#been on a road trip and have been drawing to pass the time

[bananafire11]

Can you imagine if Wretched Jax and Carnival Jax could get along and become great friends? Or would the two of them fight until one died?

No, they wouldn't get along. Also, unless ive missed some lore, im pretty sure the carnival AIs cant exactly die so... wretched's got an annoying rat to deal with now /lhj

Less srs and more silly doodles below

[cacoetheswriting]

girl you have that really angsty Eddie fic where he gets hooked on things he shouldn't and it ruins his relationship with reader - please please please write some more Eddie angst, BEGGING

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader [modern day au] word count: 5k

summary: a weekend gateway to with your old high school friends? sounds like a dream! only it’s not really as it’s been three years since you last saw them. three years since you left hawkins without so much as a goodbye, and certain people tend to hold grudges.

content warnings: heavily unedited (sorry): angsty angst, mature themes & adult language, mentions & descriptions of underage alcohol consumption / substance abuse, anxiety / panic attacks, emotional hurt / no comfort, unrequited (sorta) love, some mutual pining, love triangle?, eddie is a bit of an asshole, also touches on topics of: divorce, death, grief — pls let me know if i missed any!

Parking your car at the desired destination, you glance out the half-opened window and note how the weather is far from ideal for the planned activities. 

It’s cold. Cold enough to make anyone's atoms shiver. Dark grey clouds cover every inch of the sky above, hiding the beautiful autumn sun. The air is brisk. It’s harsh against your skin as you eventually get out of the red Jeep and the unwelcoming breeze that follows makes you wish that you had packed warmer clothes for this weekend.

Jesus, you think, as if this trip wasn’t going to be hard enough.

When your feet hit the gravel below, you exhale, wondering whether it’s too late to change your mind about agreeing to come. Since the weather was seemingly against you, what’s to say the universe wasn’t going to continue ruining this weekend? But before you get a chance to decide what your next move is going to be, the door of the lake house swings open and Nancy runs out, arms spread wide as she squeals with excitement.

“I can’t believe you actually came!”

The hug she gives you is strong, almost full force. It takes you a second to register that one second she was running out of the house, and the next, her arms are wrapped tightly around you as if no time has passed between now and when you last saw her. Therefore, it takes you a second to hug her back, but when you do, a small smile circles your lips. Familiarity. Maybe this trip won’t be so bad after all.

“Of course I came,” you say as she draws back, “You know me, Nance, always down for a good time.”

Nancy laughs. “Oh, I remember.”

Then her smile falters just as fast as it appears and you know exactly which memory crosses her mind because your own thoughts wander back to that moment too, along with the people involved.

“Sorry, my joke was in poor taste. If you can even call that a joke.” You admit with a lighthearted huff.

“No, no.” Nancy shakes her head, but even with the years that have passed since you last saw each other in person, you know the look in her eye is one of concern.

You think to try and ease at least some of her worry since she did go through all the trouble to organise this weekend for your high school group to get together and the last thing you’d want is for her to second-guess ever inviting you.

“I- uh… I actually don’t really drink anymore.”

Her facial expression shifts to one of surprise, though she doesn’t say anything which would demonstrate that. Instead, she smiles again.

“Good for you,” the tone of her voice conveys pride and you’re grateful.

“Thanks, Nance.”

One day you’ll tell her about the road that led you to sobriety, but today’s not that day.

Today is about reintroducing yourself to the friends that have helped you get through four hellish years that were called ‘high school’. The people that were there for you through the good and the ugly; which got real fucking ugly sometimes. The group that most often than not was your literal lifeline. 

Nancy, your best friend. Robin, your sidekick. Jonathan, your unlicensed therapist. Steve, your partner in crime. And Eddie…

You haven’t seen any of them since graduation.

Three years of virtually no contact.

Sure, it made you wonder why you were even invited to this weekend getaway in the first place, but Nancy was always like a sister so you knew her motives were definitely not malicious.

“Let me help you with your bags,” the brunette girl offers and before you get a chance to decline, say you’ve got them on your own since you really didn’t bring much with you, she’s at the boot of your car.

While Nancy fills you in on the plans she’s made for everyone, the various activities she’s organised for the days ahead, the two of you gather your belongings before making your way towards the big house. 

Apparently everyone is already here.

Nancy, Jonathan, and someone called Argyle (a new addition to the group, undoubtedly a breath of fresh air following your departure), got here last night. Steve, Robin, and Eddie arrived this morning.

“But the boys went to the shop to get all the groceries we need for this weekend, so right now it’s just me and Robin.” Nancy explains, fingers wrapping around the door handle. It’s her way of saying not to be nervous, he wasn’t here right now, and with that your shoulders relax in relief.

The inside of the house is even more impressive than its exterior. High ceilings, all wooden floors, and decor that undoubtedly cost more than anything you own or could actually afford. In the living area, there’s paintings on the walls that depict the home during construction, then in its full glory, as it stands now. Various knick-knacks fill the shelving, and the bookcase at the back of the room is filled top to bottom with stories you’ve never even heard of.

You allow yourself to continue into the kitchen, which looks like a piece out of Architectural Digest. Modern touches to the original design, upgraded appliances that look like they’ve never been used. There’s a large dining table in the back of the space, already set for dinner. The windows behind it offer a perfect view of the lake and as you look at the water; peace. For a split-second, you let yourself really think that coming wasn’t a bad idea after all.

“Jesus, Nance, how the hell did you find this place?” You ask in awe once the girl stands beside you.

“Argyle has this aunt who’s an avid Airbnb user. Honestly, when he first showed me the pictures, I thought he was out of it, like he usually is, but here we are...”

You don’t get to tell her how beautiful you think it is ‘cause there’s a high-pitch screech that startles you, and within seconds, someone’s arms wrap around your frame, swaying you from side to side.

“When Wheeler told me you agreed to come, I swear I thought she was bluffing!”

Robin drops her arms, allowing you to turn in your spot and face her. The grin on her face is wide, complimenting her new haircut, which is about the only thing that’s changed in her physical appearance over the last three years.

She playfully smacks your arm. You do the same to her. It’s reminiscent of a handshake, an acknowledgment that despite the years of only sending and receiving generic birthday texts, you guys were still as close as ever.

“Long time no see, Buckley. Loving the new look.” You point to her long bleached locks.

“Yeah? I was going for that badass lesbian vibe. What Daenerys should’ve been.”

You chuckle. “Well, I’d say mission accomplished.”

“Thanks,” Robin smirks then takes the duffle out of your grasp and turns to Nancy, asking to lead the way to the room that’s been assigned to you.

Up the stairs and down the long hallway, the girls point to the shared bathroom, but Nancy says your room actually has an en-suite. Then she outlines which door leads to whose bedroom — Eddie’s is first up the stairs and you wonder whose choice it was to deliberately keep you two away — before stopping at the last door and pushing it open to reveal your safe space for this weekend.

First thought that crosses your mind is how this one bedroom is bigger than your entire apartment. The bed alone would probably not fit in your current home. Second thought is how you have the same view as in the kitchen, only higher up, and you thank Nancy for assigning you this room for that reason alone.

“It’s no big deal,” she replies with a shrug, “You had the longest trip out here, only fair you get the best room, so you can properly rewind.” 

“As the organiser, you should have the nicest room,” you counter, but Nance just waves her hand, dismissing what was going to be an offer to swap.

She proceeds to place the bag she was holding at the foot of the bed.

“Get settled in and we’ll start on food once the guys return.”

“You should have enough time to shower, if you want,” Robin chimes in, also dropping the duffel she carried up for you, “Knowing the four of them, they’re still trying to locate the gluten free sticker on the pasta Nance asked for.”

“Rob,” Nancy snorts.

The blonde shrugs. “You know it’s true! Those idiots can’t fucking read.”

They leave you shortly after, telling you to take your time to clean up and change into something more comfortable. 

When the door shuts with a soft thud, you exhale a breath you didn’t even realise you were holding. It’s all okay, it’s all okay, it’s all okay, you repeat to yourself silently, and although you feel a little calmer than when you first arrived, there is still tension in your neck. There’s only one reason for that. One that isn’t here right now, but is bound to arrive at any point in the next hour.

‘arrived safe & sound. still feeling a little nauseous about this whole thing, but I’m taking your advice.. keep positive.’ - The text to your mom sends with a whooshing sound as you throw your phone on the large bed.

You glance around the room again, taking in the decor as a distraction to the anxiety bubbling in your chest. The furnishings are similar to the rest of the house, classy with a modern twist. Peaceful colours that perfectly compliment the wooden fixtures, and the birds chirping melodically outside the open window only add to the serenity. It’s really one of the nicest places you’ve ever stayed in and you take a mental note to send Nancy a bouquet of flowers when you get home, as a thank you.

When you step under the shower, you’re even more grateful. 

Back in your own apartment, you’re not guaranteed warm water, having to often make a choice between rinsing off the hectic day or cleaning the dishes so there’s something to eat off. It’s the life you chose, so you really can’t complain, but standing here in silence as the hot droplets wash over your skin, you think maybe you chose wrong. Then you think how fucking selfish that is of you since there’s a clear list of reasons why, aside from the comfort of a scolding shower, the choices you made three years ago where far from good.

Leaving without saying goodbye to everyone, for one. No explanations, no notes.

Only Nancy knew of your plan. After all, she was the one that talked you into leaving. 

The final nail in the coffin — so to speak — was her opinion on the literal shitshow that the final months of your high school career had become. And when she sat you down, the afternoon before graduation, she made it clear how she was worried about you and perhaps it was for the best to get away from Hawkins. Leave everything and everyone behind, allowing yourself time to heal and get your head straight.

You had only planned to be gone that one summer. But things never go to plan, especially for you.

Three months turned into four, then six, and before you knew it, a year had passed since your departure. Some of the group had tried to reach out at various points during that time, but you didn’t engage — only replied to Nancy the odd time, and texted Robin the mentioned before birthday wishes. 

The one person you really wished checked in on you, was the only person that didn’t. Not like you could blame him. You broke his fucking heart.

It wasn’t entirely a secret that Eddie Munson had a big fat crush on you.

He wouldn’t call it love at first sight, but it was pretty damn close — as you later found out from Robin. Later. Too late. She then went on to say, when the rocker first laid eyes on you, standing at Nancy’s locker and laughing at something she’d said moments prior, Eddie’s heart skipped a beat. Then two. The metalhead thought you were perhaps the most gorgeous girl to ever walk down the halls of Hawkins High, although he never said it out loud. 

(Not to you anyway.)

Things changed however, when you started dating Billy Hargrove. 

That boy was a bad influence for sure, even more than Eddie’s wild antics, but at that point in your life, you saw the world through rose-coloured glasses and turned a blind eye to Billy’s shitty behaviour.

Your first drink was provided to you by the scruffy blonde.

The first time you blacked out was after his funeral.

Earth shattering, his sudden death. Having lost the first love you’ve ever had, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You didn’t know how to cope. By the time your senior year came around, and Eddie’s third attempt at graduation, your life only continued to spiral out of control.

Your parents announced their divorce. It was apparently no one’s fault — irreconcilable differences — but their break up meant the house you’d grown up in was being put up for sale and you suddenly had to choose who you wanted to live with. 

Being an only child never brought with it any pressures, until now. Your father was moving cross country. Relocating with his job, who no longer needed him at their Indianapolis location, preferred he run the new branch in Las Vegas. Your mother was also venturing outside Hawkins, just not as far. She apparently found this cute place in Fort Wayne and was already in talks with a local school there for a part-time teaching position.

The Wheelers took you in following a conversation between Karen and your mom about how you shouldn’t be finishing your high school education someplace new, so this solved one problem.

But being away from your support system unfortunately made you feel increasingly isolated. Your parents had this “open door” policy that you didn’t realise you needed until it was no longer readily available. Phone calls and texts just weren’t the same.

This time in your life proved how difficult it was to pretend you were genuinely happy.

Eddie was the first to notice the subtle change in your attitude. He’d often ask what was bothering you, but you’d always tell him nothing, so he eventually learned to stop and simply tried to distract you with his usual antics.

You hated him for it. You hated how he just knew how you were feeling. How he could sense those deep and inner thoughts you were trying to hide. And you hated now he would try to make you feel better when all you really wanted was for the sad feelings to swallow you whole.

Without proper supervision, your after school activities also shifted into ones that would fill the emptiness you were constantly feeling. You were always quite outgoing, always the first one to say yes when someone mentioned a party, but the months between December and April unlocked a new version of you. One not many people in your friend group were particularly a fan of, though all too afraid of saying something.

It all came crashing down the night of Chrissy Cunningham’s farewell party. A few days before graduation, she invited the entire senior year to her parents’ lavish home for a get together that her dickhead boyfriend called: Project X 2.0. 

You asked Steve to come with you — much to Eddie’s dismay.

In the end, Carver got his wish. The party was indeed memorable for all the wrong reasons and the endless list of mistakes you made that night, in your inebriated state, was precisely why you left Hawkins in a hurry.

Las Vegas turned out to not be so bad.

There were a few bumps in the road upon your first arrival. A few too many drunken nights, drunken fights, and drunken one night stands. But once your dad acknowledged your reckless behaviour was becoming a serious problem, things got a little easier. Therapy helped. 

A year and a half later, there was only one thing that made you want to reach for a drink to flush the hard work down the drain: Eddie Munson and how you treated him at that party, what you put him through that night.

In retrospect, you should’ve been the one to reach out to him. At least a call to say I’m sorry for the things I did and said. No time just felt like the right time and then, when Chrissy posted a picture of herself sitting happily in Eddie’s lap, it seemed a little too late.

Did it hurt to see him move on from the crush he had on you? Yes. 

Again, you couldn’t blame him for doing so.

-

“How was your shower?” Nancy asks when you come back downstairs.

She’s sitting on one of the sofas, a cotton blanket covering her legs. Robin is next to her, fingers working the keyboard of her phone, and looks up following Nancy’s question.

“No offence, but you look a lot better than when you first arrived.” 

The comment earns Buckley a good nudge to the rib cage by the brunette beside her. 

“Ow! Jesus Christ, Nance—”

“We talked about this,” Nancy interrupts, narrowing her eyes at the girl.

“It was a simple observation,” Robin defends, ��I’m sure she’s fucking nervous to be here, rightfully so—”

“Robin!”

“It’s okay,” you chime in and the girls simultaneously turn to look at you once again. “Buckley’s right. I am nervous.”

Both their expressions simultaneously turn to one of sympathy. You plaster on the best smile you can muster before making yourself comfortable in an armchair by the open window, feeling their gaze follow your every move. You want to tell them to stop, tell them that the nerves will pass so it’s no big deal, but they’d see right through you. The topic of you, Eddie, and that horrendous high school party will haunt this group like a ghost, lingering in the background even if it’s addressed — which you’re going to have to do very soon. That’s why you came.

“He asks about you all the time,” Nancy says after a long pause, “What’s she doing? Is she working, studying?”

“Is she seeing anyone?” Robin adds.

“Is she happy…”

The ache in your chest increases with every spoken word, fueled by the guilt you carried every single day for the last three years. Somehow knowing now that Eddie asked about you was worse than thinking he’s moved on because, selfishly, if he was happy, then it wasn’t all bad. If he was happy, then the harsh truths you drunkenly sputtered in his direction weren’t a cruel thing to do, they weren’t as vile as you remembered them to be. If he was happy, then what you did after wasn’t a complete betrayal.

“I-I never meant to hurt him,” you finally whisper, forcing down the tears that threaten to break. “I never meant to hurt any of you.”

The girls both offer you a smile.

“We know,” Nancy reassures, “That’s why we thought it’d be a good idea to invite you this weekend. What happened three years ago is so minor in terms of the rest of our lives, it’s time we all move past it.”

Nancy, the peacemaker.

“Plus I’m planning a trip to Vegas for my birthday and I need your help with organising,” Robin chips in, her smile shifting into a grin. “You wouldn’t have answered my call, but now there’s no escape.”

Robin, the girl that can always get you to laugh.

The chuckle that escapes your lips is genuine. For a split second, your nerves are eased and you’re transported back to the basement of your childhood home where the three of you spent hours planning your futures while flicking through trashy magazines in accompaniment to old hits blaring through the docking station your dad’s iPod was connected to. 

Back then, turning twenty-one seemed like a distant dream. 

So you proceed to reassure the blonde you are going to get her name on the list of some of the best clubs Vegas has and she squeals, jumping up to squeeze you with excitement, and telling you how Vickie, her girlfriend, was going to lose her shit over this, then she disappears into the kitchen, presumably to call Vickie with the news.

“You just made her day,” Nancy says, smiling kindly.

“I’m glad I could do at least that,” you reply, then add, “I’m happy to be here. Thank you for thinking of me, Nance.”

Whatever Nancy is about to say next is interrupted by the sound of tires on gravel. The engine is shut shortly after your head snaps in the direction of the entryway, a large gulp forming in the back of your throat.

The next few minutes pass at an agonisingly slow pace. You think you hear Nancy call out your name, but your focus is on the door alone, waiting for it to open, waiting for him to come inside. You’re anticipating his reaction to seeing you after all this time, wondering if he’d even acknowledge your presence or skip straight to the kitchen with the acquired groceries.

From a recent post on Instagram, you know what he looks like. Really good, if anybody asked. You were careful not to like it despite your finger hovering over the image for a few seconds too long. Then you were careful not to like any other picture as you scrolled through his profile until you reached the very end: a post of the two of you at a Halloween party your junior year, the night you finally talked him into creating an account. 

Thanks to the light stalking, you also know him and Chrissy broke up a few weeks ago. He seemingly deleted any trace of the preppy blonde from his profile, she did the same with him, and you couldn’t deny the stinge of satisfaction that cursed through your veins upon that revelation.

When the doorknob rattles, you hop on your feet.

There’s no going back now. You prepared yourself for this moment ever since you accepted Nancy’s invitation. Time to face the music.

Jonathan walks in first. He greets Nancy with a kiss before offloading the twelve-pack of beers onto the floor and turning his attention to you. His smile is big and you’re feeling a little less nervous when he pulls you into a silent hug. When he pulls back, he pats you on the shoulder, then picks up the box he’s after placing on the floor and walks in the direction of the kitchen.

The guy that introduces himself as Argyle is next. Heavy lidded, he’s holding an open bag of Doritos and jokes about how he’d also give you a hug but he doesn’t trust himself with the orange residue on his fingers.

“White t-shirts are the devil, man,” he draws out the last syllable and flops onto the couch next to Nancy, offering her a corn triangle. When she politely declines, he just shrugs and throws it in the air, only to not catch it with his mouth, the piece falling onto the wooden floor.

With your gaze now focused on the chip, a single step away from you, Nancy scolds Argyle to not do that again. In the midst of this small ordeal, you don’t hear your name being said. Only when a white Nike sneaker appears in your field of vision, stepping on the Dorito and smashing it to pieces, you look up at the person addressing you.

Steve’s expression is full of emotion, but he doesn’t move from the spot he’s found himself in. He doesn’t attempt to hug you or reach out for you like the others did, only staring into your eyes as if he was mesmerised by the fact you were actually here.

“Shit– I mean…”

“Yeah…”

That’s all that you can say right now because it’s not yet the time to address what also went down between the two of you at the infamous party. Steve seems to be on the same page as you, opting instead to finally take that step forward and hesitantly wrap his strong arms around your frame.

The hug is awkward at first, but when you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck as if no time has passed, exhaling softly when your hands make home on his back, the boy relaxes and his grip on you tightens ever so slightly. He whispers, “I missed you, sweetheart.”, into your ear and you instantly return the sentiment because it’s true, you missed him terribly. More than you cared to admit to yourself before this very moment.

For a few seconds, you forget where you are. Inhaling the scent of Steve’s aftershave and revelling in the way his arms perfectly folded around you, making you feel safe. For a few seconds, you feel at peace. For a few simple seconds, you forget about the person you’re still to see. The person that most likely wouldn’t be as open to seeing you again, especially now that you were in Steve’s arms.

The door shuts with a tame bang, a distinctive sound of runners tapping against the wooden floor, Nancy says your name as Robin calls out for Steve, you think you hear Argyle murmuring “Ohhh shit, dude”, then someone clears their throat and you finally open your eyes, which seemingly have closed moments prior.

Your throat dries.

There, leaning against the archway with his hands hidden in the pockets of his dark denim jeans is the boy who was once your friend, if not more.

Unlike Steve, Eddie stares at you with a blank look in his eyes, devoid of any real emotion. The emptiness behind the mahogany sends a shiver down your spine and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the position he has once again found you in.

Freeing yourself from Steve’s grasp, you hold your arms close to your chest for protection. He places a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, before motioning for Argyle to follow him out of the room, where Nancy and the rest of the group just disappeared — leaving you alone with Eddie.

Neither of you says anything for what feels like an eternity.

You’re afraid to blink, just in case he disappears during the brief second your eyes close. Truthfully, he has every right to do so. Rush upstairs and slam his bedroom door shut as you remain right where he left you, forever haunted by the choices you made three years ago.

No, no. 

There’s a reason you came and that’s to say you’re sorry.

Before you get a chance to break the silence, Eddie scoffs under his breath, dipping his head while running a hand through his brown locks. His hand remains at the back of his neck when he looks up at you again, a stupid smirk now plastered across his face.

“So, you and Harrington seem close as ever.”

Not the first words you expected to come out of his mouth, but given the situation he’s just encountered, they’re not surprising.

You nervously clear your throat, hugging yourself tighter.

“Uhm… No, we were just—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupts, his words cold yet the tone of his voice deceives him just a little. Also, if he actually didn’t care, then why make a sly comment in the first place?

But you don’t get to point that out, firstly ‘cause you’re still building up the courage to speak, and secondly because he’s quicker to continue with making his opinion known.

“Obviously you’ve always done whatever the fuck you wanted. Whoever you wanted.”

Ouch.

“Eddie, I-I…” you sigh quietly,  “We were just hugging. We haven’t seen each other in a while.”

Eddie scoffs. “Cute.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t be condescending.” You shake your head. “I didn’t come here to argue with you.”

“Then why did you come here?”

“‘Cause I missed all of you, plus Nancy invited me and I-I wanted to take this trip to apologise. Explain myself.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. 

“Well as far as I’m concerned, you can keep your apology,” he states sternly, standing up straight and taking a step in your direction. “Clearly the rest of them are right back to licking your ass, just like they did in high school. Entertaining your shitty behaviour, but I’m not interested.”

His words hurt. It feels like tiny nails are being hammered into your heart and you’re helpless to stop it.

“I don’t care for you and I don’t want to be around you. Since we’re stuck here, just refrain from jumping on Harrington at every chance you get. It’s fucking desperate behaviour.”

Tears burn down your cheeks slowly. They blur your vision and make you look like a giant fucking fool, even bigger than you already are. Eddie doesn’t owe you anything, you know that. Yet here you stand, silently crying over his animosity.

Nancy's words ring in your ears, “he asks about you, he asks if you’re happy.”. What a load of bullshit. He clearly doesn’t give a shit.

“I’ll make sure to stay out of your way then,” is all you manage to blurt out, wiping the wet droplets with the back of your hand.

Pushing past him, making a point to shove his shoulder with a little force, you hurry upstairs and into the confines of your bedroom. You make sure not to let the door shut with a bang, steering away from the dramatics Eddie undoubtedly wanted to provoke. Yes, he hurt your feelings, but you sure as hell weren’t going to let him ruin this weeknd for you and the rest of your mutual friends.

His reaction didn’t surprise you. In fact, you expected it. 

That doesn’t mean it’s any easier to digest.

Taking a few minutes to collect yourself, you check your phone and begin to open unseen notifications from various social media sites in an attempt to think about anything else than Eddie’s words.

“Deseperate fucking behaviour,” he’s said that to you before. The deja-vu hits harder than anticipated, making the nausea you thought you surpassed earlier spring right back up, stronger.

Yup. As you regain control of your breathing, you think for sure that coming here was definitely a mistake.

thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

[butterflyscribbles]

Wachowski Family HC List

Part 1: The Wachowski Origins

Buckle up bc I’m going way back straight out of the gate….the Wachowski family wouldn’t exist without two certain soulmates coming together after all.

- Let’s start from the very beginning….Tom and Maddie have at least known each other since grade school. In high school, they were part of the same friend group but Maddie had been dating someone else at the time. Tom had girlfriends “come and go” as his mom put it, but was single most of senior year.

- Tom was already en route to becoming a sheriff, having it run in the family and with his other two “lunatic” brothers on their way in to very different directions, he was on the way to being the lone and youngest Wachowski left to “defend Green Hills” once his dad retired. I lowkey feel like it’s actually something he never really wanted to do. It was more of a family obligation. However, he did like helping people (and he didn’t want to go to college) that was really the biggest draw for him lol.

- Maddie was the resident biology and animal nerd in her class. Her dad was a park ranger that worked closely with Tom’s dad at the sheriff’s office, especially for hunting/fishing license issues and animal control type calls. Watching her dad work was where she developed a love for nature and decided she wanted to be a vet.

- It wasn’t until one night senior year at a house party, Maddie’s boyfriend at the time dumped her just before prom. Tom, being a close friend and the upstanding “punch first, questions later” kind of guy we know he is, started a fight with the jerk that broke her heart. He skeedaddled with her from the party before Tom’s dad showed up to break everything up. ✨That was spark #1✨ They continued talking and hanging out more after that (it was also since then Rachel has been giving Tom the side eye).

- High school graduation came and went, Maddie went off to college and Tom stayed in Green hills and started training to become a deputy. He and Maddie kept in touch even when she was off studying. When she came back into town to visit her family, they would hang out and catch up.

- Tom’s dad passed away not long after he graduated and things were a bit rough for Tom at this point. His oldest brother didn’t even show up to the funeral and his other brother didn’t help much with the process. Maddie was a beacon of light in this darker point of his life.

- One weekend while he’s out driving with her during this time, they come across a fawn by the side of the road that (very clearly) lost its mom. Tom was an emotional wreck, not wanting to leave it behind. Maddie calmly helped scoop it up in some spare blankets in the back of his car and they took it to her dad so he could find the proper wildlife rehabilitator to send it to. ✨That was spark #2✨ They started dating the next day.

- Skip ahead a bit, they’re big in love. They move into a small condo type deal together once Maddie graduates college and starts veterinary school. Tom is working his three jobs to help her pay tuition: as a police officer, part time at a local sewing shop his mom used to work at, and taking odd jobs around town mowing, doing car repairs, landscaping work. He’s exhausted, she’s exhausted, but they love each other sm….they’re married 2 years later after he proposes on a camping trip (guess who was already on Earth and witnessed the proposal but was too young to even know what it meant at the time).

- Jump again, they buy their house after Maddie has been working as a full time vet for a while and Tom is promoted to sheriff.

- Maddie’s parents are both still alive and together though her dad is retired. Her mom wrote for the Green Hills newspaper for a good while on top of taking care of her and Rachel. Tom’s mom is also still kicking. She left her job at the locally owned sewing store when Tom’s dad passed and mostly just makes her living selling crafts and vegetables from her garden at the local farmers market while also giving local children sewing lessons. Tom is doing most of the supporting for her while getting some help from his one older brother who actually got his life together a bit and got a job in insurance. He moved back to Montana, but not to Green Hills. Tom hasn’t heard from his eldest brother in over a decade.

- They’ve been living in their house for about 8 years before the events of Sonic 1. They’re “too busy for kids” but they adopt Ozzy from a litter that was dropped off where Maddie works.

- Then we all know what happens next…

[oceanicwriting]

quickly.

summary: you and mattheo are coworkers at your father's bank. you're both pretty competitive in the area, but you were both madly in love outside of that.

pairing(s): mattheo riddle x fem!reader

a/n: sorry if this is boring! i've been on my road trip and i haven't had much time to post. i'll keep doing my best, promise and kisses <3.

+18 smut, standing, public sex, praising, cursing

ㅤㅤㅤ the museum where the fundraising dinner for the magic school in london will be held shines like never before. among all its event rooms, there is one that has large paintings, tables, and people talking animatedly. among those guests was you.

ㅤㅤㅤ ever since you finished school, you have worked at the bank that your father owns. you have always been part of the project coordination wing, leading selected teams to develop marketing strategies or loan plans for companies in the magic world.

ㅤㅤㅤ —young lady! how are you? —an adult man, accompanied by a girl who looks your age, calls out from behind you—. your father just told me about your latest project for mr. graham's company. i must admit, it's genius.

ㅤㅤㅤ you smile cordially, accepting the man's hand. you were trying to remember his name since you turned to see him, but in the whole work conversation, you couldn't do it.

ㅤㅤㅤ —it's just a wonderful idea... oh, mr. riddle! —the man stops, looking over your shoulder—. i didn't know you had arrived. george told me you had been delayed by traffic a while ago.

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo riddle, your worst enemy and precious boyfriend. although that last thing was a secret that both of you kept under the rug due to your father's strict policy of no relationships between workers. yes, you were sure that if you talked about this with your father, he wouldn't have a problem, but keeping it a secret was a little more provocative than you would like to admit.

ㅤㅤㅤ when you turn to look at him, taking in his figure in that tight black suit, you have to hide the soft smile that forms on your lips with a long sip of champagne. on the contrary, mattheo doesn't seem to have any reaction to your outfit.

ㅤㅤㅤ —mr. whitestock. —a victorious smile draws on his lips—. how is everything here?

ㅤㅤㅤ now his lack of reaction makes sense. mattheo was watching you from the shadows long before passing by you to get the man's attention, knowing from the first moment that you didn't remember his name.

ㅤㅤㅤ —here with this beautiful young lady talking about her new project to boost mr. graham's international investments. what a lucky man! —the man says, making you smile angelically—. did you participate in that project?

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo denies.

ㅤㅤㅤ —unfortunately the beautiful lady here didn't consider me. wasn't that right?

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, trying to keep your composure under his gaze and ironic comment.

ㅤㅤㅤ —well, mr. riddle, i had better candidates in mind. —and we know that working together would end up giving us away instantly—. besides, weren't you busy with your five failed projects?

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo looks at you with a raised eyebrow, and although you can see the intention to respond, mr. whitestock steps forward saying—: oh! i see what's going on. a little rivalry gives more excitement to work, doesn't it?

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at your partner, who hides his smile under his hand.

ㅤㅤㅤ it's amazing to think that mattheo riddle, a man full of ambition and selfishness at work, had managed to make you fall in love effortlessly. it's likely that the greed of both of you had drawn blurred lines of desire that neither of you wanted to ignore. you liked him to be your biggest competition, but every time you were alone, he made sure to make you feel loved.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you don't have the slightest idea, mr. whitestock —you say, noticing how another investor calls the man from afar—. it seems that you are needed over there.

