#Like I was wearing knee shorts and a t shirt to swim in the lake and they were wearing a girl’s bikini lol

[zappedbywho]

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[planetharrie]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Jet Ski

In which Harry and you are interviewed on the streets of New York on how you first met 🦩🚤🌊

This is inspired by ‘meetcutesnyc’ videos on tiktok, although this turned out to be way longer and in depth than I’d planned.

⭐️

There was a cool breeze drafting the streets of New York City, but Harry's hand enveloping yours was enough to keep your entire body warm. You'd both decided that a morning walk through the highstreets was needed after waking up still full from last night's bottomless tacos and fancy drinks. (Well, and to also 'window-shop', as you'd described it.)

"Whew—fuck, I'm still full from that dinner.." Harry cringed as he threw a t-shirt over his head. You hum in reply, glancing at him in the reflection of the mirror you were using. "Fancy a walk? I feel like I'm carrying rocks in my stomach!"

You click the lid back onto your eyeliner wand and whirl your head around, your freshly-washed hair twirling with the suddenly movement. Harry catches the glimmer in your eye, "That to me sounds like an invitation for some window-shopping, babe."

With your cherry-cheek smooshed into Harry's upper arm, you both amble the streets of New York—Harry now $50 short because of a pair of new shoes.

"Y/n, you said we'd just window-shop." Harry winged, unimpressed with the cardboard shopping bag dangling in his right hand. You lift you head up off his arm and glance up at him with slight puppy eyes.

"I know. . . but—" Your argument was slowly cut short when you were approached by two young guys; one holding a mobile phone up, clearly recording.

"Hey, excuse me?" The guy—who wasn't recording—started, "are you two a couple?"

You and Harry slowly come to a halt and he let go of your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist protectively.

"Yes, we are!" Harry chirped, with a tinge of uncertainty in his reply. His ring-clad hand squeezed your waist slightly and you lean into him as the guy continues.

"Great! Would you mind telling us how you first met?" He gently signals to the phone camera and his eyes scan both of you.

You laugh nervously and glance up at Harry, who's cracked a shy smile. He shuffles on his feet and takes you both to the side of pavement, out of the way of other pedestrians.

"Oh—sure! We'd love to." Harry agrees. When he gives an encouraging nod, you look back at the two guys in front of you.

"We met on a lake—" You begin before both you and Harry burst into laughter. He rubs his eye all embarrassed, and nudges you to continue after you'd both sobered up from the fit of giggles.

"Sorry. We met on a lake; I had gone swimming with my friend and we took this inflatable flamingo with us. ." You make a swift glance up at Harry and catch him watching you proudly as you re-tell one of the best days of your lives.

"And Harry," You point you thumb at him, "had actually offered to help us blow-up the flamingo for us 'cause we were struggling!"

Another fit of giggles erupt but just from you this time and your hands cover your flushed face in embarrassment. Harry takes over and you can hear his smile as he talks.

"Oh, my God, Y/n! Do you have noodles for legs?" Your friend cried jokingly as you attempt to to blow-up your inflatable flamingo with a pump. Except, you were laughing too much to even push you leg down on the foot-pump.

You were nearly bent at the waist, hugging your stomach as tears of laughter form in your eyes. You couldn't stop the fits of giggles coming from you. "It—it's too—it's too fucking stiff!" Your sentence comes out broken in between laughs. You try the pump again, using all your leg-strength, managing one large pump of air into the crinkled, plastic flamingo's poor arse.

From a few yards away, a young guy wearing black sunglasses had been watching the two girls struggle for the past 10 minutes. Stood next to a parked black truck, he cracked his own smile when the two girls fell to the knees with uncontrollable laughter.

"Oi, mate. Fancy helping?" His friend grunted under a pile of water-sports equipment in his arms. "Harry, stop being a creep—"

Harry shot him a pointed look, his lips tied in an unimpressed line. He took off his sunglasses and placed them on his friend's head. "Hold these."

"Harry!—" The friend dropped the equipment at his feet with a defeated sigh as he watched his nosy friend walk up the two hysterical girls at the edge of the lake.

"Do you guys need any help with that?" Harry called orotundity as he approached you and your friend.

You quickly sobered up and awkwardly picked yourself up from the grass and tucked your hair behind your ears.

"Uh. . ." Your started, glancing between him and your friend who was still sat, leaning back on her hands. She shrugged and you spotted her concealing a smirk.

"I know these pumps are a pain. I can do it for you, if you'd like?" He insisted, talking with his hands.

"Sure. Thanks." You stand back, shyly covering your bikini-covered torso with your hands cupping your burnt shoulders.

You watch him. He takes off his green shirt and discards it as his feet. His calf muscles flex and tighten as his leg starts pumping. The flamingo finally starts to grow and form into something more than creased blob of plastic.

"He's trying too hard to impress us." Your friend whispers in your ear, her eyes never leaving the generous brunette. You shush her and she laughs breathily.

"Don't. He's sweet!"

He morphs into a squat, his boxers' waistband now on show, as he secures the lip of the air-hole.

"Think I've pumped enough air into 'em—"

"Her." Your friend interrupts him.

". . . her, sorry. I'm Harry, by the way." He blinks.

Harry. You've always liked that name.

"I’m Y/N—oh, and this is Y/f/N. Thank you for helping us." You smile.

"Not a problem. Be careful on the water, heard it can get uh.. quite blustery out there." Harry starts backing away, waving a hand up as a 'goodbye.'

You and your friend share a look; her lips crinkle-up in disgust whereas yours morph into a flattered smile.

"Hey, don't make that face. He was cute."

"He was cringe, Y/N."

"So that's how we first met. Ever."

"And then later on that same day he came and saved me with his fancy little jet ski." You finished, biting your bottom lip with a smile.

The interviewer nodded, "Okay, I need to hear the rest of this story! You say he saved you? What happened?"

Harry sighed and raised his brows, "I had warned her to be careful. She wasn't exactly sober when I met her a second time that day..."

You gently wack him with your hand and he grunts. "I'd had two beers!" You looked back at the camera-guy, "I wasn't drunk."

"She was."

You were about 150 meters out from shore, bobbing up and down ever-so-lightly on the pink flamingo; a half-finished can of Brewdog in your left hand, resting lazily on the ring. Your toes paddled in the murky waters keeping you cool despite the 27° heat practically penetrating into your skin.

With your head comfortably tilted back, you hadn't realised exactly how far you'd floated from you and your friend's little sunbathing spot on shore. Eventually, you tuned back to reality after daydreaming your way for many yards away from Y/f/N. No longer hearing Tove Lo blasting from your tiny travel speaker, you lift your head up along with your sunglasses. You scan the water.

"Oh, fuck. ." You palm your forehead. "Bloody hell."

You seethe a storm of cusses and sit up straighter. "Great. How on earth am I going to get back?"

You spotted the beer can in your hand and don't think twice to down it in one. You looked around. Then looked around again; and again for a third time, your tipsy-brain half-expecting for some magical sea animal to appear and push you back to shore.

But this is Windermere Lake in Cumbria. The only possible magical creature that could sail you back to shore was the element of wind, and for the first time in possibly forever, it was not a windy day in England.

You flinch at the distant buzzing noise ‘near’ your ear, flapping your hand to scare away the imaginary bumble bee. But in reality, a couple of jet skis were coasting the water, creating minor waves that bobbed you up and down.

“Oi! Hey!” You yell, speech slightly slurred as your rock on the floaty. “Stop making those fuckin’ waves!”

A guy on one of the two jet skis, casted a long glimpse over at you as his water-ride slowed. He yelled over his shoulder, making some remarks with one of his arms at his friend before steering over towards you.

You frown and swallow, sitting up a bit as this stranger approaches you. He’s shirtless and wearing a crimson life jacket.

‘He’s wearing flip flops..’ you think to yourself, spotting the green shoes on his feet.

“Y/N. Fancy seeing you again.” The guy jeers, a smirk tugging at his lips. He circles you, his eye never leaving yours.

“You know my name?” You cock an eyebrow at him, a small scowl of disgust at his cheekiness.

“Hmm. .” He hums. “That makes it sound like I’m some stalker-creep guy. Not pleased. I’m Harry. We met earlier?”

Earlier, earlier, earlier? You wrack your brains. The alcohol fuzzed your memory slightly but you do recall a particularly random interaction with a particularly random dude.

“Oh, right. Hi. . . again.” You feel you cheeks tie-dye into a colour resembling embarrassment.

He eventually stops circling you after a fifth time, which you’re internally thankful for as he’d started making you feel dizzy.

“Are you stuck out here?” He squints at the lake, realising you’re both dead centre of it. “I can help you get back, if you’d like?”

Your ego says NO. How embarrassing was it having to have the same guy to help you out twice in one day; a guy you just met! But your brain still had a ration of sense in it; you wanted to get back to Y/f/N and stand on solid ground.

“I hope you realise how much I want to say no right now, Harry.”

He laughs, lowering his head and shaking it. You kick a splash of water at him with a smug look.

“Come on, Trouble. Hop on and I’ll take you in.” He beckons you, shuffling on his seat to make more room for you on the back.

Trouble. Trouble? You can’t tell whether to laugh, cry, smile or take offence to that nickname.

“‘M not trouble..” You mumble as you attempt to clamber from the inflatable. “Do you always wear those silly vests?”

Harry smiled with mixed expressions of embarrassment, offence and amusement. He looks down at the life jacket.

“Don’t go insulting my life jacket while you’re out here on a ten-quid floaty. I’d rather look silly while having fun rather than. . look ‘cool’ and drown.” Was his reply, cheeky as usual. “Which would you rather?”

“At least I’d die and look good.”

“At least I won’t be dying. Now come on, take my hand.” His hand reaches out, clasping yours and ready to hoist you onto the back of the jet ski. You awkwardly balance on the inflatable, knees shaking as you prepare to leap onto the vehicle.

Instead, you launch yourself a metre underwater and Harry pulls you back up.

“Jesus Christ, are you alright?” His voice is low and grave as you resurface and gasp for a breath.

The water is numbingly cold and with desperation you pull yourself up. You cough, spluttering and spitting into the water bellow.

“Ergh. I think—I think I just swallowed something!” You reach a hand up to your mouth attempting to scrape whatever it was from your lips.

“I had a firm grip on you. Why on earth did you—well, I don’t even know what you did.” Harry’s body is twisted, facing you.

Your eyes dart up at him and he takes that as a sign to start driving.

“What about your float—”

“Just drive, Harry.”

“And then after that, we shared each other’s Tumblr usernames and it just went on from there. . .” You finish, your smile wide. “We were too cool for contact numbers, I think.”

“Wow! So what did you think of Harry when you first met?” The interviewer asked, clearly very amused by your story.

“I thought. . . I thought he was charming; very charming. I’ve always looked back and admired how confident he was to approach us but he wasn’t cocky a single bit.”

“And Harry? What were your first impressions of Y/N?”

Harry paused, “Fun. I got the impression that she was a very fun and bubbly person; ya know, those people you just always want to be around?”

“And were you right?”

“Absolutely. She is my person. And she’s so fuckin’ pretty so I couldn’t ask for more.” Harry leans down and drops of kiss in your hair.

“Alright, thank you guys! Have a great day.” The two guys held up a hand and walked away, leaving you and Harry to continue your New York stroll.

“I loved that.” You whisper up at him, his green eyes bright with love and adoration. You appreciated those two (obvious) TikTokers approaching you and asking about your love story.

“I love you.”

“I love you, H.”

⭐️

[heyjudeb]

Lake Secrets - Jude Bellingham

Chapter 3: Favorite Poem

Summary: Grace Alexander Arnold, an architecture student, looks forward to a quiet summer at her brother Trent's lake villa. Her plans change when Trent's best friend, Jude Bellingham, arrives with his family. As Grace and Jude spend more time together, a secret romance begins to grow. Amidst the peaceful lake and family gatherings, will their hidden feelings last, or will they fade away with the summer? Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: fluff, physical contact, crying, angst

Note: The story will develop more in this chapter, they will share intimate moments

"You can trust me, Grace."

She kept tugging my arm, trying to pull me back from the edge of the lake. I didn't want to push her too hard and scare her. I just wanted her to know that she could feel safe swimming again. After all, I was with her, and I would never let anything happen to her.

"Jude," her voice cracked, tears welling up in her beautiful green eyes. "I trust you, but this is different."

"Let's just put our feet in the water, that's it," I said, giving her an encouraging smile and wiping her tears with my thumb. "I'll carry you back anytime it gets too much for you."

She didn't seem entirely convinced or ready, but she followed my lead. I took off the hoodie I was wearing. We were both in shorts and t-shirts, taking off our shoes too.

As soon as the water touched her feet, she clutched my arm. "Jude—"

"It's okay, sweetheart," I murmured softly, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. She took a shaky breath and nodded, but her body trembled with each step forward. It felt almost like torture, making me feel guilty, but I wanted to be the one to help her through this.

"Jude, I... I can't," she whispered, her voice breaking.

I turned to face her, my thumb gently rubbing the back of her hand. "You can, Grace. I'm right here with you. Just one step at a time."

We kept walking until our knees were covered by the water. She held onto my arm the entire time, her grip never loosening. As we reached that point, she started to panic even more.

"Jude, let's stop here, please," she began sobbing, clutching my chest. "We’re too far already." I held her face gently, placing my forehead against hers. In a quiet voice, softened by the night’s darkness, I whispered, "Grace, sweetheart. I'm here with you. I've got you."

I fought the urge to kiss her. She said she trusted me, but I wanted to show her that I would never let anything happen to her. This was just a traumatic moment she needed to overcome.

"Take a look around, sweetie. It's just you and me." I held her close to my chest and slowly moved us toward the water, swaying gently. "The water is calm. We're steady. We're okay." She hiccuped against my chest, trying to suppress her sobs and clutching onto me for dear life. With each step we took further into the lake, I tried to help her get comfortable, keeping my arms around her the whole time. I whispered sweet nothings into her hair, kissing her head gently from time to time.

Despite her fear, I wanted to keep this moment forever—her close to me, trusting me completely to lead her. "Jude," she spoke softly after some time, her words vibrating in my chest, halting our progress.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"It's okay. I got in. Now, let's stop here, please." The water had come up to her waist, and I agreed it was a good place to stop for her first try.

"Okay, honey." I slowly lifted her head from my chest, and she immediately found my hands to grab, not wanting to detach herself from me. "You did amazing. Look at how far you've come." She gave me a faint smile with tears running down her cheeks, her face quickly returning to a fearful expression. We stood there holding hands, facing each other. I didn't want to disturb this peaceful moment we had. I watched her beautiful face, looking angelic under the faint moonlight. She kept her eyes shut anytime a small, unnoticeable wave would hit her waist. I always squeezed her hands in reassurance.

"Don't let go of me, please," she said with her eyes shut, another round of tears coming from her closed eyes.

"Never," I replied softly, wiping each tear gently with my thumb. I felt her grip tighten, and I gently pulled her closer, our bodies almost touching. "Just breathe, Grace. Focus on the sound of the water and my voice."

She took a shaky breath, her eyes slowly opening to meet mine. "It's just—" she breathed quicker, trying to recall memories. "It's scary for me. I feel like anytime I get in the water, something bad will happen. Things will pull us underneath." "I know. But, it's just your mind doing that after what you've went through. I wouldn't put you up to something that would hurt, now. Would I?" "No," she gave me a faint response. I brought her hands to my lips, kissing them softly. "I know, sweetheart. Just take it one step at a time. We don’t have to go any further than this if you’re not ready. Right now, just focus on us, standing here together. Feel the water—it’s gentle, it’s calm. Just like we are right now." Her body relaxed a bit after our talk, but every now and then, she glanced anxiously back toward the shore, worried about the return.

"You have such beautiful eyes, Grace," I said gently, unable to keep my feelings to myself any longer. In that intimate moment, I wanted her to know how special she was to me.

She looked at me directly for the first time since we stepped into the water, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of vulnerability and emotion.

She smiled softly, her gaze holding mine in a way that spoke volumes. I leaned in and kissed her forehead gently, wanting to reassure her without expecting anything more. There was no need for her to say anything she wasn’t ready for—she knew where we stood, especially given her connection with Trent.

Despite her trembling from fear, I could feel her shivering from the cold as well. Her eyes kept darting back to the shore, growing more anxious by the moment. It was clear she wanted to return.

"Let's head back, okay? Slowly," I suggested, trying to reassure her as I saw her panic rising again. Though we had just come this way, for her, every step back seemed like another ordeal.

"Hey," I gently held her face, guiding her gaze to meet mine. "Do you want me to carry you this time?"

She nodded eagerly, moving closer to me. I lifted her into my arms, her face resting against my neck, her arms wrapped tightly around me. Her grip was so firm that I didn't need to hold her—she held onto me.

"Relax, Grace. It's all over now," I reassured her softly. She nodded, finally letting her head rest against me and closing her eyes, trusting me completely. I reached the shore faster than we had ventured into the water. Once there, I held her close, sitting down with her still in my arms, cradling her on my lap. My fingers traced soothing paths up and down her back, trying to warm her. She was only wet from the waist down—that's as far as we had gone.

"You did it, Grace," I said, and she smiled genuinely at me for the first time, a sense of pride showing in her eyes.

"Because of you," she lifted her head to look at me. "Why was it so important to you to help me, Jude?"

Her question caught me off guard. I hesitated, unsure whether to reveal that I'd been watching over her since we arrived at this vacation spot.

"Let me throw this on you, it's cold," I said, reaching for the hoodie I had taken off before we entered the water. I draped it over her shoulders, wanting to change the subject. She looked at me, waiting for my response.

I settled her head against my chest once more. "Just relax, take it all in."

She didn't press for an answer anymore. Instead, she closed her eyes and rested her head on my neck. I could feel her breath against my skin as she lightly traced her fingers up and down my arm, offering comfort in return. Leaning against a nearby tree, I closed my eyes as well.

The only sounds around us were the gentle lapping of waves, the distant chirping of crickets, and our synchronized breathing. In that moment, I wished I could freeze time forever. "What's your favorite poem from the book?" I asked, eager to hear her gentle voice against my chest. She always seemed to light up whenever I asked something personal about her.

“'I know that some night in some bedroom soon my fingers will rift through soft clean hair songs such as no radio plays all sadness, grinning into flow,'” she recited softly. "Wow, in the midst of those depressing poems, you managed to find the least depressing one," I joked, hoping to lighten the mood and make her laugh.

She chuckled softly against my chest. "I like all of them," she replied warmly.

In this peaceful stillness, with her soft touch lingering on my arm, I could feel her breaths gradually slowing. Eventually, she drifted into sleep, her grip on my arm loosening. ..... I woke to the warmth of the morning sun on my face, disoriented for a moment before remembering where I was. Grace hadn't moved from where she had fallen asleep in my arms, her breathing soft and steady against my chest. It was a peaceful scene, and I couldn't help but smile as I watched her. I wanted to wake her gently, not wanting to disrupt this tranquil moment. So, I kissed her forehead softly, feeling the warmth of her skin against my lips. Then again, and again, each kiss lingering a bit longer than the last. Her eyelashes fluttered, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she slowly opened her eyes. They met mine, still heavy with sleep but filled with a gentle warmth that melted any lingering tension from the night before.

"Good morning," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.

"Good morning, how come we fell asleep here?" she said back to me, pulling gently from my arms to stretch and rub her eyes awake.

"We were too comfortable, I guess," I replied with a slight shrug.

She looked at me and smiled. "I know I was." "Me too." Gosh, I really wanted to kiss her soft lips. The sunlight streaming through the trees, illuminating her hair and making it glow, didn't help either.

"They must have woken up by now, back at the house," she said, standing up and reaching out her hand to me. I stood up after her.

"Yeah, I think so too. Are we going to tell them we spent the night here?" I asked, genuinely wanting to clarify before saying anything that might make her uncomfortable around the others.

"Let's just say we got up early for a walk," she replied nervously, but I just smiled and nodded in agreement. ..... "Oh, hey, early birds. Good morning!" Mom greeted us cheerfully as we made our way towards the porch. I exchanged a glance with Jude, both of us feeling the weight of our unspoken night together.

"Good morning, Mrs. Dianne!"

"Good morning, Mom," I replied, moving in to give her a hug.

"Why up so early, darling?" Mom's curious gaze shifted between Jude and me as she set the breakfast table. She had no idea I hadn't even come home last night.

"We both woke up at the same time and decided to go for a walk," I said, stealing a glance at Jude for confirmation.

"Yeah, the weather is perfect in the morning here."

"That's nice. Grace, can you go grab the glasses for me from the kitchen, honey?" Mom's request broke the moment, and I nodded, heading inside. The kitchen was just to the left of the porch door. As I stepped into the kitchen, my eyes landed on my book resting on the dining table. A smile spread across my face involuntarily. The memories of last night washed over me, filling me with a gentle warmth. Jude had been incredibly lovely and caring. Despite my attempts to keep my emotions in check and maintain some distance, I couldn't deny the pull I felt towards him. I had trusted him completely last night, and his behavior left me wondering if there was more to our connection than I had thought. "Morning, sis. I see you stole my morning run partner," Trent's voice rang out as he appeared behind me, reaching up to help fetch the glasses from the top shelf.

"Oh, yeah, didn't intend on it, though," I replied, trying to sound casual. His presence reminded me why I shouldn't entertain any hopes about something happening between me and Jude. Jude and Trent have been best friends since they first played together for England. Trent thinks highly of Jude, always speaking positively about him and treating him like a little brother. That's why he doesn't suspect anything between us. ..... As the evening progressed and we gathered around the fireplace for our usual wine time, the conversation drifted into a playful debate about breakfast foods.

"I'm telling you, a full English breakfast beats pancakes any day," Jude declared with mock seriousness, taking a sip of his wine.

Trent, always ready to challenge Jude, raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious? Pancakes are the epitome of breakfast comfort." Their debate quickly escalated into a friendly argument, each defending their breakfast preference. Meanwhile, our parents chuckled at their little fight. In the midst of the debate, I found myself catching Jude's eye now and then. Whenever he spoke or cracked a joke, our eyes would meet, sharing a silent understanding. His warm gaze drew me in, making me feel strangely comforted. Eventually, the evening wound down, and one by one, we bid each other goodnight and retreated to our respective rooms. Stepping into mine, I immediately spotted Jude's hoodie draped over a chair — the second one I had borrowed from him during our stay. Returning it crossed my mind, but I also found myself yearning for another interaction with him before calling it a night.

Navigating the creaky hallway, I softly approached Jude's door and gave a light knock. It didn't take long for him to open it, his smile widening as he noticed the hoodie in my hands. "At this rate, you'll end up with no clothes." I said to him, handing him the hoodie. He chuckled softly. "Seems like it. Though they do serve a better purpose when they're with you." "Also-," he said as he disappeared into his room, returning with a book in hand. My book. "I found it in the kitchen and borrowed it without asking. I wanted to see what you read."

"Oh, that's okay. You can keep it if you want," I replied, but he had already handed it to me. As I took it, I noticed a red bookmark inside, one I hadn't placed there.

"That's okay," he chuckled softly, pointing to the bookmark. "That poem is enough." We exchanged a warm goodnight hug, and I made my way to my room, the book tucked under my arm.

Leaning against the closed door, I opened the book to see what he had highlighted. The words on the page drew me in:

I had resigned myself to dying alone in a small room now she was trying to reshape my master plan.

