#breaks my body down into dust and gravel

[fatsmyname]

You're cool and I hope you have a good day :-)

AWWW ur so sweet thank you anon :3 I’m trying my best my life has been so busy and I’m fighting burnout liek crazy rn but ^_^ smiling!! thru!! the pain!!

[drdawnbreaker]

𝐀 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐳𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝 𝐈𝐜𝐞 || 𝐁.𝐁

Pairing: Winter Soldier x HydraPrisoner!Reader

Summary: Soldat, and you have been through so much in such little time. And now, you have to navigate the looming storm of snow and rising tension. Can Soldat keep you from slipping over the edge or will you just end up falling together?

Word Count: 1.49k

Warnings: Blood. Canon level violence. Non-sexual nudity. Tension. This is basically just naked cuddles by an open fire. What can i say, I'm a romantic.

Notes: I didn't expect to write something so long, but here i am, ahah. This was heavily inspired by @winterarmyy fic with Bucky, hehe. Anyhoo enjoyy. Not beta read. Yolo. Also, this is my first full fic, i guess... ahhhh. So please go easy on mee argh xx

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Imagine You and The Winter Soldier are fleeing, running for your lives in the wet and cold night. The gravelled roads covered in a blizzard of thick snow. Your body is soaked from rain, blood, dirt, and god knows what else.

Soldat never said a word as he tracked closely in front of you, creating a path with his long, thick legs, letting you walk without much effort, unlike him who is starting to feel the burn of his muscles and the sting in his lungs. But he would never tell you, he would rather break all his bones in his body than risk any discomfort to you. Not ever again.

Soldat pushed open the heavy door with his metal shoulder, the cracking sound of snapping wood echoed in the vast silence of the lonely woods that hid more than fifty-ish gaurds from the hydra base they had just broken out from. You stumbled in behind him, your breath creating little clouds as you sighed deeply as you almost tripped into Soladts' large back.

Your thin clothes that Hydra forced you to wear while you were stuck in your cell and soldats tactical gear was soaked, stained, clinging to his skin. It was like a reminder of the struggle he went through to get you out. He had taken the brunt of the most brutal confrontations, but the scars of your escape marked both of you—physically and mentally.

As the door slammed shut with a heavy thud, a cold shiver coursed through you, making you very aware of the biting chill that seeped into your bones, rattling your body with a familiar emotion... Fear. Soldat noticed your discomfort. His steel, almost grey eyes, were shadowed with concern. “There is no power. Too risky,” he muttered, his voice low and husky. “But we need to get warm.”

Without another word, grunt, or whimper, Soldat moved like lightning towards various cupboards, tossing through cobwebs, dust, and strange bugs before finally finding an old stack of firewood. Well, most like cheap chip wood, but it'll burn enough to get you warm.

You watched him as he arranged all the wood in the fireplace, not even seemingly taking a breath until it was complete. The flicker of warmth that the flame produced would simmer you down only momentarily before another shiver ran down your body as the wet melting snow pooled against your skin from the soaked fabric.

"Here,” he called, gesturing to try beside the fire, his voice steady despite the storm outside. Yet you somehow knew that he was panicked deep inside. Worried about yours and his safety. Morely yours, but you try not to think about that. “Get closer to the fire.”

You obliged without a word, positioning yourself on your knees before the flames, but quickly realized that the heat was barely wrapping around you. The cold still seeped into your chest, gnawing at your skin. Soldat threw more wood in, but time was not a luxury you had, it seemed. No, as your eyes grew heavy and your shallow breath slowed, Soldat needed to find a solution quick before you surely died from hypothermia. He grunted through his nose as he watched you for a moment more before speaking...

“Strip,” he said, gravelled and bluntly. It made you freeze, cheeks flushing as your slowed heart began to race.

What? Is he serious? You blinked at him in shock as uneasy laughter bubbled up, tinged with embarrassment. He can't actually be serious... Right?

“Soldat, I—” you started, but then he cut you off by speeding down the hall before you could process his request. You sat there stunned and trembling. Confusion warred with the urgency of your situation, the biting cold gripped you tighter, but now a heat pooled inside you, one you always managed to keep hidden until now.

With a deep, shaky breath, you hastily stripped off your damp clothes. The chill of the room made every inch of exposed skin tighten, and you quickly slipped into your underwear. Just as you pulled the last layer away, Soldat re-entered the room, his arms holding a bunch of blankets and pillows. He dropped them carelessly on the floor, but carefully not to get any in the fire or on the wet pile of clothes you created. He began to arrange them with determination, making a makeshift bed. Almost like a nest or cocoon.

"You have to get warm." He states, letting you see the determination in his wild eyes. You hugged your arms around yourself tightly, still feeling in the heat of embarrassment, being almost bare in front of the only person in your life who ever showed care for you.

“The underwear isn’t helping,” he stated flatly, as if the gravity of the situation was the only thing at play, almost completely ignoring the circular emotions churning in the space between you and him. The tension that has been brewing since the first day your cells were side by side. Since the first time you used your abilities to sneak into his cell and hold him, let him know he wasn't alone while using your powers to soothe his torturous mind.

Your heart raced as you met his gaze. “Can you... uh c-can you close your eyes, please?”

He chuckled softly, a lightness breaking through the tension. “Alright,” he said, feigning nonchalance as he covered his eyes with his metal hand, though a ghost of a smile lingered on his lips. Something was almost foreign about a smile on the Soldats, but he had grown to have one when only you were around.

With shaking fingers, you slipped your last barrier away, letting the wet bra and panties all alongside the other wet fabric before you dived for the blankets, mortified and relieved at once, your heart hammering wildly. “Okay...I’m done,” you called, hoping to mask your vulnerability and embarrassment with the soft cupboard smelling duvet

He opened his eyes, pulling his hand away. The warmth of the fire reflected off you, a hint of satisfaction finally grazed in his expression. You shifted slightly, the blankets cocooning you with newfound warmth, but the icy sensation still danced inside your chest. You shivered again

Soldat could hear the way your body was still craving heat and as he swore under his breath as the silence stretched thick with the unspoken tension. He knew he needed to do something. So he started to strip himself of his own wet clothes, revealing the chiselled muscles and scars that told stories of his torment...of battles fought and lost. He reached for his belt, and it made you suddenly speak up with an eep in your voice.

“W-what are you doing?” You blurted out, the absurdity of the situation slamming into you like a train as he slipped off his pants, boots, and underwear until he was completely bare in front of you. You didn't mean to cast your gazs lower, but before you could even get a good look at him, he was under the blankets beside you. Skin suddenly against skin.

“I need to keep you alive,” he replied with a gruffness that softened under the weight of his intentions. He pulled you close, lifting the blanket over both of you to create more warmth.

Your body instinctively moulded against his, seeking the refuge of his body heat even though your mind was racing at the idea of being this close to the soldie while completely naked.. As his heartbeat thrummed beneath your ear, you inhaled his scent without thought—an intoxicating mix of woodsmoke and something uniquely him. It made your heart ache and twist with butterflies. And as the storm outside raged on, you felt a surreal sense of safety wrapped in his strong embrace.

You buried your cold nose into his chest, feeling the fear, the stress, all of it melt away with every passing second. “You’ll be okay,” he murmured, fingers gently brushing through your hair as if he was soothing both of you to rest.

In that moment, there was a clarity of peace that felt sacred. It was something neither of you had felt in years, decades... It was as if the world had fallen away, problems and fears non-existent by the closeness you shared with him. A refuge built on trust forged in darkness and chaos.

Even though none of you predicted this moment, the sleepiness began to claim you both, weight of conflict fading like melting snow.

Soldat's warmth surrounded you, lulling you into a quiet dreamland. And that night, amidst the storm, with the fire crackling softly, Soldat mended the fractures within both of you if only just for a moment. And that night was the first night Soldat slept without the fear of the demons to raid his mind. No, the only thought he could think of was that he had you safe and away from the sinister grasps of hyrda. You were both finally free.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hey! Ps: love another Lie 🫶🏻 Your writing is so beautiful! I have some fiction ideas and I hope you'd like some 🥹

Imagine Charles in the middle of a race and there is a high speed crash. He's bruised and hurt and may have internal injuries but he wants to get back to the reader in the pitlane asap cause he knows the reader would lose it and as he suspects the reader is in the middle of a panic attack with everyone holding her back and on seeing him she is relieved and breaks down and he's like "you've been crying" and consoles and Hugs her in public. Ps: If you're up for it maybe it could lead to soft consoling nsfw smut?

A Little Longer

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, crash, panic attack, injuries, smut WC: 1.3k

F1 Masterlist

You only looked away for a second, but that was all it took to miss the crash.

One moment Charles was setting best sector timings, and on the way for the fastest lap, and the next his car was spinning off the track and slamming into the tecpro barrier.

