#and i also have all the spots picked for Sunrise Spring and two of the posts halfway made too

[postmakerkiwi]

at this point i really need to just get the Drafts button changed to say All The WIP Soundscape Posts . this is the state of thjings

yes those were all sitting in my drafts from yesterday. i made 8 total in the span of One Afternoon .

[navegandoaciegas]

Hay(wire)

Kinktober 1/31 : quickie, face fucking, facial.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: smut, explicit language, unprotected vaginal sex, sex in a barn, oral sex, facial, set after the events of CA:TWS.

Yeah, I actually did it 💀

A/N: day 1 of @itgetsdarksometimes35 spooky challenge + Kinktober.

Bucky despises you.

He loathes how his heart rate picks up whenever he sees you, or how the pit in his stomach grows larger when he doesn't. He can’t stand the way the other farmers talk about you and look at you, but mostly he hates how you bite your lips and clench your thighs when he catches you staring, the tangy scent that floods his senses when he’s close to you, and how you never question why an American veteran would be picking hayballs in the Romanian countryside.

He hates your kindness, the way you hang onto his every word when he describes the night sky, your stained hands and the flowers you weave in your hair, your nipples showing through your white t-shirts, his blood draining from his brain and shooting straight to his cock just looking at you.

You bring out the beast, the soldat lingering inside some recess in his mind, the side of him that wants to own you, and ruin you for everyone else.

You bother him, talking and being nice. Smiling. Cracking jokes. Eating your lunch with him when the other boys are too afraid to approach him. Filling the silence with your stories while he munches on buni’s sarmalele and merely grunts in acknowledgement. Bringing him water when he sweats buckets under the sweltering sun. Shamelessly flirting like you find him attractive.

As if a pretty girl like you could ever want him, he thinks, with the stench of horse shit clinging to his skin and oozing out of his pores.

He scoffs at himself, and stacks another hayball, willing himself to forget all about you.

-

You know he hears your steps on the cobblestones before you enter the barn where he’s stacking hay in neat piles, like he always does before going to bed.

“You can continue this tomorrow, I’m sure buni won’t mind if you take a break.” you quip, closing the door and leaning on the wooden stall.

You eye his tanned skin, reddened by the scorching August sun, the strain on his sweaty long sleeved t-shirt that clings to his bulging biceps, the outline of his back muscles as his chest heaves.

There’s something animalistic about him, something that makes your stomach churn and your pussy tingle. When his t-shirt trails up, you can’t help but observe the hard planes of his abs and the coarse, black hair that trail them.

“I’m doing what she pays me for, and so should you.”

He dismisses you with a curt nod as he keeps lifting the hay and stacking it away for the winter.

By that time, you’ll both be long gone, so you might as well make the most of what you have.

“I’m done picking plums, if you must know.” you state, an unimpressed look making its way on your face. “You work twelve hours everyday, and you won’t drink her țuică or smoke the cigarettes she gives the other boys.” you say, approaching him slowly until you’re standing in front of him, so close you can see the darkness in his eyes and smell his pungent sweat, “She worries about you, you know.”

Your eyes stray from his, traveling down to his plump lips. He swallows thickly and inhales a sharp breath.

“I worry too.” you continue, stalking closer.

His manly, musky scent is intoxicating, and you feel short of breath, heat and slick pooling in your panties.

“Always working, never having any fun. Life must be very lonely for you.”

There’s static energy, or maybe magic, between you two.

“My life’s just fine.”

He’s gruff as always, but you hear his voice waver when his eyes drop to your own lips, and he finds them parted, and so inviting.

You shrug, feeling your skin crawl with anticipation, want, need. “I know, I’m just saying, I could make it less… lonely.”

You see him cave. You know he wants you, and he’s never exactly subtle about it. But when your hand reaches for his left arm, the spell shatters, the air gets sucked out of the little barn, and the growl that he lets out terrifies you and excites you at the same time.

“Stay the fuck away from me.” he snarls, snatching his arm away from you. He looms over you, rage burning behind his steel blue eyes. “Or-”

He interrupts himself, taking a step back and restraining whatever wild instinct is clouding his judgement. The veins on his neck swell up, and the smirk on your lips and your tangy smell only add to his irritation.

You know you shouldn’t prod. You know he could crack your skull in half without breaking a sweat.

But you���ve also seen him bathed in spring’s pollen, cooing at newborn chicks and patting their feathers, whispering soft words in a language you don’t speak. You’ve seen him kissed by the summer’s sunrise, leaning his head on uică Dan’s horse while petting his mane, and humming to mătușă Ana’s cow while milking her.

You’ve seen him sneak outside your room every morning for the past two months to leave wildflowers on your doorstep, and you know he’s the one who carries you to your bed when you fall asleep on the deck chairs outside, after stargazing together for hours, and pecks a lingering kiss on your forehead, whispering to you, his sweet girl, to sleep tight.

So no, you’re not afraid, and very turned on.

“Or what, big guy? What are you going to do?”

Jaw clenched, fists so tight his knuckles are white, nostrils flared. He closes his eyes, heaves a heavy sigh and mutters a ‘fuck that’ under his breath, and in a blur he’s on you.

But he’s not hitting you, no.

Just like you predicted, he goes haywire, feral, his mouth is on yours, his tongue prods your lips, his hands roam everywhere, tangling your hair and kneading the flesh of your ass.

He bites your bottom lip, and you taste metal on your tongue. A moan escapes you when one of his thick thighs comes between your own, and your core rubs against the rough material of his jeans.

“Took you long enough.” you tease him when he allows you to catch your breath.

He’s sweaty, rough, his clothes soiled by the ground he spends his days working on, and you find that you don’t care, that you want him to dirty you and ruin you in this barn, with hay poking your skin and cicadas screaming outside.

You’re staring at each other, panting, eyes swallowed by darkness.

He doesn’t answer, never speaks much anyways. He’s on you again, his hand on your throat, and it doesn’t hurt but it’s tight enough to make its threatening presence known.

Your walls flutter around nothing.

The other hand, splayed on your back, guides you as you grind yourself on his thigh. It’s been two months of sexual tension, and it’s about to explode.

You reach for his t-shirt, eager to feel his skin against yours, but he stops you, and the look in his eyes, hard yet pleading, is enough to make the protest die in your throat.

Your own shirt is discarded, maybe shred to pieces. His touch is bruising and desperate as he explores your body like it’s his last day on Earth.

He nips and sucks your skin, surely leaving dark marks behind, rolling and pinching your nipples between his fingers, swirling his tongue around them until you’re pushing him off of you.

“I need you.” you moan, shrieking when his teeth bite down on your shoulder.

Pain is a bucket of cold water on your burning skin, a contrast to the pleasure he brings you, and yet it doesn’t diminish it, but amplify it until his teeth on your flesh are all you want.

He lets himself fall on the hay, dragging you down with him. It irks you, pokes you, and quite frankly, it doesn’t smell like roses.

But it will do.

He hooks his fingers around the waistband of your leggings and hastly drags them down to your knees, not even bothering to get rid of them.

When he pulls on your hair and spins you around, it’s not romantic. When he forces you face down, ass up, it’s not pretty. When he spits on his hand and roughly shoves two fingers inside you, making you wince, it’s not soft and caring.

“I’ll take care of you later, need to be inside you now, doll. I’ve wanted you since the day I first saw you.” he murmurs.

You hear him fumble with his belt as he keeps rubbing your clit and pumping his calloused fingers in and out of you. “It’s been so long.” he adds, as an afterthought, while he strokes his cock and gets himself ready for you.

The hay scratches your cheeks, and you feel his intense presence as he kneels behind you, ready to take you like an animal in heat.

“Please.” you whine, wiggling your hips and brushing against him, “I need you to fuck me now, James.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, and lines himself up with your entrance, teasing your folds and smearing your arousal on his tip. You feel him prod your tight hole and you brace yourself for the pain, but when he breaches you, your walls stretch perfectly around him, accomodating him, and all you feel is a dull burn that soon gives way to pleasure.

Moaning at the fullness of his heavy weight inside you, you try to bounce on him, but his hands on your hips halt your movement. He's as rough as you expected him to be, and the coil in your core is unbearable.

“Fuck, you’re so damn tight.” he groans, picking up a faster pace, slamming in and out of you. “Made for me, so good.”

He pulls on your hair, and the pain shoots straight to your cunt, making your walls clench on him.

Arching your back you meet his harsh thrusts, feeling his cock hitting that spot inside you, the one that makes the pressure build impossibly fast every time he bumps against it.

It’s all too much and not enough, and when he tugs on your hair again, your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You don’t feel the hay scratching you anymore.

“Fuck me harder.” you plead with tears streaming down your face, revelling in the lewd squelching sounds of your pussy and the slapping ones of his balls hitting your folds.

He never talks, and he won’t start now, you realize. You don’t care though, because all you can think about is his other hand snaking between your legs and furiously rubbing circles around your swollen clit.

You mewl when he snaps his hips and his tip hits your cervix. “I wanna hear those sweet noises pretty girl, wanna hear you fall apart on my cock, only for me.”

He brings you high, and higher, and the pressure grows more and more, until the knot unravels.

“Cum on my cock, fuck, cum all over me sweet girl. I missed this so much.”

When the dam breaks, you feel months of sexual tension release, and the tight coil inside your belly snaps. Your limbs jerk as a hot surge of electricity assails you, and you gush all over his cock, feeling your pussy constrict him in a vice.

He rides your aftershock, pummeling inside you while icy cold claws your every nerve ending. You’re drooling out of your mouth as a man you barely know brutally fucks you like a beast, but in the hazy state you’re in, you couldn’t care any less.

“I’m close.” he gnarls, tightening the hold on your hips, ��Where can I-?

“On my face.” You turn and peek over your shoulder just in time to see the shock in his eyes. “I like it that way.” And I’m not on birth control.

When his thrusts become sloppier and his breathing erratic, he pulls out of you and stands. You turn around on your knees and face his thick cock, half wondering how he could make it fit inside your cunt.

“Open those pretty lips of yours babydoll, I want to fuck your mouth too.”

You comply, parting your lips. He shoves himself inside you, clutching your hair and neck as he fucks your mouth relentlessly, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

You can’t breathe anymore, but he keeps going, moving your head along his length. You taste him on your mouth, heady and salty, feeling every vein and ridge of him.

You look up, and seeing him all disheveled, hair sticking out everywhere and red faced, lights the fire in your pussy again.

Your hand finds its way between your folds while he holds you down until your nose rubs against the coarse hair on his pubic bones and his balls slap against your chin.

Quickly, he slides out of you, and pumps his cock once, twice. He cums on your face with a moan, painting your lips, cheeks and the tip of your nose with his white hot spurt.

When you open your eyes again, you find him staring at you already, with the most expressive look you’ve ever seen him wear and something akin to a smile dancing on his lips.

“God, doll. I didn’t even know I could do that.” he confesses, all doe eyed. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, babygirl. I’m gonna keep fucking that tight pussy of yours all summer.”

You let out a giggle when he hoists you over his shoulder and the hay that’s stuck to your clothes flies everywhere.

“Gonna fuck you until you’re sore, until you’re sobbing and you beg me to stop. Fill you up over and over again. Make this pussy all mine. No more other farm boys, you hear me?”

He keeps his word that night, and you keep yours all August long, and you know neither of you want this summer to ever end.

—-

Day 1 of Kintober done. Join my taglist if you want to be tagged in more :) (link on my blog)

Please leave some feedback :)

[cinnamonest]

Okay but imagine... adoptive mother reader with Chongyun, Bennett, Razor and Xingqiu. This can be linked to that thought you once posted about the boys (Chongyun and Xingqiu) barely young adults and reader being something of a Guhua expert or an exorcist (and a little bit of those mommy headcanons lol)

So, this is settle with the boys a little bit younger, reader is a promising adventurer who despise being so young (early 20s) She have traversed half of Teyvat and made a name of herself. She comes back to Monstadt to see old faces and such.

She first arrives to Liyue and decides to rest for the day. She's strolling around the harbour, watching what's new and saying hi to old friends, when two boys running at high speed crashes against her and fall to the ground. Being the nice person she is, she helps them up and offers to take care of their bruises, to which they reluctantly accept bcs you have to always be wary of strangers.

While she patches them up, she starts to tell them stories of all the places she's been, noticing how the kid with amber eyes shine at the mention of she being in contact with a Real Guhua master (even if it was for only a month or so, but it is still impressive) and that she has a couple of books about the art and such.

Seeing his friend's happy reaction, the other boy with baby blue hair shares a bit of himself, and the small gasp that he lets out when the gentle traveler tells him she has seen a demon before! And even better, she got a charm from a successful exorcist from a far away land! How cool is that!?

After taking care of them, reader buys them a treat and guides them towards the inn she's staying to fetch up the items brought up in the conversation. When she gets back and gift them the items, the excitement that overcomes them was enough to jump and hug the kind lady, but the emotional moment was short lived as a young man similar to the kid with prussian blue hair and a older man with the same cat-like eyes as the aspiring exorcist approach them and retrieve their brother and son respectively, thanking the adventurer for looking out after them.

As morning comes and reader leaves at the crack of sunrise, it finally register in her mind that she never got the name of those two cute kids. Meanwhile, said pre-teens were musing about the same thing as the female, but what she didn't know is that her actions would actually leave a mark on these two for the years to come.

The travel from Liyue to Monstadt was beautiful but tiresome. A wave of nostalgia punches her on the stomach as the first batch of small lamp grass caught her attention, signaling that she has finally settled foot on the wildest part of the realm of freedom.

Trees grow thicker and small springs sprinkled here and there, the young female's pace quickens as she comes to terms that she won't make it today to the city, and it's wiser to camp out outside Wolvendom. As beautiful and relaxing the scenery was, she has enough sense to not turn a blind eye to the several claw marks and noises that she has spotted and hear throughout her walk.

Finally, after almost sprinting for a while now, the exit of the forest makes itself visible, and with a small sigh she slows her pace to walking speed. She was about to reach the Waypoint when a rustle from a nearby bush caughts her attention.

With only slowing down a little bit, she turns her head to the source of the noise, body tense and hand on her dagger just in case it was a Hilichurl or a Wolf. But what a surprise it is, when rather than eyes catching rough grey fur or a mask, a young boy with eyes as sharp as the furred beasts she's being weary of meets her surprised orbs instead. There's a certain curiosity in that ruby gaze, but she couldn't appreciated them more as she took notice of the whole human being in front of her.

What little clothes he had, they were all in a shameful state. The wind picked up and a gust of cold breeze touched the two humans, but only one of them shudder at its touch.

Seeing that, the female removed there coat and slowly, approached the boy. He took a couple of steps back and a snarl arises from his throat, hopping to stop this strange human from getting any closer. The female got the message, and crouched to meet his eyes on a same level.

She extended the hand holding the jacket, and with a patience of a saint, waited until the kid shuffled by his own to sniff the offered item. The female smiled, and was about to say something, until a howl broke the silence, and the boy clutching the jacket jumped from his spot, sprinting at a remarkable speed to were the noise came. He only stopped to turn around a give a small wave to the female, just to dissappear through the dense foliage that compose Wolvendom.

The adventurer dusts her clothes, and wishes the bests of lucks to the kid before returning to her destination.

That night, after finding comfort on one of the lone red tents meant for travelers, the Sound of small footsteps on grass alerts her and she rises from her almost slumber, only to find a small bunch of wolfhooks beside the tent.

Just like how she did in Liyue, when the first rays of sunrise emerged from the horizon, she sets off to the city.

After half a day of walking, the gates of her hometown greets her as she walks down the bridge, a small sigh of happiness escapes her as she takes in the sight of the streets she grew up in.

Her first stop was the to the adventurer's guild. As she greets and waves to old friends, the boisterous laugh of a man caughts her attention, turning her head to look at the source of the voice.

Her eyes widened and a smile just as big formed on her face, she walks towards the two figures in front of the guild's desk, the man being accompanied by a young boy with greyish hair was none than the person who cheered her on following her dreams of travelling all of Teyvat.

She hugs the man without notice and the man is throw off his conversation with the woman behind the desk. The face of the girl, now a young adult, greets him and he couldn't stop the overflowing of his emotions and hugged back the female. She's like a daughter to him, just like how he thinks of a son to the boy looking at them.

They share a couple of words before the female notices the boy besides them. Still being high from finding her mentor, she kneels before the boy and ruffles his hair, presenting herself and informing him that she's and adventurer just like the old man.

The boy's eyes shine at the mention of adventure. Does that mean that he has a mom now!? You do look far younger that his dads, but it's the same, right?

He surprises you when he voices his thoughts, and you chuckled a little at his cute face. You pinch his little nose, and with a smile you tell him you'll are honoured to be his mom, sharing all of your knowledge with him and experience with the outside world.

The boy, Bennett, as he shouted at the top of his lungs after your affirmative, lunged at your still kneeling form and locked his little arms around your neck, securing you in a tight hug. The force made the both of you to fall on the ground, but his happiness was so contagious that you couldn't careless about that.

As the years pass by, and your connection with the four boys strengthen, you saw them grow into strong young men, a feeling of proud sparks at the thought of being one of the big influence for them to reach the point they are now in, as you provided them with all types of knowledge and artifacts that you managed to get in your travels. You do feel like a proud mom of her four sons.

But... as pure as your feelings are, the four young men can't share the same sentiment. Or at least not in the same platonic way. They know that you don't feel the same as them, but you would never deny your boys their happiness, wouldn't you?

So, what would you do, when they finally decide to take action on their feelings, and the prospect of your sons crossings weapons just to have you for themselves is rearing it's head, will you choose one of them?

Or, in a surprise turn of events, they agree on sharing you with each others, as in the end they were taken care of by the same person they addressed as mother, creating a sense of brotherhood between the young males?

(Did you guys noticed that there's almost never a mention of mothers in Genshin? I think everyone has mommy issues lol)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Anon i’ve ascended?? 

Im crying envisioning like. The thing is all these other boys have some sort of army to back them up. Xingqiu’s got rich people guards... bennett has fischl and his dads... razor has a pack of wolves... Chongyun over here by himself just like :)

But also... imagine a poly of four yans at once... fuck there would be no end to your constant suffering bruh

[onceupona-chaos]

The Storm

Notes: So, I did something. Maybe there will be a part II, but I wanted to post this one first and now I can only hope whoever read this, might enjoy it. Also, forgive for any mistakes, English is not my first language, but I wanted to try something knew and practice a little.

Warnings: language, self-harm and slightly NSFW.

Enjoy! 😊

Elain was trying hard to pretend she wasn't picking a fight with a bush after spending the entire afternoon working in a elderly faery's garden. She didn't know how old Arya was and didn't ask either. Despite the wrinkled face that made her expression look grave at first sight, Arya was gentle enough to bring a fresh lemonade cup every few minutes. Even if Elain hadn't finished hers, it would be replaced by a full cup with two ice cubes and the right amount of sugar - and a warm smile from Arya.

So when she had sent word asking if her garden could be fixed, Elain gladly embraced the distraction, even though it didn't seem to be a particular good day for gardening, if the cloudy sky was any indication.

Kneeling on the dirt, she had been digging and pulling for hours now as she tried to get rid of the ivys surrounding the beautiful blooming roses.

Usually her gardening was a pretty distraction - her mind would focus entirely on what she was doing, her hands moving on their own accords, until every single thought that made her throat tighten was nothing but mist in the distance.

But lately something's changed.

Hateful thoughts, old anguishes, almost familiar as any part of her body, and new ones found themselves in her mind, making her remember what she longed to forget. She didn't bother to wear gloves, wanted the feeling of rough rocks and sharp thorns against her skin. Wanted to focus on the physical pain, to be as far away from her own mind as possible.

And yet it wasn't enough to keep those too many thoughts, cravings and needs at bay.

Her frustration grew with each passing second, her work getting sloppy when a thunder filled her ears.

It was definitely not a good day for gardening.

Elain couldn't decide what was worse: that her work no longer pushed her thoughts away or that she was literally fighting a stubborn rose bush, pulling a branch out with both hands and groaning a curse that would make Cassian proud.

Elain pulled and pulled, the branch slowly, Gods, so slowly giving up - and then it broke in half, leaving the part covered in thorns still buried deep in the ground. She didn't hesitate though, just wiped the sweat off of her forehead, grabbed the branch, thorns and all biting her skin, and started again.

When Arya came back once again, the lemonade cup hit the ground.

She looked at Elain, taking in the blood staining her cobalt dress, big red drops running down her hands. "It's nothing to be worried about, it's already healing."

It wasn't a lie. But Arya still insisted that Elain went home, claiming that a beautiful lady like her shouldn't remain covered in blood and sweat. A scream caught in Elain's throat that bagged for a few more minutes of distraction, just a few more. But she knew Arya was thinking about her well being, so she made a gentle smile bloom on her face and thanked her for the limonade.

"Hurry up now or you're going to get caught in the storm."

Indeed, Elain could already smell the rain, the air charged with electricity, the wind colder than usual, the promise of thunder and lighting.

Yet her steps were lingered, heavy as she walked by the vibrants streets of Velaris

When the first drops came… she tilted her head and let them pour over her, only wishing it could wash away every burden in her heart.

It didn't take long for the cold rain to soak her, making her own bones shivered. A walk back to the lake house would took long enough to make her catch a cold and since being stuck in a bed was the last thing she needed, Elain made her way to the town house. It was still empty, but at least she could warm up and wait for the rain to pass by.

Elain had just crossed the front door and immediately sighed as she felt the cozy warmth. She was freeing her hair from the braid, combing it with her fingers, taking in the sitting room of the empty house - and froze. Because that was a very, very light fireplace. She only had time to take a step back when the scent of mist and cedar hit her nose.

_______________

After a long visit to the eyes and ears under his command, one would think Azriel would take a warm bath and go for several hours of sleep to put away the feeling of the cold rain against his wings that had chased him for miles and miles.

He could have winnow into shadows. But he hoped the exhaustion of flying through the storm combined with a hot bath to relax his sore muscles would help his body to give in to some poor, few hours of sleep.

Azriel had just gone out of the bath, his hair still damp, when he heard the front door shutting. A shadow curled around his ear, registering someone's presence, and he made his steps quiet as death, aiming for the sitting room.

He hadn't seen Elain alone since Solstice and even at the few dinners on the river house he still tried to attend, Azriel could barely look her in the eyes, the memory of her pain too much for him to handle.

But there she was.

She was staring at him, wild-eyed, soaked to the bones. He allowed himself to drink the sight of her, let his eyes travel slowly through her face. Usually, in those dinners, he would hardly steal a glimpse in her direction - well aware of Rhysand's eyes almost daring him to challenge his orders. But here, alone… It was exactly this kind of situation he tried so hard to avoid, knowing it would be the death of him.

Azriel's eyes dropped to her body, the wet fabric hanging to every curve, and spotted the dark red stain on her dress. He scanned her furiously, looking for injuries, stooping at her bloody hand. There were only a few drops, the rain must have washed the blood away - but it was enough to make him want to roar at the sight of it, the predatory instincts inside him ready to kill and kill and kill whoever was responsible. Before he could say anything though, Elain blurted, "I… I thought the house was empty."

Her voice was almost a whisper above the rain, but the words hit him with the force of a thunder. Azriel swallowed hard. He knew she wasn't looking for him. Not after Solstice. But the way she'd say it...

Without even thinking, he closed the distance between them. Elain lifted her chin to keep her gaze locked with his.

Even in a filthy, soaking dress, her damp hair grabbing to her neck, her bloody hand… She was so breathtakingly beautiful, so full of light.

He took her hand in his, so delicate between his scarred fingers. The soft skin marked with small scars, no doubt from her gardening. He turned her hand, exposing her palm and saw the multiple, small bruises. His calluses brushed hers as he asked, "What happened."

She was shaking slightly, not only from the cold rain, "Usual gardening."

He couldn't take it. It was some kind of cosmic joke to be in an empty house with her, so many words hanging between them. He wanted her to know them all, but some he didn't know how to say, and others he couldn't .

Azriel almost choked on his own pain. He stared at her, letting every feeling unsaid, his own longing and despair, rise to his eyes, unable to stop it as he whispered, "I'm sorry."

Her doe eyes flickered, and Azriel knew she saw beyond those words. She knew he wasn't talking about her bruised hand still in his, the only connection between their bodies.

And when Elain squeezed his fingers, he knew she understood him. Perhaps not everything, but enough.

Azriel didn't know for how long they stood there, watching each other, their hands still intertwined, the rain pouring outside, the sound of heavy drops hitting the roof interrupted only by the rumble of thunder. Without knowing who moved first, he realized his face was inches from hers, enough to share breath. Elain inclined her head and brushed his nose with hers, the gesture so tender.

A moment later, their mouths collided at last and everything else faded away.

Her mouth was soft against him, and the scent of jasmine, honey and rain filling his nose made his eyes roll back behind his eyelids.

Such a sweet kiss as if The Mother or whoever was wanted Azriel to just have a taste of what he couldn't have. Despite every cell in his body screaming at him, Azriel made to pull away, but Elain held him in place and brushed her tongue against his bottom lip. He moaned her name and yielded himself to her.

The kiss wasn't desperate or frantic as Azriel had imagined it would be for so fucking long. No, the kiss was slow and deep, like pouring honey. Their thongs danced with each other, stroking and caressing.

And her taste… like honey and spring sunrise. He couldn't get enough. He needed more, needed her printed in his very bones, until their souls intertwined.

He was breathing hard, one of her delicate hands wandered across his chest and arms, the skin beneath her fingers burning. Elain traced every muscle, every inch of tattoo ink, as if to reaffirm he was real, that he was there. She buried her other hand into his hair, pulling slightly, and Azriel let out a sound between a moan and a purr, barely audible above the rain.

The world faded away and there was only her, only her mouth, her scent, her body. He needed her closer, wanted to merge himself with her so they would never be parted.

Everything about that kiss was so sweet and so sensuous as if it was a song sent from heaven to lure him to the deepest of hells, where every sinful idea would take form. It was his paradise and ruin, and he was utterly, thoroughly hypnotized.

He'd lovers, many throughout the centuries. But he never felt so drowned, so lost and found at the same time. Nothing had ever felt so good, nothing. Azriel could only pray to the old gods that at least one part of him would be his at the end of it.

They continued that taunting dance, touching, exploring, seducing. Their tongues met stroke for stroke until Elain parted and sucked on his bottom lip, and any sane part of him ceased to exist.

Azriel groaned and his hands moved from her waist to find that generous, gorgeous backside of hers, squeezing possessively with both hands, making her moan into his mouth. Elain ondulated her hips, pressing herself against him, and gasped when she felt exactly how much she was affecting him. How much power she had over him. A small smile curved her lips and Azriel traced it with the tip of his tongue.

More more more

Azriel could feel her shaking in anticipation, smell her arousal in the air.

He was going to devourer her inch by inch. He was going to -

Elain suddenly pulled back just enough to look at him in the eyes, and Azriel almost fell on his knees. Sheer desire was printed on her face, those pink, perfect lips swollen, making his mouth watering. A blush stained her cheeks, and he wondered what other places he could make her blush. He needed to know them all.

But all of that was nothing compared to that look on her face. The honey-brown almost entirely gone, her eyes flashing with molten desire as if those black expanded pupils were windows to her soul and his particular way through.

Both of them were breathing each other's air. Elain stared and stared and stared at him as if she was undoing every single wall and shield he'd ever raised.

Azriel let her. Didn't need them with her anyway.

He cupped her face with his hand and brushed her cheek with his thumb, making her shiver. His eyes never left hers, and he could almost see a bridge of light and dark taking form between their souls, honey-brown and hazel in each end.

When his thumb moved to trace her bottom lip, Elain cupped his hands with hers, mouth parting slightly before she kissed the tip of his finger. Azriel didn't know who he was, where he was, because there was only her, only that female accepting every part of him.

Then Elain sucked his thumb into the wet heat of her mouth. Pure desire ran through his body like a lighting straight to his groin, and he had to brace his other hand on the wall to keep himself standing, to not fall on his knees.

Elain let go of his thumb, her eyes glimmering in a way he'd only dreamed about. She inclined her head, baring her throat, and Azriel knew he was in deep shit.

He couldn't help the sound that came out from somewhere deep inside of him, his nostrils flaring at the sight of her delicate, creamy skin covering her pulse point and totally exposed to him - and only him.

Offer and permission.

A thunder rumbled outside, but all Azriel could hear was his blood singing her name as he lowered his head and brushed his nose along the side of her neck, breathing greedily and letting her scent fill his nose, his lungs. Elain arched a little, asking for more.

