my others for them and they do know about it and they've seen it and it helps but really they should know the stuff they hardly know and do anything it is done correctly it's really bizarre. And they didn't have too many skills before it's going on now that they're in trouble and it will be delivered at 9:00 p.m. tonight so far they did not comply with the fourth letter and they're being hit severely it's 10% now it'll probably drop all the another percent from the hits and a percent from international action and possibly a couple percent from action on the phones other than that it's going to be percentage point here and there of a percent they call it a point in trading but that's not what it is it's a percentage of a percent. And it is ongoing we're going to publish now

Thor Freya

There's several things happening here with me I've noticing that they are depleting their forces fast and that's the warlock it means the max are trying to do things before others can mobilize and move and relocate to areas that the max are controlling and I'm writing it up and my husband says that foreigners are aware and they're above the shields and they're confirming they are and they do know what I'm saying is true and we're taking over the areas that they're bombarding lots of them and I know we haven't had but I do see a couple holes in there informing me that's the max and I will send it in and it's going to be helpful

Hera

Good. I have the feeling too but I'm trying to make you feel better because I know that we're doing things but it is best to make sure we have everything covered because it's a finger holder looking for

Zues

Good

Hera

Olympus we are moving on these things and we see her letter we have a lot of it but we are going to put a lot more into it and we do see what she's saying because of the rapid change on this lot of things that they're doing still that need to be picked up and it's so brilliant way of putting it he says and we do too and she thinks this and her husband

[bloodorangesoup]

Ice Cream and Bad TV | B.B.

Request: Late night thoughts : The only porn bucky watches are the ones that come on tv at like 2 or 3 in the mornings. Imagine cuddling up with him on his living room floor, aimlessly clicking around until you stumble upon the channel & he gets flustered & shy about it & you fuck him while porn plays in the background. Like I think it’s so romantic🥺🥺 riding him while the soft glow of the tv illuminates his face. His moans & grunting blending in with the actors 😫😫

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble but I cannot for the life of me control myself)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ | cuddle fucking, unprotected sex(pretend ur on birth control for a sec)(still wrap it b4 your tap it), flustered Bucky, porn talk, the tiniest bit of sub!Bucky for like half a second, fluffy smut, you get the gist

My Masterlist

Notes: I did this in one sitting so sorry if it’s repetitive or has any mistakes. I think I have a major soft sport for flustered Bucky. I also had to think of a realistic name for a TV porn channel so bear with me. This is my first time writing smut in non-headcanon form so let me know how I did! Happy reading!

It was 2am on a Thursday night when your phone rang with your boyfriend's caller I.D. This wasn't the first time that Bucky had called you for this instance, it became a routine for you to talk him down after a nightmare and you prepared to do so when you picked up. Usually the first thing you would hear was his heavy breaths, the anxious buzz in his body making him fumble his words as he tried to focus on talking to you, so you were surprised to be met with still breathing and his typical deep, steady voice.

"Doll? You there?"

"Yeah, Buck, I'm here," you replied with a yawn, trying to sound as awake as possible. Bucky could hear the airiness of your voice and let out a sigh.

"Sorry, baby, I woke you up."

"You say that every time, I don't mind waking up for you. Besides, I don't have work tomorrow so I don't exactly need my beauty rest."

There was a pause. You could still hear static from the other side of the call but Bucky didn't say a word.

"Buck? You okay?" As if you snapped him out of a daydream, his hurried words rushed through the phone.

"Yeah yeah, sorry. I'm kind of out of it right now, I had another bad dream."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You had expected his usual answer of yes, then you would listen to his thoughts and comfort him through the horrific reality that were his nightmares.

"You said you don't have work tomorrow? Do you think you could come over right now? Actually never mind, I don't know what I'm saying, it's 2am." You could practically see Bucky shaking his head as he took back his question.

"I'll be there in twenty, James. You better have some blankets and pillows ready for me because we're taking over your couch."

Bucky let out a breath over the line, "See you soon, y/n, love you."

"Love you more," you said quickly before hanging up, not letting him get in the last 'I love you.'

~

Forty minutes later you found yourself on Bucky's lap on his living room floor. You two had abandoned the idea of the couch and chose to make a small fort with the couch as your scaffolding. There was a surprising amount of pillows and blankets surrounding the two of you, you had no idea Bucky even owned them all.

He sat with his back against the couch, your legs laid over his and your arms were around his neck, bringing his head down to your chest. He talked about his nightmare, sparing you the gruesome details, and once he was done he closed his eyes and leaned further into your chest, breathing in your scent. You gave the crown of his head a kiss and rested your head atop his. Comfortable silence washed over the two of you before you spoke up.

“You know what always makes me feel better?” you asked, lifting your head just enough to look down at him.

“What?” he mumbled into your chest. A soft smile graced your face at his cuteness.

“Ice cream and bad TV!” you announced excitedly before wiggling out of his grasp.

You did a little jog to his kitchen and reached down into the freezer to grab a small pint of ice cream you knew Bucky always kept stashed for you whenever you came around. Picking up two spoons and turning off all the lights in the apartment on your way, you quickly made your way back into the living room, lifting Bucky’s arms to situate yourself back into your position on his lap. You popped the lid of the small tub and handed it to Bucky along with a spoon. With your hands now free, you felt around in the dark for the remote and turned on the TV.

Waiting for the TV to completely turn on, you ate a spoonful of ice cream. You hummed at the taste of the cold sweetness coating your tongue. You gasped as you opened your eyes, finding Bucky scooping out some ice cream and lowering it to your mouth.

“Oh wait, let me make this cuter!” you squealed with your eyes wide.

Copying Bucky’s actions, you took a spoonful and lifted it to his lips, the both of you opening wide and feeding each other. You giggled at the cliché moment and Bucky couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at how adorable you were.

You turned back to the TV, lifting the remote in your hands to change the channel to anything but the news that was already playing on the screen. As you flipped through sports recaps, music channels, infomercials, and movies that were already almost over, you sighed.

“Ugh, there’s nothing good on. Maybe if I start from the end of the list there’ll be better stuff,” you huffed.

Before Bucky could register what you said you had already typed in the biggest number you could enter and began flipping down through channels. Surfing through the empty screens, you landed on one called HotNet and suddenly the screen was completely taken over by a pair of boobs which then cut to a woman on her back and a man on top of her, rutting into her at a slow pace, while her moans echoed throughout the apartment. You quickly shuffled with the remote, trying to turn the volume down from it’s loud setting, spooked at the loud, obscene noise coming from the speaker.

“Oh my gosh, I wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed into Bucky’s chest, “God, I hope your neighbors didn’t hear that.”

Bucky stared at the screen with wide eyes, hoping you would change the channel before noticing that the channel was in the On Demand section. You gasped through your laugh, collecting yourself before turning back to the TV and shaking your head.

“Jeez, I didn’t even know they still had porn like this on public television.” You looked back down at the remote, clicking the Guide button. Bucky’s heart stopped as the description took over the screen, the video still playing in the top right corner. In bold letters the words On Demand titled the card. Even worse, the bottom of the screen displayed a small box containing the information,

$19.99

purchased with debit card xxxx-9758

You furrowed your brows in confusion, realization slowly softening them, before a mischievous smirk took over your face. You lifted your head to look at Bucky, his face looked down at your lap, refusing to meet your eyes. You tapped the bottom of his chin with the remote, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Did you order TV porn, Jamie?” He could hear the teasing tone in your voice, and you only ever used that nickname when joking around, yet Bucky still felt extremely embarrassed. He felt as if he just got walked in on while touching himself. It didn’t help that it was you that saw it, he wanted to crawl in a hole and never look back.

“Ah, you’re blushing,” you squealed as you took his cheeks in your hands, “oh come on, it’s not that embarrassing Bucky.”

“Ugh, can we please pretend you didn’t just see that,” Bucky groaned, closing his eyes to escape your stare. He set down the ice cream next to him and lifted his forearm over his eyes.

You let out a breathy laugh, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself and pushing up to swing your leg under you to the other side of his lap, you straddled him.

“Hey, it’s really not that bad. I mean we’ve had sex before Buck, I think you’d rather have me find this than Sam or someone else.” He let out another groan and lowered his head to lean against your neck.

“Angel, please don’t talk about Sam while you’re on top of me and there’s porn playing on the TV.”

You laughed and ran your hands down his arms, letting one of your hands run up behind his neck and weaving your fingers into his hair. You gripped the back of his head and gently tugged him back up to face you.

“Why,” you sang, deciding to have some fun with him in his flustered state, “is this turning you on?” you whispered the last part.

Before he could respond you leaned down and kissed him. You didn’t bother to start off slow as you usually would, Bucky could taste the hunger from every parting of your lips. His hands gripped your waist, you rocked your weight forwards to rub against him. Bucky’s head clouded, his senses felt overloaded in the best way possible, your movements mixed with the sounds of the moaning coming from the TV were getting him hot. You pulled back before getting too carried away, a smile on your swollen lips.

“So, baby, tell me about it.” You said. It was Bucky’s turn to furrow his brows and he cocked his head to the side in question, mind still foggy from the feeling of you grinding on him.

“What kind of porn do you watch?” you clarified, looking at him like you just asked what his favorite color was.

“Uhm, you want to know about that stuff?” Bucky looked at you with caution, feeling out if he should listen to you or not.

“Well, yeah. I mean I don’t know how it was back then, but most people nowadays watch porn. It’s not super taboo to talk about it,” you explained. You weren’t going to force him to talk about it if he really didn’t want to, but your desire to hear what Bucky was into was strong.

He hesitated for a moment, looking in your eyes and seeing curiosity clouded with lust. He cleared his throat.

“Well, pretty much this stuff,” he gestured with his hand to the TV before putting it back on your waist, “there’s this girl on there, she kinda looks like you, so I buy the videos with her.” He closed his eyes and internally groaned at his words, he didn’t mean to come off so perverted. God, you had already found his porn, the last thing he needed was for you to be thinking he was a creep.

“Y’know that’s actually kinda sweet,” you giggled, “what do you like about those videos?”

Feeling a bit more comfortable knowing you weren’t grossed out, Bucky continued.

“I like the ones where it’s dark and slow. It’s usually quiet and there’s candles and stuff,” he explained shyly. Of all the surprises that came with dating Bucky, you had to admit finding out he was into romantic porn was one of the biggest ones.

Bucky cleared his throat again before questioning you, “Do you watch porn?” He felt almost wrong asking that. He knew that women in this age were more sexually liberated, but the words still felt sticky in his mouth.

“Oh, yeah, of course I do.” Bucky seemed surprised at how casually you answered. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking you to go on.

“Well specifically, I actually really like the videos that are like this,” you said, your head looking down at you straddling him, he followed your gaze, taking in how nice you felt on his lap. You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest. Your faces were so close your noses were almost touching. You could feel his rapid heart beat under your palm and the quick rise and fall of his chest. “Do you ever watch the ones that look like this, Bucky?” He looked up at you and nodded with wide eyes, his pupils were blown and his mouth was open like he was searching for the words to respond.

You grasped his jaw in your hand, your thumb on his chin, and looked him in the eyes. You wanted nothing more than to jump his bones, but with the newfound knowledge you had, you took your time with your actions. Within the last five minutes, Bucky had revealed to you not only that he liked soft, romantic porn, but that he also watched a specific actress because she looks like you. The one goal in your head was to fulfill his fantasy the best you could at the moment.

With his head still in your hand, you held your eye contact as you let your knees move out, grinding yourself against his growing erection. He let out an involuntary whimper. That was the last straw. You pulled his face to yours, joining him in a hard, yet loving kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pushing your chest against his, trying to get as close as possible.

Bucky’s dick was painfully hard. He couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of you on top of him. His body felt like it was on fire, he was insatiably horny and couldn’t control the way his hips bucked up to grind with you. He felt like a horny teenager the way his mind was filled only with images of you naked, imagining you like that on top of him like you were now.

You slipped your tongue past his lips, keeping your pace slow as you glided it across and bit at his lower lip. A moan made its way out of your mouth and into his as you felt him buck up against you.

You slid your hands down his chest, fumbling with the hem of his shirt before his arms raised, giving you access to peel it off him, throwing it up on the couch. Bucky kissed down your neck, licking over the shell of your ear, and sucking at the center of your throat. He reached down and slipped his hands under your shirt, sliding up and down your waist before gliding up and lifting your shirt over your head, discarding it with his.

Bucky wasted no time reaching around you and unclipping your bra and dragging it down your shoulders. He cupped your breasts, squeezing them with his large hands before bringing you into another tender kiss. Despite your frantic movements, there was a spark of passion cracking through the air, the both of you desperate to feel each other closer.

You broke the kiss, breathing heavily and resting your forehead against his.

“I wanna make love to you, y/n, please, let me make love to you,” he groaned with a slight whine in his voice. He sounded like he was about to crack.

“Please, Bucky.”

You leaned back on your hands and lifted your hips, giving Bucky the room to pull down your shorts and panties in a few swift tugs. He quickly got up on his knees and pulled down his sweats and boxers, sitting back down and tugging them off his legs. You reached your arms forward, Bucky grabbing a hold of your wrists and pulling you back to straddle him again. You gasped at the feeling of his cock under your bare pussy, your wetness from all the grinding and kissing making you slide over him.

You leaned forwards, capturing his lips between yours and raising yourself up on your knees. Reaching under yourself, you gripped his cock, wet with your arousal, and lined him up with your cunt. Bucky gripped your hips as you sank down on him, using every ounce of self control to stop himself from rutting up into you. You stayed like that for a second, adjusting to the way he filled you. Seeing the remote lying on the floor, you grabbed it and slightly turned up the volume, only enough so that you and Bucky could hear the actress in the video being ravished by her co-star.

Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you began to slowly move up and down over him, riding him just as you had told him you liked to watch. His hands moved up from your waist, squeezing your tits, pinching your nipples in between his fingers. You let out a hiss as he rolled them between his fore finger and his thumb, tugging on and rubbing his thumbs over them. He reached around to grab your ass, squeezing and rubbing your cheeks and you used him to pleasure yourself.

You were a moaning mess over him and he wasn’t much different. The room was filled with the sounds of the porn playing on the TV mixed with the sounds of your own cries of pleasure. If the neighbors hadn’t been woken up by the TV, they sure were by you two.

Bucky sat back on his knees, his hands slid down to your thighs, moving your legs from under them and wrapping your legs around his back. His arms worked their way back up to wrap around your waist, bringing you ever so close. The new angle pushed him even deeper up into you. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, giving you access to all the sweet, desperate sounds falling from his lips.

You were now pushing up with your feet behind him, rolling your hips over his. The new technique made your clit rub over his pelvis, the sensation making you throw your head back and let out a deep moan. He took the opportunity to continue kissing your neck, going lower with every lick and bite. He sucked at your collarbone, leaving a deep purple mark in its place.

Suddenly, he was using his arms to lift you up, not pulling out of you, and laying you down on the blanket-covered floor. You instinctively locked your ankles together, pulling him closer as he thrusted into you. Bucky had his metal arm holding himself up while his flesh one squeezed your breasts, feeling them move with his thrusts. He lowered his head to your chest and licked one of your nipples, grazing his teeth over it before taking it in between his lips and sucking. Your hands flew to the back of his head, singing praises as you wove your fingers into his hair. He continued to alternate between your breasts, leaving love bites around them and sucking on their sensitive peaks.

You could feel your body buzz with anticipation, you were so close. The moans escaping your mouth were lewd and uncontrolled. Bucky wrapped his flesh hand around your waist, lifting your chest flush against his.

You snaked your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up to kiss him. Nothing felt better than making love with Bucky felt. This was definitely not the first time you two had been intimate, but none of those previous times had ever been like this. You could feel the passion flowing through his body into yours. You looked up at his form over you, how beautiful he looked with the light of the TV screen glistening against the beads of sweat on his forehead. There was absolutely nothing in the world compared to having him, in all his beauty, to yourself like this.

Bucky’s heart was exploding in his chest. What had started out as an embarrassing, nightmare-fueled night had turned into the most intimate experience he ever had in his life. Love was already established in your relationship, but Bucky had never truly made love to you. He looked down in awe at your disheveled state, at the way your hair was sticking to your forehead, at the way the only light in the room gave you an angelic glow. He wanted nothing more than to give himself completely to you, to make you come all over him.

He leaned his forehead against yours, pushing his face forward once every few seconds to kiss you. He was close, and he wanted you to come with him. He leaned into you even more, his cheek pressed against yours, his lips next to your ear.

“I love you so much, y/n, God, you feel so good. I love you, I love you,” Bucky’s voice was deep and strained, his words being emphasized by each push into your wet pussy. You let out another loud moan.

“I love you, James,” you whined as he hit your sweet spot, “I love you so much.”

Bucky’s hand wedged itself in between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit and gently rubbing it. You were completely overwhelmed, this is what it felt like to make love to someone. Your body began to shake and your breathing became erratic. Bucky thrusted harder, working to push you over the edge.

“I want you to come in me, Bucky,” you gasped as his thrusts got faster and lost their rhythm.

Your mouth turned open in a silent scream as you came. Bucky felt your walls clench around him, squeezing the life out of him. He let out a shaky groan as he fell over the edge. His eyes shut tight and his body tensed as he spilled into you.

Wrapping his metal arm around your back and securing your body to his, he rolled on his flesh shoulder onto his back. You went limp against him, laying your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat slow down. He was still buried within you, connected to you. Letting your eyelids fall shut, you savored the feeling of being full of him and his love.

You lifted your head to kiss his jaw.

“I’m glad you called me, Bucky. I love you.”

“I am too, doll. I love you more.”

[libraryofloveletters]

A June Wedding

Evan Buckley x Reader 

Warnings: alcohol and the consumption of 

Category: Fluff 

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: idk what this is, I opened the doc and just started typing, so yeah // the flashbacks are set two years ago, when y/n meets Buck. The end is back to the present

---- 

From B: I was thinking about you.

From B: I miss you. 

The phone sat in your hand, you stared down at the message on the screen. It had been months, maybe longer since you met him-  2 years to be precise. 

The two of you had a weird friendship to say the least. One of those “will they, won’t they?” kind of things. Everyone seemed to notice how the two of you were in love except the two of you. 

Your story starts in a hole in the wall coffee shop two years ago, when Buck comes in after his first shift at the station. 

*Two Years Before* 

Tired and hungry was a typical look you saw among the folks who came to your shop. It was downtown LA and there were a lot of businesses around including station 118. 

Among your typical morning crowd, there were people in suits and ties, the few hippies/skater crowd and your favourite, the fire-fighters. 

They were your favourite not because they always had larger orders but they usually left big tips and were super sweet. 

It was around 9 in the evening when the bell on the door chimed as it was pushed open. You were closing up for the day but the ‘come in, we’re open’ sign still hung on the window that was ideally supposed to be taken down an hour ago. 

Pulling a tray of cookies from the oven, you were startled by the door considering that you thought you locked the door. Peering from the doorway of the kitchen, there was a man by the counter, staring up at the menu board. 

“Hi,” you smile, hesitantly stepping towards the counter from the kitchen. He glances down at you and smiles, mumbling a hello. 

“Uh, we’re actually closed right now.” you inform him. 

His brows furrow, glancing over his shoulder at the window. “But the sign-” “I forget to take it down.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry, I’ll- okay, I'm gonna go.” he looked.. disappointed. He pulls a phone out his pocket and sighs. You take that moment to study him. A grey sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, there’s a hat sitting backwards on his head and a duffle bag tossed over his shoulder. As he turns to leave, you notice the 4 letters written on his hat in bright red - LAFD. 

“Hey!” you call out, “You’re a firefighter ?” 

The blonde smiles and nods, “yeah, I started today actually. The guys at the station were talking about the coffee shop down the street. I didn’t get a chance to come during the day so I thought I'd come now- but I can come back another time, you’re closed”

Waving off his statement, you pick up a cup from the counter. “Nonsense, I'd never turn away one of the city’s finest.” you smile, he chuckles. “The city’s finest is more of a cop thing.” he tells you. 

“Is that so ?” asking, you begin looking through the fridge to see if there was any milk, he hums. 

“I think you’re pretty fine yourself” you mumble, standing straight when you realize what you’ve said. Your back was to him, a blush burning up your face. 

What you didn’t know was that Buck was blushing too, a pretty person like you calling him fine was surely going to make him blush and that it did. 

Clearing your throat, you turn to face him again. He was looking anywhere but at you for the moment. 

“What can I get you ?” 

“What do you have right now ?” 

“Just about everything, except for baked goods. I usually put those in the oven in the morning but I do have a tray of cookies if you’re interested.” 

“That sounds good,” he smiles at you. “I’ll take a cookie and uh-” glancing up at the menu, “whatever is your favourite drink” 

Humming, you turn and head to the kitchen to get two cookies for him and then begin mixing some coffee and creamer in a cup, along with ice and some caramel sauce. You ended up making two, one for him and one for you. 

The man was sitting at one of the stools by the window. He was watching the cars drive past. “Here,” you slide the plate over to him and set the cup beside it. 

He smiles, “thank you. How much do I owe you ?” he asks, reaching for what you assumed was his wallet. “Oh, don't worry about it. The register is locked and it’s your first time here, I wouldn’t have charged you anyways” 

“You don’t charge first time customers ?” 

“Only the firefighters, y’all hold a special place in my heart” you laugh, he smiles once more. 

“Are you in a hurry to leave? I can take it with me if you are.” 

“No, you're alright. The cookies are warm, I just took them out when you got here.” you sit beside him, taking a sip of your drink. He also takes a sip of his, you watch as his face twists and he smacks his tongue to try and figure out what it is. 

“I call it the y/n special” filling him in, his brows furrow. “It’s basically just caramel ice coffee” a small laugh passes your lips as you take another sip.

“I’m y/n by the way.” “I’m Buck” he smiles.

--

From that day, Buck was a regular in your shop. You made him a regular coffee before his shifts, 2 cream and 3 sugars - you've come to realize he had a bit of a sweet tooth.  After work, he’d stop by for an iced coffee and a cookie. You’d always keep some in the back for him. 

This became a routine, you asked him for his number so he could let you know when he was on his way to work that way you’d have his coffee ready if he was running late. 

Most mornings you’d just get an ‘coming’ or a little fire truck emoji letting you know he’s on his way to work. 

Over the next year and a half, the two of you became close. All the guys that came in from the station always teased you about your “boyfriend Buck” although he wasn’t your boyfriend. 

The two of you were close, you hung out all the time - when Buck had days off, he’d still stop by the shop for coffee or just to see you even though he lived in the opposite direction. He would also pick you up after work when you could walk home because you lived down the street. 

You often stopped by the station when you knew they were on a 24 hour shift. Buck would text you hourly with whatever he was thinking about, especially during the nights when most of his team was asleep and he couldn’t. During those 24 hour shifts, the last few hours kicked their asses, everyone was tired and too lazy to move to do anything about it- those were the days that you headed into the shop early to get some stuff together to take over for them. 

Over time, the affection between the two of you became clear to everyone but the two of you. 

You only really noticed you liked him after his unfortunate run in with the fire truck and his promotion which you decide to celebrate with him. 

There you were, a bottle of champagne in one hand and a bag of Thai takeout in the other - the perfect thing to celebrate his new- temporary as he kept reminding you- position. 

He had invited you over to watch a movie but life was short as was recently reiterated after Buck’s “getting stuck under municipal equipment” phase as the two of you joke. 

“Hey!” he smiles at you when he opens the door, immediately noticing the bottle of champagne in your hand. 

“The nice stuff,” he hummed, stepping aside so you could come in. You set the bag on the counter with the bottle before venturing further into the kitchen to find glasses. 

“What are we celebrating ?” he watches as you tumble through the cupboards. 

“Y/n?” “What ?” 

“What are we celebrating ?” he asks once more. 

“Do you not own any champagne glasses ? All I can find are solo cups and those ugly ass mugs you have.” sighing, you grab the solo cups knowing his answer already. 

“Y/n/n, I'm a 20-something year old guy living by himself-” “What makes you think I have such things?” finishing off the sentence for him which makes him laugh. 

Setting the cups down on the counter, you push the bottle over to him. “Would you be so kind as to do the honours?” you hop onto the counter. Buck peels the casing from around the top and then shakes the bottle. 

Your brows furrow, “that’s going to make a mess-” before you finish your sentence, the bottle pops. 

The cork ends up somewhere in the apartment whilst the very expensive champagne is sprayed everywhere. Buck just so innocently titled the bottle your way, soaking you in the liquid. 

Laughing, you pull the bottle away from him. He's standing in front of you when you grab his chin, pulling him towards you. Your left hand is cradling his jaw and leaning his head back to pour some of the champagne in his mouth. You over poured and split it on his shirt. 

The two of you were a laughing, sticky mess and the bottle was already half way empty. He held the cups out for you, letting you pour some into each cup before handing you one. 

“Okay, now will you tell me what prompted the champagne showers ?” he smiles, leaning against the counter next to you. 

“Well, life is short. You’re a fire Marshall now so, I’m here to celebrate.” 

Buck smiles at you, he wasn’t the biggest fan of his new job to be honest. Sure he liked it, but he’d do anything to be back out in the field. 

Your arm stretched out, “So to you Mr. Evan Buckley, wait should I say Fire Marshall Buckley ? Anyways congratulations my love, you deserve the job but if the power goes to your head, I'm putting you in your place.” laughing, you bump your cup to his. 

“To a speedy recovery and hoping for your return to the field soon because you’re driving everyone mad. Cheers!” 

Both taking a sip before Buck hops up onto the counter beside you. He shifted slightly, making a gap between the two of you and pulling the bag of takeout to the spot. Dinner was had on the counter, eating straight out of the containers.

“Bobby would be so upset if he saw us right now.” Buck mumbles, his mouth full. 

“Mhm but he’s not here. He doesn’t have to know.” 

A few moments later, his phone began ringing. He pulls it out and his eyes widen. There’s a confused look on your face, waiting for him to give you some context or tell you who’s calling. Finally he shows you his phone. 

Bobby is calling. 

“You summoned him!” Buck shouted. You resisted the urge to laugh. 

“Answer the phone!” 

You watch as Buck answers the phone, holding back his laughter at the conversation moments ago. He looked happy, you loved seeing him like that. The way his eyes glimmered when he smiled that million dollar smile of his, how his curls showed when his hair was wet or if he hadn’t cut his hair in a while. 

It was the little things that made you fall in love with him. 

He was still on the phone when you decided you’d find something to change into. 

He watched as you made your way to the bathroom, coming back out shirtless with a towel in your hand, drying off. He noticed the way you took a step every two steps like he does. He could hear you humming from upstairs, the way you went up in pitch when you saw something you liked or how you’d stop in-between to start whistling. He smiles to himself as he ends the call. 

He too had fallen love with you somewhere along the line. 

----

You watched as the little bubbles popped up on the screen on and off for the next few minutes. 

Today was your wedding day. 