ㅤㅤㅤ the man turns, temporarily saying goodbye in case you sit together at dinner and walk away with his hand resting on the waist of his young companion. mattheo and you watch him walk away, side by side, feeling how his eyes fall on your tight figure in that beautiful white dress soon after.

ㅤㅤㅤ —don't look at me so much, mr. riddle, they'll think you like me.

ㅤㅤㅤ he lets out a soft laugh, taking another glass of champagne from the waitress who is passing in front of you with a full tray.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what can i do? you look beautiful in that dress —he whispers with a hoarse voice, clearing his throat and taking a sip—. really beautiful.

ㅤㅤㅤ you both remain silent when one of your colleagues passes in front of you, greeting him effusively.

ㅤㅤㅤ —beautiful enough to take me to dinner at a nice restaurant? or beautiful enough to break it when you have the chance?

ㅤㅤㅤ you move sensually to his right side, hoping that will draw his attention to the cut of the dress that shows one of your fine legs.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you know i'd do both in one night, love.

ㅤㅤㅤ a satisfied smile forms on your lips when you hear his nervous voice, but it fades as soon as you notice your father walking in your direction with a young investor at his side.

ㅤㅤㅤ you glance at mattheo beside you, circling his back to say softly—: matt, i'm not wearing any underwear today. just so you know.

ㅤㅤㅤ meeting your father halfway, you begin to listen to the ideas of the investor who accompanies him. In the middle of that you turn to see mattheo, who has not stopped looking at you even though he is trapped with some coworkers and squeezes his glass so hard that you feared it would explode in his hand. that is what you wanted.

ㅤㅤㅤ the rest of the night progresses normally. mattheo and you had to sit three tables away, listening to speeches, business conversations, and private jokes. when the formal part was over, the grown men began to dance on the dance floor. your father had insisted that you accompany him, but when you manage to escape with a glass of wine in hand, you begin to wander through the rooms full of art.

ㅤㅤㅤ minutes later you stop in front of the large frame that has a series of lines in red, black and yellow.

ㅤㅤㅤ —why so alone? —it's his voice, echoing in the almost empty place. you know he must have a vain smile for finding you without company, how could you not know?

ㅤㅤㅤ —thinking —you say, listening to his quiet steps approach you—. don't you think this painting is grotesque?

ㅤㅤㅤ he comes up behind you, hugging you and leaving a trail of kisses on your bare shoulders. they are calm, sonorous, and warm as always.

ㅤㅤㅤ —grotesque? —he questions, his voice and the smell of cologne playing with the little thread of sanity you have before his warmth—. it looks like a bunch of meaningless lines.

ㅤㅤㅤ you let out a laugh that is accompanied by the soft sound of mattheo's kisses. you settle into his arms, turning to see his calm eyes, roaming over your face as if he’s seeing it for the first time. his hands move down to your ass to press you against him.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do you know there are cameras in here? —you ask, kissing his mischievous smile softly—. as much as you want to fuck me, you can’t.

ㅤㅤㅤ —the bathrooms are always available.

ㅤㅤㅤ —with all those middle-aged men going to the bathroom every two minutes? not really my kind of sex.

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo moves in to capture your lips in a disgustingly lustful kiss. his tongue enters your mouth to play with yours instantly, while his hands squeeze your ass and rub you against his pelvis. your hands hug his neck, panting softly at the desperation of his lips. he was as perfect as ever, but you had to stop him before you couldn't take it anymore.

ㅤㅤㅤ —matt... —you say, gently hitting his shoulder—. mattheo, wait.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i promise i'll do it quickly. okay, love?

ㅤㅤㅤ you caress his face that doesn't waste seconds to disappear into your neck, tickling with the tips of his messy hair brushing your skin. you look at the camera of the place with a growing need that mattheo, with those wet kisses spreading on your neck, doesn't help to lower.

ㅤㅤㅤ —come with me —he says suddenly, taking your hand and leading you through the halls.

ㅤㅤㅤ you don't remember exactly the path he takes you, but mattheo seems to have complete knowledge of where to go. when you get to a place with less light, he stops you right against a thick marble pillar. he doesn't even let you ask and catches your lips in the middle of a deep growl.

ㅤㅤㅤ it doesn't take you long to get used to the movement of his mouth against yours, responding with the same intensity that envelops you like never before. you feel butterflies in your stomach that carry a series of tickles to the rest of your body. mattheo kisses your cheeks and licks your earlobe and neck so calmly that you can't help but laugh between your sighs.

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo takes the glass from your hands, drinking the remaining drink in it and leaving it on the floor.

ㅤㅤㅤ —let me check if you were lying —he says, putting his hand in the cut of the dress, reaching your wet pussy—. what a nasty girl. at a charity meeting, love?

ㅤㅤㅤ you laugh, being forced to turn your back and spread your legs.

ㅤㅤㅤ —don’t pretend your cock hasn’t hurt all dinner, matt —you say, moaning afterward at the slow massage he’s started on your clit—. i can feel it.

ㅤㅤㅤ you know he has a smile on his face by the way he kisses your bare back softly. besides, mattheo is a man who enjoys it when you start vocalizing what he does to you, and that’s exactly what happens when he caresses that sensitive spot.

ㅤㅤㅤ —too bad i can’t enjoy this for longer. —you can hear his pants falling down his legs and, shortly after, the tip of his member threatening your entrance—. but we have to hurry if you don’t want them to know what a slutty you are.

ㅤㅤㅤ a cry that echoes between the high ceilings escapes your lips when mattheo buries himself completely inside you. his hand stimulating your clit has stopped, helping you keep your composure at his large size filling every inch of you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —ready?

ㅤㅤㅤ you nod. mattheo watches the waves of your hair bounce against the top of your shoulders and spreads kisses down your empty back before he begins to move.

ㅤㅤㅤ at first he’s not soft or tender as if he’s afraid you’re going to break into pieces because he thrusts hard the same moment he feels your walls tighten around him. he was eager to hear you, to make you shiver and touch your entire warm body. mattheo felt so hot to feel your deepest being that even he was surprised.

ㅤㅤㅤ his mouth takes care of biting and kissing your shoulders softly, enjoying how the echo makes your sounds and his attack them from all directions.

ㅤㅤㅤ —is this what you wanted, right? —he asks, stopping abruptly and bringing his hand to your clit—. is this what you wanted to happen when you came without underwear?

ㅤㅤㅤ his fingers massage your erect area in circles, pushing themselves inside you lazily, grunting and sighing against your ears. you try to regain your speech as best you can, because you needed to hear the hard crash of his pelvis against your buttocks, you need him to bite your shoulders as if he were dying to mark you and for your juices to splash on his cock.

ㅤㅤㅤ —matt...

ㅤㅤㅤ —yes, love? come on, you can talk.

ㅤㅤㅤ —just, please, move faster —you whimper, lowering your hand to his to increase the movement of his fingers pressing your clit—. please. i need you to give me hard.

ㅤㅤㅤ a laugh, mixed with a pleasurable sound, is drowned out when they find your lips to do what you ask.

ㅤㅤㅤ his thrusts have become so violent that he forces you to rest your hands on the pillar to keep from hitting your head against it. you gasp and moan with an intensity that's impossible to control because mattheo knew exactly how to stimulate your body until you were brought to ruin.

ㅤㅤㅤ —m-more, matt. a little...

ㅤㅤㅤ from the first moment you hooked up at an office party, he discovered that you needed him to talk to you to release your orgasm. you loved how his raspy voice, full of lust, praises the way only you know how to take it.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you're doing well —he says, lifting your dress a little more to see his cock disappear between your thighs and pelvis crash against your ass—. s-shit. such a nice view and so little time.

ㅤㅤㅤ your hips seek the sensation of your desperate orgasm in a movement against mattheo, coupling with his thrusts to deepen his entrance as much as you can. the muffled screams that leave your throat are lightened by the soft laughter that hides the boy's moans.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so tight and perfect looking for more.

ㅤㅤㅤ it's the way he talks to you, how his hand squeezes your hip to pull you against him while the other massages your clit. it's the mix that all that does with the aroma of his cologne that makes you stop breathing.

ㅤㅤㅤ —come on, love, just cum for me.

ㅤㅤㅤ the shock of his breath hitting your ear is enough to feel a tingle throughout your body, contracting your muscles and stifling a scream. your orgasm is so powerful that it cuts off your breathing and weakens your legs, forcing mattheo to hold you in his last thrusts that fill your insides with his semen. god, how you loved the heat of his semen taking you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —are you okay? —you nod, mattheo stops holding you to get out and fix his clothes while you lean on the large marble post—. come here.

ㅤㅤㅤ he hugs you again, capturing your lips and caressing your back while his tender kiss imprisons you against the wall.

ㅤㅤㅤ —if a camera caught us, they will talk to my father —you whisper.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i will take care of that.

ㅤㅤㅤ that makes you laugh, separating yourself to look into his brown eyes delirious from his orgasm seconds ago. he is so cute that you could die in his arms and you would be the happiest person on the planet. mattheo caresses your cheeks gently.

ㅤㅤㅤ —go back first —he says, taking two steps back. you pick up the glass from the floor and kiss his cheek—. i love you.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, paralyzed by those words that had not been said until this very moment. his soft eyes with a hint of fear for having said it only make your heart beat much faster and a giant smile appear on your lips to hug him tightly.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i love you too, matt.

[cevansbrat0007]

Indecent Exposure Pt. I: Bye Bye, Daddy

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when your father decides to leave you in the care of his four best friends, your fake Uncles, while he's on away on tour for the summer. Read Part Two!

Warnings: Mature Themes, Bucky Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Unwanted Touching, Dad's Best Friend Themes, Older Men/Younger Women Themes, Brief Discussions of Voyeurism, Brief Mentions of Mouth Soaping, Brief Reference to Spanking and Discipline, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Please heed all warnings. Part of my Indecent Exposure Series. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

"But Daaaad.” You whine, drawing out the word as you follow your father into the kitchen. Shoulders slumped, you can’t seem to stop yourself from pouting. 

While you’d initially made peace with the prospect of being left alone for the practically the entire summer before you planned to start your freshman year at NYU, you positively balked at the idea being left in the care of a fucking babysitter. 

Four of them, actually.

“No buts, pumpkin.” Your father drops his carry-on bag next to the door, on top of his other luggage. “It’s not good for you to be stuck in this big old house all by your lonesome. You even said as much just the other week.”

“Yeah, well…” You trail off, pissed at the fact that you’d essentially brought this on yourself. “That was back when you weren’t even sure if you were going.”

At first, your old man had been rather skeptical at going on tour with his former bandmates. They’d had a couple hits back in the day, but nothing major. Even still, they’d somehow managed to amass a bit of a cult following. 

And so when he was offered the opportunity to open for a much larger classic rock band, he just couldn’t pass it up. And you hadn’t had the heart to make him either. Dreams like this seldom came true for anybody, let alone a mild-mannered pharmacist who was pushing fifty. 

“Why can’t you at least take me with you?”

He turns to you then, heaving a sigh before pulling you into his arms. "Life on the road is no place for my little girl. Which is why I’ve asked your Uncles to check-in on you.” He presses a gentle kiss on your mop of curly hair, giving you one last squeeze before releasing you.

“And this is where I’d like to point out that I’m 18 years old, which makes me a full-fledged adult.“ Wrapping your arms around your middle, you try to play it off like you don’t care about him leaving so soon after your birthday. 

But you do. While your birthday had only been last week, you two hadn't even had the chance to embark on your annual fishing trip yet.

“I know that. Of course I know that.” He’s quick to reassure you. “And as a newly minted adult I’m sure you’ll be on your own some nights – the ones when Bucky can’t stay and none of your other uncles are available.”

“Ugh! Can you please stop calling them that?”

Little did he know that you were mere seconds away from covering your ears and letting out a frustrated scream. 

“Well, that’s what they are. They may not be blood, but it still counts.” Your father just shakes his head. Apparently he hadn’t expected you to put up this much of a fight before his departure. “And while it might be true that it’s been a while since you’ve seen your uncles, each one has assured me that they would be more than delighted to keep an eye out for their favorite niece.”

“Dad, I don’t even know them like that! At least not anymore...”

You’re rewarded with yet another weary sigh. “Then it looks like you’ll have the whole summer to get reacquainted with them then, won’t you?” His hands go to grip your shoulders, all but forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Besides, Buck’ll be around. I’m sure he’ll help ease you into everything.”

It’s impossible to stop the derisive snort that escapes the back of your throat. 

“Sweetheart, my ride is going to be here any minute now…” He tells you, making it clear that neither one of you has time for the tantrum you seem so keen on throwing. “You’ve gotta know that I only want what’s best for–”

The two of you are interrupted by the sound of a vehicle pulling into your driveway. And while you don’t recognize it, you’re almost certain that it’s too sleek and expensive to belong to any Lyft driver. 

“Speak of the devil!” Your father suddenly exclaims before throwing open the door and rushing down the steps. Which is fine, except for the part when he decided to drag you along with him. “Bucky fuckin’ Barnes – just in the knick of time too!”

Well, there went Plan A. So much for locking up the house after your Dad was gone and refusing to answer the fucking door for anyone except the pizza delivery guy. 

However, in spite of your annoyance and frustration, you can’t help the tiny jolt of electricity that hums along your skin as you watch the dark haired man peel himself out of the driver’s seat so that he can properly greet you both.  

“Get a look at you, old man!” Bucky chuckles as he enthusiastically brings your Dad in for a hug, lightly thumping his back as he does. “Can’t believe somebody actually fucked up and told you you got to be a rockstar!”

Your uncle’s smile only broadens when he finally lays eyes on you. But it’s the way he’s looking at you that catches your attention – it’s not quite a leer – but his blatant perusal is enough to make you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. 

“I know!” Comes your Dad’s eager response. “That’s why I’m trying to get out of here before whoever signed off on this sobers up and realizes his mistake.” Both men are grinning from ear to ear when they finally take a step back. 

And that’s when all eyes turn to you. 

“And who’s this gorgeous young lady?” Bucky inquires, his pearly white teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he makes a quiet show of looking you over once again, this time allowing his gaze to linger just a fraction too long on your cutoff denim shorts. 

“Oh, come on now.” Good ol’ Dad reaches over to grab your wrist, pulling you even closer. Which is the absolute last thing you want. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your niece.” 

“Is that my sweet, little Clover?” Bucky pretends to rub exaggeratedly rub his eyes while evoking your childhood nickname. “I guess it is. Except now she’s all grown up.” Your Dad drops your wrist in time for the other man to grab your hand so that he can give you a little twirl. "Just turned 18, in fact."

“I heard. So pretty.” He hums, although the words are spoken just low enough so that only you can hear them. “You’ve got yourself a knockout for a daughter, Dale.” You resist the urge to squirm when you feel the roughened pad of his thumb lightly stroke along the ridges of your knuckles. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you kept a shotgun by the door.” 

While you suspect that his words are meant in jest, the only person that laughs is the man who raised you. 

“I actually keep it in the front closet. Which reminds me…” You father turns to you then, pinning you with a knowing look. “Now pumpkin, I know you're not super excited about the current arrangement and all that, but I’d appreciate it if you’d, uh, refrain from having any boys over at the house while I’m gone.” 

You swiftly open your mouth to protest, only to be surprised when Bucky beats you to the punch. 

“Roger that.” He grins down at you, the dimple in his left cheek on full display. “Your Daddy said no boys allowed, little Clover. Do we have your promise you’re gonna respect his wishes?”

Tugging your hand out his grasp, you turn your attention to your Dad, offering up a sugary sweet smile. “But what about Peter? You actually like him, remember? Besides, he’s pretty much my best friend.”

“Well…”

Because you couldn’t fathom the idea of a summer without him. And you just know he’s going to relent and make an exception. That is, until Bucky decides to go and open up his mouth. 

“You heard your Daddy, sweetheart.” He gently admonishes you, a hint of mockery in his tone. “Besides, I don’t think any of your uncles want to have to deal with strange boys wandering around the house.”

“Good man.” Your father agrees, clapping the other man on his shoulder. “And speaking of Andy, Ari, and Steve, this one here is a little nervous about seeing them again. I don’t know why. I mean it’s been a while since everyone’s gotten together…”

“Aww, bug.” He coos, wrapping a brawny arm around your much smaller waist. “Are you worried we don’t love you anymore?” You find yourself gritting your teeth to keep from elbowing him in the kidney. 

Why the hell did he have to make that sound so…suggestive? And how come your father didn't seem to notice? 

“No.” You grunt, hating the man for having the nerve to smell so damned good – like spiced vanilla and cedar. 

“Because we most certainly do. You know, Andy was just looking at your senior picture the other day.” His large, warm hand settles just above the curve of your hip. “He actually sent it to the group chat and none of us could believe just how much our little Clover had blossomed. Right under our noses.”

“A–awesome.” You mumble, wishing he would stop touching you so much. It did funny things to your belly, which you did not appreciate.

“I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it when he gets here.” 

Shock has your mouth falling open, briefly leaving you almost too stunned to make a sound. And to make matters worse, your father’s Lyft picks that very moment to pull up behind Bucky’s sports car. 

“What?” You eventually croak. Not that you receive much of a response, what with both men choosing to abandon you in favor of grabbing luggage and loading it into the driver’s trunk. 

“Alright, pumpkin.” Your Dad calls out once they’ve got everything secured. “I’ll call you from the road. I left instructions on the fridge and with Bucky. You need anything you call me, okay?” 

Seconds later you find yourself pulled into a bear hug. And, because you don’t know when you’ll see him again, you choose not to argue or struggle. You can only hug him back as if your life depends on it. 

“Be good.” He mumbles in your hair. “Listen to your uncles. It may not seem like it, but they know what's best. And you have my word that they care about you just as much as I do.” 

“Okay.” Is all you can muster as you fight back tears. “I–I love you.”

“You know it.” He holds you even tighter. “To the moon and back, plus the galaxy and beyond.” Smiling when he releases you, you watch him climb into the waiting car before giving him one last wave. 

And then he’s gone. You watch unmoving as the car backs out of the driveway and takes off down the road in the direction of the airport. It takes a moment for you to remember that you’re alone now.

Left to your own devices for the entire fucking summer. 

“Save those pretty tears, Clover.” You jump when you feel a hand press against the small of your back. “You’ve got us – me, Andy, Ari, and Steve – and won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Bucky whispers, his mouth hovering just above your ear.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” You growl, stomping towards the front door.

��Fair warning, sweetheart.” He calls after you, his voice tinged with laughter as he goes to follow you inside. “Your Uncle Steve doesn’t like that kind of language. And I’m afraid Uncle Andy isn’t the type to put up with that attitude either.”

“Then tell them they should keep their asses home!” You snap as you reach the stairs, taking them two at a time all the while silently praying that he doesn’t follow.

“All I’m saying is that I’d hate to see Stevie have to wash out that pretty little mouth out with soap.” He calls from the bottom of the stairs, no longer bothering to hide his laughter. 

The fucking pervy bastard was enjoying this!

You slam your door with a flourish, briefly reveling in the sound it makes as it shakes the entire frame. If Bucky, or any of your so-called uncles thought you were still that same, sweet little girl you used to then they were in for one hell of a rude awakening.

Fuck! You’re so busy fuming over your current situation that you have no idea what’s taking place quite literally beneath your feet. For tonight, you decide that ignorance is bliss. If you got hungry later you’d just have to find something on DoorDash.

You throw yourself on your bed with a huff, punching your pillow over and again until you feel some of the rage leave your body. This summer was going to fucking blow unless you found a way to stay busy away from the house. 

Meanwhile, Bucky has taken a seat at the bottom of the stairs. Pulling out his phone he opens the group chat he has with his buddies and proceeds to start typing. Call it intuition, but he had a feeling that he and his friends getting reacquainted with their precious little Clover was going to make for one hell of summer.

Oh yes, this was going to make for one hell of a summer indeed.

END

Unofficial Taglist:

@cjand10

[katsu28]

ooooo “Making the other person a Spotify playlist with songs that remind them of their relationship and growth” for Lando???

thank you for requesting! hope you like this one <3

lando norris x reader, 1.3k, request something from here!

There aren’t many times you can get Lando all to yourself. His job comes with many responsibilities, as does your own. You understand the time and hard work it takes to do what he does day after day, week after week, and you like to think the two of you have found a way to balance it all. Dinners together whenever you can, texting and calling between meetings; you even have a shared calendar on your phones to keep track of your hectic schedules. 

Racing takes precedence on most weekends, of course. Some of them you’re able to attend, but lately things have been getting busy at your workplace nowadays, which means you’ve been working weekends too. Weekdays are slim pickings as well, with all of the traveling and training and things you have to get done as well. 

With all that’s been happening lately, you haven’t been able to spend nearly enough time with Lando. Late evenings at work, long training days—everything seems like it’s been piling up until the only time you really get to spend with each other on days that he’s home is right before bed. And even then, it isn’t long before one of you inevitably falls asleep first. 

Which is why when you miraculously find yourself and Lando with a totally empty schedule today, free of any work related commitments for either of you, you’re over the moon. He suggests a day trip up the coast, just the two of you and the open road. Honestly, you don’t even care where you go, you just want to be with him. 

You’d think he’d be sick of driving given what he does for a living, but he just presses a kiss to your temple, saying that driving with you is something he’d never tire of. 

That’s how you end up here, sitting comfortably in the passenger seat of Lando’s Miura, fingers intertwined with his as he cruises down the coastline. Crystal clear water dotted with boats and even bluer skies on one side, beautiful scenery on the other, and the man you love sitting right next to you—what more could you ask for?

“Like what you see?” Lando’s teasing voice draws you out of your thoughts, and you refocus to see him still with his eyes on the winding highway ahead. But he’s grinning rather smugly, a grin that only grows bigger when you huff. “It’s alright, you can stare at me all you want. I know how sexy you think I am.” 

“That’s bold. Maybe I’m admiring the view.” 

“Yeah, and the view is called my carved-by-the-gods side profile.” 

“Someone’s a tad self absorbed. You’re voted top three hottest drivers on the grid one time and you start getting a big head, hm?” 

“I beat out Carlos, baby! Carlos fucking Sainz! You’ve seen the man, do you know how that makes me feel?” 

“Is there something I should be worried about, Lan? Are you going to leave me for Carlos?”

Lando snorts, aiming a brief but still effective skeptically arched brow at you. “Please, if I was gonna leave you for Carlos, I would’ve done it already.” 

“Oh, cheers. That’s reassuring.” 

“Happy to help.” 

“Can I play some music? I need to drown out the sound of your complete and utter betrayal.” You grumble, slouching in your seat with crossed arms. Lando laughs and nods, passing you his phone. He knows you’re just being fussy for the dramatics of it all.

You scroll through his Spotify playlists in search of something that looks interesting, but one in particular instantly catches your eye. Labeled “For my love” with an absurd amount of heart emojis after, you can’t help but feel like maybe, just perhaps this one might be for you. Or for Carlos, but you’re ninety percent sure it's you. 

Next to you, Lando inhales sharply through his teeth like he’s just remembered something, hand shooting out blindly. “Fuck, wait, hang on—” 

“Lando…” You say, only slightly teasing. All previous betrayal is instantly forgotten. You shift so his wiggling fingers can’t reach the phone, giggling a bit at the garbled noise that escapes from his mouth. He’s obviously figured out what you’ve just come across. “What’s this?” 

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” He sighs, cheeks already flushing pink. “It was meant to be a surprise.” 

“You made a playlist for me?” 

“Well, yeah. It’s sort of embarrassing.” He mumbles, suddenly sounding bashful.

“Oh come on, don’t get all shy on me now.” 

“Alright, fine! At first it was for me. Just songs I thought you’d like, and I’d listen to it all the times I was away and we couldn’t talk. Or if I was nervous before a race and started spiraling. And then…it just turned into songs that made me think about you. Made me think about us.” 

“There’s hundreds of songs on here, how did you even—when did you even start making this?” 

Lando swallows hard, knuckles flexing on the steering wheel.

“Honestly? The day we met. Call me a weirdo, but from the moment I saw you I knew you were it for me. Took both of us a while to get our shit together, but I never stopped believing it.” He says softly, hastening a glance over at you. He smiles and shrugs, reaching out to thread his fingers through yours once again. “And the songs…I dunno, they’re just my way of remembering how we got here. I meant to save it for our next big anniversary, but you’ve mucked it all up by being nosy, so now the cat’s out of the bag!” 

“You’re so fucking cute, babe,” You coo, leaning across the center console to press a smattering of kisses to the side of his heated face. “You made a whole playlist for me and listened to it when you missed me? That’s the cutest thing anyone’s ever done, you sap.” 

“Yeah, alright. You can shut up about it now,” He grumbles, but he still looks pleased. “Have a look through it. I think I’ve got some good ones on there.” 

The more you scroll through the list of songs, the more you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest. It mixes your music taste and his, and in a way, it feels very representative of not only who you are as individuals, but who you are with each other.  

It reads like a letter to you, to your relationship. To who you were back then and who you are now, who you’ve grown into together. 

There’s no doubt that in the years you’ve known each other, you’ve both changed. You’ve had good times and not so good ones too, but one thing that’s always remained is each other. From friendship, to teetering on something a little more, to finally finding love with one another, Lando has been the most unwavering constant in your life. You think that deep down, it was something you already knew, even from the first time you’d met him. 

“I’m gonna fucking cry, Lando,” You whine, emotion seeping into your words.

“Why? Is it bad? Is it too much?” He looks worried, but he can’t exactly take his eyes off the road to see why you’ve had the reaction you did.

“No, no. It’s perfect.” 

His shoulders sag in relief, and the smile returns to his face. “Oh. You like it?” 

“I love it.” You lift your joined hands, pressing a kiss to his knuckles that has him positively beaming with adoration. It goes without saying, but you truly don’t think you could love a person any more than you love Lando. You don’t want to, because he’s it for you. 

“You know what else?” He hums his piqued interest, likely expecting more praise. “Carlos can suck it. I got a playlist, what did he get? Absolutely nothing!” 

“For fuck’s sake, I was kidding!” 

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[thechaoticcherub]

Thoroughfare

Thoroughfare Chapter One The Ring of Fire

Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x Reader

Fic Summary: Cross country road trip turns into way more, opening up questions about who you're traveling with, what his intentions are and if he'll actually let you go.

Chapter Summary: The adventure begins when you meet Joel Miller on the side of a dusty Texas Road and hop in his truck to head off to Dallas.

Rated: Explicit-This chapter has no sex

Warnings: AU-No Cordyceps, Big Age Gap, Reader is not described, no use of y/n, Reader is briefly referred to as a fake name, DARK Joel, Eventually: daddy kink, rough sex, violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping elements, murder, sexual assault, dom/sub dynamics. More Warnings will come with each chapter.

Notes: Here's the first chapter of Thoroughfare! My first Joel Miller chaptered fic! I'm really excited and enjoying writing this. Thanks to my AMAZING best friend for beta reading and editing.

If you'd like to be added to the tag list please let me know!

If there was one thing Joel Miller was going to bring from Austin, Texas to Jackson, Wyoming, it would have been you. Unfortunately, you were as unaware of him as it was possible for a young girl to be of an old man who obsessed over the very ground you walked on. So, Joel made plans. When his brother had disappeared Joel could have guessed it had been about a girl, he hadn’t guessed that girl would be pregnant, but it didn’t necessarily surprise him. At first Joel had been pissed off. At first, he was frustrated that Tommy would just up and leave him, decide to go without any real warning, leaving Joel to clean up their messes, yet again. Eventually,  Joel saw it as an opportunity to live out the rest of his life in relative peace in a  beautiful place. But you stuck in the back of Joel’s head, the only thing tying him to Texas at all. Joel didn’t think he had the strength to cut those ties. Joel had spent years and years thinking about you, obsessing over if you were happy, if you were safe. As you got older, he thought about if you had someone special. You, of course, wouldn’t have been able to tell him apart from fuckin’ Adam. That was, if you even spared him a singular glance. He could probably draw a map of the lights shining in your eyes at any given time if he was instructed to.

Maybe this singular thing is what made Joel Miller truly a bad man. An obsession with a girl easily young enough to be his own daughter. But no, Joel knew better. There were a bunch of things that made him a bad man, and if anything, you were his redeeming quality. Even if you didn’t know it. So he felt locked in to Texas for the rest of his life; but bloodlines were strong, and he wanted to find a way to Tommy, to something resembling peace. He spent the last few days organizing a trip he wasn’t even sure was happening, finalizing things in Austin and considering his options with you. All more illegal than the last one. That didn’t phase him, but your happiness did. 

Luck finally seemed to be on Joel’s side one afternoon as he was driving along the highway a ways outside of Austin. The stretch of road was a weird mix of country and suburbia. The knowledge of your location sat like a pit in his stomach. He knew this was just on the other side of your typical stomping grounds. And as he rounded a curve in the road, there you were. Backpack slung over your pretty shoulders,  sun shining off the top of your head. When you heard his truck, your head perked in that direction, you turned and he could see you, seeming to glimmer in the shine from the sun. Your hand stuck out towards the road, your thumb appearing like some kind of beacon in a dark night. Ships passing would use it as a lighthouse to guide themselves home, and that’s just what Joel did, pulling his truck off onto the dirty side of the road just ahead of you. 

You jogged over to the truck, full of life and vibrancy. Joel rolled the passenger window down and looked over at you standing there. Apprehension settled over your face as you looked into the car at the middle aged man sitting in the driver’s seat. At least you had good enough sense to be concerned. 

“Hitchhiking ain’t smart, darlin’” He chastised, his eyes flicking over your pretty face as you seemed to examine both him and the interior of the car. 

“I know,” You said, your voice immediately sounding somewhat defensive. “But a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.” You put your hand up on your forehead to shade your eyes from the sun, squinting into the truck at him. 

Joel nodded, trying to seem open and kind, a friendly older guy who could take you somewhere, drop you off and let you go on your way. “How old are ya?” he asked. 

“Twenty-two,” You said instantly. Liar. Joel thought, you had just turned eighteen. That was the only reason you were runnin’ from something, because no cop would follow you anymore. He raised his eyebrows like he wasn’t sure if he believed you but you held onto your lie and Joel decided not to fight you on it. 

“Where ya headed, missy?” He asked. Maybe he was acting too familiar. Maybe this would somehow give away something to you but the term of endearment just slipped out. He was too used to the way he referred to you in his head. You sucked on your lower lip, looked around the deserted highway, as if weighing your options. 

“Dallas,” You said, “You headed that far?” You cocked your hip out at the same time as you tilted your head. 