More

Azriel then kissed her neck tenderly. Wanted to savor every second of it, every taste of her. Didn't want to rush this - not with her, not when he had the chance. He prayed that the storm would never end, wanted to take his time, worship every part of her body until one stroke at the right place would be all that would take to make her come. Hard.

He kissed the spot beneath her ear and where her neck met her shoulder. Elain's hand tightened, pulling his hair in silent command. Azriel bared his teeth, brushing his canines against her pulse point. He pressed lightly - just enough to make his teeth sink into her skin, claiming her.

Elain moaned louder at the sensation and tightened her hold on his hair - and pure male smugness washed over him. Because he was the one she bared her throat to. It was his mouth on hers, his hands covering her ass. He could already smell his scent on her, mist and jasmine, cedar and honey.

And it was his name she moaned.

"Azriel."

Before Azriel could unleashed himself, he first dropped to his knees.

[aeoncryptic]

Arthur's Day Trip

This is Fluff~ Story after the break.

I also just want to put a big thank you out there for those that looked over this, gave me advice, or just put up with me! <3

Word count: This story is 4,667 words long.

Edit: I suppose I should have added before that there is a bonus at the end for Theo torture. <3 (not actual torture just...)

(March 13th, xx; four in the morning; Arthur)

Arthur was possessed. The sun had long since set, yet he sat at his desk writing. The sound of a quill scratching away at paper were the only noises in the barely lit room. Midnight-colored bangs fell to cover his eyes as he sighed, finally setting his writing utensil down. He had fully intended to cease his habit of working through the night once he had asked his lovely girlfriend, (MC), to be his wife. Unfortunately for the exhausted writer, his mind would not grant him the solace of keeping his promise. He raked his tired hands through his hair and turned his sapphire eyes onto his beautiful fiancee. She had been so exhausted from her work in the manor that she collapsed on his bed, stretching her entire body across it. The blankets were in disarray and her red hair was splayed around her as if she had a halo. Leaving his story unfinished for the night, the tired writer climbed into what little bed space there was next to his beloved. He wrapped his arms around her waist, hoping he wouldn’t wake her. His eyes slowly drifted off to sleep.

(March 13th, xx; two hours after noon; Arthur)

The smell of coffee wafted to the author’s nose, causing him to stir. Upon opening his eyes, he was greeted with a smile that rivaled the sun. (MC) set his daily dose of “bitter energy provider”, as she called it, on his desk with a glass of rouge. “Good afternoon, Arthur. I brought your coffee and lunch. You happened to sleep through breakfast.” The red-haired woman glanced at the bookshelf next to his desk. It held resources the writer used for reference, but also held at least an entire shelf of completed manuscripts yet to be published. Arthur knew the expression on her face well. It was one of love and admiration; one he felt he didn’t deserve. Pushing away those dark emotions as they welled up, he carefully got out of bed to give her his full attention. “Arthur, it's a waste for your stories to just sit on your shelf! They’re exhilarating and should be shared!” She tried to appeal to him. “You work so hard day and night to write these, why not try to find a publisher?” With a gentle and encouraging tone, she attempted to persuade her lover.

Ah, the old song and dance. He thought as he allowed his usual playful smile dance across his lips as he stood before her, lifting his hand to gently hold the strands of her long hair and let them slip through his fingers. “Hmm~ Perhaps I’ll consider it. More importantly, won’t you join me for lunch, luv~?” His seductive expression would be enough to convince any woman. However, Arthur knew that she would turn him down as she would most likely be busy with her work. Couldn’t have hurt to ask~.

Though his words made her blush, her emerald eyes glittered playfully as she responded. “Really, Arthur? I have to get back to work.” Her soft lips brushed against his cheeks, as if trying to banish his pout, and then she was out the door. Her movements were swift enough to prevent him from convincing her to stay, which was guaranteed to succeed. The writer chuckled at how adorable his fiancee was. If he had convinced her to stay, he would have felt guilty at having taken her from her responsibilities. The writer quickly shook off those thoughts, lest he spiral back into the unending strings of guilt.

Deciding that he desired his coffee rush, Arthur quickly got dressed and sat before his desk. He picked up his pen and stared at the unfinished manuscript. If I can finish this by the end of today, why, I may just get (MC) all to myself tomorrow~ After all, it is her day off. With that thought alone, he felt a surge of energy. Today he would finish this manuscript and start tomorrow’s story so he could spend the day with his lover.

(March 13th, xx; five in the evening; MC)

Her hair swished with the wind as she finished the last of her chores for the day. Working at a mansion with eleven vampires was tough work when there was only the butler, Sebastian, and herself. Now that spring was here, they had been exceedingly busy. (MC) felt guilty that she wasn’t able to spend as much time with Arthur as she wanted. Taking care of everyone here is my job and it’s important, so I’m sure Arthur understands. Remembering that she is supposed to help the butler with prepping and cooking dinner, she glanced at her pocket watch. An expression of shock spread over her features as she realized the time. Gathering her skirts a bit, the young lady rushed inside.

Upon her entry to the kitchen, she was prepared to receive Sebastian’s signature flick to the forehead as punishment for being late. Luckily, he simply glanced in her direction and gave her a smile. “You’re late. If you finished the work in the garden, why not get started on Sir Isaac’s dinner?” He instructed her as he was finishing up Theo’s and Vincent’s “dinner”. Her nose scrunched up at the pancakes and Theo’s entire bottle of syrup that she knew he would pour on the unsuspecting victims.

“Pancakes again? Theo is going to end up sick.” She giggled, but set to work on Isaac’s sandwich. Isaac preferred sandwiches because it was easier to eat and work, Theodorus preferred pancakes, and Napoleon would sometimes cook his own food. Pleased with her efforts, she gently placed the sandwich on a plate and set different vegetables around it. With dextrous fingers, she placed the meals on the serving cart. Before leaving the kitchen, she made sure to grab not one, but two syrup bottles with the knowledge that Theo would drown his pancakes without mercy. Once everything was set up they headed to the dining room.

Sitting at the table was the usual crowd, but she was surprised to see her lover amongst the group since he was working on his manuscript. She had expected that Arthur would still be hard at work. As she placed the prepared plates on the table along with the two syrup bottles, she gave Theo a playful smile. “Here you are Theo, your syrup with a side of pancakes.”

Theo’s usual cocky smirk disappeared from his face to display a scowl. “Despite what you seem to believe, I do eat other foods besides pancakes, hondje.” Vincent and the housekeeper watched as Theo poured more than a normal amount of syrup on his cakes as usual.

Vincent, reaching for his own bottle, poured a little amount on his. “But Theo, pancakes are your favorite meal and that is your fourth bottle of syrup this week.” Sebastian, overhearing this conversation, bemoans the lack of chances to shop this week and makes note that they will need more syrup. Seeing Theo being called out by his own brother caused her to cover her mouth to hide her giggles. Theo turned to Vincent wide eyed. “Are you taking the knabbeltje’s side, Broer?” The brunette pouts at his older brother.

The older paused and seemed to think for a moment, “Sebastian has been making you pancakes for almost every meal this week. Maybe (MC) has an idea of a meal you would like.” He offered his brother his winning angelic smile. Theo merely grumbled in response and began to eat his pancakes. Seeing her chance, she decided to appeal to Vincent. He was her key to convincing Theo to at least give her idea a try. “Actually Vincent, there is a 21st century recipe for pancakes that I have been wanting Theo to try. I just know how much you love Sebastian’s pancakes, so I didn’t want to force it on you.”

She lowered her head and looked away, which sealed the deal as she heard Vincent say, “I’m sure Theo would be happy to try them, especially since you said you wanted him to try them.” Realizing his fate was sealed and the overhanging possibility of him trying a healthier option of pancake caused Theo to choke on his breakfast. Clearing his throat, he wiped his mouth and sent a strained smile to his brother. “Sure, Broer, even a hondje can’t mess up something as simple as a pancake.” She grinned at her feat, already planning the ingredients she would need. She turned her attention back to her work.

(March 13th, six in the evening; Arthur)

Her attempts to get Theo to at least attempt to eat healthier, despite the lack of need for food, had not gone unnoticed. Vincent was happy that she worried for them, but it was unnecessary. Though, her mischief towards Theo and his beloved pancakes was always a sight to behold. It always amused the writer. Arthur, having been a spectator for this specific trial, was quite pleased with his fiancee; She had managed to place Theo in a checkmate position.

Catching Sebas taking notes for groceries gave Arthur an idea that he was mulling over as his lover took her seat beside him. He gave her a smile that rang of his pride for her. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he drew her slightly closer to place a kiss to her temple. “You’re a clever bird~” He whispered into her ear. She grinned at him, while Theo merely glowered.

(March 14th, six in the morning; MC)

The sunlight started to trickle past the slightly parted curtains, blessing the room with light from the sunrise. The red haired lady glanced at the empty spot next to her, saddened to find he wasn’t resting there. She turned her emerald eyes upon his desk, only to find it missing its owner as well. Concern began to creep in through her fingertips and slowly spread throughout her body, making her cold under the warm blankets. Perhaps he went to get coffee? His side of the bed looked untouched, as if the writer had never even entered the bed. She quickly sat up, the press of her feet to the cold floor sending a shiver through her. Running a hand through her hair to calm herself, she used her free one to open the dressing room.

Once she was dressed, the red-haired lady quickly stalked down the deserted hallways towards the kitchen. She was late to help with the chores, but she was more worried about her lover. Had he just gone to get coffee as she had thought earlier? Perhaps he needed fresh air and went for a walk? Her steps were light upon the floor, making barely a sound. Once she reached the kitchen door, she had managed to calm her fears. She slowly opened the door only to find the very man where she had guessed he would be. Drinking his “bitter energy provider.” Flashing a gentle smile at the sapphire eyed man, she walked into the kitchen. “Good morning, Arthur!”

He gave her a lazy grin, his eyes already looking tired, but there was something playful there in his expression. “Good morning, luv~” He sang in his usual flirtatious tone and set his coffee aside in order to give her a tight hug. “Comte dragged Sebas out early this morning and asked that you do the shopping for the day.” The author was pouting as he placed a kiss to her temple. “While I am desperate to have your attention all to myself, I was wondering if I could accompany you~?”

The look she gave him at that question was one of disbelief. “Don’t you have to finish a manuscript?” She eyed him, knowing all of his tricks. In response, he gave her the puppy dog eyes; she had to look away, or else he would win their little game too easily. With a huff, she wiggled out of his arms and picked up the note left to her by the dark haired butler.

“Dear MC,

I have been asked by le Comte to accompany him on some business outside of Paris and will be gone for the day. Along with the usual chores, I have left a list of items that need to be picked up in town.

I can come in many shades and often made from unconventional materials and I am used in strokes.

I am desirable and appealing to some, due to my false sense of calm. My life started with a spark and then goes up in cinder and smoke.

I often end up in sticky situations and don’t come from bees, but I can be found at breakfast and cannot be spread freely.

Dark as sin and a pain to wash out, I am often used to send someone’s thoughts. Without me, people cannot read.

When I am well worn, I have a crack in my spine. I often have dog ears when I am done. I can be heavy or lean, but left alone I can gather dust.

Be sure that this list is completed by the end of the afternoon. I know you need to go to town to pick up your ingredients as well for your 'pancakes'.”

She let out an exasperated sigh, wondering what could have possessed the butler to leave such a puzzle for her to solve. These riddles couldn’t be too hard, right? As she was trying to relate each sentence to an item that one of the residents could need, her lover snaked his arm around her waist and laid his head on her shoulder to look at the letter. “Ah~ A fun little game.” His free hand slid along her arm, taking the letter from her hands to read it better. Glancing up, she puffed her cheeks out at him. “Get your coat, luv. We are going to town.” Folding the letter neatly, he put it in his pocket.

His fiancee’s expression left nothing to the imagination. “Don’t you have to work?” She asked, obviously worried that she would, once again, distract him from his manuscripts. However, a selfish part of her brain told her she wanted him to go with her. And, with great effort, she crushed that part. He needs to continue his work! I can’t get in his way!

Arthur chuckled, “As it so happens, I seem to be having a bout of ‘Writer’s block’. Going for a walk may help clear my mind~” He kissed her head, spun her around, and gently pushed her towards the door. “Now, go doll yourself up. We’ll have lunch out after we do our little shopping; I’m sure you’ll be starved. Meet me in the foyer at eight~” She beamed, her cheeks turning a slight pink shade, and left the room with renewed excitement. Though, in her mind, she knew he was only pretending to have writer’s block so that he could spend time with her.

(March 14, eight in the morning; MC)

She ran the brush through her beautiful, wavy red hair one last time. Nervousness was the prevailing emotion over her excitement. Since it had been so long since she and Arthur had last been out together, she wanted to look her best. She let out a deep breath to calm her nerves and set her brush upon her vanity. Shaky hands grabbed at her skirts as she looked in the full length mirror and twirled. The skirt billowed out around her, looking for all their part petals to a beautiful flower. The dress she had chosen was a blue-grey that matched her lovers’ usual attire. She beamed at the woman in the mirror; Perfect! I hope Arthur likes it! Once she was content with her appearance, she rushed out of her room to meet her fiance.

The look of delight and the light that brightened his eyes as she descended the stairs finally waved away her nerves. His gaze took in all of her, following her from the very top of the steps to the very last. “My~! Don’t you look gorgeous, my dove~!” He held out his arm to her to escort her to the carriage. She put her hand on his arm, willing to walk anywhere this man demanded.

Now that they had reached town, Arthur pulled the letter out and unfolded it. She had a hard time keeping pace with him as he was concentrating, his long strides requiring her to almost jog beside him. “Now, where to begin.” At the very least, her lover seemed to be taking this seriously. “‘I come in many shades’ could be just about anything. What really narrows it down is that it mentions ‘strokes’ and ‘unconventional materials’. Now, my dear Watson, who in the mansion uses something that has to do with strokes?” His tone of voice told her that she should know this answer. She paused her steps for a moment, causing him to stop as well.

Memories of her talks with the residents began running through her mind. Just as she was about to give up, she remembered a conversation she’d had with Theo. They’d been looking at one of Vincent’s paintings! Theo had been describing the particular style of his brother’s art. “Vincent! His paints! Vincent mentioned needing more paints just the other day!” She exclaimed excitedly, clasping her hands together, her eyes bright.

She knew she’d said the right thing when he gave her a radiant smile. “Brilliant, luv~! You make a wonderful partner.” A gloved hand caressed her cheek in a moment of affection. Pulling a pen out of his pocket, he scribbled “Paints for Vincent” next to the first puzzle. “The hints for the second riddle is… ‘desirable and appealing’ and ‘starts with a spark and goes up in smoke’.” He glanced at her, to which she already wore a smile.

“That HAS to be cigarillos for Leonardo. They’re known to have an addictive substance and due to the tobacco, give a sense of calm, right? Also, it starts in a spark because it needs to be lit. As its ‘life ends’ it ‘goes up in smoke’.” She grinned at Arthur, knowing she was right this time as well.

He nodded his affirmation, writing down “cigarillos for Leo”. Arthur quickly wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to himself as a carriage whooshed past them both. While it would have missed her, he was glad to have had a reason to hold her close to him. “Perhaps we should take a seat to finish the rest?” To this she gave him an amused smile, shaking her head in playful exasperation. His gloved hand grasped hers and began tugging her towards a bench. His hand felt warm in hers, but oh how she wished he weren’t wearing gloves.

Once they were seated at the bench, him having her sit so close to him that she was practically in his lap, he held the letter between them. She glanced around to make sure no one was paying them much mind, her face almost a scarlet hue. He had his arm around her waist and was leaning close to her in order to allow them both to look at the letter easier. “This one is for Theo. The bees usually means honey, but since it's sticky and not from bees, it has to be because we ran out of syrup.” After she finished her explanation, Arthur turned to face her, their noses almost touching.

“Brilliant! You could be a detective yourself.” He winked at her and removed his arm, writing down “Syrup for Theo”. She felt slightly colder after he had pulled away, already missing his warmth. But she shook this feeling off. “Any ideas for this one?” His finger was indicating the fourth riddle. He recited, “‘Dark as sin and a pain to wash out’…”

“Oh! Ink! Speaking of which, Arthur, did you write this morning?” As he had pointed at the paper, the sleeve of his white shirt poked out from under his jacket. It displayed blue ink marks on the cuffs, which stood out against the bright white. She started inspecting his sleeve with a frown; ink certainly was a pain to get out and now she was going to have to spend a lot of time cleaning this shirt.

“Ah. Sorry, poppet. I attempted to write a bit this morning and forgot to roll up my sleeves.” His tone was certainly apologetic, no doubt worried about his lover having to spend her time trying to clean his many ink stained shirts. He wrote down “Ink for Arthur and Mozart”. “Last one and then we buy all the items. Then I treat you to lunch.” His eyes skimmed the very last part of the list. "'When I am well worn, I have a crack in my spine. Heavy or lean and gathers dust’.”

“A book?” She glanced at him, worried that she was wrong. The problem being that if it were a book, who would it be for? There was no title written down or any information. Just the riddle.

“I did happen to ask Sebas for a reference book the other day, perhaps that is what he meant. If not, we may have to come back into town!” They both set off together to purchase the answers and the ingredients for her special “pancakes." After they had their bags together, Arthur whisked her away to enjoy a lunch together.

As they were enjoying their food she decided to put to word what had been on her mind earlier that day. She set her fork upon her plate and turned to face Arthur. “You don’t really have writer’s block, do you?”

He froze, his spoon almost to his mouth. There was a clink as he set the spoon back in his bowl. Longer fingers tugged nervously at his collar, his expression sheepish. “Well, luv… The truth is that we have both been busy lately… With you doing all the cleaning and my writing… Then our sleeping habits. I simply wanted a bit of your attention to myself.” His pout made her laugh, her expression brightening.

Another suspicion arose in her mind. “You made these riddles, didn’t you? It seems a bit out of place for Sebastian to suddenly decide to play a game!” She laughed when he confessed to this too. The sound of her laughter was a bright sound that lightened the load on his heart. He knew he had done something right with this “date” he had planned. But surely his fiancee was too clever to have picked up on it. But he grinned, happy to be able to please his future wife. Times would be hard and there would be highs and lows. But one thing was for certain: this was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Bonus (Torturing Theo)

The next morning, MC woke up very early and began preparing everyone’s breakfast. Today was going to be a special day, a day she would never forget. The ingredients for Theo’s healthy breakfast lay before her on the counter. She tried hiding her smirk, her fiance chuckling as he sipped away at his coffee. Arthur was excitedly wanting to watch as his best friend got what he deserved. Especially after the time where Theo forced him to drink his most hated substance, tea. She knew that no matter what, Theo would have no choice but to eat what she made; Vincent was sure to have her back on this. After all, she only cares for Theo’s health.

Arthur pushed away from the counter he was leaning on, sauntered over to his lover and placed a kiss to her temple. With a hand resting on her hip, he whispered into her ear. “I’m off to the dining room~ Try not to have too much fun before the main act, luv~” Focused on her work, she barely noticed the affection he gave her. The lack of attention made him pout, but he knew she was enjoying herself. Just as his hand slid from her waist and he turned to leave the room, (MC) gave him a kiss to his cheek. A gentle smile returned to his lips as he left the room. Once he was gone, she continued her work on the “pancakes”.

Theo’s POV

Theo watched as (MC) entered the room. He knew something was going on with the way she was humming to herself. Trying to think of what would make her so happy, he tensed upon remembering that she was making his “special pancakes” today. His dirty blonde hair shadowed his face as he considered whether or not he should make a break for it.

Watching as she placed everyone’s breakfast down, his ocean blue eyes went wide as he looked at the abomination before him. Is this even a pancake!? It was fluffy, that was for sure. The “pancakes'' before him had cabbage in it. Instead of syrup, it had a dollop of something white and what smelled like garlic. “What is this, knabbletje?” He turned his icing glare on her.

She beamed at his expression. “It’s called Cabbage Fritters. It’s just like pancakes, except with cabbage!” Her eagerness only made his scowl deepen. He knew she was doing this on purpose. However, if he said anything that might make her cry, Vincent would get onto him. “I made them fluffy, just like you like your pancakes.” She was at least trying to ease his displeasure.

With hesitant movements, he grabbed his fork and knife. “Don’t I get to have syrup at least?” As she shook her head, he sighed, giving in to his torture. On one side, he could eat it quickly and hope it isn’t as bad as it looks. On the other, he could refuse to eat it. The latter would cause him to receive a stern expression from his broer and he would still have to eat the nasty food.

Theo heard a snicker in front of him and he glanced up to find Arthur trying not to laugh as the author hid his face behind his coffee mug. Cutting into the fritters, as she called them, he stabbed the piece with his fork and slowly lifted it to his mouth. The look of pure disgust on his face as it touched his tongue brought joy to Arthur and his fiancee. He began to chew, resisting the urge to spit it out. Once he swallowed, he tried to force his usual cocky expression back into place. “I-I suppose it’s okay.”

Suddenly, everything was sunshine and brightness as Vincent smiled. “If you liked it, perhaps (MC) should make it more often.” His brother tilted his head, seeming absolutely pleased. He threw a dark look in her direction; She was definitely trying not to laugh. Arthur, on the other hand, broke out into a fit of laughter. His shoulders shook and he was having troubles catching his breath.

Finally having enough, Theo slammed his hands on the table, pushing his chair back as he stood up and made his way towards the lady. With panicked laughter, she ran to her lover, who was still laughing. “Arthur, help me!” At his lover’s call, he stood up and pulled her behind him.

“Schei uit, Theo.” Vincent grabbed Theo quickly, while (MC) pushed herself as close to Arthur’s back as possible to hide behind him. Theo struggled in his brother’s hold trying to get to them. “What has gotten into you, Theo?” His brother’s concerned voice hurt his ears, but he could no longer behave.

“That is NOT a pancake. They’re doing this to me on purpose, broer!” He tried appealing to his older brother, to no avail. Vincent simply held him tighter and gave him a look of disapproval. This only added fuel to the fire. Arthur was sure to pay for this later. He’d make sure of it.

Riddles provided by @madam-mademoiselle

[illneverrecover]

the sweetest thing (M) | myg

➛pairing: Min Yoongi x reader ➛genre: florist!Yoongi, baker!Reader, florist AU, baker AU, enemies to lovers, humor, smut. ➛word count: 4799 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: not too many, this is pretty sweet & soft. Heavy petting, cursing, making out, neck kissing, biting/marking, icing used in a dirty manner, implied sex, mild dirty talk, bad puns, witty banter. ➛summary: Min Yoongi was sure you moved in next door to his floral shop just to ruin him and his business. But when he needs your help, he realizes that it’s much sweeter working together then apart. ➛notes: Hehehe. My sweet little angel bb Paril requested some florist shop Yoongi E2L with baker reader, and I just had to oblige. I love writing Yoongi, he truly just is perfect for me to channel sass and sarcasm and a bit of sweetness. Thank you for commissioning me @serensama​ (and the kind bank of @quinnkook​), I hope you enjoy this and that it’s what you were looking for! I love you tons and I’m proud to be your soulmate. 🖤 ➛song: People - AGUST D for the sweet fluff  & Poison - GOT7  for the dirty dirty.

“She’s doing this on purpose.”

“No she isn’t, hyung. That doesn’t make sense.” Namjoon picks up a rose, twirling it in inspection. “Does she even know you exist?”

Yoongi scoffs then, eyes darting from the arrangement in front of him to glare at Namjoon. “Of course she knows I exist. Our shops share a wall.”

Instead of replying, Namjoon rolls his eyes before refocusing, carefully watching the stem as his hand slides the knife down it to remove any thorns. Yoongi accepts his silence as defeat, puffing his chest. “So, like I was saying - she’s doing this on purpose, and she’s going to bleed me dry.”

The door swings open then, Hoseok and Jungkook both moving to the workstations with arms full of supplies, the latter’s eyes wide as he picks up on the conversation.

“Wait! Are you talking about Y/N noona?”

“Yes, and how she’s killing business-”

“Isn’t she just the coolest?!” Jungkook interrupts, beaming over at Yoongi. “Have you seen the designs for her flower cookies? And how she’s selling twelve of them in a pack and calling them ‘coo-quets’? Get it? Like instead of-”

“Bouquets, yes Jungkook, I get the pun.” Yoongi mutters dryly, setting the finished arrangement in it’s vase and sliding it to the side. Hoseok is laughing, so hard in fact that he misses Yoongi picking up a roll of tape until it beams him in the head.

“Hey! What was that for!” rubbing his crown, he glares at the florist before reluctantly picking up the tape, fixing the customer label to the side of the vase before moving it over to the fridge. “Don’t be violent with me just because you have the hots for the pretty baker next door.”

Yoongi sputters, hand slapping the top of the table. “I do not have the hots for-”

“Yeah yeah, we know, you definitely aren’t into Y/N, at all,” Namjoon deadpans, reaching into the box for his next rose to dethorn. “You don’t find her attractive, you didn’t stalk her and pretend to be a customer just so you could see inside her business, absolutely nothing to see here.”

“Your sarcasm is noted and also not appreciated,” Yoongi sniffs, before turning away from the taller man all together. “All I’m saying is, ever since she moved into that building, she’s caused issues. And now this is how she decides to promote for the Spring Blossom festival? It feels like an attack.”

“But hyung, it’s called the ‘Spring Blossom Festival’, I think leaning towards flowers would be kind of an obvious choice, right?” Jungkook prompts, head tilting in naive innocence. 

Yoongi sighs heavily, head dropping to his chest, and wonders not for the first time why he thought hiring his friends to work with him was a good idea. 

Maybe Jungkook had a point; maybe they all did. But that wasn’t enough to convince Yoongi that your motives were all sincere in nature. He was telling the truth when he said that ever since you had moved in next door, things had gone haywire for his small, locally loved floral shop. 

He had only been in the space for about a year, but the street it was on had picked up in popularity with a new pub and restaurant concept on the corner, and a local farmers market moving in on the weekends. Quickly, his little business grew, people coming to him when seeking unique arrangements that were both beautiful and affordable. As demand increased, so did the need to hire more hands, and his friends had been enthusiastic to join his payroll. 

For the most part, things had been smooth sailing.Training the others had been relatively easy, and what shortcomings they had, he was able to find a new strength they each brought to the business. He was comfortable, thriving, going to bed with a full belly and fat wallet, and it’s all he could ask for.

Until you.

Yoongi didn’t even see you until after you had already bought and renovated the building next door, the sign for your bakery going up and accenting the coral pink of the painted brick perfectly. He had thought it was cute; how bright and cheery your shop looked, how you were always dressed in flattering sundresses and heels, despite spending your days in a kitchen baking. He walked past your place daily to get to his own, and had found himself curious about what you were like, how good your food was, how successful you’d be.

He figured the aesthetic alone would bring in some customers, if not the increased foot traffic the farmers market brought in, and he wasn’t wrong. Your soft opening had gone well, a small line forming outside the building to Yoongi’s amusement. Word of mouth worked like a charm in your neighborhood, and a steady flow of regulars would greet him on his trek into work each morning at sunrise as they awaited their breakfast pastry and hot cup of coffee.

While this was great for you, it wasn’t so good for him. Your customers would always line up in the direction where they would block his window, meaning people walking by couldn’t get a glimpse at the creations he had displayed in the windows. Not to mention the littering - flurries of light brown napkins with your logo stamped in the middle usually lining the street in front of the shops, seemingly taunting him.

And then, the festival came. The Spring Blossom Festival, to be exact. 

It was clever, he’d admit that much. The word play of ‘cookie’ and ‘bouquet’, the different color options of the edible flowers painstakingly drawn onto perfectly baked sugar cookies. You had really put thought and effort into the design, and he wasn’t surprised that it seemed to be a hit, dominating the first several days of the festival.

But that didn’t mean he liked it.

He watched helplessly as his sales dipped, as customers that would’ve wanted the real thing instead switched it up for prettily decorated consumable flowers, all cooing and preening over the treats in their matching boxes.

Yoongi had to retaliate. What else was there for him to do?

After watching you hang neon pink flyers up around the street, he had made some as well, deciding he’d place them conveniently directly over your own. Matching the paper to yours had been Namjoon's suggestion, and Yoongi had thought it was genius. That seemed to bring in a few more customers, but the lull still remained, his till and bank account making it painfully apparent.

It had been Jungkook's idea to photo bomb some of your promotional pictures when he spotted you posing in front of the shop, pristine desserts in hand and a floral dress on to match. Yoongi had shook his head but ultimately agreed, handing him one of his best designed bouquets and nudging him towards your bakery. Trying to make it look natural, he strolled back and forth in the background, making sure the flowers in his hand were always towards the camera, that he looked as if he was enjoying the festival as a patron. After about the fifth pass through, the boxy lipped young man taking your pictures had scowled, shouting after him to get out of the way. You had laughed, invited Jungkook to talk with you, even posted one of the pictures with him in it on your Instagram like it hadn’t phased you at all.