A collective gasp had rippled through the garage and you had nearly broken your neck with how quick your head snapped back to the screens. For a moment you couldn’t even see him through the dust from the gravel pit he had caught the edge of. In that moment a hundred thoughts passed through your head. In that moment a thousand questions followed, growing darker and darker as everyone waited for the dust to clear.

All ability to function was erased as you remained frozen in place, eyes fixated on the screens, unblinking, waiting for any sign of movement.

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think.

You hadn’t realised you were moving until Joris grabbed your arm and you found yourself under the harsh sunlight of the pit lane instead of the garage. “Let me go,” you begged with a broken voice. “I need to get to him.”

The edge of your sight was fuzzy, the images blurry as tunnel vision set in and Joris shook your shoulders. His lips were moving but no sound penetrated the noise in your head or the whoosh of your pulse that seemed to be thump in your ears.

“I need to get back to my girlfriend.”

“This is your health we are talking about, Mr Leclerc. You need to be thoroughly checked out at the medical centre.”

“Later,” Charles argued as he limped over to the motorcycle, his hand clutching his ribs. “You don’t know her, she will be worried.”

Every bump on the path sent a jolt of pain across Charles ribs and he bit back the groan that followed. He had to focus on his breathing as he ignored the crowd watching his return to the pits, he couldn’t spare a second to think about all the people he had disappointed with his crash. 

All he could think about was you.

He immediately knew he was right to worry when the motorbike puttered along the pit lane and he saw a ring of his crew trying to keep the media from seeing the scene behind them. Your cheeks were damp with your tears but your lips were cracked from the rapid breaths you were struggling to take. Joris was at your side, the relief in his eyes notable when he looked up and found Charles pushing his way through the crowd.

“Mon cœur, you’ve been crying,” Charles whispered as he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing soft kisses over your damp cheeks.

“Charles?” 

He hated how broken your voice was, broken because you had been screaming for him until your throat was raw. He held you tighter despite the protest his body made but he couldn’t stop the sharp intake he took when life returned to you and you threw your arms around his waist. 

“You’re hurt!” you gasped as you leapt back and kept him at an arms width so you could inspect him. “You should be with the medics. What if you’re bleeding internally? I can’t live without you, Char.”

He chuckled softly and cupped your face so he could silence your ramblings with a kiss. “I’ll see them soon, I just need to hold you first. Please?”

You couldn’t deny him, not when his green eyes looked so blue. Lacing your fingers with his you gave him a small nod and finally noticed where you had ended up. You couldn’t remember leaving the garage and Charles draped his arm over your shoulder, turning you back to the shelter of the garage when he saw your eyes widen in realisation.

“I didn’t mean to cause a scene,” you mumbled as he closed the door to his driver room.

“I know, mon cœur,” he replied softly as his hands ran up and down your back soothingly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Your trembling fingers reached for his face, tracing the creaselines his balaclava had left over his cheeks and when his eyes fluttered shut your thumb brushed away the dust that had clung to his lashes. 

“I couldn’t see you.” His eyes opened at the sound of your voice. “It was the worst feeling in the world. I couldn’t see if you were okay or if…”

Charles chased away the lingering thought as he pulled you into his arms and kissed you. “I’m here, I’m here,” he reminded you as he stepped backwards, taking you with him to the couch where he sank into the soft cushions with a wince before tugging you onto his lap.

You tried to pull away as your legs settled either side of his thighs but his arms locked around your waist. “You’re hurt, baby. You need to let the medics check you.”

“Soon.” His hands followed the curve of your body until he reached the hem of your dress and they slowly began to climb once more. His palms were still warm from his gloves and the touch sent heat waves rippling across your skin as he inched higher up your thighs. “Please, let me hold you a little longer.”

It was unfair of him. Truly. He knew exactly how his touch affected you and when his thumbs teased the line of lace between your thighs you couldn’t think clearly enough to deny him. Your response was dragging the zip of his race suit down and his hands left your body only long enough to pull his sleeves down and shove the material past his waist. 

Time began to work strangely as the urgency to feel each other crashed into the need to savour the moment. Your panties were pushed aside in the rush as Charles’s strong hands guided your body down to meet his and then time slowed as you stared into the gold and green eyes of the man you loved more than anything.

Whatever he saw in your eyes made him swallow deeply and bury his face in the crook of your neck, kissing his way back to your lips where he reminded you once more, “I’m here, amour.”

You returned his kiss, combing your fingers through his hair as it deepened and your hips began to move slowly. There was an awareness of his injuries that kept you from moving any faster and after a minute Charles’ impatient hands gripped your waist and set the pace for you until you forgot about the crash completely.

“I love you, Charles,” you moaned as your core clenched around him and he stole the soft sounds with his lips as he joined you in ecstasy.

“I love you too.” He sighed contentedly as he pulled you as close as possible against him, your entire front pressed to his, but the sigh turned to a groan of pain.

“Medics, now,” you ordered as you climbed off his lap and offered your hands to pull him to his feet. “No more procrastinating.”

“What we did wasn’t procrastinating, amour,” he managed to tease as he held his rib cage with one hand while he pulled his race suit back up with the other.

You groaned and ran a hand over your face. “You’re not allowed to joke until the doctors have cleared you, Charles.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” Lacing your fingers in his, he lifted your hand to his lips and kissed them before reaching for the door. “Let’s go and ease your mind, my sweet.”

[fioreofthemarch]

repast

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom Pairing: Link/Zelda Words: 880 [✨read the oneshot's two companion pieces: yearnings and kin]

The first thing Link began to wonder about the Light Dragon – once his tears for her ran dry and his grief made room for a growing curiosity – was whether she ever got hungry.

In her previous life, she’d had a utilitarian relationship with food. Link had cooked all manner of dishes for her, and each one she would eat in a straight-forward, disciplined manner, dutifully setting about tidying up once she was done. If he asked what her favourite meal was, she’d say, ‘All of them!’

Now, it was possible that dragons didn’t need to eat. Immortality, its terribleness aside, probably had benefits like that. The question was, would they want to?

Link hadn’t paid the Light Dragon much mind during his travels. Dragons seemed to be ten a rupee these days, arising out of chasms, swimming over villages, winding through canyons and so on. Now that he had learned who the Light Dragon really was – telling himself he’d known for a long time to muffle the anguished guilt he felt at not having known right away – he had begun to track her movements. Occasionally, she would break her kingdom-spanning flight path to spend a few hours circling the skyward Temple of Time. It was there that he waited for her now.

“Zelda, I’ve come to make your favourite,” he called up to the Light Dragon from the roof of the temple, unsure if she’d heard. Undeterred, he set up a cookpot and began, sauteeing a dozen apples in a hefty amount of goat butter – this being the only meal Zelda had ever requested of him, maybe two winters ago on a freezing evening camped somewhere in Hebra. She’d said if she had one wish, it’d be a hot buttered apple, and with pride Link had made that wish come true.

At first, the Light Dragon didn’t seem to notice him. He considered hitting her with an apple-fused arrow to get her attention, but was worried he’d discover, in retaliation, that dragons had a taste for humans. Over the course of an hour however, she circled lower and lower towards the temple and the cookpot, until she gently touched down, her body wound around the outer perimeter of the roof. She rested her head by the cookpot, a huge bright eye fixed directly on Link. He froze, unsure if she was really in there, and also what the proper etiquette would be when dining with a dragon. As if in answer, she sniffed at the pot of apples. Taking one in hand, Link offered it slowly out to her; she sniffed it again and opened her mouth just enough for him to push the apple between her teeth. In astonishment Link watched as the otherworldly creature munched carefully on the apple and opened her toothy jaws for a second.

Half a dozen more he fed her this way and each one she ate faster, opening her mouth wider to demand more. By now the supply of savoury-sweet apples was running low. “I’ve only got a couple left, Zelda, but I can come back—”

Chomp! The Light Dragon snapped its jaws down around the cook pot, sending apples flying in all directions. Link reached up and grabbed the edge of the pot, trying to yank it free. “Stop! You can’t eat this! Let go!”

Then he was falling, relinquished from the Light Dragon’s teeth when she roared, and he landed on the gravel just before the cookpot landed on him. He cried out in pain, and in response the Light Dragon recoiled, drawing up into herself, the roof shingles crunching under her claws. 

Dusting himself off, Link set about collecting the apples, finding them flung across the roof and soiled with gravel. With a sigh, he prepared to throw them into the cooking fire when, at his side, something soft nudged his arm. The Light Dragon, or Zelda, or whatever mix of the two she was, tapped him with the very tip of her snout, having crept back towards him. In Link’s hand was the final apple, mostly intact. The Light Dragon nudged him again, making a low rumbling noise, barely more than a whine. 