“I was goin’ to Forth Worth so it ain’t hard to get you to Dallas first,” He said, “Hop in, kid.” He reached down and pressed the button to unlock the doors of the truck. You hesitated. Joel’s heart thrummed in his throat. There was a part of him that hoped you’d say never mind, that you’d back away and listen to whatever it was that your gut was telling you to do. Maybe you weren’t that smart, or you felt desperate enough to ignore your gut. 

He didn’t really want you to say no and run from him. He was practically purring in approval as you opened up the truck door and climbed in. Instead of running from him, you were running headfirst into the darkest part of the fairytale. Without a second glance you slammed the door and started to pull your seatbelt on. 

“Thanks so much!” You said happily, maybe more comfortable now that you had just made the decision, or maybe just that naive. 

“No problem, name’s Joel,” He said, reaching his hand out after putting the truck into gear, keeping his eyes on the road. You took his head and Joel’s heart was light as feathers, tickling his chest and throat as he felt your fingers for the first time in so long. “What’s your name?” he asked, prompting you to speak. You were quiet and Joel momentarily wondered if you were contemplating giving him a fake name. What would be the point though? You were already in his car, and starting to fly down the highway. Even as he thought that, you were speaking,

“Sarah,” The lightness in Joel’s heart vanished. It sank like lead, splashing into his stomach and his face dropped. Lies. Liar. Liar. Fuckin’ liar.

Sarah had been the first name that came to your mind when he had asked you. Of course you weren’t about to give a perfect stranger your real name, you were already being an idiot for  getting into Joel’s car. The lie tasted bad in your mouth, probably because you knew a fake name was going to be harder to keep up with than a fake age. You had been lying about your age since you were sixteen so at eighteen it felt easy to say twenty-two and keep up with it, even if it was unbelievable to most. 

“So what got ya out here hitchhikin’ on 190 all by your lonesome?” Joel asked. There was a twist of his lips, and a slight furrow of his brow, back to a placid lake of nothingness that made you more uneasy than the friendly expression from before. You weren’t sure how much you should lie, lies got tangled and unraveled and you weren’t keen on him discovering you were lying while he drove you over 2 hours to Dallas. 

“I live with my aunt and it’s been…bad for a while, we got in a fight last night, so I decided it was time to go, and…I don’t have my own car so here we are.” It was the truth, easier to give the truth on something like that than add to the list of things you had to remember. 

“Hmm,” he said, acknowledging your predicament but not immediately offering any other thoughts. “Tough,” he said. Joel had one hand on the top of the steering wheel, keeping a steady 72 miles per hour while he spoke. You were picking at the cuticle of your thumb, not paying too much attention to him but remaining quietly polite. “She not okay with you havin’ freedom or somethin?” Your eyes snapped up at the question, looking over at him to find his eyes on you, not the deserted road. It was so specific. How did he know exactly what that fucking fight had been about? He looked at you a touch too long for someone driving but then glanced back at the road and you let go of the paranoid thoughts you were having. He must have just made an assumption, based on the fact that you were clearly lying about your age, and the fact that you fought with her. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right though, 

“Kind of,” You answered, “We just don’t get along.” You  looked out your window and hoped he would let it go. It was an understatement, your Aunt Tilda seemed to love yelling and goading you into arguments so she would have an excuse to punish you. You had tried running away when you were younger, but the police had always managed to bring you back, much to your dismay.  Now that you were eighteen, there was nothing keeping you there except access to a means of transport, but the argument the night before had made it abundantly clear that you couldn’t let that stop you anymore. 

“She put her hands on ya?” Joel asked suddenly. It seemed so nosy to you. Irritation flared in your chest, and you unglued your eyes from the blurry shapes of the fields passing by outside your window to look over at him. He must have picked up on your irritation, because he shrugged, “Ya just seem desperate to get outta there, ya know? Not tryin’ to pry, Sarah. Just an observation from a friendly stranger.” He shot you a smile that eased your nerves, and you shook yourself internally. He was just trying to be nice. He  had picked you up off the side of the road and who knew, maybe he had a daughter…or granddaughter… your age who he cared about and so he was just…feeling bad about you. 

“Couple times, but maybe I deserved it, you know?” You said,  leaning back in the truck seat and rolling your head around to look over at him. You watched a muscle jump in his jaw. He was good looking for an older guy, that was easy to see. He had a strong jaw, and a nose like those Greek…or was it Roman? Well, either way, it was straight from those statues you had seen in your textbooks. His skin was tanned and looked worn from working in the sun, and if you had to guess, you would have thought maybe he worked outdoors. Maybe he was a cowboy or had been a ranch hand or something. Your imagination was running away from you now, having always had a fascination with cowboys and the Wild West. Texas had plenty of cowboys.  Not in Austin, though. The culture was around sure,, but it had never seemed like what you imagined the wild west would be. Like out in Montana or Wyoming. Mountains and rolling hills, fields and landscape that stretched out in front of you. Maybe it was just Austin that didn’t feel like the wild west you had always imagined, maybe if you had lived in west Texas you wouldn’t have dreamt of running away so much. 

“Did ya hit her?” Joel asked, breaking you from your thoughts. You could almost laugh at that. The idea that you would have ever tried to hit her back, or fight back at all, was ridiculous. 

“No.” You said. 

“Well then, you didn’t deserve it,” He glanced over to you, and you had to hide your smile. It felt validating. It felt…right to be told you didn’t deserve it. Joel must have caught your smile because he smiled too, and it seemed to change his whole face from stern to easy going. 

“So, Sarah,” he said, and the name sounded wrong when he said it. It was like he just knew it wasn’t your real name and maybe that was just a paranoid thought. “What are you going to do in Dallas?” He asked. You weren’t sure how much you wanted to tell him about your plans but what was the truth really going to provide for him? It might even be better for him to know that someone would know you were coming. 

“I’ve been talkin’ to this guy who lives up there and… I don’t know, we have plans to meet. But from there, I don’t really know.” You had a little money and maybe you could find yourself a job. You watched as Joel reached out and twisted the dial on the radio to tune to a different station, one playing old country songs. At least he wasn’t playing talk radio or some right wing garbage that would make you feel even more unsafe. Country like this always felt like childhood, dreaming of cattle drives and cold mountain mornings, cowgirl boots, and rodeos. Things you never really experienced but you watched, filled with jealousy,  while other people did. Joel raised his eyebrows as you spoke of a boy and that muscle in his jaw clenched again. It was a tiny, possessive movement that seemed completely at odds with your level of familiarity with him, which was zero. 

“Relyin’ on a boy?” he asked. You shrugged. 

“He’s nice.” You said dismissively, “What’re you doin’ in Fort Worth?” You wanted to change the subject away from your plans and whether or not relying on a boy was a good idea. 

“Got some business to finish up there, but I ain’t stayin’ for long.” He told you, one hand on the top of the steering wheel, the other elbow resting on the door. “I’m actually headin’ to meet up with my brother in Wyoming,” He said.

“What are you doing there?” You asked, trying to hide your internal excitement at the idea of what you had always deemed as The Wild West. You wondered if he caught onto the barely concealed excitement in your words

 “We work in construction together and he’s found good work up in Jackson, so we’re leavin’ Texas for a while,” He explained. “Headin’ further west,” He nodded. You had been right, he was the type of man to work outside. Blue collar. But not a cowboy, even though there was something about him that screamed cowboy to you. 

“Jackson? Like Jackson Hole?” You asked. 

“Yeah round there, why? You ski?” He looked over at you as if he didn’t believe that for a second. 

“No,” You laughed, “I just like the mountains, always wanted to live in the ‘wild west’” You put air quotes around it, “I grew up wanting to ride horses, go to rodeos and stuff,” You shrugged. 

“Not enough of that stuff in Texas for ya?” Joel joked. 

“Not in my world,” You mumbled, thinking of the double wide you grew up in  the weird half country, half suburban wasteland of the outskirts of Austin, Texas. Nothing scenic about that. Joel nodded and you fell into relative silence. The country music on the radio was enough for both of you. It was easier to let the conversation die and the silence was surprisingly comfortable.You watched the scenery and thought of Wyoming, the mountains, and how you’d love to see a rodeo. A real rodeo. Not just one on the television. Not just a stunt show at the county fair. You could meet real cowboys, not just stupid teenage boys who wore fancy hats and pretended. You must have nodded off because when Joel spoke again you practically jumped out of your seat,

“You hungry?” He was looking at you and the clock was a half hour later than when you last looked. “Whoa there, darlin’” He laughed as you jumped. “You were snoozin’ good there, weren’t ya?” he asked. You smiled nervously. 

“I guess so,��� You looked out the window, checking to make sure you were still heading in he right direction. 

“You hungry?” he asked again. “There’s a diner up here, easy to stop and have a bite quick.” 

“Uhhh,” You didn’t really want to stop even though you were hungry and had to pee, you glanced over at him, unsure. 

“I’m buyin’ if that helps you decide,” he cracked another smile and you felt your resolve fail a little. 

“Okay,” you agreed. “Yeah, I could eat.” 

A few minutes later Joel had pulled off at an old fashioned roadside diner and parked. You briefly contemplated bringing your whole backpack with you into the diner, and maybe you should have, but you chose to leave it sitting on your seat and followed him inside.

While Joel got you a table, you went straight for the bathroom, peeing, then washing your hands and staring at yourself in the mirror. You looked tired. Maybe a little worried. There was no real reason to believe that the friendly older man who had picked you up was going to hurt you,  he had been nothing but appropriate. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off. No. You were so paranoid it was ridiculous. When you  walked out of the bathroom, Joel was at a booth not far from the front door you walked over and sank down across from him. It was odd to be sitting across from him without the distraction of driving. He was looking at the menu, 

“Get whatever ya want,” he said. 

“Are you sure?” You asked. “I-I have some money,” you felt like you needed to offer now that you were here even though you didn’t want to spend the precious little money you had on a burger.  

“Yeah, I’m sure,” He half laughed, “I’m not going to have you spend your money on food you didn’t ask for,” He explained, “You’re goin’ to need that money,” it felt so genuine and honest that you relaxed even more. You looked down at your menu, searching through it for what you wanted. If he was really saying get whatever you wanted, then you were getting a milkshake with your burger. May as well fill up now so you didn’t need to eat tonight and could spend your money on a motel room. 

“Thank you,” you said, looking up at him. “For picking me up, for being so nice…and you know, for not murdering me,” You joked. Joel let out a laugh as you said that, 

“Were you worried you were goin’ to get murdered?” Joel’s eyes sparkled, like he was enjoying the joke and again, all his features seemed to soften. It made him look younger. 

“I mean, you said yourself that hitchhiking isn’t smart,” You reminded him. The waitress came over then and took your orders, you got a chocolate milkshake, a cherry coke, and a cheeseburger with fries. Joel got a sweet tea and a bacon burger with fries. For some reason the sweet tea surprised you. You hadn’t known what you expected from him, but maybe not sweet tea. 

“I spose I did,” Joel answered you when the waitress left, “It is good that I picked you up and not some creep or somethin’” He said, there was a glint in his eyes again, a sparkle of mischief but you knew it was just from the joke about not getting murdered. You nodded,

“Yeah I lucked out with a kindly old man,” You teased, feeling comfortable enough now to joke.

“Careful,” he said, “We ain’t in Dallas yet,” his tone was playful. He fiddled with the watch on his wrist. You noticed it wasn’t ticking in fact, it was completely broken. You almost asked him, but something in you told you not to pry. 

“I’m kidding, you don’t even really seem like an old man,” You said, wanting to make sure he didn’t actually get angry at you. Joel snorted, 

“Thanks for butterin’ me up, darlin’” he said. “So, what got ya interested in the Wild West?” he asked, his eyebrows raising around the words ‘wild west’ as if it was some mysterious thing. You thought for a minute, 

“Grew up watching westerns, and I went to a school where all my friends could afford to take riding lessons and I couldn’t, so it was something out of my reach.” You thought more of all those nights lying on your mattress on the ground of your bedroom, looking at the moon through the back window of the double wide and dreaming of fabled cowboys, their bravery and heroism. “My parents died when I was real young, I guess I always kind of dreamed of a cowboy coming to rescue me…someone whisking me away It was silly but it stuck.” I said. “I never liked Disney movies when I was little because a prince seemed so boring,” You were picking at your thumbnail while you let all this spill out to the man you barely knew across the booth from you. “I wanted to get rescued, taken away, and taken on adventures,” You explained. “And to me,  the best adventures happened on horseback in the mountains with danger and beans out of a can I guess,” You laughed and Joel did too. You hadn’t been looking at him while you spoke, you had been staring at your nails, picking the cuticle apart, thinking about those things that happened to you that you couldn’t really remember. Now your eyes flicked up to meet his, he was watching you talk. You were taken aback by how carefully he was listening to your childish nonsense. 

“Did your Aunt care about your cowboy dreams?” He asked. You snorted with laughter, 

“I don’t know. It never seemed like it,” You said. “I asked to go to the rodeo for my birthday every year and it never happened but we didn’t have much money,” You shrugged. 

“That’s too bad, growing up in Texas and never goin’ to a rodeo should be a crime,” Joel said You were interrupted by the waitress bringing over your drinks. You focused on sipping your cherry coke, relishing the tingly bubbles and sweetness. It was a relief and distraction from the topic. While you held your cold glass and sipped your Coke you let your eyes wander around the diner. It wasn’t busy, but  it wasn’t empty, either . Clean formica tables with red padded chairs and booths were organized around a counter with stools. You could hear a quiet, tinny version of Johnny Cash singing Ring of Fire from speakers older than you. 

I fell into a burning ring of fire; I went down, down, down; And the flames went higher; And it burns, burns, burns.

“You wanna go out west?” Joel asked, stirring the ice in his sweet tea with his straw. The question sounded too casual to you, it didn’t feel like a throwaway question, it felt like there was more to it that you weren’t totally picking up on.. You were confused. What was he asking? If you wanted to go someday? Or right now? For some reason the question made your heart skip a beat and a strange shiver run up and down your spine. 

The taste of love is sweet; When hearts like ours meet; I fell for you like a child; Oh, but the fire went wild.

“I mean, yeah, someday, I’d like to get out there-”

“No, I mean now, darlin’” Joel said. His dark eyes were studying your face, watching for every microexpression, you could feel that. A warning sign had been built up like a barricade inside of you, stopping the excited flames of your need for adventure from burning you down. Was he offering to bring you to Wyoming with him? Was that weird? No. Not from him. He was just a nice older guy and you were completely capable of handling yourself and running if you absolutely needed to. Getting out of Texas sounded so nice. 

“Like…with you?” You asked, wanting to confirm. Joel chuckled. The waitress came back with your food and set it down in front of you. Your hunger had abated in the wake of the excitement of possibilities. Joel picked up a french fry, 

“Yeah, with me.” He said. “I promise I won’t murder you,” he teased and for some reason the joke eased any doubt you had, and stoked the fire of desire for The Wild West and adventure. The fire inside you immolated the warning sign and you found yourself nodding. 

And it burns, burns, burns; The ring of fire; The ring of fire; The ring of fire.

“I…I mean, if thats okay with you? I would…yeah that would be so great!” You said breathlessly, letting go of any hesitation, trusting that this is what you were meant to do. You were getting everything you had dreamed of: a way out of Texas. Joel looked like a cowboy, he could be that cowboy that came along to take you away from monotony and into adventure. You finally felt like you could start eating so you picked up a french fry and took a bite. 

“I’d much rather you be with me then some boy from the internet who doesn’t know you or care a lick about you,” He said. Briefly you wondered how meeting a boy from the internet was worse than a man from the side of the road, but it was clear that he just cared for whatever reason. “You gotta do one thing for me though,” He said and your heart sank into you gut, your hands stopped with your burger halfway to your mouth. Here was the thing that was going to send you running. You tilted your head to the side, waiting for the shoe to drop. “You gotta tell me the truth.” He said, his voice had gone serious and his face had shifted from that open friendly one to something sterner again. You bought some time by taking a bite of your burger.

“What?” You asked, your mouth full. Maybe you were playing dumb, maybe you had forgotten about your lies but you wanted clarification before you continued on. 

“Your age. Your name.” He said. “What are they? Be truthful now. Seein’ as we’re goin’ to be travelin’ together, I think I’m owed the truth.” How had he known you were lying about your name? Your age…well, that was obvious. You weren’t twenty-two, that was clear to see. But your name…how had he known that Sarah wasn’t your real name? Were you just that bad of a liar? Maybe. 

“I’m eighteen,” You said, looking down at your plate as you put your burger back down. Joel was chewing his own food, nodding. 

“Makes more sense,” he said. “Twenty-two,” he scoffed, and it made you smile a little. Looking back, you realized it had been a little ridiculous to think someone would believe that. “You sure you’re actually eighteen?” He asked. You looked into his eyes and nodded. He seemed to accept that and took another bite of his burger, “And your name?” He asked. You shifted uncomfortably,

“How’d you know Sarah wasn’t my real name?” You asked. 

“You ain’t a good liar, kid.” He said. “Not to me,” He picked  up a couple fries and ate them.. You reached out for the milkshake you had forgotten about and picked it up, sipping it. “Now, out with it. What‘s your real name?” He asked. You felt young when he spoke to you like this, like an ashamed child caught in lies. You stared down at your food and gave him your name. 

“Nice to properly meet ya, kid.” He said. “Now let’s just agree to be honest with each other.” He said. You didn’t look up, still holding your milkshake and examining your burger and fries. “You ain’t in trouble,” he laughed and finally you glanced up. 

“Okay,” You said. 

“Okay.” He agreed. 

Joel still had business to finish in Fort Worth so you kept on your way north. You planned to stay the night in Fort Worth before heading west from there. Joel spent the last hour of the car ride quizzing you on what the different old country songs were and who was singing them. 

“Damn, for a cowboy lovin’ girl you ain’t got an ear for proper cowboy music.” He had said after your third song wrong. 

“It’s cause I’m not 95 years old, Joel.” You had snipped at him, now aware his age was a sore spot for him and intending on using it whenever you needed to. He shot you a playful look and you could feel any semblance of guard you had up still, slipping. He reminded you of an old boyfriend of your aunt’s,  who had always been nice to you and drove you around in the back of his pickup just for fun. He had you look up a motel with availability in Fort Worth and asked for prices on rooms, you listed off different chain places with decent ratings and a room for less than $100 a night until finally you said, 

“There’s the Sundance Motel, you know like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?” 

“How much for a night?”

“$95,” You answered.

“To the Sundance Motel! Seems like fate,” He said, eyes turning back to the road. The sun was starting to set now, blazing in the west, reminding you that that was the direction you were officially headed in. It made your heart skip every time you considered it. 

The Sundance Motel was a typical two story motel a short drive off of the highway,  the pink doors for each room opened onto a view of the dirty looking pool. It was kitschy, but the big sign cried of a vacancy and had a blazing sun as the logo.  There was an iHop next to it, and across the street was a dingy bar attached to a music shop. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked around the place while Joel went into the front office to get a room. Maybe this wasn’t sleeping under the stars in the mountains yet, but it was still different. When Joel came back he was smoking a cigarette, he got into the truck and drove around to the side parking lot. 

“Are you sure I can’t give you some money for the room?” You asked quietly once he parked and opened up his door. 

“Don’t think about it, darlin’” he said, “You need to save your money for when you get to Wyoming,” he explained again. You sucked on your lower lip and slipped out of the cab of the truck. You grabbed your backpack and followed him up the stairs to the second floor and around to a room that looked out over the center of the pool. Joel opened the door and pushed it open, flicking his cigarette away before he walked in. 

It was surprisingly clean. Two queen beds, a television on a dresser, and then a door directly to the right that must have held the bathroom. You felt distinctly awkward as you walked into the room, holding your backpack and looking around. Joel had a bag too and you eyed it briefly as he set it down on the  dresser. “You can pick whatever bed ya want,” he said. You decided on the bed closer to the door and set your backpack on it. You sank down on the bed and watched him take off his watch, carefully setting it on the bedside table and picking up the remote for the television. He fiddled with it for a second before looking over at you, 

“I know this is uncomfortable,” he said quietly. “We don’t really know each other, you’re a young lady,” He gestured to you and then back at himself, “And I’m a grumpy old fucker,” he half laughed and you nervously smiled, wondering where  he was going with this. “But we’re goin’ to be thrown together a lot during this trip an’ maybe it’s best if we just…think of each other like an estranged father and daughter, gettin’ to know each other again.” He said. 

You shifted on the bed, unsure of what to say, the reason it was awkward was because how could either of you trust each other yet? You couldn’t force trust, but maybe you could fake it until you did. Just to make this more comfortable. “Mhm,” you said.

“You ain’t got anythin’ to worry about, darlin’” He continued, “I’m not goin’ to let any harm come to you while we’re travelin’ together, alright? Just, trust me on that.” He seemed so genuine and so serious. As if there was something that would have definitely hurt you if he hadn’t been there with you. You nodded. 

“And I’m not trying to…use you or rob you or anything,” You said, your voice still sounding a little nervous. You fiddled with the hem of the dress you wore and you looked over at him where he was sitting on his bed. Joel chuckled,

“You’d sure be disappointed if you tried,” he said. You smiled and he flipped the television on. He browsed the channels while you opened your backpack and took out your phone charger, plugging it in and working on rearranging the stuff in your backpack. 

“Hey look at that, our friend Butch Cassidy is about to rob the train,” Joel said, drawing your attention to the television where Paul Newman and Robert Redford were forcing the engineer to stop the train. You couldn’t miss the twist of fate that was the classic western movie, one that shared a name with the motel you were currently in, was playing on TCM just as you got settled into your room. It felt like a good omen. Plus, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid was one of your favorites, so you settled into watch while playing a stupid game on your phone. About a half hour into the movie he stood up, 

“I gotta run a quick errand,” He said, tucking his phone into his pocket. “A problem on the job site I’m finishing up with here,” he explained. He put a key to the hotel room down on the bedside table and pocketed the other one. “I might be a little late…so you can shower and fall asleep, whatever you need, and I wont be buggin’ you for a while.”

You were confused but you nodded, “Okay, I’ll be here,” You said.

 He got his car keys but left his bag and watch, and left you there in the room. 

It was a relief to be alone for a while. It gave you a moment to think without the pressure of his presence. If you had really wanted to, you could have gotten an Uber and been picked up and gone before he came back. You wondered if maybe he went on this errand specifically so you had that opportunity. Maybe he thought that if he showed you he wasn’t trying to stop you from leaving, you’d feel more comfortable, and to be honest, it was working. It felt good to know he didn’t care if you just up and left him. You weren’t going to but having the option felt…right. You used his absence to shower, put on the one pair of pajamas you packed, and crawl into bed. You were exhausted. You watched Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid as closely as you could, trying to turn your brain off and let the exhaustion pull you into the blackness of sleep. You weren’t sure when your thoughts stopped making sense and turned into dreams, but you must have fallen asleep for quite a while because when you opened your eyes next it was to the sound of the door closing. Joel. For some reason you didn’t want him to know he had woken you open so you stayed still and kept your eyes closed. 

The room was very dark, the television must have had a timer because it had turned off on its own. When you cracked one eye open to look at the clock on the bedside table, it read 2:49 AM. You shut your eyes again as you heard Joel tiptoeing across the floor. When he passed the beds you cracked your eyes, just enough to see his outline but not enough for him to be able to tell you were awake. You kept your breath steady as he paused by the bathroom door and looked at you, making sure you were asleep and then he turned to the bathroom and pushed it open, bathing him in the light you had left on. Your heart froze and a chill settled over your whole body as you realized what you were seeing.

Joel. The handsome, old, cowboy like man who had driven you for over two hours today had blood all over his t-shirt and splattered onto his neck. As he removed the flannel shirt from overtop of the t-shirt, you saw his forearms were also smattered with the stuff. His hands were oddly clean. Your throat felt tight and you felt rooted to the place. Should you run right now? No. You wouldn’t get far and he would know you saw him covered in blood. Was it blood? Could it be paint? You were so scared of him noticing you were awake you couldn’t even inch closer to the edge of the bed. You were fooling yourself if you thought it was paint. Paint didn’t look like that. Joel turned the sink tap on and you heard him start to quietly hum, 

Baa baa ba ba ba ba ba ba da baaaa

Ba ba ba ba ba baa da baaaa

You couldn’t really make out what he was humming, everything in you was trying to reconcile what you were seeing with what you knew of him. You wished you had stayed asleep. You wished you hadn’t seen this. You wished you had never met Joel. Maybe without him you’d be dead in a ditch right now but maybe you’d end up dead in a ditch with him too. Joel tugged off the bloody t-shirt and with a jolt you realized what he was humming because he very quietly put words to the tune,

Love is a burning thing; And it makes a fiery ring; Bound by wild desire; I fell into a ring of fire

I fell into a burning ring of fire; I went down, down, down; And the flames went higher

And it burns, burns, burns…

The ring of fire…

The ring of fire…

[pedrosman]

It’s so good to see a Pedro Pascal X Male Reader writer. Do you do RPF? (If not I’d love to see some Reed Richards) especially a Professor X Student scenario

A late night with Pedro Pascal.

pairing: Pedro Pascal x male reader (plus size)

summary: it's Pedro's final night in Paris. Unusually, as the night draws closer to the next day, he falls oddly quiet, as if he has something he needs to get off his chest.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, Pedro Pascal RPF (real person fiction), unprotected sex, rub reader, bot! reader, first person, p in a, kissing, swearing, anal, fingering, choking, analingus, cockwarming, smoking, cigarettes, creampie

word count: ~4900

authors note: requests are always open! also pls give feedback still new to writing. if you don't like the concept or idea of writing about a real person I promise I don't have a parasocial obsession with Pedro Pascal.

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The night air was infused with the cigarette smoke billowing from my lips. It whispered around my face, curtaining my view of Paris below. The city was oddly quiet from the balcony, dulled by the thin layer of fog stretching over the roads, warping the lights into an impressionist painting. There was a stillness in the air, and I watched as the cigarette smoke curled and bathed in the night. Illuminated by the warm lamp beside me, its tendrils stretched across the balcony, out into the city. As I inhaled, I revelled in the dull feeling, my senses dwarfed, replaced by the buzz. I smiled into it, enjoying the peace it brought. I watched the smoke’s playful character, entranced by its slow waltz in chorus with the noises of the city.

As I leaned against the bannister, I felt the presence of Pedro moving up behind me, resting beside me on the balcony, back towards the cityscape. His face was turned to me, softened by the dim light. Wordlessly, I passed him the cigarette, with a small “thanks” in return. He has just finished his shoot here, a small editorial. His trip to Paris was short, but I had managed to steal his last night to myself: I had forced him to peruse local bars and cafes alongside me, sipping wine and cocktails, smoking cigarette after cigarette whilst we watched the people flurry past us. We reminisced about how we met, only a few months ago. I was sitting alone outside some random cafe, when he had come up to me, asking me for a light. That day, I remember we spoke for hours. Back then, it felt like Pedro had all the time he could want, but now, we had to fit our meetings into the late night just to be able to see each other’s faces once in a while. Although his trips to Paris were sparse, he had rented out a small apartment for himself, whenever he came down from LA. It was not luxury, but it was comfortable, doused with lamps and artworks (my touch), and had enough room for a small gathering, but usually, it was empty, reserved for just the two of us. It was the embodiment of himself, a fragment of calm in a world of chaos. On his balcony, we both indulged in the stillness, watching as the other took a deep inhale of the cigarette. Moments like these, moments of tranquillity, felt so rare in our lives. Neither I nor Pedro spoke, instead listening to the Stan Getz jazz filtering from the record player in his room. The soft jazz emanated a warm touch, its rhythm soothing my body. I lulled into the feeling, eyes on Pedro. I watched how he leaned his back against the railing, head turned towards the sky, deep in thought.

Slightly buzzed by the cocktails from earlier, I nudged my shoulder against his arm, a small smile on my face.

“Hey, mon ami, what’s on your mind?” I questioned playfully, leaning closer to his body, resting my head on his arm. I felt him shift beside me, turning his head down, back to the present. He stayed silent, but I felt his body shake slightly as he let out a deep breath he had been holding. Sensing his worry, I turned to mirror his position on the railing, standing beside him. Looking at me, Pedro willed a small smile, but it didn’t meet his eyes. 

“Can we go inside?” he asked, already moving to the door. I pressed the cigarette against the railing, killing its fiery glow, and dropped it into the darkness below. Following him inside, we made our way to his quaint lounge, where a bottle of wine and two glasses awaited us.

Two glasses in, and he still hasn’t said a word. I watched as he poured another glass, silence broken by the jazz music. I wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but I just didn’t know what to say. Our lives were so wildly different, mine as a struggling artist and his as a fucking celebrity. Running my hands down my trousers nervously, perched on the edge of the sofa by him,  I watched as Pedro gulped down another glass, deep in thought, shutting me out in silence. Had I done something wrong? What is he thinking?

“Pedro, Im going crazy here. Did I do something? What’s going on?” I splurted out, unable to deal with the building tension. My break in silence snapped his focus to me, his eyes locking onto mine. I watched him take a shaky breath as he stood up, his hands opening and closing, fisting up. He stood over me in silence, his eyes searching my body, afraid. His nervousness sickened me. My mouth was dry, my words nonexistent.

“What's going on? I asked.

Silence. Again. Jesus Christ. 

With a sigh, I stood up and began moving past Pedro, making my way to his kitchen to grab another drink. As my body passed him, I felt his hand on my arm. Firm, demanding. He pulled me back to him, spinning my body to face his. In the closeness, my eyes were pulled to his, deep and full of emotion. His hand on my arm had loosened, but remained, clinging to me. He held me softly, but full of intention and unspoken pleas. I stared, dumbfounded, as Pedro opened and closed his mouth, his words warping into exasperated breaths. He swallowed heavily, willing himself to regain composure.

“I come to Paris only for you, you know that?” he began, his words a soft whisper, barely audible over the Jazz.

“Pedro, that’s not true,” I started, “you come to Paris for work.”

“I stay in Paris for you, then.” Pedro’s voice was cracked, his usually smooth dialect broken. 

“I can’t keep you out of my mind”, he continued, his hand moving to hold my own.

“I don’t think I can let you go, mi amor.”