Now, here he was with only two more days left of the festival - a time that he should be making double - and with nothing more to show for it. Pre-made and custom bouquets lined the shop windows, hoping to entice anyone passing by, but most remained untouched and without a home to go to.

He was desperate.

"Why don't you just go talk to her?" Hoseok interjects, an eyebrow raised. "Maybe you can explain what's happening, see if she'd be willing to help out or team up or something."

Scoffing loudly, Yoongi kicks at the ground. "Team up? You think I want to team up with her? This is a serious business I run here, you know."

Hoseok gives Namjoon a passing glance over the blonde's head, not that he notices, too stuck inside his thoughts. It's Jungkook's loud voice that breaks the silence once more.

"Y/N noona is really nice, you know. And her cookies are so yummy, I bet she would love to help us!"

"You've tried her cookies, Jungkook?!" Yoongi’s voice raises, incredulous. "This is a sudden yet inevitable betrayal, you know. It really be your own friends."

"Seriously, Yoongi. You think she's cute anyway. Might as well go over under the pretense of business and at least see if you can score her number." Namjoon deadpanned, dropping his knife and making sure to show him every ounce of pleading desperation on his face.

Yoongi ponders for a beat or two, pretending to mull it over all the while recognizing that it couldn't hurt anything to go chat with his new neighbor, introduce himself. Who knows, maybe there was a deal to be made?

You thought he was so cute, the grumpy little florist next door.

His mouth was perpetually in a pout, bottom lip upturned enough that it made him look like he was always inspecting, always exasperated. His eyes were sharp, but not in a judgmental way - more like in the way where you knew nothing went past his scrutinizing gaze, and they were offset by the soft white blonde of his hair, in the refined silver hoops that lined his ears. 

Your neighbor Yoongi was a walking contradiction, and you couldn’t help but to be charmed by him.

You had heard rumors about him, heard people's worries of you moving into the building next to his very popular floral shop, but you didn't pay them any mind. You had yet to meet someone that you couldn't make a friend, and if he was impervious to your charms, he definitely wouldn't be able to deny your best coworker, Taehyung, and his infectious personality.

But despite your attempts, you always seemed to miss him, unable to properly introduce yourself when he bustled by during the morning rush, or when you were cleaning up shop. It didn't stop you from observing, from watching the way he eyed your building, the way he'd upturn his lip at the line forming outside the door at daybreak.

He seemed so easily ruffled, so annoyed but in this endearing way, and you couldn't help but want to get to know him, to see if you could get him to open up.

Especially once he started his attempts at sabotage.

They had been subtle at first - the flyer trick something you wouldn't have noticed if it hadn't been for Jin, who made sure to check and replace any torn advertisements at the end of each day. The designs had looked so similar that you didn't even double take until the elder had pointed out the word change, how the name of Yoongi's business adorned the top of the page. Jin's eyes were ablaze, but you had just laughed, instructing him to leave the ones he found alone.

But it made you more curious, further intrigued by your flower selling neighbor who took such lengths to garner business, and you couldn't help but want to see what he did next.

It had been Taehyung that grumbled about some tall dark haired boy ruining all your promotional shots, though he had smirked the whole time he showed you the images you ended up with. You recognized that he was a worker at the florist next door almost immediately, the immaculate arrangement he carried carefully in his hands striking your intuition further.

Finally, Taehyung had shouted at him, and you called the boy over to introduce himself despite his red cheeks and ducking gaze. You learned his name was Jungkook and that he was indeed a coworker and friend of Yoongi’s, and that he was just trying to help, though he wouldn't go into much more detail after that. You had chatted with him briefly, offering him a cookie for his troubles, and promised him that you weren’t mad about his attempts at photobombing.

And you were telling the truth - you really couldn't be annoyed at these attempts to thwart your advertising, instead laughing at each new picture, making sure you picked one where the bouquet was clearly visible behind you as you held an open box of 'coo-quets'.

It isn't hatred, you don't think, that drives your neighbor to do this, but you aren't quite sure where to go from here. He still hadn't introduced himself, and with how busy things were during the festival, you hadn't found the time to do the same either, working long hours to keep afloat with your orders and walk-ins. You wanted to ask him why he was so annoyed with you, what he had against your little bakery, but you told yourself there would be time for that later when the heat died down.

Not to mention, Taehyung had been chomping at the bit for an excuse to go introduce himself.

"Y/N," he whined, dragging the last syllable of your name out into an obnoxious tune. "I just want to go make friends! Why won't you let me?"

"Because someone needs to run the register for these customers, Tae. Jin and I are elbow deep in cookie dough, and Jimin can't run both sides of the counter himself."

The tall man sulks, bottom lip jutting out as his caramel hair flops into his face. "You have a point, I guess. But once the festival is done, I'm going to go introduce myself and invite them over for coffee."

You smile at him then, eyeing him from the corner of your vision as your hands continue to delicately trace colored icing on the cookies in front of you. "That sounds like a deal, Tae."

"Oh! Me too though!" Jimin shouts, turning from the counter to glance into the kitchen of your shop. Normally you'd have the doors to the kitchen closed, but with the day about to start, it made it easier to prop them open while you ran back and forth between the two stations. "I want to go say hi too. They look like really cool guys!"

I'd have to agree, you thought to yourself, picturing the sharp eyed man in your mind, but you stay silent.

To say you were startled when you heard a knock at the back door would be an understatement, even more so when you saw who it was - Yoongi, the pouting florist, blonde hair flopped into his face. He was wearing a fluffy white sweater, a dark green apron tied around his neck and waist, and his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, like he had been prepping for hours - much like you.

With a single look, you shooed the other men out of the kitchen to the front, opening the door to your guest.

"Well hey! You must be Yoongi, I'm-"

"Y/N."

"Oh, I didn't know you knew who I was!" you smile warmly, gesturing for him to step into the kitchen.

"Well, I had seen you move in, of course. Plus, Jungkook hasn't shut up since he met you," he mutters, shaking his hair out of his face as he took several steps inside. "He's like a stray cat, you know. Once you feed him, he's your friend for life."

That made you laugh, a hand rising to cover your mouth, and you couldn’t help the smirk that follows. "Well, he was too cute not to feed. Is that why you're here? Are you another stray who would like to be fed?"

Yoongi’s cheeks flush then, a dusty red that you think would look perfect in the petals of a rose, and you promise yourself to try to recreate it in frosting later.

“Ha, that’s funny,” he clears his throat, hand coming to rub at the back of his neck. “Actually, I was coming to talk to you to see if we could make an arrangement, you know - as one business owner to another.”

“Is that so?” you raise a brow, hands resting at your hips. “And what kind of deal would that be?”

You're surprised at how honest Yoongi is when he explains his situation, lays his hardships bare before you right there in the stuffy heat of your kitchen. He does manage to at least look a little embarrassed when he admits what he did in order to ramp up business, and you can’t stop your heart from softening as he finishes his request, wringing his hands as he looks at you expectantly. 

“So, what you’re saying is - you want to work together, make something that the festival goers will love but will help both of our shops - is that right?”

He stands tall then, shoulders rolling back as his gaze pierces through your own. “That’s right. Think of it as a ‘I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine’ type of deal.”

“Is this another cat analogy?”

Yoongi groans, and you giggle at the roll of his eyes. 

“I already regret this.”

Stepping closer, you peer up at the florist, watching the way his eyes widen at your proximity. “No, you don’t. And technically I think I’m doing all the scratching here, but that’s okay. I think we could make a good team, Min Yoongi.”

The event is crowded, more so than Yoongi could have ever imagined.

The tables he and you had placed in front of both buildings were stuffed with goods, the heads of your coworkers ducking back inside each entrance to refill them when they got low. Customers were milling about; some taking in the offerings, others lining up in wait to purchase, and the sheer number of people had Yoongi grinning widely.

It was your idea, of course - to offer up a half dozen flowers with a half dozen of cookies, the perfect set. That isn’t to say Yoongi didn’t help; the concept of decorating the tables and dressing formally to stand out being his own, as well as offering to match the flowers and cookies to each other. The red roses and pair set cookies were flying off the shelves fast, but so were the purple calla lilies and pink tulips, which made him smile. 

You had been more enthusiastic with the plan, gladly altering the designs of your ‘coo-quets’ to match, and it was clearly a smash hit. Yoongi thought back to how easily it had been to talk to you, to be honest, to spill his guts - how quickly you were willing to help, how natural it had been to form a plan, to laugh with you, and he felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

Yoongi was thrilled with the sales and popularity, of course, but found himself distracted despite the success. He was happy to see his employees grinning and getting along with your own, glad to see the till fill knowing that he’d be able to pay everyone on time, but more than anything, he was ecstatic to see you smile, to see you shine in the sunset pink summer dress that was brushing the tops of your knees.

He himself had donned some light grey dress pants with a white button down, the sleeves carefully rolled to expose his forearms, jacket long forgotten in the heat of the outdoors. You had beamed at him when he first arrived, nodding approvingly at his attire, and he couldn’t help the pride that swelled in his heart at your approval.

And now as the day wore on, every time his elbow knocked into yours, your bodies stepping and swaying as you worked, Yoongi felt a heat build; a sizzling lick of electricity that was sparking between the two of you that he couldn’t ignore.

“You know,” he leans in, mouth inches from your ear as you grin widely at a customer. “I think we do make a pretty good team, Y/N.”

He relishes in the way your skin warms, in the way he watches your cheeks blush so prettily at his words, and feels hopefulness tighten his chest. 

“We do, Min Yoongi, especially now that you aren’t actively trying to ruin me.” You grit between frozen teeth, your smile unwavering until the patron is out of hearing range. 

“Hey, I didn’t try to ruin anything-”

“Okay, how about ‘mildly inconvenience’ then?”

Chuckling, he raises an arm to rub at the back of his neck, and you follow the lines in his arm as he does so, watching the rippling of muscles beneath the cuff of his rolled up sleeve with interest. 

“I guess that’s fair.”

It was amazing how well things turned out, how fast the day had blown by. Jin had slaved away in the kitchen making sure that there were enough baked goods for everyone, Jimin and Taehyung teaming up with Jungkook and Hoseok from the florist shop to run items back and forth and greet customers. 

But it was Yoongi who had stolen the air from your lungs and any sense you had left rattling in your head. 

You could see now why his business had flourished before you arrived, why the customers continued to return to him when they needed their next arrangement. He was such a good and intent listener, his eyes sharp and focused on whomever was speaking to him. Even in the case of the event, where the flowers were pre-arranged, he still listened, shook and held the hand of each buyer as they spoke, fawning over his flowers. 

It was evident he was passionate about his business, which made the fact that he had been willing to do whatever it took - including partnering up with you - even more admirable.

 The sun was going down by the time things seemed to slow, your hands aching from the intricate icing work and feet throbbing from running around in heels. It seemed that everyone had satisfied smiles of hard work etched on their faces, and pleasant adoration inflated your gut at the sight, especially when you landed on Yoongi. 

The edges of his mouth had finally relaxed, his eyes creasing into half moons more and more as he laughed, stress leaving his body. It was a beautiful sight, if you could admit such a thing.

When the final customer waved goodbye, heading down to the main street for the firework finale of the festival, you left the giddy boys out front to begin cleaning, bones aching at the prospect of all the dishes that needed to be done, but not wanting to drag out the pain any longer than necessary.

“Need some help?” Yoongi was posed in the doorway, arm pressing against the jam, one leg crossed over the other, as if it was normal for him to be effortlessly handsome in sweaty bakery kitchens.

“That would be great,” you smirk, tilting your head. “I wash, you dry?”

And so that’s how you find yourself alone with Yoongi, sweat dotting his hairline as he gives you side glances and small talk over drying mixing bowls. You talk about everything and nothing, conversation flowing freely, and you feel drunk on his proximity, on the way he talks with his hands, the way his voice pitches when he laughs. His white button down is transparent in the spots where water had hit, and even the hint of a peak of his skin made you feel a bit dizzy. 

“Thank you for helping me with all of this, by the way. It would have taken hours to do by myself.”

“It’s no big deal. Plus, I’m sure one of those guys out there would’ve came back if you batted your lashes,” he leers, nodding to indicate the young men of both businesses that were currently playing around out front. “Especially Jungkook. He’s been all ‘Y/N noona this, Y/N noona that’ ever since he met you.”

Handing him a dish, you look up at him through your lashes, blinking coquettishly. “Well, can you blame him? I mean, just look at me. All this and I can cook? I’m the full package.”

You were joking; a teasing lilt to your voice as you refocused on the task at hand, but you could feel the intensity of his stare heating you thoroughly, forcing you to meet his eyes once more. 

“You really are,” he murmurs, voice low but clear, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You’re funny and talented and so smart that it’s kind of intimidating,” he looks back at the pot in his hand, drying it thoroughly before setting it aside. “But you’re also kind hearted, and willing to listen and help those in need, even when you barely know them.”

He turns then, stepping closer until his breath is fanning across your cheek, his arms caging you to the sink as you turn to face him fully. 

“Not to mention, you’re more beautiful than any flower I’ve ever seen.”

Dropping your head to stifle the giggles, you hear him wince loudly.

“That was pretty cheesy, huh?”

Nodding, you meet his eyes once more. “It was, but I have a few baking puns that will make you cringe.”

“Hit me with one.” 

Raising on your toes, you lean into him, tentatively placing a palm on his chest. “Is that a baguette in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

His shoulders start shaking before he lets out a loud laugh, smile widening to show his teeth in a way that made your heart flip. Catching his breath, he sighs, leaning to rest his forehead against yours.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Wanna find out?”

Kissing Min Yoongi was a whirlwind, a focused intensity pressed in a powerful dance of his mouth on yours. Your lips answered in kind effortlessly, needing no prompting to follow his lead, to pull his bottom lip between your teeth. Electricity sparks at the base of your skull with each touch of his pout, each lick of his tongue into your mouth, and you feel your knees threaten to give out as he cradles your jaw in his hand, holding you in place.

You aren’t sure when your hands had tangled in his hair, or when he had lifted you to straddle his waist, but you found yourself moving, his body twisting to place you on the cool metal surface of your work space. Hissing as the chill bit into your bare legs, you seek the warmth of his mouth harder, legs wrapping around his form to tug him closer to you, to grind your center against him. 

He’s hard, impossibly hard, and he’s whispering all the things he wants to do to you in the shell of your ear, promising all the things he’ll make you feel with his tongue, his cock. You pull him back to your mouth, kissing him deeper, gasping when he dips his finger in the open icing container on the table, dragging it from the edge of your lips down to your chest.

He trails down your throat, sucking and nipping a marked path to your collarbone, licking the frosting off as he goes -  as if it was the sweetest thing - until he reaches your breasts, cupping them. As you pant out groans of his name, you can’t help but think you’re glad that it’s Yoongi who’s hiking your dress up around your waist, that he is the first man to help you defile your quaint bakery’s kitchen, filling it with moans.

It isn’t until you stumble out just shy of an hour later hand in hand with Yoongi, smelling of sex with mussed hair and lips swollen, that you remember your coworkers - and that little window that shows the spacious floor plan of said kitchen. 

Taehyung is shaking his head, tsking quietly with his arm draped around Jungkook. “Shame on you, Y/N. Poor Kookie here was just trying to bring the tables inside to be helpful, and instead he got traumatized.”

Namjoon scoffs then, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t realize ‘getting a boner’ was now considered trauma.”

“Hey!” Jungkook yells, eyes darting between you and Yoongi. “You said you wouldn’t tell!”

Cheeks flushing, you stifle a giggle once more, looking over to the blonde man whose fingers were still intertwined tightly with your own. Instead of embarrassment, or concern, you just feel a giddy flush of joy as you lean into him.

Yoongi sighs, exasperated, free palm rising to rub at the back of his neck. “Remind me again why I don’t fire them?”

“Because you love them. And, they work for cheap.”

Chuckling, he turns towards you, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “I always knew I liked you.”

[softyoongiionly]

Portraits of a Tiger || 04

Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.

And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.

Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut (later), Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: language, depictions of violence both verbal and physical however they are fairly mild, mentions of war and power dynamics, there will be smut in future parts so, (18+ only please).

A/N: ahhh yes romance is in the air lads. I hope you like this new part!!! I’m having so much fun writing this series for you guys :) LOVE YOUUUUU

As always, a HUGE shoutout to my beautiful friend Rachel @bulletproofbirdy​ for her assistance with this fic. I love you sm and I hope you especially like what I’ve done with the place >:)

It’s been a few days.

Nothing of substance has happened since the night you kissed Yoongi by the river other than a clear shift in your relationship with him.  

He doesn’t treat you differently in front of the patrons at the market nor does he spare more than a glance your way when you’re delivering bread.

But every night, without fail: you meet by the river.

You speak about things that seem too heavy for the daylight: war, peace, hope, loss...

He listens to your thoughts and offers many of his own but the night always ends with his lips on yours.  

His hands moving across your body as if he’s trying to learn every inch of you.

Whilst you’d happily have him against a tree or down on the mushy floor of the riverbed, Yoongi always stops things before they go to far.

He whispers promises of a night without boundaries in a place you both can call your own.

He tells you that when the time is right, he will give you everything you deserve and more.  

You agree with him despite the desire that rages in your body.

You know it’s best to wait until things are more concrete between the two of you.  

So you part ways every time and spend the rest of the night longing for one another until sleep finally offers you momentary peace.

Until the dreams begin...

Today however, you are concerned with someone else’s dreams.

Namely, your dear friend, your original confident, the smartest gal in the world: Rachel.

After your first rendezvous with Yoongi, you had rushed over to her home and spent the better half of the night gushing about the kiss.

Of course, she had been over the moon for you and the two of you had jumped around her living room like a bunch of excited schoolgirls.  

However, towards the end of the conversation, particularly when Jungkook’s name was brought up she had grown slightly somber.

Although their interaction had been brief, the chemistry was palpable and as much you had faith in your friend’s abilities, you didn’t foresee her making a move on him.  

So- you have decided to take matters into your own hands.  

With a basket full of fresh bread, you walk down the dirt path towards their camp to begin the initial phase of your plan.  

It was unlike the members to be absent from the fields surrounding their tents but, you presume it’s because training had concluded for the day.

You expected to see Namjoon out on their bench cribbling in his journal but, there is no one to be found.

There is a bit of anxiety that comes over you as thoughts creep in of the day that this area truly is abandoned.

The day Yoongi and his battalion move on.

Deep in your gut, dread begins to grow but you force yourself to take a deep breath and focus on the objective at hand.  

You tug the bell to signal your arrival expecting Seokjin’s boisterous presence to greet you but, instead you hear a bit of shuffling before a hand slips out between the cloth to tug open the entrance.

Immediately, your heart ignites in a fit within your chest at the sight before you.

Yoongi stands there, body completely rid of his normal attire, with only a pair of tight-fitting long johns adorning his figure.

His hair is out of his usual updo and pushed away from his face, long platinum tendrils cascading down his strong chest.

“Oh- hi...” You cough as the tone of your voice is audibly strained.

He smirks, his eyes lighting up as he sees you, “Good evening. Delivery?”

A jagged nod comes from you as you extend the basket towards him, “Yes. Here you go, I added some-”

Yoongi’s lips are on yours then, interrupting your sentence, one of his hands taking the basket whilst his other hand settles on your cheek.

As usual, his lips eliminate any thought in your head unrelated to him, your body going slightly limp beneath his touch.

He lingers for a moment before pulling away, his brown eyes sparkling with satisfaction.  

“This color is beautiful on you.” He murmurs nodding to your dress and pecking your lips once more, “did you make this?”

You smile, licking the taste of him off your lips, “Thank you. My mom made it for me last spring.”

He grins, “She’s very talented.” He lifts the basket, “This is a wonderful thing to wake up to, my men are going to destroy it.”

You giggle, raising your brows, “Late night?”

“Very. We were out until sunrise.” He explains, “Much of our training is nocturnal and the forests around here allowed us to teach the new recruits some important skills; we all slept a little later than I anticipated...” He chuckles sheepishly, glancing behind him before his eyes fall upon you once more, “It’s nice seeing you in the daylight.”

You giggle, “Is it? That’s a relief, I feared that maybe the moonlight and the beauty of the river was what kept you coming back every night...”

Yoongi’s lips twitch as he adjusts the basket on his arm, “I think you know very well what keeps me coming back.”

Before you can offer another flirtatious quip, a ball of fluffy black hair shoves its way through the opening of the tent.  

It’s Jungkook and he looks as though he hasn’t been awake for more than 30 seconds.

“Hyung- is the bread...” He mumbles sleepily before his eyes widen as they spot you, “Oh- I’m sorry...” He bows his head, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Good uh...” He squints up at the sky, his lips pouted slightly, “Good evening Y/N.”

You bow your head, offering a smile, “Good evening. You didn’t interrupt at all, I was actually looking to speak with you when you have time. I know you’ve just woken up so, I can come back later...”

Jungkook’s cheeks heat up involuntarily as he steps behind Yoongi a little more, “Alone?”

Yoongi eyes you curiously, “What do you want with the boy?”

He chuckles at his younger brother who looks both intrigued and frightened all at once.

“We don't have to be alone.” You assure him, a bit of laughter leaving your lips, “It’s about my friend-”

“Rachel?” He assumes, wide-eyed, “Is she ok?”

You smirk knowingly, “She is. I was actually going to inquire whether or not you were interested in her but, I think I have my answer.”

“Ah- “ Yoongi interjects, looking at you pointedly, “You’re here to play matchmaker for my little brother?” He looks amused, his deep gaze boring into your own as he speaks again, “Don’t you have your hands full with another endeavor?”

The depth in his tone sends a bit of electricity up your spine and, you’re thankful that Jungkook doesn’t pick up on the bit of suggestion in his voice.  

He’s hung up on your reply and aching to know more.

So timidly he says, “Is she- maybe...interested in me?”

Averting your gaze away from Yoongi, you nod towards Jungkook, “I have a feeling she’s more than interested. However, she is incredibly stubborn and refuses to acknowledge the way you look at her. So naturally-” You gesture to yourself fluidly, “I decided to come here and ask you myself.”

“Naturally.” Yoongi agrees, his lips twitching, “Well, I don’t want to intrude on your plan so-”

As he tries to retreat back into the tent, you stop him with a raised hand, “Actually. I need your help after I speak with Jungkook so, don’t go far.”

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head, “You’re aware that I oversee a battalion of 20,000 men, correct?”

With a shrug, you gesture for Jungkook to come closer before throwing an incredulous look Yoongi’s way, “Romance waits for no one...”

“Neither does war.” He retorts with a smirk.

"In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.” You remind him, quoting a famous war strategist, “It won’t take long anyhow, plenty of time to return to your post, General.”

Jungkook, who has been zoning out for the last minute or so raises his brows at your tone, his lips parting in curiosity and glancing towards Yoongi.  

He doesn’t hear people quarrel with Yoongi often, even if they are joking so, hearing you speak so candidly to him causes him to wonder just how close the two of you have gotten.

If Yoongi is impressed by your knowledge, he doesn’t show it. But what he does do is raise his brows whilst his teeth secure themselves to his bottom lip.

“Make it quick.” He insists sharply despite the excitement dancing through his gaze.

Before you have the opportunity to respond, he disappears behind the curtain, leaving you alone with Jungkook.

“Hyung must really like you...” He observes softly, pursing his lips, “He isn’t the type to joke around with new people.”

Stifling a smirk, you shrug and gesture to the bench in front of their tent, “That’s a shame. Your hyung has quite the sense of humor. Now- I know you don’t have a lot of time, so I’ll make this quick.” You begin as the two of you sit, “Normally I’d like to approach a situation like this with a bit more class but to be frank, you won’t be in town long and after the way I saw you looking at Rachel, I don’t think you’ll mind my intervention.”

Jungkook blushes, his fingers coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear, “Ke-Keep your voice down, I don’t want my hyungs to hear about this...” He pleads, “They’ll tease me relentlessly.”

You allow yourself the grin now, admiring how shy he is but you concede not wanting to embarrass him.

“Do you not want them to know you’re courting someone?”

He shakes his head, “No I just don’t want them to know until I speak with her first. I know you say she’s interested but- I'd still like to hear it from her.  My hyungs will pester me about it constantly and if she ends up rejecting me, I don’t really want to be reminded about it.”

“I understand.” You concede, “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I’m sure I’ve never seen her behave this way around a man before. It’s unlikely she will reject you...”

“Still-” He insists, the color on his cheeks deepening, “it's possible. I never assume people’s opinions of me.”

It’s very odd, you think, here is this fine specimen before you: handsome, experienced, talented, respected and yet- he doesn’t seem to see himself that way.

Sounds a lot like someone else you know...

“That’s probably best.” You smile, warming up to him rather quickly, “You are interested in her though, aren’t you?”

He bites his bottom lip in thought before nodding, a bit of shyness in his eyes, “I am yes. Though I’m not totally sure how you figured it out based on our limited interaction. I’ve only spoken to her once- and I made a fool of myself.”

You giggle, “Yes but, you saw her for the first time in the plaza, didn’t you? She stopped you right in your tracks.”

His toffee orbs widen, “How did you-?"

A smirk comes over your mouth as you once again shrug at his question, “My job requires me to be very observant.” You reply, “People often say more with their movements than their words.”

“Hey!” He grins, showing off his perfect teeth, “I think that too! Well- that's something Yoongi-hyung taught me. I’m trying to get better at it but, I find it harder to observe people I don’t know. Strangers make me nervous...”

His sudden warmth makes you happy as you didn’t really expect him to be this bubbly but, you’re happy he’s comfortable with you given your intentions behind this conversation.  

If he’s courting your friend, he’s courting you too.

“You could have fooled me.” You retort, “I saw the way you handled the clan leader...when I came by your tent, I was anticipating on meeting someone very different.”

Jungkook chuckles, “I get that a lot. I rarely live up to people’s expectations of me- I think that’s one of my strong suits. Aside from my brute strength obviously.”  

“Yes of course, we mustn't forget about that...” You concede, laughing lightly along with him, “So back to Rachel then- you plan on courting her yes?”

He shifts on the bench, his tan fingers coming up to adjust his peasant blouse, shyness returning to his features, “I would love to. She-” He pauses, looking away from you, his eyes deepening in thought, “Aish...she really is something isn't she?”

At his question, you smirk and allow warmth to fill your chest, “Now where have I heard that before.” You muse allowed, “I could facilitate a meeting between the two of you? Although- I will likely have to tell a teensy white lie because, if I warn her that you wish to meet with her- she would probably combust on the spot. Also, I doubt she would believe me...”

He smirks fondly, nibbling on the inside of his cheek before his brows furrow, “Why wouldn’t she believe you? She must know how desirable she is right?”  

“Certainly not. She has no idea. Which is why I finally decided to take matters into my own hands.” You explain, propping your chin on the palm of your hand, “Rachel is a brilliant woman. She could easily run a small country if the opportunity was presented to her but, she has no concept of how wonderful she is.”

Jungkook pouts his lips, “I was certain she knew. How could someone that beautiful not understand their own beauty?”

You raise your brows, “Do you recognize yourself as desirable?”

He snickers, “Don’t be silly. I might be a suitable partner because of my status as a warrior but, I don’t think there is much else I have to offer. That’s what has me so worried...what if you’re wrong about her desire for me?”

With an incredulous look, you shake your head in disbelief, “The two of you amaze me. You’re so brilliant and yet- so foolish at the same time. I assure you; you have plenty to offer. The women in this village nearly faint every time you pass- quite frankly, you are incredibly handsome with an unusual amount of talent and-”

Jungkook is smirking, pleased with your response as he interrupts you, “I thought you were interested in my hyung Y/N-” He teases and snickers as you roll your eyes.

“That is neither here nor there.” You insist, “The point is, the courtship is worth pursuing because I believe it will go well. So I came here to suggest a plan...”

“What is your plan dear matchmaker?” He chuckles, folding his hands and resting them on the table.

“My plannnn is-” You draw out the word before leaning in closely and divulging your ideas.

You are elated when he agrees and feel slightly giddy at the thought of your dear friend meeting up with the potential love of her life.

Romance certainly is in the air.  

The plan is set in motion after a few more moments of talking and the conversation ends with Jungkook eagerly rushing back to his tent to prepare.

Feeling satisfied with your healthy dose of meddling, you brush your dress off and start towards the exit of the camp.  

However, the deep voice of your suitor stops you in your tracks, sending butterflies directly into your stomach.

“Leaving without a goodbye?” Yoongi calls softly, departing from his tent.