You hadn’t spoken to him all day, things had been hectic. You promised to see him before you got married but truthfully, you had been so consumed with planning and making sure everything was ready that you didn’t get a chance to. 

Your friend comes in, sticking their head in and smiling at you. “You ready ?” they ask, you hum before taking one more look at the phone. 

“As ready as I'll ever be.” 

It was a hot summer day in June, you and your fiancé had decided on an outdoor wedding considering you had always wanted a June wedding. 

Standing at the end of the aisle, each side of the yard was filled with people you loved and cared about but your love was smiling at you on the verge of tears at the altar. 

Resisting the urge to laugh at him, you smile as the music begins playing - your cue to make your way down the aisle. Making it to the end without tripping, you smile at him. 

“Hey,” you smile, reaching for his hand.

“You look beautiful” he smiles, he leans forward to give you a kiss when a hand against his chest stops him. 

Bobby gives him a disapproving look, “I’ll be fast but you gotta wait to the end to kiss them, Buck.” The statement earned him a laugh from the crowd. 

The heat was getting to everyone including the two of you so Bobby skipped over the unnecessary parts, letting the two of you say your vows. 

You started, your hand giving his a squeeze. “The day you walked into the shop, I thought ‘damn, I'm gonna die. Why do I always forget to lock the door?’ but little did I know, it was going to be the love of my life walking in. From the moment we sat down and started talking was the moment I knew you were the one- you made me smile, laugh, gave me butterflies but you also made me feel safe, like I could tell you anything and you’d always be there for me. I watched you walk out with the promise of coming back in the morning and I knew then, we were gonna have a June wedding.” you laughed. 

“You taught me what love was, how to be happy, to never give up no matter what life throws my way because for the last 2 years, that’s what I've watched you do and I'm so incredibly proud to be marrying you. There’s no one else for me. It’ll always be you.” you smile, blinking back the tears. 

“How am I supposed to compete with that ?” he hums, giving you a grin. 

“Everything about you is.. perfectly imperfect, in every single sense of the term. You strive for perfection, but you come up with a slightly different version every time and I love that about you- like when you run out of breath while singing you start whistling so you don’t lose the melody, it’s the little things that make me love you. You hold the stars and the moon, you’re my whole world y/n, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You make me a better man and I could never thank you enough for that.” Both of you are about to cry, looking at each other with the most love and adoration in your eyes. 

Bobby cuts to the end, both of you now impatient and waiting for him to announce that you were officially a couple and the moment he does, Buck pulls you towards him, kissing you like it was the last time he was ever going to. 

The sound of clapping and cheering filled your ears, making you both smile as your made you way back down the aisle officially as the Buckleys. 

---- 

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @dralexreid @keenmarvellover @beth-winchester21 @fernandaweasley2 @yikesyikesyikes95 @hotchsdarling @duhbar1975 @hailsstormthings @averyhotchner @captainxholmes @venusrosepetal @luke-alvez @looney-literature @caitsymichelle13​ @artemishunter18 @multibuckley 

[nerdygaymormon]

what were the basketball boycotts in the 70s? you mention it in your tags and I don't know what that's referring to.

Actually, it was @mormonmonastery who mentioned the basketball boycotts of the 1970's.

The important background to know is that the Civil Rights Movement in the USA during the 1950's & 1960's changed attitudes of Americans who came to see racism as wrong.

Society adjusted and became more inclusive, BYU did not, primarily because of the LDS Church's ban on people of African descent (Black people) from the temple or from even having the priesthood. Critics began to focus on Brigham Young University and its athletic program. BYU came to be seen as a symbol of LDS racist discrimination.

College athletes were uncomfortable playing BYU because they had serious moral disagreements with BYU and the church it represented. I'll include a few items about BYU's racist attitude so it's clear what the school represented and then also include the athletic boycotts of BYU from the late 1960's and early 1970's

1960 - BYU hired Edward O. Minor from Florida A&M University to teach during summer school. Ernest Wilkinson, president of BYU, didn't want a Black man mingling with students and so changed the assignment from teaching to advising departmental administrators

1960 - A Black student had been a candidate for vice presidency of a class and lost but received a large vote. Harold B. Lee, an apostle, wrote to school president Wilkinson to say "if a granddaughter of mine should ever go to the BYU and become engaged to a colored boy there I would hold you responsible." To which President Wilkinson retorted that Elder Lee should blame himself because he's part of the Board of Trustees who permitted the admission of Black students

1963 - Church president David O. McKay approved awarding a BYU scholarship to a student from Nigeria. Eventually 3 Nigerian students received the scholarship before the program was discontinued, the effort to end the program led by Harold B. Lee

1965 - President Wilkinson met with BYU's athletic staff which was debating whether to recruit 2 Black LDS church members to the football team. President Wilkinson declared they should go to another institution and BYU athletics announced it limited recruiting to "non-negro athletes."

1965 - All Black applicants to BYU received a letter to say that BYU doesn't approve of marriages of people outside their race and won't support "mixed courtship" (dating between the races)

1968 - Martin Luther King Jr. is murdered. The school newspaper, the Daily Universe, barely covers his death, and that becomes a story.

Dr. King's death solidified Black unrest into a tidal wave of resistance, protest, and demonstration.

1968 - A track meet was scheduled in Provo, UT between BYU and the University of Texas El Paso (UTEP). The Black athletes on the UTEP track team let their coach know they intended to boycott the meet. The coach threatened to kick them off the team. The 7 Black students refused to yield, did not go to Provo to participate in the meet, and were kicked off the team. UTEP President wrote to President Wilkinson and said until BYU has at least 1 Black athlete, BYU was going to be a thorn in the side of the Western Athletic Conference (WAC).

1968 - BYU has 1 African-American student enrolled

1968 - BYU's football team played at San Jose State College. San Jose State had tried to cancel the contract with BYU as the students were against playing a school that supported racism (2 months prior, 2 runners from San Jose State had raised blackgloved fists on the winners' podium of the Olympics in silent support of human rights worldwide and this galvanized the school to do more). The game wasn't cancelled, but BYU showed up to signs calling out the racial bigotry of Mormonism.

1969 - BYU's Board of Trustees limits the number of Black speakers at BYU to 2 per year

1969 - Organized by the school's Black Liberation Organizational Committee, 250 protestors gathered outside the stadium at Arizona State to heckle BYU players and fans, they waived signs and passed out leaflets

1969 - The University of Wyoming Black Student Alliance called for a boycott of the football game against BYU. 14 Black football players wore black armbands on game day as a protest against BYU. Wyoming's coach immediately kicked them off the team. The story made national news.

1969 - Student officials at Arizona and New Mexico passed resolutions calling for a ban of all future athletic competitions with BYU

1969 - BYU football played UTEP and there were some protests at the stadium

1969 - San Jose State's football team played against BYU in Provo and all members of San Jose State's football team and coaching staff wore black armbands as a protest against BYU's and the Church's racism

1969 - Stanford University shocked college sports by announcing it would schedule no new athletic, or other events, with BYU because of the Church's discrimination.

With the end of the football season, protests shifted to BYU's basketball team

1970 - The 3 Black starters for the University of Arizona's basketball team wore black armbands. At halftime, 9 Black students walked onto the court in protest of the LDS Church's racial policies and poured lighter fluid on the court and set it on fire.

1970 - BYU gymnastics competed against the University of Washington. During the match, protestors threw ketchup, salad oil and eggs onto the mat. Washington's vice president announces that after fulfilling existing obligations, the university would not enter into any additional contracts for sporting events with BYU

1970 - BYU's basketball team played at Colorado State. As BYU warmed up, spectators yelled at them. At half-time, the BYU Cougarettes performed and more than 100 students walked onto the court and surrounded the Cougarettes, shouting curses at them. Protestors in the stadium threw raw eggs and loose debris, and a Molotov cocktail landed on the floor and didn’t burst into flames but leaked flammable liquid onto the court. Security officers cleared the floor, which was cleaned up and the game resumed.

1970 - BYU played the University of Wyoming. Demonstrators were in attendance waiving signs, and when the national anthem played they turned their back to the flag.

1970 - BYU basketball team played UTEP where there were signs and banners against them and the church

1970 - BYU basketball is at New Mexico. Some students refuse to stand for the national anthem or turned their back on the flag. Then protestors tossed raw eggs, lettuce and liquid-filled balloons onto the court. It took 40 minutes to clean before the game could begin

1970 - BYU basketball participated in the Rainbow Classic at the University of Hawaii, but Hawaii announced it would not schedule any future athletic events with BYU.

1970 - Brigham Young University announces its first Black faculty member, Wynetta Willis Martin in the College of Nursing.

1970 - Students at University of Southern California and Oregon State University protested at BYU basketball games.

1970 - BYU recruits its first Black athlete, Ron Knight transferred from Northeastern Oklahoma A&M College to play football at BYU.

1971 - Bennie Smith, a defensive back from Arizona, transferred to BYU and joined the football team as its second Black player.

1974 - BYU has its first Black basketball player, Gary Batiste.

1976 - Robert Stevenson became BYU's first elected Black student body officer

1977 - BYU basketball gets its second Black player, Keith Rice.

By June 1978, BYU boasted 4 Black athletes

June 1978 - The LDS church stuns everyone by lifting race-related restrictions.

1979 - Stanford renews relations with BYU

The protests against BYU athletics in the late 1960's and early 1970's brought lots of attention to the LDS Church's racist policies and defined what BYU stood for in the minds of many.

All these events caused frequent discussion by the BYU Board of Trustees of what to do to counter the impression that the rest of the country had about the church and BYU.

BYU was able to diffuse a lot of the rhetoric and protests when it started recruiting Black athletes, allowing Black speakers on campus, hiring Black faculty and taking other steps forward.

————————————————————

I would like to see universities stop playing BYU until it stops discriminating against LGBTQ students. And every away game that BYU plays should be that school's official Pride night game. Bring attention to the issue and tie BYU's image to its discrimination

[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée - Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer write letters back and forth, both of them slowly starting to fall in deeper. Category: Smut (18+) Content Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, masturbation (male and female), sexting, face sitting Word Count: 6.3k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello!! Sorry this has been so long in the making, but for a while my inspiration for this story absolutely disappeared, and then I tried to think of how to bridge the previous chapters to the final one with absolutely no luck. And then I re-read Part 2 and got stuck on the letter, thus this chapter was born! I didn’t want to drag this miniseries out any longer than 4 parts, and the letter format combined with other inner monologuing and description really allowed me to do that in an interesting way that hopefully doesn’t feel rushed! 

It was so much fun and very refreshing to write. I hope you like how it turned out!

Thank you all for being so patient while I get my shit together 😅 Love you guys! Enjoy 🥰

***

We've been sending letters back and forth for about a month now.

If I'm being honest, it took me about two weeks to decide whether or not I actually wanted to send one back, but could you blame me?

Here was this guy I couldn't stop thinking about after a one-night stand, only for him to catch me—months later at the same exact bar we'd met in—flirting with his friend. And then after our sexual encounter that night, all the things we said, the connection I thought we had, all of it...

He left it all behind the next morning, only to send me a letter in the mail.

I was pissed.

Sure, it was a nice letter, but the fact that he'd reduced what we had down to a piece of paper and scribbled ink had made me angrier than I cared to admit.

In retrospect, I may have overreacted.

Over time I started re-reading his words, and the more I thought about it all, the more I started to regret my anger. And more than anything, I just wanted to see him again. I couldn't stay mad at him, not when all I could picture was his pouty face and nervous hands. His sunbeam of a smile peeked through the clouds of my anger here and there, and the longer it settled, the more it bathed me in a warm light that should have made me happy. But all it did was make me long for him.

Once I'd actually started writing that first letter back, I wondered why I hadn't jumped on the opportunity in the first place. I mean, after all the cliché shit we'd experienced in our short relationship thus far, adding love letters to the mix was just as perfect as you could get, right?

Spencer,

I'm sorry it's taken me this long to finally write you back. Truthfully I wasn't sure I wanted to write you at all, but your letter kept drawing me back in. I couldn't stop re-reading it, imagining you sitting down somewhere and contemplating every word as you wrote them down. I wondered if you'd thrown out hundreds of pieces of paper after messing up when you could have just as well typed out a letter without wasting them.

And then by that point, all I could think about was just you.

I always pictured what your living room looks like, or your kitchen table, or your office, or wherever you sit down to write. I wondered if you looked like one of those hopeless writers in the movies that have a scruffy face, coffee stains on their white tee shirts, and messy hair that hasn't been washed in days due to lack of inspiration.

But in the end, the image that won out over all the others was just you as I remember.

I'm not going to lie, that image most of the time was your body above mine while I held my hand to your throat, but for the sake of romance I guess I should probably tell you what it was every other time— the outfit you were wearing the first time we met.

When I think of you, I think of your hand nervously clutching that beer bottle for dear life and the other one occasionally pushing your glasses up your nose. I think of your eyes every time they'd look away from me, probably to keep yourself from staring too long.

But the thing that always gets me the most is your smile— even when it comes in little flashes, after you've said something you probably thought was lame. You covered it up with that perfect smile.

I've dreamt of that smile nearly every night since I met you, and I wouldn't be opposed to seeing it in person again.

I'd love to meet you for dinner some time.

But since you did manage to "more or less abandon me twice now", I think it's only fair that you make it up to me first.

Make the next letter a good one, and we'll see what happens.

Yours, Y/N

P.S. I hope my handwriting is as pretty as you hoped. I'd hate to disappoint.