I felt my hands go clammy, and I instinctively pulled away from his. In a flurry, he grabbed both my hands, gripping them even tighter in his own. My cheeks flushed, and I looked down, at our interlinked hands. My throat was suddenly hoarse too, and any words that I could have possibly said melted away at the sight of our interlocked fingers. His, roughened with age, and mine, smooth and soft. He was gripping me so tightly that his knuckles were white, and I watched as he ran his thumb up and down the side of my hand. It was soothing. I felt safe in Pedro’s presence, seen. Seen as I truly am, flaws and all. Talks with Pedro were a freefall of secrecy and confession, all of which he truly listened to. All of my worries seemed to fall to Pedro. He carried them for me, and wiped them away, even when I never asked him to. Tilting my head back up to Pedro, I saw the worry lines on his face deepen, and I watched as he chewed at the side of his mouth in anticipation. His eyes were frantic against his stoic face, darting from my eyes to my lips, searching for a reaction. I could not provide one. I was frozen, a still image staring up at him. All I could muster was a small, weak smile. My brain was in overdrive, and I could not fathom a single thought other than what exactly he meant. He wanted me, not just now, but he had wanted me, even as the mess I was. As the mess I am. Within the sea of Jazz, in our island that was his lounge, I watched him dip his head slightly, his lips moving to parallel mine. Our eyes danced between each other, unspoken words of confidence, fear, and acceptance. His face moved closer. So close that I could feel the ends of his moustache brush against the top of my lip. A small breath emanated from his lips and bounced across mine, pulling the tension into a crescendo. With a certainty, our lips met. It felt like a promise. It was not a deep kiss, but a romantic one. A kiss with meaning, with full-hearted intention.  A soft touch, a confirmation of his words. He really did only stay in Paris for me. As we parted, I felt the pit in my stomach deepen, a longing for his touch. 

“Could you stay the night?” Pedro asked, silenced by my lips crashing into his.

 Within a second, our movements became desperate, lust-charged. His want overpowered mine, however, and he took the liberty of slipping his tongue into my mouth. I felt charged, overstimulated, dizzy with excitement. We made out with a fury, a crazed fire fueled by intention and desire. His movements were fluid, and I mirrored them with joy. His hands moved around my body with glee, roaming, searching. He cupped my waist and pulled me closer, revelling in our proximity. Pedro’s intentions were clear, and mine got clearer the more I felt his scruff scratch across my face. I needed him, as he needed me. I melted into his worship, his adoration of my curves underneath my grey sweater, his caressing of the arch of my back. My hands were on the sides of his face, pressing him into me with a need, running my fingers through his beard and hair. I was in a flow state, focus channelled directly into Pedro, ignorant of the rise and fall of the music, or the sounds of the city below us. 

Pedro’s cold hand sliding down the back of my jeans and boxers to grip my asscheek threw me back to reality. I gasped into him, emanating a small chuckle from him which reverberated around his body, making him shake slightly. His hand wandered with determination, dominating my own body with his rough touch. His hand grazing my bare hole made me moan with an intensity even I was unaware of, and that fueled his roam further. He was handsy, pushing against my hole, teasing me, playing into my sensitivity. He wanted me addicted to him, to his touch, to his very presence. His fingers felt like hot wax dripping across my cold, bare skin. Pedro’s touch was charged with heat, burning into my body, moulding me as if I were a piece of clay. His hands kneaded into me as a baker would do, caressing my body, taking what was his. What he had wanted for so long. As we made out, I felt him step in my direction, urging us to move to his bedroom in unison. Our bodies stayed merged, him leading me to his room whilst I tentatively moved backwards in the correct direction. Entering his room, I heard the door slam behind Pedro, ensheathing us in darkness, muting the sounds of the city.

All of a sudden, he pushed me down onto the bed, pulling our bodies apart, leaving me staring blindly in the darkness. After hearing him scuffle in the darkness, the room was flooded with the warm light of his bedside lamp. I had never seen the inside of his room before, but it wasn’t much to behold. It was bare, much like most of the apartment, but it felt truly lived in. His closet was full, with a few clothes lying on the floor, including a white jockstrap that made my cock stir. Under all the layers, Pedro was truly a slut. 

Pedro’s hand under my chin pulled me to face him, his head low, turned to face me. 

“Take off your shirt,” he commanded, and I obediently followed, my bare skin now exposed to his room. In the warm glow, I felt a bit awkward, but the sound of Pedro’s gasp melted away my self-awareness. He really wanted me. His hand trailed down my stomach, pinching at my nipples, and quickly grabbing at my growing bulge. I couldn’t help but moan. I was so desperate for his touch.

Standing over me, Pedro’s body was a silhouette against the light from the lamp, but I watched as his shadow figure began to undo his belt, the smooth metal clinks electrifying my body. My synapses were on overdrive, my vision straining to make out anything at all. I watched his trousers fall, and the boxer briefs that followed, then his shirt, leaving his shadow fully nude. I watched, entranced, as Pedro slowly stepped further from the bed, to beside his lamp, drenching his body in light.

His chest was dotted with hair, greying with age, but thick and warming. His stomach followed a similar pattern, providing a welcome mat towards his treasure trail. I followed it down lustily, watching in delight at the increase of fur that lined his body. Finally setting my eyes on his cock, I let out a small, but audible gasp, prompting a small huff of amusement from Pedro. His uncircumcised head throbbed with need, a deep red colour that matched the red briefs he had been wearing. His member was girthy, veins popping out the sides like the weight of his cock physically strained him. From his head, a glob of precum had formed, glistening in the light. His cock was wreathed with a nice mass of hair that stretched down to his balls, thick and full of seed. Pedro’s tanned body was a temple, and I wanted to worship him so badly. I needed to. And I think he knew that. By the look on my face, it was fairly obvious what I wanted: him.

As he slowly moved closer, my body began to buzz with a cold excitement. I could not speak, only stare, as he towered over me, overpowering me with his presence. Staring up into his breathtaking eyes, I felt him run his cock over my face, marking me with his scent. Moving his balls over my face, I indulged in his musk, sweaty but sweet, like ground cinnamon and espresso. I was intoxicated, in pure bliss, the weight of his member resting totally on me. He teased me, moving his cock across my face, edging it closer and closer to my mouth. It brushed against my lips, granting me a taste of his bare skin. Licking my lips, I could taste the precum that had dropped down his cock head. Tentatively, I moved my head closer, placing a small kiss on his member, evoking a low growl from Pedro. I opened my mouth slightly, and I felt his cock excitedly push against my lips, pressing into my mouth. Opening wider, he inserted himself deeper, pushing himself into me. When as much of his manhood could fit, I began bobbing my head back and forth, pushing the side of my cheeks against his girth, gifting him new textures. As I sucked, I ran my tongue on the underside of his cock in circles and spirals, evoking a low stream of moans from his body. Due to his size, I began jerking him in unison with my movements, savouring each back and forward of my body. Feeling his hands in my hair was euphoric, his heavy but comforting presence grounding me, conforming this. Confirming us. As I worked on his cock, I watched as he crumbled over me, incoherent whispers of swear words and moans of pleasure. His stomach shuddered every time his cock head was pulled to the back of my throat, his precum lining the inside of my mouth with a sweet taste. I took my time, working persistently and passionately on his cock, stretching out his pleasure, melting him into a lust-driven animal. Then, all of a sudden, Pedro’s hands moved to the back of my head, a firm lock on my movements. He then began sliding his dick in and out of my mouth, asking a small “Is this okay?”, to which I let out a lustful moan in response. Secure with his movements, he began face-fucking me with speed, pushing himself deeper. I tried my hardest to keep my mouth tight for him, but the slobber drooling from the sides of my mouth transformed it into his personal fucktoy. He moved with vigour, pleasuring himself with my mouth. His moans were more frantic, more desperate as he pushed himself closer to the edge. They were stifled, too quickly replaced by a new set of noises that hindered proper enunciation of the pleasure he was experiencing. It was succession after succession of “hahs” and huffs of lust, breathless, intoxicated. His thrusts picked up speed, his movement erratic, his body tense. Then, dramatically, he pulled his entire body away, stepping away from the bed. His cock bobbed, shaking with his denied orgasm, its head dripping with my saliva. Pedro’s entire body heaved, his chest rising and falling heavily. He looked at me blankly, stunned. After a few more deep breaths, he moved closer, grabbing my face and pulling it into his. As we kissed, his hands searched my body, pulling at my belt buckle frantically. He pulled my trousers and boxers away from me, leaving me completely naked. The sight of my eager cock prompted a small chuckle from Pedro, lightly bobbing the tip with his finger, emanating a small moan from my body.

“Lean back for me, baby.”

As per his request, I leaned back, my eyes not parting his, I watched as he lifted my legs,  exposing my hole. A small moan of approval whispered from his mouth as he saw my pink, pulsating hole, desperate for him. Lowering his face, I watched as he ran his tongue down my cock, past my balls, but I could only feel as his tongue grazed my hole. He began making out with my hole with passion, eager to please me as I did him. He kissed so tenderly, but the small thrust of his tongue into my hole melted my entire body. I was in pure bliss, his tongue slipping in and out of my tight hole, opening me up slowly. He moaned as he worked into me, enamoured by the sight of me, cock directly upright, and the perpetual image of pleasure pasted across my face.  Pedro’s eyes glowed with a fury, his dark irises glowing in the light. His shoulders rippled as his hands pushed my legs wider, squeezing with a grounding confidence. 

My body felt like butter, melted under his hand, worked into a mould. I whimpered from his movement, near an orgasm.

“Pedro, I don’t wanna come yet,” I pleaded, desperate. “I need you in me.”

“Are you sure?” Pedro asked, his voice a silk wrapped around my body. With a small nod, I adjusted my body into a more comfortable position, sticking out my hole to him. Reaching over me, he grabbed a bottle of lube off his nightstand, applying it over his cock, and over my hole, its cold nature sending a thick shiver across me. His cock glistened in the light, a shining rod, his veins popping out the sides, his head now a deep purple.  I watched him hunch over his dick, aligning with my hole. Slowly, Pedro pushed the head in, but remained there, accustoming my hole to his girth. He was big, but he slipped in easily, my hole moulding perfectly to his member. With a small nod, I urged him to move deeper, and he thrust slowly, purposefully. With his member inching slowly inside me, my body let out a guttural moan, and I bathed in the feeling of his cock throbbing in response. I felt him move inside me, pushing and pulling out achingly slowly. I needed him in me, hard. 

“Pedro, please,” I whispered, my lip quivering in the tension. My cock was painfully hard, and any small jolt from his body sent electricity through my fingertips, up my neck. 

Sensing my desperation, he swiftly began pushing faster, deeper. Each thrust was breathtaking, my curves jolting from his hard pushes. His hands gripped the insides of my thighs, pushing them away from him, making his thrusts easier, better. My mouth was agape, his thighs slapping into mine with a satisfying clap. Pedro moaned with a hunger, an overwhelming animalistic quality that was sheathed prior. He began thrusting with valour, his energy devoted to the back and forth. My insides were on fire, my prostate in heaven with each rub against it. It twitched my cock every time, sending another pool of precum to drip onto my stomach. My back was arched, my hole gripping to his length desperately, pulling him deeper with each thrust. I was aflame, his penetration an overstimulating bliss that entranced me, drowning me in Pedro’s movements. I was deluded, giddy with lust, addicted to his touch. He fucked me harshly, his hands slipping up my thighs from his sweat. He pushed incessantly, growling as he did so. His eyes were dark, his face shrouded from the light, his defined silhouette rippling as he pushed all his force into my hole. I was so insanely close, his cock attacking my prostate so perfectly.

All of a sudden, he pulled out completely, his cock bouncing as he regained his composure.

“Turn over,” he ordered, his eyes hungry watching me turn over, my ass up. Leaning onto my body and immediately inserting his cock, I felt his arm wrap around my neck, placing me in a headlock. He pushed my head up, his body over mine, and began thrusting with an insatiable force. He ravaged into me, tightening his grip on my neck, his biceps pushing into the sides, tightening my airways. His cock was an endless onslaught, ripping into me, dominating me with his force. His chokehold on me was solid, restricting my oxygen, my head tightening, my energy falling before him. I was in bliss, my head light, his thrusts the only thing I felt. Pedro breathed heavily into my ear, filling my hearing with nonsensical curses and moans. Abruptly, his head moved, his mouth pressing into the back of my neck. He kissed me with passion, digging into my skin with a tight seal. His beard scratched my skin, my receptors on overdrive, unable to handle its overwhelming sensation. He sucked into my neck as if I were a vampire, and I was his bride. Pedro marked my skin with forming hickeys, branding me as his own, tagging me as his. I felt high, moaning uncontrollably as he wrecked me. My cock rubbed into his bedsheets, jolted by his heavy movements and his attack on my prostate. I was so close. I tensed my cock, desperately trying to hold back my emerging orgasm, but I could only push it back so much. Pedro’s cock was relentless, unstopping, forceful.

“Fuck- Pedro, I’m so close-”

“Come for me,” he whispered into my ear, his moustache ticking the side of my face. His soft but hoarse voice was too much, pushing me into an orgasm. My body was grappled into the threshold between consciousness, his tight grip on my neck propelling me further from reality. My cock spasmed as I came, my seed coating his sheets and my stomach. Pedro’s thrusts didn’t cease. Instead, the pressure of my muscles around his cock as I came only pushed him further, chasing his own orgasm. He was determined, totally focused on pleasuring himself. I was blind, my vision blurred into chaos. My head throbbed, pulsating in sync with my cock. I dumped seed uncontrollably, my prostate overworked, overpowered. He fucked my hole even faster, nearing his peak. Suddenly, he pushed his entire weight onto my body, entrapping me, plugging my hole. He dumped into me, dispersing load after load, filling the crevices of my ass. It dripped down the bottom of his cock, falling onto my balls. He quickly pulled out, my body empty without his member inside. He pushed his face into my ass, his tongue sapping up his seed. Pedro then pulled my body onto my back, facing him, and thrust his lips onto mine. His seed filled my mouth, and we made out with greed, sapping up his sperm. Its salty taste coated his tongue and my mouth, and I moaned into him, my energy slowly depleting. Falling onto the bed, lying next to me, I felt his chest rise and fall. Pedro put his hand onto mine, spooning me into him. I felt him slip his cock back into me, my hole now his dock. Feeling full and content, I allowed my body to succumb to my tired state, slipping into the dark embrace of sleep. His heat lulled me from reality, and I comforted in his presence.

I awoke to the feeling of his member growing inside me, unmoving but undeniable. My eyes heavy, I turned my head slightly to see Pedro looking down at me, propped up on his elbow. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, concerned about my libido. I nodded quickly, my horny state replacing my lack of energy. With my confirmation, I felt Pedro’s hands on my ass, slapping my cheeks with a sharp crack. He pushed my ass out with force, thrusting his cock into me harshly. My moans were high-pitched, whiny, needy. Pedro was relentless, damaging, overstimulating my already overstimulated body. Whilst he ripped into me, his hand moved across my side, wrapping around my cock. He jerked me quickly, kneading my cock, pressing into my girth. It was painful, but it hurt so good. I was a wild bitch, my dignity gone, my vocals hoarse as I moaned uncontrollably. Pedro, on the other hand, was relatively silent par for a few small huffs, completely engrossed in his thrusts. He was close, I could tell, by the way his jerking of my cock had become more erratic, harder and faster. I was insanely close, grappling between another orgasm and the onslaught against my hole. All of a sudden, I felt his entire body tense, and a thick stream of curse words suddenly emanated from his mouth around the room. His seed plastering across my insides threw my body over the edge and I dumped my load all over his hand, painting him with my come. My entire body shivered as he continued to thrust, soon pushing his cock even deeper, planting another load into me. I was transported from the room, floating as he impregnated my body. As Pedro came for a second time, he pulled my body into him, his stomach against my back. His hairy figure and his beard tickled my body, scratching my skin, his tight pull digging them into me. His beard nuzzled against my shoulders, resting his head there. Finally pulling out, I heard Pedro drift into sleep, his come dripping from my hole like hot wax burning down my bare skin. It coated my hole as it fell away, pooling on his bedsheet. In his warmth, I didn’t need them. His tight grip on my body was the perfect blanket, his wide stature wrapping me with his presence. To his sweet and Christmas-like scent, I found my body falling back into the familiar pattern of sleep, my breaths in sync with Pedro’s.

》》》》》◆《《《《《

I awoke to the sound of a drunken man screaming in French. He cussed incessantly, but suddenly fell silent. Odd. Opening my eyes, I noticed the faint early morning light peep through the gap between the door and the floor.

“I need a fucking cigarette.” I thought, moving through the apartment, grabbing the nearest sweater as I grabbed my pack, stepping out onto the balcony. With a lit cigarette in my mouth, I took deep tokes as I watched the cityscape around me emerge from the shrouds of the night. I revelled in the cool air brushing against my face, feeling how the cigarette smoke wrapped around my body. The world felt calm, still. I always forget how much I love the early hours of the day, how distant time feels, how expectations just seem to fall away.

Pedro’s hands wrapping around my waist crushed into my deluded perception of reality.

“You look good in my sweater,” he said, chucking into my neck. Looking down, I noticed I was, in fact, wearing his sweater. I also noticed that I wasn’t wearing anything but his sweater. Feeling my face flush, I quickly ashed my cigarette and practically flung myself back into his apartment. I threw myself onto his sofa, embarrassment burning onto my face. Looking up at Pedro, I noticed that he was completely nude except for the bedsheet that he had dragged with him. His bare chest and broad shoulders were lush, and his hair was messy, his curls tangled, sticking up in random ways. He looked humorous, a hunk of a man with the hair of a crazed person. I smiled up at him, more in my own thoughts than the present.

“Let’s go back to bed.” He said, his hand extending outwards towards me. 

“Don’t you leave today?” I replied, time finally catching up against the stillness of the morning. This can’t be over already. I felt sick, my stomach twisting into a knot, the thought of not seeing Pedro for months unbearable.

“Not anymore,” He replied, reaching and pulling me into him.

“Not when I’ve finally got you.”

I couldn’t help but smile. What a fucking romantic. Thank God.

“Let's go back to bed,” I whispered, my hands on his chest as he wrapped his arms around me.

“Okay.”

》》》》》◆《《《《《

[starlightkun]

⇢ word count: 37.8k total (22.7k & 15.1k) ⇢ genre: sci-fi/science fantasy au, soulmate au, alien!jungwoo, human!reader, slow burn, fluff and angst ⇢ warnings: blood/injury mentions, a couple needle/injection mentions, if u get secondhand embarrassment this one might hurt in places ⇢ extra info: this is the second part of a two-part fic, you need to read the first part to know what’s going on! this was released in two parts bc of tumblr’s 1000-block limit that was put in place to hurt me personally :)) ⇢ author’s note: and here’s part two! ⇢ part one

“What did I say before, hm? Finders keepers,” you declared, grabbing his other hand. “You’re not going to die as long as I have something to say about it.”

The screen of your phone lit up from where it sat on the dashboard of Jungwoo’s spaceship, and you immediately grabbed it. It was Donghyuck, and at this point, you would’ve taken your bestie ‘SPAM LIKELY’ to get you out of here.

“Hey, it’s Hyuck, you got it here?” You asked Jungwoo, already on your feet.

“Yes, I’ll be okay,” Jungwoo confirmed, eyes momentarily leaving the screen to meet yours.

You clambered out of the hatch with haste, taking off into the trees. Hastily sending Donghyuck a text that you’d call him back in a minute, you practically bolted back up the cliffside to get to the road before doing just that.

Hyuck picked up before it could even ring once, not wasting any time, “Hey, how’s our pet alien?”

“He has a name,” you retorted, still out of breath.

“He doesn’t seem to mind when I call him that.”

“He probably doesn’t understand how derogatory it could be. His language might not have a direct equivalent for the concept.”

“Yeah, whatever, how is he?”

“Fine. All of his wounds have healed.”

Your friend’s tone immediately shifted. “You sound weird. What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” You insisted.

“Y/N.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Sure.”

And so after explaining your situation to Donghyuck to the best of your ability, you waited with bated breath for his response.

“Oh my God, he’s going to lay his eggs in you,” he gasped.

“Hyuck! Gross!” You hissed, half-ready to hang up right then.

“I’ve seen enough alien movies to know where this is going.”

“Or watched too much weird porn.”

“You didn’t laugh at my joke, clearly you’re in crisis, sorry.” His apology sounded sincere.

You sighed, staring down into the trees below you that you knew contained a spaceship and spaceman that weren’t from here, that didn’t belong here. “I mean, he’s still fixing his ship to leave…”

“What if he plans on abducting you and taking you with him?”

“Stop it!” You scolded him again. “Jungwoo wouldn’t do that.”

“You seriously think he’ll just leave his mate behind?”

“You are way too comfortable saying that word.”

“This is not about my nighttime proclivities.”

“If I told him to, yeah, I think he would. He’s been super respectful, all things considered.”

“Okay… whatever…”

You were worried. Jungwoo had continued fixing his ship, but with each passing day, you swore he was looking worse again. He said his wounds had completely healed inside and out, but the pallor of his skin didn’t look right, he was moving slower again, and he didn’t eat as much at meals. You took a risk and took him there during the day today, not wanting to risk drawing out his stay on Earth any longer than necessary.

Just getting him down to the ship today was perilous, as he tripped going down the last of the hillside. A rock had cut his arm, thankfully not very deep, but the sight of the deep blue blood did nothing to calm your anxious mind. He let you take a second to use a first aid kit in the ship on him, but then was right back to business as usual, fixing his ship.

“How’s it coming along?” You asked, hovering over him worriedly as he sat on the floor, working on a panel under the control console.

“It’s almost done,” he informed you quietly.

“Jungwoo, you don’t look okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Is it the hydrogen? Or something else that you can’t get on Earth?” You went to press the back of your hand to his forehead. It was sticky with sweat, but simultaneously cold and clammy. “Shit, dude, you feel awful.”

“I’m—I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I just need to get back to-to Galaria.”

“Okay, yeah,” you nodded. “Let’s get you back. You said it’s almost done. What else do you need?”

“One of your friends is a mechanic?”

“Yeah, Yuta. He fixes cars.” You were slightly alarmed that he apparently couldn’t remember which one.

Jungwoo held out a long, thin black tube to you. “Could you ask him if he has something like this? Twice as long?”

“Of course! I'll go right now!” You took the tube from him. “You stay right here. Rest, okay?”

He nodded, leaning against the panel and shutting his eyes.

You ran into Yuta’s auto shop, skidding to a stop and nearly crashing into a bench and toolbox, drawing the attention of everyone in the shop. Every head whipped over to look at you, and Yuta pushed himself out from under a truck on the far side of the shop.

“Yuta!” You dashed over to him, ignoring the attempts at conversation from his coworkers as you ran by them.

“Off-limits, assholes!” Yuta yelled back at them before focusing on you again, grabbing a rag to wipe his hands off. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“It’s Jungwoo, he needs something like this, but double the length.” You held the tube out to him. “Do you have anything like it? I’ll pay for it.”

Yuta inspected it with a furrowed brow, and you dropped your voice even lower as the sounds of the auto shop rose again.

“Please, he’s-he’s really not doing well. I don’t know how much longer he can be here, Yuta. Something about Earth, it’s not good for him. I’m really worried.”

“Yeah, I would be if I were you.” Yuta handed the tube back to you, then crossed his arms over his chest. “I gave him a part just like that two days ago. He said it was the last piece he needed.”

“What?!” Your heart fell to the pit of your stomach.

“I gave him a new brake hose two days ago. Unless he blew it up again, this isn’t it.”

“I’ve got to go.” You took off towards the door of the garage. “Bye, Yuta! Thanks!”

“See you around!”

Something wasn’t right. You could feel it in the pit of your stomach as you looked down at the brake hose in your hands. You could feel it in the deep rumble of the pavement under your feet as you ran down the shoulder of the highway back towards the ship. You could feel it in your lungs as you sucked in air that smelled oddly smoky. There was no caution in your movements as you took the familiar path down into the trees. Sirens followed behind you from all directions, converging on the same place as you. But you had gotten there before them.

The ship pulsated with an energy you had never seen before, no longer dull dark metal, but thrumming with power, colorful bursts of light jumping from panel to panel. The reactors at the back that you had watched Jungwoo rebuild with his own two hands roared to life.

No friends to grab you and hold you back now. It was only you.

You lunged for the button that you knew would extend the ladder, throwing the hose to the ground so you could have two free hands to scramble up the side of the ship. At the cockpit, you held onto the top rung of the ladder as the ship jerked and lifted off the ground. You desperately hit the other button to open the glass hatch, dropping into the cockpit and pulling the dome shut with you.

Jungwoo was crumpled in a heap on the ground in front of the controls, not even in a seat. Thankfully, he took a small, shallow breath. The ship accelerated, throwing the both of you across the cockpit. You swore as your head impacted with the wall, and Jungwoo grunted as he hit another panel.

“What the hell is your problem, Jungwoo?” You chastised him as you rolled him over. “You tell me you’ve imprinted on me, then send me off on a wild goose chase so that you can leave without saying goodbye? And then you fucking pass out?”

“Y/N?” He mumbled, slowly blinking a couple times as he looked up at you. “That’s… you?”

“Yes, you dumbass,” you scoffed, pulling his head onto your lap as you were truly just relieved to see his eyes open again. “Now come on, don’t fall asleep on me again.”

“Mm… yes… it’ll be nice… I think… to die in your arms.”

“Christ, you’re so dramatic,” you rolled your eyes to not give away how fast your heart was beating, how sweaty your palms were, or that your hands were shaking with nerves. “You’re not going to die. You hear me? It looks like you’ve already put in directions back home, right? To Galaria? Please tell me this thing has autopilot.”

“Yes. Provided… there are no… unexpected emergencies…” He took several uneven, short breaths. “The ship… will take care of it…”

“Awesome. How often are there unexpected emergencies in intergalactic travel?”

Jungwoo was out cold.

You hung your head, letting out a deep sigh. “Cool. Great. Nice one, Y/N. Stuck on a spaceship that you don’t know how to fly. In space. With a half-dead alien. Stellar life choices, as always.”

You had no clue how much time had passed since you’d left Earth. There were no clocks—at least not ones that you could read—in Jungwoo’s ship, and your spaceman stayed knocked out, never coming close to consciousness. You got hungry at some point, but you couldn’t find any food, or least anything that you would risk eating this early. Maybe if it really felt dire. You hadn’t stocked Jungwoo up with supplies yet, you thought you had more time. Was he really planning on leaving like that?

A pleasant dinging came over the speakers of the ship eventually, reminding you of the sound that played over plane intercoms when an announcement was made. A computerized voice said something, but you realized you couldn’t understand it. You couldn’t make out a single word or syllable. It must be speaking Galarii. Nothing was flashing red, hopefully it wasn’t anything that required your assistance.

It felt like the ship was slowing down. You held onto Jungwoo’s lifeless body tightly to brace the two of you. He was still warm, and you took a small comfort in that.

With another jerk and cacophonous rattle, the ship touched down. You were pretty sure. The hum of the reactors died down, and it felt like the ship had finally stopped. Jungwoo let out a weak sound of pain in your arms, and you were on your feet.

You slammed your hand against the button to open the hatch with none of the grace that you’d seen Jungwoo use dozens of times. Tugging the transcoder off his neck, you put it on yourself before wedging your shoulder under his, planting your foot on a seat cushion, and heaving upwards with as much force as you could. Either the gravity on Galaria was different, you were having an adrenaline rush, or both, as Jungwoo’s body actually moved with you. You jerked both of you up onto the ladder, yelling in between deep breaths.

“Help!” Shove. “Help us!” Heave. “Help! Somebody!” Push. “Help!”

After the next jump, your head poked out of the cockpit. Immediately, you were met with winds that whipped your hair around and chilled you to the bone. You took as deep of a breath that you could, the frosty air feeling like knives in your lungs, to let out another cry, “Help!”

The lilac sky was barely visible through the snow that flurried around your face, sticking to your skin and hair. Two figures appeared through the snowstorm, approaching the spaceship, and you readjusted your hold on Jungwoo to lean his weight back on you to free up one arm to wave at them fervently.

“Over here!” You screamed. “Help us! Please!”

Jungwoo coughed, blue blood dribbling out of his mouth.

“Oh god…” You cupped his cerulean-stained cheek, panic flooding your heart as you saw the two figures stop in their tracks.

Heaving the two of you over the side in the quickest way you knew to get down, you slid down the ship, the fresh snow that had piled up breaking your fall about as well as Donghyuck had before. The impact rattled up your feet and knees, and you swore under your breath as you definitely heard something pop that had never popped before. Wrapping Jungwoo’s arm around your shoulders, you started dragging him towards the two figures.

“Hey!” You yelled out at them, glaring against the snow and wind. Tears streamed down your face as the wind battered your eyes, and your teeth were already chattering. “What the hell are you doing? He’s fucking dying! Help him!”

This finally spurred them into moving again, the figures rushing towards you once more. As they got closer, you could see that they were human-like—Galarii, presumably. They were bundled up for the weather, goggles and cloth masks obscuring much of their faces from you, but as they reached to take Jungwoo from you, a sudden fear seized you, and you jerked back from them at the last second, tightening your hold on him.

They must have been able to guess what spooked you, as one lifted up his goggles and pulled down his mask to let you see his face as he addressed you.

“I’m Kun. That’s my aide, Dejun,” he indicated to himself, then to the other Galarii. “I’m Jungwoo’s brother. Please.”

You looked between them for a moment, then nodded. They moved to each take one of his arms and loop it around their shoulders. You stayed close as they trudged through the snowstorm with him, your worried eyes staying on Jungwoo. Your feet were entirely numb, and you didn’t register when one of the caught on something under the snow until you were already catapulting forward face-first. Your hands were tucked under your arms, and you couldn’t get them out fast enough to break your fall. Kun thankfully had faster reflexes than you, and managed to catch you by the arm, leaving you suspended above the snowbank for a perilous moment. He jerked you back until you got your feet under you again, and you mumbled out a thank you that was muted by the winds. Looking over your shoulder, your knees nearly gave out again when you saw the trail of blue drops that Jungwoo was leaving behind.

Kun once again grabbed your arm, and you looked at him inquisitively, coming to a stop as they did. You were in front of a cliffside by the ocean, which was in fact a cotton candy pink, no buildings in sight. The sea spray stung your eyes, made them water up, and you did your best to cover them without entirely obscuring your vision.

Dejun approached the rock wall as Kun took on all of Jungwoo’s weight. You heard a faint groan, and you weren’t sure which of them it came from, but you moved to take over where Dejun had just been. Jungwoo was no longer warm.

Dejun touched his own pendant to part of the stone, and you swore you saw something glow, but that could’ve been the refraction of light off the waves into your pupils, you couldn’t be sure. An opening formed in the cliffside, and Dejun ushered the three of you in. As soon as you stepped in, it didn’t feel like you were underground, or inside a cliff. It just seemed like you were indoors. Sure, it was dim, but pleasantly so, like it was evening. It was also warm, which you were glad for. You readjusted your hold on Jungwoo, pressing your hand against his chest for some stability, the right side of his chest, desperately hoping that maybe you could feel his heartbeat finally. You couldn’t.