You turn with a smile on your face to see him fully dressed in his training attire: fitted black pants and a matching tunic, his sword strapped faithfully to his hip.

“I figured I caused enough havoc amongst your battalion today. Besides, I wasn’t sure if you’d be dressed and I didn’t want to disturb you.” You explain, your hands sliding down to play with the fabric of your dress.

“If havoc is putting a ridiculous smile on my brothers face than please feel free to wreak havoc anytime you wish. I have dreaded the day where I’d have to convince him to go after his potential partner and you’ve gone and lifted that responsibility from me.” He explains, stepping towards you a bit more “He says his meeting with her tomorrow evening?”

“If all goes well.” You reply, your face heating up in light of his presence, “My plans usually play out successfully.”

“I have no doubts about that.” He chuckles, his feline gaze glancing behind you momentarily before returning back to your face, “Will I be seeing you tonight?”

Pretending to toy with the idea, you narrow your eyes and place a finger on your chin, “I suppose its possible, if you aren’t too busy with your duties here...”

“My duties?” He places a hand on his chest, stepping closer to you once again, “If anyone were to be tied up with their duties, I imagine it would be you. Being a full-time apothecary is enough but, now you’ve gone and taken up matchmaking as well.” Yoongi’s eyes glint as he stares at you, “You never have to concern yourself with whether or not I’ll have time for you...”

You resist the urge to throw yourself at him, frustrated by the effect he has on you.

“Then I suppose you will see me then.”

He grins, “Good.”

For a few seconds, the two of you stew in silence before the need to kiss him becomes too much to bear and you take the steps necessary to wrap your arms behind his neck and place your lips against him.

You can hear his sharp intake of breath as you do, his hands securing themselves at the base of your back.  

The movements of the kiss escalate quickly, and you find yourself forgetting that you’re stood in the middle of a military camp, where anyone could walk out and see you both canoodling in the courtyard.

Yoongi seems to realize this too as he pulls away with heavy breath and hesitation all over his face.

“My my my...” He murmurs, shaking his head, “You really have no regard for my well-being do you?”

His light scolding causes you to giggle which in turn breaks the disapproving expression on his face.

“I’m trying to improve your well-being actually.” You insist, your fingers toying with the tendrils of hair at the back of his head, a dreamy smile on your mouth.

He raises his brows, “Oh? How do you figure that?”

Before you can reply, the rustling coming from behind Yoongi pulls you out of your conversation.

The rest of his battalion have seemingly woken up and are beginning to flock to the courtyard in preparation for their training.  

Glancing behind him, Yoongi sighs before turning back to you reluctantly, “Tonight?”

You offer him a smile and step back out of his grip, “Tonight.”

He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it before heading off to his men.

Tonight now seemed a century away despite the fact that the sun was already heading off towards the horizon.  

-The next day-

Your night with Yoongi followed the similar structure that it usually does.  

Deeping meaningful conversation, playful banter, difficult questions and well, a healthy dose of unresolved lust.  

He asserts the end to your displays of affection every time, offering the same words of comfort.

You’re fine with this of course.

You’d never want him to do anything he didn’t want to do, and you’d certainly want the first time you were intimate to be special.

However, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling dejected.

It’s not because Yoongi says it’s not the right time or that he doesn’t think the two of you were ready.

You respect him and his choices completely and would never attempt to coerce him beyond his initial responses but...

You are beginning to feel alone in your desire for him.  

For you, there has never been another to ignite such a powerful response within you.

You’ve never wanted anyone so badly.

It makes you feel insane and yet, here he is, so calm in his demeanor and easily able to refuse any opportunity to sate your hunger for one another.  

It’s very silly, you think, he is clearly interested in you.

He makes that very obvious.

And yet, you can’t help but feel confusion.  

He wouldn’t be in your village for much longer and soon enough you’d have to say goodbye for a length of time you’d rather not assign numerical value you to.

You wish you understood his intentions more and at the same time, you wish you were able to quell your desire for him.  

You did feel alone in that way.

Yoongi was an incredible, multi-faceted man with seemingly thousands of years’ worth of knowledge behind his eyes. He was open and yet so secretive all at once and because of that, you couldn’t understand why he behaved this way.

The two of you would intentionally rile each other up only for him to put a stop to things every time.

But it’s almost as if this was part of his plans with you all along.  

And you just couldn’t understand why.

So naturally, you end up running to the person who always keeps you grounded for advice: Rachel.

Although, after your conversation with Jungkook yesterday, you have multiple reasons for paying your friend a visit.

“He stopped things again before they went too far and-“ You sigh, looking down at her hands that secure a warm mug of tea, “I feel a little strange about it. I’m starting to feel like maybe he doesn’t desire me the way I desire him...”

Rachel is sat across from you on her sofa as she usually is, her legs tucked up on the cushion.  

She takes a sip of her tea before her brows furrow in disagreement as she shakes her head, “I sincerely doubt that. He was very, um...excited wasn’t he?”

He was, you think, and he usually is but that only adds to your confusion.

“I don’t know...” You groan, “...he says he is but- he keeps saying it’s not the right time. I’m worried I may be too lustful towards him; I’m wondering if it’s off putting.”

“He does not seem the type to play games. If he says it’s not the right time...he must have a right time in mind?” She suggests before looking at you pointedly, “And I don’t believe you are being lustful. Even if you were, what’s wrong with that”

Nothing.

Nothing is wrong with being lustful as long as you are being respectful which you can honestly say you are but, the insecurity you’re feeling is contributing to a bit of shame within you.

“I’ve never wanted anyone this way, I feel like I’m going mad. He seems so calm and collected and yet- here I am, flustered and confused. I’m used to having a handle on my emotions I guess and I wish I knew how he was able to keep himself so composed.” You ponder the end of her question, “There is nothing wrong with being lustful. I just don’t know if he feels the same if it’s so easy for him to control himself around me...”

Rachel nods along, her bright eyes listening intently before she pauses to think, “You know, you have to remember he is a ten-year veteran and the leader of the most elite military force in our country. He has so much control and discipline applied to himself in all areas, I can’t imagine he would be able to easily relinquish that control. Especially with someone he has so much affection for. I am certain it is not easy, merely well-practiced”

She has a point but then again, she usually does.  

You bite your lip, turning your attention to the fabric of the chair, picking at it, “You’re right. I suppose I’m being a little immature about this...I should just be more patient.”

It’s decided in your mind that you should move on to the other reason you came to visit her this evening: a deceitful conversation with a much happier ending.

“By the way, what are you doing this evening?”

She’s stood up now and striding over to the kitchen, rubbing your arm as she passes you, “You are not immature at all! I’m confident your general is worth the patience.” She assures you with a wink before she thinks to herself once again, “I don’t have anything in particular planned, why do you ask?”

You giggle at her wink and follow her with your eyes as she heads over to make herself another cup of tea, “I have a favor to ask you- that goes beyond our mutual agreement to keep each other sane.”

Rachel snickers and shakes her head, “I don’t know if there is much hope for our sanity but what do you need?”

You smile but it doesn’t totally reach your eyes, your mind annoyingly still occupied elsewhere, “You make a good point.” You concede before brightening your expression intentionally, “I had a customer today that inquired about the type of material the village school covers for children ages 3-5. They are considering enrolling their child this year and wanted to speak with a teacher. I was hoping you would be able to meet with them? I told them to stop by the school and speak with someone but I was hoping that someone could be you because you’re so experienced.”

Rachel brightens at the mention of a new student “Oh really? I would be happy to meet with them! At that it’s primarily playing games, reading stories and singing songs but I have a lovely little bunch of students that age already!” She cheers, clapping in front of her chest, excitedly.

Her joy is infectious, and you can’t help but grin despite your knowledge that she would certainly not be receiving a new student; you almost wish that she was though.  

“Great! Well they should be around right before sundown. I gave them your classroom number and a bit of background on you and the school.”

“Oh my goodness! That’s not far off...well I have to bring in the dried flowers for tomorrow’s art lesson anyway...oh and where did I put the new wax pencils. Did you see where I put them?” Rachel abandons her cup of tea on the counter and begins puttering around in the baskets on her kitchen table, completely distracted.  

You spot what she’s looking for and hold up set of pencils setting on the end table, “They’re right here..” You call, turning in the chair to hand them to her, “I would wear that blue dress of yours too, it’s very complimentary.” With this suggestion, you can’t help the glint in your eyes that shines through the bit of sadness still present there, “Well- thank you for your words of wisdom. I’m probably going to take a break from the river tonight, so I’ll be home if you need me for anything. I have no doubt that tonight will go wonderfully though...”

“Oh there they are!” She chirps, taking them from you before looking down at her current outfit, “I suppose I should change, I certainly look a bit of a mess...” She pauses then to look you, noticing the glimpse of sadness in your eyes. “Don’t hold yourself back from love, Y/N. Your general is certainly just as passionate about you. I would bet all the gold in the kingdom on it!”

The excitement and certainty in her tone is almost enough to pull you out of your funk but, the stubborn naysayer in your head has different plans.  

“No you don’t, you look wonderful! I just love the blue one on you.” You insist, before crossing your arms and slumping back against the chair, “I am not holding back, I’m just- trying to be reasonable I suppose. His passion is clearly controlled, and I guess I should work on controlling mine as well...” You explain matter of factly with a pout on your lips.

Rachel matches your pose as she steps around the chair to look directly at you, unconvinced, “Mmhmm. Perfectly reasonable.” She drawls sarcastically before chuckling when you attempt to kick your foot at her.  

“I am!” You assert, trying to hold back a smile, “I’m just some silly little girl fawning over the man of my dreams while he gets to CALMLY walk away like us canoodling against a tree doesn’t affect him- and I feel foolish for desiring him so much when he’s able to do so.”

Rachel lets out a cackle your display of frustration. “You are NOT a silly little girl. A silly grown woman? Maybe," She giggles, “but I am CERTAIN he wouldn’t have to address this “right time” so often if he didn’t desire you. Do what makes you feel powerful! But don’t play games with the poor Tiger’s heart needlessly...from what you have said he is a much gentler man than we’ve given him credit for. “Though,” She tilts her head, her hand coming up to fuss with her hair,  “you certainly shouldn’t seek advice from me. I spent the day with paste in my hair without realizing.”

Your pout deepens, “I would never play with his heart... I’m going insane with desire over here and he gets to be all collected like ‘when the right time comes- I promise you it will be worth the wait’ and oh look at me, I’m extremely handsome and I can just kiss passionately for minutes on end without going further...” You grumble haphazardly before you hesitate slightly, “Well I’m not sure what him being handsome has to do with it but you get my point.” A smile threatens your features even more when she mentions her hair, “Paste is all the rage darling, you are simply fashion forward. Besides- I have a feeling this uh- new student of yours will look out for you.”  

Rachel hugs herself as she laughs at your little outburst, “It has EVERYTHING to do with it! You know it does-” She accuses playfully, “I do get your point though. I’m certain you will meet again...and say what’s on your mind! You are much better at that than I am anyway.” Rachel’s face is full of hesitation then, shaking her head, “Most of my students “look out for me” by piling dandelions on my desk and leaving goopy handprints on my clothes...I hope this new student is sweet.”

A smirk plays on your lips then, dropping your other topic of conversation, “I’m sure they will be, their parents seemed nice enough...”

”Oh really?!? Do you know anything about them? Should I bring anything along? Are you sure they want to see me? Should I get going?!” She babbles excitedly, glancing towards her front door.

Her eagerness serves as your cue to head out, your stomach brewing with hunger, nerves and excitement.

You couldn’t wait to hear how tonight will go for her.

“It is almost sundown so I suppose I should get going...” You concedes with a sigh before offering her a genuine smile, patting her shoulder as you head towards the door, “Just bring your lovely self, they are very eager to meet you.”

“Okay, if you’re certain!” Rachel smiles, gathering a collection of dried flowers into a basket before heading for the door with you, “If you change your mind and go to the river after all YOU HAD BETTER TELL ME!”

“You look amazing-” You promise as you step past her through the doorway, “I have a feeling you’ll have more to tell me the next time we meet but I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

Rachel looks confused for a moment before merely shrugging it off, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “Okay then, I’m off! I love you ok? Hang in there...”

You embrace her shortly unable to help the growth in your smile, “I love you too. I wanna hear about the meeting tomorrow ok?”

She agrees happily, already bounding off towards the schoolhouse, a basket of flowers in her hand.

Despite the uncertainty you may feel about your own romantic life, you are filled with joy at the thought of your dear friend starting a fairytale of her own.  

Even though she has absolutely no idea...

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

Rachel arrives at the schoolhouse just before sundown, using her master key to unlock the heavy oak door of the main entrance before heading off to her classroom.  

The windows surrounding the exterior of the schoolyard allow for the different hues of the sunset to stream in thorough the glass, providing a beautiful stroll down the hallway.

Rachel feels optimistic as she opens up the door, immediately setting the basket of flowers on a nearby desk and lighting the various lanterns around the room.  

The sun would be up for another half an hour or so but, Rachel was unsure as to how long this meeting would go so a little extra light wouldn’t hurt.

Since she doesn’t have a concrete time of arrival, she decides to busy herself with a bit of prep work and light cleaning for the next school day. She figures that if a parent were to walk in on her likes this, it might add to their overall impression of the school.  

A teacher’s work is never done.

After roughly 40 minutes or so, Rachel is beginning to worry that this parent potentially changed their mind. That is until, a light knock sounds on the outside of her door.

“Come in!” She calls brightly, standing up from behind her desk.

She has no expectations for what her visitor might look like as she honestly hadn’t even considered it since you asked her this favor. However, the man who walks in through her door most certainly is not who she would have ever expected.

Because the man who just walked in, is Jungkook.

Tall, strong, doe-eyed, shaggy haired, WARRIOR Jungkook...

The terror cub himself has now found his way inside her classroom.  

And she is both terribly confused and terribly excited all at once.

“Good evening,” She chokes out, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress, “Forgive me but- you're not the person I’m meant to meet with are you? Did you see any folks outside, looking a bit lost perhaps?”

Jungkook looks terrified but he steps inside nonetheless, one of his hands positioned awkwardly behind his back.

“Uh- Hi, I mean- Good evening mam...” He bows before her, “Um...” He shuffles forward a bit, his eyes scanning the room for a moment, “Heretheseareforyou.” Jungkook rushes out, shoving a bouquet of fresh daisies onto one of the empty desks, his eyes averting Rachel’s very confused expression, “I am the person you’re meant to meet actually...”

Rachel gasps to herself as she spots the daisies, her heart immediately picking up in her chest, “Oh! Oh goodness thank you, that’s very kind of you...” She smiles, her hands seemingly frozen in place at the front of her dress, “I’m- I’m so confused I apologize. Do you have children?”

He shakes his head, his floppy black hair following the motions. He is dressed in a pair of tan linen pants and a rather tight-fitting white peasant blouse, the golden expanse of his chest on full display, his feet tucked into a pair of leather boots. Rachel does her best to ignore how good he looks but, he makes it very difficult.

“No I don’t.” He answers, cringing slightly at the juvenile nature of this situation, “You know Y/N right?”

Rachel giggles, the sound a little higher pitched than usual, “I do yes. We’ve been friends since we were children...”

“Heh yeah, sorry I knew that but uh- so Y/N...” He begins, his hands coming up to assist in his explanation, “She paid me a visit earlier and suggested that...welll- She suggested that I pay you a visit.”

“Oh well- is everything alright? Are you in need of my assistance?” She inquires softly, her face decorated with concern.

Jungkook’s chest is filled with warmth at the sight of her unease, feeling very lucky to be the object of her concern.

“Everything’s ok I just- I wasn’t sure how to go about speaking with you.” He hesitates, feeling a bit of discomfort as he tries to find a way to explain his presence here, “I know you’re a very busy woman and I wasn’t even sure if you’d even want to speak with me which- by the way, if you’re uncomfortable with my presence, please let me know. I don’t want to be a bother...”

Rachel shakes her head instantly, her hands coming up to stop him from continuing that train of thought, “No- no not all! I mean-” She clears her throat, “You aren't a bother at all, I would love to speak with you. Although, forgive me- I'm a little confused as to what you’d like to speak about. Is it the school? Are you interested in meeting with the students?”

Jungkook grins softly and shakes his head, “No mam. I mean- I wouldn’t be opposed to meeting with them but, I am more interested in meeting with you...”

She gulps, her eyes widening a bit as she places a hand to her chest, “Me?”

He bites his lip and Rachel swears she sees a sparkle in his eyes as he steps closer to her.

“Yes mam. I uh-” His throat bobs with his own uncomfortable swallow as he shoves his hand in the pocket of his pants, pulling out a piece of crumbled parchment, “ I have travelled many miles. I have seen the mountains, the ocean and the forest. I have seen the sun in east and the moon in the west. I have seen the royal palace and all the riches it contains. I have seen all a man would need to see in his lifetime and yet, I have never felt complete until my eyes fell upon your face.”  

Comically, Rachel’s mouth has fallen open, her face colored with shock.  

Her heart seemingly freezes in her chest as Jungkook’s nervous gaze leaves the parchment and gazes up towards her.

“I wrote this when I was 17.” He begins sheepishly, “I promised myself that I would read it for the woman who captured my heart...”

Rachel inhales shakily, a slight sting in her eyes as emotion overcomes her.

“But you just read it to me...”

He chuckles warmly, his hand tucking a bit of hair behind his ear, “I did.”

“Am I-?” She begins but Jungkook cuts her off, stepping towards her a bit more.

“I know it’s a bit much isn’t it? I’ve never been very good with subtly and with my departure looming in the background, I couldn’t help but confess to you while I still had time. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and your existence makes me warm. I haven’t felt warmth like this before and I- I guess I just wanted to see if I had a chance at courting you...”

Rachel finally closes her mouth for a moment only to cover it with her hand.  

She’s in complete disbelief that this is happening, but she responds nevertheless as best as she can.

“You- you have more than chance, you have a million chances I- oh wow, I feel a little faint goodness gracious...” She sighs, fanning herself as she leans against her desk, “I don’t understand...”

He rushes over to her then, a look of concern on his face, “Are you alright? Do you need some water or something?”

She shakes her head, letting out a shaky breath at the close proximity between them, immediately noticing the way he smells like amber and rosemary.

It warm, just like he is.

“I’m ok, I just-” She looks up at him, “I honestly cannot believe you feel this way about me. I’m just a schoolteacher, I probably have paste in my hair...and you’re a warrior I- I'm confused.”

Jungkook snickers, tilting his head to the side as he spots the bit of paste still clinging to the end of her hair. With gentle fingers, he reaches out and extracts the bit of dried gunk from her hair, discarding it on the desk, “You are not ‘just’ anything. You are bright and warm. Your duty lies with educating the children and I believe that to be far nobler than what I do. Please don’t sell yourself short, especially not on my account.”

Subconsciously, they seem to lean into one another, Rachel’s nerves dissipating slightly, “So then, you said you wish to court me yes? How- how do you intend we do this?”

He purses his lips, “Well,” He tilts his head to the side, “I would love to have dinner with you. I know that there aren’t many eateries in the village but-”

“I can cook for us!” She chirps happily cause his grin to broaden, “I know a spot we can eat, it’s really beautiful and it’s private for the most part.”

Jungkook is bursting with fondness, nodding eagerly at her suggestion before turning around to grab the flowers, “That sounds wonderful. Are you available tomorrow, same time?”

“Yes! I mean-” She clears her throat as the volume of her voice escapes her, “Yes, yes I’m free. I can meet you at the plaza?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll meet you anywhere you’d like...” He nods and haphazardly pushes the flowers in her direction, “Here, I picked these for you. I’ll pick more tomorrow as well- do you have a favorite? I hope daisies were alright...I’m not familiar with the flora around here.”

She smiles brightly, accepting the flowers graciously, securing them to your chest, “These are perfect! I love wildflowers, really anything that grows along the east part of the river...” She muses thoughtfully, “Daisies are some of my favorites as well. I’m sure Y/N told you that though...” She giggles but Jungkook shakes his head.

“She didn’t actually. I suppose it was just a lucky guess.” He smiles before stepping back slightly, fiddling with his hands now that they are empty, “So tomorrow then?”

With another rapid nod she responds, “Yes, tomorrow.”

“Great! Well uh-” He hesitates, glancing longingly towards her lips before extending his hand, “May I?”

With a harsh swallow and a shaky hand, she obliges, sticking her hand out towards his.

As if she were made of glass, Jungkook carefully raises her hand to his lips before placing a chaste kiss over the ridges of her knuckles, “Until tomorrow...”

“Until tomorrow.” She squeaks, covering her mouth once more.

He bows his head, offering another devastating grin before leaving the classroom.

With a hefty sigh, Rachel stares at the door in disbelief.

“It seems as though my dear friend isn’t an apothecary but a criminal mastermind...” She muses to herself, her cheeks on fire as she giggles to herself, “Huh, you think you know people.”

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

You decided shortly after your meeting with Rachel that you would in fact be going to the river because, regardless of your uncertainty: you still wanted to see Yoongi.  

“Something is troubling you...” He notes the moment he steps out from behind the trees, dressed down in a pair of black pants and a longer gray linen robe to ward of the slight chill in the air.

“What makes you say that?” You challenge with a grin, your heart fluttering as soon as you see him, “I’m just hoping my plan is playing out as I’d hoped...”

“Ah-” He lifts a finger, “I recall you saying that your plans play out relatively well. Also, you and I both know that my brother and your friend are smitten over one another so- I find it hard to believe your thinking so hard about a clear victory.”

You bite your lip, unsure of what to say next as Yoongi has so clearly seen right through you.  

“We don’t get much time together; it would be a waste to spend it discussing the internal monologue going on inside my head.” You joke, stepping towards him.

He clicks his tongue, “Now see- that is where you’re wrong. It was your internal monologue and your resulting opinions that drew me to visit you in the first place. The other talents your lips have are merely a bonus.” He smirks but his eyes hold some degree of concern, “I want to know what’s on your mind Y/N...no matter how insignificant you may find it.”

Yoongi’s sincerity draws you out of your shell, your heart picking up slightly at the thought of discussing your feelings.

“It’s silly...” You warn him causing him to chuckle.

“Good, I could use a bit of silliness after today.” He promises with a grin but his laughter dissipates as he notices even the slightest bit of distress on your face, “Your thoughts aren’t silly Y/N, at least not to me. I’d really like to hear what you’re thinking.”

Gnawing on your bottom lip, you take a deep breath and muster up the courage to be honest with him, “What are your intentions with me?”

He tilts his head, stepping closer to you after your question, face decorated with curiosity, “Which intentions are you referring to?”

You feel yourself growing nervous under his gaze but, you stay strong anyway and push through, “All of them- I suppose. It’s just that, I’m having difficulty...I’m-”

The hesitation in your features concerns Yoongi and he can’t help but quell the distance between you, taking your hands gently in his own.

“My girl- what's troubling you like this? Have I upset you?”

He’s tilting his head, trying to find your gaze as you look down at where your hands are connected.

His question causes you to look up at him, lips parted as you shake your head.

“No, no of course not.” You assure him, entwining your fingers with his, “I just- oh I promise you it’s going to sound silly...”

Yoongi chuckles incredulously, gently shaking your hands in his grip, “Y/N, darling please tell me what’s on your mind. I promise you I won’t find think it’s silly.”

Your heart sings at the pet name he gives you, taking a momentary break from it’s uneven rhythm, “I’ve just been wondering why you haven’t...well, why we haven’t- why we haven’t been intimate.”

Yoongi’s chest tightens with realization, his grip on your hands tightening ever so slightly before taking a deep breath, “There is nothing silly about that at all.” He assures you with a gentle smile, his eyes shifting from your hands to your face and back again whilst he tries to come up with a response, “It’s a perfectly normal thing to be curious about, especially considering how often we kiss. To be quite honest, my reasoning is probably what will end up sounding silly to you...”

“I don’t think it will, I just want to understand where your head is at because,” You sigh, looking into his eyes, “sometimes I feel alone in how much I desire you and I thought maybe if I got an idea where your head is at, I could understand why you always stop things before they go too far.”

At this, Yoongi raises his brows, “You think you’re alone in the desire to take me to bed?” He confirms, his voice deepening, a ghost of a smirk on his lips, “And here I thought you were clever...”

With a pout to your lips, you playfully tug your hands out of his grip causing him to chuckle before capturing them once again, “I am clever! Clever people get confused all the time, besides you just said this was a perfectly normal thing to be curious about.”

He laughs still and nods, guiding your hands up to his shoulders, “Yes I did. However, I was referring to you wondering why we haven’t gone to bed together yet, not you wondering whether or not I wanted to take you to bed. That IS silly...”

“It’s not though...” You insist, a shiver running down your spine as he slides his freed hands around your waist, “You always seem so composed. We’ll have been kissing for what feels like forever and then- you stop us. Which is ok of course but, I just don’t fully understand why.”

He hums thoughtfully with a smirk still on his lips as he pulls you closer to him, “My composure is an illusion Y/N. My job requires me to have complete control all of the time, especially in the face of an enemy...”

Scoffing, your pout deepens at the end of his sentence, “Oh so I'm your enemy now? Gee Yoongi, I’m so glad I decided to share this with you- I feel much better now.”

Yoongi laughs heartily at your sarcasm before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You are an enemy to my composure darling- you are just refusing to realize that.”

His kiss causes your heart to sing with satisfaction, despite the fact that you are trying very hard to focus on pouting.

“Even if that were true...I still feel silly for how much I desire you.”

He quells the playfulness between the two of you then, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek, “You are not silly, and you are not alone. My entire world has shifted because of you. I think you’d be shocked if you knew how much you occupied my thoughts.” He assures you, placing another kiss on your forehead, “However, that isn’t the answer to your question is it? You’re wondering why we haven’t gone to bed together despite how much we desire each other.”  

“Yes.” You murmur, leaning against his hand, “If you have any insight on this general, please provide a briefing...”

He smirks fondly, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “You really have no idea how much I want you. I don’t think I could possibly explain it. Because of that, I want to wait until I can give you everything I have. Right now I- I simply can’t.” He admits, a bit of sadness now in his tone, “I want to wait until I have a proper villa, until I don’t have to worry about leaving at dawn to continue training, until I can stay underneath the sheets with you, until I can spend hours pleasing you- without the threat of war in the back of my mind. You deserve a man with no distractions, right now- I'm just not that man yet.”

His explanation makes perfect sense and you feel a bit of guilt for ever wondering how he felt about you in the first place but before you’re able to comment on his words, he speaks again.

“But please- please don’t think that means I don’t desire you.” He whispers, smiling softly whilst he places yet another kiss to your forehead. Letting his lips linger there, he sighs hopelessly, “One day, when I am finally free of my duties- I will spend days memorizing your skin with my lips...” He begins kissing his way down the bridge of your nose, puckering his lips gently as he does. He bypasses your lips however and uses his hand to tilt your head to the side, give him access to your neck, “I will memorize every bump,” He kisses your skin, “every curve,” Kiss “every line,” Kiss “every scar,” Kiss “every spot that gives you pleasure.” He inhales softly through his nose when he hears you gasp, your hands tightening on his shoulders, “Will you wait for me darling? Will you wait until I can give you my soul? My heart is already yours, I just need a little bit longer....”

You’re already nodding, certain with your response despite how much his presence is currently affecting you, “I’d wait for you forever, General Min.”

You can feel him grin against your neck, “I only need six months...” He chuckles, his laughter increasing as you playfully smack his back. “Then I’m yours forever.”

At his amendment, you smile and kiss the side of his head, “Forever sounds nice.”

Yoongi sighs, sliding his hands across your back to pull you into his embrace, “Forever it is then.”  

[it-was-summer]

Video Killed The Radio Star- Chapter 7 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: thank you all for being patient with me and for reading my series! Happy Sunday to you all and I think that if I update every Sunday it will work out fine! If school gets in the way I will let you all know! Please take care of yourselves and be happy!!

Warnings: Overall fluff, two dorks being dorks, etc.

Plot: Things start to feel better with Spencer around. Spencer and you enjoy a nice spring Saturday and Spencer gets an enticing invitation. 

Word Count: 3.1K

It was childish to want to look cute for a friend, a cute friend, but still a friend. You were trying on outfit after outfit, eyes always drifting to the black boot stuck on your leg. In the end, you settled on a simple tee-shirt and jeans combo. You wanted to admit that the tee-shirt didn’t have a slightly low v-neck, and you also wanted to admit that your hair wasn’t a beautiful mess of brush out curls. You were trying your hardest to look both casual and stunning, the way heroines did in romance novels, but the longer you looked in the mirror you felt painfully obvious.

