#They will put a little picture of him on a seat by the campfire to include him anyway

[pointycorgiears]

At the end of One Piece we're going to cut to the jungles of Dawn Island where Luffy is going to be having another fire-side meal of roasted animals with his family. Only this time it's with Sabo, Dragon, (not sure if Garp is gonna make it to the end or not), and Crocodile. Who's the only one eating neatly with silverware and looking over at the others like they're a bunch of savages.

The New King of Pirates holding court with his family would be a good way to end it! Circle everything back to the beginning. Where Luffy returns home and he's come back with his long lost family, who he didn't even know was out there. It's sweet, but it would also be an interesting visual metaphor, because you would have a Pirate King, a Noble-born, a Revolutionary, a Warlord, and if Garp survives, a Navy Admiral. All together, all enjoying each other's company, and having a meal together as a family. They are unified, they are one as a family. It says it is possible for the people of the world to be one held together by love.

Crocodile and Garp bicker about the proper way to eat a dinosaursized drumstick (Croc's gonna have to teach some manners to these people). Luffy and Sabo cause headaches for their parents (Sabo gets officially adopted). And Dragon and Crocodile still lean on each other, even after all the chaos.

They're a family.

[urfavlarry]

HI loved the tyler/aiden headcannons btw!

Wanted to ask if you could write something about the reader being apart of the group (after they finally escaped the realm and are free..and traumatized, but happy)

AND LIKE A LITTLE ROMANCE HAPPENING BETWEEN AIDEN AND THE READER!! Like after everything had calmed down, (3 weeks after they escaped) the group goes to a skating rink to have fun. Like normal teens 😞

Would love a oneshot of it!! :D

Aiden Clark x gn!reader

warnings: swearing, bad grammar

genre: fluff! :3

A/N: AHH I love this!! I skate myself so this is just 🛐

hope you like it <33

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You and the group have been planning a trip for quite a while. You were trying to celebrate the fact you finally escaped the damn realm and that lab they kept you guys in. Everyone was a bit shaken up, most of you couldn’t really sleep and you had sleepovers most of the time to try and sleep better. It usually worked, well at least for most of the group. You would wake up in the middle of the night, cold wind hitting your soaked figure. You often had nightmares and you couldn’t really go to therapy because you would be considered ‘crazy’, so you just had to pull through without any help. You know the group would be happy to help, but you don’t want to bother them when they had it worse. Back to the present time! You were currently in the graveyard, sitting in a circle near the campfire, you yourself sitting on your kind of beat up skateboard. Everyone suggested their ideas, Logan suggesting a museum, Ashlyn a restaurant, The twins suggested a waterpark and then Aiden and Ben said they didn’t really care where they would go.

An idea popped in your head and you smiled; “How about a skating rink? That could be fun? I know a pretty good one and theres also like a trampoline part connected to it so that’s pretty cool.” Everyone talks about the idea, Aiden agreeing instantly along with the twins. “Well is there a buffet there? Maybe we could later eat there and just celebrate?” Ashlyn suggests and everyone agrees looking at you for your response. You nod and everyone cheers, excited for the trip.

The day of the trip arrives, you all agreed to meet up at the train station at 8am and you were there early, already waiting there at 7. You watched the sunrise and you smile taking a picture and put your phone away and try out some tricks. You first tried an ollie, the key trick you need to know to learn most of the other ones. You record some of the tries and relax for a bit, watching the clips when suddenly your eyes get covered by a pair of soft hands. “Aiden..” You say and smile at the blonde boy, who had his usual relaxed demeanor. “Hey, you’re here early aren’t you?” He says and sits down next to you, resting his feet on his skateboard, rocking his legs from side to side. “Yeah I wanted to be here just in case anyone needed help with anything.” You say and yawn slightly, not really shaking off the sleepiness just yet. He nods and starts to yap like he usually does and you just listen, letting him yap your ear off. You didn’t mind, you weren’t much of a talker, so you usually just listened.

The others finally arrived just in time for when the train arrived. Everyone boarded and you found your seats, all of you sitting together. Ashlyn decided to catch up on sleep, along with Ben. The twins and Logan were playing some card game and You just listened to music, sharing headphones with Aiden. You lay your head on the window and drift off, feeling a hand on yours.

You get shaken awake, and you groan but gather your things and skateboard and get off the train, leading the way. You jump onto your skateboard and you guys skate/walk for about 15 minutes when you finally get there. “Here we are!” You say and pay for your entry, putting away your things and grab your phone along with your skateboard and run to the rink, doing a quick board slide. The others cheer you along as you drop in and do a rock to fakie.

Aiden watches you with a smile and Tyler and Taylor do their own thing as Ty teaches his sister the basics. Logan and Ben were off somewhere probably in the trampoline park and Ashlyn watched everyone, taking videos. “I��ll need to ask her to send me that later.” You think to yourself and manual.

You mind your own buiseness, riding up to a ramp when a kid suddenly jumps in your away, making you manual a bit too quickly so you fell on your elbow. “Fucking hell.. watch it kid!” You yell and hiss in pain as you look at the now bleeding elbow. Aiden noticed the fall and ran over to you and inspected the wound; “Hey are you okay? That was a nasty fall.” He says and you laugh; “Come on i’ve had it so much worse before, and plus people break bones doing this shit so i’m fine.” You say and stand up and walk over to the sitting area and take out some bandages you brought along in this type of situation. Aiden snatches them from you and looks at you with a kind smile; “Let me do it.” He doesn’t even give you time to reply and is already carefully wrapping the wound. Your face feels hot and you look anywhere but at Aiden, looking for the others yet they were nowhere to be found.

“There, that should be better, and by the way, when did you start skating? Your pretty good, almost better then me!” He teases and wraps and arm around your shoulder. You chuckle and smirk, teasing right back; “Oh yeah? How about a game of skate?” You challenge him and wait for his response, already knowing the answer. “Hell yeah! I’ll win for sure!” He runs to get his skate and you do the same, and that was the start of a very long game of skate. You guys got bored after a while, agreeing on a tie and sit down, breathing heavily as if you ran a marathon. The others came back and everyone agreed on going to the restaurant that was across the street from the skating rink. You walk with your skates and decide to hide them somewhere at the back of the building and head inside the restaurant, ordering food and refreshing drinks immediately.

You sit down in the booth and Aiden slides in next to you along with Ben and Logan, the others sitting on the opposite side. Everyone chatted and joked around and your elbow was killing you along with your legs as well. Your eyes droop a bit but you take a sip of your drink that shakes you awake slightly. Aiden taps you on the knee and you look up at him, raising a brow. He leans in and whispers into your ear with a low tone; “You okay? You look kinda off.” He says and you smile reassuringly and give him a thumbs up under the table. He hums and smiles as the waiter brings the food everyone has been craving for the past 5 hours. You eat your food in silence, some chatting here and there but mostly you guys Te in peace. After everyone was full you decided to go to the bathroom to clear your mind, of course not letting them know the reason. You walk into the bathroom and sigh, they were empty, unlike many other restaurants and you shrug, walking over to the mirror and fix your hair up a bit when you notice Aiden in the mirror. “Hey, I know I asked already but you really don’t seem fine. Is it the elbow?” He jokes and you shrug, giving him a slight smile; “I’m fine don’t worry okay? My body is killing me though.” You say and stretch your body, some satisfying cracks echoing throughout the bathroom. You go to leave when you get embraced in a warm hug, a hand running up and down your back. “Relax for a bit, they won’t notice we’re gone.” He whispers and you guys stay like that for a few minutes when you finally let go. He looks at you lovingly and your face feels hot as you avert your gaze away from him.

He lifts your face to look at him and leans in, your lips brushing against each other and your eyes meet, Aiden looking at you as if asking for consent. You inch closer and he takes that as a yes, soft lips meeting yours. Your lips move in sync with each other and his hands wander down to your waist. You pull away and you hide your flushed face in the crook of his neck. He chuckles lowly and hugs you close. “You know i’ve liked you ever since that day we went out to get the jeep.” He says and you look at him with a confused look; “But I thought you liked Ash—” You get cut off by a finger on your lips and he smile; “Remember I had my eyes on you the whole time, I may have been comforting Ash but I had my eyes on you. I didn’t know how to approach you, ya know?” He says and leaves kisses all over your face. “Now I’ve got you all to myself~” He says and holds your hand, dragging you out to the others who stared at you and whistled, Ben looking at Aiden with a proud smile.

Later that day when everyone finally got home, Aiden messaged you and soon after you heard a knock on your bedroom window. You playfully roll your eyes and mumble “Idiot.” quickly opening the window. Aiden hops in and tackles you in a hug, you falling back on the bed. “Hey! What are you doing?” You chuckle and play with his hair. You hear a mumbled “I missed you.” And you giggle, making him look up at you. “We haven’t seen each other for like 45 minutes?” “Too long.” He shrugs and peppers your face with kisses, moving down to your neck and collar bone. Your eyes droop and you start to fall asleep, finally in his embrace.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[liillyliilly]

Marshmallow Madness

bokuto koutarou x reader words; 1482 synopsis; Marshmallows are one way to lift Bokuto Koutarou’s mood. The other being Y/n, but what happens when the two get mixed?

Fukurodani celebrates almost all of their special occasions with a campfire and s’mores.

Y/n has always been fond of the little tradition, since it was a way to connect with the team members of the volleyball club outside of school and volleyball matches.

Seeing as it was Bokuto’s birthday, everyone decided to get together and spend the night in his backyard roasting marshmallows and sharing their favorite stories of Bokuto. Y/n sat in her camp chair, soaking in the warm fire and the presence of her closest friends.

Laughter was floating around in the air like a perfume made of happiness. Y/n sipped on her hot chocolate and let the dense milk chocolate coat her throat in a soothing manner. Closing her eyes for a moment before opening them, slightly surprised to see Bokuto standing in front of her. When she jumped slightly, Bokuto chuckled before using his left thumb to wipe away the small whipped cream mustache that Y/n had grown after drinking some of her liquid confidence.

“You had a little something on your face.” Bokuto explained before falling down into the chair next to Y/n, which only made her heart race further. The way her heart hit her own chest was like some kind of self-punishment for having a crush on Bokuto Koutarou. But before she could even wish him a happy birthday, Bokuto hopped out of the seat and ran off to go talk with some of the other Fukurodani volleyball team members.

How could a teenage boy be so suave? But especially a teenage boy who was known for going into an 'emo' mood when things didn't go his way. She begged for the universe to make more sense. She begged her heart to see the logical fallacy, that Bokotu's behavior wasn't smooth but rather rather clumsy and geeky. Who was she fooling?

As a sort of teasing exchange, Bokuto had his hair pulled into two pigtails on either side of his head, and Akaashi had a pair of marker eyebrows drawn on to make him look angry. So, everyone couldn’t help but giggle when Akaashi turned around to ask a question.

“Anyone want the last s’more?” Akaashi waved the treat around on a plate as if he was offering up a sacrifice to the heavens. Y/n raised her hand lightly, before shrugging and giving an offhanded statement of how she hadn’t had one yet.

Munching on the dry graham cracker, silky chocolate, and spongy marshmallow, Y/n realized that this was the best s’more she had ever had. Licking her lips and smiling, she stood up and walked over to the campfire to compliment Akaashi on his expert s’more making skills when Bokuto started rambling.

“AKAASHI!!! Did you save that s’more for me like I asked? I’m ready for it now.” Bokuto giddily moved from side to side as he awaited a prize that would never come along. Y/n felt all the color out of her face drain. And suddenly the s’more in her mouth turned to solid rock as she tried to figure out what to do next. Swallowing what remained of the dessert, Y/n pressed her lips into a straight line and tried not to slink away from this confrontation.

“Um, Bokuto, about your s’more. Akaashi gave it to me.” Y/n clasped her hands behind her back. Bokuto slumped his shoulders, before perking back up again. The way the fire’s orange light glowed on him made him look like he was painted with streaks of pure sunlight.

If her eyes were shining with hearts, she's grateful that no one made a comment on it.

“Hey, it's okay, you can just help me find where I put the extra bag of marshmallows inside my house.” Without a second thought Bokuto dragged Y/n into his house. While Bokuto scrambled around opening and then slamming cupboard doors closed, Y/n decided to meander over to a wall that was covered in pictures.

In one of them was a younger Bokuto, with a large gap where his two front teeth should have been, he was sticking his tongue over the empty space. She giggled while tracing his little button nose from the glass covered image. Another image was an older Bokuto, his elbows were bloody but he was still smiling, a discarded bicycle sat in the background of the picture. The next image made Y/n pause, it was one of her and Bokuto. They were barely first years and she was wearing her hair in that god-awful style that she still cringes over.

Bokuto had wanted to put his arm around her in the picture so she obliged and also set her arm on his shoulders. They were acne ridden and unaware of the future, staying stuck in the present rather than worrying over college entrance exams or even having a breakdown over volleyball. The picture wasn’t that weird, but the thing that made it different was the little heart drawn between their heads.

Y/n knew that Bokuto had drawn it because of the little tail on the heart that dipped down slightly further than necessary. In his crooked handwriting, at the bottom of the image were the words: Love you to the moon and back Y/n! It was a cheesy statement, but she wondered if the words still held the same meaning as they did when he was a first year. Had his feelings changed? Or was she destined to remain a mere friend to Bokuto?

“Y/n! Come here please!” Bokuto urged. Y/n brushed her hand over the wooden picture frame before going into the kitchen. Bokuto was standing with his hands on his hips, and a forlorn expression plastered onto his face.

“No marshmallows then?” Y/n asked, mimicking Bokuto’s stance. She let out a long sigh before speaking up, “I really am very sorry about eating your s’more Bo. I should've waited, it's your birthday after all.”

Bokuto tugged on the cuffs of his long sleeve shirt before taking a step forward. “It’s okay, I don’t really mind. But there is something that I’ve been wanting for my birthday for years, and I think you can give that to me instead.”

“It better not be too expensive. I spent a lot of money on ramen last week when you and I hung out.” Y/n pouted, before poking Bokuto in the arm as a tease. In reality, she knew that she would be willing to drop any amount of money for Bokuto. Always trying to pay him back for one thing or another, and for most of her life she was just trying to pay him back for all the love she received from him.

When Bokuto kept walking forward, Y/n backed up slightly, only to bump into the kitchen island. Bokuto set his hands on either side of her body, gripping the granite counter loosely. He refused to look her in the eyes, instead staring at the space beside her head.

“I’ve wanted this for years, but I only want it if you want it too. Because otherwise it would just be really creepy.” He chuckled, a sad laugh that hit lowly on her heart. Y/n used her hand to move his head so that he would meet her eyes with his ones of melted gold.

The house was deadly quiet, a stark contrast from all the laughter and meaningless chatter from the backyard. Glancing down to her lips, Bokuto flushed before rushing to meet her eyes again. Y/n licked her lips, applying a glossy sheen to them.

“Just so I make this clear for you, once we kiss, we aren’t just friends anymore.” Y/n whispered.

“I know. We’re going to be boyfriend and girlfriend.” Bokuto was drained of any melancholy that had ever been present.

“If that’s what you want.” Y/n cupped his face with her hand and Bokuto leaned into her soft touch.

As Bokuto pressed his lips to hers, she felt entirely weightless. She wanted to keep the feeling of his lips on hers to be embalmed through a snarling sweetness. Bokuto only broke away from the kiss because he was smiling too much. He laughed and suddenly Y/n started to laugh with him, Bokuto ran a hand through his hair, only to be greeted with the pigtails from earlier. Y/n tugged the hair ties out gently, letting Bokuto run his hands through his hair to adjust his hair as he saw fit.

“Your lips taste like marshmallows.” Bokuto licks his lips before giving a pleased hum. He rests his hands on her hips, "There's another thing I want for my birthday."

"Hm?"

"But I think it'll have to wait until your 18th birthday."

"HM???"

He just brought her into another kiss, deeper and with more promise in it.

[callsign-venus]

For the Love of Love | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw | Part III

Part I | Series Masterlist

Summary: It's time for Bradley to meet the family. Good luck :)

Word count: 5k

a/n: I started writing this in winter, and now summer is literally coming up on my ass lol. Shoutout to the southern hemisphere, this fic is in season there. But seriously, regardless of where you are in the world, hope y'all enjoy x

As your family barreled down the cabin stairs, you turned to Bradley. You weren’t sure you got the reassurance you needed when he looked up from fixing his hair in the rearview mirror, winked, and said, “Good luck, you’ll need it.”

You rolled your eyes and swung open the car door. As soon as your feet hit the ground, Tommy nearly tackled you into the snow.

Your brother was somehow still growing. Much to your annoyance, he was even taller than when you saw him last. Still, he smelled like your parents’ house, and being in his arms was like sneaking a slice of your childhood from behind the universe’s back.

When Tommy finally let you go, you didn’t have a moment to breathe before Georgia crushed you in another hug. You had forgotten how nice it was to be in the arms of the woman you would one day call your sister-in-law. Her reddish, curly hair tickled your cheek and her words warmed your core as she whispered in her gentle manner, “I’m so glad to see you again.”

Nora and Sabrine were waiting for their turn to greet you, Nora somewhat less patiently. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, sending her thick braid slapping against her puffy green vest. Sabrine was a stiller picture. She wore a soft smile, but her wide brown eyes narrowed, and she raised protective hand over her baby bump when she caught sight of the stranger unfurling himself from the passenger seat. 

“Oh, guys,” you said. Your nerves were singing as you put the plan into place, no matter how much you practiced (which you were realizing wasn’t nearly enough). “I’d like everyone to meet my boyfriend, Bradley.”

Tommy cocked his head. “Boyfriend? I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

Nora took a step back, trying to fit you and Bradley together in a single picture. Sabrine’a gaze stayed hard.

From the porch, your Aunt Marnie called out, “Who’s the handsome gentleman in the driveway?”

You worried your fingers, shifted from foot to foot. It was impossible to force words through your teeth as your family looked at you for an answer.

Bradley saved the already sinking ship by rounding the car and slipping a hand around your waist, which made it as hard for you to stand as it was for you to talk. He stuck out his hand toward Tommy. “Nice to see you again.”

Tommy took his hand but looked at you with one eyebrow raised.

Though you were struggling to balance on two wobbly legs, Bradley’s hand on your waist was strangely comforting. He was the other half of this insane plan, after all. With his support, your words finally tumbled out of you.

“Surprise! I didn’t want to mention it until I knew I was sure but…” You rested a shaky hand on Bradley’s chest. “I’m sure.”

Your words thickened the mountain air as Tommy, Nora, and Sabrine tried to make sense of your surprise. Thank god for Georgia, who nearly tackled Bradley in a giant hug. Her decision swayed the others, who closed around him and welcomed him into the family by giving him too little personal space and too many questions to answer.

At least he handled it well enough that everyone’s attention was drawn to him, and you could slip away to unload the trunk.

Graciously, Bradley carried your luggage up to the cabin. Tommy, Georgia, and Nora swarmed him like summer bugs to a campfire. Even Sabrine softened and asked about your flight. You’d never brought anyone home, and you could safely assume they hadn’t expected you to bring a giant naval aviator to Grandma and Grandpa’s 60th wedding anniversary. You smiled, though the mountain air left you a bit breathless.

Auntie Marnie held the door open as you all piled into the cabin. The fire was flickering in the living room, chasing off the cold that trailed you inside. Hugs from everyone chased off the numbness of your skin. There was Grandma Sybil, who eyed Bradley with such suspicion that you were sure your ruse had been found out already. Grandpa Thomas, who tussled your hair and smelled just a little bit like cigarettes. Sabrine’s husband Matt gave you a ginger hug that couldn’t belie how new he was to the family. Owen and Addison gave you one big hug (they almost always move as a single unit).

Your parents saw Bradely (he was hard to miss), but they stayed focused on you.

“My baby.” Your mom’s voice coated you like a warm honey, though her words struck a chill through you. “How are you? Why didn’t you tell us about Bradley?”

“Umm…” Maybe it was more than just the thin mountain air leaving you breathless. “I just wanted to be sure before I told you all.”

It sounded more convincing outside, with the ancient pines to bear witness. In the living room crammed with people, your lie was somehow much less believable. Your mother’s eyes were cold as they searched yours, but they broke away when your dad enveloped you in a hug.

“Missed you, kiddo.” He kissed the crown of your head.

“Missed you too, Dad.”

But even if your surprise was on shaky ground thanks to Grandma Sybil and your mom, yours was not the only surprise. You were shocked — and grateful — to find that while Nora and Madison had summited K2, they had most recently embarked on a new kind of adventure.

His name was Henry, he had curly brown hair, and he was 3 years old. Grandpa Thomas had pulled out you and your cousins’ old toys, and Henry was playing contently on the bearskin rug with a Tickle Me Elmo and a smattering of Polly Pockets, some of the dresses bearing permanent teeth imprints. 

In the current of people, you found yourself reaching for Bradley like he was a rock you could cling to in the storm. Like he was really your boyfriend. For his part, he grabbed your hand and didn’t let go, not when your dad clapped him on the shoulder and said “I trust you’re taking good care of her” and not when your mom locked eyes with him and only smiled.

You jumped in, despite the nervousness bubbling in your throat. “He’s taking good care of me, Mom and Dad. I’m very happy.”

“And I’m happy whenever she’s happy.” Bradley sealed the deal with a wink that left you studying the floor.

Auntie Elaine walked into the room like a force of nature, her cheeks permanently red, maybe from the freezing Alaskan winds. She clapped once, commanding everyone’s attention like you all were her sled dogs. “Come on, people, stop swarming the two. I’m sure they want to go upstairs and get settled.”

The knot of people around you loosened. You mouthed her a thank you, and she gave you a nod with the barest hint of a smile.

Bradley carried all your luggage up the staircase. Two flights up to your little attic room. It smelled like the vanilla cupcake body mist you wore every day as a teen — and it probably always would. The steeply slanted roof cut into the room, making it seem even smaller than it already was.

Bradley dropped the bags with several resounding thumps. Instead of his attention falling to the window which offered a glimpse of the lake, his eyes were on the full sized bed shoved into the corner of the room, the ceiling hanging low over it.

You rubbed the back of your neck. Your grandma had crocheted the pink, red, and blue afghan that dressed up the bed, somehow making it look smaller and more juvenile.

Fuck. It wasn’t like you could offer Bradley the couch if you were to be the perfect couple. “I forgot about this. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.” Bradley chuckled. “Well, do you think they bought it?”

“I think so?” The room was so small you could hear the rhythm of his breathing. “I’m so happy Nora and Madison surprised everyone with Henry, though. Hopefully that means the heat will be off us.”

“Everyone is very interested in our dating life. Well, Georgia and your Auntie Marnie, at least. I told them we’ve been dating for five months, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You ran a hand over the solid oak dresser, your fingertips collecting powdered sugar dust. “They’ll probably want to know everything. It’s ok if there are some small discrepancies, as long as we look the part.”