***

Y/N,

I'm incredibly grateful that you've given me a chance to redeem myself. Every night since I last saw you has also been spent wondering what your house looks like on the inside... What you looked like reading my letter (perhaps at your kitchen table?)

And this might sound silly, but I've also wondered what your bedroom looks like. You may be laughing at me, because I've been in your bedroom, but in my defense I was a bit preoccupied to really take notice of my surroundings— I was simply surrounded by you.

But since I've been to your home, I figured it was only fair that I invite you to mine, possibly for dinner. I don't know how to cook much— in fact I'm pretty awful at making anything that's not a can of Spaghetti-Os... But one of my co-workers is an excellent chef, and with a recipe from him and some practice under my belt, I'm sure I can pull it off.

But by "some" practice, I mean probably weeks or months of practice. So hopefully that gives you ample time to mull it over.

Perhaps in the meantime we can get to know each other through our letters. And who's to say, it might spare us the awkward "getting to know each other" stage of a first date. Though, pretty much every stage of every date is awkward for me, so it might not help at all.

Regardless, I'm very much looking forward to hearing from you again.

I do get called away for work quite often, however. So I apologize in advance if I can't get back to you as soon as I'd like.

But in any instance, you're still welcome to text message or call me. I know it isn't as romantic or personal as handwritten letters, but it's certainly practical.

Yours, Spencer.

P.S. Your handwriting is just as beautiful as I'd imagined it would be. And you could never disappoint me.

That being said, if you somehow decide that this letter wasn't up to your standards and reject my offer, I may just find myself in the deepest despair imaginable.

***

I was definitely way too in my head about this.

It was just a text. Sure, it was a risky text to send, but I had no doubt in my mind that it would be fine in the end.

So why was my stomach churning just thinking about sending it?

Some might have chalked it up to my fat ol' crush on Spencer, but I knew it ran deeper. It had to do at least a little with my history with Patrick... The man stood me up and sent divorce papers to my place of work rather than to my face... And as much as I liked to think I was completely over it, we'd been together for years, and it really did a number on me.

I didn't want to ruin this new thing with Spencer so badly that I was overthinking everything.

So even though I could see his face opening the text, my heart doing jumps at the mere thought of it, a bigger part of me worried that it would be a step too far in the wrong direction. I didn't want him to think I was only in this for... sexual reasons. Which, don't get me wrong, have been pretty damn great so far, but I really did want to get to know him and see where this went.

In the end I decided to hold off. I settled for something a little lighter.

Spencer,

Don't feel too bad about your cooking skills. I've been through my fair share of burnt frozen pizzas to know how you're feeling. So the fact that you've given yourself the opportunity to practice and learn a recipe just for me is extremely romantic, and I appreciate the thought.

I won't stop you from following through, though I'm telling you now that no amount of slaving away in the kitchen will make me change my mind about you. We could probably eat stale crackers on the floor and I'd still find you utterly fascinating.

Maybe that's a bit too extreme, but I hope you get my point.

Anyway, I'd love to come over for dinner some time. Whenever you think you're ready to show me those improved cooking skills, you just let me know and I'll happily make my way over.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of sending more with my letters. I don't want to give away too much, but I will say that I'm very crafty. And don't feel like you need to send anything in return, though I'll let you know if I ever change my mind.

Yours,

Y/N

***

In the bottom right corner of the letter, right next to her signature, was a red lipstick stain in the shape of... well, her lips. It was common sense to know that they were hers and no one else's, not just a stamp or a drawing, and rather her actual lip stain... But even without it, I would have been able to tell by their shape.

Was that pathetic?

I could hear her, picture her in front of me, hovering above me with red-painted lips in the shape of a smirk, visibly cooing as she called me names... I could feel the ghost of her fingertips trailing up my throat and tilting my chin up to look at her as she rocked her hips teasingly into mine...

The whine I let out truly was pathetic.

You pathetic, needy little thing, I could hear her say...

My hands clutched the paper so tightly I thought I'd tear it, but it didn't matter when all I could see while staring at it was her luscious, red lips... Her voice was right there in my ear, like she was really beside me, watching me...

Oh, God, what would she do if she saw me right now? Staring at her lipstick stained paper and subconsciously grinding down into my chair...

You pathetic, needy little thing...

My hips jolted with a small, broken shout of her name, and in no time the front of my pants were flooded with warmth. I felt her eyes burning into me from the void, sparking to life with amusement as her voice crept into the deep corners of my brain and whispered praises to me.

Ohh, what a good little whore... Getting off to the thought of me... That's it, sweet boy... Come for me...

By now my eyes had squeezed shut and the letter was crumpled in my hand, the other reaching down to add much-appreciated burning friction to my crotch as I rode out my orgasm. My whole body tensed and shuddered at every sensation, from Y/N's image behind my eyes to the sweet warmth that pooled in my underwear and soaked through onto my hand.

Holy mother of—

The next time I saw her, I was screwed. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. I'd surely go red the second I laid eyes on her, and she'd know right away what I was thinking and feeling.

Simply put, it scared and excited me at the same time.

She'd utterly and thoroughly wrecked me, and if she didn't already know it, she certainly would soon.

Y/N,

I'm not sure what you intend to send in addition to your letters, but if it's anything near the sentiment of your lip stain, then you might have to refrain in favor of my poor, fragile heart.

See, it aches for you. It's bad enough I think of you always, but the moment I saw the shape of your lips on that letter, my heart almost shot straight out of my chest. Maybe it was the familiar shape of your lips or the implications of its place next to your name, signed after the word 'yours', that sent me into a tailspin, but whatever the case...

I'm pretty sure I've completely fallen under your spell.

I suppose I should also tell you that my heart wasn't the only part of my body that came to life at your added signature. I assure you, it took no time at all for me to come undone at the thought of your lips pressing gently against the paper, imagining that they were instead pressing to my skin... I didn't even have to touch myself, really. It just happened. Because of you and you alone.

I hope that wasn't too forward, but I felt it necessary that you know just how much of an effect you have on me.

If I could see you again in a millisecond, it wouldn't be soon enough.

That being said, I am determined to spend as much time as possible to perfect this dish for our dinner. Because you deserve nothing but the best, even if you insist that you could settle for less.

It's the least I can do.

Yours, Spencer.

And a week and a half later, when I didn't get a letter back on time, I was sure I'd messed up for good.

My mind was racing a mile a minute, yelling at myself for even thinking for a second of being that detailed in a letter without any consent. Sure, she'd taken it a step up by signing off her letter with a kiss, but I'd been absolutely idiotic in telling her that I got off to it.

I was honestly well and truly prepared to show up at her house with a big bouquet of flowers and an apology so wordy and probably too long for anyone's liking, in hopes that she'd forgive me for making this huge mistake.

Thankfully, though, it wasn't needed.

My phone chimed as I was pacing, my lip near bloody with how hard I'd been chewing at it, and I saw an unknown number attached to a text message and photo attachment.

The photo wouldn't load (I would have to plug it into my laptop and transfer the image there to see it— a fact which always irked Penelope to the core), but with the sentences I saw above the file, I almost knew exactly what I'd find when I had the means to see it.

There. Now we're even... Who says text messages can't be romantic and personal? XXX, Y/N

I felt like Bambi as I scrambled to my laptop three rooms over, stumbling over weak legs with my phone clutched tightly in my hand. My heart raced faster than it ever had as I started everything up and retrieved the right cord for my phone. With a few shakes and stumbles here and there, I briefly entertained the idea of upgrading my phone.

I probably would have left the apartment to do it immediately after seeing her photo attachment, but the moment it loaded up on my screen, my brain and body lost all ability to function properly.

A familiar burn coursed through the lower half of my body and tightened my chest at the sight of her, open and exposed and... wet.

My laptop screen was completely taken over by the image of Y/N's pussy, visibly glistening and aroused. A manicured hand—her hand— was in frame as well, middle finger resting snugly between the supple skin of her wet lips.

The fact that I only tasted her once felt downright cruel.

I tried to imagine it again— my face buried between the softness of her thighs. As much as I wanted to lay her down and indulge myself as long as possible, taking all the time in the world to slowly devour her and truly explore her for myself, what ran through my mind then was something more in the vein of our dynamic thus far.

My mind wandered, specifically to a place where I was the one laying down as she sat down directly onto my face and gave me what she thought I deserved. My hands were tied to the bed, maybe handcuffed. All I knew was that I couldn't touch her, and it bothered me. So I whined, and every time the sound left my mouth, she would let up, lifting further out of reach and causing me to instinctively reach my head up to chase her.

You greedy little slut... Take what I give you...

Desperately seeking her approval, I told her I'd be good and rejoiced when she lowered herself down to me again, allowing me to me completely wrapped up in her once more. My tongue lapped and lapped, gathering as much of her as I could before she'd inevitably leave again.

But she never did.

Somehow I kept my quiet, even though it was extremely difficult, and ate her out like my life depended on it. She glided smoothly over my face, coating more than just my lips in her arousal, and it thrilled me to my very core.

Every time I breathed in I could smell her, every time she groaned out my name my stomach fluttered, and it wasn't long before she was clutching my hair, shaking above me while I drank her in and repressed my whines.

My hips were uncontrollable though, bucking up into nothing and begging for any type of stimulation.

But then suddenly it was there— Her hand, firmly wrapping around my dick and gliding over it beautifully with a slickness that she must have transferred from her pussy. I could still taste her as I cried out her name, her movements quickening with every second until—

I didn't even realize I was actually alone until my eyes opened, cum coating my hand, my heartbeat heavy and loud, and the laptop screen in front of me a shade darker signaling a long period of inactivity.

I'd done it again...

And now we most certainly were not even.

I glanced over at my phone—plugged into the laptop—and then down at my lap, and my stomach knotted as my next move rang clear as day.

***

I woke up the next morning to texts from Spencer, and my heart picked up speed, a gentle warmth blooming through my chest at the sight.

I thought maybe he'd thank me for the photo I'd sent. Maybe he'd return it with an influx of messages along the lines of Oh my god, Holy fuck I miss you, and the like.

But what I wasn't expecting was to see a photo in return, of his hand that I'd dreamt of nearly nightly, wrapped firmly around his cock and all of it completely covered in cum.

Below the photo were three messages in a row, and each one gave me more butterflies than the last.

Sorry for low quality. No smartphone.

Also sorry we're not even anymore.

But I'm not sorry I did it- you're too perfect to resist.

***

Dearest Y/N,

I'm sorry you haven't gotten a letter from me in a while. And I know we've kept in touch through texting and calling while I was swamped at work, though now that I have some time off, I'd love to write you again. As much as I enjoy our virtual conversations, I still find sending letters to be my preferred method of communication (only second to speaking with you in person, that is).

Which brings me to the main point I'm trying to make.

I want to see you again. In person. I'm not completely confident in my cooking ability yet, but if you wouldn't mind the potential of it tasting awful, I'd love to have you over. I promise you nothing but the best, and I know that's a high promise, especially considering I probably haven't sold you on the meal, but it's true.

I'd do anything to please you.

And I really do mean 'anything', I hope you understand that.

Yours, Spencer.

***

The thought of seeing him in person again after so long made my hands way shakier than I would have liked. It made no sense the longer I thought about it, because it was obvious that we liked each other, and seeing each other in person wouldn't be a problem. Because it'd never been a problem before.

It irked me.

Still, I knocked on his door and physically shook out my hands, praying I could keep my cool when he finally opened the door.

But I should have known better.

One second I was staring at a large plank of wood, and the next I was staring into frantic eyes, golden and sparkling just as I remembered, but with an added glimmer of fear that matched the shakiness of my hands.

I don't know how long we stood there, just staring at each other, but the longer we did, the more we relaxed. His fear was gone, and the shaking in my hands turned into a dull hum that longed to reach out for him.

Still, I refrained, settling on a simple, "Hey, pen pal..."

By the way he looked at me, silent as ever, I started to wonder if that was a stupid thing to lead with. So I opened my mouth to apologize, to say anything else, but he beat me to it.

"Y/N... I... H—Hi, you look... incredible."

"O—Oh, thanks... Thank you, yeah, I um... figured I should... dress up a little. I know we're not going out anywhere, but I thought it might be nice."

He doesn't need to know that, Y/N, stop talking!

I gave him a small smile and a nervous laugh in an attempt to stop myself, hating how I was so nervous around him.

Spencer didn't seem to mind, though. He let me in and closed the door behind me as I quickly glanced around his apartment. It was littered with greens and browns, books everywhere, and I'd never felt more at home.

"Is it, uh... What you expected?"

"Hmm?" I turned to meet him, his soft voice pulling me from my wandering eyes.

"My apartment."

"Oh! Yeah, it's very you... I love it."

The compliment had his cheeks turning pink, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than kiss them over and over again.

And just like that, once again we were caught just staring at each other. I didn't know what he was thinking, and honestly, I didn't know what I was thinking either. All I knew in that moment was that Spencer Reid was standing right in front of me, close enough to touch, and I wanted to give in.

I was so wrapped up in the idea of feeling him that I almost didn't hear him speak. I wouldn't have heard him at all had it not been for his lips moving.

"I'm sorry, I haven't started dinner yet..."

"That's okay," I reassured. Or, at least I tried to. Really, though, I think it sounded more like I was uninterested in what he was saying, my voice flat and lifeless as I continued to stare at him.

Suddenly we were closer, and I had to look up higher to see his face, butterflies swarming in my stomach at the way he looked down at me.

"You're sure?"

"Mhm."

"I can start it now if you're getting hungry."

Food isn't what I'm hungry for, is what I thought. I almost said it, too, because he was even closer now, his hands coming out to touch mine. If they were humming before, they were certainly blaring with life now, growing hot under his light touch. And it took everything I had not to look down, because it had been too damn long since I'd seen his hands in person, and I wanted them on me immediately.