Spencer told you he had the upcoming weekend off, and lucky for him you had another two months off, so it worked out perfectly. You tore your eyes away from your reflection, confidence falling as you stared at the clock propped up on your desk. It was twenty minutes till noon, and you had suggested a near-by cafe.

If you didn’t count the time spent with your mother this would be your first time out of the house since the incident, a shiver caressed your spine. You drew in a calming breath, eyes closing as you exhaled. You didn’t have the mental capacity for a mental breakdown today, you needed him to see that you were fine. Stable.

Your lips turned up in a nervous smile as you limped over to your purse and crutches, trying your best to keep the strap slung over your shoulder. You had called a cab ahead of time, you would’ve walked, but you didn’t want to arrive with sweat dripping down your back.

The cab dropped you off early, giving you ample time to find a place to sit and wait. The wait also gave you plenty of time to silently panic; did this seem like a date? Did you look like you were ready for a date? What if he thought you looked bad? You rubbed your palms against your jeans, sweat clingy to them desperately, so much for the cab ride.

Spencer spotted you before you spotted him, a smile taking over his face immediately, watching as you talked to the waitress with a kind smile. It wasn’t until she was gone that you saw him, waving him over with a loud giggle. Spencer felt a familiar feeling swimming in his chest, the feeling of beating wings, a small gust of wind brought him back. Spencer sat across from you, smiling wide, “Hi,”

A nervous laugh erupted from you, “Hey,” you took in his appearance; messy hair, clean face, beige slacks, and a dark blue sweater-vest. “Blue looks nice on you.” you hear yourself say unexpectedly, surprising yourself and Spencer simultaneously.

“Blue?” Spencer repeats as he looks down at the sweater vest covering his chest, a tiny laugh escaping his lips.

You feel your mouth open against your will, words spewing out, “I don’t know why I said that, I just noticed that your eyes look nice in dark blue, and the sweater-vest is a nice shade of navy,”

“Thank you,” Spencer cuts you off in a gentle tone, eyes meeting yours quickly.

“You’re welcome,” you muttered softly as the waitress made a reappearance. After having a glance at the menu, Spencer ordered a peppermint tea, and you ordered a coffee. As she left the two of you alone, you tilted your head towards the side.

“Is peppermint tea your favorite?”

“I would say it’s in the top three,” Spencer joked lightly, trying to relax under your gaze. Even if the two of you were here just as friends, the way the sunlight was illuminating your hair made Spencer’s throat tighten with anxiety. “It calms me down to drink something nice and,” Spencer noticed how fast he was talking, “Warm. Something nice and warm,” he repeated slower, calming himself down.

You leaned in slightly, “I loved the tea and the book, it was very thoughtful.” you resisted the urge to reach for his hand that was resting on the table, retreating into your seat nervously.

“I’m not a big coffee drinker,” Spencer paused, “Well, actually, I am! I just need the coffee to be extremely sweet.”

“Oh, you’re one of those.” Your voice carried a playful tone as you trailed off.

“One of what?”

“Those people. They need to have cream, sugar, and a dollop of coffee!”

Spencer looked at you, eyes wide, “A dollop?”

“A dollop, yes.”

“That’s the word you’re going to use?”

“Do you have a problem with it, Doctor?” you teased him, tension leaving as you heard Spencer chuckling across the table. The wind blew his hair into his face and you swore you could smell the faint smell of peppermint and aftershave. Your eyes darted towards his lips for a second before the waitress set a cup in front of you. “Oh, thank you.”

Spencer gave a quick thanks to the waitress, eyes staying on you as your cheeks became a tinted pink. You were looking around, eyes never focusing on one thing for too long. Something was making you nervous, and Spencer couldn’t help but feel like he had done something wrong. “Is everything alright?”

You poured a small amount of cream into your coffee with a false smile, heart-pounding inside your chest, “I’m fine,”

“You seem tense,”

“I just had an intrusive thought,” you lied as you stirred in some sugar. You couldn’t tell him about your dreams, the two of you were friends and it was the first time the two of you were together under normal circumstances. You didn’t want to ruin this, you couldn’t ruin this.

Spencer noticed the lie and let it slide as he nodded. He blew on his tea carefully, eyes peeking over the rim to stare at you. When you looked up from your coffee, he simply blocked his vision by taking a sip of his tea. When he brought down his cup, he noticed that you were staring out onto the street. He followed your gaze slowly, children walked hand and hand with their parents, the wind shook budding trees and a couple was kissing on the sidewalk.

“Sorry,” you broke Spencer away from his thought, head turning to look at you. “Sometimes I get distracted,” you explained, the light hue of your cheeks turning a shade darker. Whenever you looked at him, the only thing that you could see was his eyes, his lips. Then all you could think about was how wonderful those lips would feel pressed against yours.

Spencer could feel your eyes on him, he watched as your eyes would dip between his lips and then his eyes, repeating the movement over and over again till he felt his cheeks heating up. He convinced himself that you saw the couple and thought about him for a moment. It wasn’t uncommon for things like that to happen, and the idea of you liking him flew over his head effortlessly.

You took a calming sip of coffee, closing your eyes as you sipped the beverage, letting the warmth of the liquid warm your chest. Once you felt less flustered you opened your eyes slowly, setting down your cup with a tiny sigh. “Spencer,” Spencer’s eyes were already on you “Describe your perfect day,” you demanded gently, hands moving as you spoke.

Spencer let out a chortle, “What?”

“Tell me about your perfect day!” you urged, a tiny giggle escaping you for a second. “Do it Miss United States style,”

“A beauty pageant?”

“A scholarship program according to the movie ‘Miss Congeniality’,” Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you let out an audible gasp, feeling like a teenager. “Come on! The movie! Sandra Bullock is this F.B.I agent and she has to go undercover!” You explained desperately as Spencer only shook his head ‘no’.

Your hands covered your mouth, hiding the beaming smile on your face as you giggled. “Oh you would hate it,” you teased gently before letting your hands drop back down onto your lap.

“Do you still want me to describe my perfect day?”

“Very much so, yes!” you answered, scooting closer to the edge of your chair.

Spencer nodded a little, looking off to the side as he tried to think. Most of his days were spent chasing after murders, sometimes he wondered if he would ever have a perfect day; a day where he didn’t think about death. He clicked his tongue gently, “ I think it would be a Saturday,” he began, watching as you closed your eyes. He smiled as he continued, “I wouldn’t wake up before the sunrise and I would be able to sleep in, the phone is off, and by ten o’clock I’ve had breakfast.”

You opened one eye, waiting for him to continue, “Spencer, I need more than that.” you declared, closing your eyes once again.

“Fine, fine!” he hummed gently, fingers tapping against the table. “I’m with someone, maybe someone who cares about me?” Spencer questioned himself gently. “We’re not going anywhere, not talking to anyone, we’re just staying inside and watching ‘Doctor Who’.” He said, his cheeks burning as he watches you hold back a sound of adoration.

You open your eyes, clapping your hands together quickly. “I love that!”

“You do?”

“It’s very cute and relaxing. I imagined you in your pajamas, I’m thinking plaid?”

Spencer shook his head in disbelief, laughing with you. As the laughter died down, he decided it was your turn. “Okay, tell me about your perfect day,” he said, leaning forward to rest his head on his hand.

“Mine?” you said, motioning towards yourself quickly. “Well, I pick Saturday for my day as well. It’s wintertime and it’s snowing, not in a crazy blizzard way, but in a calming way. I would probably think about playing in the snow, but the heater would win that battle.” You played with the coffee stirrer, “I would stay inside, most likely watching adaptations of books turned into a film, before giving up and watching some ‘Doctor Who’.” you finished confidently, lifting your head to look back up at Spencer, a giddy smile on his face.

“You said ‘Doctor Who’ because that’s what I said didn’t you?”

“Don’t tell me that you think  you’re the only one who watches that show, Spencer.”

“Well, obviously not,”

“Good,”

Spencer sent you a playful glare as you rolled your eyes at him, “You stole my perfect day, Y/N.”

“No, I simply made it better,”

“Sure,” Spencer scoffed as he watched your smile fall into a comfortable grin, feeling his face doing the same.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“No, it’s my turn!” Spencer snapped back at you in a playful tone, biting his lip as he tried to think of a question. “Would you ever want to be famous?”

“Oh, Doctor Reid!” you exclaimed, tapping the rim of your coffee cup as you gave the question some thought. “No, I don’t think I would ever want to be famous.” you paused for a second, “The money would be great and I would like the recognition, but I don’t think I could deal with the paparazzi and all the drama.”

Spencer nodded slowly, agreeing with your reasoning quickly. Spencer would hate the attention and he would hate the dramatics even more. “I couldn’t do it either,”

“But, if you were famous, what would it be for?”

“Hopefully, something intellectual,”

“Like a Nobel prize?”

“Probably,” Spencer watches as you relax in the chair, feeling consciously better that you seem better now. He knew that it could have all been a mask for him, a mask to cover up how you were actually doing. He wore a mask for a while, sometimes the mask would fall and sometimes it would get harder to take off. He knew what it was like to pretend that everything was okay, to pretend that everything was going to be okay. Spencer debated asking how you were for a second, but if you wanted him to know how you were, you would tell him.

You took a long drink from your cup, silently trying to come up with more questions to ask Spencer. You wanted to know more about him, you wanted to be a good friend. Yeah, a good friend. “Are you happy that you’ve got the weekend off?”

Spencer nodded quickly as you set down your cup, “Usually the weekend is paperwork or taken over by another case.”

You bit your lip, mulling over a question, “Do they ever get to you?”

Spencer inhaled slowly, thinking about the best way to answer, “They get to all of us, but it’s the job. It’s not easy and we try our best.” he answered, feeling satisfied as your lips turned up into a gentle smile.

“I can’t help but think that you’re amazing,” you confessed sweetly, cheeks heating up instantly. Spencer could feel heat rush towards his face, feeling very hot all of the sudden. You laughed, trying to cover up your nervous fidgeting, “No, I know that you’re amazing. Especially you, Spencer.”

Spencer felt his mouth go dry, he brought the cup of tea to his lips, trying to remain calm. He wasn’t the best when it came to compliments, he would always find himself rambling and the team would send him a look. People said he was smart and that he was intelligent, but he never heard the word amazing, it didn’t seem like he was amazing. Morgan was amazing, Prentiss and Hotch were amazing, Garcia was incredibly amazing, while Spencer was just … Spencer. “Thank you,” was all he could manage.

Your smile grew, teeth showing, “I can’t express how much you’ve helped me,”

“I didn’t do anything amazing,”

“Spencer, you sent me your favorite tea, and Oscar Wilde, you’re my white knight.” You said, laughing as you watched Spencer’s face grow a noticeable shade of red. You had to admit that he was your savior. He had helped you through the dark parts of the night and sometimes the darker parts of days. You knew that if you needed him, he would help you. He was amazing.

Spencer’s mind was still repeating the words ‘white knight’ over and over again, trying to make sense of it all. “Peppermint has great healing effects and tea, especially, has great benefits!” he babbled, the sentence coming out at the speed of lightning. “In fact, the amino acid that teas carry, theanine, helps with balancing your hormones as you drink it.”  You nodded quickly, not seeming to mind that he was spewing random facts.

“Did you know that ancient civilizations, like ancient Greece and ancient Egypt, used to use peppermint as medicine?” You giggled lightly. “I googled some things about peppermint tea after you sent me some,” you admitted to him cheerfully.

Spencer felt the tension in his back dissipate, finding it comforting that you didn’t seem frustrated with him for babbling. Instead, you seemed to have enjoyed it, it didn’t seem to bother you at all. He heard your laugh and found that the sound was butterfly-inducing, a giddy smile reaching his face as he laughed along with you.

---

Spencer insisted that he walk you back to your apartment, as well as insisting that walking would be good for you as you hadn’t been out of the house in a couple of days. So, how were you supposed to refuse, he won you over with the offer with those beautiful brown eyes, you were sure of it. Your crutches made a soft clicking sound every time you moved, but you were too busy listening to Spencer talk about Oscar Wilde.

This was every librarian’s dream, to have an intelligent and dreamy man walk you home as he talks to you about the symbolism in Oscar Wilde’s ‘Nightingale and the Rose’. He demanded that it’s the story for true romantics, while you argued it was a story for hopeless romantics. Whenever you said that he would say that they were the same thing, making you laugh.

As your apartment building came into view, you felt your legs become weaker, almost like jelly. “Spencer,” you muttered as the two of you stopped outside of the lobby, “Thank you,”

Spencer’s brows knitted together in confusion, “For?”

“Being with me today,” you admitted, feeling lame as he stared at you. “I already owe so much to you,”

“You don’t owe me anything,”

“I do,” you pressed quickly, standing straighter with the help of your crutches. “I owe you some much, you didn’t have to do all of this,” you motioned between the two of you with a grin, “but you did, you’ve been such a great friend and so helpful. I can’t thank you enough.”

Spencer smiled at your thanks and simply shrugged before saying, “It's what I would want if I was in your position, I’m sorry the only thing I can offer you is a helping hand.”

“Your helping hand has been the best thing to happen to me in a long time, so, again, thank you.” you conceded, your legs no longer feeling weak as you finished. Your mind reminded you gently that the two of you had been here before, in a dream once. Shoving the thought down you smiled up at him nervously, “Would you want to come up and maybe watch an episode of ‘Doctor Who’?” you offered, your voice breaking slightly due to anxiety.

Spencer tried his best not to looked shocked at your offer, every bone in his body screamed that he should accept, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or for it to be weird,”

“Why would it be weird? It will be like your perfect day,” you assured him sweetly, heart beating fast at the thought of his rejecting your offer. Spencer swiped his tongue over his lips nervously and you knew that it was probably a bad idea to invite him up. It was probably a bad idea, yes, but you found that you didn’t really care. You wanted him to be around you, you wanted to be with him, just as friends.

Spencer slowly nodded, “Okay, sure,” he settles, feeling slightly more confident as you break out into a bright smile. “Who’s your favorite Doctor anyway?”

“What a silly question, you’re my favorite Doctor, obviously,”

“No, I meant in the show-”

“I know, that was me messing with you, genius.”

Spencer felt his heart crawling into his throat as he watched you get into the elevator. You frowned at him, waiting for him to get into the elevator, “Come on, Doctor.” You urged him quickly as he shuffled into the elevator. A small thought came to mind as he listened to you hum along to the elevator music, maybe he lied earlier, maybe today was the perfect day.

[seokmingiggles]

comfortable.

@gloryofroses19 requested on 201219: “Would you write a fluff Min Yoongi one shot where he’s crushing on Jimin and Taehyung’s fellow 95er best friend who’s birthday is 11 days before Taehyung’s (aka today), so she and Yoongi get together when he find her taking a break on a balcony at a surprise birthday party they threw for her (lying to her that it was for Taehyung) even though they know she hates the idea of being the center/doesn’t like making a big deal about her birthday?”

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers(?), first confessions.

1.96k words

Warnings: some alcohol consumption.

At your surprise birthday party, you find yourself to be more enamoured by the musician accompanying you on your balcony than the happenings inside. Alternatively, where Yoongi has been waiting for the opportune moment to confess to you, unknowing that his feelings are mutual.

A/N: First of all, thank you for being my first request! I hope I’ve done your concept justice :) There are a couple of small details that I haven’t included, but the overall gist should be the same. I hope you enjoy it! And happy birthday if it’s anyone’s birthday who may be reading!

•• "I can't believe you two! This looks amazing. Thank you," Jimin beamed as he spun around to look at the array of decorations you and Taehyung had embellished his apartment with earlier that afternoon.

For Jimin's 25th birthday, you wanted to do something special. The boy was the biggest libra you knew—loving to host parties and social gatherings. While parties weren't typically your cup of tea, you and Taehyung knew that Jimin would appreciate the sentiment.

"I think we make a pretty good team, right, (Y/N)-ie?" Taehyung smiled back at Jimin's praise, patting your shoulder as he referred to you.

•

Only a couple of months later, you found yourself in a similar situation.

"Surprise!" A chorus of voices called out as you stepped into your apartment, Taehyung nudging you through the doorway as you were momentarily stunned.

"What's all this?" You forced a smile and directed the question to your tall friend beside you, slipping your shoes off and proceeding to remove your outerwear. You could already feel your face beginning to heat at all of the gazes directed at you.

Taehyung chortled, "It's for you, obviously. Happy birthday, (Y/N)-ie."

You had just been out for your annual birthday dinner with Taehyung and Jimin, your two best friends for many years. You should have suspected something when the elder suddenly stood from across the table shortly before he finished his meal, claiming he got an emergency text from his brother and had to leave right away. Really, the blond just wanted to make sure everything at your place was properly prepared before your arrival. Jimin picked up some last-minute snacks and drinks on his way to your apartment where everyone else was waiting patiently for your appearance.

You scanned the room around you. Where you'd normally have your comfortable, minimalist furnishings occupying the room, you found yourself standing before what had to be nearly a dozen people. You knew everyone here, that wasn't an issue. Instead, the matter was you simply didn't find joy in parties—even your own birthday party—despite the kind gesture from your two best friends who you knew put this gathering together out of love.

Your eyes landed on Seokjin, who was standing at your kitchen island having a conversation with Moonbyul and Sana; the two girls were laughing at something the eldest had said. Hoseok, Namjoon, and Nayeon, three you weren't completely familiar with, went to greet Taehyung behind you after wishing you a happy birthday. Mingyu and Jungkook were sitting on the sofa, each already with a drink in their hands. Yoongi sat in the armchair next to them; the youngest was beckoning you over to join them. As you were still a bit bewildered by the noise of the party, Jimin collected your hand and guided you to join him and the other three in the seating area.

Jimin took a seat on the floor after stealing a couch cushion to sit on, wanting to be close to the array of snacks organized on your coffee table. You figured it was because he had left the restaurant before he finished the last bits of his dinner (which Taehyung had no problem volunteering his stomach to handle the few remaining bites). You squished onto the end of the couch next to Mingyu, declining the offer of a drink that the boy held out to you as you sat down. Jimin accepted the drink on your behalf and the three gave a brief toast to you.

You eyed Yoongi for a moment. You knew him as a like-minded individual to yourself, in the sense that he also wasn't too fond of parties. Maybe that's why he was occupied with something on his phone. You noticed the slight pink tinge to his cheeks, likely from the beer, you considered, spotting the can on the side table next to him.

In reality, Yoongi was forcing himself to keep his eyes on his phone because he's sure he'd otherwise be caught admiring you. He already took in the pretty blush on the apples of your cheeks and the way you styled your hair nicely for your dinner with Jimin and Taehyung.

Yoongi didn't let himself have crushes very often, yet, he was unmistakably drawn to you. With your airy laughter and bright eyes and the most beautiful smile; how you'd appear lively even though he knew you were uncomfortable in party settings. Words couldn't encompass the effect you had on Yoongi. He was tongue-tied; smitten like a schoolboy having his first love.

He wanted to do something about his feelings for you, but he didn't know where to begin. Yoongi first met you through Taehyung when you were all back in college. He didn't know what to expect when the younger boy asked if he could bring his friend to Yoongi's piano recital later that spring but agreed nonetheless. Apparently, you were fond of classical music.

What was initially only some small talk at the end of the recital became a new acquaintance between the two of you. Sharing your favourite musicians and songs over coffee or the occasional study session after class happened naturally. Yoongi cherished the times you spent together during your studies. It was only natural for him to become disappointed when you drifted apart after graduation.

He thought that his feelings for you would subside from the distance created, but here he was in your presence once again, and it was like nothing had changed in his heart. He gulped down the last of his beer in an attempt to calm his senses.

•

Some playful conversation with your friends and a drink in you later, you found the heat radiating off your face becoming unbearable and decided to excuse yourself for a moment onto your balcony to regain your senses. For a one-bedroom apartment in the city, the balcony wasn't anything special to you. You typically didn't use it at all during the colder months of November to March, instead truly only utilizing it for the early summer sunrises that you had a front-row seat to.

Yoongi figured he must have done a poor job concealing his concern for you when Jungkook asked if he had too much to drink.

Yoongi just shook his head, muttering that he was fine as he watched you close the balcony door behind you.

"You should just tell her, hyung," Jimin had one hand on his full tummy and the other clutching a drink half-full, still sat on the floor. "Otherwise, nothing's going to keep happening between you two."

Yoongi tried to act like he was none-the-wiser of what the blond was talking about, only stopping his act when Jungkook interjected, "The least you could do is check if she's alright out there. Or maybe bring her a coat."

Yoongi wondered since when has Jungkook thought of good ideas? Especially after having a couple of drinks. The kid was more profound than he let on.

The nervous musician stood from the chair he'd been glued to thus far, wiping his clammy hands onto his jean-clad-thighs as he neared the balcony door after collecting your jacket. He told himself it was silly to be so anxious; he was only checking in on you.

Yoongi cleared his throat to prepare his voice from faltering, "Hey, are you feeling alright?"

You turned away from the cityscape to see him stepping outside, eyeing the bit of warm air escaping from inside as it became visible, mixing with the cool night atmosphere. The closed sliding door nicely muffled the overlapping voices and music from inside.

You nodded as Yoongi approached you, "I was getting a little bit stuffy inside. I'm good now, though. Crowds can wear me out after a while, especially in that small of a space."

"I'm the same way. I should've told those two to hold off on inviting so many people," the boy admitted. He briefly stood behind you to help you slip on the outerwear before taking a spot next to you by the railing.

"No, it's okay. I know how Taehyung and Jimin can get carried away when they plan something together. They were just excited and went overboard. Besides," you looked over your shoulder to peer past the door, "it looks like they're enjoying themselves, so it's all worth it."

The boy turned to look where your gaze was directed at, although he first admired the way your lips were tilted upwards as you watched your best friends dancing around in the living room with some of the other guests. Currently, Taehyung was trying to convince Seokjin to join him on the makeshift dance-floor between your furniture.

"This was supposed to be for you, though, (Y/N). It means nothing if you're not comfortable. If you're not enjoying yourself."

You turned your attention back to Yoongi, considering his point and then saying, "I'm comfortable. I feel comfortable out here with you, where it's much quieter other than the street noises below. You make me feel comfortable, Yoongi."

Despite the chilly December temperature, Yoongi's face never felt more warmed.

"You make me feel comfortable too, (Y/N)," he whispered. He saw your expression change as he spoke; you now looked genuinely content than how you were acting inside.

You maintained eye contact with the boy in front of you, taking in every feature on his face; the way his eyes looked in the moonlight, the small roundness of his nose, his cheekbones slightly flushed, his lips.

You'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't find Min Yoongi attractive. From the moment you first saw him, you had been entranced by his performance on the piano; and it grew every minute after. Beginning to learn more about him as a person just made your admiration grow stronger.

"Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but could I kiss you?"

Your eyes widened for a split second as you processed the words leaving Yoongi's mouth, but you found yourself nodding before you could verbalize your thoughts.

Yoongi brought his hand gently to the side of your face, grazing your hair out of the way before he leaned in to connect your lips. His hand was cold from standing outside, but his lips were hot; you relished in the feeling of moving your mouth against his. He tasted slightly of beer but smelled of vanilla and musk.

You finally parted but kept your bodies close. You noticed how your hand made its way to his arm while his other one was delicately resting on your waist.

"Was that okay?" Yoongi timidly asked, not removing his gaze from you, your noses barely brushing.

"That was wonderful, Yoongi. The best birthday present," you smiled up at him and wrapped your arms around his torso.

"I can think of something better," he began, taking in the cute tilt to your head as you questioned his thoughts. "How about I take you out for dinner later this week. Does Saturday night work for you?"

You hummed like you were in deep thought, earning a light chuckle from the boy in your arms. "Tomorrow? I'll agree to dinner on one condition."

"And what might that be?"

You smoothed your thumb against his side, suddenly taking an interest in the collar of his jacket, "Could you kiss me again on Saturday?"

Now Yoongi was the one to pretend to be in profound consideration, finally replying, "I guess you'll have to wait to find out. But the odds seem likely. I like you a lot, (Y/N)."

"Good," you giggled, pulling him closer into your embrace, "I like you too. Otherwise, that whole interaction would have been uncomfortable."

Yoongi squeezed you back and smiled at your words, already wanting to kiss you once more without waiting for Saturday.

••

[fallen-gravity]

awaken the stars, ‘cause they’re all around you

Stanford Pines never really believed in soulmates.

He can't imagine the idea that there's one person out there for him in the multiverse who would stop at nothing to love him for who he is, despite everything he is and everything he's done. He can't imagine that someone out there is meant for him, someone who will stand by his side until the end of time.

Or maybe he'd just been looking at it from the wrong angle.

Notes: 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @stariousfalls!!!!! I can't believe we've been friends for upwards of five years now?? You've been a huge inspiration of mine from my first day in the gravity falls fandom back in late 2014, and now you're one of my closest friends. I've been spending the last week and a half working on this behind your back, because I wanted to surprise you with a gift I thought you'd love!!

7.5k words of fluff was....not my original plan, but fluff brain wanted to go feral for you, I guess.

Huge, huge shoutout to @ariasofelegance  for helping me keep my mouth shut about this, I absolutely would've internally combusted without your help & support

AO3

Ford never saw the appeal of romantic relationships.

One night when he and Stan were kids, they snuck downstairs in the middle of the night after their parents were asleep to dig through Pa’s “Secret stash” of movies he thought he was good at keeping a secret. They’d thought for sure they’d be coming across bootleg cuts of action movies that were still playing in theaters, or documentaries about how all of the politicians in power were secretly aliens. 

What they actually found was much more…sensual. They were both horrified, to say the least, but each time Ford had to turn away to prevent himself from gagging, he’d hear Stan beside him struggling not to laugh. 

For years, Ford was convinced coming across those tapes before he was old enough to fully comprehend what was happening in them is what had turned him off to relationships altogether. It certainly didn’t help that he was never able to experience romantic relationships firsthand, as every time he tried asking someone out in high school he’d just be laughed at or called a freak.

Though college was another story entirely, his feelings towards romantic relationships never seemed to change. He went out with a girl from his dungeons, dungeons, and more dungeons club for a few weeks, a guy from his advanced physics class for almost two months, and even tried going out with Fiddleford for upwards of nine months, but he never felt that deeper connection with any of them, no matter how much he wanted to feel that connection. 

It’d be forty more years before he learned the term aromantic, but when he was still in college he would brush off his parents’ questions about his relationship status by telling them he was too busy working on his thesis, which technically wasn’t all that far from the truth anyway.

Still, the faint sense of yearning never seemed to leave him be. Whenever he found gaps in his schedule, he would spend hours in his university library reading up on the science of relationships and their place in society. Though he no longer remembers most of the papers he read, one scientific study that’s always stuck with him was a dissertation written entirely on the concept of soulmates.

Everyone has a soulmate, the paper claimed. Though it may be decades until you properly meet, your path always leads to the moment that you and your soulmate are finally united. Once finally together, not a single force on earth can tear you apart. Even if you are apart physically, the stars will always align to bring you together. Weirdest of all, the paper mentioned soulmarks, which were described as “the phenomenon that a person’s very soul is marked with a piece that belongs to their soulmate, which may appear as a physical anomaly on a person’s body, such as an oddly-shaped birthmark”. 

Ford had thought for sure that somebody must’ve moved a romance novel into the sociology section of the library as a joke. The only sort of anomaly he had going for him was his polydactyly, and thinking too much about how that could connect him to a single person who was destined to love him gave him a headache. 

Nowadays, though, Ford tries not to give it much thought. He’s perfectly happy right where he is, watching the sunrise from the deck of the Stan O’ War II through the steam visibly rising from his coffee mug. 

He sighs contently. 

“Mornin’” Stan’s voice sounds beside him, gruff with sleep. When Ford turns to look at him, he’s rubbing at his eyes with one hand while he holds a steaming cup of coffee in his other. He’s already donning one of the sweaters Mabel mailed to him, a deep blue with a tropical island and a treasure chest stitched across the chest.

Ford smirks. “You’re up early” 

Stan cocks an eyebrow as he sips from his coffee. “A’course I am. I always get up early when we’re docking to see the kids”

Ford blinks, the teasing smirk on his face melting into a gentle smile. “That’s today?” 

“Haven’t you checked the calendar lately?” Stan tosses a second handmade sweater at Ford. This one’s the same shade of maroon as his journal covers, and pictures an angry cycloptopus squirting ink towards the bottom left corner of the sweater. “The kids are on spring break. They talked to their parents about letting us have ‘em all week” 

Ford is quick to pull the warm sweater over his head. “All week?” 

He can’t help sounding like a broken record, but it’s been months since the last time he saw the kids face to face. Sure, they talk over video at least once a week, but nothing beats seeing their smiling faces and having them nearly tackle him to the ground in a hug in-person. 