His eyes finally ripped away from the bed. He took in the Raggedy Anne doll on your nightstand, the one Grandpa Thomas brought to the hospital when you were born. Your high school copy of Frankenstein laid open next to it, its worn pages exhausted by silly teenaged annotations. The bikini you wore last summer — bright red and studded with white polka dots — hung from the back of an old rocking chair. It clashed absurdly with the gleaming snow that frosted the pines outside. You fumbled to stuff it in the first dresser drawer you managed to fling open.

You were soaked into every part of this bedroom — from the shag rug to the yellow-wood walls. Bradley standing in it (his hair skimming the slanted ceiling) made you feel naked.

He tapped a plastic orange frame perched on your dresser. It was a picture taken from the lakeshore of you and Nat on a paddleboard almost a decade ago. Not five seconds after Tommy had snapped the photo, the two of you had plunged into the lake. But that was something you’d tell Bradley if you’d invited him into your room because you loved him, not because you were tricking your family into thinking you’d finally found someone. 

So instead you said, “Are you ready to face my family again?”

“Am I ever?”

He held out his hand, and after a moment of hesitation, you took it. Your fingers were a bit sweaty, but he gave you a reassuring squeeze as you two descended the stairs, the clamor of your family growing louder with each step. Your mind was dizzy trying to comprehend that Bradley Bradshaw was meeting your family. You’d daydreamed about this more often than you would ever admit. You just wished it was real.

You had to give him credit; he played the role of your secret-almost-but-not-quite-long-term boyfriend very well. He talked easily with your dad about the NBA playoffs. He withstood the questions Tommy lobbed at him about flying planes. He played dominos with you and your aunts. He helped Sabrine in the kitchen until he snuck too much cookie dough and she shooed him out. He made your heart flutter when he got on the floor and played trains with Henry.

“Choo choo!” He said as he pushed a bright red engine with a mismatched purple caboose down the wooden tracks on the living room floor.

Henry giggled and ran a yellow engine up Bradley’s leg.

You hid your smile with a sip of cocoa, but Bradley caught sight of you across the room and beckoned you to join. You sat next to him, a little farther than an actual girlfriend would. He closed the gap by circling an arm around you. You almost didn’t flush at his touch after spending nearly the whole day at his side. Almost.

Nora and Madison were watching the three of you from the love seat, Madison’s legs flopped over Nora’s, comfy silence stretched over them like a quilt. Your heart quickened at the sight of actual love. Bradley’s arm suddenly felt foreign against you.

Before your thoughts spiraled too far, Henry offered you a passenger car to play with. You set it on the tracks, but he shook his head.

“Like this.” He ran his train down Bradley’s leg.

“Hey,” Bradley said through a giant grin. “My legs aren’t train tracks!”

But your little cousin had given you clear instructions, and you followed them. A warmth rippled through you as the wheels of the toy train car gilded smoothly over Bradley’s sweatpants. He'd been comfortable touching you since the moment you’d met on a particularly rowdy night at the Hard Deck (because any friend of Nat’s was a friend of his). During that first bear hug, some part of him must have broken off and lodged in your heart, and you’d spent so long trying to pry it out or ignore it that it felt nice to actually indulge it. It wasn’t so much a splinter anymore as it was a shard of heat warming you from the inside. For the weekend, at least.

Someone stepped between you and the fire, blocking the heat. You looked up. Grandma Sybil was studying the two of you from behind her wire rimmed glasses.

“Dear,” her voice was clear like someone fifty years younger than herself, “why don’t you and Bradley come sit on the couch with me? I’d love the company.”

You tensed. You couldn’t remember if you warned Bradley enough about Grandma Sybil. You’d seen her question so many significant others, but that had never concerned you. Now it was Bradley’s turn, and he wasn’t even your significant other. But your grandma had already turned and was walking to her recliner, expecting you both to follow, so you let Bradley help you to your feet.

The two of you dropped awkwardly onto the couch. There was enough room between the two of you that you might have looked like strangers if not for the hand holding. With the fire and the oven on, it was really hot. And Grandma Sybil looked mightily unimpressed with the couple before her.

You scooted closer to Bradley, and he nearly pulled you into his lap. He gave you a look like Am I doing this right? The knots in your stomach knotted into more knots, but your grandmother held your full attention. She was the matriarch, and her judgment in your favor was crucial to keep up the ruse.

“Tell me,” she sat down on her recliner with a bit of effort, “Bradford –”

“Bradley,” you interjected on his behalf.

She waved you off. “What do you like about our granddaughter so much?”

You felt his breath catch a little. You clutched his hand in a death grip.

“She’s kind.” Bradley’s voice was steady. “She loves her family. I know she’ll always be there for me if I’m there for her. And when I first saw her, she took my breath away.”

Your heart swelled in spite of yourself, but Grandma Sybil seemed unconvinced, so you pipped in. “He’s a sweetheart, Grandma. He flies planes for the navy.”

She readjusted her glasses but didn’t say anything.

“He’s Nat’s friend.” You tried again.

“Oh, Natasha.” Grandma Sybil finally smiled. “What a great girl. How is she?”

“She’s doing good.” It was easier to speak now. “She wishes she could be here, but she had work. She’s very in demand.”

Grandma Sybil looked pointedly at Bradley. “And how do you know Natasha?”

“Grandma, I just told you; he flies planes for the navy.”

“It’s ok.” Bradley rested his free hand on your arm. He was getting good at this. “I work with Nat a lot. She’s the perfect person to have with me in the sky.”

Grandma Sybil adjusted her glasses as if she was seeing Bradley in a new light. “Well, if Nat thinks you’re a good fit for our granddaughter –”

“She does,” you said.

“– then welcome to the family.”

She struggled out of the recliner and took Bradley’s face between her hands. She gave him a kiss on each cheek, then did the same for you.

“I knew you’d like him,” you told her. “He’s a catch, huh?”

She ignored you and stared into his eyes. “You be good to her, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bradley channeled his inner military man and straightened like a flagpole.

Even if he didn’t realize, he was being good to you. Only an insane person, or a really good friend, would try to help someone trick their family this way. You felt bad he had go through all the pains of meeting his girlfriend’s family without the girlfriend, but he smiled down at you with his big brown eyes, still holding your hand, and you felt as if – just maybe – there was some piece of you lodged in his heart.

Before you could properly chase that thought out of your head, Henry started crying. Nora and Madison rushed from their spot on the love seat to soothe him. Their attempts weren’t really working, and his cries mixed with the clinking of dominoes and the clattering of pots and pains threatened to raise a headache in you.

Your eyes fell to the hot tub on the porch.

“Hey Bradley?” You asked under the current of noise.

“Yes?” Did you imagine the twitch of his upper lip? Had your grandmother actually rattled him?

It was ok, though, because you had the perfect relaxing antidote to his troubles.

“Join me in the hot tub?”

You hadn’t known if Bradley would bring his swimsuit that he practically lived in during San Diego summers, but he confessed he had because he heard Lake more than Tahoe. It wasn’t like it was freezing in San Diego, he argued.

You suppressed your laugh up in your stuffy attic room as he stood with the Hawiian print swim trunks in hand.

“What?” He said. “I’m using them, aren’t I?”

“I guess. In a 102 degree hot tub, though, not the lake.” You were pulling your bikini out of the drawer you’d crammed it in earlier.

You both stood, pink shag rug between you, holding onto your swimsuits and staring at each other.

“What are we waiting for?” Bradley grinned. “We’ve been dating for five months.”

You stared at him.

“I’m teasing.” That’s what he said, but in the same breath he pulled his hoodie and shirt off with one swift motion.

Jesus Christ, you forgot how good he looked without a shirt. Your lungs absolutely refused to fill with enough oxygen.

“Hey.” His expression softened toward you, the playfulness traded for something more reassuring. “I won’t look if you promise not to look.”

“Promise.” The word hung limp in the air as you both turned your backs and shimmied into your swimsuits. You stared out your tiny window as you pulled on the bikini bottoms, watching the snow glare in the sunlight and trying to keep your mind from the fact that you and Bradley were basically naked in your old bedroom.

“You ready?” He asked.

You were fumbling with the tie of your bikini top. “Just a sec.”

The seconds passed like drops of snow melt. You counted every one. As more and more slipped by, the clumsier your fingers became.

“Bradley, are you looking?”

“No, ma’am.”

You sucked in a deep breath, “I can’t get this top tied. Can you help?”

“’Course.” He passed over your rug and took the strings from your hands. His fingers were warm as they grazed your back. “Is this too tight?”

“No, that’s perfect.” You were lightheaded with his body so close to yours, his breath tickling the bare skin of your shoulders, his beachy scent cutting through the lingering smell of your teenage body spray. With a shock, you remembered your manners. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem.” He patted your shoulder. “Now, I think there’s a hot tub somewhere around here, and it’s got our name on it.”

The freezing air stabbed your bare skin as you and Bradley ran out the front door and across the porch to the hot tub. You both practically dove into it, letting the warm water bring feeling back to your skin.

“Can they see us?” Bradley nodded towards the cabin windows from the opposite side of the tub.

“Most definitely.” If you stole a glance, you could see at least five of your family members watching you two from in front of the fireplace. “Are we selling it?”

He chuckled. “Not at all. We look like strangers. Could you get any farther from me?”

“Sorry. We’ve only been together every minute since 6:15 this morning.”

His expression flickered, but before you could figure out with what, it flattened into a smile again. “Well, do you want to convince your family or not?”

“I do.”

He opened his arms. “Then get over here.”

You swam over to his waiting arms and settled practically in his lap.

“What are we doing?” You asked, laying your head against his chest, careful to not lean too much of your weight onto him. Careful not to let your heart beat out of your chest.

“I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I’m having a great time in Tahoe.”

“Sorry about my grandmother.” You drifted your hand along the surface of the water.

“She just wants to know you’re ok. And I was more than happy to reassure her.”

You opened your mouth – to say you weren’t ok, look at what you were doing – but heavy steps along the deck stopped you. You turned to see Tommy and Georgia in swimsuits made of the same matching green gingham fabric.

“Mind if we join?” Your brother asked, but he was already climbing over the side of the tub.

“Sure,” you answered, though you knew he wasn’t actually asking for permission.

Georgia slipped in after Tommy. She smiled with a hint of apology in her green eyes. “Thanks.”

For a moment, no one said anything. Tommy and Georgia sat across from you, fitting against one another like puzzle pieces. He draped an easy arm over her shoulder, and she entwined her fingers with his without thinking. No asking for permission. No awkwardness here. You suddenly felt very aware of Bradley’s hard body against yours.

Slowly, conversation eased around you all. Tommy and Georgia talked about school – over on the east coast – where he was studying accounting and she was studying biochemistry. Bradley talked about working as a pilot, deployments on aircraft carriers, and the general tomfoolery he and the Daggers got up to. Tommy said Sabrine was upset that her child wouldn’t be the first grandchild after Henry. Georgia said your grandparents were upset because Owen and Addison were leaving tonight. Something about having to miss the anniversary dinner because it’s her mom’s birthday, and they’re celebrating in the Bahamas.

You spoke a little, but mostly you basked in the soft silence the conversation afforded you, counted icicles hanging from the eaves, and tried not to think so hard about relaxing into Bradley’s body. If Tommy and Georgia couldn’t be fooled, it was hopeless.

“So…” Tommy gestured with his and Georgia’s hand at the two of you. “Who said I love you first?”

“What do you mean?” Your voice came out cold and sharp like the icicles above without you meaning to.

Bradley put a reassuring hand on your thigh. You hadn’t meant to get defense, and your brother raised his eyebrows at you.

Georgia kicked a foot out of the water, showing off her pink toenails. “They say you can tell a lot about a couple based on who said I love you first and when.”

“Who says that?” Your voice was softer.

“We do.” She and Tommy said in sync.

“Well,” Bradley started before you could say anything and make it worse. “I did. We were at our usual bar. I was a little drunk, and she just looked so stunning I couldn’t help myself, so –”

“It was charming,” you said. “He played our song on the piano. It was so romantic.”

He nodded. “A little embarrassing too. All our friends were there.”

“It was sweet, though.” You kicked him lightly under the jets. You were supposed to be the perfect couple, why was he trying to play up his embarrassment of an event that never actually happened?

“Charmingly, embarrassingly sweet.” He settled on the story and you nodded along.

Georgia asked, “What’s your song?”

“Oh, umm, what’s it called, sweetie? It’s…” You looked at Bradley, suddenly blanking on every song title ever.

Bradley looked up, the gears in his brain so obviously turning you didn’t think Georgia or even Tommy would buy your relationship. Finally, he snapped his fingers. “It’s called Great Balls of Fire.”

Ok, so he had blanked on every song title as well if the only one he could pull out of his ass was the one he played every weekend night at the Hard Deck. At least you were equally hopeless at thinking on the fly.

Tommy and Georgia nodded slowly. When it was clear neither of you had anything else to add, Georgia asked, “How long were you dating?”

“Three months,” you said at the same time Bradley said, “One month.”

Confusion spread across their faces like frost over a window.

“Well, it’s kind of funny…” You trailed off when you couldn’t think of a kind of funny explanation.

“We’d known each other for three months,” Bradley picked up your slack. “But had only been official for one. But we’ve been in love from the moment we laid eyes on each other, so the math gets complicated.”

He squeezed your thigh, and the condensation of your breaths mingled in the late afternoon sun. Panic prickled your skin. If only he’d known how true his words rang, if only for you.

Luckily, Tommy and Georgia began talking about how they met in high school algebra class, and the conversation steered safely away from the topic of your relationship.

When the sun set, everyone jumped out of the hot tub and raced back into the warmth of the cabin. You and Bradley took turns warming up in the shower and had your fill of the pizza Grandpa Thomas ordered.

Owen and Addison left the cabin with giant suitcases and sheepish smiles. Grandma Sybil’s anger burned brightly as they walked out the door. She launched into a diatribe about ungrateful grandkids. Funnily enough, her audience was made of her grandkids who had cared enough to stay. You swapped we'll-talk-about-this-later glances with your cousins. After a few awkward minutes, Grandpa Thomas ushered her to bed.

Everyone was quick to say their goodnights after that. You and Bradley headed up to your room. Only to be greeted by the problem of your full-sized bed.

“I could sleep on the floor,” you offered, unable to bear his silence.

He shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I can do that.”

You bit your lip. You didn’t want to sleep on the floor, but Bradley had already done so much for you. He withstood Grandma Sybil, lied in front of your whole family, and the fact that he was even in Tahoe to begin with was still blowing your mind. You could take the floor for him.

“Seriously, get comfy in bed.” You pulled down the afghan and the comforter and fluffed the pillow a little. “I’ll grab some extra blankets.”

You slipped out the door before he could protest. You snuck down to the second floor where the linen closet was, just outside your parents’ room. You twisted the knob carefully so as not to alert them, but the closet door whined open anyway. You gathered whatever sheets and blankets were on top and shut it quickly but quietly.

Just when you thought you were in the clear, your mother opened her bedroom door. “Honey, it’s late. What do you need?”

You both glanced down at the abundance of quilts and sheets bundled in your arms. You had to think of an explanation, quick.

“Well, Bradley gets very cold at night. And it’s drafty up there.”

Your mom crossed her arms over her chest. “You used to complain all the time about how stuffy it was in your room.”

“That’s true.” You laughed and couldn’t meet her eyes. “I guess I run colder now than I used to.”

She looked at you over the frames of her reading glasses.

“Well, goodnight, Mom.” You turned to run back up the stairs.

“Honey?”

You swore silently but turned around.

“Is everything ok?” She asked. “You’ve been acting a little strange ever since you got here.”

“Oh, nothing’s the matter. I’m fine. I’m fine. Just, work’s been crazy, and with Bradley meeting the family, it’s been really stressful.”

“Ok.” Her face, which you’d known your whole life, was unreadable. “Let me know if I can do anything for you. I love you.”

“Love you too. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

When you were little, Sabrine would tease you by telling you the cabin was haunted. With the way you raced back to your room, it might have well been.

Bradley – damn him – was lying on your rug by the time you got back.

“I told you to take the bed.” You dumped the blankets onto the ground.

“I know.” He sat up and started grabbing the discarded blankets. “But I’m a gentleman. Take the bed.”

You were beyond tired. It had been a long day, and Bradley was already cocooning himself in blankets on the floor. An argument now would just draw out the inevitable.

You sighed. “I’m giving you the bed tomorrow night.”

“Whatever helps you sleep better,” he mumbled.

You turned off the lamp. It was as stuffy as it always was in your room, but you fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

Sometime in the night, you woke to a shadow looming over you in the moonlight. You yawned and rubbed your eyes, thinking you were seeing things, but the shadow only solidified as your vision adapted to the low light. It was a tall, Bradley-looking shadow.

“Move over.” His voice was gruff with sleep.

You scooted toward the opposite edge of the bed, too tired to complain or ask questions. Your ancient bedframe squeaked as you shifted, practically screamed when Bradley sank onto your mattress.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled as a way of an explanation, but you were too sleepy to need one.

Your bed kept squeaking and groaning as the two tried to settle in without bothering the other. There was a small tug-of-war with the blankets. You lost because really, there was no way to win against Bradley in feats of strength.

You smiled to yourself in the darkness. Bradley Bradshaw was in your bed. He wasn’t touching you, and he stole most of your blankets, but he was in your bed.

His snoring filled the room as you drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Taglist:

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[blackcherryvelvet0909]

Loving Waves (Cater x GN!Reader)

Content Warning: Mild angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of depression

You sat before a small, cozy fire, your towel wrapped around your shoulders. The sun had just set behind the sea, a blanket of stars cast above in its departure. While you and your friends would usually be back at the hotel by now, drying off and getting ready to eat dinner, you decided to chow down on some snacks by beachside fire instead. The chilly sea breeze was barely noticeable beside the crackling flames. The snacks were plentiful as well, ranging from fruits to hotdogs. That was to be said for every other campfire that now dotted the beach. You were all set for at least another hour or two. 

You then suddenly notice the empty space next to you. Your forehead creased, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked around. Where was Cater? He surely would have announced if he was going to the bathroom or fetching a drink. It wasn’t like him to just wander off without a word, especially amidst all the fun banter and lively conversation. Why, just minutes before his disappearance, you and the rest of your group had taken a picture for his Magicam account. Where could he have gone?

It seemed you weren’t the only one who took notice of his absence. When your gaze landed on Trey, who sat across from you, his eyes were fixated on the empty seat. He glanced over at you, expression unreadable for a moment before a sad smile stretched across his face. He then nodded his head to the side, gesturing over to the tall, rocky cliff that towered over the beach several feet away. You looked up to its peak, squinting as you tried to make out any figures. When there were none to be found, that could only mean one thing: Cater had retreated to the little space beside the cliff’s edge. It wasn’t too big of a place, but large enough to be a small beach of its own. 

With a nod of thanks to Trey, you stood up from your position next to the fire. Ace and Deuce glanced up at you, attention torn from whatever they’d been discussing. “Where are you going?” Ace asked, Deuce’s face conveying the same question. 

“I’m just gonna stretch my legs for a bit,” you answered. “They’re getting a bit stiff.” 

They seemed to buy your excuse. “Well, hurry back,” Ace grinned deviously, “or I’m going to steal your share of snacks.” 

“No he’s not.” Deuce gave Ace a ‘don’t you dare’ look before he smiled up at you. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t.” 

You chuckled. “At least one of you is looking after my well-being.” You began to walk off, but not before you glanced back over your shoulder. “I’ll be back in a bit.” 

With a nod from your friends, who returned to their own merriment, you made your way to the cliff. It wasn’t a long trek, but the sand slowed you down. You expected Cater to emerge from behind the rock wall at any moment, all smiles as he asked what you were doing. When you finally made it to the small beach and still found no sign of Cater, you wondered if Trey was mistaken. Just before you went to look somewhere else, you spotted a faint light from behind a small rock. It was just big enough to hide a person…and a person is what you found. 

Cater didn’t notice you at first. His green eyes were glued to his phone screen, scrolling through something you couldn’t see. If you had to guess though, it was likely Magicam. That was typical for Cater - what wasn’t was the look on his face. His lips were turned downward, his frown paired with tired, almost sad eyes. You could see bags under his lower eyelids; how had you not noticed them before? Come to think of it, Cater had been wearing makeup that morning. It must have washed off while you were all playing in the water. 

His knees were tucked under his chin, posture slouched as he continued scrolling. His solemn look could honestly put Idia to shame. Your heart clenched painfully at the mere sight of him. You were the rare few who knew of Cater’s depression, of his insecurities and fears. You wondered how long he’d felt like this…how you hadn’t noticed it sooner. Cater was good at hiding things, but you were equally as good when it came to pinpointing his true feelings. You felt guilty for being blind to his true mindset, for however long he’d been in it that day - or maybe longer. 

As you took a step closer, Cater finally noticed you. He was startled by your sudden appearance; if you’d surprised him anymore, he might have lept off the sand. As quick as that surprise came, it was just as quickly replaced by his usual carefree smile. He untucked his knees from his chin, phone screen black as he slipped it into his pocket. Cater tried to look as though nothing was amiss - as he often did, sadly. “Heya, [Y/n]. What’re you doing back here?” 

“I came to find you.” He seemed to notice your concerned tone, expression likely holding the same emotion. Even so, Cater pressed on, as though to make you forget what you saw. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry! Just needed to check something real quick.” He stood from his place behind the rock and dusted off his shorts. You could now get a better look at his face. There were…tear streaks on his cheeks. He’d been crying. “C’mon, let’s head back before-” 

“Cater.” The sudden sound of his name stopped the man mid-sentence. His eyebrows raised as he looked at you, silent as he let you continue. “What’s wrong?”

Cater feigned ignorance as he replied, “What do you mean? I’m fine.” 

“Cater.” You were almost afraid to touch him in fear of breaking a boundary, your hand raised in the air as you stopped yourself from grabbing his arm. “You’ve been crying - there’s tear streaks on your face.” Cater’s fingers came to touch his cheek, and just as he opened his mouth to speak, you cut him off. “And don’t try and tell me they’re from when we all were playing around earlier. I know better.” 

The two of you stood in silence. Cater’s head dropped as he looked down at the sand, seemingly trying to avoid your gaze. You took a leap of faith and finally touched his arm; you thanked whatever god there was that Cater didn’t pull away. He used to be so picky about you touching him the first few times you found him upset. You were happy he’d at least gained some level of comfort with you. “Cater, please,” you begged, voice soft as you tried to comfort him, “tell me what’s wrong.” 

For a few more seconds, Cater said not a word. Then, with a sigh that was almost pitiful, Cater dropped his cheerful persona. He put his hands in his pockets as he gave you a shrug, though still neglected to meet your eye. “I dunno…just one of those days where I think people don’t want me here, I guess.” 

“Did someone say something to you?” 

“No…” A few strands of hair fell free from his updo and dropped in front of his face. “It was just…I don’t know. Felt like everyone would have more fun without me.” His frown deepened as he shifted his feet. “A few locals recognized me from my Magicam earlier, too. I met them in the hotel lobby. Most were fine, friendly…but there were a couple that didn’t seem too happy to see me.” 