I couldn't help but wonder if these lines were meant for me. The desire to kiss him rose inside me. I craved the comforting embrace of his arms from the night before. I wanted that closeness again. Desperately. I wanted to feel his hands on my face, on my neck, on my body. I went back to his door. I was about to knock. I wanted to knock. But, I couldn't. I heard footsteps pacing around the other side of the door. He was thinking the same thing. I waited for him to react. The footsteps faded into the room. .......... Hello :) Let me know how you like the series so far and if you want to be tagged. Enjoy! Coming up next:

Chapter 4 Warnings: fluff, crying, angst

[theladycarpathia]

Harringrove Week Day 2

So, my only knowledge of summer camp comes from The Parent Trap, Fear Street and a variety of murder mysteries so I’m kind of amazed there’s no murder in this.  I’m added these prompts to AO3 under the name of Storybelle! 30th July - Last Day of Summer Camp

It is the last day of summer camp and Steve Harrington is a chicken.

“This is literally your last chance,” Robin says, ruthlessly. She’s wearing her Starcourt Camp counselor uniform: red shorts, striped t-shirt and sneakers, her name tag frayed and smudgy with marker after six weeks. Steve had written her a new one that read ‘Chief Bossy-pants’ but had found it stuck to his forehead one morning instead. How she’d broken in and stuck it to his face without waking anyone, he’ll never know.

“I know,” Steve says, in irritation. He’s going around picking up stray tennis balls, because the minute their hour is up, the kids all vanish like smoke without picking up their equipment. Which is how Steve is here, looking in the bushes and listening to Robin.

It’s made worse by the fact that he knows that she’s right. But he doesn’t have to say that to her.

“I don’t think you do,” Robin says, deftly swizzling one of the rackets in her hands. She sucks at tennis….or any sport, for that matter. But it’s okay because they have a system. Steve takes the lead on hikes and basketball, swim, tennis and volleyball and she does the same when it’s time for music, macrame or anything crafty that might lead Steve to gluing his fingers together. They make a good pair and the only reason Steve signed on for this gig was because he’d been guaranteed to be partnered with Robin, leading a rag-tag group of twelve year olds through assigned activities and supervised fun. 

It hasn’t been bad, by any means. The kids are quirky and a little mouthy but nowhere near some of the terrors he’s seen other counselors trying to wrangle. One of Jonathan’s kids, Troy, has been in time out at the Big House at least seven times. That means no fun, no swim time, and cleaning under the watchful eye of Hopper, one of the camp owners. Steve had pegged him as a terrifying shit, not to be messed with the week of orientation. He kind of has to admire the balls on Troy for ending up there so often.

Not that it’s been smooth sailing. Erica, one of Chrissy’s little ten year olds, frequently slips away from her own group to annoy her brother, Lucas. Mike is completely smitten with Hopper’s daughter, El, and got busted sneaking out after lights out to see her. Max, from Robin’s cabin, Foxglove, punched another kid in the face on day two. And Dustin promptly hit a shuttlecock at a beehive, causing the entire sports area to be cleared out for the day.

It’s not been bad, Steve thinks. He could come back next summer. There’s something about the cool breeze from the lake, the sparkling water as the sun rises, the warm smell of pine. This whole place feels like the front of some postcard, the kind that the kids write every Sunday to be posted home and assure their parents that this place is the best and may they please, please come back next year. Some kids, like Chrissy and Barb, have been coming their entire lives, aging out of being a camper and into being a counselor. 

Some, like Steve, get blackmailed into getting a job after they graduate high school by their dads.

Steve hadn’t expected much. He thought he’d eat some burgers, earn some cash and get his dad off his back. Hang out with Robin during their two nights off a week and maybe get a tan. 

He had not expected to get punched in the gut with an overwhelmingly out of control crush that threatens to devour him from the inside out.

“And yet you’re still hiding out here, with me.” Robin drops the rackets back in the bucket and dusts off her hands. The heat of the day has turned everything a little hazy, a coating of sweat and dust on the back of Steve’s knees. The kids had flagged majorly, so Steve had sent them off with Nancy early to go to the canteen for drinks. No one in their cabins is all that good at hitting the ball anyway. No one except El, who is truly frightening and possibly moving the ball with mind control. 

“You are my best friend,” Steve points out, prodding in the undergrowth for the ball that Will lost. How the kid hits anything when he flails that much astounds Steve. “Although currently I don’t know why.”

Robin makes a face. Their friendship is an odd one, based on trashy 80s movies, Taylor Swift and a complete desire to get out of Hawkins as soon as they’re physically able. And Steve’s not going to get the funds for that while his dad disapproves of him, so right now they’re saving up and a long year of minimum wage in his father's company looms looms when Steve gets back home.

“Fuck you, I’m a delight,” she says cheerfully, tucking a loose stray of golden brown hair back behind her headband. “I’m just saying that you could have had a way better summer if you’d not been such a wuss and actually gotten some.”

“Like you have?” Steve mutters, in a far grumpier tone that he’d normally allow for Robin. “What exactly have you done with Vicky this summer?”

“Enough,” Robin says cagily, leaning against the wall of the sports shed. Robin’s summer hasn’t been entirely without romance; she’d definitely vanished into dark corners on their nights off, reappearing with smudged lipstick and a dreamy smile. She’d also been nowhere to be seen during the Fourth of July fireworks, leaving Steve with their combined rugrats and covering for her with Hopper when he’d done his rounds. Steve can’t even resent her for it - if he’d gotten his act together, she would have done the same for him. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because she’s coming back to Hawkins. She’s working at the coffee shop so she’ll come into Kit and Caboodle on her breaks. California is a thirty-two hour car ride away.”

Frustrated, hot and more than a little heart-sore, Steve throws the last ball back into the basket with force. He knows how far California is. He’d Googled it the first night they were here, along with flight costs. He’d lain awake in his bunk, staring at the ceiling and hoping that none of the kids would wake up and see the glow of his phone.

It wasn’t worth it. Long distance doesn’t work out, everyone knows that. And even if it did, there’s no way that Billy Hargrove would ever look twice at him. 

“It’s too late now,” Steve says, hauling the various equipment tubs back into the shed. There’s no point asking Robin to help, not when her upper body strength is limited to picking up her trumpet. 

“It’s not too late, until he gets on a flight with Max!” Robin slaps her hand against the door for emphasis, looking like she wishes it were Steve’s head instead.

“He’s not gay,” Steve counters, kicking the last basket in and slamming the door shut.

“Steve, you are the definition of a useless bisexual,” Robin says in exasperation, stretching her long arms over her head. They need to go retrieve their munchkins from Nancy and head to scrap-booking, and their last swim session before it’s time for the scavenger hunt and the last night barbecue. Tomorrow morning the kids will have to pack, tidy up and have tearful goodbyes as they’re shoved onto various buses to ferry them home. 

And Steve goes back to a normal life, sad and alone and mourning the fact that he never got to lick Billy Hargrove’s collarbones. 

“Well, I don’t have the most practice with it,” Steve counters, setting off towards the path that will take them back to camp. He needs an ice cold coke and an aspirin, before he can even think about mentoring emotional children through making a glittery, sticky photo album of their memories. “Realizing I’m bi after one sloppy make-out session with Tommy H last year didn’t exactly give me time to hone my gaydar.”

“Mine has been in action since Sammy West in Second Grade,” Robin says, easily falling in step. In the distance, Steve can make out Chrissy’s bouncing red ponytail glinting in the sun as she and Eddie try to corral their collective kids. Steve returns Eddie’s peace sign and keeps walking. “I could pick out every queer counselor the day we arrived and your boy, Billy, is definitely one of them.”

“Maybe he is, but that doesn’t mean he wants anything to do with me,” Steve says, his words coming out a lot sharper than he intends. Robin’s face is gentle, almost pitying, as she loops his arm through hers. He leans gratefully against her, trying to appreciate this last moment that’s just the two of them. Even now, he can hear the raucous noise that comes from the canteen, poor Nancy trying to wrangle three separate cabins by herself. The next time they’ll have any peace is when they wave the cabins off tomorrow morning and the thought of it gives Steve a strange pang. He’s going to miss these kids, these people. He didn’t expect to make friends but he has. 

“Or maybe you’ve been too sunk in your one-person pity party to see what’s right in front of you,” she says, and then doesn’t mention Billy again as they retrieve their kids and head off to Arts and Crafts.

***

“Can’t you take them?” Steve whines, as they follow the trail of kids down the path to the lake. Everyone is in their swim gear, clutching towels and almost off the walls with excitement at the chance of leaping into Lake Nora one last time. Robin and Steve follow at a more sedated pace, Robin through disinterest and Steve through reluctance. 

“No,” Robin says, ruthlessly. “This is your wheelhouse, Harrington. You were swim team and swim captain and my coordination on land is lacking, never mind in the water. The kids are going for their last swim. Don’t fuck it up.” 

“He’s going to be there,” Steve mutters, kicking at a large stick and sending it flying off the path. Robin rolls her eyes.

“No shit,” she says. “He’s the lifeguard. Hey! Don’t you guys dare jump in without us! Line up, you know the rules!”

The kids all screech to a sudden halt by the water’s edge, not daring to defy her orders. Steve has to admire her for that. They worked out a good cop/bad cop routine pretty early on and no one - not even Mike - dares disobey Robin’s rules. 

Steve, they walk all over. He can’t quite bring himself to mind though.

But he really ought to work on the discipline thing before he has kids of his own.

He and Robin scramble down the last section before the trees open up and reveal the clear, sparkling water. Steve takes it all in for one last time, trying to preserve this in his memory. The bobbing kayaks, the kids giggling as the water laps their toes, the bright light glinting off the dock. Everything exactly like this.

“Alright, towels down,” Robin instructs, a lighthouse in among the sea of kids. “Earrings out, Max? El, need a hair tie? Angela, if you make faces, you won’t go in! If I have to discipline you for splashing again, you won’t go to the last barbecue! Okay, ready? Go!”

The kids hurtle away into the water, immediately churning up the stark, clear blue with bubbles and foam and tiny legs and arms immediately strike out in a desperate race out to the buoy. They’ll swim out and come back, to see who’s first, and then they’ll spend the rest of the time bobbing up and down and chasing each other.

“Will will win,” Steve says, shielding his eyes against the sun as he watches the bobbing heads compete to be the first to the buoy. “He’s gotten good.”

“Max isn’t far behind,” Robin comments, shifting a few towels away from the frothing water. The distinct red plaits are definitely close behind but what physical skill Will lacks on land, he seems to have taken to swimming like a fish. They’ve done this all summer, betting on which kid will win the race, who’ll make the most goals, who will be the first one to fall out of the kayak.

“I don’t want to be around her if she loses,” comes a voice from behind them and Steve turns.

He hadn’t known, okay? If you went back three months and told him that he’d meet the fucking love of his life at a fucking summer camp, he’d laugh in your Goddamn face. He’s Steve Harrington and he doesn’t do love anymore. He tried that two years ago and all it got him was humiliation and a broken heart.

Billy hadn’t even turned up that first week. He’d come late, with Max, and when he’d gotten off that bus - leather strap on one wrist, blue shirt sleeves rolled up his tanned forearms and sucking on a diet coke - Steve’s entire world had moved. 

When he doesn’t see Billy for a while, he can almost forget. And then, out of the blue, it’s like a lightning bolt, frying every nerve in his body and stopping his heart dead in his chest.

Billy grins at him, entirely unaware of what it does to Steve. He’s wearing his favorite aviator sunglasses, pushed back over his golden curls. Save for the flip flops, red regulation swimming shorts and a whistle around his neck, he’s completely naked and it’s just miles of golden skin from the mole on his left knee to the delicate curve of his collarbones. 

Steve is so fucked. 

“She was born competitive, I swear,” Billy says, tipping his glasses down onto his nose and squinting at his stepsister in the distance. The kids are paddling back now, although the usual suspects have begun to flag. Dustin is last, Steve notes, and Max and Will are still fairly neck and neck in the front.

“I remember,” Robin says dryly, no doubt recalling the day Max had shoved a scrabble tile up some kid’s nose when he’d cheated. “Has she always been like that?”

“Don’t ask about the Monopoly incident of 2017,” Billy says, with a wince. He takes another step forward, bringing him level with Steve and it’s just enough to feel the warmth from Billy’s skin.

Steve doesn’t quite get Billy’s family dynamics. Max is his stepsister but he refers to their parents as Susan and Mark. Steve knows for a fact that Billy’s dad’s name is Neil so he isn’t quite sure how Billy ended up with Susan and Max when his stepmother remarried.

Not that it seems to matter - Billy and Max argue and adore each other in equal measure. She shows off to get his attention and he affectionately calls her a shithead, while saving her his share of dessert. Their relationship is something odd and incomprehensible to outsiders. Billy even writes postcards to their parents, wistfully mentions Susan’s cooking, bubbles about how Mark is going to help him fix up this old car when they get back to Cali. Billy doesn’t seem to mind that none of his family actually share blood.

Steve can’t quite understand: he’s currently in a shitty stand off with his dad, even though they both know that Steve will cave and come work for him. But Robin just graduated and her part time gig at the craft shop hadn’t really wracked up the funds so Steve might as well make decent money before they leave Hawkins in their dust.

It chafes, being forced into a box that he doesn’t want. Even if it’s for a year, before he and Robin get in the car and go, Steve feels like something is being carved out of his chest that he just can’t get back.

Will and Max stumble onto the shore, both breathing deeply.

“Who won? Was I first?” Max asks, a brilliant flush to her pale cheeks. Steve and Billy share a look.

“It was a tie,” they say in unison, rather than confess that they hadn’t really been watching. Steve’s attention had been on the patch of skin by Billy’s wrist, a faint strip of white made by Billy’s bracelets. 

Max pouts a little but forgets about it when El comes up behind her. The rest of the group traipse out of the water, one by one, catching their breath after their race. Billy elbows Steve and points to the tiny dot still out in the water.

“I think Dustin’s flagging,” he says. “Do you want to go, or shall I?”

Steve stares into Billy’s sharp blue eyes and wishes he’d been braver this summer.

“I’ll go,” he says, instead of the words he’d really meant to say and heads out into the water.

***

Steve sucks some barbecue sauce off his fingers and thinks that he’s going to miss Murrary’s cooking skills most of all. The man only breaks out his culinary abilities for big events, like these barbecues and the end of color war, but the man is a fucking genius.

“You’ll be sick,” Robin says, looking at his plate with disgust. “That’s too many ribs.”

“Au contraire, my good woman, it is not enough ribs,” Eddie counters, looking at a bare bone with what can only be described as love. Robin groans loudly and turns back to her potato salad. 

The last night's barbecue is everything that Steve could have hoped for. The evening is warm, with the faintest summer breeze and Steve’s happy and full. The kids are on such good behavior that the junior counselors get to sit together, so long as they keep a general eye on their charges. Not that anyone is going to risk pissing off Hopper on the last night - rumor goes that the last kid who messed around on the last night was made to scrub every toilet stall instead.

Steve chucks another bone back onto his plate and wonders vaguely if he’s eating to smother his feelings. His friends seem to have coupled up over the summer without him noticing. Nancy and Jonathan, still going strong, to Robin and Vicky’s new relationship to the surprise twist of Eddie and Chrissy lounging against each other like they can’t bear to be apart.

Steve bites viciously into another rib. It’s fine. He’s going back to Hawkins the day after tomorrow and he’s fine about it. He’ll be sad and single and pathetic and it’ll be a repeat of his job last summer where the girls couldn’t get past the stupid sailor outfit. He knows there’s some stupid mail-room get up waiting for him, payback for not agreeing right away.

Billy is hanging out with the other lifeguards, all of them now wearing the regular uniform rather than their swimsuits and whistles. That douche-bag, Shaun, is lounging in a chair like he owns the place and several girls adjusting their straps, soaking in the last of the summer sun. Heather Holloway offers Billy a plastic cup and as he takes it, Billy slings an arm around her shoulders and tugs her in closer, teasingly covering her eyes with his free hand. Steve’s gut twists unpleasantly at the sight and he turns away. He’s no longer quite so hungry.

“He’s not dating her,” Robin says, having followed his line of sight. 

“Who’s dating who?” Nancy says, her reporter ears apparently still working even on summer break. Her hair is curling softly around her delicate face, loose from its usual ponytail. Steve still vaguely remembers running his fingers through that ponytail, in the car, in her room, by her locker.

“Billy and Heather,” answers Vicky, and Steve nearly drops his chicken wing.

“Did you tell her?” he yelps, outraged and Robin merely rolls her eyes. Vicky merely smiles apologetically. 

“She has eyes, Steven,” Robin points out, rather meanly. “I think everyone has noticed.”

“No, they haven’t,” Steve counters pathetically. He’s definitely not that obvious. His friends might be obvious but he’s not. Jonathan’s feelings for Nancy were obvious from space and Robin would start chattering like some anxious tweety bird every time Vicky set foot near her but he’s not like that. He’s Steve. He's cool.

“Who’s noticed what?” Dustin asks, taking large, clumsy steps into the middle of the group. Chrissy whisks a cup of Pepsi out of the way just before he sends it flying. 

“Steve’s crush on Billy,” Robin says before Steve can kick her, thoroughly ensuring that everyone now knows. Dustin reaches the other side of their circle and drops down next to Steve.

“Everyone knows that,” Dustin says, as though it’s old news and Steve covers his face with his hands.

“Everyone?” he asks, barely able to look at Nancy. It’s been several years now since their break up and into their tentative friendship, but out of an unspoken agreement they just don’t talk about stuff like that. She never talks about her relationship with Jonathan. He never talks about his dates with Heidi or Lucy or Sabrina or all of the other not-quite-replacements for her.

Billy doesn’t feel like a replacement. He feels like something new.

“We talk about it in the cabin when you’re doing your hair,” Dustin says, bluntly and Steve groans. Christ, every night all fucking summer he’s used the bathroom last when the kids are all asleep. Apparently, they’ve aired opinions on his love life instead, faking sleep the minute his foot hits the porch. “Can we have ice cream now?”

“Did you finish?” Robin asks sternly, her big-sister need for proper nutrition kicking in. She peers over Vicky’s head to look at the kids' plates, all seemingly empty. “Jesus Christ, Max, you can’t hide the bits you don’t like under the bench!” Robin scrambles up to run damage control but Dustin stays, seeming quite content to hang out with the big kids. Steve would never tell anyone - and while he loves all of his kids, from Max’s stubbornness to Lucas’ goofy jokes to Will’s sweetness - Dustin is by far his favorite. 

“Did you really?” asks Steve quietly, letting Dustin pick a spare sausage off his plate. Jealousy and resentment and loneliness have soured his appetite.

“Well, yeah,” Dustin says, mid chew and not closing his mouth. “But nothing bad. We just think you’re an idiot for not asking him out.”

“Great,” Steve sighs and hands Dustin his plate. “I’ll just add it to my total.”

“Why haven’t you asked him out?” Eddie pipes up curiously, because it’s a valid question and clearly not a problem he’s had, judging by the way Chrissy is curled up into his side. 

You’d think it would. Because he’s Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson and she’s Queen Chrissy. When they head back home, Eddie will return to his job at the local comic book shop and Chrissy will head off for college. And yet, neither of them seem to let it stop them.

Shit, Steve is going to have to make some major life changes if Eddie Munson is more emotionally mature than he is. Because he knows full well why he never got round to asking out Billy and she’s sitting on the other side of the circle, leaning against the guy she left him for. They’ll go to NYU together in the fall, where Nancy will be brilliant in journalism and Jonathan will take perfect shots and they’ll be that power couple everyone loves. 

He can’t deal with Billy just being a summer romance. And he knows what will happen. The phone calls will become less and less. Billy would stop reading his texts. And before you know it, he’s met someone else, someone who’s there and not a million miles away in a dead end town. 

He can’t do it again.

“I need a napkin,” Steve mutters, climbing to his feet and heading off to the table laden with spare cups, cutlery, napkins and sauces. He needs air and space and he really doesn’t need to be told what he should be doing again. He knows, okay? 

He rubs his sticky fingers off with several napkins and lobs them into the nearby bin. Robin has returned to the group, having finally agreed that the kids have eaten enough for their well deserved ice cream. They’ve all clustered around the cart, shouting over the girl on duty there with requests for cherries and sprinkles. With Dustin back among his friends, Steve can finally see how much of an odd man out he’s been, how easily he slipped out. It doesn’t really mean anything, because they’re still his friends and Robin is always his person…but still. Maybe in another lifetime, Billy would be sitting next to him, instead of Heather.

As the sky takes on a softer hue, Steve shuffles over to the ice cream, because it’s still summer and no one said only the kids could have sundaes. But to his actual horror, Lindsay is no longer manning the cart. 

“I thought Lindsay was on ice cream duty?” Steve says, dumbfounded, and Billy leans forward on the counter. A shiny silver pendant swings forward out of his polo shirt.

“She needed a break,” Billy says, easily. The lifeguards had been the ones put in charge of dishing up the ice cream, as the six of them didn’t have any designated kids. This had happened a fair few times over the summer, as Steve had shuffled his kids off to the tuck shop, only to find the man of his dreams sucking on a Twizzler at the counter. “I think your kids wore her out.”

“Yeah, they’re a lot,” Steve agrees. He’s heard this a lot the past two months. “Did Max shove a waffle cone up someone’s nose yet?” 

“Night’s still young,” Billy says, with a shrug. He reaches out for an ice cream scoop and twirls it expertly. “Cone or cup?” 

“I served ice cream last summer,” Steve says, out of nowhere and then wants to kick himself. “At the local mall,” he says, hurriedly. “Summer job. I mean, either’s fine.”

Oh shit. Maybe this is why everyone knows. 

“Cone,” Billy says, mouth twitching. “I can offer chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, caramel, cookie dough, coffee…” He squints down at the labels. “I think this one’s mint?”

“No USS Butterscotch?” Steve jokes and Billy looks up at Steve with a smile so bright that it reminds Steve of the time he and Robin snuck out of their cabins early and climbed up the jungle gym to watch the sun come up.

“Ah, we’ve sold out,” Billy says regretfully, gesturing to the crowds of children dripping ice cream onto their clean clothes. “Little shits.”

“Coffee’s good,” Steve says, because he’d actually eaten the Butterscotch every day last summer and now the smell of it makes his stomach roll. Robin still won’t let him live it down. “And cookie dough, I guess?” Billy scoops one flavor and then the other into a waffle cone and presents it grandly to Steve as though it’s an Olympic trophy or something. 

“Thanks,” Steve mutters, suddenly shy. This is a really good fucking chance - everyone else is preoccupied with their ice cream and the beginnings of the massive bonfire that Hopper’s in the process of building. Not even Robin has spotted them, not with Vicky looping their fingers together like that. This is their last chance to spend time with their friends like this and they know it.

It’s Steve’s last chance too.

But there’s something about Billy’s expectant face that stops him in his tracks. And Steve slowly realizes that he’s been standing here, holding his melting cone and gawking like some idiot for a full minute. Stomach churning, he mumbles a goodbye but as he turns away, Billy calls his name.

“Hey, Steve?” he says. “Want a cherry?”

Steve, in fact, does not want a cherry and doubts very much that it will go with coffee ice cream anyway. But it’s precious seconds with Billy, so he backtracks to the counter.