“It’s okay, apology accepted,” Link said. “Glad you still like my cooking, old girl.”

Then, the idea coming upon him with a laugh, Link threw the apple as high as he could. There was a tornado of rushing air and dust as the Light Dragon soared upwards, unwrapping herself from temple and launching herself in pursuit of the apple, which she caught with a swift snap of her jaws. Her prize seized, she descended again to fly past Link, so fast he could barely touch her, before rising into the sky and out of reach. Her way of saying thank you, he supposed. 

Later on, returning to the surface and Demon King-shaped task at hand, Link would horde apples by the dozen and spend even his last rupee on goat butter whenever he stopped by a town. From then, he knew that if his grief struck stronger than he could handle, he could return to the Temple of Time with as many apples as he could carry, and dine with Zelda again - just like they once had, in times gone by. 

[meguwumibear]

yakuza!shouto x reader writing warm up

you fucked up.

badly.

broke into the wrong place at the worst time.

in your defense, you've been casing the joint for hours. it was supposed to be empty. how the hell were you supposed to know it was anything but?

the scene before you is gruesome. the body on the floor still warm. and the killers? yeah, they're staring straight at your dumb fucking ass.

you just had to choose this fucking house to break into. didn't you? what shitty fucking luck—not that you've ever been on particularly good terms with the lady. besides, you're really a horrible thief. too loud. too clumsy. probably should've gone into construction instead.

you're fast at least. from all these years of running. you're good at creating space, at keeping a distance between yourself and others. thank fuck for that because if your speed fails you now you are most certainly going to eat a bullet for dinner.

maybe a bullet wouldn't be so bad actually. you've had worse things to eat. what kind of metals are in bullets anyway? your anemic ass could certainly use some iron.

focus.

there's a car running in the driveway. likely an escape vehicle which means it would be an absolutely stupid thing to steal. the assholes are probably tracking it somehow. hitmen do shit like that, right? they keep close watch on their property?

the footsteps behind you are close. way too close for comfort.

fuck it. whatever. gambling's never been your vice, but it's probably worth the risk. you'll just hightail it out of here and ditch the car the moment you get the chance.

the driver's side door swings open when you pull at the handle.

idiots. who forgets to lock their fucking getaway car?

no matter. you're not one to look gift stupidity in the mouth. those morons can eat your fucking dust.

you throw the car in reverse and slam your foot on the pedal just as two hulking forms come into view. they have their weapons raised, poised to shoot.

tires screech on gravel as you tear down the driveway. you keep your head low in case your pursuers decide to empty their entire magazine into the back seat in a last ditch effort to kill you.

the rain of bullets never comes.

odd.

they probably could've hit you. is the car you're in worth so much they wouldn't risk dinging it?

the moment you hit the city you pull the car into a narrow alleyway and shift gears into park.

the night is too quiet and still. it does nothing to keep your mind off of your rabbiting heart. the stupid fucking thing is beating so fast you're certain you're setting some sort of world record.

you take a long deep breath in to steady yourself, relaxing your grip on the wheel.

"i'd torch the thing if i were you," comes a voice from the backseat. "you're dead if they find even a trace of something that could lead them to you."

that rabbiting heart of yours? yeah, it near about stops. you can barely find the courage to turn to meet the eyes of whoever the fuck you just took for a joyride.

the man is beautiful in a way that cuts like a knife. lean build. smooth skin...well mostly smooth anyway. there's what looks like a long since healed burn around his left eye.

the man also has a gun in his hand. he's not pointing it at you. he's not even fucking looking at you. he has his elbow propped on the window and his head resting in his hand.

yeah, you are so totally screwed.

"arson's not really my thing, but thanks for the tip," you reply, throwing open the door. it hits the brick wall of the alley with a dull thud.

you wince at the impact, wondering how much it costs to buff that kind of dent out of a car like this.

you chance a glance behind you, and the man is looking at you now, red eyebrows raised in amusement.

fuck.

motherfucker's toying with you.

there isn't a large enough gap for you to wriggle out of the car, and you don't have the strength to yank the door closed again now that you've so dimwittedly sandwiched it into the wall.

the asshole in the back's just watching you. he seems curious what you'll do next.

psh, as if the solution isn't obvious.

you start the car, moving the gear stick into drive, and slowly scrape your way down the alleyway, aiming for the entrance.

"bit conspicuous, don't you think?"

"shut up," you spit, stopping the car nonetheless. "like you could come up with anything better."

a lazy smile touches the corner of his lips.

"i'd never get myself into such a predicament. i would have-" the man is cut off by a buzzing in his pocket.

holy shit he has a phone on him?!

"do you mind?" he asks, answering the call anyway. "i kind of need to take this."

[hazeystar]

i'm broken (tell you i'm fine)

Now I'm begging you to come and pull me out the fire Come and save me, like you did when we were young Oh please, come bring me up from my lowest, take me higher Can you see me through the ashes and the smoke?

Two weeks after the breakup, Buck misses Tommy. He also loves him, did you know?

welcome to my first fic to this fandom because i hold buck and tommy close to my heart and have many ideas for them now

below the break and also on ao3

He couldn’t have been older than ten when they first met.  

He had fallen off his bike. Or maybe he jumped. Maybe he just didn’t stop himself from falling. 

Either way he was on the ground, his bike somewhere around him. He was just going down the sidewalk, saw an uneven crack and thought nothing (or maybe he thought “What the hell?” and sped up just a tiny bit more). 

“Hey! You alright?” There was a voice calling, and he sat up carefully, wincing as he pressed his hands back into the concrete. He definitely scraped them up.  

He was blinking away the sun, when a body came in front of him, standing with a bike next to him. “This your bike?” 

It was his bike. There was a boy holding it up, looking down at him with a concerned expression. 

Oh. He still hadn’t said anything. “Ye—yeah, it’s mine.” 

The boy nodded, setting it down next to them before crouching down. He was older than him, that much was evident, just by his voice. “You’ve scratched up your hands pretty bad.” 

He looked down at the offending body parts, nodding slowly. “Looks like it.” 

The older boy was silent for a couple beats before standing up. The boy on the ground only stared, following the movement. “I’ll be right back.” 

He could only nod, watch the other boy stride down the sidewalk and reappear a few moments later, this time with a first aid kit in hand.  

The older boy resumed his spot in front of him, opening the kit and holding out a hand.  

He sat there, his own hands still on the ground, occasionally sparking with pain.  

“Your hand, kid.” The boy gestured again, and he finally moved, placing his hand in the other boy’s. He felt a shiver run through his body when the back of his hand hit his palm. It wasn’t bad by any means. It felt warm, and soft, like coming home.  

Slowly, the older boy dusted off the gravel on his hand, swiping an alcohol wipe over his palm before placing Band-Aids on the worst of the cuts. He set his hand down gently, picked up the other one and repeating the process.   

“There you go.” 

“Thanks.” He finally spoke again, and watched the other boy stand up and close the first-aid kit. 

“Try not to get thrown off your bike again,” he chuckled before giving a small wave and walking back to wherever he came from.  

He picked his bike back up, staring at it for a moment, his eyes moving towards the chunk of sidewalk that took him out. 

He walked the bike over it, making sure to clear the crack before getting back on and biking back home. 

- 

Buck was crying again. 

It was two weeks after Tommy had walked out of his loft, and subsequently his life. 

He’s now an owner of a KitchenAid stand mixer and probably getting close to being banned from three different grocery stores on account of how much flour and sugar he’s been buying. 

He’s working and when he isn’t working, he’s been baking. Trying to keep his mind off Tommy. 

But now, the red velvet cupcakes are baking in the oven, there’s red food dye drying on the counter that he can’t be bothered to take care of, and Buck is sitting against his island, tears running down his face as he stares at his phone, trying to write a text message. 

He got pretty far this time, some ramble trying to explain himself that filled almost half the screen (it was impressive he managed to type that much with all the water on his phone).  

How did this happen? It was going so well, six months together and it was wonderful. It was everything he wanted and more. And then he had nothing.  

Well, he had the red velvet cupcakes. That he didn’t even realise he’d started baking until he was pouring in red food dye. 

They were Tommy’s favourite. 

So, the loft smelled like red velvet, the food dye on the counter probably looked a little too close to blood, and Buck was crying because he missed Tommy so much. Why did he leave him? Didn’t he know he loves him, that he- 

Oh.  

Did Tommy even know that Buck loves him? 

The only sound heard was the sobs Buck was trying to choke back as his mind ran a thousand miles an hour. Did he ever tell Tommy he loves him? Did he ask him to move in and didn’t even say he loves him? 

Before he knew it, the text he was still drafting was forgotten as he tapped through his phone, bringing it up to his ear once it started ringing. 

It only took two rings, then “Ev- Fuck, Buck?” 