In your mind’s eye, you could see the dark tendrils of depression and self-doubt crawl up Cater’s spine, trapping him in their sick embrace. You wanted to rip them from his body, and from the troubled mine from which they came…but it was not that simple. You knew it wasn’t a straight path to recovery. Cater had his ups and downs, his hurdles to jump; there would be times he fell into the pits of despair. Unlike the past, however, you were now there to comfort him. Not only that, but to help him - pull him back up when he fell down. He wouldn’t give him, you wouldn’t allow it. 

“They might not have been,” you admitted. Your heart ached as you saw Cater’s shoulders slump a little more. His head lifted, however, when you gently took his hand. You looked deep into those sad green eyes as you spoke again. “But their opinions don’t matter. You have friends who care for you, Cater, that love to be around you.” You squeezed his hand a little tighter to emphasize your point, hoping he wouldn’t let go. “Even if they don’t entirely know the real you, I do - and as someone who knows the real Cater, I can say with full confidence they’ll love you just as much as I do.” 

There was a glimmer in Cater’s eyes, subtle yet bright. They looked a little hopeful now, and a little smile came to complement it. “You think so?”

“I know so.” 

Cater didn’t seem fully confident in that hope of yours - yet he grasped it anyway. His posture straightened as his smile grew, and the shadow over his face slowly faded. Unlike many smiles Cater wore day in and day out, this one was genuine. They seemed to come out more when you were around. “Thanks, [Y/n]...how’re you so good at words, huh? You cast a spell on me?”

You let out a giggle. “Nope - just my optimism and face in you.” 

Cater’s gaze softened as he let out a faint chuckle. You were delighted as he laced his fingers with yours, now gripping your hand just as tight. “I’ll try not to disappoint you then,” he said.

“You never could,” you reassured. 

Once again, you two stood in silence; this time, however, it was a peaceful one, filled with a nice fuzzy haze that always accompanied your quiet moments together. It was like you were both in a trance, lost in the eyes of the other - something you two seemed to do often. Cater, as usual, was the first to realize. He tugged your hand as he stepped away from the rock. “C’mon, we should go. If we don’t, people might think we’re doing something nefarious~” 

You laughed as you let him pull you along. “And what nefarious deed would that be?” 

“Mm, I don’t know, you tell me.” A smirk teased on his lips as he leaned down towards your face. “You’re the one who said you loved me.” 

“Wh-Wha?!” Cater chuckled as you stammered, eyes narrowed in delight. “When did I say that?” 

“When you said our friends would love me just as much as you do.” Yeah, Cater was teasing you now. “You sounded so genuine,” he got closer as he stopped you both in your tracks, “don’t tell me you lied.” 

“N-No, of course not! I meant every word, I just-” 

“You don’t have to get all flustered about it.” Cater was so close now; you could feel his breath against your lips. Your heart hammered in your chest as he inched closer, like he was going to…he kissed the tip of your nose before he pulled back again, though remained close. “I love you too~” 

Wait…was he…? Did he just…? You felt as though the air had left your lungs. Your cheeks burned red hot; you wanted to shy away, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him. They looked so soft…so sincere, despite his teasing. He waited patiently for you to say something, hand still intertwined with yours. You could feel the other ghost over your back as he tilted his head to the side. 

“Cater…d-do you-”

“There you are!” The sudden voice startled you both. Cater swiftly pulled away from you, head turned to look at the individual walking towards you: Riddle. “Where have you two been? It’s late! According to rule #42, the night curfew-” 

“Is nine p.m sharp, yeah.” Cater cut Riddle off, for he knew at least half of them by heart now. “C’mon Riddle, we haven’t been gone that long. It’s only,” Cater pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed the button to rouse it. The sudden burst of light burned your eyes; of course, Cater was used to it. When you squinted, you could see the time on the phone clock read…9:00 p.m. 

“Well shit.” Cater put his phone in his pocket as he let out a nervous chuckle. “Sorry, I guess we were gone longer than I thought. Sorry, Riddle…please don’t off my head?” 

“You’re lucky if I don’t collar you both.” Riddle appeared irritated, enough that you thought you would hear his signature ‘Off with your head!’ Surprisingly, that didn’t come. Instead, a tired sigh left his lips, “But, this time, I will let it slide. I myself neglected to keep up with the time. I am ashamed it was Professor Crewel who reminded me and the others of the time, and ordered us back to the hotel.” 

Wow, Riddle neglected the time? That was unusual…you guessed he was having a bit too much fun tonight. You couldn’t help but smile a little at the thought. “We’re both sorry, Riddle,” you said. “We were all just having too much fun!” You looked the young man in his gray colored eyes as you continued. “We’ll head back with you.” 

“Yes…thank you.” Riddle sighed again as he turned away and started walking back towards the campfire you’d shared with him and the others. “I will collect my things and meet you at the walkway.” The last thing you heard from the housewarden was him grumble, “I already have to wrestle Ace into leaving.” 

Well, if you two weren’t going to be collared, you knew who might. Before your thoughts could get too carried away, you felt Cater squeeze your hand a little. You looked up to see his usual smile stretched across his face. “C’mon, let’s go. Even if we won’t get collared, we don’t need Crewel on our butts.” 

You smiled and nodded in agreement. You were so happy to see Cater in a better mood. Hopefully you could help him keep it the rest of the trip. Just as you two neared the remnants of your campfire, just put out by Trey, Cater suddenly tugged you backwards. You gasped as your back hit his chest, the fabric of his opened red shirt brushing your arms. His mouth drew close to your ear as he spoke in a hushed whisper. 

“Come find me later, yeah?” You could feel his smile against your skin. “I’ll tell you everything~” 

Before the shiver could even course through your entire body, you were back beside Cater. He led you towards your things and waved at your friends as you approached. You were glad the fire was out and the moon was the only thing that lit the beach. If it wasn’t, everyone would definitely see the blush on your cheeks. Thankfully, Cater was there to help you gather your stuff and walk you to the entrance of the beach. 

And he rarely ever let go of your hand. 

[dearsnow]

HERE WE COME

- you begin your journey on dragonbreath mountain with your best friend and a couple of unwelcome guests. (jacaerys velaryon, aemond targaryen, & aegon targaryen x gn!reader)

word count: 1,068

DRAGONBREATH MOUNTAIN: when you decided to become a camp counselor with your best friend, jacaerys velaryon, you never knew exactly what the trip would entail.

You step out of the travel van, your booted feet sticking in a small patch of mud. You thank the driver with a smile and turn around to look at your surroundings, awestruck. The air is fresh, scented with pine needles and wet grass. Every little piece of this place is gorgeous. There are countless trees, stretching far into the distance, and the horizon is decorated with scrawling mountains. Each one seems larger than the one before, surrounding the little clearing with walls of earth and stone. You take a deep breath and turn to the boy next to you.

“Damn, I never knew nature could be this beautiful.” You breathe. “How have you never brought me up here before, Jace? One picture and I would’ve packed my bags.” You can hear the faint rumbling of a waterfall, hidden by the trees and rocks. 

He smiles, eyes darting around like today is the first time he has ever seen the outside world. “First of all, phones aren’t allowed up here. You have to turn them in to the camp leader when we actually reach camp. He’s pretty strict about them. I should know, he’s taken my phone away at home more times than I can remember.” You laugh at that. “And secondly,” He takes a pause, “I remember you saying that you like hot water better than mountaintop views.” He raises his eyebrows in your direction. He’s right, and you know it. That doesn’t stop you from hating the look on his face, though, the one that’s screaming “I told you so”.

He’s been going to this camp since he was seven years old. Every year, he would return home and regale you with tales of hiking trails, hidden beauties, and campfire songs. Camp Dragonbreath means the absolute world to him. When he got too old to be a camper, however, he returned as a counselor. This is the first year he’s been able to convince you to come along for the ride.

You grab your backpack from inside the rickety old camp van, but as you try to pick up your suitcase, Jace stops you. He lifts both your suitcase and his with ease, setting them down on a dry patch of land. You can’t help but notice that he looks good while he does it, his arm muscles stretching against his thin t-shirt. You shake the thought away as another van rolls into the area. He squints, searching for the blurry faces in the windows.

Jace audibly groans the moment he catches a glimpse of the people in the beat-up vehicle. “Wonderful, my relatives.” You furrow your eyebrows.

“Relatives? I thought you had to be between seventeen and twenty-five to be a camp counselor.” Your mind races to Luke, his kid brother, and his parents. His step-father is the camp leader, which you know, but he’s been at the camp itself for a couple days now. You don’t know anyone else that could possibly be in that van.

He presses his lips into a thin line and crosses his arms. “Yeah, my cousins are around our age. Aegon and Aemond. I almost forgot they would even be here. They’ve never taken an interest in this place before, but I guess this year I got unlucky.” He turns towards you, decidedly putting his body between you and the others. “I try to stay away from them, and you should too.”

Now you’re confused. How did your best friend hide his family from you that well? “Why?” You ask, your mind reeling. If a kind, strong, and amazing person like Jace hid people from you, they must be jerks or something.

“You’ll see.” He mutters, closing the door to your van. The driver peels out of the lot, probably going to store the vehicle in some secluded place while the camp goes on. You wonder how many people have sat in the same seat as you, scrunching your nose slightly. Your attention is once again quickly diverted to the other van as the inhabitants open the door.

The first one out has curly white hair and eye bags that seem to reach down into the pits of hell. He’s weirdly handsome, resembling the very tired posterboy for a teen romcom. The other is tall, slender, and sharp. One of his eyes is covered with a patch, his sleek, snow-colored hair falling over his shoulders gracefully. He is also handsome, but in the way a knife is handsome. You suck in a breath.

“Jacey!” The first one calls. “What are you doing with someone as stunning as that? Did a poor soul finally take pity on you?” Immediately, you know why he didn’t want you to meet them. Your cheeks grow warm at the jeer as the second boy looks at the first, mildly disappointed. 

Jace sighs, resting a hand lightly on his forehead. “No, Aegon, this is my best friend. Not like you would know, you’ve never had a friend in your life.” He shoots back. Your eyes widen, a small smile finding its way to your face as he speaks. You never knew Jace was one to fight back like that. Of course, no one had ever teased him in a similar fashion while you were around before.

Aegon looks hurt, turning to his brother with an exaggerated swagger. “I’ve had friends, plenty of them. Right, Aem?” 

He rolls his good eye. “Not that I’ve ever seen.” He mutters coldly. Your small smile turns into a large grin as Aegon deflates, turning to you for support.

“It’s never too late to start making them. Will you be my friend, gorgeous?” He asks. Aemond smacks the back of Aegon’s head.

“It’ll be an incredibly long hike to the campsite if you continue on this way.” He sneers. There’s an icy look in his gaze, though it’s cut with just a hint of affection. They’re definitely interesting people. With the way Jace is staring at them, though, with burning eyes, you think there might be something other than cousinly rivalry present. 

Jace hands you your suitcase. “Let’s get going. The camp is just up that hill, at the foot of Dragonbreath Mountain.” He gestures to a small trail to your right, marked with a sign. “If we’re lucky, we’ll lose those two along the way.” He whispers under his breath. You stifle a laugh.

“Dragonbreath Mountain, here we come.”

Taglist (comment or send an ask to join): @valeskafics @savagemickey03 @bespinnn

[coffeecat1983]

Luigi's Mansion 3: "A Friend in the Biz" pt 3. (Finale)

   Soft clicking and the whir of the editing machine were accompanied by humming as Morty worked on his film. As he checked over a strip of film he blinked. Purple light came from behind him.      "Excuse me, but I simply cannot work with that li-" he turned and was met with baleful glowing eyes. A sharp cackle as a picture frame floated into view.      "Gravely thinks it's safe to leave you here. But I think I need a new painting!" King Boo growled.

   Luigi coughed as dust flew up. All around him various ghosts were picking through the remains of the hotel. Debris crunched underfoot as Mario came over.      "What do we do now? It's been ruined." Luigi said.      "We rebuild, of course!" E. Gadd came over, hard hats in hand. "We have enough ghosts and and people here to make a crew, we can rebuild better than ever!" Mario laughed as he accepted a hard hat. "Whadda ya say, lil bro? Ready to do plumbing for an entire hotel?"    Taking the hat, Luigi went to put it on but stopped as a call came from one of the ghosts. No longer under Hellen's control, Steward had been let out of containment and had been digging in the mess. He pulled something out and rushed over to the others.    Luigi let out a cry when he saw what the ghost was carrying. Morty was trapped in the painting, an expression of horror and anger on his face as he glared out. Scrambling to turn on the dark light Luigi's hands shook as the beam struck the painting. A hum and Morty shot out of his prison.      "You horrid, vile, cinema hating...!" Morty stopped and looked around in confusion. "I, where am I?"       "Morty!" Luigi grabbed the ghost in a hug, startling him even more.      "Luigi?" He returned the hug. "My young star, what on earth happened? Where's the hotel?"    Letting up a weak laugh, Luigi rubbed the back of his neck. "It, um, it's there." he waved his hand to the mess. Morty took in all in and then saw the other people nearby.      "You beat King Boo, didn't you?" he said, looking at Luigi with pride. "I knew you were more than just a movie star!"      "Movie star?" Mario came over, eyebrow raised. Luigi chuckled nervously. "It's a long story."    E. Gadd strutted past them. "Stories can wait, we have a hotel to rebuild!"

Work began and everyone agreed to stay and see it to the end. As a result a campsite was set up and that night a large campfire was lit. After dinner was done, Luigi joined Morty by the fire. The ghostly director was holding something that glinted in the light and Luigi realized it was a mangled film reel.      "My one masterpiece. Ruined." Morty said softly. "And I can't find the photo of my sister."      "Your sister?"    Morty tenderly set the reel aside. "Did you know most forget their lives once they turn into ghosts? I didn't though. I still remember my life, my family. I had a little sister, three years younger than me, and my best friend. We both wanted to go into show business, she wanted to be a singer, I wanted to direct.    "She got her chance after a lot of practice. Was hired at a night club in New Donk City. That night after her first gig we were driving home." He stared into the fire. "It was storming, and late. We had an accident. Neither of us made it."    By now others had gathered, quietly taking their seats as they listened.      "There was a bright light but I wasn't able see anything past that. She did, and since she got to live her life's dream she was able to move on. I couldn't. The pull to make my masterpiece was too strong so I stayed behind. When Hellen came to me with the idea of the studio I was so excited! A chance to meet people, to make movies and find new talent! But people didn't want to work with a ghost director. Until you." he turned to Luigi.      "You were the first one to be kind to me, actually help me out." he sighed, picking up the reel again. "And now it's ruined."    No one had ever seen Luigi move so fast, diving to catch the reel before it could land in the fire. He clutched it to his chest as he took his seat again. "Gadd says we can rebuild." Luigi supplied. "We could make you a new studio, and I'd help with your movie again." He held out the reel. "Don't give up, Morty, please?"    Morty took the reel back. "Thank you, my young star." he said gratefully. "I think I will try again."    With the ghosts able to move swiftly and the ability to make materials float to reach high places, rebuilding didn't take long, only about a month. Morty entered the elevator with Luigi and reaching for the ninth floor button, hesitated.      "Go ahead," Luigi urged. Giving his friend a nod, the director tapped the button and the doors closed. It wasn't a moment later they swung open and Morty gasped softly as he floated out.    The studio had been not only restored, but improved. Rows of posters were proudly displayed in lit cases, with movie props placed around along with signs depicting what movies they were from. Going through the nearby double doors they entered a large sound stage. Boxes of props were set aside along with a fully restored miniature city laid out and glowing with tiny lights.      "We tried to get as much of it back as we could." Luigi explained. "And we even got you this."    He stepped aside and motioned to a director's chair and a brand new megaphone. Morty picked up the megaphone, running his fingers over the gold printing that had his name.      "Morty?" Luigi prompted, "Whadda ya say?"       "What do I say?" the ghost's reply was quiet at first. "Nothing I can say except..." he whipped around with a big smile. "Let's make a movie!"

   Planning to add in what film he had salvaged from the rubble, filming didn't take long and it was a week later Morty happily announced "Cut! That's a wrap!" to a series of cheers and applause. As Morty praised the crew and cast, Mario pulled Luigi aside.      "I'm proud of you, lil bro, you were great!"    Luigi turned a light pink. "Th-Thanks, Mario."    A gong rang out from nearby. Peach was holding the mallet and she smiled brightly. "There's a party ready and waiting in the ballroom!" she called to more cheers.    The party was a big one, heaps of good food and music and dancing led to laughter and plenty of talking. As the night wore on, Luigi noticed one was missing. Excusing himself he took the elevator back up to the ninth floor.    In the new editing room, Morty was quietly splicing in old footage with the fresh work. He looked up as Luigi lightly tapped on the door.      "Am I interrupting?" Luigi asked, his tone back to the shy young man who had first entered the studio during his adventure.      "Not at all, come in." Morty said warmly, indicating the chair beside him. Luigi took the seat and watched quietly as his friend resumed his work. After a while, Morty spoke.      "I didn't think you'd want to come back in here, after the last time." he said. Luigi was silent, remembering the fear as Serpci's poison crept through his veins and how he stumbled back to the elevator, only one thought on his mind.      "I feel safe here." he said softly. He then seemed to remember something. "Oh, I have something that I think is yours."    Reaching into the front pocket of his overalls, he pulled out something and handed it over. Morty gasped, eyes wide as he took the photo.      "I thought it was lost forever." he whispered, ghostly tears gathering in his eyes.      "You and your sister, right?" Luigi ventured to guess.   Morty sniffled, wiping at his eyes. "Yeah." The young man grew thoughtful as he watched Morty pin the photo back up. "Do you think when the movie's done, you'll move on?"    There was a pause. "I'm not sure. I'd like to see my sister again, I miss her every day. But this hotel, everything here, I feel like I've been given another life." He turned back around, smiling. "And I'd like to see where it goes."    Luigi smiled back. "Yeah, me too."    END      By "CC"

[random4townheadcanons]

Hcs on their birthdays and how would they celebrate?

4town member’s birthdays/how they celebrate headcanons!!

Idk if you wanted me to put what days their birthdays are but I’m doing it anyway lol. (These are just my personal hc’s for their birthdays and how old they are).

Also coincidentally, it was my birthday (December 4) when I started this lol

Robaire: August 8, 19 years old. Robaire’s birthday is towards the end of summer, and one of his favorite things to do when they have time is to go camping or have an outdoor adventure, so for his birthday he likes to spend the day somewhere really woodsy and pretty with the other members. Typically, he isn’t the one who chooses where they go for his birthday though. Usually they will tell him they’re going somewhere and have him get in the passenger’s seat of the car, and Jesse will drive them all to one of Robaire’s favorite places as a surprise. Tae will bake him a cake and they will get takeout from his favorite restaurant before they get there. When they get there, they will spend the entire day doing all of his favorite things like swimming, watching the sunset, and having a campfire. They take a lot of Polaroids of each other. Robaire takes a lot of the other members but then they force him to be in all the pictures so they take turns taking them. When they get back home, they will play board games and watch movies until they get too tired. Robaire always gets kind of emo at the end of the night and thanks them all for planning it out and caring so much and he gives them each a big hug.

Jesse: June 28, 26 years old. Jesse doesn’t really care or have any expectations for his birthday, but the other members make sure he has the best day he possibly could on his birthday. To play into the dad joke (but also just to be sweet), they all get up really early and make a super elaborate breakfast and then surprise him with breakfast in bed. But then he says “ok I’m not THAT old” and he gets up and goes to the table because he wants to eat breakfast with all of the other members. Then for dinner they get a booth at his favorite restaurant (it’s never fancy restaurants) and they talk and goof off the whole time. Later, they throw their own little nighttime pool party and Tae brings out the cake he made for Jesse (he does this on all of their birthdays) and they all sit on the edge of the pool and eat it, and everything is all lit up and pretty. After they digest their food they go swimming and hang out. After they’re all showered and dried off, they all snuggle up on the couch and watch his favorite movies (probably a Star Wars marathon lol). Jesse, like Robaire, gets kind of emo as they’re all laying on the couch because it feels like he is a child again, and he’s really grateful to be surrounded by his favorite people, and he lets them know that.

Tae Young - April 14, 18 years old. On the night before his birthday, after Tae goes to bed, the other members team up and bake the best cake they can possibly make. They’re all pretty good at baking, especially Robaire, so it always turns out good, and they are all really meticulous about decorating it, because they want it to be perfect since Tae isn’t baking a cake for his birthday. He typically doesn’t want to do anything huge for his birthday, so they usually kind of just stay at home and hang out at the pool and get takeout from his favorite restaurant for dinner, then eat the cake. Afterwards, when it’s dark out, they all get in the car. T is the one driving which is kind of rare, usually when they’re all going somewhere Robaire or Jesse are the ones who drive, but they want it to be more fun and memorable, so they let T drive and Tae sit in the passenger’s seat, which is a combination that is not usually allowed. They don’t go anywhere in particular, they will just drive for like an hour and get ice cream from a drive-thru and talk and laugh and blast Tae’s favorite music the whole time. Later, they have a Harry Potter movie marathon and eat a bunch of Harry Potter themed snacks (modern universe). Tae thanks them for everything and gives them all hugs, then they likely end up falling asleep on the couch.

Aaron T - October 1st, 19 years old. T, like Jesse, never expects much for his birthday because he is always thinking so much more about the other members than himself that he almost forgets about his birthday. Z is usually the main planner for T’s birthday because he practically knows him better than T knows himself. T will wake up and go to the kitchen and they’ll tell him to get ready, so he will, and then they get in the car and surprise him by taking him to the beach. He gets really excited but he’s not dressed for the occasion. Luckily, they packed a bunch of stuff for him including swim trunks. Then they spend the whole day swimming and picnicking and watching the sunset. When it gets dark, they have a bonfire. Then they drive home and get his favorite takeout. After they eat, they’ll take him to the skate park and cheer him on like proud moms and they make him show them all of the tricks he’s learned recently. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside because of how much they appreciate him. Then on the car ride home he’s smiling and leaning on Z’s shoulder and thinking about everything they did that day. When they get home, T goes to take a shower and while he’s in the bathroom they make an impressive, gigantic pillow fort and they all put on their matching pjs (the ones I talked about with the t shirts with cute personalized graphics, fuzzy shorts all in pastel versions of each of their favorite colors, and socks) and they lay his out in his room. When he gets out of the shower, he sees them all waiting for him in the pillow fort with their matching pjs so he excitedly runs to his room and puts his matching pjs on too. They eat the cake Tae made in the pillow fort and play video games and watch movies (some horror ones because his birthday is during spooky season) all night long, and T gushes about how grateful he is to have them as friends and immediately he’s in the center of a super tight group hug around him.