“Heh, you miss em too, Sixer?” 

As little as two years ago, Ford would’ve flinched at the nickname. But Bill is gone for good, and Ford knows that Bill is gone for good, and Stan made a promise to do anything in his power to help him reclaim the nickname. He brings his mug close to his face without taking a sip, allowing himself to take in the warmth in his hands and the steam in his face.

“Not as much as you, clearly” Ford smirks, and Stan crosses his arms over his chest.

“You bet I missed them more than you. I’d been taking care of them all summer before you showed up and fell in love with them in half that time”

Ford smirks as he finishes up his coffee and heads into the navigation room to set their course. “By that logic, wouldn’t that mean that I miss them more, since I had less time with them?”

“Hey!” Stan groans as he follows him into the room. “It does not. It means that you don’t know them like I know them, genius. Everyone knows that it’s all about how much time you’ve spent with a person that determines how close you are with them” 

Ford laughs as he enters the coordinates they need to get to the seaport they were meeting the young twins at. From the looks of it, it’d be three hours before they arrived. 

“Mm, and who put that study together? Was it you?” 

Stan doesn’t reply with words, just a noise that sounds halfway between disgruntled and baffled. It makes Ford laugh even harder, and he wipes at his eyes with a wrist. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Stan’s overdramatic pout melt away until he’s laughing too. 

The sight of it makes the smile on Ford’s face widen. It’d been decades since the two of them were able to just be like this. It’d been so long since the last time Ford heard Stan’s genuine laugh that he’d gone and forgotten what it sounded like altogether. When he was still traveling the multiverse, he searched far and wide for a shred of hope, something to keep his anxieties and nightmares from catching up to him.

What a fool he’d been to ignore his childhood memories of home. 

The trip is a quiet but familiar one. Ford can’t talk much when he’s steering because he needs to be on constant lookout, but Stan remains in the room to talk at him and keep him company anyway. The sun is well over the horizon by the time they reach the seaport, and call it instincts, intuition, or something else entirely, because Ford spots the kids sitting on a bench in the near distance the moment he and Stan step foot onto the dock. 

They’re squished closely together, watching a video on Mabel’s phone. Whether they’re aware of it or not, they’re swaying their legs back and forth underneath the bench in perfect unison. On the ground beside them are their backpacks, overstuffed with so many things that both of them are popping open. 

Most importantly, neither of them have noticed that Ford and Stan are approaching them. 

Ford exchanges an amused glance with Stan, and clears his throat to catch their attention. 

The phone nearly stumbles out of their hands in shock when they look up and meet their eyes.

“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel squeals, standing to sprint past Ford to knock Stan off of his feet. Ford chuckles at the sight, but not quickly enough to hear Dipper’s “Great Uncle Ford!”, and before he knows it he’s hitting the floor too. The young twins are laughing messes, and stumble over each other as they try to stand to their feet and help their Grunkles up. 

Mabel spits out the hair that stuck to her mouth, and pulls a hair tie seemingly out of thin air to tie her hair up into a ponytail. It’s only now that Ford realizes that she and Dipper are also both wearing sweaters, and if Ford had to guess, it looks like Mabel made both of these sweaters as well. Mabel’s is a galaxy print with actual twinkling stars, and Ford makes a mental note to ask her later what she did to make it glow like that. Dipper’s is also space themed, though his pictures the big dipper splotched across a black night sky with a bright orange meteor shooting through the center.

“You have to tell us about everything you’ve encountered”, Dipper beams, once Stan finishes brushing himself off. 

Stan cocks an eyebrow. “Two years’ worth is a lot to get through, kiddo”

“Exactly!” Mabel beams, turning to pick up her backpack and put it on. “Which is exactly why you can tell us on the way to the hotel!” 

“Hotel?” Ford and Stan ask in unison.

“Surprise?” Dipper giggles. “Our parents rented us a hotel room for the week cause they figured you’d appreciate some time away from the boat” 

“It’ll be like our summer in Gravity Falls all over again!” Mabel grins. “But in reverse! You’re in our territory now” 

Stan laughs. “You’re the boss, kiddo”

“You bet I am!” She beams, and hands Dipper his backpack. “Now c’mon! If you tell us all of the horrors you’ve encountered out at sea, we’ll tell you about all the horrors we’ve encountered in high school!”

“I...think I remember those horrors pretty well already, thank you” Ford smiles sheepishly, adjusting his glasses. “But we’d be more than glad to tell you some of our own stories”

It’s a short walk to the bus stop, but Ford honestly wouldn’t mind if they walked all the way to the hotel on foot if it meant an extra half an hour with the kids. They’re just as eccentric as he remembers, attached at the hip but still wildly different people all on their own. Dipper’s still hanging on to every word he’s saying, and Mabel’s still skipping along like she’s in her own world. 

Once they reach the hotel and check in, Dipper collapses face first onto one of the beds the moment he steps into the room, groaning. 

Stan smiles. “Something bothering you, kiddo?” 

He turns on his side to look Stan in the eye, his face smushing into the pillow. “Mabel didn’t let me get any sleep last night. She insisted on getting to the seaport three whole hours early because she insisted that she had this gut feeling that you guys would have the same idea and we’d magically show up at the same time” 

Mabel pouts, and sits on the bed besides him. “Well it’s not my fault you stayed up late reading that dumb book of yours. Plus, would you rather have kept them waiting for three hours?” 

Dipper removes his hat and places it on the table beside him, exposing just enough of his forehead through his hair to reveal his birthmark. It has the same faint glow to it as Mabel’s sweater, and Ford wonders how the two could possibly reflect off of each other. 

“Their boat has beds and a fully stocked kitchen, Mabel. They can afford to wait. All we had were those strawberry pop tarts that you ate five minutes after we got there”

Ford can’t help but smile softly at their banter. He missed them so, so, much more than he could’ve ever imagined. He’s got half a mind to stow them away on the boat at the end of the week and homeschool them both himself so he never has to be apart from them again.

Apart. The word still feels like a knife twisted into his chest. There’s nothing he regrets more than trying to separate the young twins from each other two summers ago because he’d been so caught up in projecting his own fears onto the pair. He’d tried apologizing to Mabel over the whole ordeal, but she stopped him before he could even start to tell him he had nothing to worry about.

He only wishes he could learn to forgive himself as easily as she did.

“...Can we, Grunkle Ford?”

He blushes. Had he just said all of that out loud?

“Can we...what?” 

“Take the boat out! Not right now, since Dips is being a grumpy-grump and insists on wasting precious time with a nap, but we’ve been talking about it all week”

From across the room, Stan snorts. “Let me get this straight,” he takes his jacket off and hangs it up in the closet. At this point Ford swears his eyes must be playing tricks on him, because Stan’s old burn scar is glowing just as Mabel’s sweater and Dipper’s birthmark are. “All the time you spent groaning and complaining about fishing every time I took you in Gravity Falls, and now you’re asking to go fishing?” 

“I was thinking more along the lines of a joy ride,” Dipper yawns from under the covers. “But if agreeing to go fishing is what gets you to say yes, then sure” 

He’s smirking under the covers, Ford can tell, because he inherited that expression from Stan.

Stan’s about to bite back, but Dipper must not have been exaggerating about how long he and Mabel were waiting for them at the dock, because he’s already out cold. Stan smiles at him, gently ruffling up his hair before he takes a seat on the adjacent bed, kicking his shoes off so he can kick his feet up on the bed and relax. Ford sits beside Stan, and Stan slings his arms behind him to support his head in his hands as he glances over at Ford. 

“They make you wanna retire the whole ‘treasure hunting’ thing and move into the city to be closer to ‘em too?”

Ford chuckles. “I’ve already considered hiding them away on the boat twice today already.” He taps at his chin. “Though I suppose that moving in with them would go over better with their parents then taking them away to live on a boat” 

“Hmm…” Stan taps at his chin as well. “Being stuck in the same stuffy high school for four years, or living on a boat traveling all over the world whenever they feel like it? I dunno about you, Sixer, but I have a pretty good idea on what the kids would prefer”

“Grunkle Stan? Grunkle Ford?” Mabel’s voice suddenly chimes in, and Ford blushes, wondering how much of that she just heard. 

“What’s on your mind, pumpkin?” Stan asks. 

“Well, uh, Dipper was right about us only eating once really early this morning, and I was wondering if you’d be willing to, uh” She twirls her hair between her fingers. “Cook something for us? For old time’s sake?”

Okay, it’s settled, Ford’s never letting these kids go again. 

“Sure, kiddo. Soon as your brother’s up we’ll head right back up, okay?” 

“Okay!” she beams, and crawls back into her side of the bed, staring at Dipper like she can will him into waking up on command. 

Though Ford would’ve been okay if they’d had to wait hours for him, it’s really only about twenty minutes before Dipper opens his eyes again and nearly shrieks in surprise at Mabel’s face hovering three inches from his own. He smacks his hand into her face to shove her away, and she giggles as she rolls off the bed and onto the floor. 

Beside Ford, Stan smirks. “Better get up before we leave without you and all our food goes to Mabel, kiddo. You’ve got plenty of time to crash in Ford’s bed on the ship, since he never seems to use it anyway”

Dipper yawns, rubbing at his eyes as he kicks the covers off. “I hadn’t even realized I’d fallen asleep”

“I didn’t realize you were even capable of sleep, bro-bro” Mabel punches him in the shoulder as she walks past him to put her shoes on. He glares at her wordlessly, and Ford has to cover up his snicker with a fake cough. 

This time, the bus ride and the walk back to the ship are a quiet one. Ford never really lets himself let his guard down and relax for an extended period of the time, so he cherishes any moment he can get where he finally feels like he doesn’t constantly feel the need to check over his shoulder for signs of danger. Most of the time, if you asked him about his heightened senses, he’d call them a curse. But on days like these, when he can hear the birds chirping and the waves smacking gently against the boats in the seaport, he’d almost go as far as calling it a blessing. 

The kids take a seat at the dining table as soon as they enter the kitchen, and Stan grins at them from over his shoulder as he clicks the stove on. “Whaddya say, Stancakes?” 

Dipper and Mabel grimace in unison. “Ewwww, Grunkle Stan, you promised lunch!” Mabel scrunches her nose, and Stan’s grin only widens. 

“Ah, ah, you said like old times. That means I get to decide what to make, and you have to eat it because I’m your legal guardian”.

“Well I wasn’t even awake when you were talking about old times, so I’d say that cancels out” Dipper crosses his arms over his chest, and Ford can’t help but smile warmly at the three of them as he reaches into the cupboard for his favorite coffee mug. The younger twins clearly had just gotten two copies of the same mug, but crossed both of them out so they’d say #1 GRUNKLES on them instead of #1 UNCLE. Stan has the other one, of course, but he keeps it on his bedside to hold small treasures and keepsakes because it’s, in his own words, “Too special to waste on something as ordinary as coffee”.

Ford sits himself in the seat between the younger twins at their okay, and after some back and forth banter between the four of them, they end up settling for burgers. Truth be told, this is the first time Ford’s eaten a meal in a group larger than two since the last time he and Stan visited the young twins in the winter, and he can’t help but smile into his food at the thought. The closest he’d come even remotely close to eating with others in his research years was his very, very brief time at the truck stop diner, and the experience had soured his view of...well, other people for near decades.

Now, though, he’d burn his own research dozens of times over before he’d even consider eating alone.

Stan’s chair scraping across the floor as he stands pops Ford out of his bubble of serenity. 

“Now that that’s taken care of,” Stan cracks his knuckles, smiling mischievously at Dipper and Mabel. “I think I remember a couple of kiddos finally promising their Grunkle Stan he could take them fishing”

“Promise is a strong word-” Dipper starts as he stands to place his plate in the sink, but Stan’s already placing a fishing hat on his head before he can finish his sentence. 

“Course you did! You wanna take our baby for a joyride, you gotta earn it first”

Dipper turns to Ford, like he’s expecting him to back him up.

Ford chuckles. “I don’t know, Dipper. That sounds perfectly reasonable to me”.

Dipper scoffs, sitting back down at the table. Mabel laughs. 

“Aww, C’mon, Dipper! Aren’t you all about the supernatural? For all we know, Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford could be harboring magical glowing bait that only attracts, like, magical talking fish men, or something!” 

Dipper raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just receive a bottle message from Mermando last week?”

“Exactly!” Mabel flashes a grin. “That must mean that he’s in the area!”

Stan laughs. “You tellin’ me you only agreed to go fishing so you could kiss and make-up with your long-distance fish boyfriend?”

“Grunkle Stan, what kind of person do you take me for?” she gasps. “He’s married! You know I would never want to break apart such a loving couple!”

Ford’s smile only warms. Where else could he partake in such a conversation that doesn’t turn heads and result in judgmental whispers? Where else can he just be like this, surrounded by loved ones who are just as weird, just as out of the ordinary as himself? In his younger years he thought for sure his place would be among the monsters and cryptids everyone in his childhood made him out to be, but even in the weirdness capital of the country he felt more alone than ever. 

“...Don’t think you’re immune, Sixer” Stan’s voice cuts into his thoughts, and before Ford can ask what he means Stan is smacking a homemade fishing cap on his head. “It may ruin your badass image when we’re monster hunting, or whatever, but we’re fishing with the kids.” Stan gestures to them with his thumb. They’re already outside, leaning over the railing to look out at the water in a perfect mirror of each other.  “If they have to embarrass themselves by humoring me for a few hours, so do you” 

Ford waits for Stan to join the kids outside before he takes his hat off to admire the stitch work. It’s not perfect, and nowhere near the fancy embroidery he and Stan have found in various markets across their world travels. But it’s personalized, and Ford knows it comes from a place in Stan’s mind that’s been stuck behind lock and key since he was seventeen.

Ford runs his hands along each individual letter, which reads POINDEXTER, before placing it back on his head to join the others outside. 

Stan has, miraculously, already pulled out his joke book. Stan’s laughing too hard at his own joke for Ford to really make out what the punchline is, but the younger twins’ collective groans is all he needs to know about it. When Mabel notices him stepping out of the doorway, though, her expression shifts entirely. 

“So…” she draws out, stepping towards him. “Is there a trick for attracting merpeople to your boat? I mean, asides from being super cute, obviously” 

Ford chuckles, taking a glance behind her to make sure that Stan is out of earshot. “Stan’ll kill me if I tell you this, but they’re really attracted towards shiny things. If you tied one of his gold necklaces around a fishing pole and dangled it into the water, the boat’ll be surrounded in minutes” 

Mabel offers up her pinkie finger. “I won’t tell him if you won’t”

Ford interlocks his pinkie with hers, smiling. “I think he’ll notice when a whole family of merpeople show up”

“Hmmm…” Mabel taps at her chin with her free hand, visibly mouthing a plan to herself. “Oh! I know! Come with me,” she beams, and before Ford can even open his mouth to respond she’s already dragging him back into the kitchen. She kneels down on the floor and opens the cupboard below the sink. “Got any empty bottles I can use?”

Ford blinks. “Empty....bottles”

“Yeah!” Mabel pulls a neatly folded piece of paper out of her skirt. “If I can send out my response letter the same time we throw Stan’s necklace over, he’ll never be able to tell the difference!”

“Wait, wait” Ford shakes his head. “You really are dating a merperson?”

“Listening skills, Grunkle Ford” she taps at her forehead, folding the letter back into her pocket as she continues to dig through the cupboards. “Used to date. We met at the Gravity Falls Public Pool, where he was stuck, but then I drove him to the lake in a golf cart I stole from the pool grounds because he really missed his family, and then he was my first kiss, and then we were in a long-distance relationship for like, two months, and I kept every single bottle he sent me, but then we had to break up because he was arranged to marry to prevent a big undersea war.” She picks up a bottle, shakes it, and puts it back when it’s too full for her liking. “I know it sounds, like, super complicated, but it’s all okay, because we’re still pen pals!” 

Ford laughs, shaking his head. “No, Mabel, I had to ask because I, uh…” his cheeks warm, and he clears his throat. “Before I...came to term with my orientation, I...dated a merperson too” 

The bottles in the cupboard rattle as Mabel’s head smacks against the doorframe. She’s rubbing the spot where her head hit, but there are stars in her eyes. “Really?” 

Ford’s cheeks burn even hotter. “Yes,” he whispers, and takes a knee so he can get at her eye level. “Technically he was a siren, but yes, we dated for about a month. He promised me he wouldn’t entice anyone else while we were together, but I guess there wasn’t anything...there.” He turns to help her shuffle through the cupboard, and finds a near-empty bottle of olive oil that’s definitely been sitting down there for at least a year. He hands it off to Mabel, smiling. “I’m glad that things worked out with you, though” 

To his surprise, Mabel drops the bottle and throws her arms around him in a hug. “I can’t wait to introduce you! He’s gonna love you”

Ford huffs a quiet laugh, and pulls her close as he winds his arms around her as well. The hug only lasts for a few brief moments, but it feels to Ford in those moments that time itself had stopped. Mabel stands, taking the bottle in one hand and offering to help Ford up in her other. 

Mabel places the bottle in the sink and turns the water on to rinse it out before she turns back towards Ford, stretching her arms up in the air as if she were warming up for an exercise. “Alright, here’s the plan. You tell me where Grunkle Stan keeps all of his jewelry, and I’ll sneak in and take his necklace while you distract him. Got it?”

Ford smiles. “Got it”.

As Mabel splits away for Stan’s bedroom, Ford heads back out to the deck. Dipper’s leaning over the side of the boat pointing at something jumping out of the water, rambling excitedly to Stan beside him. He’s holding his fishing hat in his hand to stop it from blowing into the water, and his hair is bouncing in the breeze. It’s just enough for the edge of his birthmark to poke through his bangs, and even in broad daylight it seems to be emitting a faint glow.

“I found it!” Mabel cheers, bounding up from behind him. She’s wearing the chain around her neck, and for some reason the gold seems much dimmer in contrast to her sweater. She takes it off and hands it to him. “You wanna do the honors while I go and throw this overboard?”

Ford smiles, ruffling her hair. “Sure thing.” He walks over to where Stan and Dipper are chatting and picks up one of the extra fishing rods. Making sure that Stan’s too engrossed with his conversation to notice, Ford starts wrapping the chain along the line, and at the signal from Mabel, he tosses his line as far from the boat as he can manage.

Five minutes pass before Mabel squeals so loud that Ford’s afraid his glasses might shatter. He reaches for the gun he knows he’s got stashed in his pants pocket, but when he turns to run to her aid she’s leaning halfway over the boat wrapping her arms around a young merman in a tight hug.

“...so good to see you again!” She’s beaming. “I didn’t think you’d be able to find us so quickly!”

“Yes, well, you were easy to track down after we figured out the coordinates to the seaport” the young man says in a thick Spanish accent. “It is good to see you too! My family was so excited to meet you”

“Your family?” she gasps. “Did they all come with you?” 

“Of course!” he grins. “We merpeople are very family oriented. Wherever we go, we go together” 

Ford winces at the uncanny familiarity of the statement. Mabel must recognize the statement too, because she responds with “Oh, that reminds me! There’s someone I want you guys to meet! Wait right here,” she says, and comes bouncing back over to Ford. Taking his hand in her own, she starts to drag him back to where she’d just been leaning. “C’mon! He’s the one I was just talking about!”

Three more merpeople emerge from the water when she gently knocks on the side of the boat again. “Grunkle Ford, this is Mermando!” she grins, gesturing to the young merman she’d just been conversing with. “He’s the one I helped reunite with his family after they were separated by tragic circumstances.” She wraps her arms around Ford in a side-hug. “Mermando, this is my Grunkle Ford! He was also separated from his family by tragic circumstances, but I helped with that too!” 

Mermando laughs. “Even when you think it’s the end, family always finds its way, doesn’t it?”

Ford laughs, shaking his hand. “It always seems that way to me”

“Awwww!” Mabel squeals. “I knew you’d get along!” She grins, and turns her attention back towards Mermando. “Before I forget, though, did you see where Grunkle Ford threw that gold necklace? If I don’t get it back my Grunkle Stan’s gonna kill me”

Mermando laughs again. “I was wondering if that belonged to any of you!” He takes off his shell necklace to reveal that he’d put Stan’s necklace on around his neck. He takes that off, too, and offers it to Ford. “I much prefer this one, anyway” he clicks his shell necklace open, revealing it to be a locket with a picture of his family inside.

Ford takes the gold necklace back, and he means to thank him, but a bell ringing from elsewhere in the port interrupts him before he can open his mouth. Mermando turns to Mabel, taking her hands in his own. “We must go. I’m so sorry we have to leave so soon, but we merpeople recognize the sounds of fishing boats very easily. We’ll try to come back later this week” He opens his arms for her once more, and Mabel wraps his arms around him in a quick hug before she watches him and his family swim away. 

“I am so glad that all you were doing was hugging,” Dipper shudders as he and Stan approach Ford and Mabel. “I’m not sure my stomach could handle witnessing you two kissing a second time” 

“Awww,” Mabel punches him playfully in the shoulder. “You’re just jealous that I had a boyfriend before you did!” 

Dipper cringes. “If you having a boyfriend before I do means I didn’t have to be the one dating a fish, then I’m glad you were the one who got stuck with him first” He punches her back, and gestures at Stan over his shoulder with his thumb. “But anyways, I came over here because Grunkle Stan says he wants to get out on the open water before everyone else gets the idea, or something”.

Ford pockets Stan’s necklace and makes a mental note to put it away sometime later tonight when Stan is too distracted to notice. “Tell Stan I’m going to untie the rope from the edge of the dock, and when he sees me back on board we’re all set to go.”

Nodding, Dipper bounds off towards the navigation room where Stan must be waiting, and Ford steps off of the boat to take care of everything else. On the way to the bow, he traces a hand along the white painted STAN O’ WAR II, and a feeling of warmth sprouts in his chest. Once back on board, he waves to Stan as he passes besides the navigation room once more, and takes a seat on one of the beach chairs they liked to keep aboard. 

Most days, Ford prefers to be the one at the wheel. But every once in a while he just wants to be. All he wants to do is lean back in one of their beach chairs and let the sun warm his face. It’s a good kind of warm, the same way spending time with the kids and heavy rain hitting his bedroom window and planning new escapades with Stan feel warm. After so, so long of only knowing unbearable burns, it feels indescribable to have a constant back in his life that heals, rather than hurts. 

“Mind if we join you?” Dipper asks, and Ford glances over to see both of the young twins dragging a chair behind them.

Speaking of healing constants.

“Sure,” Ford says, and can’t help the warmth spilling through his tone. They pull their chairs up on either side of him, and curl up to enjoy the warm breeze. Dipper places his hat on his lap to let the wind blow through his hair, and Mabel stretches her arms out behind her head to act as her own pillow. Ford chuckles silently at the pair, and closes his eyes to let himself relax.

All is quiet when Stan finally finds them a spot out on the open water without a single other boat in sight. The water is nearly still, save for the occasional small wave that gently sways the boat. The sun is at its afternoon high, turning the water beautiful shades of teal and aqua. Fishing is tedious, but it’s careful work, and gives Ford something to put all of his focus into. Two whole hours pass before any of them catch a thing, and Stan laughs himself to tears when it’s Dipper who pulls up a single sardine. 

Typically Ford prefers much more immersive activities, but right now there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. The sun is starting to set before they realize they aren’t going to have much luck catching anything, and instead decide to take the boat for another ride around the harbor to look for a better place to eventually watch the stars. 

“...Great Uncle Ford?” Dipper approaches him shyly once they’ve anchored the boat.

“Yes?”

He tugs shyly at the edge of his sweater. “I…” he starts. “I know you’ve told me that the multiverse was dangerous, and all, but...was there ever anything you enjoyed about it?” He pauses. “What were the sunsets like?”

Ford chuckles, patting at the seat beside him, and Dipper’s eyes light up as he sits down.

“You’re right,” Ford starts, folding his hands together. “I wouldn’t wish what I went through on even my worst enemies, Dipper. It was practically impossible to get any decent amount of sleep and even harder to find food digestible by human kind. I lost some of my best years to the multiverse when I could’ve gone on to become the most renowned scientist in the world.” Ford turns his gaze away from the sun setting on the horizon to meet Dipper’s eyes, but he’s frowning, eyes cast downwards towards the deck of the ship.

“But,” Ford adds before the poor kid can get too lost in his own head, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It definitely had its perks.” He smiles. “The sun in Dimension 18.2 would emit a sound that mimicked a lullaby every night as it set. Dimension 47’23 had three moons that would shift phases before your very eyes. I haven’t told Mabel because I’m afraid she’ll try activating a portal of her own and run away, but in Dimension 25-12, everyone and everything looks like a watercolor painting. There’s danger in the multiverse, but there’s beauty in equal measure”

“Do you ever miss it?” Dipper fiddles with his hands, like he’s trying real hard not to say the wrong thing. “I mean, I know you don’t miss being lost, or having no idea if you’re ever going to see home again, but...is there any dimension...where you could’ve seen yourself staying, if you thought you couldn’t make it back?” 

Ford shifts in his chair so he doesn’t have to twist his neck so much to look directly at his nephew. “Occasionally,” he muses. “I met the most friendly faces in Dimension 52, so my mind does tend to wander there from time to time” he smiles. “But rest assured, there is something in this dimension that makes it my favorite”

“Oh yeah?” Dipper’s eyes light up. “Over every other dimension you’ve passed through? What is it?”

Ford gently nudges Dipper’s shoulder. “You and your sister”

Dipper’s cheeks turn bright red, and he looks as though he’s struggling not to bury his face into the collar of his sweater and disappear. “Really?” his voice squeaks.

Ford nods. “Everything I had in those other dimensions were fleeting, Dipper. At a moment’s notice everything I grew to love could disappear in the blink of an eye. The very thing happened to me in Dimension 52. When I fell asleep, I woke up in a new dimension I didn’t recognize. Things may have been more advanced, and there may have been dimensions crafted to give you your greatest desires, but in the end nothing ever lasted.” 

Now it’s Ford’s turn to divert Dipper’s eyes, gaze casting towards the floor. “Stan was cut from my life completely in the dimension that claimed to be a perfect world. I had nobody. Even in dimensions that actively worked towards my happiness, I was all alone” Ford shakes his head, and turns his gaze once more out on the horizon. The sun is still touching the horizon, but it’s dipped just low enough that some of the stars are beginning to show in the sky. 

“But...here, at home, everything is consistent. I don’t have to worry about waking up in the morning to find that everyone I love is gone. I can keep everyone in arm’s lengths, even when Stan and I can only communicate with you and your sister over a video call. I’m…” Ford gently squeezes his hands to reassure himself that this is real and now. “...happy. Happier than I’ve been in decades” 

Beside him, Dipper yawns, and when Ford spares a glance over at him he’s smiling at him sleepily.  “We’re really happy you’re here too, Grunkle Ford” he murmurs, and his eyes slip closed. Ford’s cheeks flush pink, and he has to choke back a laugh because that’s one of the first times Dipper’s felt comfortable enough to call him Grunkle. 

Ford stands, so as not to wake Dipper from his nap. A small glance to his right and he catches a glimpse of Stan and Mabel leaning against the side of the boat watching the sunset just outside of earshot of his current conversation with Dipper.

“You finally bore him to sleep with all your nerdy science talk?” Stan asks as he approaches, sparing a glance behind him at Dipper. “Was starting to think that the poor kid would never get a nap in” 

“Yes, well,” Ford smirks. “I’m sure it helped plenty that you bored him to death by taking him fishing first”

Stan gasps in mock offense, and slugs him in the shoulder. “Hey, at least I’m engaging them in something they can actually interact with, unlike your kooky alien stories, or whatever”

Ford can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “Bold statement coming from the man who dedicated thirty years of his life rescuing me from said kooky aliens” he says, returning with a punch of his own. Stan opens his mouth to argue back, realizes he has nothing to say, and closes his mouth. The sight of it makes Ford laugh even harder, keeling over and slapping a hand on Stan’s shoulder to support himself. It must be contagious, because it’s not long before Stan is laughing too.

Ford removes his glasses to wipe the tears from his eyes, and cleans off the lenses with the edge of his sweater. Once his eyes adjust after he puts them back on, his throat nearly catches in his throat when he glances back out towards the water. He’s just able to catch a shooting star before it disappears over the horizon, and the boat’s just far out enough on the water that there isn’t an ounce of light pollution obscuring the rest of the stars in the sky.  He takes a few steps back so he can look up and admire more of them at once, and if he looks close enough he can see them twinkling. 

Before he can ask the others if they’re seeing the same thing, a bright flash of light coming from somewhere on the boat cuts into his thoughts. He turns, to make sure that none of the lights in any of the rooms are on, but no, they’d turned those off when they’d started fishing. Scratching at his head, he turns to Stan and Mabel to ask if they have any idea where the light is coming from, but that question catches in its throat as quickly as it formulated.