Dejun didn’t request to take Jungwoo back from you though his hands hovered around you uncertainly, as if he were about to. You weren’t sure if you would’ve let him this time. Instead, he simply led the way through the sprawling home you had found yourself in. You didn’t pay attention much to your surroundings, only enough to make sure you weren’t going to trip while you carried Jungwoo. Finally, you made it to a bedroom of some kind, and Kun motioned for you to put him down on the bed there.

Kun took off some of his outer layers, letting you see his face again for the first time since he found the two of you at the ship. Dejun reentered the room—you didn’t realize he had left—also no longer in his thick parka and carrying what must be a first aid kit, handing it off to Kun.

“What’s your name?” Kun asked, his eyes focused on the materials in his hands.

At first, you couldn’t talk, your throat too dry from the cold air outside. You desperately swallowed and coughed, then hoarsely said, “Y/N.”

Dejun poured you a glass of something from a jug in the corner, and you looked it over. It looked like water to you, and you remembered that Jungwoo didn’t seem put off by what water looked like on Earth. You took a tentative sip. Tasted like nothing. It soothed your raw throat a little bit, and you drank some more.

“My name’s Y/N,” you reiterated, then faltered as you looked at Jungwoo. “I’m… Jungwoo’s friend. He crashed on Earth, we were helping him get back. But then he started getting like this. You can help him, right?”

Kun gently tilted his brother’s head back and forth, the prevalent frown on his features only deepening. “Dejun, some help?”

The aide came over, and the two of them lifted Jungwoo’s shirt up over his head. You gasped when you saw some bruising on his back and side, presumably from when he hit the wall when you took off from Earth. But the two Galarii didn’t focus on that. Their attention was on his shoulders instead, having a hushed conversation between themselves.

“Is his shoulder okay?” You asked. “Is it broken or something?”

“His joint is fine,” Dejun reassured you.

“Oh, good.”

“Y/N,” he said your name quietly, eyes focused on your leg. “You’re bleeding. I think.”

You looked down at your still-numb extremities, registering for the first time that you had apparently been cut by something outside. Bright red dripped down the side of your left leg, and you held back the instinct to touch it in disbelief.

“Oh. Sorry.” You apologized, as you noticed a spot on the floor. “Uhm, do you have a band-aid?”

“Follow me, we’ll get it cleaned up and give you some new clothes.”

You looked at Jungwoo anxiously, where Kun was still tending to him. “I’m fine.”

“He’ll still be here, Y/N,” Kun promised. “I’m sure my brother would want us to take care of his friend too.”

Reluctantly, you went with Dejun into an adjoining room. After getting your cut washed out and a bandage applied, he fetched you some warmer clothes.

“Thanks, Dejun.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “Can I go back?”

“Sure. I’ll bring you some food.”

Stepping back into the room, you saw Kun cleaning up Jungwoo’s face and chest where his blood had begun drying.

“Can I help?” You offered tentatively.

Kun waved you over. “His head keeps lolling around. Can you keep him still?”

“Of course.” You sat on the corner of the bed, gently rearranging Jungwoo to cradle the back of his head with both your hands in your lap. Brushing some of his hair from his face, you took comfort in watching the shallow but steady rise and fall of his chest. “Is that better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“His iridophores don’t look right.” You stated, able to see the reflective patches on his cheeks and shoulders from this angle. “That’s what you’re worried about, right?”

Kun nodded. “Yes.”

“They’re… dull.” You kept your hands where they were. The realization did nothing to soothe you. “What does that mean?”

“I can’t say.”

“What can it mean?” You asked insistently, eye boring holes into the top of Kun’s head as he was bent over focusing rather intently on one spot. “On Earth, one symptom can mean a lot of things. What can dull iridophores be a symptom of?”

“We won’t know anything until he wakes up,” Kun reiterated, soaking and wringing out the washcloth one final time. His eyes met yours, his own iridophores glinting in the lights. “Please, I don’t want to speculate before then.”

“Fine. Okay,” you relented for now.

The Galarii’s gaze fell to the pendant around your neck. “That’s Jungwoo’s transcoder.”

You looked down at it as well. “Yeah. I figured I needed it more than him right now. You know, considering…”

“Has he explained to you how it works?”

“Telepathy. Which he told me is apparently very scientific to you all, and definitely not witchcraft,” you snorted.

Dejun entered, a plate of food in his hand. Kun nodded towards it for you. “Eat.”

You sighed, pressing your hand to Jungwoo’s cheek once more. He wasn’t ice cold anymore, but still felt clammy to the touch. Maneuvering his head back to the pillow, you moved over to the table where Dejun had set the food for you. It all seemed food-like, and if your attention wasn’t so focused on your spaceman, you were sure you would be much more enthralled by eating alien food right now. But you could barely even taste it as you wolfed down a few bites, then a few more when Kun was still carefully watching you. When he seemed satisfied that you were fed, you pushed the plate away.

“Full,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”

Dejun and Kun exchanged a look, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you know when he’ll wake up?” You asked. “Don’t you guys have like, doctors or something? Healers? I don’t know, any sort of healthcare?”

“His iridophores… doctors can’t help with that,” Kun explained, obviously choosing his words very carefully. “We have to see if Jungwoo will pull through on his own.”

“That’s it?!” You spat back, wide-eyed. Maybe your tone was a bit harsh, but you couldn’t believe that they apparently didn’t even need a real doctor to examine him to give a diagnosis like that.

“Y/N—”

“But he’s—He was fine just a few days ago…” You stared at him in disbelief. “We got ice cream…”

“I’ll have Dejun make a room up for you, Y/N,” Kun said, gently patting your shoulder as they moved towards the exit.

“Kun.” You grabbed his arm before he got too far. He turned around to look at you inquisitively. “I’m sorry. He’s your brother, this must be painful for you too. Really, I’m so sorry.”

He offered a melancholy smile, nodding. “Thank you.”

You couldn’t sleep that night, kept up thinking about Jungwoo. Finally, after too much restless tossing and turning, you got out of bed. Wandering down the halls of whatever cave house you were in, you turned your phone on. Of course you didn’t have service inside a cliff in another galaxy. Coming to a stop in some sort of open living space, you sat down onto something that you were going to call a loveseat, which overlooked a small pool of water that seemed to glow on its own. You stared at your zero bars, thought about Jungwoo dying, being on a planet in a galaxy far away from your friends and family, and for possibly the first time in your entire life, felt so lonely you could cry.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you buried your face in them, feeling so small and wanting nothing more than someone bigger than you to come in and make everything okay again. You dialed Johnny’s contact on your phone, just to hear the dial tone as the call didn’t connect, then dropped and hung up on its own.

You got the feeling that somebody else was there, and turned around towards the entrance. It was Kun, and he ducked his head sheepishly.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” He surmised.

“No.” You scooted to one end of the seat, offering up the empty space for him to join you.

“I can alter your device, to communicate with Earth,” he offered, gesturing to your phone, the screen of which was still lit up in your hand.

“You think so?” You asked hopefully.

“Yes. It will keep my mind busy, too.”

You placed it in his waiting palm. “Thank you!”

He looked at the glowing pond in front of the two of you. “Do you have places like this on Earth?”

“Kind of?” You said. “I think? Maybe? Is it some kind of uh, bioluminescence? Some bacteria or something that glow?”

Kun smiled. “Yes, exactly.”

“Cool. Funny, we have pink oceans too. Like, our whole ocean isn’t pink, but there’s small lakes and stuff that are pink like yours.”

“What color are your oceans, then?” He tilted his head curiously.

“Blue, like our sky,” you informed him with a grin. “Or, sometimes a greenish blue.”

“A blue sky…” He muttered, clearly trying to picture that. “I’m sure that fascinated Jungwoo.”

“Hey.” You looked at him inquisitively. “Is it really true that you don’t know who’s older?”

Kun chuckled. “It’s different on Earth, then?”

“Very.”

“Yes, Galarii children aren’t raised being called the older or younger child. Most families have their children very close together, so unless you remember your sibling being born, you typically won’t know which of you is older.”

“And school isn’t organized by age either.”

“No.”

“Huh.”

“Do you have a sibling?”

“An older brother, kind of,” you said fondly. “That’s who I was trying to call.”

Kun furrowed his brow. “He’s ‘kind of’ older, or ‘kind of’ your brother?”

“‘Kind of’ my brother.” You laughed. “Definitely older. We know that on Earth. And even if we didn’t, he remembers me being born, so…”

“Ah, you’ve known him for a while?”

“Friends for my whole life, yeah. He always knows what to do. Which is usually pretty annoying, but this time, I really need that.”

The Galarii with you nodded in understanding. “I don’t know everything, but I will do my best to let you speak with him.”

Kun rose to his feet.

“Kun.” You stopped him from leaving. “When humans are in comas, people say that they can still hear you. Is Jungwoo like that right now?”

“I think it will benefit him for you to spend time with him,” he agreed. “I’ll bring you your communicator once it’s ready. You should try to sleep tonight, Y/N.”

You offered him a smile. “Thank you, Kun. For everything.”

“Thank you for bringing him home.”

When you woke up, you couldn’t be sure if it was morning, but it was definitely brighter in the hallway outside your room. You were sure they had the lights set to mimic whatever the rhythm of Galarian days were like.

Jungwoo looked the same as when you left him yesterday, which was both comforting and disconcerting. He hadn’t gotten any worse overnight, but he wasn’t getting better. You pulled up a chair next to the bed, wringing your hands over your lap.

Feeling a little silly as you looked around the otherwise empty room, you said quietly, “Uh, hey, Jungwoo…”

He didn’t stir, and you poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you contemplated continuing. Eventually, you did. “I don’t… know what to say. My grandpa died when I was seven and when my mom took me to his headstone after, I never knew what I was supposed to say to it. Not that you’re dead, obviously… I-I was kind of relieved when I got older and my mom stopped taking me with her to visit him. I think that’s bad. But it felt like I always had to pretend to be as sad as her, which didn’t feel right to her.”

You readjusted how the covers settled on Jungwoo. “I wish you were awake, so I could ask you what sort of funeral traditions you have on Galaria, or if your grandparents are alive, or about your mom. I guess I could ask Kun that kind of stuff, but it wouldn’t be the same. I-I want to know about you.”

Time passed like that, you having a one-sided conversation with Jungwoo. Dejun sometimes stopped in to bring you meals and check on Jungwoo. After your second meal of the day, Kun entered the room, holding your phone out towards you. It looked the exact same as before, and you went to pocket it.

“It’s fine, Kun, don’t worry about—”

“Try it,” he urged you.

“Wait, you fixed it?” You took it back out, looking down at the screen. It looked normal, except you realized that that now it indicated that you had full bars. Honestly, you were expecting some kind of alien technology to be appended to it, and for the endeavor to take much longer. “That was fast.”

You once again tried to call Johnny, entirely unsure and uncaring of what time it was on Earth. This time, it rang.

“Y/N?!” His voice was a mixture of disbelief and fear when he picked up. You gave Kun a thumbs-up and darted from the room to properly take the call.

“Hey, Johnny…” You were already braced for the scolding of a lifetime, certain that he was well aware of where you were. Somehow, he always knew. Who knew how long you have been gone from home at this point.

“Y/N…” He took a deep breath. “Just come home safe.”

“I will, I will!” You promised hurriedly.

“I sprinkled into conversation with your parents your destination bachelorette trip already. So when you get back, you’ve got to figure out which one of your friends is getting married.”

Not if, when.

“Thank you, thank you.”

“Put Jungwoo on, I need to talk to him,” he demanded sternly.

Your throat nearly closed up as you thought of the scene you had just left, Jungwoo still passed out, his iridophores fading, untreatable even by Galarii doctors. “I can’t, he’s-he’s really bad. I don’t know what—I don’t know.”

“Hey, Y/N, it’s okay. Deep breaths with me now, alright, kid?” Johnny’s tone immediately softened, and he led you through a few deep breaths over the call. Once he seemed satisfied that you were a little calmer, he continued with the same soothing voice, “He’ll be alright. He’s back where he belongs, where people who know how to treat him can treat him. He’ll be fine.”

Tears spilled over your cheeks as you shook your head desperately. “They can’t, John. They can’t treat him. He’s—He’ll either get better or he won’t.”

“What?!” He asked incredulously. “He’s not a lame horse that needs to be put down. Who told you that? Put them on the phone.”

“I—” You sniffed and wiped your eyes. “Why do you care so much?”

Johnny sighed again, lowering his voice. “Look. You are stranded God fucking knows where. And as far as I’m concerned, Jungwoo is the only alien there that is going to want to get you home. So he can’t fucking die.”

You shuffled back into the room, thankfully spotting Kun still in there. “Do you have a transcoder?”

“Yes, is there something wrong with yours? I can understand you just fine.”

“No, uhm, Johnny wants to talk to you.” You indicated to your phone.

Kun raised his eyebrows, gesturing to himself. “Your brother wishes to speak with me?”

“Yeah. He’s a… doctor,” you half-fibbed. “He helped take care of Jungwoo when he crashed before. He wants to know how he’s doing. Will it work over the phone? The transcoder?”

Kun gestured for you to wait, then left the room for a moment, returning with a necklace similar to yours around his neck. The pendant was of a similar construction, but a slightly different shape and angles.

You quickly informed Johnny, “Okay, uhm, this is Kun, Jungwoo’s brother.”

The Galarii accepted the phone, and you helped him hold it correctly before he stepped out to take the call like you had. You kept your ears peeled for the worst, hoping Johnny stayed on his best behavior.

“Jungwoo, I hate this,” you kept talking to your spaceman in the meantime. “I hate not being able to do anything for you. I hate just having to wait, feeling useless.”

After some time, you heard footsteps outside the room, and quieted down before Kun reentered, holding your phone out to you.

“So… what did you guys talk about?” You asked hopefully.

“There may be one more thing we can try for Jungwoo,” Kun said, and you immediately got to your feet.

“Well let’s do it!”

He held out a hand to calm you. “It’ll have to wait until nighttime, I’m afraid.”

“What? What is—?”

“In the meantime, Johnny did mention that human bodies don’t naturally make the same painkillers that Galarii do. I apologize for not being aware of that.” Kun bowed his head apologetically. “Are you in any pain?”

“It’s fine.”

“He said you would do that as well, and to ask again. Are you certain you are not in pain? You cut your leg yesterday.”

You sighed, refraining from rolling your eyes at the man who really was just trying to be kind. “Fine. My head hurts a little, and my leg. And sort of everything.”

“Come with me, I can prepare you an injection. Johnny explained proper dosage and administration for humans.”

Reluctantly, you left and followed Kun to another room in the house. It appeared to be another bedroom, and he gestured for you to take a seat at a small desk. Papers were in neat stacks, and you looked around with both interest and eagerness to get this over with so you could get back to Jungwoo.

“Is this your room?” You asked as Kun pulled up a chair and opened a first aid kit of some kind.

“Yes.”

“Is that Jungwoo’s room that you have him in?” You watched him roll up your sleeve to wipe down your arm first. “Does he live with you?”

“When he’s on Galaria, yes.” Kun then brought out a small, clear bottle and syringe that looked remarkably like the ones back on Earth. “His ship is more-so his home.”

“His actual ship, right? The one he took this time was yours.”

The Galarii filled the syringe with a very small amount of medicine. “Yes. He doesn’t spend enough time here to necessitate having his own place.”

“So did you finish your paperwork?”

He nodded to the stacks on the desk next to you. “Does it look like I did?”

You laughed, and he reached for your upper arm. “Just let me know when you’re going to do it. My friend Yuta wanted to be a piercer in high school before he was a mechanic, so I have a lot of practice being stuck.”

“I already did it,” Kun informed you, holding a small piece of gauze to the site.

You looked down in disbelief. “Seriously?” And sure enough, there was an empty syringe on the table too. “Damn, I didn’t feel a thing. You’re good.”

Kun took the gauze off the injection site, a small drop of red blood on it. “You know, has anybody ever said that is a very alarming color?”

“I think that’s the point,” you chuckled. “To get your attention.”

“I see…”

“So what’s the other thing to help Jungwoo?”

“I have some work to get done before it.” He gestured to the papers again with a remorseful look. “How about you sit with him for now? I’ll let you know once we can get started.”

You bit your tongue to not take your frustration at the situation out on your host. “Alright. Thanks, Kun.”

Back in Jungwoo’s room, you froze when you were greeted by two big brown eyes blinking at you from the bed. Jungwoo seemed equally in shock as he rubbed his eyes, squinting at you uncertainly.

“Hey, you’re awake,” you breathed out in relief, feet finally coming unstuck so you could dart over to his bedside.

“Y/N?” He groaned and tried to push himself up into a sitting position.

“Easy, easy,” you murmured, urging him back down.

“That’s… really you?”

You offered him a smile, hoping he couldn’t tell how nervous you were. “Yeah. Crazy déjà vu, huh?”

Jungwoo looked down at his own hands. “I’m alive?”

“Yeah, you are. It was uhm… kind of scary for a while there,” you admitted quietly, taking his hand. Putting some pep into your tone, you added, “But I told you, remember? I said you weren’t going to die.”

“I thought I was hallucinating and dying,” he deadpanned.

“When? On the ship? You could’ve been, I don’t know. What did you see?”

“You. I thought I was hallucinating when I saw you.”

“Oh. No, I’m real.”

His mouth was set into a hard line as he asked, “Why are you here?”

“Because your ship’s autopilot worked and didn’t crash us into the ocean,” you teased.

But he didn’t even smile. “What…? Why would you do that?”

The smile dropped from your face as you turned confused. “Because I didn’t want you to die? Why are you… pissed at me? Is that it? You’re pissed?”

All the happiness that was bubbling in your chest had been soured with the unexpectedly hostile reaction you’d received from Jungwoo.

“You’ve never been in space— I—” He took a deep breath, once again trying to push himself up and succeeding this time as you didn’t stop him. You dropped his hand, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him carefully, still concerned with how weak he’d be after not eating or drinking for so long. “What if the ship had crashed? Exploded? What if it flew at speeds unsafe for humans? What if my ship didn’t protect you against radiation deadly to humans because it was built for Galarii? What if Galarii had much longer lifespans than humans and something that was a short trip for me was longer than your entire life? What if we made it here and you couldn’t breathe our air? What if—”

 “None of that happened,” you insisted.

“There were any billions of things that could have gone wrong, that you didn’t know and you—”

“They didn’t,” you reiterated emphatically.

“What if they did? Because of a choice you made for me?”

You rolled your eyes and stood up, putting some distance between the two of you as you felt anger start simmering under your skin. “It wasn’t really a choice. It was… I don’t know, I just did it. But it was fine, so just stop, alright?”

“Why did you come with me?” Jungwoo asked knowingly.

“Why did you try to leave me like that?” You shot back.

He suddenly couldn’t look you in the eye. “I was dying, I had to get back home.”

“I know, I was trying to help you get back home,” you scoffed. “I mean, why did you trick me into going to ask Yuta for a part that you already had, so that you could leave me without saying goodbye? I was ready to let you go, Jungwoo—”

“Because hearing you say that would’ve actually killed me!” His chest heaved after his outburst, his eyes were a watery red as he continued, “And you… that would’ve hurt you. And I couldn’t stick around just to selfishly enjoy another moment of your time if it meant doing that to you. I figured the confusion wouldn’t have been as bad as watching me die.”

The two of you stared at each other for several tense, choking seconds as his words hung in the air. You clenched your jaw, chewing on your next words, ruminating on them, before you swallowed them back down, sharp and bitter.

“I need to take a walk, because if I stay in here, I’m going to say something nasty that I don’t mean,” you spat out instead.

Kun found you by the bioluminescent pond again, a normal-looking water feature by day. You were crouched by the water’s edge, listlessly watching the water lap at the cold stone floor you were sitting on.

“Jungwoo’s awake,” Kun said, standing just behind and to your right side.

“Yeah.” You swallowed. “You heard us fighting, I’m guessing.”

“I didn’t hear what was said, only his voice. The only way I could get him to stay in bed was by promising that I would check on you.”

“Jungwoo’s been out for a while, he should get something to eat, and drink—”

“Dejun is getting him food and water now.”

“Good,” you croaked, wiping at a tear that had collected at the corner of your eye. “God damn it…”

 Kun sat down beside you. “You’re more than his friend, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I guess. I don’t know.” You picked at your fingernails to avoid looking at him. “He… you know…”

“Imprinted? On you?” The Galarii’s voice betrayed his awe.

“Yeah. I know it’s a big deal, like the big deal for you guys… but I don’t do that, so…”

“It’s been awkward.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“Do you have a… partner on your planet?” He asked sympathetically.

“Oh, no, it’s not that bad, thankfully,” you sniffled and laughed. “It’s not that I don’t like Jungwoo, or that I can’t see myself, you know… falling in love with him or whatever. It just feels like I’m at Point A and he’s already at Point X waiting for me to catch up. Like there’s this huge gap.”

“He’s not in love with you, if that helps,” Kun informed you.

You stared at him blankly. “Huh?”

“Ah, exactly what I thought. Jungwoo didn’t explain imprinting very well.” Kun nodded to himself. “It’s not… instant infatuation, or love, or anything like that. You’re aware, in the back of your mind, that theoretically anybody in the universe could be the person you spend the rest of your life with, right? There may be near infinite numbers of people that you could be attracted to? Hypothetically?”

“I haven’t really thought of it like that, but I guess, yeah.” Without Donghyuck here unhelpfully joking about eggs, you found the conversation much easier to process. Or maybe you were just becoming desensitized to the idea, you couldn’t tell.

“Jungwoo doesn’t feel that endlessness anymore. His infinity is just you now. He’s not in love with you, because he doesn’t know you very well, but he knows that the only person he could ever fall in love with for the rest of his life is you.”

“So I’m at Point A and he’s at like, Point G, not Point X.”

“If your analogy is translating correctly, yes.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, mind turning over one part of his explanation. “‘Could.’ You used the word could, unless the transcoder is being liberal with nuance here.”

“Well, yes. I don’t think this is getting muddied in translation. It’s not definite that he’s going to fall in love with you.” He tilted his head. “I think that’s what is making you anxious, right? Feeling as though you have no choice, something has already plotted your life for you?”

You nodded. “Yeah… I think it brings some people peace, doesn’t it? On my planet, a lot of people have a god of some kind that they think has a divine plan for them and their life. That… freaks me the fuck out.” You let out a breathy, nervous chuckle, wringing your hands. “I’ve never liked feeling trapped.”

“You could leave the planet. If Jungwoo knew it was your choice to leave him, I don’t think he would follow you. He would let you go,” Kun offered. “We have more ships. I would go with you, personally guarantee your safety.”

“Do Galarii have religion?” You avoided answering his question, the intensity of his gaze, looking up at whatever was creating false light in the cavern, unable to pinpoint its exact origin past the hazy glow above you. “Jungwoo never mentioned any sort of religious figure, or prayed or anything when he was injured… That’s kind of when humans would’ve. Prayed for their God to give them strength.”

He took your conversation shift in stride, “We have enduring superstitions, traditions, but no sort of organized religion, no.”

“So this imprinting, it’s not any sort of divine plan, or divine will? To you all? It just… is?”

“One of the superstitions we do have is that of the finder’s intuition.”

“What’s that?”

“If you’ve found something, whether you realize it or not, you found it for a reason.”

“Jungwoo said something kind of like that about imprinting,” you recalled. “He said that humans choose their partners, but Galarii find them.”

“Yes. So for him to have been in that ship in the first place, which was not his, so far from home, and crashed due to circumstances outside of his control, on your planet, only to meet you, and it just happens that he imprints on you…”

“I found him.” You let out a choked laugh, covering your face at the insanity of it all. Of course Jungwoo had no reason to doubt why he had imprinted on you. You practically told him it was meant to be without even realizing it.

“I’m sorry?” Kun obviously had no context as for why you were laughing.

“I found his ship after he crashed and pulled him out of it. I found him,” you were still laughing as you explained, wiping at a stray tear that eked out. You didn’t know if it was from humor or misery at this point. “I literally told him ‘finders keepers’ talking about why he was staying at my apartment.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Oh…”

“Why was Jungwoo… so bad? When I brought him back?” You still needed some kind of answer. “You made it sound like you weren’t going to be able to help him at all.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No.” You answered immediately. It was the same thing that made you get into his ship when it was taking off. Not imprinting, and not love… yet.

“I thought he was dying of a failed imprint,” Kun answered without hesitation.

“He can die from that?! And you were going to just let me leave?! Not just that, personally escort me out of the galaxy?! He’s your brother!” You shot to your feet, once again in utter disbelief at the conversation you were having.

“I never believed that you wanted to leave,” Kun replied simply. “I understand this is not entirely fair to you. But I do believe that you should understand the gravity of your situation. Again, he seems to be fine now.”

You ran a hand through your hair. “I mean—What the hell?! If we were to even like, be together in the future, if we had a fight he could die?! That’s fucking crazy!”

“No,” he reassured you. “The initial phases of an imprint are the rockiest. If it doesn’t take, a Galarii can die.”

“What causes it to… not… take?”

“Emotional turmoil, physical distance from the person they imprinted on, stress, any number of things.”

“But he’s fine now? You said he’s fine now?” You double-checked.

“Yes.”

“So it… took?”

“I believe so.”

“Okay, good.” You let out a sigh of relief.

Kun looked conflicted as he added, “I have a confession.”

You blinked at him. “…What now?”

“The injection I gave you, it wasn’t just for you,” he admitted. “I of course didn’t want you to be in pain, but for Galarii that have imprinted on non-Galarii, it’s been known for their physiology to sometimes mimic their non-Galarii partners. Johnny described to me how Jungwoo healed while on Earth and reacted differently to substances than he would have on Galaria. More human-like, from my understanding. And when he returned with a human…”

“That made you suspect that he had imprinted on me,” you finished. “But you injected me, not Jungwoo—And Jungwoo hates needles, and always knows where I am, so you thought he would’ve sensed me being in danger in his coma and woken up to protect me? Is that even how this thing works?”

“It’s not exact, what Jungwoo can sense… I doubt if I even injected you now, that he would know. Just, the feeling that something wasn’t right. An instinctual need to check on you.” Kun rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his ears flushing red. “I wasn’t sure if he had told you, and if I was wrong about the imprint, that would’ve been—”

“A horrible situation for all of us to be in, yeah, I understand.” You stared out at the water, thinking about how the one that you were in didn’t seem much better in that moment.

“You two have both been through a lot. I’m sure you’ll come to understand each other.” The Galarii stood up. “I’m going to check on my brother. Take your time, Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Dejun found you by the water again later in the day. He was carrying a tray of food, meaning that it must be dinnertime already. You hadn’t budged from your spot after your conversation with Kun earlier, thinking way too much about everything.

“Dejun, hey.” You held your chin up with the palm of your hand, still staring out at the water. “Nobody’s looking for me, are they?”

You didn’t specify who would be looking for you.

The aide approached, handing you a plate of food. “Jungwoo asked if you’re alright.”

“I wanted to give him and Kun time alone,” you fibbed. “You know, they’re brothers, it’s been a while since they’ve seen each other.”

“Kun had state matters to attend to, he took his dinner to his room.”

“Of course, right.” You nodded. “Dejun, can I ask you something? And feel free to tell me if it’s way too personal by Galarii standards.”

He arched an eyebrow curiously, but acquiesced nevertheless. “Sure.”

“Are you… Have you… imprinted on someone?”

He smiled just the tiniest bit, and shook his head. “No, not yet.”

“Okay, thanks.”

With that, Dejun nodded his head politely and took leave of the room. You could only eat a couple bites of the food before you let out a deep sigh and stood up. You found your way back to Jungwoo’s room easily, knocking at the open doorway hesitantly. He was sitting at the table eating, and you were happy to see that he was well enough to get out of bed.

Jungwoo looked over from his food, sitting up straighter when he saw that it was you. “Y/N.”

“Hey.” You gestured to the table with your full plate of food. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not.” He motioned to the chair across from him hurriedly.

You sat down, studying him under the lights as he went back to eating. “You look a lot better. Your iridophores… You look better.”

“Thanks.” He wiped his mouth. “I’m sorry for getting so upset earlier. I could’ve expressed my concerns in a more… productive way.”

“You just woke up from a coma, it’s understandable you weren’t all there,” you replied graciously. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for making sure I got back safe,” he said strongly, putting a hand on your forearm. “Kun told me what he knows, and I believe I’d be dead without you. Their sensors recognized that something that wasn’t Galarii had landed on the planet without permission, so they went out to investigate and found us. We landed in a snowstorm, and I was unconscious. If you weren’t with me, not only would they not have found us at all, but I would’ve frozen to death out there.”

“I was why you were dying in the first place, though,” you pointed out. He seemed to be at a loss for words, and you added, “You should have told me, Jungwoo. Back on Earth, you should’ve told me what was going on.”

“You’re right. You kept talking about wanting me to leave with good memories of Earth, I wanted to do the same, leave you with only good memories of me.”

“If you had really left me like that, I would’ve been worried sick for the rest of my life not knowing what happened to you,” you told him harshly. “And now that I know that you apparently were doing that knowing that you were just going to die… I don’t get it. I don’t get you, and I’m really trying to.”

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. You’re not so… careless. I don’t know how I could have ever thought that.”

You took another bite of food, listening to the sounds of both your breaths in the quiet air. “Could you hear me? When you were out? I-I was talking to you, I couldn’t do anything else, and it’s supposed to help humans who are in comas, so…”

“Nothing in particular, at least not that I can remember now.” Jungwoo shook his head, but there was still a pleased smile on his face. “But I don’t doubt that having you nearby helped.”

“So you also don’t know why you woke up?” You asked tepidly. “It wasn’t a… choice somehow?”

“I remember being on the ship on Earth with you, and then I woke up here. Everything in between… I don’t recall.”

“That’s okay.” You both had finished your meals, and you stood up from the table. “I should let you rest some more.”

Jungwoo surprisingly agreed to this, the exhaustion visible in his features. “I wish we could talk more…”

“Tomorrow,” you promised, offering your hand out for him to take. “We can eat breakfast together again.”

He stood up on shaky feet, and you shuffled back over to the bed with him, helping him back under the covers.

“Could you sit with me? Until I go to sleep?” He requested, gently grasping your hand.

“Of course.” You sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing a few stray pieces of hair out of his eyes.

“Your hands are even colder on Galaria, I think,” he commented, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Well shit, maybe it’s the frozen tundra outside,” you retorted.