Aaron Z - November 10, 19 years old. Z never wants to do anything crazy or specific for his birthday, the only thing he needs is to be surrounded with his best friends, which is never something he needs to worry about. Even though Z never has high expectations for his birthday, T always makes a plan for his birthday to be perfect, which the other members help him come up with. When he gets up in the morning, he never expects a fuss to be made about his birthday, but then when he walks into the kitchen they all yell “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” And he sees a heaping pile of presents on the table and he can feel his heart grow three sizes. All of his presents were really sentimental and heartfelt and it always makes him get a small lump in his throat when he sees how much everyone really cares for him and how they know him so well. They surprise him to take him to the movie theatre, which they rented out just for him, and they watch his favorite movie and get all of his favorite candies and snacks. It kind of shocks him to see how much effort they put into his birthday and it makes him feel really appreciated. Like with the other members, they get his favorite takeout and when they get home, set up blankets in the backyard, and Tae will bring out the cake and they all eat it and look up at the stars and talk the whole time. They always get him a bunch of new video games, so him and T will play them while the other members attentively watch and cheer them on. After they’re done playing video games, they put on one of Z’s comfort movies and snuggle up on the couch, and Z goes on his whole “I love you guys” ramble, and, just like with the other members, he gets bear hugged by all of them. It’s practically unspoken that he will sleep in T’s room especially since its his birthday, so when it’s bedtime, Z will continue his “I love you” ramble to T about how grateful he is for making his birthday perfect and how glad he is to have him as a friend and blah blah blah, which makes T smile and pull him into a hug.

I hope you like these :)

Keep sending requests!!

[lune-hime]

I just love your writing and have been reading a lot of your stuff these past few days. I really enjoyed how you wrote Logan Howletts character, you did an amazing job. I think of those two stories you wrote as connected, and seeing that your requests are open, could you write possibly how they meet or moments in their relationship? Whatever comes to mind.

Hope your well and enjoy writing this if you decide to take it. ❤️

It makes me so incredibly happy that you have been loving my stories and my portrayal of Logan :’). Logan and reader’s first meeting had been previously requested so I went with a few moments in their relationship. Thank you for being patient with me in posting this, I hope you enjoy and that you are doing well <3. 

↞↠↞↠↞↠

A Second-First Meeting

“You’re Logan.” Storm let out a melodic chuckle, her realization breaking the silence within the jet.

“Uh...yeah.” He said with a quirked brow. The ivory haired woman’s jaw went slack and another giddy laugh erupted from her. Logan's eyes darted from the oddly acting woman to Rogue who only shrugged, looking just as confused as he was.

“Logan from Canada.” She stated in semi-awe, looking him up and down as if comparing him to information she already had. It made Logan feel like he was missing something.

“He looks dirtier than she described.” Scott let out a snarky huff from the pilot’s seat.

“Okay, what is this?” Logan rose his voice to just below a growl, irritation evident in his tone. Storm put her hands up in harmless defense.

“You met Y/N in the summer. Saved her from becoming a prune all alone in the woods, remember?” Storm said and beamed brightly. Logan’s eyes widened as the memory came flooding back. The bears, the beautiful girl, the thunderous storm and her lightening energy.

“You know Y/N?” He said in disbelief.

“Know her? She’s my best friend.” Storm giggled. “She told us all about you; how she fended off that bear but didn’t have to fend you off when you guys huddled up in your car.”

Storm winked at him as he narrowed his eyes at her teasing. Rogue let out a little giggle of her own at Logan’s speechlessness.

“We’re landing.” Scott announced as everyone began feeling their smooth decrease in altitude.

“All jokes aside, thanks for looking out for her.” Storm added with a kind smile before she swiveled in her copilot’s seat to help Scott with their descent.

⇷⛒⇸

“Hey, kid, is Y/N here?” Logan asked the child in front of him. He found himself on the precipice of a new life it seems, but more literally on the precipice of the lounge area in Xavier's Mansion. He was exhausted after an abrupt and confusing flight from his little slice of Alberta to New York. His head was spinning from all of the information about Mutant Brotherhoods and Striker that was just laid upon him. And now the remembrance of the girl caught in the rain who had once told him she lived at this very school.  

“Ms. Y/N? Yeah she lives here.” The child said nonchalantly. Each time he blinked, a new channel would appear on the almost theatre sized TV. “She sometimes teaches my kinetics training.”

Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Relief washed over him that he would have at least one familiar face here.

“Where can I find her?” He asked the boy who still hadn’t taken his gaze away from the television. He briefly paused on the Disney channel before continuing his search.

“Why would I know? I’ve been watching TV all morning.” The kid huffed as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. Logan grumbled and sauntered out of the room and back into the many mahogany halls of the massive building.

As he neared the large eastern courtyard, he caught a glimpse of just the woman he was looking for. Through the immaculately planted dormant shrubs he observed you standing next to an ornate fountain chatting with a girl who looked to be around middle school age. He felt that same energizing hum in his chest as he did a few months ago when he took in your appearance. The way you smiled so sweetly at the student, the way your hair was gently pulled from your face by the brisk winter wind, in how your legs bobbed back and forth in place as they fended off the early afternoon chill. He waited for you to finish your conversation with the child before he made his presence known.

“Y/N?” He called tentatively as he eased his way between the garden boughs. You looked up towards the direction of your summon. When you saw who it was, your eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Logan!” You chirped and jogged over to him. “How was the flight?”

“You knew I was coming?” He asked, surprised at the lack of surprise in your reaction.

“I did.” You answered with a guilty smile. “I’m a part of the team now too so I was there when Charles made the call to find you.”

Logan’s mind tried to connect the dots between the sweet yet snappy, soaked girl he met before to the cleaned up, self assured one standing before him. He pictured you using your abilities to fight opponents rather than bears and guessed you would be goddamned good at it with sparks like yours.

“I’m really glad he did…” You trailed off with the beginnings of a goofy grin. “That he found you and brought you here of course, not that you’re being targeted by the Brotherhood-”

“It’s good to see you again.” He confessed, his honeyed voice coating your rambling and effectively adding to the chilly redness of your cheeks.

“You too.” You replied softly, trying not to ogle at his casual attire of heather gray sweatshirt and joggers.

“I think you owe me, though. I gave you a free ride back then.” He declared with a smirk.

“Fine, do you need a ride to the nearest tractor supply for a new wardrobe?” You quipped back. Logan let his half smile bloom into a full crescent moon.

“Sure, if I can take you out for a drink after.” He proposed with a look that made you feel like the New England snow had suddenly melted around you and you were now in a humid jungle.

“Well, I did have another date tonight…” You began, looking up at the taller man through your lashes. If you hadn’t already been looking at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the minute clench of his jaw.

“Buuuut, I don’t think he would be able to handle being accidentally zapped as well as you would.” You continued playfully. Your suitor paled in any comparison to the old acquaintance that had just arrived at your doorstep. The amusement in your eyes was contagious, spreading to Logan’s forested green orbs and down to his boyish grin.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Firelight

You hummed in utter bliss. The warmth of the campfire kissed your bare legs as your tired eyes gazed upon the moon basked lake in front of you. You nuzzled deeper into the crook of Logan’s neck as the crickets and the treefrogs serenaded you with a private summer evening concert.

Logan’s hand lazily ran the expanse of your hip and thigh from your position curled across him in the camping chair. He was about to close his eyes in complete relaxation when a boisterous banging erupted from one of the cabins in your section of the campground. The clanging was followed by a teenage chorus of muffled curses and cackles. The two of you had volunteered to be counselors of sorts on this weeklong camping trip Charles held for his beloved students each summer.  Logan groaned at the disturbance, slightly annoyed with your rowdy group of students.

“They’re just having fun. As long as no one comes out on fire or with a leg missing it's fine.” You spoke up, tone laced with amusement. “Admit you love them-and spending quality time with them out here.” 

You felt Logan huff against you at your wholesome accusation. 

“I love being out here in the woods, with you.” 

Logan’s answer wasn’t to your satisfaction. You zapped him gently with a single crackle of your energy just beneath the rib cage.  When he jolted from the surprise attack, you folded yourself to him so that you were now straddling his lap. 

“Sure. Not like I saw you earlier spending an hour teaching Rogue how to fish properly after she got her line all strung up in the nearest tree. Or how you, willingly I might add, played hide and seek with the younger ones when you were supposed to be taking a break. Or when-” 

You rambled off his sweet acts in adoration until he leaned up to press his lips to yours. You sunk into his embrace and sighed at the euphoric feeling. 

“Alright, alright. You’ve proved your point.” He grumbled half heartedly. In the fading natural light, you could see the lazy smile that adorned his face had become dusted with your lip gloss. You returned his response with a triumphant grin as he gingerly grasped the back of your head and pulled you to him once more. His heated palms sailed over your curves like a forest fire as your kisses deepened. You let out a small moan when he discretely bucked his hips into yours. 

Or, what the two of you had thought was discrete. 

“Gross. I’m just trying to get to the bathroom.” Bobby complained with a grimace as he walked by the two of you towards the community restrooms. You let out a chuckle as Logan brought his fist up to Bobby’s line of vision, a single adamantium claw extending to flip the younger man off against the firelight. 

[uppermocns-moved]

if you’re taking requests maybe roadtrips with eren, jean, armin and connie?

road trips

oh my god this is the greatest idea i’ve ever heard. 

eren, jean, armin, connie + road trips

(going on a road trip with all four of them at the end)

cw: fairly gender-neutral, modernverse, weed references

𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻 𝗷𝗮𝗲𝗴𝗲𝗿

eren insists on driving the whole time, no matter how long the trip is.

his phone is plugged into the aux because “my car, my rules” but he doesn’t complain when you unlock his phone and start picking songs. 

forcing him to pull into a drive-through so he can eat real food, not just the 44 oz of mountain dew and monster energy he got from the gas station before you left.

hand-feeding him french fries.

playing i spy when it’s too dark to see anything, or on long highway stretches where the scenery doesn’t change. 

“i spy... something blue.” “is it the sky?” “you’re so good at this, babe.”

it’s very easy to talk him into impulsive detours, even if they’re in the opposite direction – he may be the one driving, but he’s relying solely on you for instructions. just tell him where you’re going and he’ll take you there.

“___ is only a two hour drive from here! we should go!” “yeah? okay.” 

driving with the windows down and enjoying the cool nighttime air.

car-camping in national parks – putting the seats down in the back and throwing together your bed for the night, sitting on the hood of his car to look at the stars with no light pollution, getting baked and watching a dumb show off his phone before going to sleep. 

at this point, eren realizes he forgot to pack his phone charger so you’ve gotta share.

getting breakfast together. eren’s not a morning person, but he can’t be grumpy when you’re looking so cute and sleepy in one of his hoodies. 

eren driving with one hand on the wheel and the other holding yours, occasionally lifting it up for a kiss as a silent thank you for being there with him. as if you’d dream of being anywhere else. 

𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗸𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗶𝗻

listening to the radio to keep things spontaneous, usually the classic rock stations. 

jean taking his hands off the wheel because he needs to air-bass along.

listening to true crime podcasts when the radio cuts out – it’s funny watching jean’s face twist up in disgust during crime scene details, and sometimes he yells in response as if the podcasters can hear him. you also play detective about who you think did it – loser buys food at the next stop. 

music keeps things energetic at the start, but podcasts keep his mind stimulated when he’s been driving for a while. 

the original plan is to split the driving, but you end up falling asleep with your face smushed against the window and jean doesn’t have the heart to wake you up. he doesn’t mind driving the rest of the way.

stopping for food every couple of hours to make sure you’re both eating properly, not just snacks. you do have plenty of snacks, though. 

jean going "uh – excuse me” whenever you open a bag of something and sticking his hand out. he’s like a dad, he always needs a handful of whatever you’re having. sharing is caring. 

jean always packs a lot of unnecessary things, and he will reserve the right to say i told you so when his double-hammock comes in handy.

limited stops along the way (minus food/gas/bathroom) – getting there relatively early means you can relax in the hotel room and maybe explore/go out for dinner later that night.  

when you take over driving, jean is a big window-watcher and takes a lot of pictures of the mountains/scenery. 

already making plans on cool things you can do on the way back, when you have no time restraints – day trips, scenic rest stops, hikes, etc. 

𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘁

stopping at a starbucks first-thing to get drinks for the road (he makes sure to get some food too so you’re not just running off a venti iced coffee)

splitting the driving – armin is the better (and calmer) navigator so you usually take the first and final shift. 

dozens of cute polaroids to put in your adventure scrapbook

researches fun (and romantic) things you can do when you get to your destination and reads them aloud to you. you come up with a plan together. that waterfall hike sounded really fun. 

armin takes lots of videos because he likes making little montages for his socials

you’re in control of the music. armin likes when you show him new artists – he’ll slowly nod his head along and inevitably add the songs to his spotify. he really likes snail mail. 

he takes over driving when you get tired – he likes holding your hand when he drives, or sometimes you’ll lean over and rest your hand on his thigh.

armin trying not to melt when you put on one of his hoodies for warmth – you have your own, but his are comfier and they smell like him. 

silly games to pass time like i spy or looking for different license plates. it’s fun until armin gets clever and spies things like the mile marker from 10 miles back. 

you insist you aren’t going to fall asleep because you wanna keep him company, but you end up curling into your pillow and dozing off mid-conversation. it’s adorable, and he doesn’t mind. he’ll usually turn on a podcast or an audiobook. 

armin stays awake the whole time but it catches up with him once you reach your destination – all he wants to do is cuddle and rest up

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿

leaving a day in advance or very early in the morning because you stop at every tourist attraction along the way.

scenic lookout? let’s go there. world’s biggest ball of yarn? fuck, count me in. meteor craters? already merging onto the exit. dinosaur bones? you read my mind. 

picking up cool souvenirs along the way like geodes and stickers to put on his water bottle. maybe a funky lil alien to hang from the rearview mirror, along with his 20 tree air fresheners. 

taking cute, cheesy pictures of and with each other – connie posing with his arms out like he’s holding the mountain, standing in front of national park signs, etc. 

you collaborated on a road-trip playlist in advance (it’s 12 hours long)

somehow you end up listening to veggie tales or absolutely losing it until the car starts rocking to britney spears

"i love this song” to every song, as if he didn’t put it on the playlist 

listening to connie sing along and butcher all the lyrics. impressive falsetto, though. 

arsenal of snacks – more than you realistically need

screaming every time you see a new “welcome to ___” sign

“WELCOME TO ___!” “WOOOOOO!”

connie rocking the socks with slides. it’s comfortable. 

pulling through drive throughs every once in a while for food, continuously forgetting to throw out the trash bag from your last stop. 

𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝗿𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺

stopping at the gas station to fill up the gas tank and stock up on snacks for the road – almost everything from the candy aisle, giant bags of doritos, slushies, energy drinks. nobody really thinks to get actual food.

the driving is split between eren “i’m serious, pull the fucking car over or i’m gonna piss myself, jean” jaeger and jean “eren stop honking my fucking horn, traffic won’t go any faster” kirstein. armin is the navigator because they’ll both get everyone lost.

everyone has their turn with the aux cord – until connie cracks himself up playing the same song over and over, then you have to pry it from eren’s cold, dead hands.

so many pictures

impulsive stops at tourist attractions.

playing dumb games to pass the time (quickly turns into replacing one word on each sign with “poop” because they’re all a bunch of children).

finally stopping at a diner later that night for real food

making it to the campsite and setting up tents and hammocks

getting baked around the campfire and telling spooky stories

connie complaining and scaring himself while he wanders off into the dark forest to find a spot to piss

smores (ofc)

going on group hikes and jumping into lakes/down waterfalls together. video of jean belly-flopping.

[chiwhorei]

green scrunchies

pairing: dom!k. ukai x sub!fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, spanking, smoking, daddy kink, dom/ sub dynamics, brat taming, subspace, dirty talk, degradation, age gap(reader is 22ish and ukai is 26ish) spitting, fingering, oral (fem receiving), edging, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, a little dumification, public nudity (kinda), unprotected sex, tattoos (there’s a tattoo in a really unholy place), this is just filth okay

a/n: i have been sitting on the bulk of this piece for a fucking month and am honestly so surprised i finished it. this was inspired by a picture i saw of a really naughty tattoo and my mind want crazy and vomited on to a google doc.

hymn: nothing’s gonna hurt you baby by cigarettes after sex

“but today isn’t a day of honey-sweet ministrations.”

Ukai Keishin is a gentle man. The team of highschoolers he coaches, his friends, hell, even his mother would beg to differ. But they were not privy to the Keishin you know. The man that serenades you with Elvis Presley while cleaning up after closing the store, grabbing your waist and pulling you into a clumsy slow dance as his gravelly voice croons into your ear. 

He’s entrancing. Hypnotizing you, almost two years ago now, in the most tender pursuit possible, so softly you were unaware of falling deeply in love with him until you had already tipped completely over. Turning to an ink pen and scraps of receipt paper to flesh out the feelings he worried would not sound perfect when they hit your ears. To this day, you’re not entirely sure if he meant to leave the pages to his extemporaneous romance novel for you to find on purpose, but you have your suspicions.

You were in your second year of college when you met Keishin, only 20 years old at the time and clueless to any world outside of studying frantically from one exam to the next. Chasing after a degree you could pursue your dreams with and getting tattoos that would piss your parents off, you crashed into him, literally. 

While walking to class with practiced steps and flipping through a small stack of notecards, you frantically try to accomplish last minute cramming and making it to class promptly at the same time. With one final attempt to understand the scribbles in front of you, you take a sharp turn into a brick wall. A flurry of white papers thrown into the air and falling back down like snow.

It happened in a minute, a minute that held sixty of the longest seconds to ever pass; from the moment you smack your nose into his cemented chest to the moment he saves your head from kissing the ground below. “You need to watch where you’re going, kid.” He says with a cigarette pressed between his teeth. It all happened in that single minute, your soul escaping and crawling into his jacket pocket without even realizing. It’s been there ever since, for safekeeping, of course.

He’s perfect in every way. But just as he is soft and loving, Ukai is not one to take shit. Especially when his sweet, shy baby girl is being a raging brat. It’s like any normal fall afternoon, slightly chilly and crisp on your walk from class. The air is biting at your skin, but the temperature is not what sends a piercing shiver down your spine. You know that as soon as you get home, Ukai Keishin is going to ruin you. 

“What are you doing here, princess?” Your presence is made known with a soft ding from the bell above the door, but Ukai doesn't look up from his magazine when acknowledging you. 

“I live upstairs?” Your tone is light and playful. You decide to test the waters, wondering how much Keishin will let slide today.

“Don’t be dense, little one.” He graces you with his eye contact for the first time, “I know you have a Biology lecture on Friday afternoons. So, why is that cute little ass here instead of on campus?” His lips are pulled tightly in a thin line and he rakes his eyes down your body. You’re wearing a short pleated skirt and a baggie pull-over. Exactly what he picked out for you this morning. Well, almost exactly. He was already opening up the store by the time you woke up, so the clothes were placed neatly on his side of the bed. What he didn’t pick out though, were the stockings currently brandishing your mid thigh, cutting off the supple skin with the soft, black cotton. 

“Oh! My professor cancelled lecture today so I came home early to have lunch with my loving boyfriend.” You smile sweetly, dropping your backpack and rounding the corner of the counter he is sat at. Ukai hums softly- dismissively- and lights a cigarette, his eyes don’t give away any emotion, so you are left hanging off the end of the burning cherry. Has he caught on yet? Maybe the thigh-highs would be enough to distract from your real surprise. 

Before you can ruminate on the thought, a wide, kind smile spreads across his face. If you didn’t know any better, this smile would be comforting. Your boyfriend pats his lap, motioning for you to take a seat. You adjust yourself to fit snugly and lean into Keishin’s chest. He presses a chaste kiss to your temple and takes a drag from his cigarette. Customers trickle in slowly, and you stand a few times to ring up their purchases, always the dutiful girlfriend. Keishin watches you with adoration in between paging through a magazine, everything you did was so perfect, even if it’s just scanning a few groceries. Such a good girl you are. 

It’s not until you sit back down, and he adjusts your hips to settle back into him that he is made aware of the game you’re trying to play. And he is pissed.

“Princess, did you not like the clothes I picked out for you this morning?” He has fully caught on to you at this point, and you both know it, but he isn’t going to show you his hand quite yet. 

“Of course I did, Daddy.” You bury your burning cheek into his neck, letting the familiar smell of cologne and campfires calm your clambering heartbeat. 

“I see, then why are you wearing these…” Keishin’s voice trails off and pulls at the material of the thigh-highs, snapping it against your skin.  

“Actually,” he interrupts, “I have a more important question. But I need you to be a good girl and answer honestly.” Keishin whispers into the shell of your ear and nods a goodbye to the elderly man leaving the store. You two were alone now, the promise of other customers wandering in diminishing quickly with the time of day. 

“I’ll be a good girl Daddy.” You try to coat your words in velvet as best as you can, but Keishin scoffs, clearly unamused. 

“That’s rich, princess. Now tell me, did you go to campus this morning without panties on?” You knew the question he was going to pose, you could have even saved him the breath. You knew you were going to get caught, I mean, that is why you did it. But now, faced with having to atone for your sins, the confidence in your original actions was melting away. 

“I forgot to put panties on this morning, Daddy. I’m sorry.” You try to pout in the sweetest way possible, but Keishin knows. You’re lying through your teeth.

“Tsk, you forgot. How could you forget if I laid them right on top of your skirt this morning?” He fishes in his pocket and pulls out a damning article. As he moves the exhibit into evidence, light pink thong hanging off of fingers, you resolve that your little game was over long before you even tried to start. All you can do now is wait with baited breath and flushed cheeks for his next move. 

“Stand up princess.” Ukai grabs onto your hip bones and lifts you upward. He spins you around to face him and perches his elbows on his knees. “Show me what’s mine baby girl.” His request, his demand, rolls off the tongue like icicles. You know what he means, but still stare back dumbly, mouth wide at what he was insinuating.

“You know I don’t like repeating myself, little girl.” His words stir inside you. If he sees how wet you’re getting, you’re done for. There’s no escaping this moment though. You take a deep breath in a feeble fight against the suffocating feeling in your chest, and lift up the end of your short, black skirt so he can see you. All of you.

Your precious, sumptuous thighs now in his view. He studies the lines of the tattoos not covered with your stockings. Beautiful floral designs in delicate black ink. Keishin thinks the work you get done is always so beautiful. Every addition befitting you perfectly. He loves tracing the pads of his fingers over the art in softer moments. This moment though, was not soft, and the tattoos on your thighs were not the subject of Ukai’s attention. 

He flicks his eyes up to meet yours briefly, and trails down from your quivering bottom lip, to your delicate, freckled collarbones peering sweetly from your large sweater. He drags his darkening gaze down further, cherishing every inch until he reaches your hips. Nestled in between the apex of your thighs, in small, dainty writing lays his prize.

“My Daddy Will Kill You.”

No matter what you did, he would always be there, snugly under the second layer of skin. When his fingers weren’t intertwined in yours, when he couldn’t have a protective hand in your back pocket. Whenever he was away with his team for tournaments or just when you were in class. He was always on you.