He could tell, too. He could sense my urgency, feel the longing radiating off my presence, and I knew this because I could feel his, too. His eyes practically dared me to say what I was thinking, and so I did.

"Don't you dare."

It was hard to tell who moved in first, but it really didn't matter.

I was here, in his apartment, feeling his lips glide over mine with reckless abandon, and that's all that mattered.

His hands gripped my waist so tightly I would have thought he was trying to hold me in place, to make sure I wasn't ever going to leave his sight again. And if that was the case, I would have let him hold me there forever.

My hands, meanwhile, clutched at his hair, forcing myself closer and closer to him with every sharp tug. I reveled in the way he whined into my mouth with every little thing I did, whether it was a tug of the hair or a roll forward of the hips, or even a swipe of my tongue over his.

He was putty in my hands yet again, and just like every time before, it turned me into a fucking goner.

Being with Spencer wasn't like anything I'd ever known. And the only other thing I'd known was Patrick. He didn't want me, not really, and even though he was good to me in the beginning, it was never like this.

I didn't come over to his apartment with shaking hands. I didn't send him fucking love letters almost weekly, and I certainly didn't get kissed like this...

Spencer was drunk on me, and I wasn't any sober myself.

"That picture you sent me..." I mumbled over his lips, still keeping myself as close as I could while I got out what I needed to say. "Where did you take that?"

We kissed for a few more seconds, unable to stay apart, before he answered, his voice just as breathy and brimming with desperation as mine. "My office. Just down the hall."

I kissed him again, hard, and then pulled back to look him in the eyes. They widened when I said, "Show me."

He dragged me through the apartment on rushed legs, and I almost laughed at the urgency, only stopped by the realization that I was just as urgent. It occurred to me that perhaps my laughing at his urgency might just be a slight turn on for him, given our history with my playful degradation, but still I pulled back— Tonight felt... different.

It didn't feel like we were headed in the direction of me calling him my dirty little whore throughout the night, and it was something I was more than okay with. In fact, I welcomed it, excited to see where this new night would take us.

We ended up in his office, which remained more or less the same aesthetic as the rest of his place. In the middle sat a small desk with a laptop and some papers scattered about on it, accompanied by a tall floor lamp and a rolling desk chair.

"Where were you exactly?" I mused, gripping his hand tightly and buzzing at the way his fingers flexed against my own.

"In the chair... I pulled the photo up on my laptop."

"Right. No smartphone."

Spencer hummed in confirmation before dragging me along to the chair, and I fucking giggled as he plopped down and practically pulled me right on top of him, the chair rolling back a foot or two. I went down for a bright, messy kiss that ended with his hands clutching my ass over my skirt and my own cradling his face.

His growing bulge nudged right up into my inner thigh, and I groaned lightly in his mouth, my fingers dragging softly down his jaw and neck until I reached his shoulders.

"What were you thinking about?"

He raised his eyebrow, and I rocked my hips forward with a sly grin, hoping to get my point across. "When you were looking at my picture, in this very chair, what were you thinking about?"

Seeing his eyelids stutter and his tongue dart out at my movements sent a rush through me, and I moved my hips once more to emphasize my urgency.

"I... I thought about you... riding my face. You tied my hands..."

"Oh?" I sighed, rocking forward again and humming into his neck. "Well, that can definitely be arranged if you want it bad enough..."

"Please, Y/N, yes... Please..."

The need dripping from every syllable made it near impossible to breathe, and I was suddenly very inclined to give him everything he wanted. With or without the begging.

So I reluctantly peeled away from him and stood up on weak legs. Staring at Spencer as he sat there, leaning back in the chair with disheveled hair and obvious desire in his eyes, made it all the better when I took my panties off from under my skirt and motioned for him to come forward. "On your knees?"

I would have demanded it in any other situation, but I was feeling a bit more sweet this time around.

And he seemed grateful for it, sliding the chair back further and getting down in front of me. I reached out and played with his hair, trying my hardest to commit his beautiful face to memory. I wanted it burned there for the rest of time.

"Hands?"

Spencer offered his hands to me, and I hummed happily, doing my best to tie his hands together with a makeshift knot from my panties. It wasn't really tight or secure, but it was enough for him to whine as he set them in his lap.

He watched intently as I dropped my skirt—a bit redundant now, but I thought it'd be a nice way to get him more excited. Plus I wanted to see his face (or at lease what I could see of it while it was buried between my legs).

I stepped forward then, looking down at him with a smile while my hands reached out to comb through his hair. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

The look in his eyes right before I came forward and hovered over his face almost made my come on the spot.

But as fun as that would have been, I was glad for the way my body held off and settled for a beautiful, burning increase of pleasure that dragged out the longer he swiped his tongue through my folds. Actually, I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be moving, riding his face like he'd thought about.

I willed my eyes open and clutched Spencer's soft locks of hair beneath me, gently rolling my hips and grinding down further on his face.  The groan he let out not only felt good against my skin, but it sounded like pure bliss, eliciting a small whimper of my own as I tightened my grip in his hair and rocked faster.

"God, I missed having your mouth on me, baby... You're... so good..."

The longer I spoke the more breathless I became, not because the words didn't come easily, but because I truly believed them to be true.

Spencer really was so fucking good, his tongue the most delicate, divine object of the universe as it drew out every ounce of delight from my body. I may have been the one above him, calling the shots and directing him where and how to please me, but he was the one who clung to my soul like static and politely guided me towards damnation.

I wasn't even sure of my surroundings to tell you the truth. As my body tensed and took me through one of the most blinding pleasures I'd experienced in weeks, My eyes were squeezed so tightly it's like I saw the universe. All I knew was Spencer's lips sucking my clit and my hands deeply rooted in his hair as I shouted incoherently, stars swirling around behind my eyelids.

Truly, for all I knew, we could have been in space. It wouldn't have made any difference.

But eventually it came to be too much. I was reaching a limit I didn't want to get to so quickly, and so I flashed my eyes open and tried to adjust to this brand new atmosphere, unweaving my fingers through pretty brown waves of hair and stepping back to assess the situation.

What I found was the most beautiful man I'd ever known, panting like he'd just ran a marathon and yet harboring the most intense joy and desire a person could hold. He was on his knees, bound hands writhing in his lap as he awaited further instruction and licked up as much of myself on his face as he could before I stopped him.

Under normal circumstances, I would have wanted to absolutely ruin him. That adoring, desperate look in his eye would have spurred me to more devious endeavors, but all I wanted in this moment was to make sure he was satisfied. I wanted to take care of him, to let him know that I longed to make him feel as worshipped and adored as he'd made me feel.

I got down to Spencer's level, quickly removing the fabric from his wrists and hauling him to his feet, where he now towered over me, still waiting for words to address and instruct him.

Instead, I leaned up with soft hands upon his cheeks and pulled him down to meet my lips in a kiss that changed the tone entirely. It was erotic still, of course, what with my arousal infiltrating my taste buds and eliciting a soft sigh from the both of us, but our urgency manifested in sweeter ways... Softer lips, gentle touches of the face, and an exchanging of breath that was so smooth and seamless it felt like we were floating on air.

I was finding it hard to breathe again, but it wasn't an issue in the slightest. In fact, there was nowhere else I'd rather have been than right there, kissing Spencer Reid like we had all the time in the world.

When the breathlessness was a little too much to bear, we pulled away, though only leaving just enough space to breathe. Our lips stayed briefly connected while we caught up, and his hands found their way to the sides of my face. The way they practically engulfed my whole head brought a brief smile to my lips as I finally gave him the words he was looking for.

"I'm so glad I met you," I whispered.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."

We kissed each other again, naturally and with so much ease that I wondered how I had ever lived without him.

And then, as my hands slid gently down his chest, I felt it.

Something that felt very much like a ring attached to a necklace sat right where his heartbeat resided, and I knew exactly which ring it was.

"W—" I pulled back and circled the shape of it with my finger through the shirt, then looked up at him. "Is that what I think it is?"

Spencer looked briefly panicked, pulling away a little and fishing down the front of his shirt for the chain. "Oh... Um, yeah. I, um... I forgot to take it off, I'm sorry. I..."

"You... kept it?"

I observed the diamond as it laid flat on my palm, still attached to the chain and around his neck. Honestly, after all this time I figured he'd never found it or gotten rid of it, seeing as he never brought it up. And yet there it was, glittering in the palm of my hand as my other one presses firmly against Spencer's rapidly beating heart.

"Y—Yeah... It um... It was really the only physical thing I had to remember you—Well, at least until we started sending letters... And I guess I just... W—Wearing it has become such a habit that I forgot to take it off."

"You never take it off?"

I could tell he was nervous, and rightfully so given I wasn't really letting on how I was feeling about the whole thing.

Still, he answered my short question in such a small whisper I'd have thought he was trying not to get in trouble.

"No."

"Why?"

My words certainly weren't helping ease his anxieties, so I remained close, dropping the ring and focusing rather on his eyes. I softened the look in my own and glided my hands down to hold his. His fingers flexed against mine, squeezing them for dear life as he sighed out in relief and flashed me a soft smile.

"Because... I wanted you close to my heart."

With a smile that mirrored his eyes, full of enchantment and pure adoration for the person in front of me, I didn't use my brain and instead focused on what my heart was telling me, consequences be damned.

"I think I might love you..."

Spencer squeezed my hands tighter, that relief spreading out to all his features and brightening that beautiful smile.

"Funny... I was just thinking the same thing."

Our lips met once more, and I swear it was like nothing bad was ever going to happen for the rest of time.

I'd never felt that way. Not once with Patrick did my heart feel settled into place, even during the great parts of our relationship.

And now here I was, with a man who sent me love letters and kept every physical reminder of my existence, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world and slowly mended my wounded heart.

He held me close the whole way to his bedroom and never let me go until the morning. Though, even then his arms outstretched towards me and his fingers flexed, needing to grab onto any part of me that he could find.

And as I was sure I always would, I welcomed him with open arms.

***

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[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Hibiscus Kisses {6}

Chris Evans x OFC Ajali Rambaue AU {Ah-Jah-Lee, Ram-Bow}

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Angst, Blood, Lots Of Words, Death

Words: 8.3k

Summary: Ajali decides on a rash decision to go on a Disney cruise, not for her love of Disney, but because she needs time to figure things out after things get even more complicated in her complicated life. She only expected peace, quiet, tropical drinks, and an overabundance of Disney songs. What she got was more than she bargained for when the cruise of a lifetime on the brand new ship Enchantment turned into a nightmare. The only saving grace is that she’s not the only one living through the nightmare. Can Ajali survive the test of a lifetime and the dangers ahead of her, and better yet, will she finally be able to live a little?

Note: Please feel free to tell me what you think. I’m super excited to explore this one with you all. 🤗

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

I appreciate each and every one of your guys’ support and love!

***VERY Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Interactive**

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | {3} | {4} | {5} |

You must have stood at the back of the yacht for a while because the shore and the docks were barely visible at this point. Every minute that ticked by you weighed your options of just diving in and swimming back. Everything you came up with seemed fine to deal with. So what if your hair got wet and you had to go through your four-hour wash and treat routine. So what if you attracted a shark or two, you could swim. So what if everything in your bag got drenched, you could replace them.

 With the number of rebuttals you came up with, you should have jumped in already. The major con that was flashing in your head in neon lettering was you are an adult and not a child who ran away from difficult situations. The sound of laughter had you turning around to see Chris laughing with Harper. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. Scoffing, you turned back around and crossed your arms.

 Almost a minute later you felt Chris standing beside you. “If you want to swim back I’m sure you could make it.”

 If looks could kill, the one you gave him should have done it. All you had to do was push him overboard to a watery grave. Chris lifted his hands to show his no threat status and that was when you walked away.

 “All right folks. It’ll be another forty minutes before we arrive at the best fishing spot in all of the islands. It’s my little secret. In the meantime, you have a choice of activities. You can go down below and marine watch, stay on deck and do some pictures and sights, or go into the bubble where you are surrounded by the ocean. It is optimal for fish watching. I’ll let you folks know when we’ve arrived.”

You nodded and walked toward the steps that would lead below deck. You fully intended to get as far away from him as possible. Ignoring the way he turned to you as if he had something to say, you carefully went down the steps and to the back of the yacht. There you found what Harper was referring to. It looked like an actual bubble with two seats. Once you sat down you saw why this was mentioned as the most sought-after experience. You really felt like you were alone under the ocean and not apart from it but one with it.

You watched a school of yellow and black striped fish swim by and a small box popped up to the right of the screen with a still photo of the fish and a few listed facts.

 “Moorish Idol fish. These fish commonly inhabit tropical to subtropical reefs and lagoons. These fish usually travel alone or in small schools. These fish mate for life and adult males show aggression to one another.”

 Your jaw dropped. You hadn’t expected it to be high-tech. In front of you, you grabbed the flipbook and flicked through it to see a variety of sea creatures. The announcement of another fish brought your attention back to the ocean before you and that is where your eyes remained. Creature after creature swam by and up to the glass. Each one was announced and described. As they came up, you took pictures of the pretty ones you liked ready to show them to your family when you returned home.

 You were so wrapped up in fish watching that you didn’t notice that you weren’t alone until it was too late. Chris slipped into the seat beside you, startling you. Your harsh glare landed on him with the force of fifty blades behind it. He wasn’t looking at you though, his eyes were glued to the water and passing reef life.

 “Oh wow, Nemo and Dory,” Chris exclaimed inching closer to the glass.