“Sure,” Steve says, wearily. But Billy doesn’t pull one from the tub. Instead he presses both hands firmly on the counter and leans over it to press a soft kiss to Steve’s mouth. Steve barely has time to appreciate Billy’s lips on his before it’s over.

“Okay?” he hears Billy ask and only then does Steve realize that he’s closed his eyes.

When he opens them, Billy’s eyes are curious, a little bit apprehensive. Like he’s worried he’s going to get kicked out of camp on the last day for kissing another counselor without asking, rather than this being the best moment of Steve’s whole fucking life.

“Yes?” Steve says, unsure why he phrased it as a question. “Why did you…?” Billy’s face drops a little, a worried twist to his mouth.

“Sorry,” he says, running a hand over his dirty blonde hair. He looks really upset now and somewhere in Steve’s barely functioning brain it occurs to him that maybe he should clarify that it’s not an action to be sorry for. “I should have asked. Shit, I’m so sorry. I’ve really liked you all summer and Max said….but I shouldn’t have believed her.”

“Max said what?” Steve says, twisting around to look for her. He now knows that the boys in his cabin talked about him and Billy but he wonders if maybe Robin’s cabin did too. Maybe Max noticed a lot more than just his feelings.

“Nothing,” Billy says, an embarrassed flush to his cheeks now. “I was being presumptuous and an idiot and…” 

Steve’s brain starts working again, a few minutes too late. Because all he can hear is ‘I’ve liked you all summer’ and it just plays over and over on a relentlessly mocking loop.

“Wait, you’ve liked me all summer?” Steve asks, incredulously. Fuck, Robin’s right. He is an idiot and a chicken and a useless bisexual. “But Heather…”

“Is a mate?” Billy answers, looking adorably confused. “Fuck, Steve, I’ve liked you since that first day. I just thought…I mean, I should have known. Dustin told me you used to date Nancy.”

“We broke up years ago,” Steve says distantly, completely unaware of anything but the beautiful boy in front of him. Even the ice cream that’s slowly dripping down his hand barely registers. “She kind of cheated and broke my heart and since then I think I’ve been too afraid to fall in love again.”

“Right,” Billy says slowly, looking stupefied at this sudden load of information.  “But are we going to be okay? I know I fucked up, but are we okay?”

Steve looks up at Billy. He thinks of all the chances he’s had this summer to be brave that he didn’t take. He thinks of Nancy, who loves Jonathan and never once looked back and of Eddie who put his heart out there and finally got the girl he’s loved since the 8th grade. So in the end it’s really easy to step around the counter to Billy and drop his ice cream straight in the bin without having taken one single bite.

“No, this isn’t okay,” Steve says honestly, because there’s no universe where he’s fine leaving this crushed looking Billy behind. Fuck his emotional trauma and fuck what comes next and especially fuck worrying about it.

This time when he kisses Billy he’s able to appreciate every second of it, the warmth of his mouth, the faint taste of cherries on his tongue. Billy’s hand curls around his waist and pulls them together, pressed skin to skin and the urge to lick Billy’s collarbones returns.

“I’m an idiot,” Steve sighs when they finally part, Billy’s mouth deliciously red in the fading light. “I thought you were straight.” Billy snorts loudly.

“Yes, my old man left me behind after the divorce because I’m so straight,” he says flatly, answering the unpleasant question of Billy’s home life. “I would have asked you sooner, I just figured that with Nancy and all, that you weren’t interested. I thought you were still hung up on her.” Steve hastily assesses a few of his actions this past summer.

“I think I have been,” he admits. “But not in that way. What she did really fucked me up. And even though I’ve been crazy about you since the day you got off the bus, I just thought that once you left for California again, it’d be the exact same thing all over again.” Billy swipes a thumb over Steve’s jaw, painfully gentle.

“I’m not Nancy,” he says, trailing his fingers down towards the bare skin revealed by Steve’s open collar. Goosebumps immediately spring up on Steve’s flesh and he wonders if now is the time to call in that favor with Robin so she can cover for him tonight. “And yeah, I know the distance isn’t great. But I don’t know if I’ll always stay in California, or if you’ll be in Hawkins. But I’ve spent all summer waiting for your cabin’s allotted swim time just so I could see you. I’m okay with waiting a bit longer.”

Steve just kisses him again and thinks that he’s going to try to do this as much as possible, until they have to leave the day after tomorrow. He tries not to think about the kisses he could have had this summer or the long year ahead, saving money so he can see Billy on holidays. Maybe Robin would consider moving to California. Maybe the end of this will hurt, but he’s not so afraid of it anymore.

They kiss hungrily, desperately, completely forgetting where they are and who might be watching until a furious tapping on the abandoned counter pulls them back to reality. Steve blinks at Lucas’ little sister, who is now impatiently tapping her fingernails.

“That’s probably a health hazard,” Erica says, tilting her head at them like they’re some sort of spectacle in a zoo. “But for another scoop of cookie dough, I won’t make a formal complaint.”

[imaginependergast]

In honor of your last post, Penderpals pool party! Where: private pool, lake, river, ocean? Who comes? Who wears what in terms of swimwear? What shenanigans go down?

Y'know, I've recently been thinking about the difference between beach people, pool people and lake people. I'm a beach person, and have been since I was a kid, so I kind of bias towards that.

On the one hand, I don't think Pendergast is much of a swimmer or the type to be in water, but I like the idea of him renting out a public pool for the day or whatever the rich person equivalent is. Realistically, it would probably only be for him, Constance and maybe D'Agosta and Hayward (Corrie & Coldmoon if they were around). But let's pretend everyone is invited to a pool party!

Pendergast: Parks his ass in a lounge chair, doesn't swim unless absolutely harassed to do so by Corrie. Or Constance. or Coldmoon. Or D'Agnosta. Maybe, maybe, as a compromise he'll lay out on a pool float in the water. But that risks Corrie (or Coldmoon, or D'Agosta) coming up under him and flipping him off the float. If he got flipped he would be surprised that anyone dared but would be good natured about it, but in that Pendergast-y way where he pretends he's so above it all and being involved in lowbrow fun. He would also sit at the edge of the pool with Constance. He'd be wearing sunglasses and black swim trunks. Would also be regularly reapplying sunblock.

Constance: Since she can now swim she'd be in the water (but even if she couldn't swim she would just wade in the 4-foot end). She'd attempt to do a few laps but realize that shit don't fly during a party so then she'd just wade or sit at the waters edge. If she was absolutely not going in the water she'd have her sunglasses, a nice big hat, a short sleeve shirt and knee-length skirt. Basically what she wore in Crimson Shore. Bathing suit-wise she'd stick to a one piece or retro-style two piece with high waisted bottoms and top with coverage. Not that Constance has any particular interest in "cool" vintage, but it's modern enough but not too much. Pendergast, Diogenes and Coldmoon would be trying not to make their checking her out too obvious. Oh- and we need the authors to pop up and go into detail about how great her titties look in her suit.

Diogenes: In the water, just like in Florida. Spends lots of time in the water and tried to goad Pendergast from the pool. Uses Pendergast's lack of interest in the water to his advantage to chat with Constance. He'd have sunglasses and swim trunks, shorter than knee length but not too short. The color would be dark or some pattern or gradient that used dark colors. He'd also be regularly applying the sunscreen because ginger.

Corrie: She'd be in the water with a tequila drink or beer, in coozy. She'd spend most of the time in the water chilling with her drink, but also chatting with others. Would be party to playfully knocking people off their pool floats or playing pool games. She'd be wearing a bikini top, possibly with swim shorts over the bottoms. Her suit would be black or dark colored.

D'Agosta: He'd be grilling and manning the beer/liquor cooler, first and foremost. Between those duties he'd be in the water, like Corrie, mostly with a beer in hand. If there was a game of chicken going on he'd definitely have Hayward on his shoulders, possibly still with beer in hand. He'd have speakers set up to classic rock or yacht rock and would be vigilant that Corrie not change it to metal or grunge or something un-pool like. He'd be wearing generic swim trunks, probably with Aloha motif, and maybe a t-shirt, at least while grilling.

Hayward: Would be splitting her time between the water and a lounge chair getting some color and reading a book. Would play pool games if it was happening and would be just enjoying the time to relax. She's probably gravitate towards talking to Corrie, D'Agosta and Coldmoon. She'd be wearing a one piece, but one that's more fashionable with the cuts in whatever color she thought flattered her.

Coldmoon: In the water and trying to chat up Constance, and then Corrie when that failed. He'd get in on games and would be holding Corrie up if they played chicken. He'd be mellow and up for anything. Corrie would totally be checking him out because he's an attractive guy close (-ish? maybe? or DILF?) to her age. He'd be wearing whatever swim trunks he thought looked good at Walmart or Target.

Some activities: A chicken championship: Corrie/Coldmoon v. Hayward/D'Agosta where the winner faces Pendergast/Diogenes or Constance/Pendergast (neither of those later matches happen)

Corrie getting into a holding breath contest with Hayward

Canonball contest (D'Agosta wins)

Pendergast gets sunburnt despite his best efforts

Diogenes gets sunburnt despite his best efforts

[theyscreamjade]

Who’s Your Captain?

So! YALL know how much of a hoe I am. I couldn’t just aim for Hange and not give Levi some love. I’m short as fuck too..so, let’s not act as if I’m tall or anything...So! I had to do some hoe things and just..have some fun. Also, My guy @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki is in here~

Disclaimer: Smut! 18+

Kinks: Exhibition, Public Play, Over Stimulation, Jealous Sex.

It was a sticky, hot summer night when we decided to make camp from our escapade. With the Titans nearly obsolete, We finally had a chance to explore the outside world. The fireflies glowed while I changed into a pair of black shorts and a tank top, having my hair in a high sun while the long sunset still glowed in the sky.

“Hey Jade! Dinner’s ready!” Hayden said as I walked out from my tent. “Good, I’m starving.” I said, stretching a bit. I walked over to the bonfire, putting my cape back on as I could feel eyes on me. My suspicions were confirmed when I saw Jean’s eyes quickly snap from my view. I raised my eyebrow in curiosity before shrugging it off.

“Here you go, I made my famous stew!” Hanji said as I cheered softly. “Good, I’m starving!” Sasha said, sitting beside me on the large log. Once all the bowls were individually handed out and our feasting began, the excited Sasha and of course the first to ask for seconds declared something.

“We should play a game!” She said, holding her second bowl. “We can play a game when you’re done eating, you’ll spit all over us.” Connie commented as she rolled her eyes.

“We always had to be quiet while we’re out here but now! We can be as loud as we want and not have to worry about a single thing.” She said happily as Hanji stood up.

“She’s right! Oh, I have a game.” They said before walking to their tent. After a few minutes, I sat my bowl aside as Hanji walked back, holding a cup with a cup full of bottle caps. “Everyone dunk their hand in and pick out a bottle cap, whoever picks out the one with a crown on it. They’re the winner and control anyone they please with a limit of three.” She said as Sasha’s eyes sparkled.

“I have a bad idea about this..” Armin commented softly before following suit with everyone else. I looked at Coca-Cola lid and held it up, showing everyone as Jean held up the crown.

“Well, Your royal highness. You have three people to command to do as you please.” Hanji reminded before sitting on the log again. A small smirk formed on his lips as he turned to Eren. “I command you go swim in the lake.” He said as Eren looked at him with the best shocked face. “What?! No! I’m not going to do that! That’s stupid!” He screamed.

“It’s the rule Eren, you must follow them.” Mikasa said as she downed her water. “Just be a good sport and follow what the king says.” Connie said softly as Eren growled in anger. “Fine!” He snapped as he stood up.

He stormed off, walking toward the lake as we followed like a duck and a bunch of baby ducklings. Once he arrived, he snatched his shirt off as he looked at the cool lake water. “I fucking hate this..” he said to himself before jumping in with a large splash.

He soon jumped back out, splashing a bit at how cold it was. Hayden giggled softly, holding a towel for him while I laughed watching them. “What the you brats doing?” A voice asked, sending chills down my spine while making my heart flutter.

I turned around, seeing Levi stand a few inches away from us. He soon walked over to the group as they salute to him. “You know I could hear you guys from my tent.”

“Sorry sir, We’re just playing a game! Wanna join us?” Sasha asked eagerly as Levi looked at her. “I don’t play games.”

“Oh, don’t be such a sour puss! Here, take a bottle cap and join us!” Hanji said holding the cup to him while shaking it. Levi gave me a small glance before taking a cap out as well, earning a squeal from Hanji. “Well, looks like your king still Jean. Who’s next?” Hanji asked.

Jean looked as Sasha as she quickly threw a potato from her hands as it landed in the lake with a loud plop.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as Sasha huffed in annoyance. “I swear Jean, I’m going to destroy you when I’m king.” She said, lifting her leg up as she gained her balance. “My name is Sasha and I’m the meat and potato queen.” She said before putting her makeshift leaf crown on as we laughed. “N-Now that’s funny!” Connie said as Eren laughed with him.

Sasha snatched the ridiculous outfit off along with the crown, sitting beside me. “Jade?” Jeans said, catching me off guard. “Yes, your majesty?” I asked, standing while doing a bow to him.

“I believe I deserve a smooch from you, don’t you think?” He said as my eyes widened. “A smooch? i-I don’t know about that.” I said, trying to hide my nervousness before looking at Hange as if I’m saying ‘Help me.’

Only a few people knew about Levi and I’s secret relationship which was honestly preferred from both of us. I never liked labels and Levi liked privacy, it was a win-win. Eren, Hayden, Hange, Erwin and lastly Mikasa knew but only because she accidentally barged in while we did the dirty on his desk one night.

“Come on, Just one. That’s all I ask from my gorgeous queen.” Jean said, standing over me as he leaned down. “Come on, Jade! Just give him one!” Connie said as Sasha nodded. “I had to do that stupid dare! You can do this!” She said as Jean moved closer.

I sighed, placing my hands on his cheeks and pulled him close. I placed my thumbs over his lips quickly before kissing him. After a minute, I pulled away as Eren’s completely shocked face read my fate tonight. While everyone replaced the lids back in the cup, I glanced at Levi who stared at me with absolute glare in his eyes.

His silence sent chills down my spine as the game continued until the third person declared that they’re going to bed, before I knew it. Levi and I were alone.

The intense silence and tension so thick that you could cut it as I stared at the slowly dying flame before standing. “I’m gonna get some rest, you should too.” I said, walking toward my tent. A calloused hand grabbed my wrist, catching me off guard as Levi stood up slowly. “Let’s go talk.” He said, pointing towards a nearby cliff.

Damn my submissive ass.

I opened my mouth to make a excuse before he gave me a tug, leading us away from the campsite. I silently prayed that no one would see us or a Titan randomly appear as he lead us away. We stepped down off the cliff, we were away from everyone else and the only thing behind him was open plains of thick grass.

“Okay, what did you want to talk a-“

I gasped, my body colliding with thick rocky under the cliff as his face was inches from mine. “You think you’re just going to get away with kissing my cadet?” He asked a growl in his voice as my eyes widened.

“I-I-“

“I didn’t say speak now, did I?” Levi asked, his hand pinned my wrists over my head as his other touched my hip, fiddling with my tank top while his dark orbs stared deeply into mine. “You’re were such a fucking tease, huh brat? Wearing this and then kissed Jean, no wonder he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.” He said before spanking my ass before gripping it.

“What do you have say?” He asked, while I struggled to keep a moan in. “I-I did...I-didn’t mean to wear this, I-it’s hot and I-I-“ I tried to say as he chuckled.

“It’s funny how you’re usually able to speak your mind but when I have you like this, you’re a stuttering.” He retorted, stopping my excuse. His hand released my wrists, snatching my cape off as his lips slammed against mine.

I moaned softly against his passion, tugging his black silky locs as he scooped me up as if I was weightless. Our bodies moved closer as if he wanted to fuse us into one as the kiss was broken and he latched into my neck, biting and sucking around my collar.

I bite my finger while trying to hide my excitedly, hell I started getting wet when I heard his voice. He had that power over my body. I knew I had to keep it down and hoped no one would even step this way but it was hard with Levi, especially when he knew your body like the back of his hand.

I flinched, feeling two fingers push inside my wet core as I stifled out a moan. “You’re so fucking wet...I wonder who has you like this, nearly drenched for them..” he growled in my ear while pumping his fingers roughly. My right hand gripped his wrist to try and slow him down while my mouth was agape, gasps seeping in while I tried my hardest to keep my moans in but damn it was hard with Levi motherfucking Ackerman.

“What’s wrong? You’re close? You’re close to cumming for me?” He teased while smirking at me. My knees buckled a bit as his left hand lifted my tank top up, pinching my nipple as my moan finally slipped out. The moment his fingers curled, that’s what did it. I couldn’t keep them in, my moans slipped out like small gasps and were only low enough for him to hear before he pulled his hand out of me right as soon as I was about to climax.

My legs were like jelly, nearly losing my balance as I looked at him shocked. “What’s wrong? You wanted me to keep going?” He asked as I nodded quickly. “Why should I let you cum? Especially how you acted today?” He asked while picking my cape off the ground.

“I-I’m sorry, but Levi please. I’m begging you, l-let me cum!” I gasped out, my clit stinging in disarray while I whined softly.

“You said I-“

“Daddy, Please make me cum!” I cried out loud enough for him to hear, closing my eyes while panting softly. “Please make me cum and I won’t do it ever again!” I added as everything moved in a swift movement. My shorts dangled off my ankle that held high in the sky while my other leg barely held up on the ground. I wasn’t even able to adjust to his thick size as he slammed deep inside me.

My wetness drizzled down my legs while my hand touched his hips to slow him down while he hovered over me. “F-Fuck..T-T-Too deep! Fuck me!” I whined, my nails gripping his abs as he ignored my pleas. God someone’s going to hear us, someone’s gonna find out. Someone’s gonna know.

My first climax rushed past as the second was approaching full swing. My legs wobbled before he snatched my other up, letting the other down as I instinctively wrapped them around his waist as I pulled him close. “Look at you, in absolute bliss all because of me..” he growled while smirking, I knew he was. Levi could get cocky at times and fuck was he good at it.

“Who can get you like this, Brat? Who’s Captain of this pussy? Who does it belong to?” He asked, while my nails gripped his shoulders. “Y-you! It belongs to you! It’s Levi Ackerman’s! I-It’s yours!” I screamed, unknowingly while my eyes rolled back. My tongue slipped out, I sucked in deep and quick gasps as my climax slammed into me like a crashing wave.

My toes curled as I squeezed him, squirting all over him. His moan echoed in my head while he gripped my hips, slamming himself inside me at a rough pace until he climax, his tip filling me up while we pant in unison.

Once we calmed down, I moved my hands off his shoulders and kissed his nose. “Were you jealous?” I asked suddenly as he scoffed. “I don’t get jealous over stupid things like that, I knew that kiss wasn’t anything.” He responded while I gave him my best ‘really’ face.

“I just didn’t like the fact he was all over you, if our relationship is public or not. He should understand boundaries.” He finished, setting me back on my feet, grabbing my shorts. “And you are jealous because someone kissed your secret girlfriend, don’t worry Levi. I understand.” I said slipping them on as I fixed my shirt.

“I’ll talk to him in the morning and settle t-“

“Oh Daddy!” Someone moaned in a mocking tone as we paused. My eyes grew as big as saucers as I looked up from the cliff as Eren, Jean and Connie all poked their heads out. “Go captain! Get some!” Eren commented as embarrassment flooded through my body. I looked at Levi as he looked at them with a look he usually gave to Titans, the silent rage in his eyes as he spoke.

“You’re all dead.”

[ikindamissbeingphysical]

5 Times Musa wore Riven’s clothes

Read here or on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29376804

1.

The Alfea Games is a bullshit annual tradition. It's an exam masquerading as a tournament, just a way for the teachers and high rankers of the Kingdom to see who they want to pluck out of the Academy and take for their army, or task force, or some other random position Riven could really not care less about.

Still, he's competitive, and if there's one thing he likes doing, it's beating Sky.

He slashes, a dagger in each fist, at the Burned One projection and it falls to its knees shrieking.

The stands are full of students cheering, and Riven gets a rush at their applause.

"Show off." Sky pants from beside him, as Riven's tally flicks up to 7, and Sky's stays stubbornly at 4.

"Jealous, much?" Riven grins; relieved when the half-time bell chimes because his legs are sore, and the late afternoon sun still burns as it begins to dip out of the sky. He and the other Specialists head over to the shade and he rifles through his rucksack for some water as Sky goes to kiss Bloom, who's leaning over the rail; red tresses swaying in the breeze.

"You were amazing!" Bloom gushes, and Sky beams at her, and Riven mimes throwing up.

Someone laughs.

He turns to see Musa, headphones around her neck, hair in pigtails, and-and-

In his jacket.

She's wearing his jacket. His leather jacket. It's draped over her shoulders. Her bare shoulders, because she's wearing some strapless, form-fitting purple dress, and Riven's coat, she's wearing Riven's-

"You okay, man?" Sky asks, and Riven realises they're all looking at him, and he's still looking at Musa, and her big, brown eyes are lit up a sort of hazel in the red setting sun.

He nods, waving them off, and chugs more of his water, trying to temper his heartbeat.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Musa asks, more quietly, her irises flaring purple. Her eyebrows stitch together worriedly. "You're like- really anxious. It's just a game."

"Stay out of my head." He hisses furiously, petrified that she might be able to see, might be able to tell-

She leans away from him, scowling. "Fine. Whatever."

He's grateful when the bell rings again, but his winning streak is gone. As the flood-lights turn on and the sun disappears, he misses target after target. He keeps getting pinned by fucking rookies and everyone else's tally continues to jump up as his dies on a plateau.

He can see her, in his peripheral, wearing his jacket and she probably doesn't even know it's his. She probably doesn't know how she looks in that leather swamping her frame, the collar resting at her neck, where the skin looks so soft that-

"Fuck, dude," Sky curses, hauling Riven off his ass. "Pull yourself together."

"She's wearing my jacket." He snaps, and Sky looks at him blankly for a moment, before he groans.

"Dude, I know you're like, against sharing, but she was freezing and it was just lying there. I'd have given her mine, but Bloom had already-"

"It's fine, just-" Riven tries to shake it off, "I'm focused."

He can't help a final glance over his shoulder, to see Musa leaning sleepily against the railings, headphones now secured over her ears, resting her chin on her arms. On his jacket sleeves. She's lit by the silver floodlights, and her eyes are half-closed, and he wonders what she's listening to. He wonders-

The Burned One knocks him to the ground, and the buzzer blares.

2.

The next day, traces of her perfume linger on his jacket, swirling around him the way she does, always, in his thoughts.

It's sweet, like honey and vanilla, like home-spun sugar and toffee.

He'd found his jacket right on the bench where he'd left it after the game: the stands empty, the game over. It had been folded neatly and left just beside his things and he'd slid it on and tried not to replay their interaction in his head.

Today's a new day.

As part of Sky's new scheme to become the best boyfriend in the history of boyfriends, they've been sitting with the Winx Suite most lunch times. It's not exactly Riven's idea of a good time. He feels some horrid mix of guilt and irritation whenever he looks at Terra, and Aisha glowers at him like his very proximity will end in her getting a suspension. He spends most of the time arguing with Stella, and trying (failing) not to look at Musa while Sky and Bloom stray the line between PDA and go get a room.