“Such a gorgeous little cunt you have.” He leans back in his seat, watching you fidget under his stare, “Whose cunt is this, baby? Is it your classmates? Is it your professors?” You bow your head in shame at Ukai’s insinuation, you know that going to class with a bare ass and a short skirt was going to get you in trouble. How could you resist though, when the punishment always feels so good.

“You’ve been acting like a petulant brat recently. I’ve been letting things slide because I know how stressful your senior year of college has been.” His tone is exasperated, but his eyes are calm, level, dark, “I can’t ignore this, you know that right?”

“I know, Daddy.”

“Your class was cancelled. So that means we get to start the weekend early.” He pulls your hands from your skirt, letting it fall back into place and holds both of your hands in one of his much larger ones. “Go upstairs and sit on the bed. I want you in just your skirt and those cute little tights you were so keen on wearing. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” 

“But Daddy…” you really did like to test your luck sometimes, but the look he gives you, slightly shocked and more than lightly infuriated, was enough to make you hurry to the back and up the stairs to your shared apartment. You kick your sneakers off at the door and head straight to the bedroom. You pull the sweater over your head and unclasp your bra. Usually Keishin likes to do that step for you, savoring the way you shiver as he brushes the straps off of your shoulders, but today isn’t a day of honey-sweet ministrations. 

You tremble like a puppy as you wait for Ukai and almost jump out of your own skin when you hear the front door creek open. Usually you are met with a bellowing voice upon his entry, walking through the door with a hearty, “Honey, I’m home!” even if you had only walked in a few steps ahead. Now, all you can do is wait as he mulls about the apartment with lackadaisical intent and a deafening silence. After a few agonizing minutes and feeling like he made his point, Ukai finally appears in the doorway, arms folded and pressed tightly to his hard chest with a categorically sadistic smile on his face.

“So, you do know how to follow directions?” You gulp loudly and nod your head, but quickly correct yourself. If you don’t use your words you’ll make things worse for yourself. “Yes, Daddy. I know how to follow directions.” It’s not a lie, obviously you are aware of his rules, you just prefer breaking them. Your response is small compared to the loud, sarcastic laugh falling from his throat. Ukai steps towards you slowly. 

“You are such a little tease, I came up to kiss you goodbye this morning and found these still sitting on the bed.” He pulls the thong out of his pocket again and drops the lace into your lap. “You left them there because you wanted me to find them. You wanted me to know you were sitting in class with a bare cunt.” There’s no use trying to find an excuse to push past your locked jaw, because he’s not really asking a question. 

“I left them on purpose, Daddy. I’m sorry.” Your mea culpa is underwhelming to say the least, and you both know it. You may be pleading guilty to all charges, but you don’t seem eager for absolution. 

“You are such a little attention whore. My timid, darling girl has been acting like an insolent slut recently. What am I going to do with you?” His voice sounds questioning, but unmistakingly rhetorical. He’s known what he was going to do to you from the moment he spotted your panties weighing the bed down this morning.

“Turn around baby.” Ukai unbuckles his belt, and you turn away from him, tucking your legs to sit upright. He gathers your long h/c hair from where it was settled around your face and meticulously braids it to lay flat on your back, attaching the green scrunchy from his wrist to the bottom. 

Just like a calling card, Keishin always had a scrunchy of yours around his wrist. Whenever you are hunched over the kitchen table in the middle of writing a paper, he pulls your hair behind you and fastens it into a bun, careful to keep it loose so as to not invite a headache, and kisses the crown of your head. Regardless of where you are: shopping, date night, visiting him at practice, if he notices your hair becoming annoying he will slip it from your neck and twist it into the green scrunchy.

And when you are about to be punished, Ukai pulls your hair into a neat, low braid.

You feel him run his hands from your shoulders to your wrists, pulling them gently behind your back. He presses your palms together and gives them a squeeze so you know to keep them together. Ukai pulls off his shirt, and  frees his undone belt from his jeans, folding it in half and running the cool leather up your thigh. He swats softly at your skin, just enough to make you flinch. 

Ukai tosses the belt to the ground, deciding he would rather you feel the sting of his palm, and sits down next to you on the bed. You face him with your hands still laced together behind you and let him position you to lay across his lap. The side of your face and your shoulders lay flush against the bed and your ass is raised up above his jean-clad thighs. 

“You know the rules, right my love?”

“Yes, Daddy. If I lose count you have to start over.”

“There’s my smart girl. You look so beautiful like this.” He lands a smack on your right cheek, actions greatly contrasting his soft, almost taunting tone. “It’s such a shame you’ve been acting like such a whore.” 

He delivers slap after slap on your bruising ass and you count every one out to him, briefly considering what would happen if you stopped counting, but you know that your punishment is already going to be harsh enough. You’re a masochist, yes, but not an idiot. 

“Why do you always seem to be on your best behavior when I have you over my knee, darling?” Ukai connects his palm with your tender flesh again. “How many was that baby?” 

“Fifteen, Daddy.” You speak in an even tone, if your boyfriend catches on to how much more you like this than he already knows, you’re, quite literally, fucked. 

“You really know how to play me, baby. I’m always wrapped around your little finger.” He starts to knead your ass cheek with his large hand, skimming the tips of his digits against your wanton cunt. He’s testing you, wanting to see if you’ll start squirming or unclasp your hands from their position behind your back, but you hold steady.

“You leave me naughty little surprises. I had you on my mind all day, thinking about this naked little pussy walking around campus. One tiny slip and you would have shown everyone what’s mine.” Another sharp swat to your butt reverberates through the room and you can barely mumble out your counted response. 

“But that’s what you wanted isn’t it? You wanted everyone to see this slutty pussy of yours didn’t you?” Whether that was the truth or not doesn't actually matter, you know not to make an excuse. You are just meant to count and thank. 

“You need to stop squirming, princess, or you’re going to royally piss me off.” Ukai continues his relentless pace, two thick fingers pistoning deep in your dripping pussy. This was one of Ukai’s favorite games, finger-fucking you to the point of the bed under you slamming into the wall. Your job was to keep completely still. One arch of your back or escaped moan and he would land a sharp slap to your puffy, untended clit. 

He’s actually being quite generous despite the circumstances. Usually, you would be propped on your hands and knees, but Ukai has laid you flat on your back with one leg tossed over his broad shoulder. The position, while easier to keep your body still, does mean that Ukai’s piercing, hungry gaze has you pinned like prey under him. The completely pornografic sounds of his fingers are making your head spin. The fact that he’s been hammering his fingers relentlessly into your g-spot for an hour, is starting to make your mind foggy, all thoughts are starting to slip from your brain and your boyfriend can tell.

“God, baby, I love making you absolutely stupid for me. I bet all you can think about is my cock filling this little cunt up, huh?” His words are sneering, taunting. Your response is a babbled agreement and plea for his cock, and the sight of you so completely fucked out makes the bulge in his jeans strain even further. The feeling of his fingers in your squelching pussy is dulling all other senses, so when he pulls the digits away, you can’t help the cry that rips from the back of your throat. 

“Don’t worry, precious girl, I’m going to give you what you want. What you’re fucking desperate for.” Ukai pushes himself from the bed and removes his jeans and boxers, and you watch as his thick cock springs free to slap against his abdomen. The sound makes you mewl, your cunt clenching in anticipation. 

As Ukai crawls back onto your shared bed, his head dips down in between your legs. He licks, flat and languid across your slit, collecting your arousal on his tongue with a feral groan.

“Please, Daddy. Please fuck me. I- I need you. Wa- want to be your good girl.” You find your words as best as you can to beg for him, the sweet cadence of your voice and the way your weak arms reach out for his messy bleached hair signals to him that you’ve fallen completely into a foggy, submissive haze. You tug lightly at the tresses and the impressive self-control he has kept up thus far snaps like plywood under a heavy boot. 

Ukai takes one more deep, hungry lick at your soaking pussy and sits up, pushing your legs further apart, digging his nails into the soft skin under your knees. 

“Open your mouth, Princess.” You are quick to comply with his request, sticking your tongue out and looking up at him through your lashes. You hear the sound of him spitting, his saliva and your arousal coats the thickest plane of your tongue, but connecting one thought to the next becomes impossible as Ukai pushes his thick cock into you at the same time.

“Jesus Christ, no matter how much time I take to get you ready you’re still so tight. God, you make it really hard to stay mad at you.” His hands keep your legs pressed up to your chest, pushing his thick cock into you at an agonizingly lazy pace. Ukai was right, it didn’t matter that he had finger-fucked you into the mattress for an hour, taking him was a tight fit every time. As he buries himself in you, the intoxicating burn of being so full takes all of the air out of your chest. His thick cock stretches you so far, you swear he can feel your own heartbeat within the walls of your tiny cunt. He’s barely halfway into you and you can’t help but constrict, the tinny flavor of your orgasm crawling up from your spine to your mouth. 

“There’s no way I’m letting you cum already.” Ukai snickered sadistically, thumb brushing across your tattoo, the dirty secret you shared, right over where you need his fingers most. He wasn’t going to touch your deprived clit yet, and hoping for him to do so was a waste of energy. 

“I’m sorry Daddy. I promise, I’ll be good.” Your tears are rolling down the side of your face, wetting the sheet next to you. 

“You’re a pathetic mess and I’m not even all the way in you yet. I would save the tears if I were you, babydoll.” You try to compose yourself, but Ukai’s words of dismissive degradation give your whimpers more body, sobbing and babbling as his cock bottoms out. 

You can feel every inch of him, hard and thick and so so full inside of you. Ukai pulls out of you completely, his soaking tip rubbing on your labia before slamming back in to the hilt. His pace becomes brutal with every thrust, original slow pace completely unknown to you now. There’s no way you're going to be able to stand properly after this. 

“Daddy, please. Please let me cum. Need to cum, Daddy. Need to be your good girl.” A series of calls for your daddy and prayerful begs are the only things you know at this point, drool and tears covering your face.

“You know what, Princess? I bet I could make you cum with just one touch to that little clit.” Ukai takes one hand off of your thigh and hovers over where you have needed him since you woke up this morning. “If I’m right, I’ll make you cum again. If I’m wrong, you’re not gonna cum at all.”

You can feel the warmth of his finger looming over the neglected bud, the anticipation is overwhelming and cruel, but all worth it as soon as he pushes the rough pad of his thumb down. Ukai presses a single, taught circle into your clit and the coil wound tightly in your stomach snaps with incredible force. You know there is a scream that rips from your dry mouth, but you can’t hear it with the blood rushing through your ears. Ukai works you through your first orgasm, stilling his thrusts as until you come floating back down.

“I know this slutty little cunt better than the back of my hand. Now, my precious little thing,” You watch as Ukai hooks your limp legs over his shoulders, lining his throbbing cock back to your slopping entrance. “Let’s do that a couple more times.”

“Wise men say, only fools rush in. But I can’t help, falling in love with you.”

You feel your senses coming back to you slowly, with every delicate touch Keishin glides over your skin. He pulls you back to reality with sweet touches and the deep, gravely sound of his voice. After several meticulous moments and even more words of praise, Kei delivers a delicate kiss to your forehead and carries you to the shower. You take a deep, relaxed sigh as he massages your aching muscles under the hot water. After drying your exhausted body with a fluffy towel, Keishin helps you into a comfy pair of leggings and one of his sweatshirts. 

“Take my hand. Take my whole heart too.” Your boyfriend’s broad arms wrap around your waist, hands finding purchase under the orange sweatshirt currently drowning your form, and you melt into his chest. “Because I can’t help, falling in love with you.” You turn around in his arms to steal a kiss, but as your lips attach to his a small laugh bubbles up from your stomach. 

“What are you giggling at?” Keishin eyes you curiously, and you start laughing even harder.

“Oh nothing, I was just thinking about the bloody nose you gave me when we first met.” You cackle at the memory and feel Keishin take an exasperated but amused sigh, joining your laughter with his own.

“First of all, Princess, you ran into me.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[valdomarx]

The first time Geralt thinks about kissing Jaskier is in a packed, seedy tavern. The patrons are rowdy, the ale is watery, and the air is damp and sweaty. And yet, there’s Jaskier, joyously commanding the entire room as he performs, winking at audience members as he swans gracefully between the tables.

His hips sway to the beat of the music and his feet bounce across the floor, full of irrepressible energy. As he segues from one verse to the next, he pauses for a second and licks his lips. Geralt follows the movement precisely, entranced as the pink tip of his tongue flicks across plump, plush lips.

He’s hit by the urge to take Jaskier into his arms and press their lips together, to kiss him firm and deep and to feel that tongue playing into his mouth. He can almost picture it: Jaskier’s eyes widening at first and then crinkling with satisfaction, the little hitch of his breath, the softness of those lips against his own.

Coming back to himself, Geralt shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He has no idea where that strange thought came from. Best to put it aside and ignore it.

.

The next time it happens, the air is clear and there are stars overhead. It’s a warm Beltane evening and the local villagers are celebrating with wine and music and dancing. Geralt sits on a bench and observes while Jaskier, who has yellow flowers braided into his hair, dances around a maypole with a bright red ribbon in hand.

There’s a moment when he looks up and catches Geralt’s eye, and the tiniest smile flicks across his lips. It’s not one of his big, crowd-pleasing grins, or the flirtatious smirk he flashes when he’s on the prowl. It’s a tiny, genuine thing, a signal of real warmth and care, the kind given out rarely, making it all the more precious.

Geralt imagines standing and joining the dancers, Jaskier giving him that smile again. He imagines leaning in, inhaling that scent of lavender and road dust, running a hand through his hair, and kissing the smile from his lips. He’d smell like campfires and he’d taste like sweet wine.

.

He should have been faster. He should have been smarter. He should have known the bruxa had a mate, and he should have been ready to fight two rather than one.

But recriminations won’t help him now, as he’s bleeding out in a damp stone cellar. The Swallow he’s taken will slow his heart rate, but the gash in his side where he was swiped with sharp claws is too deep and he won’t survive the blood loss.

It’s a stupid, pointless way to die.

And then a beam of light spears through the cellar as the shutters are thrown open and a familiar face appears, peering into the darkness.

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s nose wrinkles as he tries to see in the dark. “Are you... oh gods...”

Relief washes over Geralt like sliding into a warm bath. Everything will be okay now that Jaskier is here. Even though Jaskier’s breath is heaving and his hands shake as he presses a linen pad to Geralt’s side, he knows what to do.

Jaskier leans over him, takes his face in his hands. “Geralt, stay with me,” he begs.

Geralt wants to tell Jaskier that he’ll always stay with him. He wants to wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. He wants to kiss the unhappy twist off his lips.

But he can’t do any of those things with blood pouring out of his side, so instead, he passes out.

.

The winter has been long and cold and lonely, and even the other wolf witchers could only distract Geralt for so long. For weeks he’s been itching to head south, to greet the sun and the Path, and most importantly to meet Jaskier once again. It’s a thrumming want inside him, one that barely whispers its intentions even as it drives him forward along the roads of Velen.

And then, on a beaten path outside an unremarkable village, he spots him: Jaskier, shining like a jewel in bright clothing which is eclipsed only by the brightness of his smile. There’s something so familiar about the sight of his bard on the dusty road that Geralt’s heart leaps in his chest.

Before he has time to think, Geralt’s feet are carrying him forward and he’s sweeping Jaskier into his arms, lifting him off the ground, hugging him close as he squeals and giggles.

He sets him carefully back on his feet and basks in the warmth of his presence, admiring the way Jaskier ducks his head and the bashful grin that lifts his cheeks.

Geralt wants, with a powerful yearning that’s been building all winter, to take his beautiful face in his hands and to kiss him with all the longing he’s been burying away all this time.

For a moment he feels like he might finally have the courage to follow through. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head, feels the soft curls of his hair between his fingers, enjoys the look of surprise and delight on Jaskier’s face as he tilts his chin up to face him.

But... his mind supplies. What if it’s unwanted? What if he’s misread the situation? What if he messes up the one solid friendship he has?

He falters.

.

Jaskier registers the second that Geralt’s doubts arrive, when he draws back into himself and retreats from their embrace.

“Oh, hell no,” he says, earning a surprised bark of a laugh from Geralt.

Jaskier has been waiting months for this, even before his long, boring winter at Oxenfurt. Months of noting the way that Geralt looks at him, the way his eyes will flick to his lips at intense moments. Months of holding himself back, resisting his own urges, letting Geralt come to him.

He’s done waiting.

“I missed you,” he says, and Geralt’s hands squeeze him a little tighter, betraying his emotions even as he works to keep his face impassive. “And I think you missed me too.”

He lifts his hand to cup Geralt’s cheek, and Geralt goes very, very still, barely breathing. A few years ago Jaskier would have taken that for a rebuke, but he knows Geralt better by now. He’s holding himself back from what he thinks he shouldn’t want.

“Silly witcher,” he chides, and kisses him.

Geralt is still as stone beneath his lips, and Jaskier has just enough time to wonder if he’s made a terrible mistake. But then Geralt is pulling him closer and kissing him back as if he’s been starving for it, lips and teeth and tongue, hands clasping at his back and running into his hair like he wants to touch everywhere at once.

They’re both panting by the time they pull apart, and Jaskier can’t help but match Geralt’s dopey smile.

“It’s good to see you too, Geralt.”

[hotlineslasher]

Interview With A Slasher

Rating: Explicit (I think?? I mean it’s smut)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Content (Vaginal Fingering), Danny is a confusing bastard 

A/N: I don’t want plot with my porn just feelings! This is my first fic I’ve ever posted pls be gentle with me I promise I’ll be better in the future and write less niche scorpio porn

AO3 link

***

When you first set foot into the entity’s perverted playworld, it was a hellscape made worse by how straight-up confusing everything was. Sure, the entity keeps on coming up with new insanities to throw at you, but over time you’ve learned there are rules that make things bearable. That make things make sense. If x, then y. If you break the don’t-drop-god-pallet rule, you get left to suffer on the hook longer. If you don’t unhook your teammates before the entity creeps down to thrash with them, you probably won’t escape with your life... or your friendship. If you don’t heal Bill quickly, his wheezing will be everyone’s downfall.

And, of course, if you so much as look at a killer outside of the trials, you’ll be cut off from the group.

Though it made all the sense in the world for survivors and killers to hook up in between hooking, you were the only one out of your little group to do the deed with one of the proverbial devils in your hell. Survivors smooching survivors was completely commonplace but you knew if they found out the infamous ghostface had taken very... different polaroids of you, they’d take it as a betrayal. Other survivors who weren't already spoken for were fair game, but choosing to interact with any of the killers was a statement.

So, despite Danny’s whining and bitching, you had made sure to be extremely careful. Which meant additional rules for the two of you. One of which was no sneaking off from the campfire, no matter how hard you could feel him staring at you from across the burning logs. Ironically, you weren't exactly sure where the two of you stood in the less literal sense. One dirty affair was more than enough for you, so you hadn't so much as looked at any of the survivors like that since your first hookup with Danny... but you didn't know if the same could be said for him. I mean, as ridiculous as the situation is, it would be nice to know what you meant to him. With Danny, it was kind of hard to tell. On one hand, he'd been... interested in you from the start. Any time you were in a trial together, you were his obsession, and it had always been like that. He was less lethal when it came to chasing you, like he enjoyed the game of cat and mouse when you were the one playing it with him. On the other, as much as he loved to stalk you, he wasn't exactly forthcoming about himself. Whenever you tried to get to know him beyond the ghostface mask, he'd distract you, or deflect, or get magically pulled away to a trial. Your gaze drifts over to where Nancy and Steve are huddled together, looking the very image of cutesy. Oh, to pick sensible romantic partners like Steve.

“You okay, kid?” Bill’s gruff voice pulls your focus from the flames you’ve been staring at to avoid Danny’s gaze. Ironically, Bill is sitting across from you so now you have a small excuse to glimpse in Danny’s direction. “Bad trial?” The old man prompts.

Your shoulders pull up in a shrug, “I mean, when is there ever a good trial?” Your answer isn’t cheery by any stretch, but that’s one of your favorite things about Bill. Talking to him, you don’t feel any pressure to bullshit and act optimistic.

A husky laugh rattles out of him and immediately you feel more at ease, like you’re just hanging out with peepaw. “Fair point,” he nods. “Who was it? One of the more fucked-up ones?”

It actually makes you snort, because intuitively you sort of know which select killers he’s referring to. “Yeah, it was the clown. I swear to god, I inhaled so much of that shit my voice is going to start sounding like yours,” you smile, eyeing Bill with the fondness of grandpa’s favorite grandkid.

Bill rolls his eyes and it looks like he’s going to fire back some sass when suddenly Ace comes sauntering over to clap a hand on his back. “Sorry to interrupt, hot stuff, but I need you to come teach the new girl that trick against slugging.” Ace tilts his head towards where Feng and Elodie are sitting a couple yards away, both audibly pissed at having been left to bleed out on the ground.

“Oh, sure, sure.” Bill nods as he gets up from his seat, always one to have his priorities clearly in check. Another one of the unspoken rules. Someone needs some guidance in the trials, you give it to them without hesitation. You still owed Meg for teaching you how to slip into lockers quietly. “Wait— you uh, you gonna be okay on your own?” The old man is standing like he’s ready to go with Ace, but his eyes are hard and clearly telling you he’ll stay with you if you need him to.

Ace opens his mouth, probably to offer to keep you company, but you’re not like Bill. Waving them both off, your eyes fall on where Danny is crouched in the shadows. Your priorities are nowhere NEAR where they should be, you think, waiting for them to take a few steps away before you break your very cardinal rule: no sneaking away at the campfire.

His hands were on you immediately and your adrenaline ran hot in response. “You have to be quiet, Danny,” you reminded him quickly, keenly aware of his penchant for risky dirty talk.

“Aww, but I thought you hated it when I was quiet!” You couldn’t see his face behind his mask, but god, you could feel the dramatic pout. His fingers slid across your hips, pulling you into him aggressively. “Or do you just need some foreplay first?” He purred, one palm slipping down underneath your skirt to grab at the flesh of your ass. “Fuck, I love it when she puts you in this.”

“Danny!” You hissed, nerves ablaze with proximity-based anxiety. You were playing with fire by even letting him get this far and you knew it. Danny was the kind of guy who you couldn’t give an inch to because he’d take a yard and would make it feel so good you’d happily give him a mile no matter how many warning alarms went off in your head. “If any of them-“

“I know, I know, if any of them find out you’d be a pariah, blah blah blah... hey, I didn’t know you liked the old fucker so much,” Danny says completely casually, his palm smoothing over your asscheek absentmindedly.

You sigh, hating how you can already feel yourself melting a bit under his touch. “Feeling jealous?” You breathe, looking up into the black mesh that’s hiding his eyes from you.

He has the audacity to snort, the cocky son of a bitch. “Fuck no,” he chuckles light-heartedly. “You’re lucky I don’t spank you raw just for suggesting that.” You feel the points of his fingers dig into the skin of your ass with the threat. Suddenly his other hand is on your face, cradling your jaw gently. “I just wanna know more shit about you,” he says plainly, his two hands sending two very different signals to your touch-starved brain, both of them good.