 That was all it took for your attention to go right back, and lo and behold there were Dory and Nemo lookalikes.

 “Wow.”

 Mirroring Chris’s actions you slid to the edge of the seat as well and touched the glass. They were pretty in animation but that had nothing on real life. The orange and blue were so striking up close.

 “They’re even best friends in real life,” Chris quietly said.

 For the next few minutes neither of you spoke again you were too wrapped up in looking at all the fish that passed by one after the other. When you’d reached a part of the ocean where life was scarce, you sat back and crossed your arms.

 “Can I please explain?”

 You sighed and dropped your head back to rest on the hard headrest, keeping your eyes trained in front of you.

 “I promise I’m not this asshole you have me pegged as in your head.”

 “So you don’t go around trying to charm women out of your panties and in your bed for notches on your bedpost?”

 “God no!”

 You rolled your eyes not believing one word.

 “I solemnly swear that I am up to nothing but good,” Chris replied holding up three fingers.

A smirk teased your lips at the Harry Potter line he’d just repurposed for his own use mixed with the Hunger Games salute. You shook your head unable to ignore how adorkably stupid he was.

 “You know those two have nothing to do with the other, right?”

 Chris slyly smiled and shrugged. “It’s sorta my thing. Sleeping around and I have nothing to do with each other also.”

 You snorted and shook your head. He was smooth.

 “You’re real smooth, I’ll give you that.”

 He sighed and turned his body more to you. “It’s a misunderstanding,” Chris began.

 “Let me stop you there. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time anyone starts off with that, chances are there was no misunderstanding,” you dryly informed.

 “That high? Okay, then I fall in the point one percent.”

 You glared at him again but he didn’t back down, he held your glare but behind his eyes, you saw nothing but sincerity rather than the hostility you had spearing behind yours. When you didn’t object, he opened his mouth to speak again but you looked away.

 “There’s no need.”

 “Why won’t you let me explain?”

 You knew why. If he explained and the explanation seemed plausible and he looked sincere the chances of you believing it would be eighty percent and that was high. You would then continue spending time with him because you did enjoy his company and conversation and eventually sleep with him. Maybe. Letting him explain was step one that would lead to a series of missteps. Then you’d find yourself in a situation come the end of the cruise when both of you went your separate ways. There were too many what-ifs in the air.

 “Ah, I think I know. If you let me explain then this image you have of me being a womanizer who is after fast and quick ass, who would come on a cruise to chase women for a notch would be debunked. If it is debunked, then you’d have to admit that you liked spending time with me and enjoyed yourself. Then you’d have to admit that what might have happened if my phone didn’t ring wouldn’t have been a one-off. You’d have to face the possibility that there might be something here past our physical attraction.”

 Well damn, you thought. For a moment your thoughts betrayed the steely animosity in your eyes and you knew your shock shone through. You quickly looked away from him and tapped into your inner Elsa while watching a school of white fish pass by. You could feel him beside you staring at you as if trying to crack your resolve. You fought against him and kept your breathing slow and steady.

 “You don’t have to tell me I’m right. I know I am and it’s not because I’m a cocky prick. It’s because—,” Chris paused then sighed heavily before he continued. “I liked spending time—with you. Like really liked it and this was before anything physical happened. You’re funny and fun and not phased by this thing called fame that is wrapped around me. You probably don’t understand it, but that’s something refreshing and attractive to me.”

 Unable to resist any longer, you sneakily glanced at him while wondering if any part of what he’d just said was possibly true.  

 “Before I came on this cruise to get away from my life—run away from my life.”

 Your interest piqued. Why was he running away? Didn’t he have everything?

 “My friend, the one you heard on the phone was teasing me about the reason. I didn’t want to give him the real deal so I kept quiet which led him to the conclusion that it had something to do with a woman. It didn’t but he thought it. So the phone call was him stating his opinions again, his way of life. Now I’m not condoning what he said at all but that’s his life. I didn’t come here for any of that and that night wasn’t about that for me.”

 “What was it about?”

 You blurted the question without a thought and once you’d asked, you regretted it. The answer wouldn’t do you any good.

 Sighing, you looked back out to the water. “Don’t answer that.”

 And he didn’t. The silence stretched and your thoughts did as well. You contemplated his explanation and the probability of any of it being true. He had all the reason to lie right now, but the more you thought about it the more you guessed he didn’t need to lie being who he was. He could have just shrugged and put you on the side that wasn’t a fan of his and kept it moving.

 “Look,” Chris said shoving his phone to you with the text exchange between him and someone named Austin was visible.

 “I know what it is to be distrustful of strangers or everyone really and proof means a lot to me. Since the burden of proof is on my side, here it is.”

 You read through the exchange from a little over a week ago and sure enough, his friend Austin was scum. The irrefutable proof showed those sentiments were his and even showed Chris admonishing him for those sentiments and setting him straight. The banter that continued was Austin teasing him about his good boy behaviors. From the texts, you could tell they were close, and you could also tell that Austin was the asshole between them and Chris was possibly a good guy.

 Groaning, you looked away and dropped your head back to the headrest again. You did not need this. Sighing, you closed your eyes and listened to the silence. Several minutes passed by where neither of you spoke and just when you were going to Harper’s voice came in over the ship’s intercoms.

 “We have some dolphin action up here if anyone’s interested.”

 “Dolphins!”

 Your head snapped to Chris hearing the uncharacteristically excited squeal. Did he really just turn into a Powerpuff girl? Chris leapt to his feet and began walking toward the steps leaving you there to wonder just what kind of man he was.

 A few moments later, you emerged from below and walked to the railing to see a dolphin jump out of the water in the distance.

“Oh my god!”

 At that moment you felt your smallness in the world. There were so many other creatures that were bigger and yet humans always thought themselves so superior. It was baffling.

 “It’s not always like this, they must be here to greet you folks,” Harper said as another jumped out and one swam up.

 You dropped down to your knees and peered over the railing and marveled at the aquatic beauty.

 “They’re so friendly.”

 Just then, a dolphin popped up showing its long bottlenose and black eyes and in the same breath, a stream of water came at you drenching you. In your shock, you just sat there while Chris and Harper heartily got their laugh in at your expense. To add insult to injury the dolphin even sounded like it was laughing. Who could be mad though? It was too cute. You looked across the way and saw Chris snapping pictures of you with a wide smile on his face. Being alarmed, snapping at him, or even telling him to delete the pictures would have all been acceptable reactions but you didn’t react in any of those ways. Instead, you brought your attention back to the dolphins in the water. Let him take his pictures, you thought.

 Twenty minutes later you were sitting at the side of the boat with your legs dangling over the edge enjoying the breeze, sun, and tranquility being on the ocean brought. There was something so serene about being in the middle of a giant body of water with creatures of plenty underneath its depths while there was nothing in sight for miles and miles. It was peaceful. The pictures you took of the horizon, the sky, and the water were breathtaking. You knew they’d make great printouts to add to your walls when you returned home. When you realized your battery was running low, you dug into your bag for one of your four fully charged portable chargers and slipped your phone into one of the many waterproof pouches you had your belongings secured inside.

 Your sister liked to make fun of you for how well you prepared for things. When you went out for every day, your purse contained every possible thing you would and could need for the day. You didn’t like being unprepared for whatever you came across and that included something as minor as rain all the way to the major things like abductions. You’d been the butt of many jokes but you didn’t care.

 Glancing to the other side of the yacht, you watched as Chris followed the instruction of Harper as he practiced a variety of sailor’s knots. It didn’t look like he was a novice though. You could tell he’d done it a few times before. Sooner than you could look away, Harper caught you then motioned you over. It would have been rude to ignore him, so you walked over to them and sat before them.

 “Here, try your hand at sailor’s knots,” Chris suggested holding out a length of rope to you.

 “It’s not as easy as it looks,” he followed up as you took it.

 “You look like you’ve done it before.”

 “Once or twice,” he replied.

 You studied the knots surrounding Chris for a few moments then took a stab at it. From the beginning you messed it up but didn’t quit, instead, you undid it and tried again. You didn’t quit easy. That was probably why you were in your current relationship predicament. A few minutes and several failed attempts later, you held up the finished product that looked identical to Chris’s.

 “So you have one of those brains where you can see something and replicate it?”

 You scoffed and shrugged. “Kind of. I just pick some things up quickly.”

 Chris nodded and held out another length of rope and pointed to a different pattern. “Try this one.”

 You knew it was a test. You grabbed the rope and studied the new pattern that was a lot more intricate than the first. Though it was more intricate it took you a shorter amount of time to start. When you held it up for them to see, less time had passed and you hadn’t made one mistake.

 “Wow,” Harper exclaimed before he chuckled.

 “What can I say, I’m pretty amazing,” you joked.

 Both men laughed but didn’t debate the fact.

 “We’re coming up on the cove that gives me the best fish. Of course, we’re catching and releasing, but it won’t dampen the experience,” Harper informed.

 Within a few short minutes, Harper had pulled up to one of the most beautiful coves you’d ever seen. The water was aquamarine crystal blue. It was so crystal like you could see several feet into it. The giant rocks that created a maze had moss growing off the tops of them that were lush green and created a nice contrast of colors. If you could have picked up this view and brought it home with you, you would have. It was that breathtaking.  

 You weren’t the only one thinking it, Chris was a few feet away snapping every picture he could get, only he didn’t look like a tourist. He looked like a professional travel photographer. When he dropped to one of his knees to get a different angle you just leaned against the railing and watched. The sun beaming down on him gave his hair a reddish hue which looked good on him. It even accentuated the freckles peppered along his arms. You remembered what was under that shirt of his at that second. You remembered the muscles, the hair, and the tats. It was an unexpected sight but one that you wouldn’t mind seeing again. Instantly you kissed your teeth and slapped your forehead.

 “Cut it out.”

 “Did you say something?”

 Chris was looking at you with a quizzical expression with his camera still posed up.

 “Nope, nothing.”

 He didn’t look like he believed you, but slowly he went back to snapping his pictures while you tried to create even more distance between you.

 “Get a grip, Ajali. It hasn’t been that long. You’re not affection starved either. Get—a—grip.”

 You took a few slow breathes and focused on the scene before you. You now understood why many people said this island was a top destination for vacations.

 “And we’re ready. You both said you’ve fished before, right?”

 You walked toward Harper’s voice then saw he had fishing rods, buckets, gloves, and all the other supplies lying at his feet.

 “I’ve done some fishing,” Chris offered before both sets of eyes landed on you.

 “Never.”

 “It’s not hard, I promise,” Harper assured bending for the rods. He held one out to Chris and the other to you.

 “Thank you.”

 “I’ll explain everything and its function. If either of you have any questions let me know.”

 Harper walked a few feet away leading the two of you to a shaded portion of the yacht. Once there, he explained everything in detail. He showed the parts of the rod, showed how to put things together, explained their function, and then went on to the different kinds of bait that were available. When he began demonstrating how to hold the rod and posture you paid close attention and imitated what he did. You knew though this was something that would take some getting used to.

 After twenty minutes, the three of you were in your spots ready to cast your rods. You watched Harper cast his first and it looked so fluid. You could tell he’d done this thousand of times. Then you watched Chris and though his movements weren’t as fluid, it looked like he was far from a beginner. You sighed and tried your best. The rod was heavy in your hands and affected your ability to control it and cast it perfectly. Glancing at Harper, he shrugged.

 “Good enough. You got it where it needs to go.”

 A soft chuckle escaped both you and Chris.

 “What kind of catch do you get out here?”

 Harper proceeded to explain the different kinds of fish he’d caught to Chris while you partially zoned them out. It didn’t take long for you to understand why people liked fishing. It was calming. You could leisurely do it while letting your mind drift and worries float away. Thirty minutes later it was your line that tugged first. You yelped then squeaked as you panicked.

 “What do I do?”

 “Reel it in,” Harper said.

 The resistance on the line was giving you a good arm workout. The struggle went back and forth. You doubted this was a baby.

 “This thing is strong.”

 “You got it, put your back into it like Ice Cube,” Chris teased making you narrow your eyes at him. That only made him laugh loudly.

 A few more moments of struggle persisted until you’d yanked the rod backward tucking it out of the water, over your head, and flopping the fish right on the deck.

 “Aaaah, oh my god! I caught a fish!”

 You jumped up and down excited by your success. Forgetting any prior slights you jumped closer to Chris and bumped shoulders with him.

 “I did it!”

 “You did.”

 “Good job. This here is a Barracuda,” Harper announced.

 “Ooooh Barracuda,” you and Chris said in unison like the song. The two of you giggled together before returning your attention to Harper.

 “It’s not an adult, but it’s no baby either. You want a picture?”

 “Yes!”

 You scurried to your bag and pulled out your phone then handed it to Chris before you dropped down to your knees and bent to the fish still flopping on the deck and smiled as you’d just won the lotto. Chris laughed and took the picture a few moments later. After the first few shots, you changed poses and let him take a few more. You watched as Chris’s face went from wide smiles to solemn confusion. Just as you were going to ask if your battery died, Harper spoke.

 “Do you want to do the honors of releasing it?”

 “You mean touch it?”

 Harper nodded and you ardently shook your head. “No thank you. I hear Barracudas like to bite.”

 Harper laughed at you as he effortlessly grabbed the fish by its tail then chucked it back into the ocean.

 “It was just an adolescent.”

 Chris held your phone out then walked back to his rod without a word. Slight confusion washed over you as you glanced at your screen to see one of the pictures he’d just taken, but your battery was fully charged.