When he gets to the cafeteria and heads for the table, he's surprised, and maybe a little thrilled, to see that it's just Musa at the table.

She stands up as soon as she seems him.

"Good, the others just left. They wanted to have lunch out by the lake. Bloom has apparently ‘found a place’. C'mon, we can catch up."

He has no option but to follow her, and sure enough, half-way across the field is the whole merry-fucking-gang. Riven doesn't know how to feel. Sky could've texted, if his brain was capable of fathoming anything other than Bloom when she was nearby. Were they even going to invite him? Was he going to get to the cafeteria to see an empty table? They probably wouldn't have missed him anyway, he thinks bitterly.

And yet- Musa was there. Waiting.

He looks at her thoughtfully, and her eyes flash purple when she catches him. She winces. "It wasn't like that." She says, "they were caught up in the idea of going there. They weren't purposely trying to leave you behind."

Jesus Christ, can't she just-

"I'm sorry," she barrels on, as they fall into the same steps, almost caught up to the others. "I'm trying to respect your privacy and everything, I'm working on it- my control isn't great at the moment."

"You should work on that." He mutters.

Her shoulders slump dejectedly. "I know."

Well, fuck, he didn't mean to- he swallows hard. "I'm tanking my field training." He says, trying to ignore her look of surprise at this freely-offered information. "Great at everything else, but camouflage? The element of surprise? I'm struggling. It's hard. I also fucking hate it, so there's that."

She huffs out a small laugh. "I bet you just like the thrill of attacking someone face to face. None of that 'sneaking up on you' bullshit."

He grins before he can check himself, and she catches it, and smiles too.

"There you are!" Bloom calls excitedly, "c'mon, we're gonna use Stella's ring."

Riven hates to give Bloom props for anything- and it isn't because he doesn't like her, or anything like that- he's just reluctant to acknowledge anybody's good traits since they all seem so loathe to see any in him- but the lake is nice.

Large and leafy green, surrounded by trees and over-hung by the clear blue sky. There's a sunbeaten deck strutting proudly into the middle, and Aisha strips out of her clothes to reveal a swim suit, and in three great strides, dives in like a dolphin.

The rest of them stare after her in awe.

"Are you always wearing that under your clothes?" Riven asks, toeing off his shoes, watching as Aisha tumble turns and glides through the water like a dolphin. She smiles at him from the water, and he's surprised by the look of it on her face. For the first time, she looks relaxed. Stress-free. Content.

Bloom and Stella change into their swim suits, as he and Sky just strip down to their boxers. Bloom wolf-whistles, and Sky blushes.

Riven puffs his chest out, winking at Stella who scoffs at him. He turns to find Musa. She's shrugged off her coat and shoes, and is rifling through her bag in confusion. She's too pre-occupied to notice his abs. Riven tries not to take offence.

"I can't find my- oh shit." Musa groans, thumping her head. "I left it back in the fire circle."

"Oh! Don't worry, Musa," Terra says brightly, as she sits, fully-dressed, on the mossy bank, with a stack of books beside her. "You can sit this one out with me!"

Musa turns to her with a smile (that to Riven, looks fucking forced) just as Bloom and Sky jump in. They scream, splashing Stella who cannon-balls in after them. Riven watches Musa's face, can see the hidden longing in her eyes.

A part of him wants to tease her, entice her in by saying how much he wouldn't mind if they decided to go skinny-dipping instead, but he knows it ultimately wouldn't work. Instead, he reaches for his discarded black tee, and tosses it to her.

"Should be long enough to preserve your modesty," he says, going for casual and heading for the dock. "Considering you're such a short-arse."

Musa sticks her tongue out at him, but she eagerly turns to get changed and Riven plunges into the lake to resist the urge to watch.

The water is warm and licks at his skin as the sun beats down onto his shoulders. It's deep and he can't quite graze the bottom, and he's suddenly, a little stupidly, grateful for knowing Sky. Grateful that he gets to be here. He floats on his back, staring up at the sky and letting himself just bask in the moment. As the water laps in his ears, he can hear the others laughing, Aisha swimming, Stella screaming, and the sun warms red spots onto his eye lids, marvellous colours in the dark- so he opens them.

Just in time to see Musa standing on the dock.

Suddenly, all his attention is on her. Her long, tan legs on display, his tee, his t-shirt, tickling down past her hips, and she jumps.

Okay. Turns out it's not a leather jacket thing. Anything that's his looks good on her. He could look good on her.

He watches for her when she re-surfaces, as she joins in splashing Stella, and he waits, waits, waits, until- victory.

She swims over to him. A little way away from the group, to where he's treading water alone. The t-shirt clings to her and he wants to touch her and-

"Hey," she says, with wet hair and water droplets on her eyelashes. "Thanks for the tee."

He shrugs. "I'd rather you'd jumped in without anything on."

She hits him, but finally, finally, he gets her eyes on him. They linger, as the water rivets roll down the breadth of his shoulders, his chest, down to- her eyes flicker away, cheeks red.

"Don't be shy," he purrs, "I'm hot. It's not a sin to look. You're hot too. Dancer’s body. Bet you're flexible."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She murmurs, before her eyes flash purple. He tries not to let it irritate him. He hates the violation of his privacy, but he knows she can't control it- but she turns away from him, and he follows her gaze to Terra, sitting balefully alone. "If I do what I'm gonna do," she whispers, and his heart trips up a little, at her whispering to him over the water, pulling him in closer. A secret just for the two of them. "Promise you won't tell anyone."

Riven grins. "I'm great with secrets."

Musa takes a breath, before she stares at Terra, face tense with concentration, eyes shimmering purple.

Riven turns to look at Terra expectantly. "You're mind-controlling her?"

"No." Musa mutters, still focused, "I'm just trying to increase her confidence, trying to-"

Terra looks up suddenly, and Musa hurriedly grabs Riven's arm to move behind him.

"The water does look good!" Terra calls, "is it warm?"

"Oh, it's lovely, Terra!" Musa hollers back, "you should come in!"

"Yes! Join us!" Bloom sings, from her position perched on Sky's shoulders.

Terra wavers. Riven can feel Musa's hand curled around his arm, her body against his back. "I don't have my costume!" She yells.

"You're wearing like five layers," Stella calls, "you can spare one."

Terra chews on her bottom lip, and Riven turns his head to whisper: "can't you boost it anymore?"

"I'm trying." Musa insists quietly, "I can't manufacture it. I can only enhance what's already there."

"Terra," Riven yells, startling her, "if you come in, I'll let you dunk me."

Sky bursts out laughing, and Terra giggles.

"Well, I can't resist that!" She says, getting to her feet. Riven turns away, looking down at Musa who's beaming up at him.

"Wow." She says, pressing her lips together to hide the glee in her tone. "That was very sweet."

"Fuck off." Riven mutters, but his eyes are on the collar of his wet tee as it clings to her skin. "I only did it because that was bloody painful to watch. By the way, is there anything else you can do with your powers that I should watch out for?"

Musa tips her head contemplatively. "Actually, yes." She lifts her hands and cups his face. He startles a little, at her fingertips against his jaw, before he sees her eyes purple and shimmer, and then suddenly, a weird emotion clouds into his head. It's familiar yet foreign, it's-

gratitude?

"It's meant to be gratitude." Musa says, when her eyes are back to normal and she's panting a little, "I'm not great at-"

"I got it." He reassures her, “I felt it."

She smiles, pleased, pushing away from him to swim further to the centre of the lake.

He watches her go, mind reeling. More powerful than he thought, though he's not sure why he's surprised. He can still feel her hands on his face. He wants to swim after her, but Terra and Sky corner him, eager to see him dunked.

3.

It marks a turning point for the group as a whole.

The afternoon at the lake has softened grudges, strengthened bonds, and Terra talks to him more over lunch. Aisha doesn't bore him so much, not now he can see her for more than a stuck-up rule-follower. He and Stella get along as well as they usually do, but their barbs seem less sharp than before. Bloom has always been pretty accepting, and Musa-

Well, she's Musa.

She's making him lose all sense of normalcy, of sanity, because that's the only reason he'd agree to this fucking slumber party.

"No, I think it was better over there." Sky says, changing his mind for the fourth time, as Riven struggles under the weight of the mattress. The entire floor is covered with pillows and cushions and Sky needs to make up his mind before Riven kills him. "No, no, you were right- put it back."

"Jesus," Riven groans, setting it down and spotting the stack of Disney Princess movies. "We're two guys about to sleep with five girls, and you're suggesting we watch Pocahontas?"

"They won the coin toss," Sky shrugs, "besides, I always liked the little hummingbird."

The girls arrive after Laurie, the RI for the floor, has done her final rounds. They shuffle into the room on tiptoes, and Riven closes it behind them, meeting Musa's eyes. Her hair's down and loose around her shoulders, and he's never seen it like that before. In her soft looking, cotton pyjamas, some rainbow sweater, she's more enticing than usual so he busies himself with the popcorn as Sky sets out the rest of the snacks.

"This is a nice set-up, guys," Bloom grins, getting comfy right in the middle. Sky joins her, and soon, the lights are off- bar Stella's glowing little ball- and everyone's shuffling into place.

Bloom and Sky are cosied up to one another, and Aisha and Terra are tucked neatly into one corner. Stella fancies herself above the ground, and lies on Sky's bed, half her attention on her phone.

Musa settles in the other corner, leaning against a mountain of cushions, and Riven debates for about half a second before he joins her.

"Hi," she whispers, sounding pleased, "wanna hear a sad story?"

Their thighs are touching. Her fleece pants are warm against his bare leg, and the cushions are ridiculously comfortable, and she looks so different with her hair down, her face almost obscured from him. "Sure," he whispers back.

She points are her bare feet. "I forgot my socks."

He snorts. "If that's your idea of a sad story-" he breaks off into a hiss when she cruelly presses her toes onto his shin. "Jesus, they're fucking ice." He complains, and she laughs, tossing a kernel of popcorn into the air and catching it perfectly between her teeth.

He reaches over her, feels her entire body stiffen and does his best to ignore it, opening one of his drawers and pulling out a pair of mis-matched socks.

She takes them gleefully, leaning down to pull them on. Her shirt rides up and he catches a glimpse of her lower back, and when she sits up- she catches him. Their eyes dart away from each other, and the first hour of Pocahontas is a stiff, awkward affair. The darkness seems to electrify the space between them and Riven's too afraid to move. Musa seems to be feeling the same way, but then Terra starts singing along with the song, and the the air relaxes a little.

Then, somehow, in Little Mermaid 2, Riven's oddly invested in Melody and her pull to the sea, when Musa sighs, sinking back further into the cushions, resting her body weight on Riven, looking completely content.

"You comfortable?" He teases, and she smiles lazily up at him, wiggling her toes in his socks.

"Very comfortable." She says, and he isn't thinking when he says:

"You're insufferably cute, you know that?"

He regrets it immediately, but it's slipped out, and Musa barely seems to notice his panic. She just yawns, and then she- she- rests her head on his shoulder, and her hair fans down over him, and tickles his arm.

He feels, suddenly, the rather vicious urge to protect her. He's on high-alert, for some reason, for any intruder, because she's here, half-asleep, resting against him. So trusting. So vulnerable, and-

The DVD menu chimes on repeat, and when Riven looks up he realises that everyone else is asleep, and Stella's orb of light has vanished into darkness, and that it's well past midnight.

Slowly, gently, he rests his cheek on Musa's head, feels the way they're tucked in together, and he closes his eyes.

4.

He's not sure how it happened.

How they can go one minute from a group of friends binging Disney movies, to out here, in the woods, watching Bloom's fucking fire wings and surrounded on all sides by Burned Ones. Real ones. Not projections.

The girls are all glowing, eyes burning, and there's splashes of water, tangling ivy, shooting flames, blinding light and Musa: shouting locations as she tracks them.

"Try to project lethargy!" Aisha screams, clutching one arm, as Sky slashes a Burned One along the chest.

Riven jams two sharp jabs into the torso of another, and growls over his shoulder. "She's already fucking tracking them, Aisha! Why don't you just water-board them some more?"

Musa doesn't mediate their bickering, just whirls and points and says "Another three over there, I can sense them. They want Bloom!"

Sky and Terra immediately run over to Bloom, who has fire burning along her shoulders, and it's so arresting a sight that Riven doesn't even notice when the Burned One crumbles into ash beneath him.

He doesn't notice when another hisses just to his left. He can't get his blade out in time, and it has one deformed hand around his throat, claws pricking into his skin when Musa's suddenly shoving him away, taking his place, and he just has time to notice, to scream- when she lunges forward, and stabs the monster in the chest. It howls, and she yells out in unison, her voice shaking with agony, a sound that'll haunt him.

The Burned One crumples, and Musa with it.

"Musa!" Stella cries, racing over, trying to get closer, but Riven blocks her, taking Musa's chin in his hands, tilting her face up. There are tears stained along her cheeks, and her eyes are still rimmed purple.

"I felt it," she gasps, clutching Riven's arms, still shaking, "I felt it die, I felt it-"

"It's okay." Stella insists, voice shaky, rubbing Musa's back. "You did amazing, you did so great."

Musa clenches her eyes shut. "I've gotta- I can feel more of them."

"Take a minute." Riven pleads, trying to catch his breath, feeling blood move sluggishly down his own neck. "Take a minute, you just fucking saved my life, you're allowed a goddamn minute."

His entire being seems to light up at the small, strained smile she gives him. Stella sees the smile too, so she shoots Riven a look that says keep going, moron.

He doesn't need her prompting. "And what a sexy knife move. Where'd you get that blade?"

This earns more of a laugh from her. Relieved and a little hysterical sounding, but a laugh nonetheless. She holds the blade up, and its blue handle glints in the moonlight. "Stole it from you." She says, and he wants to tell her it isn't the only thing she's stolen from him. She has everything he is in the palm of her hand, and she saved his life. She hands the dagger back to him, and he shakes his head.

"Keep it. You look hot with a knife in your hand."

Musa laughs again, still a little choked up, and the two of them help her to her feet. He doesn't want to let go for her, but she sniffles, nodding, so Riven just sticks close by the rest of the night.

They defeat the burned ones with minimal injuries. Aisha's leg is broken, and Terra's bandaged it as best she can, as they limp back to the school. Dowling and Silva meet them half way, overflowing with worry and gratitude, and at their insistence, Riven collapses into a bed in the infirmary as they tend to his neck.

They put Musa in the bed beside him, and he sees claw marks on her ribs, and it's a good thing the Burned Ones are dead, because it's the only thing stopping him from marching right out into that forest to have their heads.

5.

He's on his way back from the drinks table, two glasses in his hands, when he notices that Musa isn't there anymore.

Terra points to the back door. "She needed to step out. Mind fairy thing."

Riven nods, setting down the drinks and heading for the exit.

It's a warm summer night, and the air is humid, and Musa's standing out on the grass, gazing up at the stars.

She must feel his mental presence, because she turns and smiles.

He heads over to her, and she steps easily into the circle of his arms, and he holds her tightly.

Here they are. At the Alfea Ball, dating. Their three month anniversary is coming up soon, and Riven has something in mind. He's excited to see her reaction. But right now, he just basks in having her in his arms. She's a vision, in a lace-sleeved, indigo dress, her hair up the way he likes, and heels that mean she doesn't need to tiptoe to kiss him.

"Sorry," she murmurs, "got a little loud in there."

"I don't mind," he reassures, dropping a kiss onto her head. He feels her shiver, so he shrugs out of his tux jacket and drapes it over her shoulders. As pulls it around her, she looks up at him, soft and smiling, and his throat goes a little dry. "What?"

"Nothing," she shrugs, "you just look very dapper in your tux. I'm feeling it." Her hands slide up onto the plane of his chest, and he grins, nipping at her nose.

"Shall we get out of here, then?"

She hums in agreement, but tangles her fingers into his hair to pull him down for a kiss. As usual, the heat flares down to his stomach, and he pulls her tighter to his body.

"We should get out of here," he insists, kissing at her jaw, "or we'll definitely get suspended."

Musa laughs, and she leads the way back to the dorms.

Once there, he whispers, low and greedy into her ear, to take off everything but his jacket.

"Is this some sort of kink?" She asks delightedly, once his tux suit is the only thing on her gorgeous body, and she's straddling him, thighs spread over his, her fingers dragging through his hair.

"I don't know," he admits, even though he knows it's only a thing for him when she's involved. "I think I just look really good on you."

She bites his neck and scratches his down his back, and it hurts and he loves it, and she looks down at the marks like a satisfied kitten with tiger claws. "I look good on you too." She whispers, and he kisses her again.

And again.

And again.

[stufftippywrote]

perfect

Cicadas sing a sharp song in the trees. The heat blisters the pavement. It’s a miserable summer afternoon for most people, which is why Wei Ying loves it. It’s nothing compared to sticky, swampy Yunmeng summers. In dry heat like this, the sun feels good and the trees are brilliant green and Wei Ying loves being alive.

He doesn’t love being in class, but at least everyone is miserable along with him in this heat. Lots of mopping brows, lots of unsatisfied murmurs. Is there any relief to be found in Gusu on such a day? Some have heard there’s a lake a bit further up in the mountains, big enough for swimming. But they’re not allowed to go up there; it’s off limits to everyone but Lan inner disciples. Only Wei Ying knows for a fact that it’s there; that’s because he’s been sneaking off up there every night since summer school started.

Lan Qiren enters and the room falls silent. The frantic wiping of sweat of brows continues, a current of activity in the quiet classroom. Lan Qiren surveys them silently and frowns. He’s sweating, too.

“Due to the excessive heat,” he says, coughing, “the upper grounds of Cloud Recesses will be opened to students for the duration of the day. That includes the lake. The back hills and the waterfall are still off limits.” Nobody picks up this last bit, because the minute Lan Qiren says “lake,” the room starts to buzz with whispers.

Not even Lan Qiren can quell them; there’s a torrent of nervous energy in this room, and it won’t survive an entire lesson. Sure enough, about twenty minutes before the end of the class students start gathering their things as though they’re ready to bolt. Wei Ying knows they’re only waiting for one of them to take the lead, and they’ll all start filing out with or without Lan Qiren’s say-so. Well, that’s a position he’s always happy to fill. He stretches out, grabs his backpack, and leaves the room without a word or a look back.

He heads up the stone stairs carved into the mountain, backpack slung loosely over one arm, whistling to himself. The other students will have some time catching up to him; he knows the way to the lake, and they don’t; besides, they have to go change, and Wei Ying always keeps his swimsuit in his backpack, just in case. So he climbs the stairs solo and pushes through the line of vegetation that lies between the path and the lake.

He’s about to emerge from the trees when a splash draws his attention. Quickly, he hides and peers over at the lake.

Someone’s already there and swimming. Wei Ying sees dark hair, pulled into a neat topknot, and the lines of what looks like a fairly strong body, blurred by the moving water. Some student has beat him to it. Which is a little surprising, because Wei Ying’s the only one with the chutzpah to sneak off in this direction when they’re supposed to be somewhere else. He watches in kind of dumb fascination as the swimmer moves to the near edge of the pond and surfaces.

Oh. Oh, that explains it.

It’s Lan Qiren’s annoyingly perfect nephew, Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, who is too good to attend classes with students his own age. Lan Zhan who, rather than making friends with such students, serves as a sort of disciplinarian, regularly snapping unruly students back into line with nothing more than a cold glance from his admittedly perfect face. Lan Zhan, who Wei Ying had to learn to avoid early in the summer, because he kept catching him trying to sneak out or tiptoe into forbidden places. That Lan Zhan.

Wei Ying steels himself to be utterly annoyed by whatever happens next.

Lan Zhan lingers for a time, head and shoulders above water. Then he approaches a large rock where his things sit in a neat white bundle. In one fluid movement, he lifts himself up with both hands on the rock and swings into a sitting position, his toes in the water.

It all happens like slow motion. Wei Ying’s brain sputters, then lurches, then goes completely on the fritz.

He’s—he’s—he’s actually perfect.

Wei Ying knew he was perfect, but that was an annoyance like everything. The beauty of his face was a mockery of everything Wei Ying stands for. He could find words to speak when faced with that stern face, but his words have dried up now, because Lan Zhan’s body is – Lan Zhan’s muscles are –

He has no idea Wei Ying is watching him. His face is serene, his body relaxed, and the sun beats on him like a spotlight, turning the edges of his skin to gold. Wei Ying is gobsmacked. How dare he. How dare he sit there with that expression, not knowing that he’s turning Wei Ying’s insides into molten lava just by being there … with thighs like that .. and a bare chest like a sculpted statue … and good god his arms, and his shoulders, and he already has an annoyingly perfect face, only now it’s matched up with that --- that body, and Wei Ying has never wanted to close his mouth around a drop of water the way he does now, as water trickles down Lan Zhan’s chest.

Oh, and he’s wearing a fucking Speedo.

It’s common knowledge that a Speedo looks stupid on like 95 percent of guys, and yet Lan Zhan looks as though it was created solely to fit him. And nothing is left to the imagination. Holy fuck, that knowledge is going to burn though him until he’s cinders. He struggles to concentrate on something – anything but that.

It’s going to be a very different experience the next time Lan Zhan disciplines him.

Oh. Oh, now his mind is up and running again, but the direction it’s going is dangerous. Lan Zhan angry with him, Lan Zhan throwing him against a wall, Lan Zhan tossing him to the grass. Standing over him. Kneeling over him. Those powerful thighs and well-muscled arms. A hard hand on his wrists, unyielding no matter how much Wei Ying resists. Lan Zhan forcing Wei Ying to his knees. Lan Zhan between Wei Ying’s legs, edging forward, pinning him down as…

“Fuck,” he swears, suddenly and far too loudly. Lan Zhan looks up. Eyes suddenly sharp, he leaps to his feet and scans the tree line. Wei Ying has no choice. He just hopes Lan Zhan doesn’t glance between his legs when he shows himself.

He steps forward from the trees, waving a halfhearted hand. “Hi, Lan Zhan,” he says with a grin. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Lan Zhan’s brows knit. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Oh, but I am!” Wei Ying keeps moving forward, despite his best intentions. Lan Zhan’s body is like a gravity well, drawing him closer. “They lifted the restriction so we could all come up and swim today. It’s brutal out,” he says, squinting and raising against the sun although he’s actually perfectly comfortable.

“Oh.” Lan Zhan looks at him warily. “So others are coming?”

He says it evenly, but Wei Ying wonders if there isn’t some trepidation there. He’s perturbed enough that Wei Ying’s entered his space; what are twenty-some classmates going to do to him? “They’re changing,” he says. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.” He grins. “Just you and me for the time being.”

He thinks the look in Lan Zhan’s eyes is anger, but he doesn’t know for sure. “How do you know this place?” he asks, sounding unsure and not at all like his usual gentlemanly self.

“Oh, your uncle explained how to get here when he gave us the notice this morning,” Wei Ying lies. “I just didn’t have to go back and change like the others, so I got here faster.” He taps his backpack. “Swimsuit’s in here.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes widen. “You’re going to change … here?”

“Why not? Ain’t nobody here but us boys,” Wei Ying says, and winks. He’s suddenly terrified of showing Lan Zhan his naked skin, but he can’t afford to show it. He strips off his T-shirt.