They’re the ones emitting light.

Or, rather, Mabel’s sweater and Stan’s shoulder, approximately where his burn scar should be. Those are emitting light. 

...Surely it must just be the reflection of the starlight on the water, right? That same bright light must have woken Dipper from his nap, yes? 

He turns heel to ask Dipper the same question, but freezes in his tracks before he can take a single step forward. Dipper’s forehead is glowing too, the same way it has since he and Stan docked the boat this morning. 

It...It can’t be, can it?

Gripping his forehead, Ford takes a number of steps backwards until his back hits the wall. Maybe...maybe he just needs to call it a night. He’s been awake since sunrise, maybe his vision is just blurring because he needs to lie down? 

He waves his hands in front of his face, but no, those don’t look any different. He squints, to make sure his hands aren’t shaking, but no, they’re perfectly still.

He squints at Stan and Mabel, just to try and see if his eyes are watering, and-

He gasps. 

Mabel’s sweater, Dipper’s forehead, Stan’s shoulder; they’re not glowing; they’re twinkling like the stars. It was hard to tell in broad daylight, but now that they’re surrounded by a thousand shining stars, the resemblance is unmistakable. 

But...that’s not possible. If he can see them twinkling, but none of them have said anything about it, that could only be if those were…

...soulmarks. 

Ford suddenly feels like he’s going to pass out. 

He slides to the floor.

Is...Is that even possible? Ford thought for sure that study he read years ago was nothing but a joke. Someone...who does everything in their power to bring you two together, no matter the cost? Someone who, even though you may not meet for decades, will feel as though you’ve known each other their entire lives? Someone who will do anything for you, no matter the personal expense?

Someone...someone like Stan, who spent a painstaking thirty years teaching himself quantum physics to rescue someone that anyone else would assume dead? The man who sacrificed his very mind, his very life, so he could be spared physical torture?

Or...someone like Mabel, the first friendly face he saw after emerging from the portal? The one who forgave him so easily after he tried to separate her from her brother? The one who insists on calling him a good person, despite all of those he knows he hurt? 

Or...Dipper? His kindred spirit in all things supernatural? The one who, alongside his sister, sacrificed himself as bait for the most dangerous being in the entire multiverse? Who saw memories of him at his very worst, and apologized to him for snooping?

After everything he’s been through...could things really work out that well in his favor? To not have one soulmate but three, and the guarantee that they’ll never leave, because they’ve already expressed how they love him so? 

There’s a tear streaming down his cheek at the thought, but he’s too distracted by a fourth light suddenly emitting from...himself to really notice.

He spares a cautious glance downward, and notices a pulsing light emerging from his chest in perfect time with his heartbeat. If he looks closely, he notices that the light travels down his arms and ties itself into a translucent bow around his fingers. If he looks closer still, the light looks as though it’s slinking faintly across the deck of the boat and reaching towards the gentle twinkling of Stan and Mabel’s marks.

Ford places a hand to his forehead, throws his head back, and laughs his throat dry, paying no mind to the tears pouring down his face.

[sxfterhearts]

35. [4:28 pm]

➳ pairing: youngjae x reader

➳ genre/warnings: fluff, royal!au, prince!youngjae, lady!reader

➳ word count: 1,496 words

➳ summary: 35. “After you.”

➳ author's note: hello angels! i’m so so sorry for my recent absence, uni has been really busy. here is a youngjae fluff to make up for it! this is my first time writing this au so i’m excited to share this! it was a lot of fun and i got really inspired by nbtm + the wildflowers i saw on my trip :)) have a nice day and week lovelies <333

//

“After you,” Youngjae said breezily, a royal blue, satin covered arm coming up to brush a stray branch aside, clearing the path ahead for you.

“No,” You shook your head with a faux frown, refusing. “After you, Your Royal Highness.” Insistently, you rooted your leather high boots firmly onto the ground, not moving an inch.

“C'mon, Y/N!” He sighed exasperatedly, dramatically. Youngjae always harboured a burning hatred for formalities. “I know you liked our old spot at the top of the hill, but I swear you’ll love this place even better. I just want to show you a part of this kingdom that you’ve never seen before!” A glint of excitement flashed across your eyes at the mention of exploring another corner of his family’s vast lands. Sensing that you were about to cave to his request, the Prince hastily interlocked your fingers with his, guiding you through the dense forest just beyond the edge of the Royal Gardens. “Besides, as your host, I ought to bring you someplace that didn’t make you sneeze your brains out every other minute. The canola fields have triggered your allergies ever since you were a child.” Youngjae added.

“But I like the canola!”

Youngjae scrunched up his nose in distaste. “Well, I certainly don’t like explaining to your maids why their precious Lady turned into a swollen, slimy tomato by the end of our evening together and–”

“Okay, fine!” You squeezed his hand to signal your defeat. He couldn’t see your resigned, dejected look, the one that you wore every time he won an argument, but if he did, you’d bet on every single horse in your stables that he would clutch his stomach and double over in boisterous laughter. “You’ve said enough. Point taken.”

Satisfied, the Prince continued to lead you further into the forest. His pleasing, melodic whistles (charming renditions of folk songs, you supposed) were in harmony with the tunes of the lively forest. Your ears could easily pick up on the airy whispers of rustling leaves, the sweet sopranos of chirping birds and the trickling stream singing in an allegro tempo. It was shaping up to be quite an orchestra, with the one and only Youngjae taking centre stage as both lead singer and conductor.  

Throughout the far-reaching kingdom ruled by the Choi dynasty, Youngjae was known as the precious youngest son of the reigning monarchs. The boy made quite a name of himself by gracing those around him with his sunshine smile and bright personality. There were even poems and songs written about the Prince’s ability to shine his brilliant light onto his people’s lives. Many claimed that the Prince had a heart of pure gold, as he would often roam beyond the gates of the Palace, interacting with the locals by personally buying his art supplies from the markets, painting murals and paintings for the young and old, and lending a hand whenever a carriage got stuck in mud or when an old grandpa strained himself while moving large crates of vegetables. The people often muttered under their breaths about how it was such a shame that Youngjae had little chance of claiming the throne, for he was the last in line after his elder siblings. But the Youngjae you knew and grew up with had never set his sights on being King. Ever since spending that first summer in the Palace with his eleven-year-old self, you were certain that he was meant for even greater things. Youngjae loathed politics and diplomacies. He hated pretending like someone he wasn’t, just for the sake of strengthening relations and maintaining peace. All Youngjae wanted to do was to live a carefree life and practice his art.  

“We’re nearly there, My Lady,” Youngjae chirped in his best impression of a maid. “Just have to cross this tiny little stream.” The young royal came to a halt before the gushing stream, his free arm circling around your waist securely.

Your mouth went dry in an instant. The body of water a few steps ahead of you seemed like anything but a tiny little stream; it was fervently licking at the banks, swallowing and chomping up any leaf or branch or insect that stood in its way. You were deafened by the relentless roars of rapidly flowing water, causing you to shrink into his side in search of safety. Petrified, you glanced upwards at the Prince, shaking your head slowly to get your point across. You did not like this, not at all.

“I know you’re scared, Y/N, but I won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me. I’ll hold onto you so tightly that we’ll be stuck together like two peas in a pod.”

“But I… I don’t…”

“You’ll never get hurt, not on my watch.” Youngjae declared resolutely. He knew; he could tell from your shallower breaths and widening pupils that you were afraid of falling in, just like you did five summers ago. You and your brother loved spending time within the Palace’s walls, but you had taken a special liking towards the koi pond right at the heart of the Royal Gardens. Each summer when you returned to the Palace from your home in the Northern Lands, the trees and the flowers and the design of the Gardens would change beyond recognition. The pond was the only thing that remained untouched, year after year.

You used to love sitting by the edges and feeding the koi fishes or testing out your paper boats with Youngjae and your brother. You could stay there for ages, from sunrise until sundown. That is, until you accidentally tripped into the pond and nearly drowned. After that, you avoided it like the plague.

“If you’re really not comfortable with this, we can turn around, no big deal.” Youngjae reminded you in the gentlest voice he could muster. The stream was barely a meter wide, with a large sturdy rock smack bang in its centre, but he knew; he could feel the hesitation radiating off your skin. He was aware of how the minutes seemed to drag into hours as you gasped for air that afternoon, your feet straining and struggling to reach the bottom. Youngjae knew that the memory still haunted you.

Your clammy hands clawed onto his back, your fingernails leaving deep imprints through his luxurious tunic. Sensing his eagerness to show you this new hideout of his, you tried your best to swallow your fears and gave him a slight nod.

“You sure? We really don’t have to.”

“I swear, Choi Youngjae,” You whispered impatiently. “If you don’t move right now, I’m going to change my mind.”

He chuckled at that, all melodious and warm. His laughter felt like a blast of sunshine on a cool spring day, which did wonders to ease your nerves. He wasted no time in holding you close to his chest, similar to how you would position yourselves when dancing side by side in the Palace’s ballroom. “It’s a lot like dancing, really.” Youngjae said, inching towards the very edge of the stream. “You just have to coordinate your steps with mine. We’ve done this before a million times. Now, right foot, oh yes, your right. Okay, ready? Take a big step and –”

Your feet moved in perfect unison. The two of you arrived on the rock in the blink of an eye. “We made it.” You breathed out in disbelief.

Youngjae simply cradled you snugly in his arms for several moments. You relished in the immeasurable amount of security you felt being with him, while he grinned smugly at the sight of you finally overcoming your fear. “I told you so,” He pressed his lips against your ear and whispered.

The rest of the journey only took another five minutes. Before you knew it, you arrived at a small yet breathtaking clearing in the forest. The ground was decorated with a plethora of wildflowers emerging amongst tall grass, specks of white and gold and pink everlastings flooding your entire vision. In the middle of the clearing sat a large rock and a fallen trunk, the ideal place to sit down, catch your breath and take in the wondrous scenery.

Which was exactly what you and Youngjae did for the rest of the late afternoon. You drank from your flask of elderflower cider while inhaling the fragrant, floral perfumes surrounding you; Youngjae chewed on the end of his sketching pencil while also crafting a rough sketch of you in his notebook, resting on the trunk. You laughed and you talked, all while sharing a loaf of buttered rosemary bread you swiped from the kitchens this morning.

Much to your pleasant surprise, you didn’t let out a single sneeze. Not even when Youngjae passed you his sketch for your inspection and placed a white flower behind your ear. This was exactly why he brought you here, he claimed.

He was right. As it turned out, you loved this place the most.

[your-rose-highness]

Tell me what is Love (ch- 10)

Pairing- Baekhyun x OC

Special Appearance- JB of GOT7

“So I was thinking, I could take you on a date soon?”, Jaebeom shyly confessed as the two took a walk by the Han river. 

After the quick celebratory hug with jane, Jaebeom, and hye hee sneaked out of the apartment post-dinner. Hye hee felt young after so long. Being in that moment with him as he tried to cure the awkwardness voicing his random thoughts, seemed like a spring day. As they drove away to the Han river, she rolled down the windows and felt the crisp breeze embrace her face. Jaebeom stole glances at her. Something about her seemed so calming to him, yet she looked so drained all the time. He was sure it was more of an emotional turmoil than physical and thus the smiles rarely reached her eyes. At the present moment, she looked like a child. It made him feel warm. 

“Yes, maybe tomorrow?”, she hinted.

“Surely! I’m more than glad you agreed. Any place you would prefer?”

She turned to him with playful eyes before saying, “surprise me.”

Jaebeom pressed his lips together taken aback by her sudden boldness. Not that he was complaining. This was a new her that he was seeing and it was beautiful.

The riverside was quiet, with barely anyone walking past them. It was one of those times when you feel so comfortable with another as you bare your soul out for them. Lying on the grass, they told stories of their childhood, both listening to each other attentively. They laughed at the hilarious anecdotes while spotting funny shapes within the stars. Hye hee forced her brain to stop wandering to Baekhyun. This was a moment she had craved for years and why was she feeling guilty? As she tried to peel away from his thoughts, she felt Jaebeom’s hand brush against hers softly. They turned to each other in surprise, both inching away. Jaebeom’s ears turned red in embarrassment and for hye hee it was an instinct she had developed over the years. 

Just grab his fucking hand reasoned her brain yet something stopped her. She forced herself to place her hand beside his. Picking up courage, her fingers reached him subtly and the two shyly looked at each other once again. This time, Jaebeom fingers curled into hers. She couldn't explain the rush she felt. The warmth of his palm traveled through her body making her shiver.

“Are you cold?”, Jaebeom worriedly asked.

His voice full of concern made her smile, it was so akin to someone she knew, without realizing her heart was still in the old place, striving to find similarities, though unconsciously. 

“A little bit.”, she replied in a small voice and Jaebeom immediately proceeded to take off his denim jacket. 

He fretted around her, trying to help her put on the jacket without actually having to hold her. The two walked around once again, this time hands clasped tight. Sipping on their hot coffees, they watched the sunrise and the golden gleam strengthened their hopes. Hye hee watched him soak in the sun. it was almost as if his skin reflected off the golden rays making them his own. He was beautiful. Laying her head on his shoulder, she looked out towards the wonderful spectacle that unfolded before them. 

“I’m sorry I kept you up all night.”, Jaebeom said as he played with hye hee’s fingers.

“Well. it was long due anyway. Let us skip work too!”, she responded filled with sudden excitement.

Jaebeom smiled widely in shock at her. “What? Hahaha. Do I need to submit the files you know? What do you want to do though? Maybe we can get out early to grab lunch and have fun later. What do you say?”

“I’d love that.”, she whispered, snuggling closer to him.

Jaebeom dropped hye hee soon later, hardly being able to part ways. She found the house cold as she stepped in. jane had left behind a note on the refrigerator.

‘Wanted to wait for all the details, but realized I have a test. You're booked for the evening. 

PS- I WANT TO HEAR EVERYTHING!’

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

“ARE YOU SERIOUS, BYUN BAEKHYUN?”, Lee Sooman roared at him as he stood in front of him, head hanging in shame. “The company suffered an immense loss of investors when this scandal unfolded and though the people have been most gracious and welcoming about you two, now, this!”

“I’m very sorry, sir.” Baekhyun gulped. He had decided to take this bullet by himself, leaving Taeyeon out. The backlash would be brutal on her and he didn't think she was to blame.

“What about Taeyeon?”, he asked, settling down on his chair, his eyes never leaving Baekhyun.

“We both want the same thing, sir.”

Mr. lee shook his head in disbelief at every word, pondering over how he can handle this incoming tsunami. Baekhyun peeked to look at him and continued, “Sarang will mostly be out of this. We will shield her from the public eye….”

“Sit.”, he suddenly whispered. Baekhyun cautiously trod over to the seat opposite to him.

“I’m sorry, but this isn't something that could be overlooked so easily. There are investors, partners that run this damn company. Marriage was one thing, but now divorce? It won't be simple. There might be a potential danger to both your careers and you better take care of that child.”

“I’m ready to take responsibility.”

Mr. Lee simply gave him a stare the whole time, before sighing deeply.

Baekhyun was walked through all the formalities before leaving the company that day. His freedom was going to cost him this time. As he drove home, his mind wandered over to hye hee. He hadn't heard from her for a while but refrained from involving her in the mess that was in front of him. He will be the center of attraction once again and peered from every crack like an animal. As he drove to his parents to break the news to them, he stopped a while at the tiny park of his old neighborhood. The place he had first kissed Hyehee and ironically also where he lost her. Sitting in his car by the empty park, he replayed the simpler times as his eyes closed for a minute.

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

hye hee was furious. Her senior had called off her work for being half-assed in front of the whole office and Jaebeom had seen it all. She didn't like how pitifully he had looked at her. Rushing to the coffee room to fix herself and calm down, she found him enter minutes later, closing the door softly behind himself.

“Hey.”

“I’m fine.”

Jaebeom approached her slowly, holding her hand as she stood waiting for the coffee. Their eyes met briefly before she complained, “she never told me what kind of content she was looking for, you know. And now she just yells at me. It wasn’t my fault. Why today of all days? I’m so embarrassed.”

Despite her whining, Jaebeom was smiling ear to ear.

“What’s so funny?”, she shot at him, pissed.

He laughed at her annoyed pouty face and ruffled her hair, “ because you look adorable right now.”

“Waah. are you flirting with me right now?”

Raising her hand to his lips, he softly murmured against her palm, “if I haven’t even begun.”, proceeding to kiss it.

Hyehee’s legs swayed as his voice intoxicated her, forcing Jaebeom to hold her closer. The air thickened between them, their lips only inches apart. She scurried back on her feet, freeing herself from his embrace. Jaebeom's ears turned red and stuttered to find words. 

"Yah, why were you…"

She retorted without letting him finish, "I wasn't falling, okay? There were people outside." Jaebeom turned around to see if anyone could see them, and the realisation hit her- the door is opaque. Mentally cursing her lack of ability to make believable excuses, she met his playful eyes this time. His lips pressed into a suppressed smile he mouthed 'dumbo' at her. Hye hee slapped his arm in desperation and left the room. 

"Take the coffee, Hye hee!", He teased.

"I want tea."

He laughed loudly at her tiny voice. 

The rest of the day, the two kept at it. Jaebeom's change of demeanor came as a surprise. He usually was very reposed and a man of very few words. He was opening up to her and didn't wish to hold himself back.  Hyehee cheeks never went pale for the day. Even at his glance, she’d blush to the point where her co-worker asked if something was wrong. Nobody had yet guessed that they were dating each other. 

“Cold noodles and fried chicken, please.”, hye hee placed her order at the restaurant during lunch, beaming at the waiter.

“Are you sure you can eat it all? The portion sizes in here are a little bigger than usual.”, Jaebeom wondered.

“Oh don't worry, I can eat a lot for lunch, but dinner, that’s the tricky one for me.”

Halfway through lunch, Jaebeom’s phone beeped, and whatever it was, it made his eyebrows scrunch.

“What?”, Hyehee asked with cheeks full of noodles.

He snorted at her and pushed his cellphone towards her.

“He wants the new parts done. I’ll have to stop by my place to get the rest of the clips. I was going to get the hard drive tomorrow, but looks like this particular project has the boss on edge for some reason.”

“Okay, I’ll finish fast and we can go.”

“Yah. eat slowly.”, he scolded, “you’re gonna get indigestion. Also, could you chew through the whole thing? There’s no hurry. I’ll quickly drop you at the office and drive back.”

hye hee wanted to answer, but she chewed her last mouthful carefully before drinking the soup, “Why do you have to drop me? I can come with you. There’s no reason for you to make such long trips for one file.” 

Scrunching his face, puzzled, he stammered “Yo-you’re okay with coming over to my place?”

Hyehee nodded quickly, confused why Jaebeom would ask that. He always comes over to her place, it’s only fair.

“Okay”, his face went blank in surprise.

Throughout the drive, he didn't say a word and had avoided looking at hye hee.

What is he so worried about? Did he have his underwear sprawled throughout the apartment and was now thinking of how to clean up? Or, was he a dirty guy? Maybe his place stinks? What do men have to worry about so much?- were the thoughts running through her head.

She had only been to one man’s apartment all these years and it was Baekhyun. Of course, she didn't know if he kept his pass traits, but that guy was always a mess. When the two took apartments next to each other after they came to Seoul, she would organize his things whenever she came over. After complaining about how dirty his apartment was, he proposed to only meet up at her place. He did bother to clean up if she was coming over and it was cute. He’d whine about how hard vacuuming was and would curse scientists to not have made another invention to block dust entirely. 

The memory made her smile. Strolling through her memory lane, she had forgotten where and with whom she was. 

Jaebeom on the other hand had other things in mind.

The apartment was what modern decor would call, minimalist. There were a few plants by the window and only that added some color. Apart from that, he had a wall full of polaroids, mostly of random objects, animals, his friends, and family. Hyehhe carefully scanned them to find an old picture of Jaebeom, in his school uniform, and a cat. His facial features hadn't changed and the smile had remained. Jaebeom cleaned on his way to his study, diving into the cave of hard drives, finding the one he wanted only minutes later. On seeing her walking over to the window, he stood still, observing her. She booped her nose to the monstera plant that his friends had gifted him, touching it softly with her fingers. A feeling of delight washed over him seeing her there. He wanted to hold her close to him and take care of her. 

hye hee then turned to look at him, beaming. 

“This dingy apartment looks nicer with you in it.”, he exclaimed.

“Well I am quite a ray of sunshine.”, she cheekily responded.

Moving to close distance, she wrapped her hands around him, laying her head on his chest. Jaebeom pulled her close to himself, kissing her forehead, “I’m afraid I’m falling in love with you.”

Laced in each other’s embrace, she looked at him with the most alluring way, “sweep me off my feet.”

Jaebeom slowly approached her lips, brushing it against his, looking for signs of approval. As he hesitated, hye hee stands on her toes to kiss him this time, making Jaebeom hold her closer to him. Stopping suddenly, Jaebeom pulled away from the breathless hye hee.

“Are you sure, you want to do this, I mean…”

“Oh, shut up.”, hye hee cried out, cutting him midway as she kissed him again.

She could feel Jaebeom’s lips curve into a smile against hers. The hard drive lay forgotten as the time stood still for them in each other’s embrace.

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

“You brought a lawyer?”, Baekhyun whispered through his teeth.

“Well, you should too.”

“Why do we need a lawyer?”, he said, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Well, the assets, parenting rights…”, she made him count.

“What do you mean parenting rights? Sarang is my daughter too.”, he snarled.

“Just come out. We can't make Mr. Mae waiting. It’s rude.”, she said, slamming the door behind her.

Baekhyun closed his eyes in defeat and followed her, leaving a huge sigh. Mr.Mae was a well-known lawyer and had already seated himself on the table, and had laid a bunch of papers in front of him.

“Ah, yes. Please. Lets’s begin, I have another appointment with a client in the next 3 hours.”, Mr. Mae chided at Baekhyun.

“Then you can go ahead. We won't be needing you.”

“Baekhyun!”, Taeyeon whispered under her breath, while Mr. Mae only laughed soullessly.

Baekhyun sat with a sour expression the entire time as Mr. Mae listed everything that needed to be done. Celebrities couldn't just get a divorce as they wish and entailed a bunch of ways to be free from the public eye.

“....but Mr. Byun will be allowed to visit…”, he continued.

“Excuse me, allowed?”, Baekhyun roared, making Mr. Mae look up from his papers through the top of his glasses.

“Yes, Taeyeon asked for almost full parenting rights.”, he confessed.

“I just don't think you’ll be able to take care of our daughter with everything going on and also with you leaving home unannounced to meet girls.”, she retorted, her face devoid of expression.

“I’m sorry, Mr.Mae, but Taeyeon and I need to talk about this bit of the agreement before proceeding. I have never been irresponsible towards Sarang. You’re making this personal and I won't have it.”, he thundered before storming out of the house. As the cold breeze slapped his face, his face stung with warm tears that escaped. Letting out an ear wrenching scream of despair, he broke down in unstoppable tears, praying that the hurt would stop.

[desiraypark]

Earth Angel

Continuation of SATURDAY NIGHT SPECIAL Characters: Flip Zimmerman x Mae (OC - Blk/F) Content: Fluffy/romantic; then a nasty lil’ quickie (PIV sex; FeedFlipSomeTiddies1975) Inspiration: Me telling some friends that this photoshoot (particularly the shirtless with hand in pocket photo) gave me “fuck you in the back of a Volkswagen on the way to Woodstock” energy lol

January 2, 1975 Dear Mae, I hope you had a good New Year’s Eve. And day. Also hope these letters haven’t been too much. I just think about you a lot I just enjoy talking to you. But anyway, I was thinking about my New Year’s resolutions. I’ve never really been big on them but thought 1975 would be the year I give one or two a try. Before I knew it, I got the crazy idea to go on a road trip. From Colorado Springs to Miami, perhaps? Shouldn’t take more than a few days--depending on how often we stop. Before I start stalling and using up this entire sheet to talk about bullshit, I’m going to come right on out and ask if you’d like to join me. I know it sounds crazy. But it would be nice to have some companionship and I can’t think of anyone else I’d like to see the country with. Let me know. Call me a fucking fool if needed.  Best Regards, Flip _____________________ January 16, 1975

Flip Honey, 

I’m definitely going to call you a fucking fool. You ARE a fucking fool. But God looks out for babies and fools, or however that phrase goes. I thought long and hard when I got your letter and you’ve got your answer: yes. I’d love to go on a road trip with you. Because I’m a fool, too. Spend a little change and call me when you get this, honey. You know the number. Better Regards, Mae

FEBRUARY 1975 Flip flew Mae out to Colorado Springs--her first plane ride. He’d temporarily exchanged his truck for a friend’s Volkswagen Transporter and filled it with supplies, dry foods, and toiletries. 

He was like an excited kid at the airport, waiting for Mae to walk through--and boy, did she! She wore a heavy red coat with some kind of fur at the collar and had her hair pinned up like a Park Avenue socialite. She had on a navy skirt or a dress, and some black high-heeled boots. “Look at you!” she said, meeting him halfway.  “Look at you,” he responded, wrapping his arms around her. “Looking great, as always.” It was about 4:30 when she and Flip arrived to his house. They’d picked up a pizza, sat in front of the television with it, and talked until they fell asleep. Eventually, they moved to the bedroom.  “No funny business, now,” Mae had said. Flip laughed. “You’d be too tired to keep up.” But they didn’t try a thing. Even with Mae’s perfect ass against him, and Flip’s strong arm holding her close, they didn’t try a thing. They slept through the night and hit the road for St. Louis (and whatever was in between) at 6:00AM on the dot. They got to St. Louis at about seven in the evening and stopped at a diner. 

“Thank you for saying yes to this, Mae,” Flip said before biting into a crispy chicken sandwich. She nodded.  “Thank you for askin’, Flip.” The lamp above them was dusty, but it made Mae look like an angel. Flip looked over her face. Every inch of it. And Mae felt him staring. The blood rushed to her cheeks and she looked down at her seasoned fries. “Why are you acting shy?” he asked. Mae shrugged. “Because you’re lookin’ at me all...I don’t know...”  Flip’s chest bounced, but no sound came out. Only a grin formed on his face--he was slightly amused by the sight. A woman who’d bounced up and down on him every night in Miami, suddenly blushing and averting her eyes over dinner. But he knew what had her blushing. They both knew that the air was different between them. And it wasn’t just because of the St. Louis cookin’. 

They finished off their food, got some gas, and found a motel to stay in. Even though they both know good and well they wanted to fuck each other’s brains out, the ride had worn them down a little. Especially Flip. Once again, they climbed in bed (well, on top of the bed, because Mae didn’t trust the sheets), and drifted off. ____________________ The Next Morning Flip and Mae hit the road just before sunrise. The road was empty and as much as Mae wanted to see the beautiful morning sky, she fell back asleep. Eventually, Flip turned the car radio on and hummed the songs to himself. Soon, the disk jockey decided to take him back about twenty years--when he was a tall, lanky kid who had nothing to get into but trouble. “Eaaarth angel, earth angel...will you be miiiine...my darling dear, love you all the ti-ime...” Flip perked up, turned the volume up and sang quietly to himself. He even tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel. “I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you...” he sang along. He glanced in Mae’s direction. She was slumped in the seat, the top of her head facing him. One of the buttons of her flannel shirt had popped open because her tits were so damned big. He looked back at the road and shook his head at his own self. He knew what was happening. Passion rushed his veins. His brain was foggy with adulation. Then, he looked gave her one more glance. She looked so good. Flip scanned every road sign he drove by for the next few miles--hoping for an indication of a truck stop or something. And there it was--a park en route! He followed the signs to the public park and drove through in search of a place to park. It took little time for him to find the park’s most discreet area--a wide open circle of dirt adjacent to a seemingly endless forest. 

It was early in the morning. No one else was there. Just the birds and insects that flitted and flew from tree to tree. Flip parked the van and tapped Mae’s thigh. Her eyes popped open quickly. “Mae?” “Yeah?” she asked yawning. “What’s wrong?!” “If I don’t get your tits in my mouth right now, I’m gonna lose my fuckin’ mind.” _____________________ Mae was nothing but nerves as her and Flip climbed into one of the back seats. Mae started undoing her pants, but Flip grabbed her shirt and ripped it open, sending the buttons flying. “Flip!” she cried. He grunted and pushed the cups of her bra up--causing her breasts to spill out. Then, he wrapped his lips around her left nipple, massaging the entire breast in the process. Mae ran her fingers through his hair, and watched him feast like a starving man. He held onto her breast as though it were going to run away from him, and moved his mouth to the other one--also giving the nipple a hard suck.  “Shit, Flip,” Mae whispered. “I missed you so much...” “Me, too Babygirl. Me, too...” he mumbled. 