 For the next few hours Chris barely spoke to you, but when you glanced over to him, his eyes were always on you before he looked away once yours met his. It was a complete turnaround from before. It shouldn’t have bothered or affect you at all considering the reality of things, but it did bother you a little bit. Once the three of you had had your fill of catch and release the sun was beginning to disappear. Harper caught a huge Mahi Mahi, scaled and fillet it right in front of you, and Chris showing off his impressive knife skills. He then took the fish to prepare what he promised would be the best open ocean fish you’d ever had. You were excited to see the finished product.

 Once Harper had disappeared down below you walked to the cooler, took out two beers, and walked over to Chris. He was sitting toward the back of the yacht watching the rocks in silence. You sat beside him, held out the beer, and waited for him to accept it. When he took it, he wasted no time twisting off the top and taking a mouthful. You sat there in silence looking over the view.

“Who knew a celebrity could fish.”

 “I’m not a celebrity all day every day. I have hobbies and free time.”

 “I take it fishing is a hobby?”

 “When I can get to it. Sometimes I can’t go off the grid to do it.”

 You nodded and tried to picture him at a lake with a rod and bucket of bait catching fish. A soft smile spread across your face before you gulped your beer.

 “What’s one of your hobbies?”

 Taking a deep breath you slowly released it. “Painting.”

 “You’re artistic?”

 “Depends what you call artistic. I can slap some paint on a canvas and call it a day.”

 Chris looked at you for a few moments. “Somehow I find it hard to believe it’s as lowkey as you’re describing. I bet you’re a modern-day Frida Kahlo.”

 You smiled and shrugged. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

 Silence spread between you again and the two of you sipped from your bottles. It was a semi-comfortable silence.

 “Are you departing tomorrow or staying on?”

 You wanted to ask why he wanted to know but decided against it. “Staying on.”

 Chris nodded. “Me too.”

 Neither of you spoke again, instead, you watched the sky as the sun slowly began its descent behind the water. When Harper returned, the air filled with such a delicious scent that your belly grumbled loudly.

 “And dinner is served. Harper placed the platter down on the table and you and Chris walked over to it. Your jaw dropped in amazement.

 “What kind of kitchen do you have down there that can produce that?”

 “I’ve had tons of practice.”

 The Mahi Mahi that was alive less than two hours ago was now cooked to perfection and decorated with papaya, and a green salad.

 “Wow, this looks mouthwatering,” Chris complimented.

 “It’s nothing fancy, just some fish with a papaya and seaweed salad.”

 “Seaweed salad? Oh wow. You utilize everything huh.”

 “Absolutely. I can tell you more about using everything you can to not only survive but make good food,” Harper said motioning you both to sit down.

 “No one is serving you here, help yourselves there’s plenty.”

 The three of you dug in taking portions of fish and salad. When you took a bite of the Mahi Mahi your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Oh my god. This is so good.”

 “All it needed was some salt, pepper, and lemon. Sometimes keeping it simple is the best way.”

 Chris moaned and nodded in agreement with you. “Delicious.”

 As the three of you ate, Harper told you all about his travels and time living on his own on the ocean and how he’d learned to survive on little to nothing. It was so interesting to hear his story. From it, you gathered he was determined, creative, meticulous, and persevering. He didn’t let anything stop him and because of that mindset, he said he’d seen a lot of wonderful things and had a beautiful life. Listening to him speak about his loves and losses and how it was just him in the end you couldn’t help but think about your relationships.

 When he began listing off the life lessons he’d learned you made note of each and every one of them. You always thought the stories of the older generations were interesting. While most of their experiences were relatable, a lot of it wasn’t because of the difference in eras. In Harper’s era being a bachelor past twenty-two was seen as taboo, yet that was the life he lived. When he spoke of when he did get married, it was to the one woman he’d loved since he was twenty years old. The woman he’d been stupid about and missed out on two times. From the way he spoke about her, you knew she was his soul mate.

 Glancing to Chris who was sitting diagonally from you, part of you wondered how relatable Harper’s experiences were to him. You thought back to the very few tabloid and gossip stories you’d read about him but nothing jumped out to you. The tabloids didn’t focus on one woman that he was possibly seeing, they didn’t highlight any crazy behaviors with any of them or even highlight breakups. That was part of how you’d pieced him together. The lack of information left for such a wide breadth of possibilities to put together.

 “Take it from me young ones, when you’re walking down a dimly lit street of soft lights, and you happen to find that anomaly among the sea that shines a different light and makes everything else pale in comparison you do whatever it takes to hold on to that. You fight for it and don’t let anything or anyone make you miss out on it. None of us are here for a long time. One day I’ll join my Angie and we’ll be together again. I welcome that day, until then I’ll keep drifting.”

 The three of you sat there in silence, each of you lost in your thoughts and worries. Was Javii that anomaly or was he part of the sea and you’d been mistaken this whole time? When Harper returned to the helm to captain you back toward land you were secluded from the rest of them and still lost in your thoughts. It had been days since you left and you’d figured out nothing. If anything, you’d added more to your plate to think about. This was what you hadn’t wanted to do and that was the reason you chose this option rather than staying in the city.

 You began to wonder again about the person who would be that anomaly that Harper spoke of. Rather than thinking of your experiences with Javii, your irresponsible mind thought of your run-ins with Chris. When you’d seen him in passing before boarding the ship you’d noticed him in the sea of people and amidst every chaotic thing happening around you. Your brain singled him out. It did it again when you saw him in passing topside when you’d met Genevieve and in the lounge club. It was something you hadn’t focused on before but now it was all you could think of.

 “Get a freaking grip, Ajali!”

 You smacked your head and dropped it down hunching over to hug your shins. Suddenly, you felt raindrops and those drops quickly turned into a waterfall.

 “What the--,” you began holding your hands out confused how a downpour like this could just suddenly start.  

 Unexpectedly, the ship lurched hard to the left sending items on the deck toppling over including your beer bottle and the empty ones around it. Thinking quickly, you grabbed the railing to not tumble. Your grip was precarious thanks to the downpour and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold on for long. Just as you were losing your grip, that was when the ship lurched again only this time to the right. With no time to grab for the railing, you tumbled over but before you hit the deck arms wrapped around you stabilizing you.

 “I got you.”

 Glancing up, you found Chris with rainwater pouring down his face and beard. He was holding on tightly to one of the metal poles while holding you tightly in his other arm. When the rocking went from deadly to manageable, Chris slowly let you go.

 “Something must be wrong. Let’s go.”

 Both of you took off on the search to find Harper. Every few seconds the rocking of the ship made items fall and roll. Chris was the one to pull you in every which direction to help you avoid the bigger items. When the ship bucked back you both slid back.

 “Aaah, fuck!”

 A sharp slice caught you off guard making you fall to the deck. Before Chris could react the boat rocked again sending you rolling back a few feet. When you slammed into one of the walls you shouted out in pain. Seconds later Chris was bent before you.

 “Are you okay?”

 His eyes quickly scanned your body and found your bleeding foot.

 “Oh god.

 Chris quickly pulled off his tropical printed shirt, ripped it, and began wrapping your foot.

 “I’m sorry I have to do this tight to hopefully slow the bleeding,” Chris informed before he yanked the material, knotting it tightly around your injury. You tried to stifle your groan but it didn’t work. Your shout echoed across the open water and carried it competing with the downpour from the sky.

 “I’m sorry. Ready to keep going? We’re almost there.”

 You nodded and let Chris help you up. With his arm around your waist and yours draped over his shoulder the two of you hurried to the small enclosure where Harper was steering the boat. Every so often thanks to the falling and rolling items you and Chris looked like circus performers, jumping, dodging, and sliding out of harm's way. The way Chris managed to go into protector and alpha mode had you seeing a new side to him. Women did love a man who could take charge.

 When you finally made it you found Harper passed out on the floor.

 “Oh my god!”

 Chris placed you along one of the windows so you could lean against it before he dropped down to his knees to check for a pulse. The longer it took him to turn to you, the more anxious you became.

 “He has a pulse, but it’s thready. Looks like he may have hit his head,” Chris informed before he ripped the while men’s tank he wore at the hem and pressed it to Harper’s forehead.

 On impact, Harper groaned then bolted up.

 “Hey, take it easy,” Chris shouted trying to compete with the loudness of the ocean and the rain.

 “No. Storm. We’re in a storm. We call these pop-ups. They happen all the time,” Harper explained as Chris helped him to his feet.

 “If you knew it was coming--,” you began.

 “I didn’t. No one can predict these and they’re increasingly more dangerous.”

 The yacht whipped as if it were a leash sending all three of you knocking into whatever was closest. Immediately the pain that whisked through you had you screaming. That was the first time you thought you were going to die. All you could feel was pain, all you could hear was the sound of your heart beating. You slowly opened your eyes but couldn’t make anything out through the haziness. You couldn’t pinpoint where the pain in your body was coming from, it felt like it was everywhere.

 “Ajali!”

 Snapping your eyes open you saw Chris’s drenched and concerned face before you. “Open your eyes. Stay with me!”

 It was a forceful command. One that you slowly obeyed. He helped you to a sitting position then turned back to Harper who was trying to stand to look over the built-in equipment of the ship.

 “We’re way off course here. Somehow this storm has put us way off route. It makes no sense.”

 “What does that mean?!”

 “It means we’re drifting and not towards the islands. We’re drifting away.”

 “What!”

 Harper tried to turn the key for the engine but it stalled then sputtered. He tried it again and again but the result was the same.

 “This is bad,” Harper added.

 “What do we do?”

 The ship rocked again but this tilt was so drastically different. It actually went so far on its side that it felt like you were going to capsize.

 “We’re gonna tip over!”

 Chris ran from the small room fighting against gravity’s pull to yank him over. Your first thought was he was leaving you.

 “Hang on tight!”

 Your scream was so loud you doubt you’d ever gone that high before. Terror gripped your heart and your entire life flashed before your eyes. You were certain you were done for. There was no way to make it out of this. You began mumbling but you didn’t know if what you said made any sense. A few seconds later, the ship dropped back into the water allowing you to remain top side up. You felt hands on your body and you opened your eyes to Chris shoving your arms in a bright orange life vest.

 “I could only find one right now so it’s yours.”

 “What—what about you?”

 “I’ll be fine. Hold on tight.”

 He spun around looking at Harper.

 “I have to get below.”

 Harper hurried out without another word and Chris turned back to you.

 “I’m going to help him. Stay here.”

 He made a move to leave and you grabbed his hand pulling him back to you.

 “Don’t leave me.”

 “I’m not. I’m going below with Harper. I’m sure he’ll need my help. I think it’s safer for you up here.”

 You still held tight to his hand fear controlling your movements. Chris’s expression softened before he took a step close to you to hold you at the side of your neck to the base of your skull.

 “I swear to you I won’t leave you, no matter what. We’re in this together. I will be back and we’ll laugh about this one day. For that day to come though we have to get through this and I have to help him down below. You’ll be safe. Hold on tight, stay low.”

 You nodded and took a few breathes trying to psych yourself up.

 “You got this,” Chris said before he pulled away and walked from you.

 You closed your eyes and said a silent prayer hoping for him to come back and that his words weren’t bullshit.

 The seconds seemed to slowly tick by and the minutes went on for lifetimes. Every jolt of the ship leveled you to a whimpering mess. You did just as Chris has instructed—kept low and held on for dear life. You didn’t care how numb your hand became from gripping the cold metal for so long you kept holding on. You didn’t care how cold you got from not only the ocean water but the rain and the strong wind gusts, you remained in your corner shivering refusing to come out. It didn’t matter how much the pain you felt intensified the colder you got you ignored it and kept whispering your silent prayers. You didn’t want to die. Not like this.

 You heard something like a loud crack then the groaning of metal then the ship once again tilted. You screeched and tried to hold yourself to the railing but the further the boat tilted the harder it was to hold on.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 You screamed again and braced yourself to end up in the water under the boat, but instead of it tipping it once again dropped back onto the water’s surface.

 “Oh my god!”

 “Ajali, can you hear me?”

 You whipped your head around trying to find where the voice was coming from without letting go of the railing. You were too scared.

 “Ajali. Can you hear me!”

 On the dashboard, you saw a red light flashing and guessed it was the radio. The only problem was for you to get to it, you’d have to let go and walk over to it. If the yacht tilted again you’d slid your ass out the room and off the boat. It was a risk.

 “Ajali, pick up. We’re down here trying to fix the engine but we need you to turn her on for us. Can you do that?”

 “Fuck!”

 You slowly stood, fighting against your aching joints, bones, and muscles, and stood upright with most of your weight on your uninjured foot. You assessed the distance from where you were to the dashboard and knew slow and steady was the best way but you doubted you had that time. You took a deep breath and took three hops on your good foot toward the dashboard. When there was just one hop left to take the vessel rocked sending you off balance and smack dab into the glass with your face.

 At this point, there was no part of your body that wasn’t in pain. A metallic irony taste filled your mouth and you knew you were bleeding. You had no idea from where though, your face was completely numb.

 “Ajali!?”

 Using the back of one hand, you wiped across your mouth and took another deep breath, and hopped to the dashboard throwing yourself across it and holding it for dear life. You took a few moments to calm yourself then grabbed the walkie.

 “I’m here.”

 You heard Chris exhale as if he was relieved. “Thank god, I thought something happened.”

 “I’m fine,” you lied while trying to wipe away the blood that dripped across the dashboard.

 “Try to turn the engine on.”

 You twisted the designated key all that happened was a long exaggerated sputter then hiss.

 “This time keep it turned don’t release it,” Chris suggested.

 Doing as you were told, you waited and begged the engine to cooperate. When you heard a yell over the walkie you knew it wasn’t good.