Lan Zhan turns as though offended by the sight. Well, sure he would be, since no one else can measure up to him, Wei Ying thinks. “Hey Lan Zhan, is this what you do while the rest of us are suffering in class?” he asks breezily, stripping off his shorts and boxers. Lan Zhan’s back remains resolutely turned. “Just swimming out here like a fish all day long? I bet I could beat you in a race.”

“There’s not … room here to race,” Lan Zhan says. He still won’t look.

“We’ll go down to Biling Lake next time,” Wei Ying challenges. “You can look at me now. The swimsuit’s on. I won’t offend your sensibilities.”

“I’m not offend—” Lan Zhan turns, and then something clips the edge of his word. He stares at Wei Ying like he’s got three heads.

“Oh, well, glad to hear, then.” Wei Ying sits down on the rock where Lan Zhan had been. “So. Mind if I take a dip?”

The coolness returns to Lan Zhan’s voice. “Suit yourself.” But he’s still staring at Wei Ying.

For just one moment, Wei Ying remembers all those earlier fantasies. That’s exactly the look he imagined on Lan Zhan’s face in those moments. The look where he can’t quite keep his anger in check. The look that says Wei Ying’s getting to him. Wei Ying has no idea how he is gettingto Lan Zhan in this moment, just sitting on a rock. Unless…

Nah, couldn’t be.

The next moment, Lan Zhan’s diving into the water. His body is an arc of movement, a single curved line, and Wei Ying loses his breath again. Apparently he needed to be reminded that Lan Zhan’s body is a flawless machine. His brain is pinging madly and he wants with all his heart to just drop into the water and swim for Lan Zhan like a shark. That would probably be a bad idea. He knows he probably has an advantage in an underwater tussle, but somehow, he doesn’t really want to win anymore.

Lan Zhan has emerged, in a shallow portion of the lake, his head and half his chest visible above the water line. He has eyes on Wei Ying. “Well?” he asks, something curiously hesitant in his voice.

“Well, what?” Wei Ying feels like he should be holding his breath. He’s careful to keep his voice casual.

Lan Zhan looks down, then to the side, then to him again. It’s a very un-Lan-like action. After a short silence, he ventures in what is almost – not quite -- a tentative voice, “Are you coming in?”

Wei Ying stares down at him. The silence that follows is pregnant with possibility.

“Wei-xiong!”

Nie Huaisang bursts first through the treeline, then, following him, the rest of the students in noisy gaggles. “Wei-xiong, how did you find this place so quickly? We all got turned around looking for it—”

Splashes sound here and there as the students find their way into the lake. Soon, the whole place is echoing with the sound of laughter and chatter. Wei Ying’s gaze finds Lan Zhan, through an increasingly dense thicket of people. Lan Zhan is looking at him with eyes that are almost sad. A moment later, he turns away.

It’s disappointing. Wei Ying had thought – perhaps imagined? – that there was something starting to happen there, something thawing in the relationship between them. He considers giving chase. But Lan Zhan is striding through the trees and disappearing before he can say a thing. So much for that.

Still, Wei Ying has an image he didn’t have before. Lan Zhan, dipped in gold, his body bare and his chin uplifted toward the sun. It’s printed in indelible ink on his mind now, along with a memory of Lan Zhan’s gaze, softer perhaps than Wei Ying has ever seen it. He closes his eyes and savors both the picture and the memory for a moment. Then, grinning, he rejoins his friends.

[blouisparadise]

Although most of us aren’t able to go on vacation at the moment, we hope this rec list will make everyone feel a bit better than that. Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Harry, Louis, or both boys go on vacation at some point during the fic. Happy reading!

1) This Is Where I Sleep | Explicit | 3678 words

Harry and Louis go camping while on break and make some memories.

2) Under the Vanilla Sky | Explicit | 8006 words

Who the hell wears a hat like that on a yacht?  That's one of the things Louis thinks when he sees Harry from across the deck of the most expensive, ridiculous boat he's ever been on.  He also thinks he'd like to get closer.  Just to see what's under those aviators.  Just to verify that, yes, in fact, those white swim trunks might be a little see-through when wet.  Just to see if someone could really be that hot in real life.  On a yacht.  In the Caribbean sea just off the coast of St. Barts.  

Here's what really happened on that yacht.

Or, my opinion, at least.

3) Rather This Than Live Without You | Explicit | 10715 words

Harry decides to give it all up. Louis refuses to be left behind.

4) Ready To Run | Explicit | 11940 words

After being left at the alter by his boyfriend of five years, Louis goes on a vacation to try and clear his head and fill the empty spaces in his heart. On the way, he meets a new group of life-long friends, and maybe a little more than that.

5) I Know You Have A Heavy Heart (I Can Feel It When We Kiss) | Explicit | 14489 words | Sequel

In which Louis is spending New Year’s alone in France but he’s definitely not running away, and Harry is a french florist with an ever present smile who cares a lot. They meet a cold night in the outskirts of Paris.

6) Don’t Put Out The Glow | Not Rated | 15007 words

"He fists out a pair of skinny jeans and a plain black tee. Nothing wrong there. Then he sees an atrocious Hawaiian shirt in Zayn’s hand and he starts digging through the bag urgently, pulling out more and more items that don’t belong to him."

7) Pleasure Over Matter | Explicit | 152014 words

Harry is a bit out of his element, and an unsuspecting stranger provides him temporary relief.

8) All I Want Is To Fall With You | Mature | 16254 words

The weekend ski trip where omega Louis discovers that he can’t change a tire and his skiing skills are debatable but still manages to find the alpha who will change his life.

9) Some Flowers In Your Hair | Explicit | 23015 words

A magical camping AU in which Louis is jealous of Harry's magic, Liam's a little too enthusiastic about surviving in the wilderness, and Niall might have misunderstood the rules.

10) Force of Nature | Mature | 25672 words

Louis is a shy, young musician who doesn't want to go to Harvard.

Harry is a confident,  second year athlete who likes to have a good time.

When their paths cross while their families are vacationing at the same lake resort, what begins as a summer of fun becomes a defining journey that might just change everything.

11) A Trail Of Honey Through It All | Explicit | 27085 words

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

12) Rivers ‘Til I Reach You | Explicit | 29315 words

AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

13) The List | Mature | 32094 words

'In the weeks that follow, Harry opens his old journal more than he has in the past two years each time he remembers Venice or thinks about Louis. He always flips to the same random page in the middle of the book, marked by the picture of himself that Louis sent him a few days after they got home. There’s a message on the back that says, ‘Spontaneous looks good on you! See you soon,’ and it makes Harry’s chest warm each time he reads it. He wedges their list out from between the worn pages, and it feels silly staring down at a folded up piece of paper with a strange sense of nostalgia for experiences they’ve yet to have; for places they’ve never even been.'

14) (Your Heartbeat) Rang True Inside My Bones | Explicit | 32945 words

Harry goes as Louis' date for a weekend wedding. He ends up taking the role a bit too seriously.

15) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat | Explicit | 34572 words

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

16) And Touch Me Like You | Explicit | 35971 words

The one where Harry and Louis agree to be each other's New Year's kiss and it ends up being a lot more than they bargained for.

17) A Red-Dusted Planet | Explicit | 38265 words

A one-night stand in a small town in Australia turns into a weekend that Harry could've never predicted with a boy he may never forget.

18) A Rhythm In Rush | Explicit | 40010 words

Harry is a WWF journalist with big dreams and Louis is a glaciologist that flies helicopters for fun. Greenland is an odd place to spend Christmas, but just maybe, the perfect place to fall headfirst into love.

19) Nobody Does It Like You | Not Rated | 58520 words

Louis isn't looking for a home, but he finds one in Harry.

20) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 59873 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

21) Tug-Of-War | Explicit | 63000

Louis' husband dies suddenly and he is left with nothing. Well, not really nothing. He has Harry. And a St. Bernard puppy named Link, whom his late husband left behind for him. Louis takes care of Link and Harry takes care of Louis. Everything is okay until suddenly, it isn't.

22) This Wicked Game | Explicit | 70010 words

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

23) Don’t Tell the Gods (We Left a Mess) | Explicit | 71556 words

After a misunderstanding with Liam’s mother, Louis agrees to accompany his best friend to a family wedding and pretend to be the world’s best boyfriend. But their simple plan goes awry when he learns that Harry, ex-boyfriend/ex-love of Louis’ life, will also be in attendance. (aka: fake!boyfriends with a twist ft. bromance, romance and cake.)

24) Perfect Storm | Explicit | 80230 words

What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding.

Harry and Louis choose the latter.

25) Nothing Worsens, Nothing Grows | Explicit | 102528 words

Another roadtrip au featuring Harry as the misunderstood hipster, Louis as the bitter psych major, Liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and Niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[siriusly-addicted-to-writing]

It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

Pairing: Draco x reader

Summary: You and Draco spend the day together when neither of you go to Hogsmade, and it ends up differently then you expect.

Warnings: swearing I suppose

Masterlist

——————

“You know, you’re not as bad as people say you are,” you say. Draco just looks at you and smiles.

Draco and you spent the whole day together since both of you didn’t want to go to Hogsmade. At first you were skeptical about it, due to the fact Harry Potter just so happens to be in your year and in your house, and you’ve heard all about Draco. ‘Draco did this’ and ‘Draco did that’. Honestly, if you didn’t know any better, Harry might have a crush on Draco. But, you don’t know any better, so that could very well be true.

Although, you couldn’t help but like Draco. Not head over heels or anything like that, but the occasional butterflies. You didn’t even know what you liked about Draco. Maybe it was that edgy vibe he gave off, or that he is insanely attractive. Well, you suppose you didn’t like Draco, you just had an innocent crush on him. You’ve never actually had a full on conversation with him. Well, okay, maybe the occasional ‘hello’, ‘goodbye’, ‘how’s your day going?’ and ‘good, you?’ but not a long conversation.

So when Draco came up behind you in the library this morning it was quite the suprise.

——————

“Y/N?” You turned around quickly to see Draco standing behind you.

“Oh, hello Draco,” you said, closing your book.

“How are you doing?” he asked, tentatively sitting next in the chair to you.

“I’m fine, thank you. How are you?” You already knew this was going to be a different conversation then the normal. He actually sat down next to you and is talking. I was peculiar considering he could’ve gone to Hogsmade today, instead of sitting in the almost empty library with you (1st, 2nd, and some 5th, and 7th years were here, grabbing a book or two to read or to study).

“I’m good,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“So, why aren’t you in Hogsmade today? The weather is spectacular, if you didn’t notice.” The weather was spectacular. The sun was high in the sky, and it was a great temperature. High 70s, your type of weather.

“I could be asking you the same question,” he said, smirking at you. You could’ve swooned at the look he gave you. Holy hotness.

“I, well, um, didn’t want to go, actually,” you said, twiddling your thumbs. It wasn’t exactly a lie, you didn’t want to go, but that was the half truth.

You and your friends were taking a break from eachother. Nothing happened, well maybe there was a few harsh words thrown around after Lavender made you mad. You shuddered thinking about it. But, you were just taking a harmless break. You’ll be back to normal by tonight. You always are.

“I see,” Draco said.

“You still didn’t answer my question.” You looked at Draco and you saw his smile waver for a split second, before regaining its usual brightness.

“Well, there wasn’t anything I wanted to see there.” He shrugged and you felt those butterflies resurface. You had no idea why, but it was strange.

“Yeah, well, what are your plans for the day then?” you asked, only to keep the conversation going. Why not, it’s not like you had anything better to do.

“Well, maybe I’ll spend the day with you,” he said, leaning towards you. You blushed a little but thankfully Draco didn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah, you do that Draco.” You rolled your eyes and went back to the book you were reading. You were going to play hard to get.

This seemed to work as you pretended to read. Draco raised an eyebrow, damnit you’ve always wanted to be able to do that, and peered over your book at you. You lowered your book so just your eyes were showing. You looked up at him and saw his confused face, before putting the book back in front of your face. Draco at this point, was getting a little irritated at your messing with him. So finally, after a second of deciding, he took the book away from you and closed it.

“What the hell Draco? How am I supposed to know what page I’m on?” you angrily demanded. You crossed your arms and sat there scowling at him.

“Psh, you’ll know,” he said, rolling his eyes at you. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of a victory because both of you knew you could remember the page number.

You have a photographic memory. It’s true, and only you and Draco knew. He found out when you were partnered in potions and you listed all the instructions without looking at the board. Well, you looked at the board once, but that was it. That was one of the only times you had an actual conversation.

“It was still rude,” you said leaning towards him. To your suprise, he leaned towards you too.

“Well let me make it up to you then.” He stood up and extended his hand out to you. You stared at it for a second before reaching for it. Draco puled you out of the chair you were sitting in. He lead you out of the library and that’s when the fun started.

It was roughly 11:00 when Draco found you in the library. Right away you both walked outside and sat by the lake. There was barely anyone outside. You guys sat there and chatted for the longest time. You had no idea that Draco’s favorite class was potions, like yours. It was crazy that you had similar likes and dislikes. The only topic you didn’t discuss was the war that was coming. You both knew you’d be fighting on different sides. You didn’t want to ruin the awesome day you were having so far.

Draco, around noon, decided it would be fun to take a swim in the lake. You tried not watch him as he took off his shirt, but you couldn’t help but look over and see his perfect abs. Your heart fluttered, but you ignored it. Draco tried to coax you to come in, but you denied. It wasn’t until Draco went under water for a longer time then necessary, did you go and wade in up to your knees. Draco suprised you when he snuck up behind you, scooped you up and threw you into the lake. You were wearing a nice summery outfit, t-shirt and shorts, which was better to get wet then your robe.

You were so pissed at first, but the coldness was a good relief from the heat. You and Draco swam around until you both got hungry. Draco and you ran into the castle, hand in hand, leaving a trail of water. You both decided to go shower and change, then meet back in the basement. You showered and dressed as quickly as you could. You sprinted down into the basement and ran right into Draco.

“In a hurry?” he asked, smirking at your out of breath self. You just grinned at him, as he took your hand and lead you to the kitchen.

You’ve never been to the kitchen before, so it was suprise when you found out all you had to do was tickle the pear. The room was filled with bustling house-elves. One came up to you and eagerly asked what you wanted. You politely asked for sandwich or two. Draco asked for one too, more politely then you would’ve thought he would’ve. Draco also whispered something into the elf’s ear, and you hoped it was nice.

After a minute or two wait, the elf came back over with a basket full of food. He also had a blanket. You immediately knew what was about to happen. Since you’re a muggleborn, you’ve been on a picnic before. You did think purebloods went on picnics. That’s when it hit you. You recalled telling Draco how much you wanted to go on a picnic a few weeks ago. Of course, he didn’t know what it was, so you explained it all. It was really sweet of him to remember. You walked side by side all the way back to the lake.

You guys ate and talked more. It was actually very nice talking to Draco. Most of your stereotypes of him sort of went away in your head as you sat there with him. You were genuinely happy. It was around three, you guessed, when Draco pulled out the book you were reading, and insisted you read it to him. You protested a few times before giving in. You read one of you favorite muggle books to him, The Outsiders.

You restarted the book so Draco could understand it all. He asked so many questions about what the places were, that you were talking about in the muggle book. You answered them all patiently. You sat up against the tree by the lake reading, for who knows how long. You only took a break, when Draco came over and sat next to you, instead of laying down across from you. Well, you took short breaks when you would take a drink of water to avoid your voice dying out. Luckily, the elves packed a lot of extra food and water.

When you got to the part when Johnny died, you had to stop for a second. This part always got you, and you could tell Draco was sad too, because he pulled you closer to him. You didn’t even notice it was past dinner until you finally put the book down. You’re a fast reader so it only took you probably 5 hours to read the whole book out loud. The sun was setting and you knew you only had a short amount of time before cerfew. But, Draco took you hand and lead you back into the school.

The Great Hall was bustling with students finishing their dinner. You and Draco snuck past the room and ran up flights of stairs. It dawned on you that you were going up the astronomy tower.

Once you and Draco got up there, you set the blanket and basket down and walked over to the railing to watch the sunset.

——————

“I’m not?” Draco asks. Draco and you were still watching the sunset when you decided to tell him that he wasn’t as bad as everyone says he is.

“No, you’re not. You’re actually a very decent person.” You turn and wink at Draco as he rolls his eyes and throws his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

“Well coming from you, it must be true,” he says, shaking his head and you laugh. You both sit there in silence for a minute, just watching the sunset.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you ask Draco, turning to face him. He smirks at you and you tilt you head. “What?”

“Well, Y/N, it’s not as beautiful as you,” he says, staring at you to see your reaction. You blush a mad pink and look away. “And while I’m saying things with this confidence I somehow got, I might as well tell you that I didn’t want to go to Hogsmade when I found out you weren’t going. It was the perfect opportunity to spend the day with you,” he says shyly. You turn to face him.

“Well, if that’s a confession for liking me, it was pretty shitty. But also kinda cute. And lucky for you, I like you too.” Draco’s smile makes you smile as he bends down to kiss you on the forehead. It wasn’t the kiss you were wanting so you grab his shirt and pull him down until you could reach his lips with yours. You were kind of nervous to kiss him, full on like that, but when you realize he’s kissing you back, all your doubt goes away. When you finally break away, you both smile and grab each others hand and continue to watch the sunset. You would gladly skip cerfew any day to be up here, hand in hand, with Draco Malfoy.

++++++

sorry the ending kind of sucks, but it’s fine. i hope you liked it!

[oceanera12]

“Are you sure you’re in the right Cabin?”

Chatting with my sister (again) and we were talking about Nico going from this sweet innocent child who was obsessed with fun card games to the literal son of Hades rocking the black t-shirt and skull ring look. Like, wow. Way to step into that role with little to no pressure (not necessarily bad, just interesting).

And that got us thinking more than it should have about the Olympians and the attributes their kids get from them. And also the attributes they DON’T get from them.

What if Child of “________”, but everyone thinks they’ve been claimed by the wrong parent because there is no way in Tartarus this kid is related to that Olympian.

[And we did the big three in Greek form just to keep it simple (and Percy needs a half-blood sibling, everyone else already has one, fight me on this) Also feel free to replace the names, we just used these as fillers because just saying “Adjective” child was getting confusing.]

First up: “Brandon” the son of Zeus. (Aka. Anxiety child)

First off: I’m thinking the kid is no more than ten years old (more like nine, in all honesty)

This kid is afraid of heights. No joke. He refuses to even climb a step stool because the idea of being off the ground terrifies him to no end.

He’s shy as heck and talks very softly. When he first shows up to camp everyone is convinced he’s the son of some minor god (maybe the god of sleep) because “What son? We can’t hear you. Speak up!” *mumbles under his breath a little louder*

Hates being the center of attention (the exact opposite of his Dad) and just wants to make it through the day without having an anxiety attack.

Fights with a knife (and when we say fight, we mean “hold the thing up, look for openings, take them, but otherwise hide in the background and let Angry child and Sunshine child take care of it”)

He’s just scared of a lot of things, okay? (I’m thinking Neville from Harry Potter) He tries to fight and do what he’s supposed to in training and just falls flat on his face.

But when it comes to battle tactics? Oh, this boy has got some ideas. It doesn’t come as naturally as it would to Ares and Athena kids, but he’s great to have in war councils around the ping-pong table (yes, the nine year old is good at chess, so sue me)

Also, since he’s always so quiet, when he actually does speak up EVERYONE pays attention.

When he panics/freaks out/has an anxiety attack he just sits down on the ground and rests his head in between his knees and tries to breathe. Most of the time that helps but sometimes it just gets worse and worse and that was how he figured out he could summon lightning bolts from the sky (no one was injured but now he’s terrified of accidently hitting someone so he’ll run off somewhere quiet when he needs to breathe)

The one time camp has seen him angry was when Pearl was hunted by some bullies and came back bruised and bloody. Everyone agrees they never speak of that time and to never have a repeat of that time.

Doesn’t really have an opinion on his half-siblings (both Jason and Thalia scared the heck out of him the first time they meet and the two take that as a sign to give the kid space). He doesn’t mind spending time around them, but he’d rather be with the “Big Three Mess-Ups”

Next: “Pearl” the daughter of Poseidon (Aka. Angry child)

This girl has zero chill, even for a thirteen year old who is going through that angry teenager phase. 

And I mean ZERO. Ten minutes in camp and she’s already challenged three people to a duel and been in two fist fights (which she won one and lost the other)

The Ares cabin was already making room for her (because who else could it be?) and suddenly there’s a blue trident hanging over her head at meal time and Percy ends up choking on his blue food

She doesn’t like the ocean. Or water. Or sand. Or outdoors. She can swim and climb and all that stuff, she’d just rather stay inside. All the time. It’s a problem.

And when she is outside she likes to climb a tree (because it’s away from people). When the nymphs start complaining she storms off (quite literally) and hides at the bottom of the lake for a week. That becomes her solitude spot, much to Brandon’s and Violet’s annoyance.

Will carry a book everywhere. And it’s not because she loves to read (she hates reading because of her dyslexia). She just uses the book to ignore everyone around her and get people to not talk to her. Sometimes the book is upside down and she doesn’t notice (and will get mad when people point it out)

The one thing she definitely got from her Dad is just pure strength. This gal can deck most everyone in camp even if she stands at a mesley five feet. Also, she’s got pretty good control on the whole “water controlling thing” which is nice (especially when it comes to slapping some manners into a bunch of bratty Hermes kids who thought it was a good idea to plant dead flowers outside of Violet’s cabin and blame her for spreading death around)

She hates horses and this includes pegusi (mainly because they talk too much) 

The one thing she claims to not “hate” is her fellow “Big Three Mess-Ups” (although secretly she really loves sappy soap operas, a secret that is never shared with anyone)

Fights with a spear, weirdly enough and isn’t bad at archery. Prefers fighting with weapons then with “water abilities”

She doesn’t like Percy for no particular reason. She just avoids him most of the time and when they do talk it’s mostly short awkward conversations. (“Sooo... How’s camp?” “Fine.” “Good.” “Great.” “Good.”) It’s hard to hate Tyson so she just avoids him as much as possible.

And last: “Violet” the daughter of Hades (Aka. Sunshine child)

She wears bright sunny colors, loves sunshine and rainbows and is basically the happiest fifteen year old you will ever meet.

And it’s not that forced happiness that’s creepy and everyone is like “Uh, this kid needs therapy” she is actually happy with her life and loves camp.

Also wears flowers in her hair. They start out the day cheerful and bright but by the end of the day, they are wilted and dead as can be. Everyone has learned not to bring up the dead flowers (she gets angry because DANG IT, SHE DOESN’T MEAN TO KILL THEM SO QUICKLY)

When everyone met her, they thought she was Demeter’s kid. 

When Hades’s claimed her, everyone thought she was Persephone’s and Hades was just covering his wife’s butt or something.

And then someone thought it was a good idea to pick on Brandon and the everyone remembers the screams from the Ares cabin as an army of skeleton soldiers chased them across camp because “You don’t tick off the Mom friend” (Chiron had to get her to call them off because “It’s been two hours, they are going to drop from exhaustion”)

The Ares cabin nicknamed her “Violent” after that and all are convinced she is haunting their cabin at night by having skeletons outside their window and stare in at them (which she is, but no one can prove it sooo...)

Also she’s claustrophobic so don’t stick her in a small space unless you want skeletons to start popping out of the ground.

She is very friendly and outgoing and gets along with pretty much everyone (As long as you’re not a bully). She’s basically the ultimate Mom Friend.