He was silent, his breathing hitching with a sob with every breath. He didn’t think this far, he hasn’t heard his voice in two weeks- 

“Evan?” Came Tommy’s voice again, and shit, he still hadn’t said anything, has he? 

“Tommy,” he breathed out. I love you, did you know that? I really, really lov- 

“Evan, are you alright? Where are you?” 

“Loft. I-” This time a sob escaped, and he couldn’t stop it, it was all too much. His loft smelled like red velvet, and he was hearing Tommy’s voice, and he just wants him here. 

“I’m coming over, okay? Don’t hang up, baby, I’ll be over there soon.” 

He nodded, then realise he wouldn’t see that. “Okay.” 

They sat in silence, broken up only by Buck’s choked back sobs or the occasional car passing Tommy as he drove. 

He didn’t know how much time passed, but a timer went off on his phone, and like he was on autopilot, he stood up and pulled the tray of cupcakes out of the oven. He set them on top of the stove, staring at red cakes. There was cream cheese frosting he’d made on the counter, but they still needed to cool, and he'd have to get a piping bag out so he could make them look like the ones they used to get at the bakery near Harbor. 

He let out another sob at the memory, sliding back down to the floor. The phone was in front of him, having put it on speaker long ago when he needed another hand to cry into.  

“Ev, baby?” Tommy sounded worried and it made Buck cry harder. He missed Tommy worrying over him, being with him, hugging him, kissing him. 

“I miss you.” 

A sigh, or maybe just an exhale. Then, “I miss you too, sweetheart.” 

He cried again. He missed him too. That’s good, that’s good, that means he can still fix this. 

“Pulling into the parking lot.” 

“Th- Door’s unlocked.” He’d gone out earlier to dump some trash, a great deal of flour bags. He’d forgotten about the door until just then.  

“Okay. I’ll be up soon.” 

It was quiet again, then the sound of a truck door being slammed. Buck didn’t move from his spot, not even when he heard the door to his loft open at the same time the call disconnected.  

“Evan?” And there was his voice, in person. He was here. 

“Down here,” he called out, hearing footsteps and then he was in front of him. He knelt down, two fingers hooking under his chin to get Buck to meet his eyes and he felt time stop when he saw Tommy’s face again. 

He looked tired, and sad. There was scruff around his chin, his hair was curly in a way that made Buck want to bury his hands in it. His eyes were the same blue, but there were read rims around them. Had he been crying too? 

“Are you okay?” 

Buck nodded, and then he was scrambling up, throwing his arms around Tommy’s neck and wrapping around him. Tommy sat back properly on the ground as Buck straddled him, arms going around Buck like second nature. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he soothed, arms tightening just a little bit more. Buck whimpered; his head tucked into the crook of his neck as he breathed in Tommy.  

“I missed you.” A beat. “I’m sorry.” 

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, it’s okay.” 

But he needed him to know. He pulled away from his neck, not quite leaving his hold but needing to look him in the eyes. “No. I’m sorry. I should have said it better, or maybe I shouldn’t have said anything at all, but I look at you and I just want it to be perfect because you deserve it. You deserve it to be perfect and I don’t know how to do it right. You mean everything to me, and I want you to be around all the time and I- I get it if you don’t think I’m worth it right now, I get it, I do, I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I just, I miss you and I hate not being with you and I’ve been crying because I miss you and I love you and I just- I need you to know that, okay. Pleas-” 

He didn’t register Tommy’s breath hitching when he heard him say it, but he definitely registered his lips on his, effectively ending his ramble. 

And Buck melted into it. It’s been so long and also not long ago that he had kissed him, but still it felt like that first time. He felt like he was coming home.  

“Evan,” Tommy said when he pulled away, his voice wrecked. “I love you too.” 

It sent another wave of tears through him, but this time Tommy was crying with him, brushing a few of the tears away. “I love you.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” He kissed his birthmark, cradling Buck’s cheek in his hand. “And baby, there’s nothing to forgive. You’re worth everything, Evan, a thousand times over.” 

Buck started shaking his head and then Tommy’s thumb was gently pushing against his lips, shushing him before he could even start talking again. “Yeah, you could have said it better, I mean, Evan, I own a house, you live in a loft. I’m sorry too. I should have handled it better too. I shouldn’t have just spiraled, freaked out and left you.” His eyes softened. “I love you. I do. It doesn’t need to be perfect; I don’t need perfect; I just want you.”

He nodded and for the first time since he entered his loft, Tommy smiled. Buck smiled as well. 

They were long overdue for a discussion on their last conversation that night. Tommy would go over his fears from past relationships, Buck would explain his thought process, and they would talk for hours about it all. About the last two weeks and six months and where that left them now. 

They would start with keys to each other’s places. When Buck’s lease was closer to running out, they’d start the conversation again about moving in together, this time properly, without any freakouts and breakups.  

But for right now, they’d sit on the floor in Buck’s kitchen, holding each other for the first time in two weeks. They’d hold each other and cry out their tears, and then Buck would drag them up to frost the cupcakes. They’d eat them on the kitchen counter and then fall into bed together, Buck tucked into Tommy’s arms. They’d both get the first good night’s sleep in two weeks, and they’d wake up in the morning knowing things weren’t perfect, but they weren’t as broken any more.  

It didn’t need to be perfect as long as they had each other, so the rest was going to be easy. 

[metalhoops]

Steddie Week Day 4:

Familiar / Hurt/Comfort / Here Come the Tears by Judas Priest

Eddie and Steve had never been close before the world went to hell. They’d known of each other, as everyone knows everyone in small town, middle America. They’d gone to the same school, smoked behind the same abandoned buildings and knew all the best places to make the worst decisions, but they hadn’t done it together. They were disparate figures, drifting around each other’s edges. That all changed in 1986 when through fate or chance the two boys had been flung together. 

By the summer of 1988, they’d grown into and around each other like vines beneath forest foliage. They’d become inseparable, familiar. Steve showed up outside the garage at closing time, the Beamer tearing down the gravel path, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. When Robin and the kids weren’t around, Steve drove fast, throwing caution to the wind. No one else knew that about him. Eddie did. 

He didn’t know what to do with all of the pieces of Steve that were uniquely his. He felt the illogical urge to write them down, catalogue each one as though designing a character for a new campaign. He wanted a record of each minute detail of Steve. 

“Your yuppie boyfriend’s tearin’ up the drive again, Manson,” Eddie's boss, Frankie, hollered from his spot behind the service desk. 

In the year he’d worked at the garage, he’d never seen the guy move from behind his desk, yet his hands were always grease-stained. Eddie hated his boss, but the job paid well enough. He was saving up to high tail it out of Hawkins, where nicknames like ‘The Freak’, and Frankie’s newest addition ‘Manson’, as in that Manson, the one with the cult in the 60s, weren’t so widespread. 

“I was off twenty minutes ago, Frankenstein. You want him to stop kickin’ up dust you could just let me off on time,” Eddie grumbled, grabbing a spare rag and trying to scrub the worst of the grease and engine gunk from his hands and overalls.  

“You think that carburettor was going to replace itself? You wanna finish on time? Work faster,” Frankie noted, punctuating his point by kicking his feet across the desk. Charming. 

Eddie made his way to the car, drummed his knuckles against the passenger door and waited as Steve leaned over to push it open, his precious seats covered haphazardly with one of Eddie’s ruined bandannas. This was their habit, how the two worked. Steve was wearing sunglasses, which usually meant he was fighting off a migraine. They’d been more frequent in recent months. Eddie blamed the hot weather. 

“How was your day?” Steve asked, starting the car.

Eddie flopped into the passenger seat and groaned. He let his body lay slack and boneless as the leather seats cradled him and the cool air from the A.C. took his breath away.

“That good, huh?” 

“Everyone’s cars decided to break down on the hottest day of the year and Frankenstein’s still giving me shit about being a cult leader. I think the dude used to hold out hope for you since you were the town's golden boy, but now he thinks there’s some kind of Stepford wife thing going on.” 

Steve snorted as he turned onto the familiar street leading to The Harringtons’ house. 

“I saw Dustin today. The kid wanted me to remind you, you’re picking the twerps up on Monday,” Steve informed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. The guy had no sense of rhythm, but Eddie never had the heart to tell him. 

“Remind me why you can’t,” Eddie muttered as Steve’s house came into view. 

“Because I work late and you get off by two.” 

“I thought you said my van was a ‘death trap’. I could always take your car,” Eddie proposed with a devilish smirk. 

That car was Steve’s baby. Not even he was allowed to drive it, save that one night in Indianapolis when Steve was drunk and Robin broke her wrist. They’d spent five hours together in the emergency room. It’d brought back all the wrong kind of memories for Steve and Eddie could tell. 

Steve and Eddie talked about everything except Eddie’s stay in hospital and defining the liminal space between platonic and romantic, their relationship had been drifting for the past six months.  