“I… don’t mind…” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Sleep well, Jungwoo,” you murmured, stroking your thumb over the back of his hand.

You ate breakfast with Jungwoo as promised, happy to take part in this one little thing with him again.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, sitting with him at the table. He was already there with two places set when you entered.

“Better than yesterday, not as good as tomorrow,” he told you brightly. “How did you sleep?”

“Good, good.” You continued watching him carefully as he ate. “You really feel better?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then do you think… do you think it took?” You pushed some food around on your plate awkwardly. “Would you even know that?”

Jungwoo set his utensil down, easing back in his chair slowly. “Yes, I think it took. How does that make you feel?”

“I’m happy you’re okay,” you answered honestly. “The rest… Like I said, I’m trying to understand you, but I just don’t get it.”

“Ask me anything you’d like. Please.”

“I mean, doesn’t it seem unfair? That I’m apparently your soulmate, but you’re not mine?”

“Unfair to who? You or me?”

You faltered. “What?”

“I do understand how this would seem unfair to you—That I know that you’re my soulmate, but you don’t have that certainty about me,” he shook his head sorrowfully. “Yes, that must be terrible.”

“No, I meant unfair to you. You’re stuck with me. You don’t get a choice. But I do, I don’t have that sort of obligation to you,” you pointed out, shifting forward in your chair. “Doesn’t that make you… anxious?”

“Ah, I get it now.” Jungwoo nodded, a thoughtful look on his face as he too sat up. “Galarii find, humans pick. I wouldn’t want to take that choice away from you. I… understand now, how important it is to you. So, if you do pick me, that’ll be the happiest day of my life. And every day after that that you wake up and pick me again, will be the new happiest day of my life.”

He held his hand out on the tabletop between the two of you, palm up, a soft smile on his face as he looked at you. Not urging, not impatient. You knew he would withdraw it if you turned away.

“You’re really…” You kept looking between him and his hand, keeping your tone curious. “Finding was good enough for you?”

“Good enough?” He chuckled, not derisively but fondly. “It was even better than I imagined.”

“You were half-dead, when I pulled you out of that ship,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, I was.”

“Galarii find, humans pick,” you repeated. “Just like you wouldn’t want to take my choice away from me, it would be wrong to force a choice like that onto you… But isn’t inaction just as much of a decision?”

Jungwoo’s smile only grew. “If it is, it’s one that I already made. I hope you can respect that, just as I’ll respect whatever you choose to do.”

You placed your hand atop his, offering him a hesitant smile. “This is me choosing to try this out. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” He squeezed your hand gently. “Thank you. Once I’m better I’ll take you home and take you on real dates there. I promise.”

“So Galarii date too? I thought you guys would’ve just gone straight to moving in,” you joked, taking a bite of your food.

“No. I watched movies with Taeyong and Doyoung,” he explained. “Galarii spend quality time with their mate, yes, but the concept of going on ‘dates’ like humans to figure out if you’re compatible… we don’t have anything quite like that.”

“Of course those two took you to some sappy romantic movies,” you snickered. “I don’t need any big romantic public gestures, Jungwoo. Falling out of the sky and almost dying twice was plenty, I swear.”

“Your friends all said something similar.”

“They were giving you tips on how to flirt with me?”

“Yes. It seemed they were aware that I cared for you in some way…”

You burst out laughing, covering your face in embarrassment. “Oh God, I’m so sorry about them. Forget everything they said, whatever it was.”

“So, carnations aren’t your favorite flower?”

“Hold on, that’s real advice, who told you that?”

“Taeyong.”

“Okay, you can trust whatever Taeyong told you, and probably Doyoung, and maybe Jaehyun,” you counted them off on your fingers. “But forget everything that anybody else told you.”

“I will,” he agreed with a chuckle. “Some of it didn’t seem like very sound advice anyway.”

A couple days later, and Jungwoo was well enough to leave his room finally. The two of you walked around the house arm in arm, chatting about this or that.

“This is the longest I’ve been on Galaria in quite some time,” he mused.

“Kun said that you don’t stay for very long, so you don’t have your own place,” you said. “Don’t you get lonely? Not being around your friends or family?”

“Have you seen either of us have any visitors while you’ve been here? Aside from Dejun?”

“Well, no.”

“We don’t see other Galarii much during snow season,” he explained. “It’s less lonely out doing runs, actually. Interacting with customers, going to markets, busy cities… crash-landing on planets and being pulled from the wreckage by a beautiful human and her friends.”

“Smooth,” you giggled, bumping your shoulder into his as he smiled down at you. “But seriously, you guys don’t have tunnels connecting your homes or something?”

“Galaria’s crust is very thin compared to other rocky planets. We wouldn’t have the depth to build an elaborate system like that. At least not a very efficient one. Any transport that happens needs to be on the surface.”

“How do you all communicate during snow season then? Do you have phones too?”

“We have similar communication devices, yes.”

“How long is snow season?”

“Approximately half a Galarian year.”

You looked up at him curiously. “So what do you call the other half of the year, then?”

“We have two more seasons: Snowmelt, and newgreen.”

“I think I can guess what happens in each of those…” You joked.

“Do tell.”

“I think the snow melts, and then new green stuff grows.”

He chuckled fondly. “That’s the basics, yes.”

“But do you not have something between newgreen and snow season? Like a-a fall of some kind?” You were having a hard time wrapping your head around it. “We have four seasons for the most part: Spring, everything grows, kind of like newgreen I think; then in summer, it gets hotter but pretty much everything stays alive; then in fall it starts getter colder and things start dying off; then we have winter, and everything is dead or hibernating. Then it’s spring again and everything starts all over.”

Jungwoo listened with interest to your explanation before answering. “Snow season comes very rapidly each year. All the plants freeze at once in the first blizzard. There’s no time for a gradual decay like you’ve described.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you able to predict when the first blizzard is? Do you have like, meteorologists or something?”

“Yes, we’re able to narrow it down rather precisely and prepare.”

“And do most Galarii live alone like Kun?” You asked quietly. “I feel like if I was going to be stuck underground for half the year, unable to visit anybody, I might live with more than just one or two people.”

Jungwoo put a finger over his mouth, then nodded towards his room that the two of you had unwittingly looped back around to. He shut the door behind you, and you sat at the table together before he continued with your conversation, “Do you remember how I said my brother is controversial, not for any policies, but for something in his personal life?”

It felt like a lifetime ago, the first conversation you ever had. You nodded. “Yes.”

“Kun is very dedicated to his job.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“He doesn’t take many breaks, or attend social functions that are not required by his job, or, as you’ve pointed out, live with anybody except his aide and me, sometimes. Galarii typically do live in larger social centers during snow season. There’re no tunnels connecting these niches to each other, like I said before, but some can fit up to twenty or thirty people.”

“And you, Kun, and Dejun just have your own house,” you reiterated. “How would that make him so controversial that somebody would want to kill him?”

“Some Galarii see him as isolationist. Refusing to allow opportunities to find things. They believe it reflects poorly on his ability to lead.”

Your face screwed up with confusion. “But if you’re looking to find something, that’s no longer serendipity, that’s choice. That’s action. I thought the whole point was the inaction. Of you finding something when you weren’t looking?”

“Galarii have different interpretations of finder’s intuition, and what it means to ‘find’ something,” he sighed. “It’s a very small minority that see this as a flaw of his, but those that do feel very strongly about it.”

“Strong enough to try to kill him?” You felt like you were losing your mind trying to comprehend this.

“Apparently.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose before giving up. “You know what? Humans have definitely killed for much less; I don’t have any ground to stand on here.”

“That reminds me—I believe I’ll be well enough to take you home in two more days. I’m excited to show you my ship.”

“Really?” You focused him with a doubtful gaze. “I don’t want you pushing yourself for my sake, Jungwoo. I can wait.”

“Thank you. I assure you I’m being sincere. If I’m not at my best, that can pose a hazard to your safety.”

You sighed and put your head on his shoulder. “While I wish the reasons were a little more concerned for your wellbeing too, I appreciate the honesty.”

Jungwoo gently rested his head against yours. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Wanting me to live,” he said softly. “When you found me on Earth, when you brought me back to Galaria… Thank you.”

You picked your head back up to look at him incredulously. “What? Why would I want anything else? Why would I want you to die?”

“It’s very rare for Galarii to imprint on other species. And those who do, there haven’t been very many that take…”

“They died?”

“Yes.” He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with the material over his lap. “It’s even a common subject of Galarian stories. It’s… tragically romantic, to die so your mate can be happy with whoever they’re really in love with.”

You could feel the deep frown on your face as you listened to this. “But those are just stories. Characters live or die to explore narrative themes and emotions and societal concepts, not to be an example for real life.”

Jungwoo chuckled lightly, tracing a fingertip over one of the lines on your forehead, encouraging you to relax your face again. “That’s why I’m thanking you. You chose a different fate for me than the one I had accepted.”

“What did I say before, hm? Finders keepers,” you declared, grabbing his other hand. “You’re not going to die as long as I have something to say about it.”

“Immortality here I come,” he joked, caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers, then even lower, your jawline, your neck, until he picked up the transcoder from where it rested on your chest. He stared at it in wonder, as if it wasn’t his own piece of technology.

“You don’t mind, right?” You looked down at the pendant as well. “That I took your transcoder? I figured it would be easier for me to wear one than expect everyone else to…”

“No, of course not.” He dropped the jewelry again. “I’m just… very happy that it works for you.”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“They have to be specially made for the Galarii who is going to wear it. Galarii can’t borrow each other’s transcoders.”

“Does it have something to do with the telepathy?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “I’ve never seen someone be able to wear someone else’s transcoder successfully.”

“Not even Galarii that imprint on each other?” You asked curiously, habitually gracing your own fingertips over the device.

“No, not even then.”

“Maybe it’s a human thing.”

“Maybe,” Jungwoo hummed noncommittally.

Two Galarian days later, and you and Jungwoo were ready to go back to Earth.

“Thank you so much, Kun,” you hugged your host goodbye. “Please stay safe.”

He looked confused as he released you from the hug. “Aren’t I supposed to be telling you that?”

You patted his arm. “I mean it.”

“Very well,” he relented with a smile. “Thank you, and the same for you.”

After you and Dejun had exchanged your goodbyes, you saw that Kun and Jungwoo were still embracing, and stood off to the side to wait patiently. Kun seemed to be half-hugging and half-lecturing Jungwoo, cuffing him by the ear to pull him down to his height as he spoke on and on seriously, and Jungwoo nodded or gave a joking whine every so often.

“Kun’s older,” you leaned over to whisper to Dejun.

“You’re guessing?” The aide whispered back.

“You can call it a hunch, yeah.”

Finally, Kun let Jungwoo go, and he straightened up, fixing his clothes with the help of his brother. You and Jungwoo didn’t have very much in terms of luggage to take—Jungwoo kept his personal belongings on his ship, and you came with nothing but your clothes and your phone. Kun and Dejun had given you more appropriate outer layers for the tundra outside, as well as food and supplies for the flight back to Earth, but really your only souvenir was your now extraterrestrially-modified cellphone.

“Ready?” Jungwoo asked you, carrying the small knapsack of supplies on his back.

You pulled your goggles down over your face and gave him the best thumbs-up you could with the thick gloves you had on. “Ready!”

You caught just a glimpse of his eyes crinkling with a smile before he too put his goggles on. Jungwoo clasped your hand as Dejun reached out towards the smooth face of the front door. This time you were able to properly see as he touched his necklace to a small panel that reminded you of the buttons on their spaceships, and a small yellow glow emanated from where they connected. Then, the door slid aside, into the cavern wall. You and Jungwoo stepped out together, the door shutting silently behind you.

Keeping a tight hold to Jungwoo’s hand and arm, you followed him through the snow that had continued building up. There was none actively falling now, giving you a much clearer view of the lilac expanse above. Despite the sameness of the landscape, Jungwoo seemed to know exactly where he was going. You didn’t realize you had arrived anywhere specific until Jungwoo suddenly stopped at one specific hill, brushing aside some snow on a post. You couldn’t read the writing on it, but he seemed satisfied, pulling it down. A small hatch opened in the snow in front of you, and he quickly ushered you over to it. Gesturing for you to wait a moment, he dropped the pack down first, then climbed down after it. From the bottom, he waved you down. You slowly started lowering yourself down as well, Jungwoo waiting right there for you.

Buried under who knows how much snow, your eyes had to acclimate to the darkness again. You had found yourself in the rear of Jungwoo’s ship, and he closed the hatch back up after you before pulling you towards the cockpit at the front. It was a two-seater like the one that he had borrowed from Kun, but you could immediately tell there was a lot more of a personal touch to this one. It was sleeker, the controls looking newer than the other, and you saw the occasional knickknack, notepad, or even piece of clothing strewn about the cockpit. He moved a jacket that had been hanging off the co-pilot seat then gestured to it for you.

You sat down as Jungwoo started preparing the ship for takeoff, still thinking about the mounds of snow atop you. Taking your goggles and mask off like he had, you asked, “What about all the snow?”

“The energy generated from the ship’s reactors melts it by the time we take off,” he explained, continuing to flip switches and push buttons.

“Wow.” You watched him work with a practiced ease and focus.

Finally, he turned back around to you, leaning in close as he dug around in the seat for your seatbelt. He grinned as he buckled it up and tightened it for you. “Can’t forget—Precious cargo.”

You just shook your head and smiled as he laughed and sat in his own seat. After getting himself situated, you two were ready for takeoff.

Jungwoo looked over at you, offering his hand out to you. “Ready?”

You grabbed it, squeezing it tightly as you nodded. “Ready.”

“Let’s go!” He cheered, joyfully slamming his hand down on a button. A countdown started on the monitors and from the speakers, and this time you could understand the announcement. It counted down from 10, and on 1, the reactors changed from a thrum to a full-on blast, and like when you took off from Earth, the ground lurched out from under you again. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when you left Galaria, though, only when the reactors cooled back down to a hum.

You looked back over to Jungwoo expectantly. He unbuckled himself, a bright grin on his face. “We’re out of Galarian space.”

“Cool,” you breathed out, looking around the ship with wide eyes.

The Galarii started unbuckling you as well, pulling you to your feet. “Come on, I’ve got to show you around my ship!”

Maybe it was because you were in a different ship, maybe it was because you were no longer fearing for Jungwoo’s life, you couldn’t be sure, but the trip back to Earth felt a lot shorter than the trip to Galaria. This time, you directed Jungwoo to land on Johnny’s family farm just outside the city. Johnny’s parents were older and no longer kept livestock in one of the barns on the property, making it the perfect place to hide Jungwoo’s ship while it was there.

It was nighttime when you arrived, and Jungwoo effortlessly landed in the far-off field that you had been to many times when visiting Johnny’s grandparents growing up. He maneuvered into the open barn, and you were buzzing with excitement as he powered down the ship.

This time, he let you exit the hatch first, and you looked around eagerly, immediately spotting your two friends by the now-closed doors. You waved to Johnny and Jaehyun, sliding off the side of the ship to land easily on both feet.

“Johnny!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms around him first.

“Y/N, oh my God,” Johnny breathed out, crushing you to him so tightly the air was knocked from your lungs. “God damn it, kid, don’t do that again. Okay?”

“Okay, okay,” you coughed out your agreement, rubbing his back reassuringly.

“You’re late, you know that?” He continued scolding you even as he cradled the back of your head. “You said five days, we’ve been waiting here for two more days. I tried to call.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I tried to guess as best I could. The days must be more different than I thought,” you mumbled into his shirt. “My phone died when we were coming back. I’m sorry for worrying you. Thank you for waiting, John. Thank you.”

When he finally let you go, you were grabbed in a bear hug by Jaehyun. “I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N. We both are.”

“Thanks, Jae,” you let out a sigh of relief at being able to breathe a little better. “I missed you guys.”

“How are you doing, Jungwoo?” Jaehyun turned to the Galarii next. “Johnny said it sounded pretty bad, but you’re looking alright to me.”

Jungwoo nodded, the transcoder now dangling from his neck. “I’m healed now. Thank you, Jaehyun.”

“Good to hear, dude.” Jaehyun hugged him too. “Good to hear.”

“Thanks, Jungwoo.” Johnny offered his hand out for Jungwoo to shake. “I’m glad you pulled through. Really.”

“What did you tell your parents?” You asked Johnny nervously. “About the barn?”

“I said one of my friends was going to keep a boat here for a few days. Their knees aren’t good enough to come all the way out here, they won’t come looking.” He then looked at you pointedly, “You should make an appearance, Y/N. While you’re here.”

“Are they up now?”

He looked at his watch. “Yeah. Your parents are actually over right now.”

You grimaced. “Really?”

“Really.”

“So I get back from my destination bachelorette trip that I didn’t bother telling them about and have enough time to help move a boat into storage but not see my parents—Daughter of the year,” you muttered regretfully.

“You did this to yourself, kid.” Johnny patted you on the head.

“I know, I know.”

Entering the Suhs’ living room where your parents were playing a game of cards, you went around to give everyone hellos, your parents first, then Johnny’s. Jungwoo was introduced as a friend of Johnny and Jaehyun’s, and lingered in the darkness by the doorway. Jaehyun had provided him a ballcap to help hide his iridophores in the shadows as much as he could as you tried to keep your conversations with your families short and quaint.

“When did you get back, Y/N?” Your mom asked.

“Earlier today—It’s been crazy, sorry I didn’t text you, Mom,” you immediately apologized, kissing her head quickly.

“We picked Y/N up from the airport and got distracted with the boat,” Jaehyun rescued you, flashing a charmingly dimpled smile at the parents. “Our bad, sorry, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Who is getting married?”

“Uhm, Chaeyoung.” You quickly picked a friend that you had met in college to guarantee that your mom didn’t know their parents and therefore wouldn’t try to congratulate anybody behind your back.

She nodded. “Ahh…”

“Whose boat did you say it was, Johnny?” Mr. Suh questioned his son next. “It’s not Yuta’s, is it?”

“Oh, he’s been talking about getting one since high school, hasn’t he?” Johnny’s mom laughed.

“Yep, it’s his,” Johnny nodded along.

Your dad appraised the four of you. “And he couldn’t even help you all?”

“Well, it’s mine too,” Jaehyun once again came in for the save. “We went in halfsies on it after my promotion. He was busy tonight, so I just went ahead and moved it.”

“Jungwoo, isn’t it?” Mr. Suh called out to the Galarii.

“Yes, sir.” He hastily gave a polite bow, fidgeting with the ballcap under the older man’s gaze.

“How did you get roped into their three-ring circus?”

“Yes, it’s better to stay out of the line of fire, especially where our kids are concerned,” your dad chuckled.

“I don’t mind helping, really,” Jungwoo replied, gaze hesitantly skittering over to you. You gave him an encouraging smile.

Johnny’s mom patted your cheek then. “I’m sure our Y/N must be tired after that trip. We’ll let you all go.”

“Thank you, Auntie,” you said appreciatively, giving her a kiss on the cheek as well as you tried to escape with the other guys.

Before you could fully retreat from the room, however, your mom caught your hand. The two mothers exchanged a look as they gestured for you to stoop down to their level. You obliged.

“Keep an eye on that new one, sweetie,” Mrs. Suh rather obviously pointed to Jungwoo even as she whispered.

“He couldn’t take his eyes off you this whole time,” your mom added, just as hushed as her friend.

“Goodbye, Auntie.” you purposefully ignored their statements, giving them final hugs and kisses goodbye. “Goodbye, Mom.”

As the four of you walked from the front door to Johnny’s waiting car far down the dirt driveway, Jungwoo sidled up to you.

“May I uh… May I know what that was about?” He asked quietly. “When they pointed at me?”

You giggled, stopping to pull on his shoulder and bring his ear down to you. “They were warning me about you. Said you couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

Jungwoo chuckled breathily. “An acute observation.”

“They said I should keep an eye on you.”

“That makes me sound dangerous.”

“Well—”

“Hey!” Johnny called out from the end of the drive, standing at his car and spinning his keys around his finger. “Are you done?”

“I’ve got class tomorrow!” Jaehyun added, though the teasing was apparent in his tone.

“Coming!” You chirped back, starting down the driveway again.

Johnny easily navigated back to your apartment, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel to the melody playing over his speakers. He finally broke the peaceful quiet in the car as your building was approaching.

“So how long are my parents going to be housing the boat?” He asked dryly.

“Oh, uhm,” you and Jungwoo looked at each other uncertainly. “I’m not sure yet. A few days, maybe more. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine. Just let me know when he’s going back.”

“Right. Yeah.”

He put the car in park and got out to give you one more hug on the sidewalk in front of your building. Your friend let out a deep breath with you still in his arms. “I’m really glad you’re back, Y/N. I’m serious.”

“I know, John,” you replied, hugging him back. “Thank you.”

Waving to Jaehyun through the window, you and Jungwoo headed inside. Thankfully, you hadn’t missed your rent payment while you were gone, so you still had an apartment to go back to. Looking at the day on your phone, you realized that you’d normally have work tomorrow.

“I wonder if I’ve been fired,” you snickered to yourself, closing your front door behind Jungwoo. He looked back at you, clearly worried, but you waved his concern off. “I hated that job anyway.”

The Galarii peered out past your curtains at the full moon in the sky. “It’s late. You should get some rest.”

“I’m not tired,” you admitted. “I think Galarian days are longer or something.”

“Do you remember what you were going to say? In the driveway at Johnny’s parents’ home?”

“Hm? Oh, when you were asking me about what our moms said?” You stretched your arms above your head. “You were confused because they made your interest in me sound dangerous. You almost died because of it, why are you confused about that?”

“I understand how it can be dangerous to me, but that doesn’t happen to you.” He stepped closer to you, cocking his head in confusion.

You sat down on your couch, gesturing for him to sit with you. “To humans, it still can be. Falling in love with the wrong person, exposing yourself like that. It can get you hurt, physically or emotionally. Sometimes they’re a bad person, or sometimes you’re both good people with the right intentions, but it still goes wrong.”

Jungwoo’s eyes widened. “And you still choose to do this? Over and over?”

“Yes, we do,” you laughed. “What other choice do we have?”

In the late afternoon, after you and Jungwoo had finally woken up and eaten breakfast, you went out for a walk at the seaside. Taking a deep breath in, you reveled in the feeling of the warm rays of sun on your skin again.

“Look at that blue sky,” you beamed up appreciatively. “Actually, I think I’m just happy to see any sky again.”

“Really?” Jungwoo prompted you.

“After being underground for so long? Yeah, being in a wide-open space feels good.” You did a big spin with your arms open. The beach was relatively empty in the middle of the week with most everyone at work. “Don’t get me wrong, it was cool to see where you’re from.”

“I like it here too,” he agreed with a smile as you returned to his side, lacing your fingers with his.

“The guys want to get dinner later, by the way,” you informed him. “They’re also happy you’re not dead.”

“That’s kind of them.”

Up ahead was a familiar area of damaged palm trees and brush, slowly beginning to grow back. You pointed to it with a grin, “Look, it’s where we met.”

Jungwoo squinted against the sun, looking at the foliage with interest. “It is?”

“Yep. Looks a bit different in the daytime, huh? And without a spaceship in it?”

“And I don’t think we ever approached it from this side.”

“And there’s no cops.” You pointed out a nearby firepit as you passed it. “That’s where we were all hanging out when you crashed. We thought you were a shooting star at first. Hyuck told everyone to make a wish.”

“Is that a human custom?”

“Superstition, yeah. You’re supposed to make a wish on a shooting star.”

“What did you wish for?”

You grinned. “If you tell, your wish isn’t going to come true.”

“Ah, I see. My apologies.”

“But mine already came true, so there’s no harm in saying, I think.”

Jungwoo looked at you curiously as you continued.

“I wished for something interesting to happen,” you admitted with a knowing smirk. “And the interesting things haven’t stopped since.”

He burst into laughter, halting your leisurely stroll as he clutched his stomach. “S-Seriously?”

“Seriously.” You began listing them off on your fingers, “Alien spaceship crashing right next to us, alien inside spaceship being almost dead, alien declaring I’m his soulmate, alien almost dying again, going to alien’s home planet to keep him from dying, alien getting better and taking me back to Earth. Been pretty interesting.”

He was still laughing, squatting down to try to compose himself.

“So maybe it wasn’t an assassination attempt that made you crash,” you said humorously. “Maybe it was my super powerful wish.”

“But-But I was already crashing when you made that wish,” he pointed out through giggles. “You used my-my crashing spaceship to make your wish.”

“Ah, technicalities.”

Jungwoo stood up on shaky feet, and you offered him your hand to steady him. “I’m starting to think that human choice is a more powerful force than gravity.”

“Really?”

“Or at least your choices.”

You sighed, grabbing his face with two hands to look him in the eye. “Jungwoo, you can’t just say shit like that.”

“Why not?” He asked, eyes carefully watching your expression.

“Because you just called me a cosmic force and that’s definitely the most romantic thing anybody’s ever said to me.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Because it makes me want to kiss you stupid on this public beach.”

His breaths trembled in the space between you. “There’s nobody here.”

“You make some good points.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, stopping before your lips met. “Jungwoo.”

“Hm?” His hands had settled on your waist, where they had been when you were dancing together.

“Is this okay? Can I kiss you?”

He swallowed, his eyes on yours as he hurriedly nodded. “Yes.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, slotting your mouths together finally. Jungwoo let out a hum of delight in the back of his throat, the curl at the corner of his lip apparent. His smile only continued to grow with each passing moment as you made good on your promise, bringing a hand around to cup his cheek.

When you dropped back onto flat feet again, he was standing there with a dazed, content smile on his face. His iridophores were no longer just glinting in the sun, they were fully pulsing with a soft, glowing light from under his skin, like a little heartbeat. You reached a hand up towards his cheek, and he stayed still as you traced over them in fascination. After a few moments, the glow faded away, and they were back to their normal reflective state.

“What was that?” You whispered breathlessly. “Are you okay—”

“I’m great,” he promised, taking one of your hands and kissing the back of it. “They’ll do that sometimes. When I’m really happy.”

“God, okay,” you relaxed. “It was like I really did have a fallen star in my hands.”

“If you say something romantic back, does that mean I get to kiss you stupid?”

“This is a concerning precedent I’ve set, isn’t it?”

“It’d only be fair.” He pouted.

You looked around, finding the beach still vacant of other patrons. “Alright, alright.”

After getting dinner with your friends, you and Jungwoo declined any rides offered, taking the long way back to your apartment.

“The guys were happy to hang out with you again,” you said brightly.

“Yes, it was nice to see them all,” Jungwoo replied.

“I can’t believe Hyuck asked you if you had tentacles though, honestly,” you shook your head. “He needs to keep that between him and incognito mode.”

“I take it he wasn’t being scientifically rigorous?”

You snorted, “No.”

You looked up at the navy blue sky, dotted with so few stars.

“What does the night sky look like on Galaria?” You asked Jungwoo. “I didn’t see it while we were there.”

“Many more stars,” he answered quietly. “I think because we don’t have any permanent light fixtures on our surface.”

“Ah, no light pollution. Must be nice.”

“It is.”

There was a comfortable lull in conversation, cars passing by and the distant sounds of city life continuing around you.

“You said once that you wouldn’t be happy behind a desk now that you knew that aliens existed,” Jungwoo recalled. “Since you’ve been to space and have come back home… Do you feel the same? Do you want to stay here?”

You tilted your head back and forth as you thought, still looking up at the stars. Finally, you answered, “While I was on Galaria, I needed to come home, to make sure everyone knew I was okay. And now that I’ve done that, I keep thinking about what we could’ve done on that trip if you hadn’t been, you know, dying.”

His voice was guarded as he prompted, “So you…”

“So if you’re asking me to come with you, Jungwoo, the answer is yes.” You looked over at him knowingly.

“Oh!” His iridophores were glowing again as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, vibrating with energy. “There’s so many places I can take you! You’ll love Irwon, and the lagoons in Til-Wyn, and I need to check that the Nightbringer’s Festival hasn’t happened yet!”

“Sounds like a date,” you grinned, hugging him back. “Several, actually.”

“And we’ll come back to Earth whenever you want. Say the word, and we’ll come right back for you to stay and see your loved ones for as long as you wish.”

“Thank you.” You took his hands as he let you go, catching his eye to tell him sincerely, “And I want to learn Galarii, too. So we can actually communicate, without one of us wearing your transcoder. Even if I speak with a silly human accent because I’m missing a flap or whatever.”

On top of the pulsing iridophores, you saw Jungwoo’s eyes get misty, a tear spilling over on one cheek as he was absolutely beaming down at you.

“Jungwoo are you crying?” You asked in disbelief, wiping at it with your thumb as another fell from his other eye.

“I think I am, yes,” he nodded, feeling at his damp undereyes.

“Tears of joy, I hope?” You continued dabbing at his cheeks as you tried to comfort him through his apparently bewildering situation.

“Do humans do that?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

He smiled and nodded. “Then yes, that must be it.”

“Oh God, come here.” You pulled him back into your arms. “Seriously, what am I going to do with you?”

He sniffled, then supplemented, “Keep me?”

You giggled and pressed a kiss to cheek, right on his glowing iridophores. “I guess so. Finders keepers, after all.”

⇢ masterlist

TAGLIST

@bee-the-loser @giirlfriendd @ppddpjdr @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01 @tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69 @winkeuu

[queensimp69]

Killer Love (Slasher headcanons x reader)

How Y'all met/their first reaction to you

Billy Loomis   -Movie: Ghost face

The two of you actually met through Stu, at first the two of you were just casual around each other but deep down Billy had this feeling about you he couldn’t get out of his head…It was almost addicting. Soon in his free time he’ll watch you from afar, staring at you with hearts in his eyes. He was going to get you one way or another. He would leave small gifts at your door, flowers, some jewelry, stuffed animals, Anything to please you.

Stu Matcher  -Movie: Ghost face

The two of you met on the first day of school. You have just moved to Woodsboro and Stu was your trusted buddy to show you around school and town! The both of you both had the same humor so you both became close despite Billy’s disapproval (He’s Jelly) It barely been a month and Stu was head over heels for you and was willing to do Anything to make you his permanently. Like Billy he brought you gifts 24/7, anything you wanted or wished for was bought just for you and only you.

Mark Hoffman  -Movie: Saw

You were driving home in your boyfriend's car late one night, everything was going fine but there was a strange car following you. Getting a little uncomfortable you drove to the Police station and sheepishly went inside, hoping you could just hide out there for a while. Mark, being the one of the only cops in the station, asked why you were there, as you explained he looked at the car you drove and realized it was the same car of Jigsaw's latest victim. He gave you a cup of water and went to call off Amanda, telling her about how it was the wrong person and to go to your boyfriend’s apartment. But there was just something about you that made him feel…Warm. He needed to know more of you…No not more… All of you. He put cameras in your house and would watch you for Hours.