Doesn’t really fight with weapons and most would think she’s a pacifist. But in reality she just summons the army of skeletons to do the fighting for her. When she does actually have to fight it’s just her swinging around some kind of staff (maybe made of bone?).

Violet LOVES her half-siblings and wants to be friends with them very very badly. Nico gets a little freaked out by her and tries to run in the other direction but Hazel thinks she’s pretty chill. The two of them get along fine enough.

Random things the three do together:

These three are best friends/the new trio/“The Big Three Mess-Ups”/whatever you want to call them and will fight anyone for any of them.

“Anyone want to trade parents?” *All three raise their hands without looking at one another*

Sleep over’s in one another’s cabins because let’s be honest: their siblings are never around (if ever) and it’s lonely. They switch cabins every week to change the scenery. Violet loves it (”Sleepover with friends!”), Brandon is very appreciative of it (”I don’t like being alone.”) and Pearl pretends she hates it and puts up with it, but is secretly very grateful for it.

They also eat with one another at meal times and will do group projects together because everyone is a little terrified to try.

Once, for capture the flag, it was the three of them vs the whole camp (Pearl made a bet with the Hermes cabin that the three of them could beat all of them. The Hermes cabin just took it to a completely different level). Violet guarded the flag with her army of skeletons while Pearl and Brandon sneaked around. They ended up winning, but barely (it was the entire camp, seriously)

That’s all I really got at the moment but I’ve fallen in love with these three and want to see them get into some trouble.

[ariparri]

The Camping Trip

Written by cursedautumn on Instagram. We did another story for art trade and she wrote out another scenario I had in my drafts for a couple of months now. As mentioned in the Flowers Fic, English is not Autumn's first language so she apologizes if there are any mistakes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Veruca stepped out onto the summer sunlit porch of a small house in a Scottish forest, closed her eyes, and stretched. It was summer, the wet, green, cool Scottish summer of 1993. Under a sky as blue as Wedgwood porcelain, the emerald plain was spread out with a delicate lavender pattern, and in the distance, there could be seen the Balmoral castle, where their group went on a tour a few days before. In the air hovered a sleepy morning haze, still pale sunlight slid through the trees, the fields and the wooden house, and Veruca, despite the fact that she was dressed in her pajamas, and early in the morning in Scotland wasn't always warm, so it was a little chilly, with pleasure has substituted her face under the breeze and, looking out over the yard, still turned to the door and slipped into the cramped hallway and from there into the kitchen.

The first thing Veruca saw when she entered was a bare swarthy back, and then tousled chocolate hair and funny pajama pants with rabbits on them. The smell of melted cheese and coffee wafted through the small, uninviting kitchen, and there were three pairs of plates on the table covered with a white tablecloth, presumably for him, her, Carson and Tulip, and Autumn with Talbott. Diego was humming to himself and deftly manipulating cups and pans, and he didn't notice Veruca coming up behind him.

"Good morning," she purred. Diego turned around, his handsome face with dark, hot chocolate eyes lit up with a gentle smile. "Good morning," they hugged and kissed. "The others are still asleep. Would you like cheese toast, scrambled eggs, and coffee? We've got a long way to go home today, and we could use a good meal." "You're right, "Veruca agreed. Today they were going to return home from a two-week camping. "Should I wake the others up?"

"Uh-huh," Diego said. "I don't think they're awake yet..." Veruca left the kitchen and climbed the creaking wooden steps that made up the somewhat rickety staircase. The house they had rented while roaming the Scottish castles was quite old and a little out of keeping with the conditions and weather around them, but there was a strange sense of unity with nature, calm and peaceful — that's what this old building could not take away. Autumn had found the house, and at first Veruca had been surprised by her friend's choice: why would the granddaughter of a French count, the heiress of several pureblood families, and a half-aristocrat prefer a lonely old cabin to a posh cottage or hotel?

Autumn was always full of surprises, though. That's probably why she and Veruca understood each other so well and were so close friends... As she went up to the second floor and down the narrow corridor, Veruca couldn't help but remember how, just before the hike, she had come to Coby and told him that she was going to Scotland with her friends and her boyfriend. Coby, who was already wary of Diego, became concerned, and when Veruca made fun of him and told him that she was "already grown up and ready for things that couples in love usually do," he began to look like a madman in his nervousness and worrying. She had expected to just play on her brother's nerves a little, but now, leaving him there, restless and alone, she felt a gnawing sense of guilt. Well, it was a kind of revenge for the real paranoia of the eighties, a major period of her life that had been taken away because of him and R.

"Hey, you!" called Veruca, coming to the next room; Talbott and Autumn were sleeping in the left room, and Carson and Tulip were sleeping in the right. The door on the left immediately opened, and a girl with disheveled dark, almost black hair, beautiful pale skin, and thin hands appeared on the threshold. Autumn hill narrowed her sleepy, transparent eyes and murmured, “Good morning to you, too. What time is it?"

"Almost eight," Veruca told her friend. "Is Talbott up yet?"

"Yeah," Autumn nodded. She looked happy and rested, and it seemed that the reason lay not only in a good two-week hike, charging mental strength. "He's washing up."

Veruca knocked on the door to the right-hand room. A few seconds later, it also opened, and Carson appeared in the doorway, fully dressed in a shirt and shorts. "Oh, you're awake! Come down for breakfast right now!"

At Breakfast, everyone, barely able to fit at the table, chatted casually, pushed each other with their knees at the table and exchanged memories; Tulip rememberd some fun school story and almost made everyone choke. Veruca looked at her friends and thought about how well they had spent their time here — swimming in the forest lake, frying sausages by the fire, walking around Scottish castles and attending fairs and dances.

Here, in nature, Veruca was able to relax a little, forget that her parents had neglected her, that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, that until recently she had been all alone — in general, about all the bad things that had happened to her over the past two years. Here, in the company of friends, where she was her own and familiar, it seemed to become easier to breathe, and the muscles of her face stopped straining, forever making her serious and sad. With Diego, Carson, Talbott, Autumn, and Tulip, she could be as much herself as she liked and not be shy about it.

"Thank you for breakfast," Veruca said to Diego after everyone had eaten their fill of cheese toast, scrambled eggs, and coffee, washed the dishes, and gone to their rooms to change, and kissed him. Diego immediately responded to the kiss and did not let go of her for a long time. "That's it, that's it," Veruca laughed as he tried to get his hands under her T-shirt. "So, get ready, Romeo! We have to apparate several times to drop everyone off before Coby."

"Oh," Diego drawled in mock displeasure, hugging her. "Alright. But I promise you, you won't get rid of me when we get home, my beautiful green-eyed Juliet." Veruca laughed and threw a pillow at him. Half an hour later, everyone came down to the porch: Carson and Tulip, both wearing identical white shirts with lettering on them: "I'm hers" and "I'm his" in blue shorts and caps, Autumn and Talbott in loose sweaters and light trousers, and Veruca and Diego — she in a dress with a leather belt, he in shorts and a T-shirt with a strange pattern. There wasn't a lot of luggage, so no one was worried about possible problems with apparating. Veruca took one last look at the lush and vibrant Scottish landscape, sighed, and asked, "Home?"

"Home!" Tulip answered loudly, and six people joined hands and disapparated with a pop sound, leaving only an empty house with keys under the rug, the smell of morning in the cramped kitchen, and the sense of human presence in the damp woods near Balmoral castle. Carson and Tulip were the first to drop off. They were saying good-bye to the others for a long time, then held hands and headed for their home. Looking at her happy friends, Veruca thought that the wedding was just around the corner. Then it was Autumn and Talbott's turn to say their goodbyes even longer, because they were planning to leave to Italy indefinitely due to the escalating situation in the country and it was not known how soon they would see each other.

After watching them go, Veruca and Diego finally apparated for the third time, finally to Coby's house. Her brother lived on a lonely Irish island, in a cozy modern cabin, simple and bright. When Veruca entered it, everything inside her immediately became warmer and calmer. She didn't come here very often, but now she and Diego had a little idea for a prank that they were going to put into practice. Veruca didn't expect to frighten her brother too much, but as she walked up the path to the cabin, holding Diego's hand, she chuckled nervously, knowing that Coby would not be indifferent to this "news.”

Diego remained on the narrow stone path that wound up to the house and was surrounded by low green bushes; Veruca went to the low wooden porch with a flowered rug and pulled the chain that hung from the canopy. Somewhere inside the house, a chime sounded like a trill, then there were slow footsteps, and a fewseconds later a dark-haired man appeared in the doorway with a cup in his hands. He was dressed in a shirt and jeans, and his face was pale and sleepy, as if he had just gotten up, though Veruca thought he probably had. Coby McQuaid stared at his sister for a few seconds, then smiled, "Oh, Veruca!"

"Coby!" Veruca dropped her duffel bag and took a step toward her brother. "As you can see, I'm back!"

"I definetely do!" Coby said exaggerated-loudly, as if she'd interrupted his peaceful awakening. "Come in, don't stand on the doorstep." They went into the wood-paneled living room through the hall. Here everything was the same as before: wooden furniture and walls, chequered sofas and the same chequered curtains, a cozy atmosphere and the smell of wood. She sat down on the cushioned sofa opposite Coby, who poured a cup of tea from a small teapot on a low table and handed it to her, "Here you go."

"Thank you," Veruca said, and looked at Coby. He was looking at her. There was a hint of concern in his eyes. "You know, I have so much to tell you!" Over the next thirty minutes, she hurriedly, almost excitedly, told everything she could remember: how Tulip had fallen into the lake, her feet tangled in the grass (she had a special ability to fall out of the blue, or, like that time, getting tangled in places where it was impossible), how Diego had hidden in the tent because a butterfly was flying outside, and yelled when it sat on him, and Veruca fell down the stairs, and Talbott almost burned his hair by the fire, so she told her brother about the whole trip.

Coby listened with genuine interest, but Veruca could see that he was waiting for her to mention something about "adult stuff." Finally, Veruca decided to do it. When she finished telling them how Tulip and Carson had tried to fry sausages and ended up burning them, she giggled, "You know what else happened?”

"What?" Coby asked too quickly. Veruca laid her hand on the back of the sofa, smiled, and said: "Diego made me a woman."

The room remained silent for several seconds. Then Coby dropped the empty cup and it hit the carpet with a thud. Then her brother screamed and threw himself on the floor and rolled around on it, and Veruca heard a muffled cry and mutter; she got up, put the cup down on the table, and craned her neck to see Coby sprawled on the floor, howling inarticulately, beating the carpet with his weak fists. He seemed to be cursing Diego and the whole world for what had fallen on his poor head; Veruca knew it wasn't real grief, just shock, so she didn't rush to reassure him. Coby slammed his fist down on the floorboards. She was both amused by the sight of her brother and somewhat disturbed by the shock that had overtaken him.

Coby muttered, "How so?.. how?.. You're still a little girl!" Veruca decided not to mention that she was nineteen. Coby continued to howl and roll listlessly on the floor. Apparently, he wasn't going to stop, because his torment didn't get any quieter or even a little calmer. The girl slipped past her brother, who was lying on his face, went out into the hall and found herself on the street, hearing a surprised, muffled cry behind her. Veruca ran quickly down the steps, feeling a rush of laughter, and ran down the paved path toward Diego. Coby's screams subsided a little, and then he suddenly yelled sharply, “VERUCA CARLYN MCQUAID, COME BACK HERE NOW!".

"High five!" Veruca laughed, running up to Diego, who was waiting for her where she had left him some time ago. He dutifully gave her a five and looked cautiously towards the hut from which came Coby's cry. "What a reaction!"

"Let's go quickly," Diego laughed, "before your brother decides to cut off our heads."

"Yeah, the main thing is to write him a letter later and explain that this is just a joke," Veruca chuckled and looked around. They joined hands and disapparated with a bang just as a distraught Coby McQuaid threw open the doors of his cabin and ran out; he ran down the winding path, but found neither his sister nor her boyfriend, and cursing, turned and trudged back, feeling as if someone had hit him very hard on the head. And his "little" sister, returning to her home, immediately went to her cabinet, hastily took out parchmentand ink, sat down at the table and began to write a letter, simultaneously remembering the white face of her brother and how he rolled on the floor, learning about her growing up, and laughing heartily.

"Dear Coby,

I hope you're not too nervous...".

[theresnosafeharbor4myships]

TITLE: Heat Wave

A/N: This is my first ever Ichabbie fanfic, and I’m nervous to share it with you! Please, I’d love to know if you enjoy this! It’s inspired by my sudden need to rewatch the beauty that was Ichabbie (which I’m doing) and this horrid heat wave that I can’t get relief from. At least this duo can...

“I’m still unable to comprehend how one’s...excrement holding can burst and affect our apartment.”

“We call it a sewer. And it wasn’t the sewer—thank God—it was the pipe,” Abbie explained patiently, her eyes never opening.

“Regardless, if this generation appreciated nature on a grander scale and chose to live more sparsely, then we wouldn’t be required to live adjacent to anyone where their…pipes,” he nearly spit out the word, “forced us out of our abode and into the cabin in the middle of a heat wave.”

“I’m too tired for this,” Abbie responded good-naturedly. “Never thought I’d see you become Oscar the Grouch.”

“Oscar the…?” He turned his head to look at her lying next to him and saw the small smile flirting at her lips. “It’s hotter than Hades. I yearn for the air conditioning.”

“And this from the man who fought a war in full military regalia in the New England heat and humidity,” she teased.

Ichabod watched her in the bright moonlight filtering in through the slats of the blinds, lying flat on her back, wearing only shorts and a fitted white tank top (to his ever-loving dismay and delight). The air from the fan blowing on them lifted the hairs framing her face, the rest of it tied beneath her neck to help keep her cooler.

He’d done the same with his mess of locks, but she seemed much more comfortable than he felt, despite the fact that he also wore shorts and a t-shirt.

“How do you hold your composure in this blasted heater of a room?”

“If I stay still and keep my eyes closed, I can imagine I’m sunbathing on a beach somewhere with a warm ocean breeze blowing around,” she murmured sleepily.

“A beach…” He suddenly sat up. “I’ve got an idea. Come on, Abbie.” Ichabod bounded out of bed, turning to make sure she followed.

She still lay frozen on the mattress, unfazed by his Eureka! moment.

He reached across the bed and grabbed her hand. “Come along, love. You won’t be disappointed.”

“’Cabod, I’m so tired,” Abbie mumbled, forcing her eyes open. “It’s too hot and too late for any bright ideas.”

She saw him raise his eyebrows in excitement. “Alright, alright,” she agreed, gathering her strength and slowly rising from the bed. “What’s this all about?”

But Ichabod was already in the living room and headed for the front door.

“Ichabod,” she called to him.

“Come on,” he encouraged, marching out the front door.

That in itself was strange. Ichabod outside without proper clothes, boots, and that blasted tailcoat—though he’d done without it the past few miserably hot days—deserved her attention.

Abbie got up and made her way outside to find him heading towards the lake. She trailed after him, wondering what he was about. “Ichabod, what’re you doing?”

He’d reached the end of the dock as she approached the shoreline. He turned to look at her, bathed in bluish-white moonlight from both the glowing globe above them and its reflection on the lake before them, and she couldn’t help appreciating his form. He wasn’t muscular by the day’s standards, but she knew the power in his lean arms, knew his lithe figure belied the strength he exhibited. She loved how tall he stood, how he seemed her opposite in nearly every way—height, inner strengths, skin tone, history, grievances—and yet her match. She never got tired of looking at him, of staring into his bright, clever eyes, seeing his large hands flittering around the Archive looking for the next important text or wielding a weapon to protect them, watching his expressive face.

Which, right now, held a glint of mischievousness.

“This,” he stated, then turned and jumped into the lake.

“Ichabod!”

Abbie ran down the dock to the end and peered into the water, its darkness having swallowed him completely. She waited a few moments, expecting him to surface, but as the seconds ticked by and he didn’t, she started to panic, falling to her knees at the edge of the dock. “Ichabod!”

“Right here, love, no need to wake all Christendom,” he teased, suddenly emerging from beneath the dock right in front of her.

She faux-glared at him. “What in hell are you doing?”

“Escaping the scorch with a swim. Care to accompany me?” He swam backwards, away from her, a coy smile on his face, his shirt highlighting his broad shoulders.

She arched an eyebrow at him, and he mimicked the move, a dare if she’d ever seen one from him.

“You’d rather fantasize about the beach than go for a swim?” he challenged, treading water several feet from her.

She stood up, hand on one hip, debating the merits of a post-midnight swim when she had to be up in a handful of hours and watching her highbrow husband entice her with his come-hither looks from the middle of a lake.

Ichabod knew she’d succumb but couldn’t help admiring the view while she debated herself. Her shorts were what she deemed ‘short-shorts’—an iterative phrase he’d found irritating until he’d seen a pair on Abbie—and though she was short in stature, her muscular legs seem to go on for miles. Her tank showed off her arms and shoulders and didn’t leave much else to the imagination; it sat on her like a second skin. Speaking of skin…hers looked smooth and supple in the moonlight. Kissable. Delectable.

“Rather…you can stay there and let me fantasize,” he offered heatedly.

Abbie stared at him a moment before raising her arms over her head in a slow stretch, eyes never leaving his, lips turned up in a sultry smile.

“Abbie,” he warned, drawing her name out a little bit in the way that she loved so much.

Without preamble, she jumped into the water before him. She let gravity pull her down, then release its grip on her as her body buoyed itself to the surface.

“Wooo, that feels good,” she exclaimed as she shook the water out of her face.

Ichabod’s hand grazed her shoulder blade and slid down the side of her body to rest at her hip. “It certainly does,” he agreed pointedly.

“Ohhhh,” she breathed, moving into his space and draping her arms on his shoulders. “No more Oscar the Grouch here, hm?”

She felt his body slightly stiffen. “Who is this Oscar you speak of, and what are your affections towards him?”

Abbie huffed a laugh, drawing closer to him. “My affections are all right here,” she promised as she simultaneously pulled him closer and pressed into him, watching his expression change from indignation to desire as she moved to kiss him.

Ichabod’s eyes dropped closed, his hands spreading wide across her back, holding her in place against him as his feet searched for purchase on the lake floor’s soft sand. When his feet planted firmly, he ran his hands down her back, along her hips, and down to her thighs, hiking them up and around his waist.

She abruptly pulled away from him. “’Cabod,” she startled, the murmured, shortened version of his name only coming out when she was tired or surprised.

“It’s alright, love. I can stand here. I’ve got you.”

He pressed his forehead against hers. “It’s not the beach, but it’s more temperate than the blasted furnace we’re living in.”

“It’s definitely an improvement,” she agreed, languidly happy.

“Mmm,” he hummed against her lips as he kissed her again, this time his hands at her waist, his thumbs sliding back and forth along the edge of her tank top as he leisurely inched it up.

Abbie pulled away from him slowly, enjoying the contrasting cool of the water and the heat from Ichabod’s hands and mouth on her. “I think it’s about to heat up again,” she predicted, pushing an errant strand of his hair away from his forehead.

“Indeed,” he promised lowly, moving in swiftly this time to kiss her as he gradually ambled his way towards the shore and the cabin beyond.

[gotchagirl]

MLQC: Victor

Victor x M/C

Sweet fluff

kiss

Summary: You decide Victor needs some real downtime and decide to invite him on a day out, It’s a surprise thanks for supporting you. He begrudgingly obliges you.

Word count: 3027

You agree to meet at a coffee shop near downtown. You're there early dolled up in a bohemian style white skirt to your calves and a loose fitting hemp blouse with a v neck and large sleeves, you have donned a brown sunhat and you have matching brown sandals on that lace up to your knees. Underneath it all you are wearing a swimsuit and you have lots of wood bead bracelets on your wrists but no other jewelry. You left your hair loose and flowing as that was the theme for the day. 

You were excited to see Victor, you told him to dress as casual as possible. You have never seen him outside of a suit. It was also very hot out so you guessed he would wear shorts and a t-shirt. You had waited for him outside in anticipation. Watching the hustle and bustle of people go about their day, you feel your excitement bubbling up. 

As you turn around to look the other direction, you step into a hard sculpted chest. Big warm hands had to grab your arms to keep you from falling on your ass. You noticed he barely stifled a laugh and felt your face turn bright red. 

“Victor,” you squeaked meekly, taking a step back looking him up and down. 

He was wearing a pale green polo shirt that made his grey eyes look green, light brown khaki shorts, he also had sandals with thick brown straps and buckles. Victor's hair was dark and tousled by the gentle breeze. You could still see the hint of a smile on his lips and the mirth in his eye. 

“Enjoying the scenery?’”

You smiled up at him, “yes I am very much. I never expected to see you without socks so soon.”

“In what context were you expecting to see me without socks?”

“Nevermind….” You trailed off, “Lets get some Iced coffee and go for a walk.”

Victor followed you into the cafe and you both ordered Iced coffee and walked out towards the park. You snuck a quick glance at Victor who was sipping his coffee and surveying the surroundings casually. You smiled to yourself, he already looked relaxed. You leisurely walked halfway around the park chatting at Victor about your week. When your drinks were done you threw away your cups in a trashcan. 

You had been eyeing up the dock full of paddle boats and you wondered if Victor would be up for it. 

Victor turned to you and at the same time you asked each other, "Do you want to rent a paddle boat?”

You giggled and he smiled simply taking your hand and walked you to the boat rentals. “One boat please!,” He paid, taking the key for the boat. 

“It will be number 5,” said the worker pointing to the dock, " I'll keep your purse, bags and belongings here into the same number locker. He opens the locker and puts your phones and wallets in locking it.

The two of you walked to the dock and Victor helped you into the boat and climbed in himself. Once he was in he unlocked the chain and used his foot to cast off the dock. You started paddling in time with him. It felt like you two were in sync. It was very calm and peaceful. 

“So, this is what you do for fun?” he inquired.

You smiled, “No, this is what you do on a date. I would not do this with just anyone you know.”

He nodded, “I wouldn’t like it if you went on one of these with another man…”

“Victor, was that jealousy i just heard?”

He looked at you with such a serious face,”Have you been on one of these before?”

You were trying to tease him but he was so serious right now your smile faltered, “Yeah, I have.”

Victor frowned.

You raised an eyebrow at him and gently touched his hand, "When I was little my dad would bring me out here.”

He seemed to relax at that, “I see…”

The two of you stayed on the lake and stopped paddling just sitting there enjoying the bobbing of the boat on the small waves. Holding hands you sigh. 

“Is this your first time on a paddle boat, Victor?”

He nods his affirmation,”I quite like the pace, I don’t often get to just stop and take a breath.”

He leans his head back and closes his eyes for just a moment. You find yourself studying his profile, his sharp jaw, his angular face contrasted by his soft lips and thick dark eyelashes. You follow his neck past his adams apple to the sweep in between his collarbones. You swallow thinking you really wanted to lick that spot as you run your hands across those shoulders. 

The breeze blows his cologne towards you and you automatically breathe in his scent and close your eyes. You feel the boat shift and something soft touch your cheek as you open your eyes. Victor's hand came to rest on your cheek and he caressed your lower lip with his thumb. His steely demeanor seemed to soften in the warm sunlight as he looked from your eyes to your lips. He leaned in close, you hold your breath in anticipation of something more.

"Your lipstick is smudged," He states simply as he tucks your hair behind your ear as he leans back. you feel disappointed but brush it off.