“In your dreams, Munson. You staying at mine tonight?” Steve asked, pulling up and walking around to open Eddie’s door for him. 

He always made excuses about Eddie getting engine oil all over the passenger door, but he thought Steve liked playing chivalrous in the same way he liked playing up his less-than-stellar reputation.  

Steve kept asking him to spend the night. Eddie had his own drawer in Steve’s room. He couldn’t help but feel like he was asking him to move in. Eddie kept turning him down, not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in Hawkins, even if it was with Steve. He’d tried to convince himself he’d be able to do it, so they could get out of their goddamn stalemate and get on with the rest of their lives. Yet, Hawkins had always been inhospitable for the likes of people like him and the person Steve was becoming.

“If you’re cookin,” Eddie agreed, unbuttoning his overalls.

By the time Steve found his keys, Eddie had managed to strip the sweat-slicked clothes from his body and dumped them unceremoniously on the front stoop. The good thing about rich people’s houses? No neighbours for miles. 

They followed the same old routines. Eddie made his way upstairs to shower while Steve started prepping for dinner. Once Eddie didn’t smell like the inside of a boys' locker room, he returned to find Steve spaced out in the kitchen. 

Eddie’s heart was a hummingbird in flight. Steve’s body was stock still, his eyes a thousand miles away. 

“Steve,” Eddie breathed, signalling his approach. 

He tried to focus on the kitchen. This wasn’t two years ago. Vecna was dead. 

He laced his fingers into the crook of Steve’s elbow and finally caught the boy’s attention, the pot on the stove having boiled dry. 

“Migraine?” Eddie asked as Steve’s eyes snapped shut, frown lines marring the landscape of his forehead. 

“Yeah,” Steve confirmed through gritted teeth as Eddie guided him to the couch, switching off the lights on the way.

“Looks like you’re going to have to put up with the Munson special then, eggs on toast,” He breathed, sitting down beside Steve and guiding his head into his lap. 

He’d sat through a couple of Steve’s migraines. Sometimes they were fast and painless as a sun shower, other times he’d spend hours disorientated and puking up his guts. There wasn’t much Eddie could do for him, but sit there and be with him for it. In sickness and in health, all that crap. Eddie wasn’t sure when he’d become close enough to Steve that he’d sit through anything with him, but he knew now he would. 

“Stevie, you know when I get outta this hellhole, I’m taking you with me, right?” Eddie breathed, feeling the sudden need for candour. 

Sometime in the space between getting to know Steve and getting to love Steve, they’d crossed the line from familiar to familial.

Steve’s face nudged against Eddie’s palm, his forehead beaded with sweat. 

“I’d like that,” he confirmed. 

“We’d have to take Robin with us, though,” Steve added after a beat, causing Eddie to let out a breathy chuckle and dip down to press their foreheads together.  

“Fine by me, long as you’re there.” 

[kimmberleeex]

18+ NSFW, TW: choking, spanking, breeding

.

.

.

It was 1989, four years after you graduated high school. You had moved out to California to go to college after having had a really messy break up with your high school boyfriend, Eddie Munson. Back then, he had no real aspirations other than to be a big rockstar and he just had no goals at ever creating a life with you. Or at least that’s what you had thought back then. It was easy to assume that because while you graduated and went to college, Eddie was held back again for the second time for his senior year.

You often thought of him and if he ever left Hawkins and made it big somewhere. Secretly, you wished for his success and still listened to all the rock radio stations to see if you’d ever hear him on there.

After you graduated college, you decided to finally go home to visit your parents. Once you caught up with them, you made plans to go to the local bar with Steve and Robin who were still around town. When you walked into The Hideout, you scanned the room of all the barflies, secretly hoping to see your favorite metalhead. That’s when your eyes landed on a messy mop of long, dark curls splayed across a leather coat wearing Eddie. Your heart flew straight into your stomach.

Steve saw him and put a hand on your arm. “Y/N, we can go somewhere else…”

Waving his arm off, you walked over to Eddie who had his elbows propped up on the sticky bar, hunched over and scribbling on a bar napkin as he sipped on a big mug of cheap beer. Taking a deep breath, you posted up on the bar stool next to him. “Hey, stranger. Come here often?”

Eddie turned his head to look at you and his face grew pale, almost like he had seen a ghost. Steve and Robin slowly walked up behind you with sheepish smiles painted on their face as they gave a half assed wave. “Hey Munson.” Steve said half heartedly.

You watched as Eddie swallowed hard, sitting up straighter on the bar stool as he turned his body more toward you. “Y/N, you’re the last person I ever expected to see here…” he started. “What are you doing here?” His tone was cold, clearly he was still upset with you for breaking up with him.

Internally, you felt your heart break a little at his harsh tone. “I graduated college, I came back home until I figure out what I wanted to do next.” Gesturing towards Steve and Robin, “I was grabbing drinks with these two trying to catch up. I was kind of hoping you were here.” Slowly, you reached across the bar, attempting to touch his hand for reassurance. Eddie quickly slinked away from you.

“You hoped I was here? After you broke my heart back in high school? Fuck off, Y/N.” He slammed down a few dollars to pay for his drink and he stormed out of the bar. Watching as he left, you could feel the tears stinging your eyes as they welled up.

Steve put a hand on your shoulder. “What did you expect, Y/N? You really did destroy him after you left.”

Your anger was building and you felt like you could burst. Turning your head to snap back at Steve, the tears spilling onto your cheeks. “Did you think I wanted to do that, Steve?! It broke me to do that. I HAD to. Eddie didn’t have any goals of wanting to start a life with me and I wanted out of this shithole.” Brushing past him, you storm out of the bar yourself. As you emerge out of the door, you’re just in time to see Eddie peel out of the bar parking lot on a Harley. Dust and gravel flying around as he disappears onto the evening road.

Quickly, you hop into your car and peel out of the parking lot. Feeling desperate to make things right with Eddie, because he was the love of your life and still was. You do your best to keep up with him and follow him back to his home. You were surprised to see him pull up to a house with a white picket fence, a garage with what seemed like a couple project cars (including the big old van he drove in high school), and a nice big front porch. It was just like the house you always told Eddie you wanted.

You get out of your car as Eddie slams the front door, sighing heavily you go up to the door and knock frantically. “Eddie, please. Can we at least talk? I’m sorry! I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I never wanted it to be like this. I never stopped loving you.”

Slowly, Eddie opens the door with a very stern look on his face. “Then why did you do it?”

The urge to wrap your arms around him and just bury your face in his chest was overwhelming, but you resisted. Tears stinging your eyes still as you look up at his raging, molten, chocolate ones. “I-It felt like we were going nowhere. I was going to college, you got held back because you had no aspirations for your life. You just kept saying you were gonna be a big rockstar. But you had no plans that included me, that included us.”

He scoffed as he left you in the doorway, he stormed off into the hallway that was connected to his living room. Slowly you stepped inside, waiting for him to return. Eddie came back in, his voice almost booming. “I didn’t have any plans that included us? Then tell me why I bought this and was carrying it around with me a couple months before you broke up with me?” He practically throws a small velvet ring box at you, inside was a small diamond ring. It wasn’t much but you know back then he must have been saving for awhile just to afford it. The tears were spilling down your cheeks with what felt like a never ending stream.

“Y-You were going to propose?” You choked out through the ball forming in your throat.

“I was waiting for the right time. But then you left me. And I knew if I proposed, you would have given up on your dreams. I couldn’t do that. But you didn’t have to fucking break my heart the way you did.” He grabbed a beer, slamming the fridge shut and plopping down onto his couch. His legs spread far apart as he always did.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. I just thought if I didn’t…you wouldn’t have let me go.” You sniffle softly, you didn’t really know what to say to make things better.

Eddie scoffed before taking a big chug of his beer. “Y/N, I’m not your dad. I won’t tell you what you can and can’t do.”

Sighing softly as you slowly made your way over to the couch. You sit on the edge of it next to him. “Did you ever do anything with your music?”

“Nope, gave it up about a year after your left. I still play but not like I used to. I run my own auto shop now so I just don’t really have the time.” He swallows another sip of his beer, his anger still seething but his body has relaxed a bit more with the alcohol.

“Do you want me to go?” A whisper that’s barely audible is all you’re able to say because you’re worried about his answer.

Eddie leans over to put his beer on his end table before he turns back to you, he shakes his head as he leans in and wraps his hand around your throat. That molten anger is still brewing in his eyes and it makes his lip quiver before he crashes his lips against yours. It was the first time in 4 years since you’ve felt him like this and you’re unable to stifle the moan that escapes your throat.