He devoured her breasts for a few minutes before removing his belt and undoing his jeans. Mae lifted her leg--pulling it closer to her, and unzipped her boot. Flip grabbed the heel and pulled it off. They repeated the process on her other boot--which was hanging over the back of the seat. As Mae worked at her own jeans--pushing the denim and her panties down to the floor simultaneously--Flip pulled out his wallet, yanked out a condom and slid it on. He sucked his index and middle finger and shoved it into Mae’s pussy. She let out quiet moans as he worked her open, preparing her for him.  “I want you to get on top. You think you can handle that?” he asked.  “You know I can.” Flip bit his bottom lip and pulled his fingers out. Jeans stuck around his knees, he sat up and pressed his ass down on the leather seats. Mae sat up, straddled him, and gave him a hot, wet kiss. Flip held her hips and slowly--carefully--eased her down onto his rock-hard length. “Fuck...” they both groaned. Mae worked over him a little--trying to find comfort as he split her open like a log for firewood. Then, she began to bounce. He grabbed her hips and stared at her face. He couldn’t stare into her eyes--she had then squeezed shut, and was biting her lip.  “There you go, beautiful,” he mumbled. He gave her ass a slap.  “Mmph!” she hummed. She rested against his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck--groaning and clenching her teeth every time his tip hit the right spot. “Are you holding your moans in?” he asked. She was. But she wasn’t conscious of it until he asked. Suddenly, she realized the van was also bouncing and squeaking. Her eyes popped open and she scanned their surroundings. “There’s nobody out here,” Flip said, moving his hands directly onto her ass. He guided her up and down, and up and down--harder and faster. “Shit!” she shouted. “That’s right. Make all the noise you need to. Don’t hold that shit in. Didn’t I tell you in Florida?” he asked, his gruff voice booming so close to her ear that it made her temporal lobes feel like they were vibrating. “I’m gonna make you scream my name every time.” He smacked her ass hard. “Every...time.” “Oh, God...” Mae moaned. She fell against his chest again and closed her eyes--temporarily removing her own sense of sight so that touch was enhanced. She felt Flip’s chest moving up and down under hers; the calloused flesh of his large palms holding and kneading her ass cheeks; his dick dragging along her walls. Then, a hand moved away from her ass. He shoved it into the tight space between them and found her clit.  “Fuck!” Mae shouted. She sat up and stared into his dilated pupils. Her breasts smacked his chin until he stuck his tongue out and was able to capture one her nipples again.  Mae’s bouncing slowed down. She leaned across him once more, lifted her lower body just before the head of his dick came out of her, and expertly slid back down. Flip let go of her breast to let out an expletive.  “Do that shit again,” he said, throwing his head back and staring up at her. She did as requested--lifting off of him almost completely, then sliding back down. She did it one more time, and before she could lift a fourth time, Flip wrapped his arms around her waist, kept her down, and began to thrust up into her. “Aaah!” she cried. He dug deep inside of her, making her feel every pulse and every drag against her velvety walls--reminding her of what she hadn’t been getting for months. His pace was moderate, but each thrust was deep. He abruptly paused his stroke, grabbed her hair, and tilted his chin up. “You feel that dick deep inside of you, baby?” he whispered freakishly low. He pressed into her deeper. Deeper than she realized was possible. “Yes...” she squealed. Her nails dug into the nape of his neck. “Does it feel good?”  “Yes, Flip, yes...” she mumbled, shaking her head in disbelief. Flip gripped her scalp and banged into her one hard time. “Can’t hear you...” he said, his voice going above a whisper. “YES! FUCK!” she began to grind into him. “I wanna come, Flip. Please, make me come. Please!” Mae pleaded. Flip picked up his pace again, and Mae met his thrusts.  “Lean back and let me see you rub that pretty clit,” he said. “I’ve got you.” Mae leaned back and Flip held her with a palm against her lower back--making sure she didn’t fall backward. As she bounced her squelching pussy on his length, she rubbed her clit with the pads of her fingers. In no time, the heat began to build up in her belly. She tightened around him, and worked herself toward her release, screaming to the van’s ceiling. As she came, he drilled into her hard. “Fliiiiip! Yesssssssss!” she squealed, breasts bouncing all over the place. “Fffuuuuck!”

Flip began pumping shallow thrusts up into her--surrendering to the rush that soon fell over him. Mae looked down with a sweet (and pleased) smile as she rode out her wave--enjoying the spurt of warmth that filled her up. She could tell that it was a lot, too. Only a thin layer of protection keeping their sweet saps from merging and creating something more. 

Flip pulled her back to him and devoured her mouth. Then, they took a few minutes to catch their breath. Soon, they put their clothes back on. Mae had to dig in her suitcase for another shirt. Despite the place still being empty, Flip discreetly tossed his condom in a large garbage bin nearby. He climbed into the van and looked over at Mae. She returned the glance and burst into laughter, and he did the same. 

“Need me to drive, big boy?” she asked smirking.  “No. You just sit back and look pretty for me,” Flip said. He slapped her thigh and started the Volkswagen back up. 

They left the park warm and satisfied, and made their way down to Tennessee. 

____________________ TAG LIST @aloneandsleepless @tsarinastorm If you’d like to be on any of my tag lists, please leave a comment on my Tag List Request post!

[banashee]

 Day 1: Snow

 When Clint wakes up before sunrise one day in december, he knows without looking or checking his phone that it’s been snowing at night. It’s just a feeling, not based on any facts yet, but he knows this with the certainty of a child who has been waiting for it ever since the last spring snow has melted.

 He slides out from under the many blankets and from Natasha’s grip around his waist, careful not to wake up Lucky who is sleeping by their feet. Clint can’t hear it, but he knows that his dog snores loud enough that it is a miracle their furniture hasn’t turned to sawdust yet.

 “Just like your human.” Natasha tells Lucky every time while gently scratching the good spot behind his ears. Clint laughs then, claiming that accusation to be entirely untrue. Every single time, without a fail. Natasha will laugh in response and god, Clint loves that sound. As it is tradition by now, she will reply that his opinion doesn’t count since he wouldn’t be able to tell now, would he?

 It only makes him laugh harder and love her more.

 The cold air of the room hits Clint. He’s still sleep-warm, but the bedroom is freezing cold. They never sleep with the window open - both of them are way too paranoid for that - but the building is old, and there are always cracks and crevices where the icy chill of winter can creep in.

 Sooner than later, Clint knows he will curse up a blue storm when he has to fix the damn radiator for the billionth time, like every winter. But right now, the lingering warmth of his partners embrace and the sleeping dog keep him warm. When he peeks out of the blinds and into the early morning of New York, the street lights and neon signs reflect themselves in glittery snow on the ground. Even the streets are still covered, and the parked cars by the side of the road are half-buried under a fluffy white blanket.

 Childlike excitement and a giddiness spark through him, and Clint smiles.

 Silently, he creeps down the hallway. Chances are, Natasha already woke when he left because she always notices, but maybe she already fell back asleep. Only a few years ago, that would have been unthinkable. At that time, neither of them would have been able to find any rest unless they went to check on the other, just to make sure they’re okay.

 Just to make sure there is no attack.

 Just to make sure the other wasn’t on the verge of a breakdown.

 Now, these days are less and less, and both of them are doing mostly alright. Enough to be able to go back to sleep when they wake up because the other slides out of the bed for any reason that isn’t urgent.

 Clint is clad in only underwear and one of his ancient T-shirts. This one is a cheesy, cheap thing from some tourist attraction on the other side of the planet, but it’s well-loved and worn soft, and he refuses to part with it until it either falls apart, or, much more likely, it finds its way to Natasha’s side of the closet. Clint knows, if one item of his clothing is suddenly missing under mysterious circumstances, chances are he’ll find Natasha wearing it or squirreling it away to sleep in later.

 Right now, the cold from the windows is creeping into him, and Clint takes a thick, woolen blanket from the back of the couch while walking past, wrapping it around his shoulders. He starts a pot of coffee in the kitchen, room still dark around him. It doesn’t make a difference - his eyes are good enough to see what he is doing.

 While the coffee is running through, Clint makes his way over to the floor length window next to the balcony door.

 He sits down on the floor, blanket wrapped around himself and with his forehead pressed up against the cool window. The glass is fogging up due to his warm breath and he wipes it with a corner of the blanket. Then he settles down to watch the snow fall in the dark.

 It’s a beautiful sight, and he loses time for a bit.

 Clint only moves to look away from the window when Natasha sits down next to him, with Lucky trotting after her, holding two large mugs of coffee and handing one over to him with a sleepy smile. He turns to kiss her good morning, and then the two of them settle down with Lucky by their feet, watching the streets of Brooklyn in silence. They simply breathe in each other's company, without a single word, but utterly happy.

 The snow outside keeps falling.

 By the time they have finished their first coffee of the day, the street lights have turned off, and the snow is glittering in the low light of the slowly rising sun. Natasha puts her empty mug down on the floor, then she wraps herself around Clint, snuggled up close to him and smiles happily.

 She knows just how much he loves the snow. Even though she’s had more than her fair share of icy weather while growing up in Russia and many years following, she can’t help but let him infect her with excitement.

 It amazes her sometimes, that people like them can find happiness in such small things, what with everything they’ve lived through.

 The two of them have been home for each other for a long time now. It’s taken them longer than most, but now they are finally free to      live     and not just survive. Even after all these years, it feels a little bit surreal sometimes but they wouldn’t want it any other way.

 By the time the sun is up, they get up from the floor to start making breakfast.

 Lucky is crunching loudly on a bowl of kibble while Liho is inhaling wet cat food and their humans work together in the kitchen. Natasha and Clint move around each other in a familiar and well-practised way, and neither of them talks much.

 Some days, one or both of them are particularly chatty in the mornings, but that’s rare. Especially on a day like this one, when they started it in such a romantic way.

 Clint disappears into the bedroom to get his hearing aids at some point and soon after, the room smells of pancakes, eggs with bacon and another pot of coffee.

 They stay in the kitchen, since the room has warmed up from their cooking and the rest of the apartment is still cold - Clint sighs into his half empty coffee mug.

 “I’ll definitely have to take a look at the damn heat again.”

 Natasha nods, running one hand through her messy red hair. She turns to face Clint so he can read her lips as she answers,

 “Let’s do that soon. We’ll freeze our asses off when we come home from the-”

 Natasha finger-spells W-A-L-K so that Lucky doesn’t run crazy at the word “walk” like he tends to do,

 “- and the apartment is still cold.”

 “Yup.” Clint nods, and shoots a dirty look in the direction of the offending appliance.

 “Let me finish my coffee and I’ll get to it.”

 Half an hour and many profanities later, the heat is running again and the apartment warms up rapidly. As soon as Clint is done with the work, Liho curls up on top of the radiator.

 “You’re welcome.” he tells the cat, and strokes the shiny, black fur in between her ears. He can’t pick up the purr, but Clint can certainly feel it. Like a little motor, Liho is vibrating under his touch, leaning into it for a moment. Then, a pair of green eyes slowly blinks at him before Liho is drifting off to sleep in the blissful heat.

 Natasha is already dressed in one of his hoodies when Clint enters the bedroom to put on some pants. Both of them layer up before they are ready to leave - they plan to spend a good amount of time outside, not just to get some exercise for Lucky and themselves, but also to enjoy the snow day. There are no other plans and they don’t have to be anywhere. The day is all theirs.

 “Lucky! Come on boy, let’s go out for a walk!” Clint calls out and a second Later, the yellow mutt comes scrambling down the hallway, barking in excitement and running circles around his human. He waits for the dog to calm down so he can put a leash on him, as well as snow boots.

 It’s freezing cold outside, and Clint wouldn’t want to be out there with bare feet - so why would he do that to his beloved companion? Besides, he doesn’t know if someone put road salt on their way yet.

 As soon as they step out the front door, a biting cold wind hits them. The air smells fresh and clean, which is rare enough here in the big city, but they’ll take the magic for as long as it lasts.

 The city is already covered in blinking fairy lights and all sorts of festive decor. Somebody is baking, and the heavenly scent of it wafts through an open window and down the street.

 “Hmm, so good.”

 “We could bake later. It’s about time.” Clint sounds excited about that, not only for the cheesy pre-Christmas-time-reasons. He likes doing it, and it’s been a while since he had the time to do so. Avengers business never sleeps for long. But right  now, they have a small stretch of free time.

 “You mean      you     bake and I steal your raw dough? Because I’m totally game for that” Natasha smirks - she is capable of many things, but baking isn’t one of them. She does, however, have a huge sweet tooth. Thankfully, her partner is able to produce what must be magic in the kitchen.

 “Eh, same thing.” He wraps one arm around her shoulders, and they share a bit of body heat on their way to the park.

 The sky is blue and bright, and there is another round of fresh snow coming down. When they reach their destination, Lucky can barely contain his excitement - he keeps running wild and digging up the thick white snow, again and again as if he is on the search for a hidden surprise.

 Every now and then, he’ll return to Clint and Natasha for cuddles, but then he’ll get distracted by a snowflake and it all starts over, until they decide it’s time to go home.

 A hot shower feels great, especially now that the heat is working again.

 Cold and wet clothes are immediately tossed into the dryer, and they take their time. When they step out of the room, they make their way back to the kitchen. Natasha starts making hot chocolate, one of the few recipes she trusts.

 There is an unhealthy amount of melted chocolate and heavy cream in it, as well as their special mix of spices that they tossed together just for this occasion. By the time their drinks are ready, Clint finishes kneading a batch of dough and waits for Natasha to pull away a piece to snack on before he puts the ball of dough into the fridge to firm up - this is going to take a while.

 They are happy to curl up by the window again, wrapped up in blankets and with their animals close. Liho is curled up near Natasha, oblivious to the world around them and fast asleep while Lucky is snoring again, with his head pillowed on Clint’s lap.

 Clint keeps running a hand through the thick, golden fur and leans his cheek against Natashas head, who has chosen his shoulder as her pillow. A lingering scent of orange flowers wafts up whenever she moves, coming from the shampoo that she uses for as long as Clint can remember knowing her. It’s so her, so very much familiar.

 He knows it so well, he once managed to bring her a new bottle from the store just by smelling every single one on the shelf. He couldn’t remember the name of it to save his life, but that scent - he’d recognize it anywhere.

 That day in winter, they sit together in silence and watch the snow through the window, which is still falling and creates a new layer of glittery white fluff on the ground. While the world outside is just as cold as it is beautiful, they are happy to be warm and happy at home.

 Life is good sometimes.

     END

 *+~

 Side note: while writing this, I’ve had this song on loop more than any other:

     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GScdfCKB7xA  

 Jeremy Renner - “Stereo Love”

 It’s just beautiful

*+~

This is a writing challenge set up by AJ Woolfenden on Instagram, starting on December 14th. One word per day for a week. Works shared have to use #writingweek

https://www.instagram.com/p/CILEG_agRzF/?igshid=1p72flhf7lhzz

Day 1: Snow Day 2: Festive Lights Day 3: Santa’s hat Day 4: Gifts Day 5: Silent Night Day 6: Red Noses Day 7: Miracles

All cover photos 1-6 used from Pixabay , 7th from unsplash. Free to use photos

[neworegoncoastcamping-blog]

Oregon Coast Camping: Free Or Nearly Free Spots

Just north of Bandon, Oregon, Bullards Beach State Park provides up RV camping by the ocean with scenic views of the historic Coquille River Lighthouse. Nestled among shore pines, guests can explore the Coquille River Lighthouse, the mouth of the river, and the shoreline. The lighthouse itself is open to visitors daily for guests to study about the building and the area.

A small campground located just north of Tillcum Beach Campground, this area has 42 tent sites and two yurts with loads of ocean views close by. A beautiful state park situated simply south of Oregon Coast Camping area with 23 tent websites, two rustic yurts, two rustic log cabins, and 6 deluxe yurts. This campground is generally a well-kept secret with Umpqua River Lighthouse, which has an adjoining museum and is managed by the Douglas County Parks Department, nearby. Located two miles north of Bandon-by-the-sea, this state park has lots to see and do with nearby Coquille River Lighthouse and Bandon Marsh National Wildlife Refuge. The park has 13 yurts and no tent websites, unfortunately, however does sport a horse camp with eight primitive websites. The close by city of Bandon, the "Cranberry Capitol of the World," has shops, galleries, and eating places available.

We had a nice time and this activity was particularly enjoyed by our teenage daughter. My first thought is that no matter how a lot time you determine to spend on the Oregon coast, it won't be sufficient. The seashores are all beautiful and the residents are friendly and welcoming.

On the southern half, when such amenities are unavailable, replenish with freshwater from streams and rivers. Study the tide tables so you understand what to expect on long stretches of seashore. Officially, the Oregon Coast Trail is 382 miles lengthy, but the precise distance varies depending on the way you select to hike it.

Further south from right here, much more tenting with breathtaking views could be found, making this a fantastic first night’s stop on a trip down the Oregon Coast. Cape Lookout provides easy accessibility to the seaside and a perfect view of the ocean. If you love to hike, you will find eight miles of mountaineering and walking trails via a lush old-growth forest. The campground also offers 13 yurts, six deluxe cabins, 2 group tent tenting sites, sizzling showers and bogs, and one electrical website with water. Our final pick for the Oregon Coast is the Umpqua Lighthouse State Park, situated in the Central Oregon Coast. This is a smaller campground, featuring solely 17 websites with hookups; eight are full hookups and 9 are electrical and water only. [newline]It’s nonetheless got plenty of features that make it a fantastic possibility for that winter camping journey you’ve been dreaming of.

South Jetty Rv & Tenting Resort

The nostalgic 1920’s-era Promenade is perfect for strolling or biking along the beach and the seaside itself is extensive and clean and ideal for taking part in or relaxing. Harris Beach State Park has everything you’ll need, apart from laundry. Amenities include clear shower and flush bogs, firewood on the market, onsite camp host, playground, dump station. And of course, the best amenity of all, the location right on the coast!

Ask An Rv Pro: 10 Tenting Tips That May Remodel Your Travels 311534

Instead, we ventured on to Cape Perpetua Scenic Area and spent at least an hour making an attempt to seize the perfect shot of the Spouting Horn and Thor’s Well. Tillamook is house to the long-lasting Tillamook Cheese Factory where you'll find a way to watch the production of a few of the one hundred seventy,000 kilos of cheese that they produce day by day. It’s additionally blessed with five rivers, five bays and of course the Pacific Ocean so it’s an excellent spot for water activities. About six miles north of Port Orford on the South Oregon Coast. Large, first-come, first-served campsites tucked into the trees; cabins, group and horse camps additionally out there by reservation.

Nestled close to a river, with straightforward accessibility to the path of the autumn. The coastal campground lies a pair miles south of the place the Alsea River meets the Pacific Ocean. The campground gives a selection of single-family campsites, a few which have each electrical and water hookups. The campground gives a wonderful location for whale watching. Most campsites have beachfront views, and sunsets are to not be missed. Many Campendium guests rave about how clean the park is and the natural beauty you can find here while tenting on the Oregon coast.

Devil’s Lake State Recreation area provides RV and tent tenting, and is lower than a half day’s drive north of Beverly Beach. With 28 full hook-ups and 54 tent sites, you can normally discover the proper spot here in the trees but be ready for crowds. This is the one OR campground positioned in a city, Lincoln City to be specific. Summer activity includes boat leases and day use on the lake. Like nearly all Oregon tenting, yurts are also available for an inexpensive payment. Beverly Beach is five miles north of the city of Newport, and can be a state park.

Pacific

Campsites are amongst sparse bushes ¼-mile inland from a sandy seashore at the mouth of the Umpqua River. Campsites inland amongst bushes, but solely a brief walk from Sunset Bay. Nearby Shore Acres and Cape Arago state parks are a short drive away.

The site is along a big creek with mountaineering trails to Alsea and Green Peak falls. There’s a swimming gap, outhouses, and an attractive landscape filled with ferns and bushes. This web site provides a more primitive camping experience, excellent for the camper on the lookout for a chance to find a little bit of solitude and enjoy nature. A chance to camp at Green Mountain is value braving the tough access road.

At the tip of a enjoyable day exploring and wandering, retire to your Oregon vacation rentals on the coast, excellent for watching the sundown, and rely the celebrities. Come expertise a seaside glamping journey, and guide your individual beach camping! These are simply five of the most effective campgrounds situated alongside the Oregon Coast.

If you need an much more spectacular show, go at sunrise or sundown as well and get a shot that can shock even the most skilled of photographers. After heading again to camp from the Circles in the sand appearance, we were enjoying a lazy and euphoric evening. Luckily our canines were around, the rasciliy raccoon tripped over my tent stake, and triggered Zoey into a barking frenzy. Zoey is my canine that is half Cocker Spaniel, part poodle and definitely likes to chase animals of any type. This group was started by a person named Denny, who in an effort to search out that inner peace, you started to attract in the sand.

The answer is to use designated Oregon coast camping when you don’t wish to hunt down the uncommon coastal tenting to stake your territory with your outside recliner chair or tent. Campsites are on a grassy space with some timber, near Floras Lake. A quick trail leads previous the lake to dunes and a long, sandy seaside.

Oregons 12 Greatest Tenting Locations

We went at low tide later in the evening and it looks like folks had already picked the beach for the whole sand dollars. The Bigelow Hot Springs was solely a 0.1-mile trek in if that. Make certain you include water shoes because the rocks usually are not pleasant on bare ft.

For a whole listing of coastal cities in Oregon go to Visit the Oregon Coast website. This park is positioned on the south finish of town in Florence, OR, and is a superb place to name home while you explore the central Oregon coast. Bring your seashore bag and loosen up at Cape Cove Beach on the south side of Heceta Head after your hike. This rocky beach is a great place to watch sea birds and explore tide pools. Heceta Head is house to a lighthouse on the Oregon coast, is thirteen miles north of Florence, and thirteen miles south of Yachats.

With 33 campsites, Jones Creek is a superb spot to cool off from the summer season heat. With swimming holes at every turn, plenty of shaded campsites, and trails to explore at the Tillamook Forestry Center, there's greater than enough to fill a lazy weekend. The nearby Wilson River offers extra swimming and fishing opportunities. On the larger side,Nehalem Bay State Parkoffers a various vary of actions for all visitors. From crabbing to horseback using on the beach, the chances really feel countless. Quite busy through the warm summer months, reservations are really helpful here.

We found this spot listed on UltimateCampgrounds but we stopped in at the BLM workplace inCoos Bay to get the inside track on the world. They did warn us we wouldn’t be the only campers on the market and once we arrived, we understood what they had been getting at. Southern Oregon Coast Camping  near Gold Beach Oregon on Hwy 101 just 37 miles North of the California Boarder close to the Rogue River. In northern California, many of the public campgrounds are within the redwoods they usually refill quickly, so reservations are required during peak months and ought to be made well in advance. If you wish to combine it up, try the close by Yaquina Bay Lighthouse or the Oregon Coast Aquarium.

I hope this text on Free or practically free tenting Oregon coast was value studying. A novel kids’ playground is in fashion with locals in addition to campers. Guests take pleasure in strolling on the seashore and fishing within the surf. Seashore guests have to be cautious of sneaker waves and harmful rip currents. The close-by Sand Lake Estuary offers fishing, swimming, crabbing, kayaking, climbing, and wildlife viewing. Kayak excursions are equipped 7 miles south on Beaver Creek throughout July by the labor-day weekend.

After coming again house we realized we have been zero.25 miles away from where it really was. I don't imagine that path is just 2.5 miles although personally, my Fitbit said I had gone 3.92 miles by the time we rotated. We have been extremely disappointed about missing this feature as this can be a very fashionable trail. Be positive you explore the Tamolitch Blue Pool Trail on Google Maps and drop the little man to see what it looks like on a traditional day. There are a number of areas that appear to be the right spot, however alas aren't any. 1- Continue along the path that can convey you to a total of 10 totally different Waterfalls, every with its own distinctive look.

[killjoy-loveit]

Maybe It’s Because of the Sunshine

A/N: Welcome to Spring Season Stories! This is just the third of the daily stories in April, so be on the lookout for more! If you’re wondering what the posting schedule is, then search ‘Spring season Stories’ on my blog and the calendar should pop up. I would like to clarify that everything written in this story is complete fiction and isn’t to be taken as a true portrayal of reality. As always, the links for my masterlists will be in the notes.

Summary: Decorating always goes much faster with an extra pair of hands.

Word Count: 932

Genre: Fluff

     It was around six in the morning when you woke up. For some reason, it was just difficult to sleep nowadays. There’s so much excitement in the air since winter is finally coming to an end. Everyone’s ready to go out and greet the flowers and sunshine, sick of the cold, long, nights. You, for one, didn’t truly care about the changing of seasons too much. Each one has it’s own beauty, and moments to look forward to. However, you did easily get amped up by others’ energy, and it was typically around this time when people exuded a fresh burst of energy. Maybe it’s because of all the sunshine.

     For a brief second, you considered waking your boyfriend from his slumber, only to swiftly decide against it. He hadn’t been getting much sleep lately because of work, and it was starting to get to him- though he never actually said as much. It was more the type of thing that you could pick up, especially having been together for years. So, you slipped out of bed quietly, softly padding your way into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. After waiting a few minutes for the coffee to brew, you poured yourself a mug and moved into the small nook to the side of the kitchen.

     Two armchairs, very plush and cozy, sat in the nook, joined by a small side table. This spot was your favorite to start your mornings, being able to relax and enjoy the morning, drinking coffee, and, occasionally, when you got up early enough, to enjoy the sunrise. It’s a time that always allowed you to collect your thoughts, make a gameplan for your day. Sure, the plan didn’t always get executed perfectly, life’s a funny thing, but having a base outline to go with always made you feel more at ease. Today, your goal was to, finally, change the decorations of your home to fit the season. 

     A bright, new, refreshing change had to be made. All of the pillows on the couch had to be exchanged, the blanket over the back of it needed to be replaced with a lighter throw- one that wouldn’t have you sweating buckets minutes after pulling it over your legs. All of the small snowmen, nutcrackers, holly, mistletoe, and poinsettia’s needed to be put away. You’d been putting off doing it because, well, it’s a lot of work. But since today was an off day, you were free the whole time and you didn’t feel like slouching around like usual. There was this kind of itch you were feeling, the kind where you felt you just had to be doing something or all of the energy inside of you would just explode. 

     Thus, after you had finished off the last drop of coffee and finished the gameplan for the day, you started making changes. Quietly, you moved about the house, packing away all of the winter items into tubs that wouldn’t be seen again for a long while. It took longer than expected, probably because you hadn’t done this by yourself before, Seungsik always helped. Around half-past nine was when everything was packed away and you were ready to pull out the spring totes. There was just one problem. The totes were in the attic, and far too heavy to get down by yourself. 

     Just as you were contemplating how to find a solution to your problem, you heard a shuffling of feet and then came his voice. “Babe, where are you?” When Seungsik came around the corner he was sleepily rubbing at his eyes, his hair sticking up in all directions. After a second, when his eyes were cleared, he did a double-take at the living room’s state. “What… Did you put everything away yourself?”

     You nodded, smiling sheepishly. “I just had to do something, and I knew you were tired so I didn’t wake you up.”

     He moved to lean against the couch beside you. “I wouldn’t have minded. It’s a lot to do by yourself.”

     “Well, now that you’re awake,” you smiled brightly at him. “I do need help getting the spring totes from the attic and putting these ones away.”

     Seungsik just laughed before grabbing one of the winter totes. You were glad you didn’t have to think of a way to get the stuff down from the attic, you didn’t even know if it was possible to do so without potentially injuring yourself. Or breaking things. Neither of those outcomes is ideal. So you chalked it up to fate that he woke up right when you needed his assistance. Also, it’s quite amusing to watch him shuffle to and fro in his sweats with his hair messy from sleep.

     With his help, putting out the spring decorations got finished much quicker. The couch got pillows of soft yellows and blues and a pale gray crocheted throw. Pastel floral wall hangings replaced the pictures of snowy fields and cities. Small, brightly colored vases taking the place of the dark blues and browns. The crisp white curtains trading spots with pale green ones with a white floral pattern. The changes brightened up your home, making it truly seem like spring.

     “Hmm, we still need flowers for the vases.” You stated, looking around the room. “Daisies or sunflowers?”

     Seungsik paused a moment, tilting his head as he thought. “Why not both?”

     “Ooh! I like your thinking. Wanna go to the florist’s after lunch?” 

     “Sure,” He replied, raising his hand for a high five. “We make a great team.”

     You smacked his hand happily. “That we do!”