The two of you continue paddling and talking when suddenly a frog hops from a stray branch onto your lap. It startles you and you automatically try to stand up which tips the boat off balance and Vicor tries to steady you but you grab onto him and fall backwards into the water with a huge splash taking him with you. 

You resurface and see Victor is okay too. You grab the boat and swim to the other side putting it between you two. Victor grabs onto the boat and sees your huge grin and playfully splashes you with a handful of water. 

"Idiot…"he says but he's softly laughing. 

You both cimb back into the boat agreeing it's time to find dry land. You return to the dock and secure the boat. You were both sopping wet. Victor's looks you up and down. You blush under the scrutiny. 

"Was this your plan all along?"he motioned to your swimsuit visible under the soggy blouse.

You shrug, "Well, I can cross it off my bucket list,"you giggle, "I always wanted to go swimming with a shark."

He shook his head exasperated.

Once you returned the boat key, collecting your belongings, you grabbed Victor by the hand and found a great soft patch of grass. Let's dry out in the sun and watch the clouds. Victor played along and lay on the grass hands behind his head and you plopped yourself beside him.

"That one looks like an ice cream cone, you started and that one looks like a rabbit." 

Victor watched with you even giving a few suggestions himself but slowly he started to drift off and you'd hear the occasional soft hmmm in agreement when you looked over he was almost asleep. He must really be exhausted, you think to yourself letting him nap. After all you suspected he was more run down than he let on and that's why you planned this outing initially.

You watched him sleep for a bit and decided to occupy yourself with a cute phone game you have been playing. You rolled over onto your stomach so your backside could dry. Kicking your feet up in the air you played for a bit and started yawning yourself. 

Glancing over at Victor you smiled, watching him sleep made you warm and fuzzy. He looked so completely different. The tight features you were used to seeing were now completely gone. His furrowed brow now smooth his tight lips slightly parted his tension replaced with relaxed demeanor. It was special, a treasure to be hoarded for your eyes only. You wanted to carve this sight into your melting heart forever. You took a picture and hugged your phone to your chest for just a moment. You watch him for a while longer nodding off yourself. 

When he woke up from his nap you were holding your phone to your chest protecting its precious contents while lying on your side. Victor gently brushed your hair out of your face noting that it was so thick it was still heavy and wet. He would remember that for later. 

Looking around it was still early afternoon and he watched people sitting on the grass, noting couples and families with their children. It was calm and simple. Something he wasn't used to but it felt good. He had known he was overworking himself but ignored his need to rest in favor of faster results. However sitting here right now he felt so completely at ease. How did you know he wondered? 

His eyes trailing back to you. Watching the swell of your breast as you breathe shallowly, noting the soft curve of your hip and the cute sandals that made your ankles look so dainty. Your tiny hands desperately clutching your phone. Your soft lips part as you sigh in your sleep. He wondered if you were bored, surely falling asleep on a date was not acceptable. Frowning he thought he might need to make it up to you later. He wasn't one to disappoint.

He caressed your shoulder, "____you should wake up." The deep cadence of his voice drifted into your dream making your toes curl. 

"Victor…"you moan contentedly.

The tone of your voice unhinges him shooting him in the gut and slightly lower. Taking him off guard for a moment. He had never heard his name so sultry coming out of your sweet mouth. 

He runs his hand up your arm again, "It's time to wake up ___,"

"I don't want to wake up, I want to stay here with you…" you grouse as you drift in and out of your dream.

"What would we do?,"Victor asks, realizing you are not quite awake, and you are talking in your sleep, this could be fun.

"I want to touch it, it looks so fluffy…"

Victor quirks and eyebrow at this, "What are you talking about?" 

"Your hair, silly." 

He's a little surprised at the comment and reaches up to touch his hair. It is soft, he thinks.

"Tell me what would you do if I let you touch my hair?"

You respond with no hesitation, "I would run my fingers through it all the time. You're so hard everywhere else. I love the contrast." 

Vicor blushes at the thought of your hands running through his hair and down his shoulders to his chest. He shakes his head grateful you're not seeing his reaction. 

Feeling a little guilty he again rubs your arm. He knows he should stop but he just can't seem to help himself. 

"What else do you want to do babygirl?" he drops his voice lower quietly prompting you to respond.

"Victor, please I want you to…" you doze off again.

"What do you want me to do?"

You hmmm licking your lips, "Pudding!"

He drops his head in dismay thinking he was going to get something good and here you want him to make pudding? It figures. 

"Idiot!"he says to himself this time. 

Victor gets up and walks over to one of the park vendors ordering two coffees and comes back to sit beside you. This time he shakes you awake. 

You yawn and stretch out. opening an eye you look up to see your boss beside you. You sit up ,"I'm sorry I didn't mean to doze off…"

He simply nods and hands you a coffee. You take it and sip it. Looking around, it's still early. You check your phone. It's about three in the afternoon and your stomach grumbles. 

"Time for some special food," you smile.

Victor looks dubious at the prospect of you choosing the food. You smile and get up.

" We are strolling over to the tea house. I had the owners pick out a special meal for us. I promise it will be amazing."

You took him to a beautiful tea house that housed a very traditional style garden full of several koi ponds with just the right amount of shade. You sat on the tatami mat, across from the table was Victor. The elderly couple who lived there were the ones serving you tea and a late lunch. There was a fair variety of food to choose from all in small portions and all very healthy. Victor was indeed impressed. 

You ate your food and described each dish to Victor. He already knew most of the dishes of course but he liked how animated you were when you talked so he indulged you. The two of you enjoyed a tea ceremony afterwards and you both got to try with some guidance. It was fun.

It was starting to get darker and you wanted to take Victor to a very special place. It was where you first met him, the street he had saved you from the car when you were five. There was a festival happening there and you wanted him to see it with you. You quietly hoped he would remember too. 

You hailed a cab and when the two of you got in you told the driver where to go. it was a long drive and you sat in comfortable silence along the way. It was always like this with Victor, you could just enjoy each other without saying anything. it was so natural like he'd always been by your side. 

When you arrived at your destination You paid and the two of you got out. Victor surveyed the surroundings with a positive nod. There were stalls and vendors along both sides of the road and Small stalls with various games. The highlight of the festival was the dance of the shrine maiden and so you literally dragged victor around to play games and kill time until sunset. 

When they announced the dance you beamed up at Victor and he nodded, taking you by the hand under the pretense of not getting lost. He skillfully weaved the two of you in and out of the crowd until you reached the platform. A huge crowd was gathered and you were too short to see. 

Victor got down on one knee in front of you, "get on," he said as you took each of his hands to balance as you hiked your skirt up to strattle his shoulders. He wrapped his large hands around your calves and stood up with ease and you grabbed his hair for balance. 

"Oh wow, it's so soft," you say as you run your finger through his dark locks.

Victor knew you wanted to touch his hair, he smirked to himself at your comment, "Pay attention dummy," he motioned to the stage as a woman came out dressed in a beautiful kimono. 

She collapsed to the ground dramatically and shot up suddenly with two large bells in each hand. The music started and she began to dance as she rang the bells.

It was a beautiful dance and you were so enamored of it you almost forgot you were on Victor's shoulders. There was a bang and smoke rose up from the stage. Suddenly men dressed as demons began dancing around the girl. You startled and could feel Victor shaking under you with laughter. His cheek brushed the inside of your bare thigh. 

Just now realizing how incredibly intimate this position was you failed to focus on the rest of the show. Instead softly letting your fingers play in Victor's hair as you pretend to watch. Wishing you could do this forever but also feeling like it was almost too intimate. You were at war with your inner self, would you get the chance to do this again? Who knew. Occasionally you'd feel Victor unconsciously rub his face against one thigh or the other and it made your toes curl. You wondered if he noticed.

It was over all too soon. Victor reached his hands up to grab yours and knelt down slowly keeping his balance. You climbed off and Victor turned to face you. His hair was a mess and you laughed. He had an unreadable expression as he looked at you. His eyes were darker than usual. You reached up to him and he automatically leaned down to you. Gently you put his hair back into place while he maintained intense eye contact with you. You stopped, hands sliding to rest upon his shoulders. 

Before you knew what happened he was kissing you. His arms around your waist pulling you in as he expressed his desire without words. Your hands went back to his hair, fingers curling around the softness pulling him closer as you leaned into him and your lips pressed his, a soft caress and he tilted his head and parted his lips letting his tongue caress your upper lip. You opened your mouth and licked the tip of his tongue with yours in silent affirmation.

Suddenly the kiss became deeper, more demanding. His tongue swept your mouth exploring every crevice as you chased it with your own. You lapped at his mouth as he moaned into yours. Sucking on his lower lip as you parted from him. 

Victor's voice came out husky,“That look on your face right now, it’s how I always want you to look at me!”

It was a command, a sweet one full of love. You put your hand on his chest and felt his heart pounding. Looking at his face he seemed cool as a cucumber but his heart told you the truth. 

The End

[bcbdrums]

My 50th Drakgo Fic

FFn link --> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13645532/1/Sunlight-Paint-Flip-Flops-and-Old-T-Shirts

This is in answer to prompt #2 over at @drakgoprompts which was to use the phrase “the great blue moon,” and bonus points if it describes Drakken’s rear.  I think I got carried away...  Slightly mature content under the cut.

But...it’s my 50th Drakgo fic, guys!!!

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

Drakken had been struggling to get the paint can open for nearly five minutes, keeping his grunts of frustration as quiet as possible as he kept glancing over his shoulder at Shego to see if she'd noticed. But she was on the other side of the room, atop a ladder and taping along the frame of the picture window, the canvases having already been spread on the floor.

Their new house was large, and that had been part of Drakken's argument to hire professional painters. But Shego had reminded him that the goal of getting an actual house—one that happened to back up to thousands of acres of National Forest and was situated atop a cliff overlooking a lake—was to disappear. Hiring painters would defeat the purpose.

Drakken pried frantically at the lid as he saw Shego finishing with that last window. He hadn't wanted to ask for her help, as he usually did with nearly every jar and bottle they owned. But it seemed he had run out of time.

"Um... Rachel?"

Shego finished with the blue tape and turned around on the ladder, surprised for just a moment as she peered at Drakken's chagrined and slightly apologetic face. She immediately began looking around his feet for spilled paint.

"What?" she asked.

"Could you...open this paint can for me?" he asked reluctantly.

Her brow rose. "Seriously?" she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she descended the ladder.

She stepped bare-foot across the cool canvas in the large, sunlit room that would become their combination dining room and living room. It was still extremely strange to think of them just becoming...domestic, while they tried to figure their lives out.

All they had determined so far was that they wanted each other—that was first, and most important—and also that they didn't really want to be in villainy anymore. But they also didn't want to be part of society.

Society it seemed, also had no interest in them. Despite the fact that the world probably couldn't have been saved without Drakken, and despite the fact that they had both been pardoned, it didn't stop crowds worldwide from crying for justice against them. And while they were annoyed, they also understood. Some of their plots had had earth-shattering consequences—literally, in the case of the one with the giant magnet.

The world's rejection was their final push, though they had hardly needed it. They impulsively ran away together one night after a mass of protesters had swarmed upon their lair and tried to kill them. They had quickly and shamelessly purchased the new house with their ill-gotten cash and had been living in it for about a week. But as their escape had been so hasty, the only furniture in the residence was the fridge, the stove, and the air mattress they slept on. They had rapidly tired of living on what they considered to be less than bare necessities, and after some discussion had agreed to turn the house into something that could be theirs forever, no matter where life ended up taking them. In the past they had always returned to the lair... Now, they would always return to the house on the cliff.

Hiding seemed to be the best option that suited all of their needs. It kept them safe, and it kept them together.

And honestly, the seclusion was exactly what they needed most. Falling in love had surprised them both, and it had happened just as suddenly and unexpectedly as had Drakken's plant mutation. They needed to get to know each other in a new way. And moping around the lair and literally fighting for survival hadn't been much help.

So now they stood in a three-million dollar home in the middle of nowhere, preparing to put paint on the walls together. Shego had never painted a house. Drakken had watched it being done, once.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't—"

"Just give me the screwdriver!" she said as she knelt down next to where he squatted in front of the array of paint cans.

She was glad he had finally changed clothes per her insistence as she looked at the thin gray-black hairs on his shins and his smaller-than-average feet in his old brown flip-flops. She hadn't even known he owned flip-flops. But his insistence that he wouldn't get his jeans and nerdy button-up dirty had had her literally shoving him back into their unfurnished bedroom to change. Now he wore his tricolor blue, green, and teal swim trunks and an old white t-shirt. And the flip-flops.

"She— Ah, Rachel?"

Shego shook herself out of studying the way the thin t-shirt barely hid his skin and grabbed the screwdriver. Her brows knitted.

"You've been trying to open it with a Phillips!?"

Drakken recoiled from her ire, and Shego looked around until she saw the putty knife they had used the day before to patch some cracks in the ceiling of their over-priced house that had stood vacant for too long. She grabbed it and shoved it under the rim of the paint can and began gently prying off the lid.

"You've at least got the paint trays ready?"

She watched his eyes go wide, and he glanced around quickly. There were no paint trays in sight. Shego followed his gaze and realized there were also no brushes, rollers, or mixing sticks.

"Drakken..." she growled lowly. When his brow knit in slight worry, she pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Sorry... Drew," she corrected, after she had calmed her voice.

That was something else that was new. Since they weren't going to be villains anymore, they were trying out calling each other by their real names. So far it was extremely awkward and even painful at times.

Drakken only associated his name with failure and humiliation, so to be called 'Drew' and associate the name with happiness, love, and caring was very difficult for him.

Shego hadn't been called by her name since before the comet. In fact Drakken was the only person outside of her brothers who knew her name, if her brothers even remembered it... And 'Rachel' had slowly been destroyed by Team Go and their controllers since childhood, thus she had never wanted any association with the name again. 'Shego' was who they had made her. It was what she called herself in her head.

It was still startling each time Drakken said her real name.

When they argued and fought, however, they reverted to their villain names. It was an unspoken agreement; a topic that had never been discussed, that to say the other's name with anger or malice was something that would never happen. They were trying to create a new life together. And that meant putting to bed the ghosts of the past.

"They're still in the shopping bags in the kitchen," Drakken said, scrambling to his feet and nearly tripping over his flip-flops.

Shego shook her head as she continued prying the lid off the can. Why they were attempting something that neither of them truly had a clue how to do was beyond her. Except that...they wanted to. They wanted to reinvent themselves and their lives. Painting their new house and learning how to do it together was a fair enough start.

Drakken rushed back into the room with the plastic shopping bags that contained the rest of the painting supplies and begun dumping them out over the floor.

"Careful!" Shego cautioned as she pulled the lid off of the paint can. The paint inside was white.

Shego's brow furrowed as she looked at the label on the lid, and then at the other cans stacked in front of the canvas-covered fireplace. The cans of dark teal paint were mixed in among the cans of white.

"Drakken..." she growled again. She watched as he looked down and started at the sight of the white paint.

"Oh, uh...s-sorry."

Shego began slamming the lid back on the can more violently than was needed.

"We agreed to paint the back wall teal first. Then we mix the teal with white and figure out exactly how light we want the other three walls."

"I know, I...I was just...so worried about getting the can open I forgot to read the label... Here, let me," he said, getting down on his hands and knees and leaning past her to reach for a can of the teal.

Shego fell back to her rear in surprise as Drakken's own rear end nearly bumped her face in his haste to grab another can of paint.

"Hey...Drew. Move your tail gunner," she said in annoyance.

Drakken peered back at her over his shoulder, his brow raised in confusion.

"Get your big blue moon out of my face."

She watched as Drakken took another moment to process her meaning, and then his face flushed as he quickly crawled back, eyeing her uncertainly as he sat back on his heels next to the pile of paint brushes and rollers. Shego rolled her eyes and grabbed a can of the teal herself, prying it open quickly. Drakken pushed one of the paint trays in front of her and she lifted the can and poured some of the dark and thick liquid into the tray's shallow reservoir.

"I think...we're supposed to start at the top..." she mused as Drakken pulled the plastic off of two paint rollers. "So get the— ...I'll get the ladder. You use the extension handle."

Drakken's face was still a bit pink as he watched her walk away. Her gait to his viewing was perfect, almost like she floated with each step. He had never noticed it before when they were just super-villain and side-kick. But now that they were together he noticed every little thing about her. The way her hair swayed in time with her steps, how perfectly shaped her green legs were—particularly noticeable in the tiny, black athletic shorts she was wearing—and the way her forehead wrinkled when she was deep in thought. It didn't do that when she was angry... Just when she was thinking.

His eyes drifted off of her face as she set up the ladder in front of the hearth, backwards so the steps were facing the fireplace. He was a bit annoyed that she had stolen one of his old Captain Constellation t-shirts to wear while painting. But the annoyance and the rest of his thoughts faded as he realized that she wasn't wearing anything else beneath the dark gray t-shirt with the red and white rocket ship over the blue circle of a starfield.

Shego set her hands on her hips and her forehead remained wrinkled in that way Drakken found cute as she looked between the ladder and the fireplace.

"Okay, hand me the tray," she said, reaching down and gesturing with her open hand.

Drakken set the roller carefully atop the tray before lifting it with two-hands, knowing if he spilled it he would get an earful about wasting their resources. She took the tray and set it on the ladder's shelf, but she did a double-take and paused with her foot on the first step when she looked at him again.

"What?" she asked.

Drakken blushed lightly. She had very nearly caught him staring at her chest...

"...'Tail gunner'?" he asked, pouring paint into another tray for himself.

Shego crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. He even thought that was cute.

"You know..." she said, shrugging lightly.

Drakken shook his head as he began rolling his paint roller into the tray, the soft white fluff of the tool rapidly being concealed by the teal liquid. He actually didn't understand the analogy.

Shego sighed loudly. "Tail as in your rear end, gunner as in...you know... Sounds coming out...like a machine gun."

Drakken blushed bright red and he spluttered for moment as he searched for a response. "I... I do not—!"

"We share a bed, Doc," she said with an affectionate smirk.

Drakken watched as she climbed the ladder, immediately distracted again by the lovely green length of her legs. He wondered how she was able to balance on the ladder bare-footed as she was. But his attraction to her was stayed somewhat by the embarrassing accusation she had just leveled against him.

He couldn't let her get away with it.

"Oh yeah, well...well maybe I don't like the way the bathroom smells after you've been in there 'reading' Villainess for fifteen minutes!"

Shego's jaw dropped as she gasped, affronted. Several seconds of silence passed, and as Drakken gazed at her fairly-glowing eyes he realized he'd made a mistake.

"Why, you—!" she snarled as she shot a small glowing blast in his direction. He quickly leaned out of the way to dodge it and nearly tipped over the open paint can.

"Hah! Missed me!"

"Maybe I don't like how sweaty your feet are at night, Drakken!" Shego said, descending the ladder carefully as she minded the paint tray.

"Well maybe I don't like how much hair is left in the drain after you shower!" he retorted.

"Some of that is yours, mister 'nineteen-eighties is high fashion'! And what about all the circuit boards and wires you leave lying around all over the place? Why are those even here!? I almost cut my foot yesterday!"

"At least you didn't spend hours scrubbing black lipstick out of the carpet in the bedroom. What kind of person leaves make-up out all over the floor!"

"We don't have any furniture!" Shego growled, throwing a larger green blast at him from a mere two feet away.

Drakken saw it coming and dodged again, but for some reason something in his mind told him he needed a greater defense. And for some reason that same something told him it would be a good idea to pick up his now-saturated paint roller and thrust it out in front of him.

Shego gasped and side-stepped away from the surprise defense-turned-attack. But her hair swung up with the inertia of her quick movement and collided squarely with the length of the roller.

Shego and Drakken gasped in unison. Shego's jaw worked silently as she held up her hair and stared at the thick, teal stripe marring the black. When her eyes turned back to Drakken's they were filled with fury.

"Uh oh," Drakken chirped.

Shego's teeth were bared as she spoke. "Do you have any idea...how long it will take to get this out!?" she snarled.

She raised glowing hands in menace and Drakken leaned back, thrusting the paint roller forward instinctively. Three tiny teal splatters hit Shego's face, and she gasped in anger.

"Why, you—!"

She turned back to the ladder and grabbed her own paint roller. Drakken scrambled to his feet, brown flip-flops falling from his feet as he tried to run. But a second later he felt the hard impact of Shego's paint roller against his upper back.

"You'd better cover your great blue moon!" she growled, stalking after him as he staggered away from her.

Somehow, Drakken had had the presence of mind to hold onto his own paint roller and he swung it around blindly as he took two huge steps away, whirling around just in time to see Shego dodge. He gasped as she lunged forward, her roller connecting with his arm at the same time he swung his and hit the side of her head, marring more of her hair.

"Rrargh!" she cried, shooting a glowing blast at his feet and causing him to jump. It was enough distraction for her to hit him just below his chin with her roller. He dropped to his knee as he choked from the hard impact against his throat, his hand grasping at the spot protectively and getting covered in teal paint.

"Drakken?" Shego asked in sudden alarm.

He looked up with narrowed eyes as he clutched his throat, swinging his roller hard and spreading a broad line of paint across the front of her thighs. Shego jumped back with an annoyed gasp as she surveyed herself, but when she looked up Drakken was rising to his feet again with a devious smirk and a hoarse chuckle. Shego's eyes widened.

For the next minute they batted at each other with the paint rollers wildly and carelessly, irritated shouts turning into laughter and squeals. Their arms received most of the blows as they continued trying to defend themselves amid what had turned into playful attacks. And when they were both too winded from laughing they stopped and backed away from each other, standing about five feet apart as they tried to recover their breath. The canvas beneath their feet bore more signs of the battle, teal spots splattered haphazardly around the room with some having landed on the hearth and picture window.

Shego stood with her feet apart as she continued laughing breathlessly, gazing affectionately at Drakken. Drakken was leaning forward with his paint-covered forearms on his knees, but he saw an opportunity and seized it, lunging forward with a smirk and a growl. Shego hadn't been expecting it and her dodge wasn't soon enough. Drakken's roller went straight down her shirt, teal paint completely covering the red and white rocket ship on the blue starfield.

"Hah!" Drakken shouted triumphantly, raising his paint roller high in the air. Two drips of paint fell down and hit his face next to his eye, and he flinched in surprise.

Shego's shock melted into a broad smirk. "'Hah,' yourself. You just got paint all over your shirt."

Drakken blinked his open eye as he rubbed the paint away from the other one, realizing she was right. But as he gazed at the woman he loved in front of him, flushed, breathless, and grinning, he discovered he didn't care in the slightest.

"Take it off then," he said with a smile.

Shego started in surprise. But a moment later both paint rollers hit the floor as the pair crashed into each other, limbs and lips meeting in a frenzy. Drakken brought them down to their knees, and then he carefully lay back on the hard ground and pulled Shego up over the top of him. She tossed her paint covered hair aside as his lips captured hers again and again, his arms wrapping tightly around her back.

"Other way..." Shego breathed after a minute. Drakken immediately obliged, rolling them over so he covered Shego's form as they lay on the heavy canvas that protected their hardwood floors. The tacky feeling of drying paint was between them as hands and limbs sought for even greater closeness.

"Why?" he asked, kissing her neck and up behind her ear.

"Mm, so I can feel your...jiggly blue jello?"

Drakken's lips left her neck and he looked up at her with a grimace.