He’s rough because he’s angry and in that moment you can tell he’s going to take his frustration out while fucking you. It was just like in high school, whenever you two would fight, you’d just fuck the anger out of each other. After feverishly making out for a moment, he pulls you up into his arms, gripping your ass tightly as you wrap your legs around his waist. The stubble on his face is rough against your skin as he carries you into his room and throws you on the bed.

He watches you like you’re prey and his voice is husky with desire as you can see the raging hard on straining against his jeans. With quick fluid motions, he undresses and commands you to undress for him. “If you don’t do it yourself, I’ll tear your clothes off and you won’t have anything to wear home.” You couldn’t help the grin that turned up the corner of your lips at the thought. When he started to pounce, you chuckled and quickly begin throwing your clothes off onto the floor.

That infamous, crooked Munson grin is plastered on his face as he drinks your form in. “Fuck, have you gotten hotter?”

“Me? Have you looked at yourself?” You looked over his toned body, he had even acquired some new tattoos on his chest and upper arms.

Eddie flipped you onto your stomach, this was almost ritualistic for all of their make up sex. He wanted to do it doggie style so he didn’t have to see your face and that way he could be more rough with you. Pulling your hips up into the air, he slides his calloused finger over your already slick folds. He chuckles to himself. “Already wet? Did you really miss this cock that much?”

Unable to control the soft mewl that came out of your mouth, you push your hips into his hand, demanding more of his touch. You nod your head. “Mmf, yes, Eds. I missed you and your fat cock so much. Please?”

“Good girl.” He lands a hard smack to your ass that is deliciously painful and you hear him spit into his palm to lube himself up. He makes sure that you’re wet enough before slamming his entire length into your wet heat. Groaning as he feels that familiar grip of your pussy. “Fuck, almost forgot how fucking tight you are, princess.”

His hips slam into you over and over and you rock yours back to meet his, his skin slapping against yours and the moans from you two are filling the room. Eddies grip is etching white fingerprints into the skin of your hips, one of his hands grabs a handful of your hair and pulls your head up. “Need to hear your pretty moans, babygirl.” Eddie always knew what to do and say that would drive you absolutely wild. His anger was melting away as he roughly fucked towards both of your orgasms.

As you got closer, you gripped him tighter which caused loud grunts from Eddie. “Fuck, princess. You gonna cum on my dick like old times? Tell me where you want my cum, baby.”

Moaning even louder, feeling the tightness growing in your belly, threatening to snap. “Mmf, yes, I will. Please, inside. I need all of you, Eds.”

With this, Eddie begins thrusting even harder and faster. Slamming into that spot deep within your core that brings you over the edge. Grunting loudly as his body pulsated inside of you, filling you to the brim as you both chase your highs. Once you both come down, he slowly slips out of you with his softening length. He watches as his cum begins oozing out and down your thigh. You feel as he stuffs it back inside, which causes another desperate moan out of you before you slump into the bed.

He collapses next to you and the both of you bust out laughing as he wraps his arms around you. Placing a soft kiss against your temple.

“I really missed you, Y/N.” He murmurs into your hair and you can hear his heart racing against your ear.

“Can we pick up where we left off? Or is that too selfish of me to ask?” Your heart raced as you were terrified of his answer.

“Hey, do you wanna be my girlfriend?” He pulled back to look at you, that crooked grin on his face.

“More than anything, Eds.”

[mega-pixie-dream-girl]

Snowed In - Part I

1996

Pairing: Dave Mustaine x f!reader

Summary: When a festival gets canceled for inclement weather, Y/n–the young guitarist from an up and coming band selected to tour with Megadeth–is stuck at a vacation rental. Her bandmates get stuck in town and Dave comes back just in time to get snowed in together with her. Dave doesn't mind showing her a few tips and tricks on the guitar, but there is another tune a-hum between them.

𝓦𝓐𝓡𝓝𝓘𝓝𝓖𝓢: power dynamic/mentorship, Dd/lg, age gap, size

read Part II here

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It started innocuously enough. When Dave first reached out to my band inviting us to tour with Megadeth on their upcoming tour, I was beside myself–it was the dream: to go on tour with such a successful rock band as their opener. I figured we wouldn't be spending much time with the big shots, but once we were on the road Dave actually spent time with us–chatting, jamming, sharing meals at backstage catering. He had advice for us. He took a liking to us–he took a liking... to me.

Now I stood by the window, watching the snow out in the field. We had the rare break in the tour schedule and this vacation rental was the perfect place to rest for a few days when one of the festivals got canceled due to the report of a possible blizzard–how could such a light dusting of flurries take down a major concert? "Inclement weather"... it seemed silly. But my thoughts drifted to Dave's warm smile, melting the stiffness of disappointment that had been filling my chest. 

Hopefully the Megadeth guys would be here soon, returning from any PR obligations and from jetting away for a few days. My bandmates had gone to town to get groceries and it was my job to get the fire started in the hearth. In my heart, I wish time would burn up like the fiery logs, until Dave would arrive. I thought of the promo photoshoot we did before the tour, his biceps playfully wrapped around my small frame and how I fit right under his chin, framed by his apricot hair–he was a lot more experienced at posing for the camera than me and knew exactly where to put his hands. I can still smell the cologne he wore that day–my body warmed to the thoughts I play over in my head night after night, my heart a skipping record, hearing that first nonchalant utterance of "sweetheart" on his tongue. I wonder, had I fallen right into his knowing checkmate in this game he must have played so many times before?

At first, our practice sessions were purely musical–honing my skills on the fretboard and learning the intricacies of his compositions. But gradually, other elements crept into our exchanges. The warmth of his fingertips tracing delicate patterns along my exposed flesh, sending shivers down my spine. His voice, low rumbling whispers in my ear, making my heart race faster than any riff. 

I knew I was playing with fire–every compounding moment when I sent him one more burning doe-eyed gaze, every rehearsal I showed up effortlessly braless bouncing breathless, every playful tilt of my head onto his shoulder. This man held my dreams of 'making it' in his callused palms, but after years of staying on the straight and narrow path, putting everything into my music, I let myself be intoxicated by his nearness whenever I could steal the moment.

The familiar crackling of the gravel driveway broke through the quiet snow-dampened stillness, followed by the creaking of the front door. I felt the frigid outdoor air draft through the old farmhouse, tickling my neck, my breath puffing a small fog in front of me. 

"Daddy's home!" called out the familiar snarky voice, "Heeey-llo?"

"Dave? In the living room!" I called back.

Dave kicked off his boots, hung his stiff leather jacket on the stair railing, and walked up behind me. "The guys left you all alone?" he purred with a smirk. "Do they expect little you to shovel all this snow by yourself?" 

"It's not that bad." I shrug.

"Well, we're not in Cali anymore. It's going to get much worse tonight. I hate driving on these icy roads, so I decided to beat the storm," Dave said, "...and I wanted to make sure my Cali girl has everything she needs here." 

Dave encircled me with his chiseled arms from behind, holding out a box of graham crackers in one hand and a bag of marshmallows and cacao powder in the other. I couldn't help but breathe in, lifting my chest closer to his offerings of s'mores and hot cocoa supplies, grazing his arms. 

I lift my chin to look up at him, "In the mood for something sweet?" I ask.

"Mmmm… you could say that…" His voice was deep, almost hungry sounding. "So where are your ‘mates anyway?" 

"Went to town to pick stuff up."

"They better hurry or they may be spending the night at town hall until the roads are clear…" Dave looks at his watch, furrowing his brow. "It may just be you and me tonight," he smirks, his hazel eyes penetrating me. He leaned over to the little radio on the mantle and turned it on.

"18:00 2 INCHES. 20:00 5 INCHES. BEEP BEEP BEEP MONROE COUNTY: 18:00 2.5 INCHES. 20:00: 7 INCHES…"

I turned around in his loose embrace, "Maybe you can show me the fingering for the chords in Sweating Bullets?"

Dave smirked down at me, recognizing my desire for his attention. Biting my lip, I gently shifted closer to him. He put the groceries aside and wrapped his arms around me tighter, giving me a slight squeeze, his muscles flexing. He put a finger under my chin and tipped it up so that my eyes were forced up to his sultry gaze.

"You want me to show you the fingering, sweetheart?"

I blushed, gazing back at him, his lips slightly curled but otherwise poker faced. Typical Dave.  His eyes were like nets for my quickening breath. 

Dave chuckled with a smirk. He looked down at me, admiring my flustered cheeks. He slowly dropped one hand to my hip and pulled me closer, holding me against his strong, worked out body.

"Don't be shy now... You asked for some help with the chords and you'll get it. But I have a few conditions–" The lights flickered and then the room was darkness. 

Dave looked around the dim room, the only light now coming from the soft glow of the fireplace. "Fuck..."

The sudden fading of the room around us felt like floating in a sensory deprivation chamber, every rise and fall of his breath against me sending shivers down my spine in the absence of our surroundings.