You lean into the one that’s framing your cheek, hating yourself for how handsy you’re letting him be when you’re both close enough to hear Bill bark out directions. “Yeah? You wanna know who’s my bff back at the campfire?” It’s sarcastic and you know you immediately need to make up for it unless you want to tempt him into making you scream. You decide you’ll placate him by turning your face and pressing a kiss into his gloved palm. You think you catch the faintest sigh from him for your effort.

“I do,” he grunts as his hand turns to cover your mouth, his fingertips pressing into your cheeks. “I wanna know everything about you.” Coming from someone else, it might sound romantic. But Danny’s voice is dark, teetering on obsessive. From a different person, the words might paint a picture of lovely dates and idyllic late-night conversations. But from his masked mouth, they scream stalking. Looking at you when you don’t know he’s there, sifting through your belongings, hoarding candids of you that you’ll never know exist.

“So come on, is it the geezer? You know, thinking back on it, he does love to take hits for you,” Danny muses, his mood suddenly light again.

You roll your eyes, reaching up to pull his palm off your mouth when you feel his grip soften. “Sure, I guess Bill is my bff. I have to fight Ace for him though, so I don’t know how mutual it is,” you shrug. It’s irrelevant shit, you know it is, and you can’t see his face to make sure, but you suspect Danny’s listening intently to you anyways. Like he’d be happy to hear you prattle on about the social dynamics between the people he loves to gut. The undivided attention fills you with yearning and his gloved finger is in your mouth before the thought is even fully formed. You don’t know how much of your heat he can actually feel through the thick fabric, but based on how his fingers slip under your panties, it’s doing something for him.

“God, you’re such a slut,” he hisses, the fingers in your panties now prodding at your slit. “You don’t know how bad I want to pull out my dick and make you choke on it right now.” His arousal feeds yours like it always does and combined with the leather slipping between your folds, you don’t stand a chance. Fuck the rules. You lathe at his finger happily, but Danny has other plans and before you know it your mouth is empty. Your eyebrows pull up in confusion and he shushes you sweetly. “I wanna hear more,” he explains, his fingers inching towards your hole. “Tell me,” he urges, “tell me everything and I’ll make you cum, beautiful.”

His slow attack on you has you biting your lip and failing to decipher what he specifically wants to hear. “W... what do you want to— know?” You breathe, both of your hands finding themselves on his chest for support.

“Which one of them was your first friend here?” He asks as one of his long fingers penetrates you lazily. He wastes no time in establishing the sensual rhythm, but you know Danny, and you know it’ll all stop unless you play his weird games. Today, it’s whatever the hell this line of questioning is.

You blink, trying to come up with an answer while he massages your walls. “Meg,” you finally answer, your nails digging into the leather covering his chest. He doesn’t answer right away and you bite back a smile. “The redhead,” you clarify. Of course he wouldn’t know anybody’s names, duh, you’re letting a killer fingerfuck you right now.

Pleased that you’ve caught onto what he wants, Danny slips another finger into you and makes you keen like a teenager. “Who would you bring back with you, if you could go back to your old life?” Both the question and the spot his second finger rubs up against take you by surprise and you almost cry out. The contrast between how well you know each other’s most sensitive spots and how little you know about each other’s ‘old lives’ gives you a weird feeling in your stomach. “Shhh,” Danny taunts happily, “we have to be quiet, remember?” His smirk is pretty much audible as he throws your words back in your face.

You shoot him a glare in response but grab onto one of his outfit’s tendrils to hopefully try and ground yourself. “Who’s your bff?” You suddenly ask, taking you both by surprise. His fingers keep moving but it’s clear he wasn’t expecting you to flip his inquiry back on him. You can't blame him, you weren't expecting you to do that either. The quiet milliseconds feel like hours and you find yourself starting to sweat a bit more. Fuck, was that not okay? His fingers stay inside you, moving at their same rhythm, but you're to busy overthinking to keep climbing towards your orgasm right now.

“Amanda, probably,” Danny responds with a small shrug. You feel yourself start to breathe again. “Oh,” he giggles, “you wouldn’t know her name, right. The Pig,” he clarifies quickly before shifting his focus to your clit.

A sigh tumbles out of you as he rubs it with just enough pressure to make you sink your nails into the cloth of the tendril. Like always, Danny’s mind and body seem to be on two different paths as he starts plunging his digits in faster. “Danny,” you beg, desperately wanting a beat to think about the information he just gave you but not finding it in his new rhythm.

“Come on, you didn’t answer my second question. You’re lucky you look so fucking hot right now or else I’d leave you high and dry... well, maybe I will...” he threatens and you press your forehead into his chest, trying to communicate how badly you do /not/ want that to happen.

“Fuck, fuck,” you pant, brain whirring trying to remember his question. Honestly? It’d been so long since you let yourself think of your ‘old life,’ you didn’t really have an answer thought out. “I don’t— know,” you pull back to look at him through his mask, “I don’t think about my old— my old life anymore.” You’re not sure if it’ll piss him off because you’ve again failed to answer the question but Danny tends to like honesty so you pray he lets it slide. Because, fuck, his thumb on your clit like it is has you ready to drench him at any moment.

He’s quiet for a second. His head tilts. And then you hear his gruff sigh and suddenly his pace becomes even more lethal. Your knees buckle but his other hand wraps around your waist like a vice and you swear some of the tendrils seem to reach out towards you too. If you thought it felt heavenly before, it was nothing compared to how he was touching you now. Your own hand has to slap across your mouth to stop you from moaning like a whore. “Good,” he hisses, his voice low. “Don’t ever think about it,” he demands, “you’re here, now.” Your vision swims as you tear up, his assault on your heat making you shake. “You’re never getting rid of me, you understand?” His voice sounds obsessive again but it only gets you hotter.

You both know you’re going to cum any second, there’s no way you could properly respond to the insane shit he’s saying right now, you can barely even process it. So, instead, you choose to be risky again and move the hand that’s covering your mouth to his neck instead and pull his mask to meet your lips.

Your eyes jam shut as your hips seize and sharp jolts of white-hot pleasure wrack your entire being. You hope you’re quiet but honestly, mid-orgasm you can only hear Danny’s erratic panting. For a few precious seconds, while your body is flooded with endorphins from his ministrations, it’s just you and him. Your mouth pulls away slightly while you ride the orgasm but he closes the distance between you instantly, pressing his masked mouth to yours.

The blood pounding in your ears starts to slow down and your eyes open back up slowly. You’re so close you can see through the mesh and into his irises. His pupils are completely blown out and it gives him a downright feral look you know should really scare you. But it doesn’t. After all, that’s the real first rule you broke.

You pull away and lean your head on his shoulder when you start to worry he'll hear how your heart is beating out of your chest, your panting far quieter now though it’s still rugged as hell. “Who...” you pipe up when you feel his fingers slip out of you, “who would you...?” Your brain is still way too fuzzy from the hormones to fully articulate what you mean. Hopefully he gets that you’re asking his question back and doesn’t think you just sound like an idiot—

You feel his chest shake when he rumbles out a chuckle above you. From where you’re angled, you get to watch him bring his fingers up to his mouth from behind the mask. A small groan escapes him at tasting you and your chest soars with confidence. He thinks you taste good. Better than good, given how much time he’s spending savoring every last drop on his tongue. You almost forget about your question at the show, but you remember instantly when his raspy voice rattles out, “isn’t it obvious?”

You blink slowly and then suddenly you feel a swell of affection for him as you get his meaning.

Out of everyone, even the killers, you. He’d choose you.

[shreddedparchment]

A World of Our Own Pt.06

Broken Hearts

09/20/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 6,012

Warnings: violence, blood, suggestive themes, language

A/N: I’ve been so excited for this chapter for so long. Probably just one or two more chapters after this. I hope you enjoy it! If you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

Ryan’s chuckle is infectious, and you can’t help but laugh along with him as he leans over to stoke the flames of your campfire.

It’s warm. Cozy by the roaring ocean waves that bring with it a cool briny breeze.

“Don’t laugh at me. It was very traumatizing.” Ryan demands, putting the large stick he’s been using to poke the fire aside before leaning back against new palm logs that he and Bucky had chopped for seating.

Even though you’re meant to sit on them, all of you seem to prefer to sit on blankets you’d stitched together from clothing too worn to use anymore.

“I feel bad for the shark. It has probably never seen a naked man before in its life and you’re out here dangling your bits all over its face.” You tease, shaking your head as if you really disapprove of him.

“Wha-?!” Ryan gasps, mouth wide open as he struggles to find a comeback.

“I was mindin’-” he takes a lengthy pause. “-mah own business-”

He places his hand on his chest as he pauses again, the wheels in his brain working quickly to come up with his excuse.

“-when this very large an’ scary fish comes out of the depths an’ charges me. I was the one scrambling ta get back ta shore. I was the one who was given a heart attack. Not the bloody shark!”

“Well, why were you swimming so far out?” You ask him, chuckling again and feeling your cheeks warm with embarrassment at the memory of watching him run out of the water screaming at the top of his lungs, “Shark! Shark! Shark!” completely naked.

You’re not ashamed to say that there was nothing there that wasn’t worth looking at, but it was only an afterthought that you now think of as opposed to noticing in the moment.

You’d turned around instantly and gasped, completely confused as to why he was running towards you naked until you’d heard what he was saying.

“Should I start the fish?” Ryan asks, reaching for the folded leaves beside him where you’d put the cleaned fish when the sun had still been out.

It’s very obvious that Ryan isn’t answering your question.

Both you and Bucky have been watching him closely over the past month, since he’d first shown up completely wet, wondering where it is that he goes when he swims.

It wouldn’t make you so suspicious if he weren’t randomly disappearing when he takes these swims. He waits until you and Bucky are busy, distracted, then wanders off without a word.

Bucky has made you swear not to follow him, afraid of what Ryan might be capable of if he is up to something and is suddenly caught.

Problem is Bucky also refuses to leave you alone anymore, so he doesn’t get to tail Ryan either.

Until Ryan chooses to answer your question, neither of you will ever know where he goes.

“Sure.” You nod, then reach to place the metal sheet that Bucky had made for cooking food without having to deal with embers and ash on the fish.

Ryan separates each fish into one leaf on its own then places them on the thin sheet so that they might bake.

The two of you work in silence for a bit, sitting across the fire from each other, you steal glances at him, and he returns each look. He smiles, his expression kind and so trustworthy that you think in moments like these that you and Bucky might be wrong about him.

“Ryan?” You begin, hesitant.

He smiles to encourage you.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He nods, smile vanishing as his face becomes a little more serious. Confused as to why you think you have to ask.

“Why don’t you talk about your son?” You wonder, now having said the words your mouth keeps going. “You drop this bomb and then never mention him again. I wasn’t sure whether you didn’t want to talk about him, so I never asked. If you’d prefer not to, I understand. There are things I’d rather not talk about to. Everyone is entitled to their secrets. I just—a kid is such a big part of who you are, right? Not the only part of you, obviously but he’s your son. You must think about him all the time.

“Who did you leave him with? He must miss you so much. I’m so sorry that you’re stuck here, with us, instead of home with your boy.” You sigh, and your breath shudders.

You smile at him awkwardly, realizing you’ve rambled on nervously.

“Sorry.” You offer, “I kinda just go off when I’m nervous.”

Ryan’s face is the picture of relaxation, however. He’s not smiling, but he doesn’t look upset that you’ve asked.

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head and you’re certain that he’s going to tell you he doesn’t want to talk about it, but then… “To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t really sure that you or Bucky cared to know about Conor.”

“His name is Conor?” You gasp, smiling already like an idiot as you start to imagine a mini version of Ryan. Sandy blonde hair, lovely eyes, light skin.

“Aye, wee tyke is only five but when he talks to you, he sounds much older.” Finally, he smiles, the admiration of a father pouring out of him as he thinks about his little boy.

“Does he look like you or his mother?” You wonder, eager for details now that he’s talking.

“He looks like his mother. Almost my exact opposite. Dark hair and skin. Perhaps a bit lighter than his mother but he’s her spittin’ image. Dark eyes too. Just as beautiful.” Ryan says, a bit more forlorn than before.

Your own smile falters, wondering if maybe he and Conor’s mother are no longer together? Jeez, you really hope that he isn’t still married and flirting with you the way he has been. Not that you blame him being stuck on an island with no other women, but still.

Ryan seems like the type of man to devote himself completely.

“Is she-?” You offer, just to see if he’d like to open up.

He meets your gaze, holding it for a long moment before he tilts his head a little as he makes his choice quickly.

“Grace died. Just after giving birth to Conor. Conor almost went with her, but he pulled through and we have made a go of it, I think.” He gives you another smile. “I think he’s happy. Or was, before all this.”

“I’m so sorry, Ryan. I’m sure Conor loves and appreciates you very much.” His story is tragic, and your heart truly breaks for him.

“Thank you. Gettin’ back to him is the only thing that matters now.” He nods, looking more at ease. “It feels good to talk about them if I’m honest. I havin’ really spoken about it ta anyone other than mah parents. That’s who Conor is with, by the way. You were wonderin’ earlier.”

“You can always talk to me. About anything.” You assure him.

His smile grows wider and any sorrow left in his eyes vanishes as he looks down at the cooking fish before giving his head a minute shake.

“What?” You ask, your own voice shaking with the hint of laughter at the amused expression on his face.

“I was just thinkin’ about how unfortunate it is that you’re taken now. You would have made him a proper step-mom maybe.” His bold words stun you.

At a loss for what to say, you can only seem to focus on the way your neck begins to burn.

Ryan clearly enjoys watching you squirm for the two second that he has to do so before Bucky’s voice breaks the tension.

“Keep that up and you’ll lose your room.” Bucky warns, a playful note in his voice but really you can hear how serious he is.

“I just got it.” Ryan protests, looking towards the hut down the beach.

Bucky worked so hard on the build, elevated and sturdy with each brick placed with care and somewhat expert precision. The gambrel roof, which Bucky chose so that you could use the extra space to hang clothes and food away from where animals might find them, is tall and thatched with the fronds you’d worked so hard to tear and resew to keep the hut safe from the elements.

The hut is split in two down the center with two entrances. When you face the hut, the left side of it is taken by Ryan, a flight of bamboo stairs leading up to the curtained entrance. The right side belongs to you and Bucky.

“Stop flirting with my girl then, and I’ll let you keep it.” Bucky threatens, this time it’s clear he means it.

Ryan holds up his hands in defeat as you turn to devour you freshly bathed Bucky. In jeans and a t-shirt, he looks almost as if he’s ready to begin his day but instead of being productive he drops his dirty clothes into the handmade basket you’d woven with the extra strips of palm fronds then moves towards you. He takes hold of your face, tilting it back so that you might look up at him.

He leans down to look at you, smiling pleasantly.

“Hi.” He tells you, voice deep and penetrating.

“Hi.” You reply. “You smell good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He leans down and kisses you, lips so sweet and fresh you could really just do this all night. He holds it for a few moments before he begins pushing you to scoot forward.

You move as he wants you to, looking back at him as he sits himself behind you, legs spread wide before he pulls you back to sit between his legs which he props up on either side of you. His arms wrap around your stomach and while your happiness quadruples with this unyielding affection he seems to shower on you lately, you can’t help but notice the way Ryan looks away, a small twinge of bitterness in his expression.

It’s just the island. You tell yourself, certain that if you all weren’t stuck here, you wouldn’t be so lucky as to hold the attention of two very beautiful men.

Although you’re certain, you can’t help but wonder if Ryan really does like you. Is it possible?

~~~~~~~~~~

Time doesn’t stop. Not for you stuck on this island. Not for Bucky, torn from the promise of a new life. Not for Ryan who misses his son and is losing more and more time with him. With time is taken all hope that you’ll ever be rescued but the three of you refuse to speak the words aloud.

In silence, there is the illusion of hope and you cannot afford to let it go.

Days roll into weeks and the three of you try to keep your spirits up. It’s easier for you and Bucky, you assume. Finally, being with him has changed very little and so much all at once.

The biggest change is your sleeping arrangements. The hut has been built for a while now. Two months it feels like, going on three. Six months going on seven since you three have been trapped here.

With the hut came privacy, the adobe wall that splits it in two gives you and Bucky the luxury of cuddling as you used to in the fuselage without the worries of being accidentally disturbed.

Because of this, in the morning Bucky’s warm kisses trail along your cheeks, your neck, onto your collarbone raising tingles in all the right places before he finds his way up to your lips.

His arms wrap themselves around you as hey lays himself over you and you raise your leg to hold him close.

“Good morning.” He whispers and your eyes open, devouring the beautiful image of him. Clean and dry. Not a drop of sweat on his perfect skin whereas your own is dewy and you’re in need of a morning swim.

“Good morning.” You whisper, your body burning for him.

It doesn’t help that you can feel him pressed against your thighs, stiff and awake with the morning.

With your lips suddenly dry, you run your tongue along them, wetting them as your breath hitches when he rolls his hips from side to side as he adjusts himself over you.

You know that he doesn’t mean it to make your blood boil, but it does and you snake your hands down to his waist before your fingers worm their way underneath his t-shirt and gently tickle his smooth skin.

“What are you doing?” He asks you, a smile in his voice as he raises an eyebrow but hold you closer.

“I don’t know.” You shrug, licking your lips again.

He huffs a laugh, cool air raising goosebumps along your neck.

“I think you know.” He counters, amused by your attempt to seduce him.

“Then why ask?” You reach down, sliding your hand down underneath the waistband of his underwear, breath catching in your throat at the swell of his bum.

“Y/N,” He pleads, a small hint of a chastising tone to his words. “We can’t.”

“But I want to.” You whimper, tired of begging. It’s been so long since the two of you have been together. For what feels like forever now.

“So, do I, kitten. Trust me.” He wiggles his hips, probably just trying to get comfortable but he inadvertently eggs you on, proves his point by pressing his erection against you—accidentally of course.

“Then…” You try it even though you know he’ll say no. Even though this argument has failed so many times. “…I can just-I’ll give you something and you don’t have to give me anything back.”

“I could never do that.” He argues, his face contorting a bit more. The hints of anger rising.

“Then we can just stop there, Bucky. We’ve got control, don’t we? I wanna suck your co-”

“Jesus, Y/N.” Bucky rolls off of you, sitting at the edge of the low bed with his elbows on his knees as he looks across the hut to the opposite wall, his breathing a little heavy.

You sit up, blinking away the tears of rejection because you know he doesn’t mean it in that way. You know what his worry is because it’s you’re worry too.

“I’m sorry.” You move up behind him, hugging him around his chest and resting your cheek against his solid back.

The rapid rate of his heart tells you how much he wants you even if he can’t see to let himself show it. You take solace in that as you splay your hands on his chest, breathing in the scent of the coconut oil you’d infused into the handmade soap you’d worked on several weeks ago.

“I…you know that we can’t.” He frets, still upset.

“I do.” You shake your head. “I’m just-”

He hears the sob trapped in your throat and he turns so quickly you nearly fall over but he’s there, holding you tight against his chest, hands caressing the back of your head as the other wraps around your shoulders.

“I want you, kitten. Believe me. I do. If I could be sure that we wouldn’t mess up…You were the one that set this boundary.” He reminds you, pulling back to look at you as shame overcomes you.

He’s right of course. You’d told him that you didn’t want to sleep with him until the two of you could be sure that you wouldn’t get pregnant. Not here. Not on this island. There was too much that could go wrong. Too much danger for a baby, not to mention birthing one here with no doctors in case something went wrong.

No, you couldn’t do it and so you’d both agreed.

But…

“I didn’t think we’d still be here.” You huff, burying your face into his chest to hide your embarrassment.

Bucky breathes a little more lightly, almost laughing again at the shift. This conversation has gone from up to down and right back up.

“I know, babe.” He whispers, resting his chin on your head as he strokes your back with both hands. “To be honest, my patience is also wearing thin.”

You pull back quickly, searching to get a look at his eyes to see if he might be lying. He isn’t and it does make you feel better that you aren’t the only one struggling with this abstinence.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to wait.” He confesses.

“Me neither.” You sigh. “But you already knew that.”

His face breaks into a smile and you’re calm again, happy to see that beautiful expression on his handsome face. Silver blue eyes all crinkled at the corners.

You reach up to touch his hair, giving it a decent appraisal. “You need another cut.”

“I think we should go shorter this time.” He nods.

“Like a little higher than your chin?” You touch the spot, but Bucky shakes his head.

“No, I mean, short.”

You gasp. “Bucky, I don’t think I trust myself to do that.”

“I trust you.” He counters but you shake your head.

Nope. You’re not going to risk butchering his lovely locks.

“I won’t do it, Barnes.” You frown.

“Stubborn ass.” He glowers.

“Fuck you.” You retort.

“Not yet.” He teases.

“I hate you!” You spit at him, because you can already see the laugh coming at that unfair statement and you shove away from him, moving towards the clothes you’ve got packed in one of the salvaged suitcases to pull out your favorite pair of jean shorts and a plain red t-shirt.

He’s laughing as you dress and doesn’t stop when you’re gone.

Making your way down to the campfire, you search for Ryan, half expecting to find him cooking fish for breakfast but he’s nowhere to be found.

As Bucky joins you, dressed in the same t-shirt with his own favorite pair of jeans on, you place your hands on your hips and look towards the stretch of water where the cockpit had once been visible.

It seems to have sunk to the floor now that the tide has risen and fallen so many times, taking the plane with it.

“What’s the matter?” Bucky wonders, lifting his foot onto the trough he’s been mixing more clay in again, working on something secret that he refuses to let you in on just yet.

“I’ll tell you when it’s relevant. Right now, it’s just a precaution. Trust me, okay? If I need to bring it up, I will.” Then he’d gone back to lining the outside of the hut with metal sheets from the plane before sealing them over with clay.

He laces up his boot but watches you as he works.

“He’s gone again.” You shake your head.

“He hasn’t tried anything.” Bucky ponders. “If he was going to hurt us, he would have done it by now.”

“I know, it’s just…” You bite your lip.

“He is hiding something.” Bucky agrees, this conversation having played out so many times. “But I think he also wants some distance from us. We’re probably annoying to be around.”

“We’re not that bad anymore.” You argue.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky whispers, his lips suddenly at your ear.

He kisses it, slipping your lobe into his mouth as your eyes shut to the pleasure the gesture raises.

“You’re not making this any easier.” You sigh but turn to look at him and without hesitation pull him down to meet your lips with his own.

The kiss is a frenzy, heated and eager as your hands grope and cling as Bucky’s also press and pull against the flesh of your hips and ass leaving burning bruises behind.

Out here where you might get caught is the safest place to be this affectionate. Where you can’t take this any further than this passionate kiss.

“Do ya really have ta do that so early in the mornin’?” Ryan’s voice cuts in, interrupting just as you both intend.

Bucky pulls away first, letting the smack of your kiss echo before giving you one devilish grin then marching back to the trough.

“Sorry.” You turn to Ryan, hoping your expression is rightly chastised. “Fish?”

Ryan holds it up to indicate his catch then moves towards you to hand it over for cleaning.

You settle down beside him on your usual stump, pulling out your makeshift knives and gut the fish with the precision of someone who’s done this everyday for half a year. Ryan gets to building a new fire, gathering as much of the ash for you as he can for when you decide to make more soap.

While you work, you watch him, stealing glances at the subtle downturn to the corners of his lips.

The longer he works the more he seems to wallow.

Once the fish is settled over the fire, you turn in your spot to focus your attention on him.

“What?”

Slightly startled, he turns to you with wide eyes, all traces of the depression he’s been in gone.

“What?” He sounds confused.

“What’s the matter with you?” You clarify.

“Oh.” He sighs and shakes his head.

You know you can guess. “Conor?”

“Aye, Conor.” The sadness returns to his face and your heart gives a painful lurch for him.

He must miss his son so much.

“He’s probably startin’ school this month.” He laments, stoking the fire.

“It’s his first year?”

“Aye, I hope he isn’t scared.” Ryan hopes.

“I’m sure he’s just as brave as his dad.” You offer in comfort, giving Ryan as kind a smile as you can muster.

“We’ll get off this island, Ryan. Someone will come. Even if it’s by accident. Even if it’s years from now. You’ll be with Conor again.” You hope, because even though you want it to be a promise, you don’t know.

Ryan’s face contorts, agony ripping through him for one quick second before he meets your gaze and reaches out to take hold of your hand.

“I think…” Bucky begins from the trough, Ryan’s hand freezing mere inches from your own.

He takes it back and clears his throat, the look of pain vanishing from his handsome face before he looks to Bucky just as you do.

Bucky’s gaze is focused on the horizon, the ocean waves unnaturally gentle. It’s a beautiful day.

“What is it babe?” You call, trying to pull Bucky out of his thoughts.

He turns his furrowed brow back to the two of you, “I think we might have to move to the cave. Soon.”

“The cave?” You rise, glancing at the fish to make sure they’re not burning. “The one Ryan was in when he landed?”

Ryan sits back, a perplexed gaze fixed on Bucky.

“Yeah. Do you think you can show me where it is?”

“Why would ya need to go there?” Ryan reaches out to stoke the fire once again, pulling his gaze away from you both.

“Bucky?” You worry, moving towards him as he straightens up and wipes his hands clean to take your hand as you reach him.

“We won’t need to go there yet.” He assures you, wrapping his metal arm around your waist to pull you into his side. “It’s just a precaution.”

“A precaution against what?”

“It’s hurricane season. The hut is…I’m not exactly an architect. I’ve done what I can with what we have but that hut is not meant to withstand a hurricane. When it comes down to it, we might be able to take shelter in the fuselage if we have to but with the three of us, the cave might be a better option. How did you hold up in the caves during that first storm?” Bucky gestures to Ryan.

Ryan spares you both a glance before nodding. “There was minor flooding at the back jus’ before the exit by the jungle but otherwise it was dry and safe. It’s not a bad plan.”

“Then you’ll show me where it is?” Bucky insists.

“It’s not hard ta find, but sure. Tomorrow morning?” Ryan turns to him.

Bucky nods leaning down to press a kiss to your head.

The memory of that initial hurricane just after you’d crash landed here fills you with worry. What if you do have to go through another one and this one is worse? How likely is it that you’d die from a storm before you get rescued?

“Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll keep you safe.” Bucky whispers, reaching up to stroke your cheek with the back of his hand where there is no clay.

“I wish you didn’t have to shoulder so much.”

“Taking care of you is never too much.” Bucky smiles. “I kinda look forward to it actually.”

“Why?” You wonder, absolutely confused.

“Because I do. Don’t question it. Just accept it. You’re never getting rid of me.” He teases.

“Even when we’re rescued?” You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Especially when we’re rescued.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you once, then starts to lean down towards you for a kiss.

“I’m going for a swim.” Ryan announces, breaking the little bubble you and Bucky are in.

Without ceremony, Ryan moves straight for water headed towards the crash site without even feigning a different direction.

This draws both yours and Bucky’s attention as both of you are well aware that Ryan has still been swimming out to the cabin, but he’s taken such great care to go at it in roundabout ways. While strange, you guess that he must be more upset about Conor than even you could tell.

Your mind replays the agonized look he’d given you before when you’d promised him that rescue would be coming. Maybe he could tell that it was only your hope?

“He misses Conor. He should be starting school soon.” You explain.

“Mm.” Bucky nods, accepting your explanation.

“If there were any photos, he would have found them already, wouldn’t he?” You wonder, curious to no end about your new friend.

Sure, you have suspicions, but after so much time spent with him, you’ve both accepted him as a part of your life here. Ryan has your trust. And though you know it was given reluctantly, Bucky’s too.

“Maybe he just can’t bear to give up. I know I wouldn’t.” Bucky looks down at you, giving you a squeeze.

“If you had a son?” You ask.

“I’m not opposed to the idea.” Bucky stuns you, pulling you to look at him with his words to see how serious he might be about it. “With you. When the time is right.”

Your heart is pounding. Your mind is reeling. Bucky wants to have kids with you?

“You promise?” You gasp, so shocked your voice is mostly air.

“I love you.”

You smile, loving the words that spill from his lips.

“You do?”

Bucky smiles then chuckles, reaching up to squeeze the back of your neck, and you know that he’s telling you the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You smell good.” Bucky sighs, holding the blanket open for you as you take off your shoes and slip into the bed and nestle into Bucky’s arms. “Good bath?”

You can hear the exhaustion in his voice. He’s been working so hard to fortify the hut for smaller storms that might hit.

“Yes.” You hug him, cuddling in against his side as he drapes the blanket over you.

“You’re wearing your shorts?” He checks, and he’s right.

You’ve chosen to sleep in your second set of shorts, dark gray cloth instead of jeans and your tattered blue floral dress.

Because you don’t answer, Bucky adjusts to look down at you, forcing himself awake.

“Kitten?”

“I’m just…I want to be ready if we need to go short notice.” You confess, shutting your eyes and refusing to look at him. You don’t want him to see the fear.

“Ready for what?”

“Anything. Hurricanes.” You admit and wish you could throw away this fear.

You’re almost expecting Bucky to chastise you for your worrying but instead he settles into the plane cushion bed again and cuddles you closer.

“That’s smart.” He approves. “But we won’t have anywhere to run until tomorrow morning. Ryan has to show us the cave first.”

“Can I come?” You’re already drifting off, voice weak and slurring.

Bucky’s is the same, both of you exhausted from the day’s work.

“You kidding? I’m not letting you outta my sight.” He mumbles, his breathing getting heavier.

You almost smile but sleep takes you and your mind is overcome with dreams of thunderous clouds.