"Too much?" she asked.

"Too much," he nodded.

"Hot buns it is," Shego said with a small smirk. Drakken felt all ten of her fingers dig firmly into his rear end, and he brought his lips happily down to hers.

"You're the one with the hot buns," he murmured before surrendering to her touch.

He would never get over the fact that she, heaven's beauty sent to earth, had chosen him. Her mere presence had been enough for him before, but now...his life was joy beyond description. He let his body sink against hers and his hands began to wander, one of them settling to knead her thigh as the other snaked beneath her shirt and his palm slid up her flat stomach towards her chest.

"Drakken..." she breathed, her fingernails sliding slowly up his back, catching in the drying paint at his shoulder blades.

"Shego...mm, Rachel," he amended as his hands and lips took possession of her, his touch fierce and intimate as he suckled at her neck.

"You've...never called me Rachel when we make love..." Shego said breathlessly.

"Rachel..." he said, bringing his lips back to hers. Her answering caress was soft and yearning. "Rachel..."

Shego's palms pressed firmly into his back, one arm sliding around to grip his waist and her other hand moving to grip his shoulder.

"Mmmh...ohh I love you, Drew Lipsky... But there's nowhere in this house to make love."

Drakken slowly pulled his lips from her cheek with his brow furrowed and his eyes slightly anxious.

"Air mattress?" he said hopefully.

"If you want us to be uncomfortable the whole time."

Drakken grimaced. He closed his eyes and scratched at the drying paint on his cheek as he tried to push down the fire that he'd allowed to build within him. When he looked at her again, she was smiling affectionately. The fingers of one of her hands began twirling the hair of his ponytail.

"...Furniture store?" he asked.

"You start the shower. I'll put the paint away."

Drakken grinned.

[moondustis]

heaven all around me (m)

pairing: mark lee + reader genre: smut word count: 5,1k summary: when you’re eight mark lee pushes you inside a lake. at nineteen you fall a little in love with him. (church camp!au) warnings: loss of virginity a/n: this is somewhat the sequel to innocence, you don’t have to read it to understand this one but it would be nice since there are a few mentions of what happened in the other story.

living in a small town meant a lot of things. it meant that there was no such a thing as keeping a secret because everyone knew everything about anyone that dared to breath. it meant everyone was raised inside a church and couldn’t miss the sunday mass for anything in this world. it also meant that every year, since you were seven, when the july heat finally came, you’d have to pack your things and spend four days away at the middle of nowhere at church camp. because apparently jesus wanted you to or whatever, it was a nightmare. summer was an awful season to be out and about like this and having to share a room with 20 other girls just made it all worst.

you hated the silly group dynamics and that every morning you would have to wake up early to help get the breakfast ready. but what you hated the most was that this year the only person that you cared about in this hell of a city wouldn’t be there. jung jaehyun had not only left you one year ago with the pieces of your broken heart in his hand, but he also left you alone to endure church camp all by yourself.

all the dramatics aside, it really sucked that you wouldn’t have his company during the four days there were about to follow, but thankfully, at 19, you would not only be attending the camp for your last time but you would only be there to monitor the children while staying in a cabin by yourself.

it couldn’t be that bad.

✱

(day one)

once upon a time, when you were just an innocent girl, at the sweet age of eight, you met mark lee. you probably had seen him before at church or at camp, but no interaction had been as memorable as this one.

mark, slightly taller than you even then, pushes your small body inside the lake. it was an accident of course but your eight year old mind couldn’t process that. so you scream and cry, trying your best to remember how exactly to swim even if the lake is not that deep, until jaehyun jumps in and saves you. always the good guy.

after you’re not almost drowning you proceed to call mark every bad word you know, which are not many since you have been raised inside a church. but still, he looks hurt when you call him ugly and mean.

you’re not upset about that anymore, of course. it’s been years and even if you haven’t really had a conversation with mark since then, you don’t hold any grudges. but still, as you walk inside what was supposed to be your private cabin and see him standing there, that’s the first thing that pops in your mind.

“oh, hello.” it’s what he says when he notices you. his baggage is up on one of the two single beds in the room, clothes folded neatly inside of it. on the bedside a bottle of water, earphones and a burt’s bees lip balm. he looks as surprised as you are.

“uhm, hi.” you say, pushing your own luggage inside and plopping down on the other bed. the cabin is small but cozy enough, there’s a fan in the ceiling that you’ll probably be thankful for very soon. “i thought i would be at the cabin by myself.”

“yeah, they said there weren’t enough cabins this year for that.” he scratches the back of his head like he feels awkward. “i actually thought i would be sharing it with another dude”

you raise one eyebrow at him. “do you have a problem sharing it with a girl?”

he lets out a nervous laugh. “what? no, of course not. it’s just that well, you know, it’s church camp.” he says and you can’t help but laugh for real.

there’s a pause where he eyes you for an uncomfortable moment and in a blink he’s looking away. you can already feel a drop of sweat going down your neck from the heat. you hate summer. “i’m mark, by the way.”

you scoff at that. “come on, you don’t have to introduce yourself. i know who you are, you dumped me in a lake remember?”

the look of terror in his face is comical and you can’t help but let out a laugh. everything about mark so far has screamed shy boy, even if you know he can be quite the opposite around his friends. “oh my god? you remember that?” he asks, voice sounding funny.

“of course, pretty hard to forget the first time someone pushed me in a lake.” you indulge him, moving to open your backpack and place your own things at the bedside table. “only time actually.”

“look i’m so sorry, i swear it was accident.” it’s cute how he starts babbling like you would actually still be upset about the whole thing. you turn to throw a smile his away.

“relax, mark. i know. i didn’t mean it when i called you mean.” he looks almost relieved.

“what about me being ugly?” it’s weird how your heart warms up a bit at the fact he remembers exactly what you said back then. you stare a bit at the bedside table before replying. your orange water bottle and carmex lip balm standing next to his own things.

“maybe i didn’t mean that too.” you tease, looking at him again with a smirk on your face that he returns with a laugh.

he has finished setting his things up, now sitting on his bed like you were moments ago. you finally take in how he looks, jeans and a t-shirt that has the drake praying hands on the right. his face still resembles his eight year old self but he definitely has grown into a handsome man, round eyes and all.

“still, it was pretty low of you to say that back then.” his words get you out of your mini daze.

you finish up your things too, not bothering to do much because you know everything will be a mess in a couple of hours. “i’ll admit i was pretty savage at eight.” you reply back and enjoy the sound of the laugh he lets out. you’re glad it’s not weird with him, it would be awful to share a room for four days with someone you didn’t really get along with.

it’s silence for a couple minutes after that, only the sound of people moving around outside. you notice he avoids your eyes a bit but it’s not at all uncomfortable.

you break the silence by asking if he knew what you two would have to do for the rest of the day and you don’t even mind when he proceeds to tell there will be a fire pit and marshmallows at night.

✱

(day two)

one thing you can say for sure is that summer is the worst of all seasons. you think about that as you wake up with a layer of sweat covering your body. your leg starts itching, probably because of a bug bite and you groan trying to scratch it with your left foot. you have no success.

last night fire pit had been fun, the kids behaved and you probably ate more s’mores than you should, your tummy hurting a little bit after. the bug bites you got from it though, not so funny.

you remember mark playing that church song on his acoustic guitar and a silly smile finds its way to your lips. you never really noticed mark much before, but yesterday as you spent more time with him you couldn’t help but get acquainted with some of his habits.

the way his nose scrunches sometimes, how he does his best to guide and help when a kid comes asking for help, how he hums pop songs when he’s bored. you pay attention when he jokes around his friends and can’t help but laugh at how silly he is. he insisted that you sat with all of them during meals since jaehyun was well, your only friend and now you didn’t have anyone to sit with.

at night you notice how he applies the burt’s bees chapstick like his life depends on it, and after you question it he explains that his lips get chapped during summer.

you find it cute how he prays before sleeping and when he mutters good night you say it back while your stomach goes a little wild with butterflies. and too many s’mores.

you get up from the bed quietly, doing your best not to wake him up and try not to curse out loud when you can’t pick short shorts and a tank top for your daily outfit because it just wouldn’t be appropriate for the ambient.

you meet up with mark and his friends for breakfast an hour late, wearing adequate length shorts and a snoopy blue t-shirt that is a little too big for you. your monitor bottom stuck on it.

“do you already know what college you’re going to, ______?” renjun asks, cereal still in his mouth and you find it a little gross. you’re sitting on a table with him and three of mark friends that you’re familiar with, but not friends with. until now that is.

“oh, i think i’ll be going to snu.” you say, rolling around the spoon on your own bowl of cereal.

“mark is going there too!” jeno, another one of mark friends, says excitedly just as mark arrives at the table with a tray of food in his hands.

“i’m going where?” he asks, sitting right next to you and you can’t help but feel like a silly teenager when your heart flutters at how your knees touch.

“to snu! _____ is going there too.” jeno replies and mark’s eyes widen as he looks at you.

“well, i’m not really su-“ you start saying but mark cuts you off by saying a little too cheerful.

“that’s so cool!” he exclaims, grinning around the food he is putting in his mouth.

you nod, smiling back at him.

the rest of the day goes by smoothly, you lead a group of sweet girls on the track and they don’t give you much trouble beside one that falls down and starts crying. you manage to calm her down pretty fast though, and soon she’s moving around like nothing happened.

during the afternoon you and mark watch as the kids have fun at the lake. you and him stay by the border, legs swirling around the water as you talk about things that don’t really matter but still make you feel nice. he tells you about the songs he likes and promises to make you a playlist when he has access to spotify again. you both exclaim in join as you find out about your mutual enjoyment of bittersweet foods and you tell him he definitely needs to try the dark chocolate ice cream at the place just across church. he tells you you’ll have to take him there someday and you agree.

you spend more time talking to mark than watching the kids and when he asks if you want to just say fuck it and swim too you say yes. the water is slightly cold and your t-shirt clings to your skin in an unpleasant way but you have fun as mark chases you to try and splash water on your face.

when the night comes you realize you have talked to mark so much that you feel like you have been friends for ages. it feels so comfortable and familiar that when you both lay down to sleep you’re still chatting, only stopping when he realizes it’s midnight and you’ll both wake up early tomorrow.

you dream of the sun and of his smile.

✱

(day three)

if someone asked mark what could go wrong at church camp a few years ago he would say that probably not much. maybe there could be a problem with the children or the lake but besides that everything stayed peaceful like it should be.

but right now, as he wakes up to your sleeping body on the bed next to him, he thinks that there are a number of things that could go wrong. you sleeping is not the problem here, of course not, it has been three days now since you’ve been sharing a room and he’s more than used to your little snores. the problem is the way your blanket had moved a lot during the night because you couldn’t keep still. the problem is how the single t-shirt you wear to sleep has ridden up quite a bit and the first thing his eyes are met with when he gets up is your ass, clad in baby pink panties.

it’s a lot, it really is. he’s sure he’s about to get a whiplash or something like that because for one he has never seen a girl wearing less than a short skirt outside the porn he sometimes watches. two, he shouldn’t be staring at you like this, wishing he could touch and wondering how soft it would feel. three, he definitely shouldn’t rush to the bathroom to jerk off in the shower while thoughts of you underneath him fill his mind. on church camp of all places.

still, he strokes his dick as images of you doing filthy things fill his mind in an intoxicating way. he wonders what jaehyun made you do to him, wonders if you gave him head.

wonders if he gave you head and as the thoughts of his head between your legs hit him he comes with a quiet moan.

he feels guilty as he watches his come mix with the water and fall down the drain. he thinks about how he is going to confess to the priest about doing this, thinks that there’s no way he can do it.

he goes back to the cabin to find you already awake, shorts on this time as you down what he thinks is your birth control pills. your hands bring your orange water bottle to your lips and he can feel his cheeks heat.

“why did you wake up so early, dude?” you ask, after swallowing down the water. if you notice the way he’s acting you don’t mention.

he sits down on his bed, grabbing his phone so he can distract himself with something, anything. a puppy shows up in his instagram feed, he thinks you’d like it. damn. “don’t know. it was too hot to sleep

maybe.” he says, looking up from his phone.

you have your back to him, rummaging through your luggage for clothes to wear for the day. he stares at your ass, the shorts you’re wearing not doing much for you, while you say something he doesn’t quite catch.

you try your best not to laugh when you turn around and he fails very miserably at trying to look away quickly. “i’m off for a shower. do you want to meet up at the cafeteria for breakfast after?” you ask.

“sure.” is his reply as he watches you nod and then leave the room. when the door closes behind you he lets out a groan against his pillow.

✱

(day four)

people ask you about jaehyun all the time. they ask if you have heard of him (yes, you have), if he’s enjoying college (yes, he is), if you miss him (yes, you do). they ask about him so much that it’s not a surprise when marks does it too.

“are you still friends with jaehyun?” he asks knees nudging yours. you’re both sitting on his bed, backs pressed against his wall and fan making your hair wave a little.

“yes.” you say without hesitation “i don’t think we will ever stop being friends, i’ve known him for my entire life.”

mark hums and you know he understands. he mentioned a boy named donghyuck and how they have been for friends for so long that they can always tell what the other is thinking sometimes. “do you talk often?” he asks.

“sometimes.” it’s true, you used to text a lot more but after the last time you thought he was avoiding it. he had texted you at two am, probably drunk for a party and talking about how much he missed you. you had given in, saying the things he wanted to hear and even after he apologized the morning after a lump still formed on your throat when you thought about it. you missed him, there was no denying that.

mark seems to notice the sudden change in your mood because he doesn’t press on the subject anymore.

“what about you and yeri?” you decide to ask to break the silence. yeri was the girl mark dated for about 3 months, she was cute and petite and everyone including found that they made a cute pair together.

you find the awkward laugh he lets out cute. “uhm, we don’t talk anymore.” he says, picking at his nails. “we were never really friends to begin with.”

“oh.” is you smart reply and then you’re saying something that is probably slightly dumb and offensive. “i was pretty shocked when i find out you two were dating, i can’t really imagine cute little yeri having sex.”

you laugh as he blushes and starts shaking his head. “no, oh my god.” he stutters, avoiding your eyes. “we never did anything more than kiss, she...i...well, we both wanted to wait.”

you realize then that it was a silly thing to say, not every relationship had to revolve around sex. you apologize and he just shakes his head saying it’s okay. “uhm... what about you?” he asks, risking a look your way. “and jaehyun.”

you shift a little on the bed. “we did.” you say lowly. “it’s kind of stupid really. see, i thought we were getting married so there was no point in waiting.”

his mouth forms a little o and he nods, his eyes are a little glazed you notice and there’s a want in the back of your head that wants to kiss him.

“i don’t really care about that anymore.” he mutters, his legs move and you feel it touch yours. “waiting i mean. i still respect what it means, of course, but i’m not like living by it anymore.”

you nod, eyes staring at him until he looks back at you. it feels like a lot of time passes and it’s just silence and the sound of the fan. you are suddenly hyper aware of the fact he has pretty lashes and that his cheeks are slightly pink. you notice the few acne scars and the fairest trace of an stubble on his chin. he looks handsome and his eyes are staring at your lips.

you move in first, lips touching his with care and at first he stays still. a second passes and he’s kissing you back, hand moving to your neck as he moves closer to you. he’s a good kisser for someone who’s probably not very experienced, you ponder that you probably aren’t either since the only person you’ve ever kissed was jaehyun.

he tastes like the burt's bees chapstick when you lick his lips to deepen the kiss. he whines at the way your tongue moves against his, quick to follow and your hands go to his shoulders. you kiss for what feels like hours until you start to get uncomfortable by the position and move to place yourself on his lap, lips not leaving his.

in a very quick second you sit down on his lap, maybe a bit too roughly and you feel his hard on press against you. it shouldn’t be a surprise, you’re a little affected yourself even more when moans against your mouth because of the small friction.

you stare at him, his lips swollen and pupils blown out. there’s a blush definitely painting his cheeks now. “sorry.” he whispers, avoiding your eyes.

“it’s okay.” you say voice soft and you take a moment to think about it, think if you should say what you want to. “mark, look at me please.”

you run a finger through his hair and his eyes finally meet yours. his hands stay at your hips while you move to press a peck on his lips and then another. “please, don’t think you are obligated to accept this.” you start, biting the lips in the process. “but would you like to fuck me?”

his eyes widen before his mouth is forming an o. “yes, please.” is what you say and you feel you your inside tingle at it.

“do... do you want me to?” he asks and you’re nodding enthusiastically in a second.

“i really want you to.” and then you’re kissing him again. it’s still slow and gentle but messy in a way the you like. your hands find their way underneath his t-shirt and you bask in the way he’s so sensitive about everything you do. just the brush of your finger against his nipple has him whining against your tongue.

you grab the hem of his t-shirt, signaling for him to help you remove it and he does. when he finally throws it across the room you start pressing kisses all over him, on his neck, his chest. his hard on presses against the inside of your thigh and you feel yourself clench at the thought of having him inside of you.

you remove your top as well, leaving your bralette on for the time being. when you look at mark he’s staring right at you, the look in his eyes so sinful that you are sure you’re going to hell. it’s sin how good you’re feeling and it’s a sin that you’re about to take his virginity here of all places on earth.

“don’t you want to touch me, mark?” you ask, and he blinks at you.

✱

mark feels on heaven. he feels warm all over, so hard in his pants that he’s afraid that tiniest action from you will make him come. he watches as you remove your top, eyes almost black from lust.

he can feel your eyes on his face but he can’t look at way from the way your lacy bra looks against your breasts. they’re not doing a very good job at covering because he can see your erect nipples peeking through it. he wonders what it feels like.

there’s a necklace on the valley between your breasts, a cross to be more specific, and it raises a little with every breath you take. it looks sinful.

he blinks when you ask if he wants to touch. he does, so desperately that in a second his hand is moving against your boob, feeling how soft it is against his palm. you moan when he teases your nipple and he swears no other sound is ever going to top this.

you look beautiful, breathtaking, even more so when you reach for your back to remove the bra completely. you’re left with your chest bare against him, moaning again when he can’t help but buckle his hips up against you. your hands go to his shoulders for leverage, your lips meeting his again and it feels like bliss.

he lets his hands wander on your chest and it seems to please you if the way you start rolling your hips slowly is any indication. it’s so good that he can’t focus on anything besides it, can’t even keep kissing you, mouth falling open just as his eyes. “fuck.” he mutters as an electrifying wave of arousal runs through his body and he grips your hips tighter, urging your movements on.

“feeling good?” your voice is dripping honey, whispered right at his ear and he feels like he could come right now. just let it go but he doesn’t want it to end, wants to feel you around him.

“yeah.” his voice is raspy and when you smile at him he swears he falls a little in love “really want to fuck you.”

you move up from the bed, his eyes watch as you take off your shorts and panties in one swift motion. his mind feels dizzy and he swears he’s about to have a whiplash at the sight of you naked in front of him. for him. “you have to prepare me a little before we can do it because it has been a while.” you say as you climb up his lap again, he notices there’s a blush on your cheeks probably shy from being naked around him. “can you do that?”

he nods, moving to kiss you again. “how?” he has an idea, has seen how they do it on porn but he doesn’t want to do anything you don’t like so he waits for your guidance.

you take his hand in yours, the size difference making his heart do something weird, and guide it to your bare pussy. you press two of his fingers on top of what he assumes is your clitoris, and with yours on top you start drawing little circles on it. your eyes flutter close. “just like this.” you sound a little breathless. “then you can put your finger inside me.”

he nods again, moving his fingers like you guided him when you move your hands away to grip at his shoulders again. after a while he moves his finger down, feeling around until he finds your entrance. you’re really wet is the first thing his mind registers, so wet that when he presses his finger inside of you it slides in easily. it’s warm and spongy and he wonders how the hell he’s going to fit inside of you when he barely manage to accommodate his second finger when he presses it in.

you put on a show of whining and moaning, head pressed against his neck as you try to ride his fingers. it’s a sight to see, a sight he’ll probably never forget. he can picture himself in 5 years still jerking off to this, the way your breasts felt against his chest and how you moved up and down his fingers, making them wet.

he takes a deep breath when you say you’re ready. takes another one as you help him get rid of his shorts and boxers. another as you eye the way his dick stands against his stomach, eyes hungry. he takes the last deep breath when you move on top of him again, calming his worries about a condom by saying it’s okay, you’re clean and on the pill and all he can do it let his eyes fall close as you sink down on him slowly.

he tries to keep his eyes open, wants to see this moment so he can remember it too but it’s too much. to warm and too tight and he has to grip your hips tight to prevent himself from buckling his hips up and sliding all the way inside of you in one go.

you sigh when you finally bottom up and he opens his eyes, immediately staring at his cock buried inside your cunt and when you clench around him, probably just to tease, he has to count to ten so he doesn’t come right there. “oh my fucking god.” he breathes.

“you feel so good, mark.” you don’t sound like one of the porn stars he watches. it’s much better and he wants to stay like this forever, feeling you warm and flush against him. wants to taste your lips on his forever.

“you too.” he replies, hissing when you suddenly start moving. “i feel like i’m gonna come at any moment.”

you laugh a little at that, moving a little faster. “i’m pretty close too.” he can see the way your cross necklace jumps at little with your breasts and the way you’re bouncing up and it’s a little too much for him. he lets self control aside as he starts moving with you, hips bucking up upwards in quick motions and he thinks he’s doing the right thing by the way you moan his name.

he comes suddenly, not because of anything in particular, just a stroke that felt too good and he’s filling you up, trying to press as deep as he can. his visions going black for a little and he can only make the outlines of you rubbing your clit in fast motions before you’re coming too, clenching around him and making him shiver from oversensitivity.

your body falls putty against him and neither of you make any signs to move.

✱

you feel exhausted as you let yourself fall into mark’s arms. his breath is a little ragged like yours and he keeps his eyes shut close, and head on the wall as he runs his hands mindlessly through your back.

“we should move and get cleaned.” you say as quietly as possible. as if anything louder than that would disturb the moment. it’s hot and clammy in mark’s lap but warm and nice at the same time, the room smells so much like sex and like him that it makes everything more real.

you move from his lap with a sigh and plop down on his bed with your head following on his pillow. he gets up to look for something, clothes maybe and you close your eyes and hold back the want to cry. you have no idea why you are getting so emotional, maybe because this is the first time you had sex after the breakup, maybe because this is the first time you kissed someone after jaehyun.

as you feel the mixture of your cum and mark’s running down your thighs you realize it’s because it felt right to do it with mark and now you have to let go of the thought you were holding so tightly to, the thought that jaehyun was the only one that would ever make you feel like this. that you were meant to be.

mark comes back, a baby wipe in his hand and he offers it to you. you blink away the tears that were trying to form and start cleaning yourself. “are you okay?” he asks, throwing on boxers and a t-shirt.

“yeah.” you reply, throwing the baby wipe away and putting on the t-shirt he offers you. it smells like him and it feels right against your skin. “i think i got the sheets dirty.”

he shrugs, saying it’s okay since you’re leaving tomorrow morning anyway. when he lays down on the bed next to you it dips and you let him throw his hands around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest.

when you close your eyes you remember when you thought for a brief moment in the past that jaehyun was your soulmate. now your mind laughs at the thought because how would jaehyun be your soulmate if mark is making you feel the same way he did.

you let yourself fall asleep. tomorrow is a new a day.