"Looks like it's nothing but the two of us for a while, sweetheart. Hope you're prepared to spend a long time in the dark with me. It'll give me plenty of time to show you the… chords."

"BEEP BEEP BEEP REPORTS OF POWER OUTAGES IN MONROE…"

Dave was absolutely enjoying the effect the darkness had on me. He always saw right through my best efforts at rock n roll toughness–I was so easily flustered, and being in the dark was definitely exacerbating it. I could hear my own nervousness and excitement in my little breaths and undoubtedly he could hear it too.

"Come on…" He leaned into my ear with a whisper, giving my hips a squeeze. He put his lips against the side of my neck, just barely touching the skin. The vibration of his words against my throat awakening my heat. "Let's sit on the couch over there and get comfortable. You still want to learn the chords don't you?"

Dave grabbed a guitar and carried it over to the couch. He could see the way I stumbled around in the darkened room, bumping into chairs and things as my feet tried to feel their way. He gently placed a hand in front of me and guided me over to the couch.

"Watch your step, sweetheart. You're all over the place…" He teased in a soft tone, still enjoying how the darkness had me flustered. As we got to the couch he laid the guitar against the edge of the couch and sat down, stretching his arms out and pulling me close to him, situating me between his legs and wrapping an arm around my waist. I could feel his smirk in the air, but in the cold room he was warmth. 

"There we go." He said, his lips tickling my ear. "Much better." He slowly traced the tip of my inner thigh, his touch feather-like, before putting the guitar across my lap.

I tried to regain my cool. "Oh, so the secret to Dave Mustaine's playing is having an extra pair of hands?"

"You've figured it out, sweetheart. That's my big secret. I just need a pretty, little thing to have on my lap while I play..."

"For warmer tone, of course..." I replied slyly.

He pulled me tightly against his lap, his hands snaking under my shirt and pulling up at the hem until the heat from his chest radiated against my bare back.

"Very observant, sweetheart. You're picking up on things fast. Seems like someone is ready for a more… advanced lesson." He whispered in my ear.

Dave gently reached out and put his hands over mine, situating them into the correct position for the chords. His large, muscular, and callused hands held my own small, lithe (albeit callused) hands. He curled his lips, noticing how the size difference made me look so small compared to him.

"There we are. Now try it, sweetheart." He said, keeping his hands over mine, his lips brushing against my ear. His chest lightly grazed my back as he spoke, the faint scent of cigarettes and ambrette filling my nostrils.

Dave smiled, watching me play. He couldn't help but admire how my body moved and how I concentrated on the chords while his muscular frame was pressed against me from behind. I struggled to focus on the music with the electric feel of his hand on top of mine, his arm around my waist, and his warm breath against my neck. His every touch made my skin tingle.

"That's it… keep going… mmm, you're doing great sweetheart…"

I could feel Dave's steady gaze. I loved getting to show off in my element, passionate and focused and skilled; He slowly moved his hands away from mine, allowing me to play on my own while his arms curled around me, keeping me pulled against his chest.

"'Atta girl. You know what you're doing, sweetheart. That's right. Like that." He muttered into my ear, nuzzling the side of my neck as I played, his nose and lips setting my skin alight while his wavy hair fell around me, perching on my bare chest. I couldn't help but gasp lightly at his tender sensuality, giving me the kind of attention I craved from him.

"Mmmm… don't tense up now… keep your hands relaxed." He teased as my body reacted to his grazing hands. I felt him lightly nip at my earlobe before speaking again, his tongue just barely flicking against my ear.

"Keep going, sweetheart. You're doing so well. Let's try it a little faster." 

I picked up the tempo. He shifted his arms tighter around me, my back against his chest with no space in between, the sturdiness of his muscular torso scaffolding his embrace. I could feel his body already responding in his jeans and couldn't help but shift into him every time I changed chords.

"BLACK ICE DANGERS! GAS PUMPS OUT OF SERVICE IN THE FOLLOWING COUNTIES…"

"m'uugh just like that, sweetheart. Keep going…" He whispered, his hot lips brushing against the side of my neck as his hands crept along my body, tracing every contour.

"You like it when I touch you like this, don't you?" He whispered.

"m'Dave. Show me something harder." I whine.

"Something harder? I think I can work with that." He chuckled, pausing for a moment before continuing. "Why don't you put down the guitar, sweetheart?"

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡.｡❅* ...to be continued... read Part II here

______________________________________________________________

submission for @mustainegf contest #1

[gothic-thoughts]

Lost and Found

(Happy Thanksgiving Yall)

Kyoujurou Rengoku x Black Fem Reader Angst (fluff)

RoyalAU, Princess!Reader, FriendstoLoversAU

CW: frostbite, implied parent death, Shinjurou is emperor, childhood friends

Word Count: 1057 (give or take)

My weak legs twitch, sending a spike of pain up my spine. I have to move, or I'll freeze to death. The faint sound of galloping draws near, now with the metal clanking to the rhythm of the horse's steps. Tears stream down my face as I try to scream for help only to have a small whimper rip from my tired and parched throat. The loud trotting slows to a stop no more than 10 feet away before something heavy drops to the gravel and quickly crunches toward me.

"My lady!" He crouches next to me and pulls my freezing body against his chest, "What's happened to you? Were you--?"

My tiara slips from my head and clangs against the pebbles of the road. Through my blurry vision, I watch as his worried gaze snaps to the headdress then back at my reddened face, horror consuming his eyes.

"A...a princess?" He whispered, "Who's done this to you?! Never mind; let's get you to safety. You'll be safe at the palace, you have my word."

Palace? He settles his grip behind my back and lifts my thighs, carrying me back to his horse. He sat on its back and had me in front and facing him to pull my face, body, and arms into his jacket. Feeling his body heat, I pass out against his chest.

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

I jolt awake and sit up at the sound of crackling and shuffling in my room. I quickly sit up to see a young woman putting wood into the furnace across from the bed I was on. It was a massive red and dark brown canopy, the silky sheets sliding underneath me as my body settled to the mattress. 

"Aw, I'm sorry, miss. The fire was dying down." She soothed, "Have to keep you warm, don't we?"

"Right...where am I?"

"You're in the Hashira Palace; I'm your chambermaid, Sumika. I got you all cleaned up and back to your old self. You had us all worried; you were asleep for a while."

"What? But I passed out no more than a few hours ago."

"That was yesterday, Miss. You've been asleep for around 13 hours; it's seven o'clock now."

"Thirteen!? And I'm just now waking up?!"

"Yes, Miss. Would you like to speak with Emperor Shinjuro?"

"Yes, yes, please! It's been a while, and I need a familiar face."

"Well, I'll be right back with your clothes."

She puts down the fire poker and dusts her hands off before she disappears into the closet. When the wooden door opened again, Sumika walked out cradling a blue lace-lined dress. I step out of the bed and happily slip on the silky azure fabric, the skinny straps hugging into my shoulders which put the dress in a position to show just a little bit of cleavage.

Sumika led me out of the room and down the candlelit corridor to another room and knocked loudly. Once the king allows me inside she bows and leaves.

"Come in!" The Emperor's voice yelled.

"Princess (Y/n)'s awake and dressed Your Highness," Sumika says, opening the door enough to let me in, "There you go."

"Thank you."

"Emperor Shinjuro." I bow, "Thank you so much for--"

"Nonsense."

"Excuse me?"

"You're the daughter of my best friend; ‘Shinjuro’ is just fine, (Y/n)."

"But we've only met a couple--"

"I owe your father my life; the very least I could do is take care of his daughter in his....absence."

"Absence?" I scoff, laughing nervously, "Thank you, Shinjuro for your concern, but I'm confused."

He sighs, "What do you remember?"

"Nothing much." I say, voice breaking, "I was upstairs in my room when I heard guards rushing past my door. I thought nothing of it until my chambermaid ran into my room and told me marauders were attacking the palace."

"Hmm..."

"I don't even know she escaped..." my voice breaks, my lungs heaving for breath, "She stayed back to barricade the door in case someone heard me escaping from the corridor."

"Well...while you were resting, I had my guards investigate the palace and it seems the fire was started in your throne room."

"No...no, I'm sure it had to be the sitting room." Tears roll down my face faster than I can wipe, "That's where our furnace is, Shinjuro. It couldn't be the throne room because how....h-how would the fire start?"

"My knights found evidence of a Molotov cocktail there, (Y/n). I...I don't know how else to...."

Before I can open my mouth to speak, two loud and heavy knocks thunder from the wooden door shortly before it swings open. A well-built man in a white and flame-patterned haori rushes past me and stands before the Emperor's desk. The man turns to me for a quick bow.

"My apologies, but I must..." He blinks and his jaw drops, "(Y/n)?"