 “Damn it! There’s water in the engine. The only way to even begin to work on it is for it to dry out. That’s gonna be impossible during a storm. It’ll just keep flooding. We’re not moving. Damn it!”

 There was a full range of banging over the walkie that only made you panic more.

 “Can everyone not fall apart right now? Please. I’m terrified enough as it is,” you pleaded.

 “Listen to my voice, it’s okay. We’re coming back up. We just have to weather the storm,” Chris said. His voice sounded like he was panicking but was also trying to showcase calm. You heard both.

 Another loud crack echoed but it wasn’t on your end, it was over the walkie.

 “What was that?”

 The sound rang out again and everything went dead silent over the walkie before a loud crash of something breaking echoed out. At that moment the ship lurched again only this time the groan of metal was so loud it made you shake from fear. Garbled speech went in and out over the walkie alarming you.

 “He—hello?”

 The only response you got was the walkie dying.

 “Hello? Hello?” You pressed buttons and turned switches not knowing what any of them did but hoping one of them brought communication back.  Nothing helped though.

 “Chris! Hello? Chris! Answer me goddamn it!”

 You threw the corded walkie and dropped your head down and wailed. There was no hope at all you thought.

 “I’m gonna die.”

 You cried, finally letting out the angst and terror you were feeling. There was nothing positive about your current situation. You were in the middle of the ocean, practically alone while a storm was raging around you. people went missing like this, people died like this. You were suddenly so tired. A wave of water brushed against your feet but you didn’t think anything of it. You almost couldn’t lift your head.

 “Ajali!”

 As you lifted your head you saw Chris racing toward you.

 “We have to get off this ship.”

 “What!”

 “The glass broke. We’re taking in water and sinking—fast!”

 Hearing those words you found the energy to rise. “What do we do? Where’s Harper?”

 “He’s lowering the life raft. Let’s go.”

 Chris wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you along. When you made it down the steps to the deck you saw that it was completely filled with water.

 “Oh my god.”

 “It’s all right, I have you.”

 He must have gotten tired of your hobbling because he scooped you up and hurried along treading through the now calf-level water.

 “You’re freezing cold,” Chris mumbled.

 “What are we gonna do?”

 Chris reached Harper who looked as if he’d been through hell. From one glance you could tell he was hurt.

 “Climb down first,” Harper said to you as Chris put you down.

 You flinched as the saltwater wreaked devastation on your injured foot.

 “I’m scared.”

 “I know. it’s expected, you’re human. I need you to work through that fear though and climb down into the raft,” Chris reasoned.

 You nodded and tried to get over not only the terror but also will your muscles to move through them being near frozen. You tried to move your legs in some coordination to climb over the railing but it was taking a bit of time on your own. Chris stepped closer and helped you to take the first step down the ladder. When your injured foot joined your other one it slipped and sent you down a few of them only stopping when you were able to get a grip on the metal.

 “Are you okay?”

 “I’m okay.”

 You slowly went down the remaining steps until you got to the last one and saw you’d need to jump off the railing to land in the raft. You took a few breathes, hoped that you made it in the raft and not in the ocean, and jumped. Landing on your back you couldn’t relax. It hit you that you were now in a life raft about to drift to god knows where. From above you heard the two men arguing back and forth over who should go next. When you saw Chris was the one climbing down the ladder you knew Harper had won.

 It didn’t take him nearly as long as it took you. A few seconds later he’d jumped in next to you. The strong scent of gas immediately hit you.

 “You smell like gas.”

 Chris smelled himself then his eyes widened and pointed back to the ship. The two of you looked up just in time to see Harper bringing back up the ladder.

 “What’re you doing? Come down!”

 “No can do brother. This here is my ship and a captain always goes down with his ship.”

 Your eyes widened in horror. He couldn’t be serious.

 “That’s not funny Harper. The gas is leaking, there is no saving it. It isn’t worth your life. Come on, there’s time for you to save yourself too,” Chris rebutted.

 “I’m long past saving,” Harper said lifting his shirt to show the large shard of glass that was sticking through his abdomen. It looked like it had gone right through him. You knew that if it were removed the chances of him living were zilch.

 “Oh my god,” you mewled before clamping your hand over your mouth to stifle the wail that followed.

 “Harper--,” Chris began but never finished.

 “I always knew I’d die on this ship and that’s all right. I’m at peace with it. If I get in that raft with you I’d be doing you a disservice. Sharks would be on your tail in no time.”

 Harper flung a pack over the railing into the raft.

 “I’ve already pre-packed all the emergency packs in the raft. They’re in the side compartments as well as underneath the zipped platform of the bottom. These are things you’ll need wherever you wash up.”

 Another bag followed the first and landed on the raft. “This one is some rations. Remember to conserve the water. You can survive without food longer than water.”

 You cried louder while using your hand to muffle as much of the sound as you could.

 “Come on man,” Chris pleaded.

 Four more bags followed including your backpack. By then you’d fully lost it and had ventured into a nervous breakdown.

 “Inside the raft, there is a transponder. I am going to set off the homing beacon on my ship it’ll give search and rescue some idea of where things went wrong. They’ll be able to follow the signal and rescue you no matter where you are.”

 Harper bent forward and groaned. He must have been in so much pain you thought to yourself. On its own, your hand gripped the ripped hem of Chris’s tank and held it tightly. Chris glanced back at you and you saw the same anguish you felt.

 “I’m sorry about this folks, I really am.” He paused and shook his head before he continued. “You have each other though.”

 An explosion shook the vessel and lit up the sky behind Harper.

“That’s my cue. Get outta here. I’ll do my part. Remember live your way, it makes death a peaceful conclusion.”

 With that Harper hobbled away holding the railing.

 “Go!”

 He disappeared from view leaving the two of you sitting in the raft, in the pouring rain heartbroken and terrified. Another explosion erupted and Chris sprang into motion yanking the cord that controlled the motor startup. He yanked it once, then twice until it sparked alive on the third try. You both looked to the ship unsure what to do. The decision had been made for you, there was nothing either of you could do but go.

 Slowly the raft began to drift away from the sinking ship and neither of you could peel your eyes away. Two more explosions boomed and then Harper’s voice echoed out.

 “I’m coming, Angie!”

 “Oh my god,” you whispered dropping your head to the surface of the raft. Your cry was loud and showcased the tragic sadness before you.

 You watched on before another and final grand explosion ripped the ship apart sending parts every which way.

“Fuck!”

 Chris leapt for you throwing his body over yours using himself as a shield to protect you. The sound of flying metal around you only made you scream more and more. Still, Chris didn’t come off of you, he kept his body over yours while maneuvering the rod steering of the raft. After the sound of flying metal subsided and the warmth of fire died down Chris rolled off of you. There was nothing to be seen except the fire from the explosion that was quickly being extinguished as the rest of the ship sank to the depths of the ocean.

 “Oh my god, Harper.”

 “God,” Chris groaned out, dropping his head down. “Rest in peace.”

 There it was. Death. It was staring you right in the face and you feared it hadn’t had its fill quite yet. Your sobs returned and soon they were the only sounds traveling across the water, along with the motor. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes as you both tried to digest everything that had just happened and how everything had gone so wrong.

 “What’re we going to do?”

 It was a question asked just above a whisper. A question that held so much uncertainty, a question that also brought so much fear with it. What were you going to do?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[c-r-ash-crash]

New Life Chapter 2

Grian yanked his comm out of his pocket and pulled up the player list. He needed to know if he was the only yellow life. He glanced over it and saw a mix of colors. Him, Jimmy, Scott, Ren, and Cleo were all on their yellow lives. He saw a smattering of light green names in the list (Impulse, Skizz, and Bigb). The rest were all a dark green.

“Why do we all have a different number of lives?” Ren asked in chat. Martyn’s response popped in. “I think it’s random this round. Probably a way to make it more interesting.” “You don’t all have four lives?” Lizzie asked.

Grian froze, hand hovering over the communicator screen. Lizzie had four lives. How did Lizzie have four lives? That shouldn’t have been possible. You got three lives, and then you permadied. Or at least, you were a ghost until everyone on the server bit the dust. Lizzie shouldn’t have gotten more. It wasn’t fair.

Bitterly, Grian forced a laugh out. Of course it wasn’t fair. Nothing about this curse of a server was fair. He should’ve been on Hermitcraft, pulling pranks and building an alleyway filled with magic. He wasn’t supposed to be here, shoved back into a horrific trial of life and death. It wasn’t fair.

A new message on his comm drew his attention back to the situation at hand. “Wait, do the different colors mean a different number of lives?” Mumbo asked “Yeah,” Tango said. “But the maximum number should be three.” “Lime green names mean that person has three lives,” Joel explained. “Yellow means two lives. Red means one life. Trust me, Mumbo. You don’t want to be on your red life.”

A chill ran through Grian, and quickly, he shut off the chat. He didn’t need to be reminded of crimes past. He needed to shift through his admin panels anyways, figure out what was different this time around.

He slumped against a tree, sliding to the ground as he entered command after command. Screen after screen of code appeared, most of it the same player code as always. But about twenty screens in, he noticed something strange in the list of crafting recipes. In the TNT recipe, where there should have been gunpowder, there was instead sugarcane. Grian whistled softly under his breath. That was a game changer. Explosives would be so much easier to get his hands on his own. He chose to ignore the idea that the new recipe would also make it easier for others to make the weapons.

He dug further into the code, and found a list of commands, most of which were disabled for all players, even the admin. But one jumped out at him. “Give life.” His eyes widened. Could they transfer lives between themselves? Was that why some players had more lives? He swore under his breath. With a mechanic like this, lives were the most valuable currency imaginable. Suddenly his eyes lit up as he realized that meant he could push himself back up to his green life. Maybe he could even gain more.

His mind began racing, sorting through and dismissing people he could scam out of lives. He couldn’t do anyone who was on their yellow life like him. They needed to avoid red lives at all costs. He should probably also avoid anyone on their green life, just in case. But given that everyone with a dark green life seemed to have four lives. Finally, he settled on Scar.

A knot of guilt nestled up in his chest, but he shoved it down. Scar would understand. He would probably be happy to five it in fact. Besides, Grian had already owed Scar a life. Scar could return the favor. Surely he’d understand. They were surviving. Putting Scar down to three lives wouldn’t really hurt him. Scar had survived into the late game with only one life. It would be fine. Before Grian could second guess himself further, he stood up and set off.

Scott dug into the ground, pickaxe breaking through the stone and leaving a small hole. He swung again, hair hanging down into his face. He brushed it away, but froze when he felt cold metal around his temples. Slowly, he reached up, hands curling around a thin circlet, fingers wrapping around thin spires of gold. He removed it and held it in front of his face. It was a thin gold crown, lightly tarnished. It was in near perfect condition, except for a small trace of dark red along the bottom of some of the spires.

Scott’s face fell, eyes clouding over, as memories filled his head. The sight of a small, broken body, an arrow pierced through the chest, a grave adorned with flowers and a small garden of poppies planted around it. Anger welled up in his chest. He reeled back and chucked the crown away from him. It clattered to the ground loudly, and Scott’s shoulders slumped in relief. Then, slowly, the crown began to dissolve into bunches of light. Then, they began to float off the ground and swirled around Scott. They settled into his hair, and hardened into metal once again. “No, no, no,” Scott muttered, yanking the crown off his head, and smashing it into the ground. He couldn’t do this again. The crown simply appeared on his head yet again, heedless of his wishes.

Suddenly, a soft voice drifted through the air, startling him. “Hello?” it called out. “Is everything alright?” “It’s fine!” Scott called, a bit more harshly than he meant to. “Are you sure?” the voice said. Then, Pearl appeared from behind a rock. “I heard something fall.” “Oh, yeah,” Scott said, forcing himself to sound fine. “Just dropped my pick. Nothing to worry about. Say...” he muttered, eyeing her wrist and the small dark green hearts embedded there. “Mind showing me your wrist? Wanna know how many lives you ended up with.” “Oh, sure,” Pearl said, cheerfully pulling up her jacket sleeve and proffering her wrist. Scott’s jaw dropped slightly when he saw the six hearts there. “You have six lives,” he muttered. “Yeah,” Pearl said sheepishly, pulling her sleeve back down. “I figured from everyone’s reaction to Lizzie and Mumbo having four lives, this much was unusual.” “Yeah,” Scott said. “Last time, we only had a maximum of three lives. You know...a deal might be in our best interest.”

Bdubs and Etho blocked up the entrance to their little cave. “Kind of glad I ended up with you,” Bdubs said. “If there’s anyone on the server I’d want as an ally, it’s you, Etho. And maybe Grian. I mean, he did win the game last time.” “I’m honored,” Etho said, pulling a small furnace from his pocket and tossing it to the ground. It expanded to a full size block, and Etho began to load it with fuel. “But you know I’m not actually all that powerful, right? I only survived last time because I got lucky. And even then, I died to something as pathetic as a fire. Don’t overestimate my abilities.” “Well, don’t sell yourself short,” Bdubs said. “You’re ancient. You know things about this universe that I’m pretty sure even some of the gods don’t.”

Etho opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, floating text appeared in front of his and Bdubs’ eyes. “1...” “What is the server doing now?” Bdubs asked. “I don’t know,” Etho said, the slightest hint creeping into his voice. “2...” “It’s counting down,” Bdubs said. “I noticed,” Etho deadpanned, loading the salmon he had caught into the furnace. “3...”

Across the server, the text read: “You are not the boogeyman.” But for Bdubs, bright red letters screamed, “You are the boogeyman.” What did that mean?