Bo Sinclair  -Movie: House of wax

You and your “Friends” were on a road trip, it was meant to be peaceful and fun but as you took a sip of your bottle of water you started to feel light headed… A few hours later you woke up on the side of a road, your clothes were ripped and you were covered with bruises. Sitting up you looked around to see yourself at a gas station, it seemed empty. Suddenly you heard someone yell at you, asking you why on earth you were laying on the ground of their gas station. Looking around you looked at the man, he was a dirty blonde and pretty dirty, as if he was working on a car, roughly 6 '2 and nicely fit. He gave you a helping hand before waiting for you to explain WHY you were at his gas station just laying on the ground. You still dazed and explained your situation, as you talked you saw how his face changed from disgust at your “Friends” to pity. Feeling kind he offered a place to stay for a while and in return you helped around, but in the back of his mind he knew that he was never going to let you Leave as he fully set on claiming you as his… Permanently.

Vincent Sinclair  -Movie: House of wax

(Same situation as Bo But instead on bo liking you he just pity’s you)

As Bo leads you to an empty bedroom He mentions how sometimes his brother would come around and stay in the bedroom next to yours. A few days passed of you staying with Bo but something was odd…You never saw Bo’s brother’s, mainly the one who slept in the room next to yours… You asked Bo about it but he just brushed you off saying it was normal but offered to bring you to him. It was a brief meeting but for Vincent it was forever, He just couldn’t just take his eyes off you! You were the perfect art piece, He would watch you for hours, taking notes and drawing you 24/7 until he ran out of paper.

Lester Sinclair  -Movie: House of wax

(Same situation as Bo But instead on bo liking you he just pity’s you)

As Bo showed you around, the two of you encountered the youngest brother of the Sinclair’s. Quickly Lester got amused and offered to take you off Bo’s hands and drive you around as he was bored. As the two of you drove around, y'all made light conversation, happily talking and cracking jokes but before long Lester realized he had to get back to work on the road :(, feeling a little confected he decided to take you with him as a make up road trip for you! (This one is sweet and not crazy XD)

Brahms heelshire -Movie: The boy

It was pretty simple, you had just moved and needed a place to stay for the time being until you had saved enough money for a house of your own. The many kind people of the town told you to live in the old manor and fix it up and in return they will bring food and stuff as thanks. For the first day you saw a list of rules, thinking nothing of it you followed them as you went along you day, the rules weren’t hard or anything so it wasn’t much of a problem but…You wouldn’t help but constantly feeling eyes on you…As if Somebody was watching you through the walls. (Ya’ll don’t really meet until later on during first impressions 😅)

Thomas Hewitt -Movie: Texas chainsaw massacre

After a few years of saving money you finally were able to move! It took a few months to get a company to do it but they made your home in the middle of state Texas and in front of a pretty white house, After a few days a nice lady knocked on your door with a pie in hand, the two of you talked as you ate the pie together, she talked about a guy named Thomas. After she left around 7pm you finally got really to bed, never realizing the Man who was watching you through the window…Although you didn’t know Thomas or who he looked like, Thomas knew you and adored how you looked in your cute little pajamas.

Michael Myers  -Movie: Halloween

You had just moved right next to the Myer’s house, you didn’t know much about it cause whenever you asked people they never gave a straight answer…Odd. But you didn’t have time to poke any further as it was almost halloween! You happily got your new house all decorated and stocked up on a lot of candy days in advance. Then the day finally came. Filled with joy you happily passed out candy and small toys until you had one piece left. Looking around you saw a tall man in a blue jumpsuit and a white mask standing in front of the Myer’s house, you slightly questioned his costume choice but didn’t think too much of it as you waved him over. He took a few minutes to come over but when he did you happily gave him the last piece of candy saying how lucky he is before saying good night and going back inside. Later that night as you slept you never knew about that same man Standing in the corner of your room watching you as he fell deeper in love with this “Kind” person.

The end! Please tell me if you want more and have a wonderful, horny day :D

[bucknastysbabe]

above is death - b.barnes - the reaper

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Descriptions of dying, Angel of death Bucky, open ending, loopholes to have sex, pnv!sex, dirty talk, time skips, open ending

A/N: this is a repost I am the bitch in question who wrote this

Death followed you around. Literally. You could see the grim reaper. You wished that you were just tripping balls. He had a idiotic nickname. Also he was strangely cheery and grumpy simultaneously. Bucky. You were also in love with him.

You remembered the first time you saw him.

The boy in front of you was coughing and writhing on the ground. You watched in horror as his face turned purple, unable to draw breath. Your classmates screamed and cried, the teacher trying to dislodge the toy in his windpipe to no avail.

A man was standing just outside the circle. He wore a strange blue coat. Swept dark hair and a nice looking face. He stared at the boy and checked his watch. In the midst of the chaos he just stood and waited.

You walked to his side and yanked on a blue sleeve. It was horribly cold to the touch so you ripped your hand away in shock. He jumped and looked down at you, obviously startled. The man growled, “You aren’t supposed to see me.” You didn’t know why he said that. So you asked, “Why not? I see you just fine.”

He raised a brow, mouth agape in confusion.

“You’re very cold and weird, mister.”

The man in blue shook his head and stepped forward to the boy— lifeless in the teachers arms. Sadness twisted your gut at the sight. In a flash another version of your dead classmate was next to the strange figure, who grabbed the boy’s hand. They passed you hand-in-hand.

“Forget you saw anything. Must’ve been a mistake,” he grumbled.

After that first incident, you’d seen the man in blue a two more times. He was even more surprised than you were, getting quite angry about it actually. But you shrugged and told him you had no clue why he was showing up.

By the third occasion you were 13 years old. A girl had been struck by a car after school. There he was at the crosswalk. You deadpanned, “Do I always have to see you at the sites of horrific deaths? What are you, the grim reaper?” He narrowed his eyes in annoyance, full lips in a pout.

“My boss must have fucked this up,” he groused.

“Well, are you the grim reaper or not?”

He rolled his eyes, shoving his big hands into coat pockets. “I’m not the grim reaper, girl.” You frowned at his rude tone and spat, “What are you then? A man dressed in old ass clothes ushering dead people,” you chirped, “An angel!”

The man looked like he was going to take you next before gritting out, “I’m an angel of death. You happy? I got to get this soul to the afterlife now. Bye.” You watched him grab the girl’s hand gently, crossing the rest of the road. He was kind of hot, you thought.

It was a long time before he would make his appearance again but sometimes you swore blue eyes and a matching coat would swirl in your dreams. Life went on. You were bored most of the time, researching about the afterlife for fun. Which didn’t attract many friends.

It was after senior prom. You were dazed on the side of the road, nose bloody and cracked. The boy who had taken you was crumpled behind the wheel— pinched between the car and a tree. He was drunk, so were you, and the other two were either still in the car or flung to the pavement.

Heavy boots crunched in front of your face. Your eyes almost crossed trying to focus on them. The man in blue’s familiar voice sighed, “I thought I was going to have to take you tonight.” Blearily you turned to look up at the twisted angel. He frowned down at you, face ashen.

“C-can you help me up?”

“Yes. But be quick, I don’t wish to rip the soul from your body.”

His icy touch yanked you upright and let go. The skin on your shoulder burned and tingled from the freezing temperature. You slurred, “Need’ta call…the police.” Utter panic and grief was beginning to fill your chest. You looked at him and whimpered, “Please help.”

He kneeled down to you and shook his head, a sad smile on his handsome face. The angel murmured, “That’s not my job. I can’t change fate.” Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you sobbed, “B-but we didn’t mean to! I should’ve called someone, fuck.”

He wiped a tear away, droplet crystallizing, the burn from the cold was less intense on your alcohol flushed cheeks.

He sighed, “You’re a stupid kid. You’ll have to live with it, I’m sorry. The police are on their way.” Your head hung between your legs as you cried. Crickets and the sound of wind echoed around— like nothing ever occurred.

You could hear sirens in the distance. The man in blue stood up. In a raspy crack you asked, “Whas’ your name?” He stilled suddenly, shoulders tightening. The angel of death had the police lights flicker over his sharp cheeks while he said, “James,” his jaw worked over, “Bucky, call me Bucky.”

“Bucky,” you whispered to yourself, shaking even in the humid air of the night.

Life got better after that horrid night. You’d gone to therapy and many court-ordered classes into your freshman year of college. You were getting a degree in history and religion. If the angel of death that frequented your life would show up maybe you could get some answers and make a shit ton of money from it.

You honestly didn’t care if that fell through— something told you that life would likely be a short occurrence.

After your 21st birthday you groggily laid in your dark bedroom. With a groan you flipped over, head aching like hell. Maybe old Bucky would put you out of your misery. Flipping around a couple more times you paused.

Something was off.

You felt a horrid chill in the room and the feeling of someone watching you. Bolting upright with a wince you shouted in fear, “Motherfucker!” The blue angel himself was standing over your bed, an amused smirk on his face.

“What the hell are you doing here? Am I dying?”

He chuckled, leaning against your drawers, “The guy below you will be in about ten minutes. I noticed you were around and wanted to say hello.” You squinted at him in the low light and muttered, “Well hello to you, Bucky the herald of death.”

He grinned rakishly and hummed, “How have you been holding up? It dawned on me how nice it would be to have a living person to talk to. The other angels are boring.” With a grunt he pushed himself up to sit on the drawer.

“Well. I’ve been studying a lot. Last night was my twenty-first and I’m very hungover right now to be honest.” He laughed and inquired, “What’cha studying?”

You told him about the history and religion stuff, even hinting at him spilling the deets for your eventual book. To which he scoffed and flat out said no. After a pointed pause and Bucky checking his watch one more time he asked, “Can I see you again?”

You shrugged. Why not after all? He smiled like a giddy boy and bid goodbye with a salute. Flopping onto the pillows you laughed, “What the actual fuck?”

Bucky was true to his word, visiting quite often. Sometimes he was in a good mood. Other days the angel said he wanted company and nothing more. Spending eternity escorting dead people to the afterlife was not the most cheery affair. When he was in better spirits the man could be a chatterbox, telling stories of other angels and bantering with you on the mortal plane.

You’d grown very fond of him, almost too fond. His presence would grow closer and closer until Bucky was perched on your bed, long legs slung off the side. You’d been wearing warm clothes to combat the chill he emitted. Down deep the yearn for Bucky’s touch intensified by tenfold.

One night you had taken a guy home, a tipsy hook-up and nothing more. You were on your hands and knees, the man drunkenly rutting into your cunt. You almost bit your tongue off when Bucky’s icy blue eyes were directly in your line of sight. A shiver rolled down your spine, nipples peaking almost painfully.

You glared at him, tilting your head for the handsome angel to leave. He pouted and whined, “Really? This guy fucks like a clown.” On a disjointed thrust you gasped, “Uh-huh! Sure.” Bucky tilted his head and a devious smile flitted over his features. He hummed, “Does he feel any good? Bet I could do better than that. Maybe I should possess the idiot and fuck you like you need.”

A warbling whine exited your throat at Bucky’s heated words. You begged, “Oh fuck, please.” His sharp white teeth flashed before your blue angel of death disappeared. Then the drunk pawing stopped, hands gripping your waist tightly. Lips found your ear, cooing, “That’s much better. Shame about his dick size but we can make it work.”

You didn’t want to know what he was wielding if this fling’s already decent sized package wasn’t up to his standards. Bucky— well the flesh bag that was housing him— laved at your neck. You moaned, “He’s, ah, not gonna die, shit! Or anything?”

Bucky laughed, “No, possessing someone is different than me physically making contact. It’s all fucking weird,” he gave an experimental roll of his hips, “Enough questions. Can I fuck my favorite mortal now? I’ve got about an hour.”

You groaned as he pounded into your suddenly sopping cunt. Bucky nipped along the column of your neck, murmuring about ‘how pretty’ you were. In a quick motion he jerked you flush to his chest, laughing darkly. You yelped and writhed around his pulsing cock, overwhelmed with his attentions.

He felt up your tits, tweaking the swollen buds. You turned to the strangers face and imagined it was Bucky’s, pleading, “Kiss me, c’mon Buck, please?” His eyes softened and he took your mouth hotly, tongues immediately into play. His lips massaged your own while sharing eachother.

The lip lock grew messy and slick while he drove into your most sensitive spots. Bucky teased, “That feel good huh? Pretty baby gets a little fuck-dumb,” he took in your glassy eyes with awe, “Betcha’ didn’t know that, just needed someone to treat you right.” All you could do was whine and shiver, desperately licking against stranger’s lips.

He nuzzled into your hair while holding on your waist— hips snapping brutally into your pussy. You wailed in pleasure, meeting his hips in sharp slaps and sharp cries. Bucky ran his mouth to no avail. Just accelerating the breakneck pace to your orgasm.

Wracking with a shiver you whined, “You feel so fucking good, god, don’t stop!” He groaned against your lax lips, “I won’t, not until my baby cums on my cock.” One of the man’s hands snaked to your obscenely swollen clit, drawing circles around the flushed bud. You cried out again, almost jerking away from the intensity if it weren’t for the arm snug around your waist.

He didn’t relent, fingers lazily striking the sensitive nerves. Bucky smirked and teased meanly, hoarse whispers in your ear. Your belly was growing hot, hot, hot and tight. Every nerve ending felt alight from Bucky’s onslaught on your clit and weeping pussy. You whimpered softly, him cooing, “I know babydoll, I know, feels s’good ya’ don’t know up from down. Let it happen.”

When the inevitable coil broke your body seized as pathetic noises left your throat. Bucky cursed and moaned at the feeling of you squeezing his notcock. Big hands rubbed at your waist and the soft skin under your breasts. He lazily rolled his hips through your convulsing and crying, eventually pulling out and spilling on your ass with a broken cry.

You panted raggedly and leaned back against a hard chest. He chuckled, “You good sweetheart?” A dumb shake of your head was all you could manage in return. He stayed in the stranger’s body to hold you, a hand rubbing your hip warmly. His blue eyes scanned you, almost wistful in nature.

You looked up at him and asked, “Think we could keep this up,” you paused, “Whole possessing and having good sex thing?”

Bucky chuckled softly.

You chewed on your lip, nuzzling the stranger’s body, “They don’t remember any of this do they? Then maybe we shouldn’t.”

“It will be like a dream for them. Weird memory or so. So yeah, I think we can keep it up,” he smiled, “I keep my eye on you anyways— I’ll find the time. But I’ve gotta go now.” Before you could speak he was back out in his usual blue form, face pouty. Scrambling towards the edge of the bed you reached out, “A kiss?”

Bucky frowned, blue eyes mournful. He murmured, “Only when it’s your time sweetheart. Gotta use the others. Have a good night.”

You frowned and let him go, flopping back onto the bed with the idiot you’d brought home. He wasn’t your Bucky that’s for sure. More research on angels of death will be your next excursion.

In the meantime you were deep into school, researching, and church of all places. Then fucking Bucky in another man’s form all over the place. On the couch, shower, bathroom stalls, tables in so many different positions. Heavenly.

But the ache to be one with Bucky, James, was growing fervent and strong. It was only a snap until you fucked it up or something. Which you did.

This time you’d brought home some dumb Nordic exchange student named Thor. He had a massive cock and that’s what Bucky requested. On orgasm number three, face shoved into the pillows you cried out, “I love you! James, Bucky- fuck- I love you!”

Then he was gone. Thor was slumped over, snoring. But you’d never felt so alone. Of course he didn’t want you, just needed a fix in his dreary life. You cried silently, apologizing to the void.

A couple of weeks later you sat on a park bench reading Dante’s Inferno. It was sunny and nice, something you needed after the depression from Bucky’s rejection. You flipped a page, wind sifting your hair.

“I want you to myself and I can’t. So I bolted like a coward.”

You whipped to look at Bucky’s handsome face, unbidden tears rising. Your lip jutted as you glared, trying to not cry. Bucky’s brows were pinched and his jaw worked. He mumbled, “I love you. I love you. I love you,” the brunette blinked back tears, “I’m trying to find a way. I am. I’d give up immortality in a heartbeat.”

You pondered over his words, nails digging into your book. Taking a deep breath you grumbled, “Don’t do that to me again. I was so..lost.” He nodded in agony, fingers twitching to console you. Bucky hummed, “I’m talking with my boss soon, maybe you can join me.” He checked his watch with a huff.

You nodded slowly and asked, “Do you want me to walk with you to the site?”

A tear fell down his porcelain cheeks, “Please.”

[h0rnyauth0r]

on a mission with 141, you and ghost are forced to act as a fake couple to gather intel on an important political figure. when he comes out without his mask on and ends up kissing you, there comes a point where neither of you can handle holding back anymore

i'm back from my break for now :) i'm sorry if this isn't that great but i tried so that's all that matters

word count: 2.8k

warnings: semi-public sex, cumming inside, unprotected sex, reader w/ vagina (who uses she/her pronouns to be safe), pussy eating

the whole group has convened inside of a hotel room across from where this big scandal will be occurring. there’s a politician who has made plots with a terrorist group and you’ve been ordered to partner up with one of the many men of 141 to act as a couple to gain entry and find your way inside to get evidence.

soap was the initial choice, but he is well-known within the ranks of this terrorist group as he’s been apart of raids involving them before. actually, all of 141 has. however, a conclusion came about when price suggested that ghost join and participate.

and here you are now, putting on a dress all too formal for you, with a dramatic face of makeup and hair curled loosely. you’re nervous to fuck this mission up as you tuck a gun into the holster you have around your thigh, knife placed safely in the smaller addition.

you’ve done infiltrating before, but this is on a whole other level. your body is tense as you finally make your way back into the room with the rest of 141. “okay, i think i’m ready. how are we gonna do this?” your voice is shaky with nerves, but gaz places his hand on you and gives you a warm smile.

“we’re going to be right with you. just say the code word and we’ll be there.”

“yeah, and ghost is with you too. he’ll take great care of you.”

you nod at the men in the room, inhaling deeply and eventually making your way across the roads and to the grand building. it’s a museum that has a ballroom on the lower floor, used for special occasions such as this one.

you have no idea where ghost is and it’s making you worried sick, standing in this line with one of your fake tickets for entry. you find yourself tapping your foot to the ground repeatedly, an action that has a couple in front of you glaring and scoffing at the noise.

you stop, feeling embarrassed that you’re drawing attention to yourself. “nervous?” you hear a voice behind you, recognizing it as ghost’s. when you turn around, your mouth goes agape and you freeze up at the sight of this foreign man.

a suit that matches in color to yours, gelled hair, and such a handsome face. you’re in awe of the fact that ghost even had a face behind the mask, especially one so handsome.

“simon.” you say softly, holding out your arm for him to grasp onto.

he does, strong arm gripping yours tightly as he pulls your body close to his own. “remember, love, we need to look official. we’re married tonight.” his lips, oh his lips, are right next to your ear as he whispers to you.

your face feels as though flames may burst over your skin as you breathe deeply, nodding at him and facing towards the entrance again. the line’s moved forward a bit, so you opt to continue following until you’re nearing the security guards.

not much time passes before you’re handing your invitation cards over, and your eyes quickly pass over a tattoo on one of the guards’ forearm. the guards are apart of the terror group, you realize from the familiar symbol pressed in red ink.

when you notice that the guard’s noticed you look, you opt to pass off your staring by leaning into ghost’s arm with a giggle. “‘m so excited to be here tonight.” you fake a little slur, noticing the guard’s stiff demeanor go lax as he motions to two of you through.

you even opt to trip a little over your heels to ensure that he thinks you’re already tipsy, which seems to work as the two of you finally walk through the entrance.

“you saw that too, right?” you ask him quietly, pulling him into a hall.

simon nods, “we have to let them know that the security is involved like we thought.”

he presses down on the small button on his suit, speaking lowly into it. “the security is also apart of the terror group. tread carefully once backup is needed.”

you hear footsteps approach and push into his body a little, nerves bubbling up. when a random staff member comes in, he wraps his arm around you and smiles at the worker. “i’m afraid my wife and i are a little confused, we’re trying to join the party.” he says.

the staff person leads the two of you out to the main ballroom, adorned with seating and what looks to be a dancefloor. you aren’t shocked by the classical music playing rather loudly, announcing your fake names with simon for the person to help find your seating arrangements.

once you’re seated, the most boring part begins. more people show up, and then the man you’re investigating does an announcement. it happens to be some bullshit about how he wants nothing more than to help the community. after this, it’s time to finally do some snooping around.

“we should stay together.” simon says, and you nod at him.

as you begin walking around the space of the building, you opt to have some conversation. “what’s this guy up to exactly?” you ask your superior.

“trafficking.”

“oh, guns? drugs?”

“neither, actually. children.”

you decide that asking anymore questions may be pointless as you find a room that has several others inside admiring artworks. “should we look here?” you ask, looking up at him.

he glances down at you with a nod. “could be something useful.”

unfortunately, there’s no evidence of anything suspicious inside of that room. you keep looking around together in different rooms for anything that’s suspicious: a lot of the terrorist members, large groups of people acting shady, anything. but there’s no luck yet.

you start feeling off though, like someone may be following you. you think simon can feel it too with the way his walking becomes more rushed and careful.

“follow my lead. please understand that what i’m going to do is for the sake of the mission.” his voice is soft as he mumbles, leading you into a distant bathroom and shutting the door without locking it.

you look up at him curiously, head tilting the slightest. “what are we doing?” you ask, eyes anxiously looking into his.

he pushes you against a wall, lips immediately crashing into yours in a deep kiss with his hands pulling yours to hook around his neck. you freeze for a moment before reciprocating his touch, leaning into it and even letting out a small moan at the feeling.

his body is pressed into yours, teeth knocking against yours for a moment before moving more comfortably. you can’t tell if this is even for the mission anymore with the way his tongue is invading your mouth and just how hard you can feel him getting in his pants.

however enjoyable this may be for the both of you, it’s cut short.

the door bursts open and you both pull away rather hesitantly, seeing two of the security from earlier backing away from the doorway. “i’m sorry, do you mind? we’re busy in here.” simon says in an annoyed tone, watching the two men sheepishly walk away and close the door.

your breathing is heavy and you feel dizzy as you look at him, seeing an emotion in his eyes that can only be lust. you gulp and try to do anything to look away from him and focus on the mission at hand, but when his hand pulls your chin up to keep your eyes on him you couldn’t give less of a fuck about anything else.

“we need to-”

“no. just shut up.” he says before leaning down and kissing you once more. his movements become more feverish as his hands run down your body, caressing your waist and squeezing at your hips.

his lips are downright addictive, leaving a yearning inside of you that you’re certain can never be satiated. one of his hands reaches to the side and you hear the lock on the door click before it’s wrapping around your throat.

you sigh against his lips and finally give into it all, a certain thrill rising up and making you even more desperate as you whine against his lips. his thigh presses in between your thighs and it makes you gasp, which is when he takes the chance to let his tongue enter your mouth.

his lips begin moving down your jaw to your neck and he bites at your throat before he’s playing with the bottom of your dress and pulling the fabric up and showing off your cute little panties.

“you can be quiet, yeah?” he asks, and you bite your lip and nod.

he props you up onto the counter, dress lifted, before getting down onto his knees and letting his fingers brush against your panties. the small amount of stimulation has you closing your eyes tightly, sucking in a deep breath.

his thumb brushes against your clit through your panties before firmly caressing the area. you throw your head back, whispering out the word ‘please’ to him.

he reaches towards the top of your panties and pulls them down, also opting to remove the holster that holds your gun and knife. when your panties are fully removed, he stares at your glistening pussy like it’s a meal ready for him to eat.

“beautiful.” he mutters, face leaning down closer. when he presses a kiss against your clit you mewl out, clasping a hand over your mouth and clenching your eyes shut tightly.

his hands reach down and pull your lower lips open, tongue reaching out and circling against your clit in repeated motions. your head is spinning, body beginning to grow sweatier and pleasure rising through your lower half.

his lips eventually suckle around your clit and you find yourself gasping out, free hand reaching and pulling at his soft hair. you know you’re probably fucking up the style he did, but don’t care with the way he plays with your pussy.

as his movements continue, never faltering, you can feel your orgasm grow quickly. the music plays distantly behind the door but you can barely hear it over the wet noises his mouth makes against your pussy and your own quiet moans.

his assault feels never ending, sparks igniting up your spine and sending goosebumps across your body as you reach your high. you try hard not to cry out, biting down on your lower lip so hard that blood is drawn and your eyes are rolling back from both the pleasure and the pain.

“there ya go. good girl.” he says lowly, lightly rubbing on your clit with his thumb until your hips are twitching and trying to back away from him due to the overstimulation.

he finally lifts himself up and leans towards you, capturing your lips with his own once more intensely. you moan against his lips when his hips grind into your bare thighs, opening your knees to invite him in for more.

he’s quick to undo the belt on his trousers, quickly tossing it aside and then finally releasing his cock from his pants. you find yourself looking down at it and biting your bottom lip.

you should be working right now, but instead you’re about to do something that could get the both of you into so much trouble. any logic or reason is thrown out of the window when the tip of his dick rubs against you, slick sounds filling your ears as you look at him with the utmost want in your eyes.

“you ready?”

“please.”

his lidded eyes gaze at you lazily as he pushes just the tip in, searching your face for any discomfort or pain. your mouth falls open loosely as you sigh at the feeling of how big he is.

as he pushes inside of you, he lets out a soft moan, “fuck, you feel so good.”

you just know that his moaning will now be one of your most favorite sounds. he keeps pushing in, and eventually, bottoms out with his pelvis brushing against you.

you feel so full and already exhausted, but there’s a buzz that’s bubbling up within you that has you so ready for more. his breathing is so heavy in your ear as he leans into you, lips pressing against your own gently.

gentle for just a moment, before it becomes more needy and forced. that’s when his hips pick up movement, and you’re reeling away from his lips and pressing against him at the heaviness of his movements inside of you.

“oh my fuck.” you whimper out in a high-pitched tone, teeth gnawing down on your bottom lip once more as your pussy throbs against him.

his thrusts start going harder and more urgently in a manner that has clapping echo against the walls of the bathroom. you can tell he wants to finish this fast, to get back to what you’re both supposed to be doing.

“gonna make this quick. i can take my time with you another day.” he says in a rushed tone, voice cracking a little as he picks up his pace even more.

one of his hands reaches out and grasps at your throat, squeezing just enough to have you wheeze out a moan. you find yourself lightheaded and in a dizzy haze that makes his cock feel even better than before.

your hands grip onto the arm latched out in front of you, eyes shutting and biting down on your bottom lip through struggled breaths as he continues his assault on your pussy.

you can already feel an orgasm brushing up on you from the friction against your clit, which only worsens as he leans closer to thrust at a different angle. 

“y’doing so good, yeah?” he says in a gruff tone, going faster and faster.

you feel like you’re going to cum in any moment with the way his thrusts angle so he’s rubbing on your clit, and your toes curl once it hits you for the second time of the night.

you cry out, wheezing when his hand tightens its grip on your throat. you feel like you might pass out as it hits hard, simon’s thrusts becoming somehow inhuman as he moans out quietly.

eventually his hips stutter and he’s cumming inside of you head leaning down and resting on your shoulder as he keeps thrusting with small grunts and groans escaping his mouth. 

both of you are breathing heavily as you sit there for a moment, him pulling out and quickly fixing himself. he helps you regain some composure silently, eyes continuously finding your own with a certain glint to them.

“we shouldn’t have done this.” you whisper to him.

“but we did. let’s get this over with. quickly.”

you follow him out of the room after you both fix up your hair and clothing to look the same as before. you don’t know it but your makeup is smudged in a way that makes it obvious to those around you that you were up to something in that bathroom.

it doesn’t take long before you find yourself in a room with two guards knocked out cold, and you’re helping ghost with looking through some important documents that show what the politician has really been up to behind the scenes.

after just a few minutes, you and ghost have to call for the rest of 141 to come inside for backup. it’s hard to not make all of the citizens panic when gunshots end up fired, but eventually you’re all packed into a room and finding out that this location is holding a group of individuals who would be traded for money for this politician.

it’s a long and tiring mission with a hopeful conclusion. the politician ends up arrested and you help the local police with rescuing and assisting many of these children with getting to a local area where they will be reunited with their families.

you feel like you will die of embarrassment when soap drops the news of ghost accidentally turning his mic to communicate with the team on during your lovely adventure, and specifically while he was fucking you in the bathroom.

neither of you get into trouble due to the success of the mission, but price sternly warns the both of you (mostly ghost) that if this ever happens again you will both be forced to clean every surface of the base using only a toothbrush for each of you.

despite everything, you and ghost reach a different level of intimacy on a free night. and you make sure it’s not in a bathroom surrounded by people who might kill you if they know what you’re up to.

-

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[luveline]

thought of a cute eddie and roan request!! since it’s almost summer time they go to the pool or beach?? roans having a blast

thank you!! dad!eddie takes you and his baby for a trip to the beach (lake)!! this is when they haven't been together as long and roan is younger!! dad eddie x fem!reader ♥︎ 3k

Eddie's daughter is nearly five years old, about 3ft 5in, and weighs less than fifty pounds. She has slightly chubby cheeks, a huge smile, and she has never been this excited in her life. 

"I swear I've taken her on vacation before," Eddie says, his eyes moving between the road, the side of your face, and Roan's joyous expression in the rear view mirror almost frantically. 

You push your sunglasses up your nose. "I believe you. I've seen the photos, Edward." 

He snorts. "You know that's not my name." 

"But it makes derision much funnier to call you something formal."

"You usually go with Munson." 

"I'm feeling festive today, it's such a good day." 

Roan agrees from the back with a small shout. 

You turn in your seat before Eddie can, eyes creased with affection when you see her again. Roan is in her best summer dress with her hair braided back out of her face, ending before her ears so her curls can take centre stage. She's got her delicate blue cardigan on, and a sandwich in her hands. You've been trying to break the long drive into smaller bits for her with snacks and songs, and it's worked thus far. 

"Do you want another sandwich, baby?" you ask, clicking open the the tupperware in your lap. "We've only got PB and J left, Eds. Can I give her that? I don't wanna ruin her dress." 

"If she wants it," he says, shrugging. His expression is cut short as he turns the wheel sharply to the side. "Woah! Sorry, ladies, I almost missed the turn. What a loser."

You tear Roan's sandwich into a smaller one and hand it back through the seats. "Try not to get it on your dress, princess, it's so pretty," you plead. 

"I won't," she says. As soon as you hand her the sandwich she drops it on her skirts. She's just old enough to understand what's happened, and giggles like she thinks she's about to be told off. 