~~~~~~~~~~

For a moment Bucky isn’t sure what he’s hearing. He can feel you stirring to the sound in his arms and he tries to hold you tighter.

You were so scared before, the look of terror in your eyes at the prospect of being caught in a storm worse than the one you weathered before.

He wants to make sure you feel safe and secure with him. He’ll protect you from weather and predator, whether that’s animal or stupid fucking Ryan.

You tug away from him hard though and the sound…a humming…no, a loud thumping. It’s hard to place as he tries to both understand the sound and also figure out why you’re no longer lying beside him.

“Y/N?” He searches, sleepily pushing himself onto one elbow as he hears you bolt for the door.

Suddenly he’s wide awake and he can hear you rounding the hut to the other set of stairs on the other side.

He pulls his boots on quickly, sliding his feet in and lacing them with nimble fingers loosely.

“He’s gone!” You cry out, the pure panic in your voice as the sound overhead suddenly makes sense to Bucky.

A helicopter! It thuds loudly, motor whirring and buzzing and blowing sand everywhere while whipping trees back and forth.

Bucky springs form the hut and sees you already racing towards the trees where you can see the chopper headed.

He passes you quickly, easily. But he doesn’t stop because he knows that you would never forgive him.

Bucky runs faster than he’s ever run in his life, barreling through dense jungle but never once missing a step.

The branches of certain trees scrape at his skin and slap his face, but he doesn’t relent in his pursuit.

It takes minutes for him to reach a small field of tall grass. It’s sways violently in the chopper’s wind and at the center of this field is Ryan.

Bucky stops, taking in the sight as a blinding spotlight shines on Ryan first then quickly swings towards him.

Ryan follows the beam and when he sees Bucky take a step towards him, he reaches down to his hip where a holster suddenly sits. He pulls a gun, a 9mm Beretta from what Bucky can tell, and stops his advance.

“Stop!” Ryan orders, his voice tight and commanding.

As the chopper descends a little more to hover at fifty feet, a steel wire ladder falls down towards Ryan as Bucky begins to notice the metal case in his other arm.

“What’s in there?” Bucky asks, staying as still as he can until he might have a chance to pounce.

“The other black box.” Ryan says simply, his voice softer but defiant. “Parts of it.”

Bucky’s glare is piercing and if Ryan didn’t have that gun, he would probably have already fled.

“I had to…” Ryan begins, still combative in tone but Bucky realizes that the anger in it is not directed at him. “They have me by the balls, mate. When Grace died, Conor would have followed, but they found me, and they offered to save his life. That is a debt I can never repay.”

Bucky’s fists tighten, anger bubbling up to choke him so that he cannot speak. These schemes, it has to be Hydra. No one else would want him dead.

“Who’s they?” He forces himself to ask, just to make sure.

It could be the U.S. Government too if he’s being completely honest. They could very well want him out of the way.

“I don’t know. People.” Ryan throws out, and Bucky believes that he doesn’t know. “All I know is they wanted you out of the way. If I had known that she…I didn’t know that she would be there. I didn’t know that they would die.”

Ryan’s voice grows thick and he shakes his head, ridding himself of whatever thoughts his guilt have conjured up.

“If I don’t finish the job, they’ll kill mah boy.” He holds the gun steadier, catching his breath before he makes his face as stoic as possible. “This is all I can give her. I can’t save her, but I can at least do this much. I can give her you. They’ll think you’re dead. I’ll make sure.”

Bucky sees it now. The real emotions behind his eyes. Ryan does love you. He’s certain of it now. He also understands what he’s saying and leans forward, angling himself so that when Ryan shoots, the bullet will hit his shoulder. Too high to be his chest and endanger his lungs or heart.

“Tell her I’m sorry.” Ryan pleads, and squeezes the trigger.

Bucky’s mind races with possibilities. Ryan might miss. He could hit him where he will not recover and then you’d be left here alone on this island. You’d hate him for not fighting and hate Ryan for killing him. He could bleed out and Bucky can’t imagine you here without him.

The bullet pierces him just where he’d hoped and falls to the ground with a heavy thud and goes as still as he can possibly can.

He holds his breath, pushing through the pain that burns from his right shoulder, and hoping that the chopper will leave quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gasping with a stitch in your side and your legs made of jelly, you break through the trees onto a field you’ve passed a few times here on the island but avoided in case of snakes.

The sight before freezes you. Ryan shoots. Bucky falls.

Ryan turns to a wire ladder and begins to climb, and you race to Bucky, sobs already shaking your body.

“Bucky, no!” You gasp. “Please. Please, don’t be dead.”

As you reach him, you turn him over, and see that his eyes are wide open, reading your heartbroken expression as he remains unmoving while you press your hands against his wound.

You continue to sob, turning your eyes to the chopper overhead as it pulls away and takes with it all hope of your rescue.

As it fades into the distance, Bucky pulls himself up a bit, sitting up and pressing his much larger hand against the bullet hole on the front while you fuss with the exit wound in the back.

“W-We need to s-stitch you up.” You cry, voice low and controlled despite the sobs still ripping through your throat.

Without hesitation you reach down and tear away at your dress reducing its length even further, now just barely reaching your hips. You wrap it around the wound as best you can, slapping Bucky’s hand away to shove more fabric over it and then place his hand back over the spot.

“I’m alright, kitten.” Bucky tells you, voice strong and certain.

“Like fuck-all you are.” You sob, fisting the front of his shirt as you refuse to look back to where you can still hear the chopper’s sounds, fading. “H-He shot you.”

Bucky strokes the side of your face with his metal hand, directing your gaze up so that you can look at him.

As you meet his steel and ice eyes, full of warmth and reassurance, you fall to pieces as you realize that Ryan has betrayed you. All your suspicions, as unlikely as you’d thought them, were true.

Bucky metal arm pulls you closer, his lips pressed to your crown as you sob against his chest, knowing now that you will never leave this place. You and Bucky will live and die on this island and no one will ever know you were here.

[thr-333]

Drastic Measures- Part 11

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Snow globe~

Gabriel: Nathalie why haven't you canceled my card?! Nathalie: oh were you going to use that to pay my pay rise for moving to a different continent or to pay my last 6 years of overtime? Gabriel: Nathalie- Nathalie: You’re welcome to do it yourself sir. Gabriel:....... I can’t do anything without you can I? Nathalie: No you cant and make sure to remember that next pay day.

Ao3

First < Previous  > Next

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

“So why are we here?” Damian asks getting dragged around the mall by the two.

“Because if we’re decorating the pet stores we need inspiration,” Marinette holds him by his elbow in case he tries to escape again, “And Adrien's having fun,”

“Why don’t we just hire someone for that?”

“I haven't found a good babysitter yet,” Marinette smiles as she knows Damian glares at her, “The style of the store is the most important thing, it’s what people interact with the most and a representation of our company,”

“Tt,” Marinette smiles knowing she won. 

They follow Adrien into an incredibly overpriced knick-knacks store, exactly what they’re looking for. She jots down notes in her book looking at the glasswork on the figurines or the beautifully painted porcelain.

“I think every store should have the same color coordination for each section,” Marinette suggests writing down a potential palette based on the plates she was looking at, “So people always know where to find something no matter the store,”

“How many people do you think are going to multiple stores?” Damian scoffs.

“We will be, besides its a decorative thing, a bit of paint on the wall or shelf, hm maybe each section should have a range of shades to keep it from being too samey,”

“I take it you’re in charge of this part now?”

“Guess so,” Marinette hums looking over the shelves for more inspiration, Adrien looking over a large glass sculpture that she may have to talk him out of buying, “So did you talk to Adrien?”

“Oh no,” Damian catches her attention, “He talked I was expected to listen,”

“So you make any decisions?” She spots a little china doll on a high shelf.

“I’m not going to run away if that’s what you’re asking,” Damian reaches over her grabbing the doll before she knocks over shelves trying to jump up and reach it.

“But If you were-”

“I’m not,” Damian hands the doll over.

“But if you were,” He gives her a withered glare, “Where would you go?”

“… Somewhere I can paint I suppose,” He says after some consideration.

“That's a start!” Marinette exclaims, almost dropping the doll.

“I can paint anywhere,” Damian catches it before she can.

“Ah,” They go back to pursuing the shelves, Damian taking it upon himself to hold the delicate decorations for some reason.

“... Where would you go?” He asks eventually, Marinette tries to keep the smile to herself as to not scare him off.

“I used to think I’d like to go somewhere with lots of snow,”

“Is that so?” Damian hums consideringly.

“Yeah but then I came here and realized the cold sucks,” Marinette's jaw actually drops as Damian laughs, not a snort or a scoff and actual chuckle! “Hollll- did you just laugh?! Did I just get you to laugh!? Are there cameras around?! Do you think they’ll let me keep the footage?!”

“Calm down,” Damian places a hand on her head to stop her bouncing,  “Besides I think your friend is about to make a ludicrous purchase,”

“Adrien!” Marinette snaps as he tries to pay for a glass sculpture twice his size, “Can it fit on the back of a motorcycle?!”

“.... no,” Adrien hangs his head like a toddler being told off.

“Then put it down!” Marinette chides dragging him away from the sculpture and out of the store. She already had to fit three on them on hers. Damian is lagging behind, Marinette resigns herself to having to drag them both through the mall like children when he finally catches up.

“Here take this,” She startles a snow globe in a clear box being pressed into her hands, “Now you can look at the snow without getting cold,”

“That's so nice,” She bites down on the follow-up question of where the hell is Damian and what did you do with him.

“No, it’s bribery,” Ah there he is, “Don’t tell anyone I laughed,”

“So you admit you laughed,” Marinette smirks, letting Adrien go look at different stores.

“Besides,” Damian sharply changes the topic, “If you want to see the snow so badly just stay inside a cabin or something,”

“Well maybe you can come with me,” Marinette hums looking at the snowflakes fall over a winter forest, two little people by a campfire, “I bet it would be beautiful to paint,”

“Maybe so,” Damian agrees before giving her a side look, “Also you’re a horrible influence,”

“Who me? It’s not like I gave you the idea to run away,” He had come to her with that all on his own.

“No you didn’t,” Damian easily agrees, walking along with Marinette.

“Well if you’re still in the rebellion mood why don’t you join the pink hair squad?”

“I am not dying my hair pink,” Damian rolls his eyes.

“Just a little bit?” Marinette steps in front of him walking backward.

“No,” Damian brushes past her, Marinette lets him go ahead.

“Adrien I just had the best idea,” Marinette turns to her side where Adrien is not. Marinette looks behind her spotting Adrien in the crowd- getting picked up and carried away by a stranger! “ADRIEN!”

Damian hears her shout bolting forward. Grabbing a baton he apparently had the whole time. 

“Damian, watch out! They might have feelings!” Damian actually stops in his tracks, turning back to glare at her.

“...”

“...”

“Hey guys,” Adrien speaks up, “I’m kind of being kidnapped,”

“Right!” Marinette wipes the grin off her face, punching the kidnapper right on the jaw. He drops Adrien who lands on his feet, “Do I need a child leash for you young man?”

“Please don’t my Father had one of those for me,” Adrien brushes himself off as the kidnapped stumbles to the ground.

“Weren’t you never allowed out of the house?” Marinette asks as Damian steps forward to pull the kidnapper's arms behind their back.

“Exactly,”

“Not that this isn't riveting,” Damian says in the most bored tone, turning to the kidnapped, “Who hired you?”

“Garbeil Agreste sent me to fetch his son,”

“Yeah, here we call that kidnapping,” Adrien snarks back, “Great can’t the guy just leave me alone? What's his problem it’s like-”

“Nope!” Damian drops the kidnapper walking away, “Not today! Not again!”

“... well that's just rude,” Adrien huffs as someone calls the police.

“Don’t worry,” Marinette smiles, “As I was trying to tell you I have a plan,”

 ---

 “MARINETTE!”

“Hm wonder what that could be about,” Marinette flips the page, continuing to read peacefully while seated for breakfast with the rest of the Waynes.

“Dupain-Cheng I know you are responsible for this,” Damian leans over her, still in a towel and dripping wet, oh and with pink hair that bits kinda important.

“You did this to him?” Jason laughs, not so subtly taking pictures with glee.

“Relax it’s temporary dye,” Marinette grabs Damain’s shoulder before he can jump over the table and dismember Jason.

“How temporary?” Damian demands, Marinette just turns to a new page with no drips of water on it.

“Just wash it a few more times and it will come right out,” Damian huffs again stalking out of the room, all eyes on her.

“... I can’t believe you survived that,” Tim says with awe, “Actually even Damians not stupid enough to risk that,”

She’ll ask what he means later.

 ---

 “Temporary Dupain-cheng?” Damian glares at her, still very much pink and still very much angry.

“Alright maybe not,” Marinette tries to suppress a giggle, “It looks good tho,”

“Dupain-cheng you will fix this and you will fix this now,” She’s not lying he does look good and she does blush.

“Well, we could go to the hairdresser-”

“No,” Damian snaps, crossing his arms like it's final.

“Do you trust me to dye your hair myself?”

“Absolutely not,” at least not after this.

“Then you’re stuck like that,” Marinette shrugs, Damian groans sinking into the seat behind him.

“This is all your fault Dupain-cheng,”

“Ha, how long are you going to call me that?” Damian leans forward fixing her with a venomous glare.

“Forever,”

 ---

 “Hey Robin- are you wearing a swimming cap under your hood?” Ladybug cuts herself off trying to take off his hood.

“It’s a lightweight head protector,” Robin grabs her wrist, but Ladybug is stronger.

“Yeah no,” Ladybug pushes his hood off, “It’s a swimming cap, what is killer croc up to something?”

“You’re hilarious,” Robin scoffs looking away as if there isn’t a real smile tugging at his mouth.

“Well I can’t let Chat take all the glory,” Ladybug shrugs coming to sit next to him in what has become their usual spot, “So what's the deal? Gasp did you lose a dare?”

“Did you just say gasp?” Robin asks incredulously, “And no it’s not a dare it’s a rather unfortunate prank,”

“Oh please please tell me they did the same to Batman, Please,” Ladybug his holding both his shoulders, Robin completely turned towards her as she looks at him desperately.

“........ yes,”

 ---

 “Marinette,”

“Yes Bruc-” Marinette chokes then tries to choke down her laugh.

“I feel you may have gotten carried away, I would like to remind you-” 

“So sorry to interrupt,” Marinette interrupts, “But that wasn't me,”

“Are you sure?” Bruce is studying her.

“Yeah I only messed with Damian's  bathroom,” Marinette turns completely towards him, “Were you using Damian's bathroom?”

“No,”

“Then it wasn't me,” Marinette shrugs turning away.

“Then who did it?”

“A true mystery,”

 ---

 “So you’re sure you want me to do this,” Marinette asks again, the dye in one hand Damian sitting in front of her.

“Dupain-Cheng I swear-”

“Ah, if I help you, you have to stop calling me that,” She tells him, pulling the black dye away for extra effect.

“I only call you that because of what you did,” Damian glares at her reflection in the mirror, “If you want to get back in my good graces then do this,”

“Alright, you’re sure you don’t want to keep a little pink?”

“Marinette,”

“Alright, alright,” Marinette ruffles his hair while she can get away with it, “I did like your pink hair,”

“It got in the way of...” He trails off.

“Way of what?”

“Nothing,” Marinette drops it, the topic not the dye.

“Well Damian,” She spreads the dye through his hair, “Welcome to your first step of rebellion,”

Little did either realize how true that was.

--------

no tag list :P

[thedeviousdo]

Chapter 2

Member/Pairing: Junmyeon x Sehun

Genre/Type: Mature, Fluff, Angst

Love was for mortals, not for a Cupid like Sehun who has spent the last several hundred years doing all he could to stay away from the thing he was born to create. All that changed the moment Junmyeon stumbled into his life.

Chapter 1 part 1 part 2

Main story Repairs

Sehun watched the glare from the water make shapes on his painting. He wondered if Junmyeon would find something in it like he would with the art at the exhibit. Probably not.

He had left Junmyeon driving off to his brother’s in a hurry, something about him being locked out of his place. They had barely made it to Junmyeon’s very impressive sleek black motorcycle before his phone was ringing. Sehun had never been a fan of them before, but he could see the appeal as Junmyeon pulled on his leather gloves with an apology and a promise to text him. It wasn’t until Junmyeon was turning the corner that Sehun realized they hadn’t exchanged numbers. 