You've seen Eddie do it enough times. Roan drops a crust or spills a drink and Eddie pretends to be cross, eyebrows drawn together in an unconvincing glare. "Roan," he always says, and if he can reach he chucks her under the chin with his knuckle, "how dare you. You know accidents aren't allowed." 

It warms your heart that her reaction to a potential chastisement is laughter. 

Roan has firmly passed baby stage: she doesn't look like a big baby, she looks like a very small child, with deceptively long arms and legs. She waves one leg toward you and says in her high-pitched, sometimes illegible voice, "My shoe's coming off." 

Her shoe isn't coming off, but the buckle around her ankle has come undone. 

"Oh no," you dote, leaning through the two front seats of Eddie's car to help. "What happened? You're too happy, babe, all your dancing must've wiggled the buckle free."

"I'm too happy," she agrees, "we're going to the beach now." 

"We're nearly there," Eddie says. 

Indiana Beach is an amusement park on Lake Shafer ninety miles away from Indianapolis, which is a good eighty miles from Hawkins. If you were to draw this journey on a map, it would look like the hands of a clock at three thirty, or a 'Y' without one of its eyes. With Eddie's cautious driving but not much traffic, it had taken you guys nearly three hours from the time you set off from his trailer at seven in the morning to now. It's an aching amount of time to confine a child, and Roan hasn't slept a wink, so her happy attitude is miraculous and perhaps precarious. 

Which is to say, you smother her in love and hope it will keep her from becoming too agitated. You and Eddie have already discussed the possibilities of her behaviour — if she started a screaming crying tantrum as she sometimes does, Eddie would pull over and you'd climb in the back. If your company didn't help, he'd pull over again and you'd take a break wherever you were. If she still didn't improve, you'd think about going home. The point of the trip is for Roan to have fun.

You can see the Galaxi from a mile away, a huge curling roller coaster on the Indiana Beach pier. Eddie starts grinning, really smiling, the kind you don't get to see very often. He smiled like that when he asked you to be his girlfriend outside of the Hawk movie theatre, and he smiled worse when you told him you loved him for the first time, your hand pressed against his chest and your face hiding in the crook of his neck. 

"Ro!" he says loudly, turning onto a side street in search of the parking lot, "look, baby! Can you see the lake? The beach? It's so sunny, oh my goodness." 

His hand reaches across for you. He squeezes your leg roughly, and it aches in the best way, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your thigh. You can't help laughing, pleasantly startled by his obvious joy. 

Roan starts talking and you're sorry but you're not an expert in her warbling yet, not when she's speaking a mile a minute. You catch "beach," and "sunshine," and "daddy!" but that's about it. 

He drives into a ticket parking lot a fifteen minute walk from the pier and finds a space with ease. You quickly undo your belt and get out, stretching your arms behind your back and leaning forward to roll your neck out. You're sore from all the back and forth, attention split between Eddie and Roan for the last three hours. 

Eddie gets out on the other side, and he should get Roan's stroller first, but it was never going to happen. He opens Roan's door and the excited stream of chatter increases between the both of them. You come around the back of the car and watch him pull her out of her car seat, fussing over her skirts and her hair and her tiny shoes. He makes one of those heaving dad groans when he picks her up, one arm skewed under her butt and the other behind her back. It's more hug than carry. 

"Hey, baby," he says, "how's that? Is it nice to be out of the car?" His hand moves to her legs. "Should we do some walking and stretching?" 

He rubs her legs. 

"Daddy, it's sunny, it's like– like with Uncle Wayne, when'd he says that the sunshine is out to play," she says, her hands moving from her chest and into the air above her head like a burst. "It's not messing around!" 

You laugh, your heart melted to a wet goo. Eddie gives you an eyeful, as if to say, Yeah, I made her, that's my kid, and I know she's the cutest thing on God's green earth, thank you very much for noticing. 

"It's not," he agrees, putting her down on the ground. You stand a little ways away, knowing she won't run into traffic but worried anyhow. 

Eddie holds one of her hands and Roan puts the other one back in the air, stretching up big and tall. Eddie strokes a hair behind her ear, and his thumb lingers affectionately on her cheek. 

"Will you wear your hat?" he asks. 

"Do you have a hat?" 

"Uh, no, daddy doesn't have one," he says. 

"But I do!" you butt in.

They turn to look at you. You open the trunk, digging through your packed bags to find the sunhat you'd brought with you. You pop it on your head and turn to smile at them. "See? So you wear yours and we'll be matching." 

Roan doesn't hesitate to crowd your legs. You grab her hat from her 'baby' bag and place it carefully on her head. It hides her beautiful hairdo, but it'll keep her safe from the heat. She looks you in the face and grins. 

"Beautiful," you compliment. 

Eddie doesn't look quite as summer ready as you both. His hair is down, shiny clean but unlikely to stay that way considering the heat. He's wearing blue denim rather than black, something he'd spoken of with horror but more than pulls off, and a black Motorhead t-shirt. There's one chain around his neck that he never takes off, but besides that he's sans jewellery. 

"Roan," he says, "we're gonna walk to the pier to stretch our legs, but you have to hold hands. And you can sit down in the stroller when they're tired again." She nods hurriedly at the idea that she'll be free for a while. "Okay. Alright." 

Eddie gets her stroller out and unfolds it, putting her baby bag in the seat. You rake your fingers through the ends of Roan's hair while you wait, the sun warming the back of your neck already. 

Eddie locks the car, and the three of you start toward the pier. Roan holds your hand and Eddie pushes the stroller out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk that leads to the pier. 

The smell of salt tickles your nose. Roan's hand flutters in yours like a hummingbird, excited gasps breaching her lips when you pass an ice cream stand bragging rainbow cotton candy bigger than her head, kaleidoscope gelato, Popsicles in cherry red, raspberry blue and lime green. Her eyes widen at the sight of huge diamond kites, yellow rubber dinghies, surfboards and wetsuits dripping water down sandy ankles. 

You know Eddie's been saving. He confessed, when you'd brought up your concern one night, that he wants her to have everything. 

What's going on? you'd asked, frowning at his bedraggled face after another late shift. You knew Wayne had been picking Roan up from daycare to let him keep working, and it just hadn't been like Eddie to do that. You can tell me anything.

You'd been expecting, regrettably, money troubles. The Munson's aren't rich but they've never been hurting for money since you met, and all these extra hours has you assuming the worst. 

Eddie rubbed a tired eye. I just want her to have everything. I don't want to say no. Not even once. When we go on vacation, I want her to point at things and I want her to know how it feels to be able to have them without a fight. 

Admirable, a tinsy bit silly. Of course he wants that, isn't that what everyone wants for their children? Admirable, because he wanted it and he worked for it, and he saved up enough to bring Roan here and spoil her within an inch of her life. Silly, because Roan doesn't ask for much. She does ask for stuff, of course, but she's not gonna beg him for a two hundred dollar professional kite, or state of the art arm floaties. But just because you think it's a little silly doesn't mean you aren't incredibly in love with him, impressed by and proud of his efforts. 

He wants to get Roan everything. And so they start with shaved ice. 

It's the second stand you see, just off of the pier with a long, long line. Eddie scoops her up off of the floor so she can see the different flavour combinations, and it's no surprise when she chooses all the pinks and red. Strawberry, cherry, and pink lemonade. The cone is bigger than her hands and costs a ridiculous seven dollars. 

The small smile on Eddie's lips when he can crack out a crisp twenty dollar bill and hand it over makes you smile, too. It's satisfying. All that hard work was worth it for this moment. 

And the moment after. Eddie takes the snow cone and Roan audibly sighs. 

"Oh, my gosh," she says. 

You laugh. Eddie looks at you from over his shoulder and beams. 

Roan wants to do everything, as Eddie predicted. She plays arcade games she's too short for, hoisted up on his knee or in your arms, face screwed in concentration every time, and though the controls escape her she loves hitting the big red button and watching the claw come down. 

But she also wants stuff money can't buy. She wants Eddie to hug her when the clown walks past because he's big and bright and a little scary. She wants kisses when they stand at the side of the pier to look at the lake, blue and clear as an ocean, and drops some of her own against Eddie's sweaty cheek when she's been loved up. She wants you both to swing her by the hand when you're walking down the ramp to the beach, which is difficult but not impossible with the stroller in Eddie's other hand. 

She wants to get ice cream, and a slurpee despite her half eaten snow cone. She wants soft pretzels and churros and a hotdog with extra onions. She wants a surfboard, and you dissuade Eddie from getting her one of the proper ones in favour of a floatie. 

She wants you to put the finishing touches on her crumbly sand castles, and to cuddle in your lap when Eddie makes her drink from a cold bottle of water. When you've been sat in the sun so long that your brain is jellified and you have more sand in your shoes than sock, she springs up from her stomach where she'd been kicking her little feet drawing smiley faces in the sand and demands you take her down to the waterfront. You leave your towels on and the stroller further up the bank and pray for the best, and Eddie peels out of his t-shirt and rolls up his pants a couple of feet from the water. Eddie pulls her sandy dress off to reveal the swimming costume she'd been wearing underneath, a bright yellow costume with a skirt, not too tight to hurt, and bends down at the waist to talk to her as they wait for the water to rush in. You encourage armbands over her elbows. 

"It's gonna be cold, Ro, so we have to run in! Are you ready?" 

"I'm super ready!" she says, squeezing his hand and squaring her shoulders. 

You secure her bands and take her other hand into your right hand, your shoes in your left, bracing yourself for the shock. 

You run in full pelt and screaming with joy. Roan's voice turns into a stream of "oh my god oh my gosh daddy pick me up'd it's too cold oh my gosh," as the water covers your calves and her waist. Eddie immediately leans down to pick her up, out of choices and surprised by her loud aversion. Water stains him from knee to navel. 

"It's not that bad, babe," he says, though he meets your gaze over her head and mock glares at your shaking head. It's freezing. "We just have to get used to it. Ready?" 

He doesn't let her get ready. He doesn't let you get ready. He grabs your wrist and pulls you with him, fighting the cold as the gentle lake tide laps at your waists. 

"Eddie, our pants!" you protest. You'd brought spare clothes in case of any accidents. This is decidedly not an accident. 

"Please, sweetheart, just come in," he says. 

He should legally be prevented from saying please and sweetheart in the same sentence. You submerge yourself to the waist as he wanted and stand there in the water, the taste of river water heavy on your lips now, splashes of cold wetting higher up your chest. It's close to intolerable, the only saving grace the heavy heat of the sunshine above you.

"How's that, Roanie?" he asks.

He's clearly having a blast. His eyes are brighter than the sun dappling that kisses the waves. 

"It feels squishy," you say, adjusting your footing in the sandy bottom of the lake. 

"This is so FUN!" Roan shouts, letting go of Eddie's neck to put her hands in the water. She splashes the surface and soaks Eddie's t-shirt to the neck in the process. 

You almost fall over trying to find his waist in the blue. You wrap and arm around Roan and Eddie wraps and arm around you, the three of you much too deep in the lake and with no plans of turning around just yet. 

"This is so fun," he says, kissing her cheek, kissing yours. "We should do this every year." 

You smile at his chest. 

You hadn't realised, yet, that he wanted you every year. Roan babbles her agreements, talking about her snow cone and the sunshine and her floatie. She stops suddenly. 

Eddie rubs her shoulder, water shining across her pale skin. "What, babe?" 

"Daddy, where's my floatie?" 

You head back up the beach to find it. Her stroller and your towels have been left alone, but the floatie must've been too tempting. 

Eddie, without complaint, goes to buy another. 

—

more Eddie and Roan ♡

please reblog if you enjoyed, it means so much!

[the-scarecrow-of-aus]

Based off this pic and this post about Steph finding out danny can make eldritch tentacles.

(Pt.1 because tumblr keeps posting instead of saving drafts)

A 'Net' problem

Danny has a big problem... or a bunch of 'smaller' problem's.

His parents had forcefully dragged him off on a road trip, now while he was used to this in the grand scheme of things, they had sprung it on him mid week as he was in school and completely ruined the test he needed to take to graduate school.

Now he's Left behind his friends, his ghost hunting gear, Jazz, who had managed to not be found as his parents drove 'into' the school in search of him and his phone, which was crushed under the G.A.V's treads when it crashed through his classroom wall.

Danny, close to breaking point has had enough.

-

They had been chewed out at the latest ghost Hunter convention for the insensitivity of the ecto-'dream catcher' and on their beliefs that colds and flu were work of the evil ghosts. (One of the organisers had literally thrown a medical textbook at maddie in anger)

They had sequestered themselves in the lab for a week as a result, not bothering anybody. But, being the infamous 'Dr. Fentons' that they were, they had just focused on the positives and ignored the negatives. This included reading the book thrown at them and getting even more insane ghost hunting ideas as a result.

So now they were in new jersy tracking down the The Jersy Devil because: 'according to the book, it was good mental health to have a positive mindset with a goal' and 'he's gotta be a ghost Danno, how else do you explain the stories?' (Danny: "literally anything else but a ghost!")

What could be considered a positive was they had apparently dismantled the dream catcher, judging by the familiar parts found stacked by the lab doors everytime he or jazz had tried to look in on their parents. what they had done with the parts later however, danny didn't know.

He stared vacantly out of the window until something caught his eye, a city limits sign:

Now entering Gotham!

'Crap!' Thought danny, he knew batman didn't like outsiders but he especially didn't like meta outsiders who's rogues followed after them. Considering how he had left, skulker at the very least would probably start chasing after him.

"Dad, why are we in gotham? I thought we were after the jersy devil?" Jack just laughed "we are my boy! What better place for a ghost to hide then gotham, he even has the inhabitants fooled by calling himself the Batman! We're not fooled though, that ecto scum isn't getting away from us!"

Danny frozen in shock, felt the dam in his mind finally breaking, he took a deep breath to calm himself and was rubbing his face in his hands before responding calmly...

"I'm not bailing you two out of jail when this blows up in your face... and I'm definitely not intervening when the justice league comes after you. Can you drop me off somewhere near a library? I don't want to be implicated in this and honestly, I need to catch up on the school work I'm missing out on because you dragged me here".

Maddie, confused about Danny's frigid mood smiled and tried to offer him an ectoblaster "what are you talking about dear? We're not committing crimes, its a scientific study. Besides, You're already a genius in the scientific community! Are people giving you a hard time about it?"

Danny swatted away the blaster and glared at his mother, replying icily: "genius? I was in one magazine about communicating with Delilah the purple backed gorilla, I'm barely passing school because you both keep causing me so much trouble, and nothing about your 'scientific study' would 'ever!' pass an ethics board. Now let me out or I'll let myself out!"

"Nonsense Danno, it's easy to graduate public school, i did and i was barely there when your mother and i weren't hunting ghosts. besides, we need an extra gunner to help us catch the damn ghost, especially if he has backup in the area!"

'Theyre not going to listen' danny thought angrily, if they were willing to attack the gotham vigilantes on a ridiculous idea, then they were too far gone and would not be going down quietly, 'no way in the realms am i going down with them!'

-

As part of one fluid motion, danny, looking out the front window to gauge his timing and safety, unbuckled his seatbelt, got out of the chair to maddies confusion and punched the emergency eject button above the GAV door.

The door hatch forced itself open in a tearing of metal as it tried to deploy both a slide and a inflatable water raft painted with the fenton logo and jacks face. Both were torn away by a street pole catching them.

Danny, grabbing the detatched door frame stepped out of the vehicle without a second look at his parents. The plate door landed, letting danny surf across the road drawing a wave of sparks as it was drastically slowed down from the high speed GAV.

The curb came up quickly catching the door and danny jumped away, gracefully tucking and rolling as he hit the pavement, proceeding to rise and move into a side street away from the surprised pedestrians with limited loss of momentum.

In true gothamite tradition they quickly lost interest as danny didn't seem to be a new villain attacking them and wrote it off as just a 'wayne kid' kidnapping attempt.

Danny weaved through the side streets making sure his parents wouldn't be able to catch him, his first job was to find the library, he needed the resources for his classwork and his parents were too dense to actually try and find him there.

Three inquiries of passers-by later (and two shut down mugging attempts) danny reached the gotham library within an hour or so, the cool quiet confines beckoned him to relax.

Danny reached the front desk and called to the librarian on duty, a red head woman in a wheelchair typing away at her computer "excuse me ms, I was wondering if there's a police hotline to get information directly to the batman?"

The woman looked up at him and quirked an eyebrow in amusement "more urgent the dialing 911?"

Danny snorted at the bizzare knowledge that was his parents "if I wanted to get laughed at and marked as a prank caller sure, my parents are considered crackpots in general, mad scientists at best, with emphasis on the 'mad', is there a number?"

-

Barbara stared at the guy waiting at her desk, he was calm but seemed resigned to something troubling him. "I could ask around but most contact with the bats goes through commisioner Gordon or Bruce wayne, would you like me to try and get a number?"

The guys face scrunched up in distaste at Bruce's name "ew, I'd rather not deal with rich frootloops if possible, you never know whats in their basements. does the commissioner have a number I can call?"

Barbara chuckled in amusement, quickly sound-byting the conversation to the family group chat "you don't know who I am do you?"

Danny didn't even blink before responding "you're the pretty red head librarian who reminds me of my sister, so hopefully your not a rogue in disguise. other then that its not my business, can you contact him or not? we've got time till sundown and the batman comes out, but notifying him sooner is better then later".

Barbara still grinning pulled out her phone and dialled a number, Jim answered his daughters number after the second ring "oh thank you for the distraction from paperwork, what's up?"

"Hey dad, I've got someone here who wants to talk to the commisioner about urgent information for the batman, think you can help?" There was a dramatic sigh from the phone "and here I thought you were calling just to say hello, are they on the level?"

"Well... he looks like wayne-bait but doesn't trust rich people, also said his parents are considered mad scientists, might be related"

The line was filled with a deep groan "ohhh christ, I think I know who it is... *sigh* put him on".

Slightly concerned, she handed danny the phone who held it awkwardly, not used to the thin smartphone. Silently she tapped into the line.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Jim Gordon, am I right in assuming you're Daniel Fenton? I've been getting traffic reports on your parents driving for the last hour".

Danny sighed "yes, that's them sir, Dannys fine. just so you know, it's gonna get worse before they stop".

"Worse then driving a tank at high speeds through packed gotham streets? We've already got squad car's in pursuit" Danny looked Barbara in the eyes as he replied

"here's where i get marked as a prank caller sir... worse like they are actual ghost hunters and now think the jersy devil is a ghost... and that it's also batman" Barbara, thinking of Boston brand held in a snort but the amusement drained as she looked at the seriousness of dannys face.

"I don't know if you get news from amity Park Illinois commissioner, if you did you would know theres a weather report segment regarding if my parents are out driving... the ghosts there are the real deal and can cause physical damage, worse is the fact that my parents have weapons capable of harming people and destroying buildings in their pursuit of ghosts, Worse is they blame the damage they cause on the ghosts theyre hunting".

"I... see, any suggestions?"

"Yeah, Tasers won't work through their hazmat suits and I would suggest meta dampening collars but honestly, they'd break them down for parts before you could blink. they will not listen to you unless they think you believe in their ideology and the GAV can pretty much survive tank rounds"

Danny took a long breath and let it out before continuing "look, anyone whose died for more then a minute or two will start to show up on their scanners, they'll be searching hotspots like graveyards or old houses for the big sensor spots. I'd ask that you don't listen to their ideology regarding ghosts because my parents have caused enough damage to the undead that I'm failing high school trying to keep the peace... oh!"

Danny twitched as if he'd remembered something important "I apologise in advance, I know batman doesn't like meta's in the city but I wasn't given a choice in the matter. Unfortunately some of the amity park ghosts might follow me to gotham, if it happens I'll try and get them out of town before they can cause harm, but I'm more into damage control then making people happy".

[mariyekos]

Fic preview for DMC friends. Takes place post DMC5, Dante and Sparda centric, and is very much unfinished. This is only the first 2200 words of a currently 3400 word also unfinished fic, but I thought it would be fun to share the beginning before I lose all steam!

The seal shatters.

Sparda lets out a sputtering breath, falling to the floor. 

Finally, finally, he is free.

Everything exists in a haze, the lingering remnants of the spell which had captured him locking away memory and reason, the length of his capture, the method by which it was achieved, and the purpose of it sitting outside the distance he can reach, but it matters not. He is free. He is free. Escape is within his grasp.

Energy spills forth from the fragmented bindings that once held him, the remains of his prison disintegrating around him as whatever magic had kept them in place finally, ultimately, fails. His hands shake as he raises them, the light of a magic circle flickering at his feet until it too dissipates, an unknown length of time having sapped enough of Sparda’s strength that he’s unable to make out anything but the presence of a blurry glow before he is left in total darkness. Shudders wrack his too-thin frame as a power exceeding his own barely-there energy cowers at its touch. For a brief moment, the glow beneath him roars to life, a screech grating against his eardrums as a dying seal attempts to draw strength from the leylines crossing under this place. 

Yet the hum of the circle quickly dies. The world around him goes silent. Power flows back into the earth and away from this place, leaving it empty and cold. 

There is no presence but his own. Whoever had sealed him is gone, the air still and stale and unnervingly empty. 

It matters not. The method of his entrapment has failed. Whether it is a temporary failure or permanent one he does not know. He cannot risk being captured- siphoned from? Perhaps? His body is weak, his flesh sallow, his head pounding, and the demonic energy which he’d always retained to at least some extent since he’d sealed the vast majority of his power along with the Demon World is near absent, the faintest of faint threads of it so meager as to perhaps be naught more than a memory- and thus cannot stay to investigate. Whoever caught him- by whichever means they caught him- he has not the strength to pursue. 

Nor does he have the true desire for it. For now, drained as he is, all he wants is to hide and sleep. To nest and recover. To lie undisturbed for an age as his strength returns and the world moves on without him or his power. He can’t afford to lose any more. Not with the way his body trembles and his chest aches in a way it has not in millennia, demonic senses dulled to the point they’re unable to supplement the failing human hearing and vision this form possesses. 

The world is muffled and blurred. He feels numb. He is not safe. He cannot remain where he is. He needs to find shelter. He must escape.

As he emerges from the cave in which he’d been trapped, something in the distance calls out to him. 

A remnant of his power. A familiar energy. A Beacon.

Safety. Security. Recovery. Health.

He stumbles forth. 

LINEBREAK

Sparda cannot say how long he walks for. 

Weak as his body feels, drained as he is compared to the state in which he should be, he is nonetheless more durable than a human, and his steps continue past a setting and rising sun, the number of which he’s too dazed to count, aware of the difference in the light, but not able to truly process or remember enough of the passage of time or even the motions of his own flesh to be certain of the count.

He passes by human settlements. Through one or two. Along a road with rushing vehicles which for a miracle do not hit him. Whispers and shouts fade out of his memory, unnecessary to the purpose of his trip. The rush of air from a giant mass of steel narrowly missing him doesn’t shake him; normally were he to be hit, it would cause minor damage at most. He has not the energy to consider what excess damage might be caused were he to be hit in his current state. 

In time he enters a city, the buildings looming over him tall and unfamiliar. He does not care for places like this. With his wings unavailable to him, he feels trapped.

Yet it is in the city that the Beacon lies. 

And so he stumbles forth, step by step, strength fading, his trip having drained him of what little of his energy reserves remained after his capture.

He will reach it. The Beacon. Safety. Security. A place to recover. A place of his power. A relic he’d imbued or an old hideaway of his, he thinks through the haze that has enveloped him. Something precious to him. Essential. Unbelievably strong in his weakened state. 

It will protect him as he recovers. If he can merely latch onto it- reclaim the power he imbued it with and take it into himself to heal his wounds and restore his lost power- he will be able to return to a state in which his body is not failing him, in which he feels himself and not a mere ghost, in which memory and reason are more than just dreams, and so pursue it he will until his legs fail him.

He reaches a building.

He pushes over the door.

The Beacon is inside.

As the last of his strength leaves him, he hears a shout, feels a familiar brush of power, and then knows no more as the realm of unconsciousness lays down its claim and a blackness different to that which he’d been trapped in for so, so long settles around him.

LINEBREAK

Twice does consciousness brush against Sparda before he wakes. The first is to the rumbling of a human voice, low and indiscernible through the static of the void in which Sparda resides, viscous and heavy and unwelcome to the idea of wakefulness. He makes out no words before sleep claims him once more. To his tired ears, the voice is little more than colorful sound. The second is to a brush of energy so like his own, yet- tainted, somehow, or rather different, the quality or morality or justification for it indeterminate through the fog of sleep, not nearly as heavy as before yet thick enough still to keep him downed. Despite the difference between the energy that brushes over him and the energy slowly building in his own core, there is something that feels right to it, as if the energy was meant to morph, meant to change, meant to turn into something no longer Sparda’s but its new owner's own. The realization takes much out of him, and with it does Sparda drift off once more.

When he finally does wake, it’s to the thrum of a machine, mechanical and uneven, as if the thing is struggling to stay on. He is warm- truly warm, a warmth that not only sits in the air and blankets his body, but bubbles in his core, the chill that pervaded every inch of his being during his imprisonment replaced by a sense of calm and welcome. He is healing. Slowly, but assuredly. Though his trek may have drained the last of his energy reserves, they will replenish themselves with time. Especially now that he's found himself-

His eyes, having struggled not to close as the lull of sleep tried to claim him even as wakefulness fought its way forth, snap open. Realization washes over him.

This place feels familiar, yes. 

But he has never been here before. And it is most certainly not his domain. It quite distinctly bears the claim of another. 

“Morning, Sunshine.”

Sparda's breath catches in his throat. He's sitting up at this point, left hand clinging to the bed while his right clenches the sheets that have bunched at his waist. A wave of dizziness washes over him; his strength yet wanes, and the quick movement nearly overwhelmed him. 

The one who spoke is to his left. Sparda's vision struggles to focus on the speaker- on the Beacon, that thing that feels so much like him yet a thing all its own, that thing which is in fact a conscious being, he now realizes, and that another being absorbed and converted his power so readily sits leaden in the pit of his stomach- as he blinks the dizziness away.

The Beacon does not Speak as Sparda's vision clears. They merely wait. It is an uneasy few seconds.

When his sight returns to the level at which it should be while he's in human form, Spqrda is dealt yet another mental blow.

“You-”

The face that greets him is yet another unfamiliar familiar thing. For it is very much like his own.

“It's been a while, huh?”

Sparda is left speechless. No words arise.

For before him-

Is kin. 

And the memories which had lied out of his grasp since his capture and through his escape emerge from the cave in which they'd nested, heavy and hearty and leaving him aching for all he has lost for he has no kin in the human world save his sons, and if this is his son- or, he prays it is not the case, for if it were true it would mean he'd been gone even longer, but if this man is perhaps a descendant of one of his sons- then he has been gone far, far longer than he'd meant to leave for. The Beacon- his kin, his son, he thinks, but which one, which one- stares.

“How about we start with an introduction?” his kinsman asks, tilting the chair he's sitting in until its back clicks against the wall. “You go first.”

“You are-” 

Sparda cuts himself off again. He has lived for millennia, seen ages be born, live, and die, and the few weeks he was conscious between leaving his beloved wife and children were not long enough to forget his boys and their personalities. If this is one of his sons, then confusing him for the other will go…quite badly. If he's to pick a name, he must be correct.

But which one is it? Which child of his is this, if either? 

He knows now why the Beacon's energy felt so familiar; it was his own, though a generation or more removed, and demonic families tend to share energy signatures to at least some degree. Vergil and Dante had been young when he'd left and their energy signatures had been close enough to his own, as well as near indistinguishable from one another. Certainly not different enough for him to identify which was which when only one was in front of him; it had frustrated him immensely, so used to identifying demons and even humans by their weak signatures, but Eva had lain the blame on the boys’ being twins. Normally demonic littermates felt different, but the boys were half human, and that would certainly impact their development. When next to each other there was the slightest of differences that let Sparda know the two were in fact two and not one, but he'd never been able to put the difference to words. The energy he feels coming from the man sitting before him now is different still. Yet is that because he is a different being, or because his energy has changed with age…?

The man clicks his tongue. “Mm mm mmm, I said you go first, not me. That means you say who you are, then I say who I am. I'd say that's a worthy payment for me lugging you up here and cleaning you up after you collapsed on my doorstep unannounced.” 

Sparda looks down at what parts of his body aren't covered by the sheets. A soft, black, button up shirt covers him from collar to just above the wrist. Pulling the sheets a few inches to the side to see his waist reveals matching pants. When thinking about it, he can feel the sheet rub against his ankles. He was not wearing this outfit during his imprisonment. It's tight in the shoulders and thighs. A tolerable but imperfect fit. 

“I thank you for your aid,” Sparda says, finally able to find the words for a full sentence. He lifts his head, staring at his savior to look for something that will give him the confirmation he needs. “I apologize for my sudden intrusion. I was in a poor state and had headed toward the nearest familiar thing. It seems to be stored here.” Or to live here, rather. But until Sparda is sure of the identity of his savior, he dare not risk more than is strictly necessary. After all- though he should only have one set of kin in the human world, born from his chosen mate and the love of his life, that is not to say he does not have kin elsewhere, and if the man before him is descended from him instead-

The man whistles. “Now really? Pretty much everything in this joint’s something either I or a trusted friend brought in, so if it was yours, I'm sorry to say it, but I think you lost your claim a long time ago.” Something dark drifts across his expression, smiling curling just the slightest bit inwards. Bitter. “If you wanted to keep it, you shouldn't have left it behind.”

(tbc)

[inthesirensandthesilences]

a lot to do on this track still but i like how it's coming so far. this is the 2nd incarnation of the "anime con domestic disturbance" song i have been hyping up so much

lyrics:

it goes fast it goes slow when something disappears from the world in a flash, in a dream in an antique 21st century apartment walls festooned with drawings of all your favorite shows

i don't wanna snip i don't wanna bite but this incentive structure leaves me no other path of respite pass national monuments bearing each other's names the ultimate greatest cross country road trip shows its growing pains

last of our decade the last of our kind preserved in amber preserved in texts the type archaeologists find or i hope not or at least i'll get a chance to redact all the numerous parts that'll make me look bad

cause there's a lot of those there's no argument is there? every instant that i chose willing your limbs to fall off wishing your eyes would fall out screenshot your post for the callout

the room next door called the cops two 19 year olds with painted grey skin and matching rainbow socks wasn't even the first time that i'd gotten got you remember the time with the chess match and the bomb threat

and the swat team all formed up in a row sinister static coming off their radios and through my microphone you heard a pathetic sob you heard a crack in the facade you heard me choke