“Shit,” Sehun grumbled, looking at his painting. He would not toss it into the water this time, he had emptied the trash bin for that very reason.

Maybe he could ask Yixing for Junmyeon’s number in a day or so, somehow bring him into a conversation. The fact that Sehun was conceiving some kind of plan to see some mortal was laughable. But for the first time in a long time he was taken by surprise. Junmyeon had caught his attention and hadn’t let it go for two days now. He just wanted to see if he would feel the same way if he saw Junmyeon now as he had last night… or the night before. 

It wouldn’t be a big deal to ask Yixing now, Sehun thought, looking down at his watch. It was just after noon, so it wasn’t too early to stop by. Yixing did say that he could come by anytime. Sehun took a deep breath, picturing the gallery, the walls lined in art, the stark white lobby. The familiar white noise engulfed him, and he could no longer smell the ocean air, instead picking up the scent of a well-used street. Opening his eyes, he was now standing at the doorway of Yixing’s gallery. 

Peering inside, Sehun saw Yixing standing at a counter, typing away on a white laptop. He glanced around the area before becoming visible and walking inside. He gave a small wave when Yixing looked up at the sound of the door. 

“Three days in a row, you’re becoming a daily occurance.” Yixing smiled as he made his way around the counter to greet Sehun. 

“I won’t make it a habit,” Sehun said with a smile to match Yixing’s. “I actually--”

“Wanted to ask me about Junmyeon?”

Sehun felt his jaw drop. “What? No. Wha- how… did you know?”

Yixing laughed as he put his arm around Sehun’s shoulder. “Sehun, I was one of the longest living Cupids, give me a little credit, please.” He walked them further into the gallery until they reached his office. “What do you want to know about him?” Yixing gestured to one of the oversized cushioned chairs for Sehun to sit in.

“Do you have his number?” Sehun asked, as he took one of the seats. 

“Yes, but I won’t give it to you. That’s something he should do.”

Sehun wanted to roll his eyes but resisted the urge. “How about where he works? He said he ran a library with his brothers.”

Yixing sat down across from Sehun, crossing his arms as he got comfortable. “He told you that?”

“We, um...we had a drink after he was done helping here. We talked for a little bit.”

“He told you about where he worked but didn’t give you his number. Why didn’t he?”

Sehun did roll his eyes this time, he didn’t know why Yixing was acting so protective. He offered information about Junmyeon, so why not give it to him? “He left in a hurry, and we didn’t get a chance to exchange numbers. Do you know where the library is?”

“Yes, but I won’t tell you.” Yixing smiled so large the twin rubies on the top of his cheeks flickered in the light. He held up his hands when Sehun sighed, ready to protest. “That is something he should tell you, he loves that place. I will tell you that he frequents a certain coffee shop most mornings on his way to work.” Yixing grabbed a pen and notepad from the coffee table, making a show of writing something down. “This is the name of it.”

Sehun grabbed the note. “Cloud 9 Coffee Shop.” 

“It’s not far from here.”

++

Junmyeon cleared his search history on his browser, he didn’t need to have a reminder he had tried looking for Sehun’s account. He’d text or call him if he hadn’t rushed off to help stupid Jongdae get into his stupid apartment and left Sehun without getting his number. It wasn’t like he thought anything would happen between them, he probably dated gorgeous models or something. Still would've been nice to have his number. 

“Stupid,” he mumbled.

“What’s stupid?”

Junmyeon jumped in his chair, gasping so hard his breath caught and he started coughing. “Shit, Dae, how long have you been here?”

Jongdae was bent over laughing, glasses pushed to the top of his head so he could wipe at his eyes. “Man, I wish we had cameras in here, that should’ve been recorded.” 

“Ass,” Junmyeon pouted, throwing a highlighter at his brother. 

Jongdae sat down at Baekhyun’s desk, swinging his feet up to rest on the edge. “To answer your question, I’ve been in here for a few minutes. You were just staring at your phone like Baek when he’s really into the book he is repairing.” He smiled, taking a sip of his sparkling water. “So, what’s stupid?”

Junmyeon shrugged. “Nothing just something I did… well, didn’t do.”

“Which was?”

“Don’t you have work to do?” Junmyeon asked, getting to his feet and grabbing his sweater off the back of his chair. He wasn’t really in the mood to hear how Jongdae would make fun of him if he answered his question. 

Jongdae laughed before taking another sip of his drink. “Fine, don’t tell me, and I just got done reshelving the returns, thank you very much.”

“I’ll be back in a bit, I’m gonna take a break.” Junmyeon pulled his sweater on as he left their office, Jongdae already on his phone and yelling his goodbye. 

The coffee shop wasn’t far from the library, just a few minutes walk, so he was there in no time. Junmyeon entered the familiar shop, taking a deep breath of the rich scent of coffee and chocolate. Another reason he loved the place so much: they paired different flavored small chocolates with drinks from the menu. He had tried each one more than once.

He took his usual seat in the corner near the window looking over the busy street. He could just make out the park from where he sat, patches of green grass visible. He was happy it was spring, he always enjoyed watching everything blossom. 

“This seat taken?”

Junmyeon snapped his head to the side at the voice, eyes widening when he saw Sehun dressed in all black, looking like he’d just stepped off the runway, standing in front of him. “You.”

Sehun smiled. “And you.” He gestured towards the empty chair in front of Junmyeon, who nodded quickly. “Thanks, I didn’t feel like standing and drinking my coffee.”

“What are you doing here?”

He smiled again, raising his cup. “Same thing as you it seems, then again it is a coffee shop.”

Junmyeon felt his cheeks warm. He wanted to kick himself, of course Sehun would be here for coffee. He was smarter than this. “I know...I just...I’ve never seen you here before and I was just thinking about y--” Junmyeon swallowed the word with his coffee, almost spitting it out when it burned his tongue. Seriously, he couldn’t think clearly with this man around.

Sehun watched him for a few moments, letting him collect himself. “I’ve actually never been here before, figured I’d try it out. I’m glad you decided to as well.”

Junmyeon felt his stomach do a little flip at the way Sehun was looking at him. He had a small smile on his lips, obviously enjoying himself, amused as he watched Junmyeon. He just couldn’t believe Sehun was here when only minutes ago he was thinking about missing the opportunity to see him again. And now here he was, sitting here in all his handsome glory.

“Here.” Sehun pushed a small piece of paper across the table towards him. “My number. Just in case you have to run out again.”

“Oh,” Junmyeon said, taking the paper. “Sorry about the other night, I didn’t mean to leave in such a rush.”

Sehun shook his head. “It’s alright. I should've gotten your number sooner.” He could have just said his number out loud, but there was something inside of him that wanted Junmyeon to have something from him. He stopped himself from shaking his head at his own ridiculousness, being happy about this mortal folding his note and putting it into his pocket delicitley. “Did the emergency get taken care of?”

Junmyeon rolled his eyes, emergency, he still wanted to slap Jongdae’s head. “Yeah, he wasn’t locked out of his place for too long. Though he acted like his fish were going to die if he didn’t feed them that very moment.”

Sehun smiled as he watched the obvious memory play behind Junmyeon’s amused eyes. “I’m an only child, but I’d say my friend Minseok is like a brother...a very annoying older brother that likes to pester me and point out how much smarter he is.” He wasn’t lying, not that he knew of having a sibling but it didn’t stop his stomach from lurching. There were always half truths he was giving to Junmyeon. 

“That’s exactly what us older brothers are supposed to do.” Junmyeon pulled out his phone, tapping a few times till he got to the picture he wanted. “This is Jongdae, and Baekhyun. Baek is more of an adopted brother, my mother became his guardian when he was 15.”

Sehun sat forward, a smile already forming on his lips as he gazed down at the picture. The three of them were sitting around a campfire, Jongdae was in a mid laugh pointing to Junmyeon who was trying to blow out a marshmallow on fire. Baekhyun was off to the side watching them as he ate his s’mores with a hint of a smile on his face. “Of all the pictures you could choose, you go with the one of you burning the Hell out of that poor marshmallow?”

Junmyeon looked down at the picture, “It’s really the perfect picture of all of us...or what we are like. Jongdae is loud and happy, while Baekhyun is a little off to the side but trying hard to not show he cares.”

“And you?” Sehun asked looking up at him under his bangs. 

“I’ll always try to fix things I guess.” Junmyeon sighed as he turned his phone off and sat back in his chair. “That and I really do burn those things more often than not.”

++

“You paint?” Junmyeon kicked a rock out of their path as they walked through one of his favorite parks. It had little stone sculptures that the college nearby would switch out every so often from student artists. 

“I try to, though I hardly ever finish anything.” 

This was the third time they had met up in the last two weeks, and he was finally being more himself around Sehun, making witty comments and speaking in actual complete sentences where he wasn’t saying ‘um’ every few seconds. It helped that Sehun saw him as a friend. Once Junmyeon settled on the fact that Sehun would never be interested in him romantically, he had stopped acting like a complete buffoon around him. Sehun deserved someone who was not only as good looking as he was but also had a real direction in life, with a big shiny office and title. Not someone like Junmyeon, who spent most of his time working in a dusty library, or looking after his brothers in some way. 

So he was Sehun’s friend, and he was completely and utterly fine with that. He knew Sehun was new to the city, so he didn’t have that many friends to hang out with. Junmyeon was just happy he was one of the few he chose to spend time with. Even if he was sure Sehun probably had someone he called his own, spent time differently than the way they were now. But it didn’t stop him from smiling as he looked at Sehun.He enjoyed the way Sehun viewed things, as if he has seen things happen hundreds of times. There was such a simple wisdom he seemed to have about the world, unlike Junmyeon, who constantly found something he didn’t know about in the world around him. He must look so naive to Sehun.

“Junnie?”

Junmyeon shook his thoughts away at Sehun’s recent nickname for him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked if you’ve ever painted?”

“Oh no, I have a love for the arts but not a talent for them.” He laughed, thinking about his few attempts in the past. “I did one of those drinking art classes with my brothers once. It didn’t turn out that bad, but it looks better after having several drinks.”  

“Maybe you were meant to pose for it and not create it then,” Sehun said softly, pushing his hands into his pants pockets and looking off in another direction.

“Hardly,” he mumbled, feeling his ears warm. They walked in silence for another few minutes till they reached the deserted parking lot where Junmyeon’s bike was. “Do you have any plans for the night?”

Sehun shook his head, shrugging his broad shoulders. “I was going to see if you’d like to join me for dinner...if you didn’t already have plans.” 

Junmyeon bit his lip. He had planned on making a big pot of stew to bring Jongdae and Baekhyun at work tomorrow. Sure they could cook on their own, but he knew if he didn’t bring it, they would probably live off instant noodles for most of the week. “I actually have things out to make dinner  tonight.” He watched as his answer seemed to deflate Sehun, his shoulders lowering with a slight nod. “You can come over to my place instead...um, if you wanted.”

Sehun’s head shot up, a smile instantly on his lips. “I’d like that.”

Junmyeon smiled back. “Okay, if you want to follow me back to my pla…” His words trailed off when he saw something flash across Sehun’s face. “What is it?”

“I, uh, didn’t drive here...I-.”

“Took a cab?”

Sehun nodded quickly, “Yes a cab, I took a cab here. I can take one to your place or back to For Life to get my car.” His stomach tightened at the lie, but it wasn't like he could say he teleported here, not unless he wanted Junmyeon to run as far away as he could. 

“For Life? Why is it at the marina?”

Sehun shrugged, a small smile on his lips. "That’s where my yacht is." He watched as Junmyeon gave a little snort of laughter, lips thinning as he tried to hold it in. "Something amusing?"

"Who...who just says they have a yacht? As if it’s a normal everyday thing.” Junmyeon ran a hand through his hair. He of course knew Sehun had money, he had seen the sleek sports car he had driven the last time they met up, not to mention his model-like expensive wardrobe. But he must have serious money if he owned a yacht. What was Sehun even doing hanging out with someone like him? Friendship or not, there was already a huge difference between them. 

“Junnie?” Sehun asked softly, brushing his fingers against Junmyeon’s hand for a moment to get his attention. He had been watching whatever thought process was warring inside Junmyeon’s mind for several seconds now. If his eyes didn’t look a little worried, Sehun would’ve thought he looked unbelievably cute right now, his bottom lip pouting perfectly, making his chin crinkle. But Sehun could tell that whatever Junmyeon was thinking wasn’t the happiest thing, not the way his rich brown eyes seemed to have lost a little light. 

Then Junmyeon shook his head, putting a smile on his face as he turned to his bike. He opened the small cargo area on the side of the bike and took out a spare helmet. “Dinner won’t cook itself, and a second pair of hands would be helpful,” Junmyeon said, handing the helmet to a stunned Sehun. “I can drive us to my place, and later I can either drive you home or you can call a cab.”

Sehun watched as Junmyeon pulled on his own helmet, taking a moment to tug the zipper up his  worn jacket. “I’ve never been on a bike before?”

Junmyeon wiggled his fingers into his gloves. “Are you afraid?” He looked up when he was answered with silence. Sehun’s usual strong demeanor seemed to have disappeared, instead he looked young and uncertain as his fingers moved the helmet in his hands. It was the first time Junmyeon had seen Sehun look so small and unsure. He took a step forward, taking the helmet from Sehun’s fingers and putting into place on his head. “Just hold onto me and move along with me. I’ll tell you when we are turning so that you know to lean your body a certain way.” He smiled as Sehun bent himself lower so that Junmyeon could put the helmet on better and tighten the straps under his chin. 

Junmyeon settled on the bike moments later, bringing it to life as he brought a hand out to Sehun. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Sehun took a deep breath as he took Junmyeon’s hand, it was softer than he had expected. He quickly let go of his hand, ignoring the way his fingers tingled and took his seat behind him. He tentatively placed his hands on Junmyeon’s hips, feeling the vibration of the bike through Junmyeon’s body. 

“Don’t be so stiff, you’re acting like you almost died on one of these,” Junmyeon joked as he brought Sehun’s hands around to his stomach, making Sehun lean into his back. 

“Maybe I did in a past life,” Sehun retorted in Junmyeon’s ear once he was nuzzled into his back. 

Junmyeon laughed as he pushed the stand up and revved the engine. “Hold on tight.”

++

If Junmyeon tried hard enough, he could still feel the warmth from Sehun’s hands the other night. Just the mere thought of the way it felt to have his arms around his waist was enough for Junmyeon’s stomach to start to knot. He groaned as he rolled over in his bed and buried his head into his pillow. Friends, just friends.

Sehun had clung tightly to him the whole 15 minutes it took to drive them to Junmyeon’s house, burrowing his face into the crook of his neck during every turn. Then there were the little touches here and there while Sehun had helped him make dinner. He would brush Junmyeon’s hand when taking more vegetables to cut, or place his hand on his shoulder when passing by to grab things from the fridge. Needless to say, Junmyeon hardly breathed the entire night. He had almost been relieved when Sehun insisted on calling a cab once it was time for him to head home.

He needed to get a hold of himself, not let his mind wander off the way it was now. Sehun was probably just a touchy person, he would be like that with everyone surely. Junmyeon needed to stop thinking about Sehun.

Maybe if he could decipher the looks from Sehun, or maybe if he got more from him about his life. So far he only knew the bare minimum about Sehun, he always seemed to drive the conversation away from himself. Maybe if Junmyeon knew a little more, understood Sehun a little more it wouldn’t leave his mind to wonder to him constantly. 

Junmyeon closed his eyes with a deep sigh as he imagined Sehun’s dark gaze once more.

++

Sehun looked down at his hands, another wave of tingles tickled him from his palm to the tips of his fingers. A soft whisper sounded in his mind: Junmyeon. Junmyeon was thinking about him again. He had been since Sehun had gone home with him the other night. Not like Sehun hadn’t been doing the same. 

“What is with that smile?”

Sehun turned around at the voice, finding his old friend Minseok standing in the doorway that led to the lower cabins of his yacht, his almond-shaped eyes crinkling as he gave Sehun a cheeky smile. The last time Sehun had seen Minseok was over 10 years ago, a blink of an eye in Cupid time. His hair was longer now, pitch black strands held behind his ears, a few pieces falling into his eyes. He was in white tunic and loose cream-colored linen pants, looking like he belonged on the yacht, spending the day sipping champagne. 

“I wasn’t smiling,” Sehun said, dropping his hands and picking up his paintbrush again. 

Minseok pushed off the doorframe and walked up to Sehun’s side, looking over the painting. “Is this why you were smiling? Whomever this is you’re painting?”

Sehun looked down at the drying paint on his canvas. He had been so lost in adding a kaleidoscope of colors to it that he never looked at what he was creating. It was obviously a portrait in the making, there was a general outline to the face but no real features yet, just a set of familiar, warm, chocolate-colored eyes. 

“I, uh, it’s noone.” Sehun placed the paintbrush down on the table covered in tubes of paint. He grabbed a cloth and quickly draped it over the painting. “What are you doing here?”

Minseok watched him for a long moment before looking off to the ocean, “It’s been a bit since I saw you, and when Yixing let me know you were out here, I thought I would pop in.”

“You talked to Yixing?”

Minseok nodded with a warm smile. “I talk to him often. Just because he turned his bow in, doesn’t mean he isn’t still my brother. I’ve known him for eons, and I will for many more years to come.”

Sehun watched the happy memories pass over his friend's face. “I’m happy to hear it.”

“Glad to hear you are making friends. You need them.”

“What? I have friends,” Sehun said, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned to look down at his friend. 

“Who?” 

Sehun rolled his eyes. “I have you and…”

Minseok nodded, raising one finger. “That’s one, go on.”

Sehun mumbled a curse under his breath. “There’s Kyungsoo and um, Yixing?” He wanted to kick himself as what he said sounded more like a question than a statement. Minseok smiled up at him, clearly amused. Correction: he wanted to kick Minseok.

“And what about the person you sought Yixing out for?”

“Junmyeon?” he asked quickly, closing his eyes at his outburst. He really hadn’t wanted to bring him up, not when he didn’t know what Junmyeon was to him...what he was to Junmyeon. He looked down at his hands as they tingled slightly, not as strong as before but there was still a faint whisper of Junmyeon’s name in his head.

“A mortal, from what Yixing has said. You’ve never interacted with them before, other than marking them.”

Sehun shrugged, inspecting his nails. “He’s different, and I’ve only been getting to know him for a few weeks.”

Minseok nodded. “Befriending a mortal isn’t a bad thing, you know.”

Sehun startled slightly when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He swiped the screen to life, and bit his cheek to stop himself from smiling when he saw what it was. Junmyeon had texted him

, asking to meet for coffee. Sehun looked at the time on his phone. It was nearly dinner time, a little late for coffee. Sehun did smile then--Junmyeon had been thinking about him all day and had finally broken down and asked him out. He typed his reply before looking back to his friend. “Yeah, I guess I’m starting to see that it’s not such a bad thing.”

++

Junmyeon rubbed his stomach, he was so full he was ready to burst. Sehun had readily agreed to meet him, but instead of the rushed offer of coffee, he suggested dinner instead. Neither had anything in mind, so they opted to walk downtown to the street markets lined with food stalls. They had to have grabbed food from at least seven different stalls.

He stepped into Sehun’s side as they passed through a crowded part of the sidewalk, smiling when he felt Sehun’s hand on his back. He let himself linger in the light musk-filled embrace a moment before taking a step away. There was a look that passed over Sehun’s face when their eyes met, again he wished he knew what those looks meant. He wished for a lot of things when it came to Sehun.

“Thank you for dinner.” Junmyeon smiled, “Much better than just coffee.”

Sehun mirrored his smile with one of his own. Junmyeon cheeks were still a light shade of red from the heat of his spicy rice cakes, and seemed to shine when he smiled. Sehun had spent most of the night trying to think of things to make him keep making him smile. Which was hard because Sehun never considered himself funny. But he continued to try, he liked the way Junmyeon’s eyes would crinkle and disappear when he found something truly amusing. Or when the laugh would end in a small giggle and nose scrunching, that was Sehun’s favorite. 

“You should’ve let me pay though, I am the oldest.” Junmyeon mumbled as they started walking again.

Sehun wanted to say that he was actually the eldest between them, if they wanted to get technical. But that was something he couldn’t say...something he shouldn’t say. How would he explain it? What could he possibly say to Junmyeon that wouldn’t result in him running away from him, not believing him or maybe even worse... believing him and thinking he was some kind of monster. Even if Junmyeon didn’t think he was crazy, he wouldn’t want anything to do with him after knowing what he was. Sehun was going to live… well maybe forever, he wouldn’t age or die or change like Junmyeon. Who would want to live a life with someone like that? 

His heart felt heavy in his chest, as happy as he had been the past several weeks with Junmyeon and their growing relationship, he knew it wouldn’t last. But maybe he could be selfish, just a little bit longer, just once in his long life he really did something for himself. He felt their fingers touch just as a tingling sensation started in his hand. He looked over at Junmyeon to see him look quickly away, bringing his hands into his pockets. “I’ll let you pay next time.” Yes, he can be selfish just a little longer. 

He watched as a small smile took up the corner of Junmyeon’s lips. The realization that he wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss the tiny smile had Sehun stopping in his tracks. Junmyeon stopped walking a moment later, pushing out his bottom lip in a pout when he turned to look back at Sehun, noticing he wasn't beside him.

“Something wrong?” Junmyeon asked turning around fully to face Sehun properly. He stopped himself from reaching out to touch his hand when he didn’t get an answer. Sehun was looking at him with his usual unreadable dark eyes. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there on the sidewalk, or how the space between them grew smaller over that time. All of a sudden he was close enough to smell the soft musk of Sehun’s cologne once more, almost feeling his body heat. Coupled with the way Sehun was looking at him, it was making it hard for Junmyeon to think past anything that wasn’t Sehun. That wasn’t a need to be even closer to him.

There was no way Sehun was looking at him the way Junmyeon’s mind and body was making him think he was. He didn’t look down at Junmyeon’s lip right now, not at least in the way he thought he was looking at them. Even if Junmyeon didn’t lie to himself and actually admit that he wanted Sehun to be looking at him that way, to be wanting to kiss him. That there was no one else on the busy street with them at that moment. It was something he knew wasn’t happening. It was only something nice to fantasize about late at night when he was alone, but it wasn't reality. Junmyeon shook his head as he took a step back. Being that close to Sehun wasn’t helping Junmyeon from being any less of a fool for him.

“I um there’s a shop near by I wanted to look at.” Junmyeon rubbed his neck as he turned around, nearly bumping into a passing stranger. “Oh sorry” He mumbled to the stranger before starting to walk. “I um it’s Baekhyun’s birthday next month, and I wanted to get a jump start on finding a gift for him.” He gave a glance over his shoulder towards Sehun. He was looking down at his hands, a small frown on his lips. “Is that alright? I can go another time or if you just wanted to lea-.”

“Lead the way, Junnie.” Sehun cut in, looking up through his black hair, smiling after a moment when Junmyeon nodded and started walking again.