My tears stopped flowing with confusion, allowing me to wipe the excess on my cheeks as he happily stepped closer.

“How do you know me?”

“It’s me, Kyojuro!”

"Kyojuro...?”

He nods happily, leaning in to show off his features a little better. I raise an eyebrow at him, examining his features from his fiery hair and the fiery gradient in his irises. I note his round jawline and wide eyes and my eyebrows finally raise in realization.

“Ren!”

"Yes!"

We pull each other into a strong embrace as flashbacks of the times we played hide-and-seek in my garden and caused mischief around his palace flooded my mind. I smile into his chest and squeeze harder, feeling his hands sink into me before we pull away, looking at each other lovingly.

“You got...bigger." He smiles longingly, "N-not like...I meant, like 'older'. Older-bigger.”

“Well, you certainly got bigger. I'm surprised you didn't hit your head on the doorframe when you walked in."

He chuckles, "I mean it has been 11 years. Last we saw each other, I believe I was convincing you to eat worms."

"Tried convincing me."

"Heh, yes of course."

"And maybe I would've fallen for it if they weren't covered in dirt."

"Perhaps that may have been a factor."

"So, after being my nutritionist, you became a knight?"

"During the war, Father was away and I was in charge so I trained as much as I could and now I'm the Head of the royal fleet."

“Impressive. All I did was learn how to ride a horse, play violin, and archery. My...mother taught me."

My smile fades, and he does the same before he suddenly knelt and bowed his head to me.

"Ren?"

"My apologies. In my haste, I never properly showed empathy for your loss. My deepest condolences, princess."

I smile sadly, lifting his chin, "If it's all the same to you, Ren, I prefer (Y/n)."

He stands up and adjusts his shirt when I suddenly hug him again, my heart pounding as I bury my face into his neck. I feel him sigh as he holds me close and rubs my back.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

I hum, melting into his touch. "I missed you." A happier tear slipped from my eye.

"I've missed you more."

"My apologies for breaking up your moment...

  We quickly withdrew from our embrace and straightened up to give the emperor, who was sitting back down, our undivided attention. He chuckles lightly.

"Are you hungry, (Y/n)?"

"Oh yes, I haven't eaten since yesterday."

"I'm sure. Kyoujuro?"

"Right!" Ren smiles, "I'll show you to the kitchen, Shinobu can make you something while we catch up."

"I never thought you of all people would gain charm and maturity in adulthood."

"Oh please, I've always had charm." He laughs, "After you then."

[maybankswife]

Falling for him part 1

JJ Maybank x Fem Kook Reader

slight Rafe Cameron x Fem Kook Reader

Summary-

You and Sarah have been best friends for years, but soon its all about to change.

Warnings-

Swearing, mentions of weed, unedited work

A/N:

Just letting you guys know,

F/L/Y/N stands for the First letter of your name, so when I was talking about the necklaces this is what I meant, I completely forgot to put the meaning of it when I posted earlier!!!

“Workers of the world unite!” JJ yelled out from across the party, his arm up in the air and his hand wrapped around his wrist.

You turned around, your long navy-blue dress flowed freely. Your hair was put up in a y2k styled half up half down, your body was laced with gold jewelry dangling on your flesh. You could see Kiara and Pope running out of midsummers, met with JJ and John B. You watched, and had no idea what was going, you made your way over to your best friend Sarah. You saw her, watching in awe as the Pogues departed from midsummers.

“What’s going on?” you asked her, she lifted an eyebrow at you. confusion painted on her face.

“I don’t know Y/N” she said, she sounding annoyed. You scoffed at her. You knew she had gone to the mainland with John B a few days ago, why was she lying to you about it?

“Stop lying Sarah, you went to Charleston with John B a few days ago” you had to yell over the loud music, and overlining conversations. She grabbed you by the wrist and started dragging you to a quieter spot, further away from the hustle of the party.

“Why does it matter?” she asked you, crossing her arms and leaning up against a pillar.

“It doesn’t” you shouted back, “I just want to know what’s going on” you sighed, you hadn’t spoken to Sarah the whole party, and she had been avoiding you and not answering your text messages.

“Do you promise to not get mad?” she questioned you again, you looked at her. Your eyes met hers, she looked anxious to say whatever it was that was about to fall out of her mouth. You nodded and waited for her response.

“I went to the mainland to help John B with something” she cleared her throat “and we may or may not have kissed” her arms dropped to her side, she looked relived that she was able to say that out loud.

“Wait what!?” You replied in shock with what you just heard.

“What about Topper?” you continued, she looked up at you giving you a gentle look.

“I’m going to break up with him, tomorrow” she explained, standing up straight and dusting her dress off.  

“Okay… So are you friends with the pogues now” you lifted an eyebrow, she rolled her eyes at you. Sarah, you, and Kiara used to be best friends, a trio, but she abandoned you guys for the group of boys.

“I don’t know, depends on how things go I guess” she shrugged, you waked towards her and wrapped you arm around the back of her neck and walked together back to the party.

1:47 AM

Your phone started buzzing on your bedside table, it woke you up. You rolled over and unplugged your phone from the charger.

Sarah Cam incoming phone call

You answered the call

“Hello?” Sarah said on the other line, she sounded distressed.

“What’s going on” you replied, sitting up in your bed.

“John B fell from the hawk’s nest, Topper shoved him” you could hear someone shouting in the background, it sounded like JJ.

“Oh my god Sarah what happened!” you pulled the covers off of you and stood up, pacing around the room.

“John B can you open your eyes?” Sarah pleaded with him, it was muffled.

“Pope hurry!”

wait, was that Kiara?

“Sarah what the hell is going on? Do you need help?” you called out, you heard her pick up the phone.

“I need to go Y/N” she hung up the phone. What the fuck just happened.

You ran over to your dresser and slipped on a light blue summer dress and your white converse. You snuck out of your house and grabbed the keys to your car. You got in and drove straight to the hawk’s nest.

You pulled up to the gravel parking space and saw the infamous twinkie. You switched off your car and got out. You walked over to the twinkie, it reeked of weed and sweat. Your nose twitched at the smell of it. But the twinkie being here meant they were still here too. You ran in the direction of the hawk’s nest, once you were close enough you could here the Pogues and Sarah arguing over what to do. You walked up behind them and pushed in front of JJ and Kiara to get to Sarah.

“What the fuck happened Sarah” she looked up at you, here eyes red and tear-stained cheeks. John B was unconscious on the grass next to her.

“Look who we have here, [Name] Palmer” JJ called out, a smirk drawn on his lips. You turned around giving him a petty smile.

“What are you doing here Y/N” Kiara questioned. You moved your focus from JJ to her.

“I could ask you the same question” you replied slyly, and turning back around to Sarah, she was placing small kisses on John Bs lips, gentle and tender. You could hear ambulance sirens getting closer and closer to the hawk’s nest.

Once the ambulance arrived, Sarah was the one that went with John B. As for you and the Pogues you made you way back to the carpark. “So, what’s a princess like yourself doing here” JJ teased, a smile on his face from ear to ear. You rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms and standing up against your car door. The way the pet name rolled of his tongue like it was normal, was abnormal. You’ve only ever spoken to JJ at parties when he’s drunk and has tried to hit you up.  

“I got a call from my friend, I came to help her” you responded, JJ was getting closer to you, inch by inch he towered over you. he looked down at you, your knees felt weak under your body threatening to cave in at any moment.

“Hmm” he hummed, looking you up and down “you sure you’re not here to see me” he leaned in closer, you could smell the weed on him, his clothes reeked of it. You lifted your arm and pushed him back.

“Nope.” You answer back, his face was so cocky he knew what he was doing, and he was doing it well. You turned around and opened your car door.

“You know where to find me” he raised his arm and pointed a finger at you, winking. You scoffed and scooted into your seat, slamming the car door shut. Within a matter of seconds, you had driven off, only leaving a trail of lifted dust behind you.  

You arrived home just after 3:00 AM, exhausted. Going through your front door was difficult, especially because your dog Oakley’s bed was just up the hallway. You opted for the good old window entrance, you walked around the side of your house locating your bedroom window hidden amongst overgrown vines, various plants, and flowers. Slid it open, one foot in, followed by the other. Finally, home. You shut the window, leaning over the daybed that sits in front of your window. You walked over to the pajamas that you were wearing earlier, you had left them on the floor. You kicked off your Converse and glided out of your blue dress exposing your naked body. Pulling the satin shirt over and pulling the satin shorts up. You were ready to sleep, you retied your hair into a loose messy bun and jumped into bed.

It’s been a few days since the John B falling off of the hawk’s nest incident, you haven’t really spoken to Sarah since she’s been ghosting you for the past few days; not replying to your texts, ignoring your calls and she hasn’t been at her house every time you went to check. This is the last time you were going to message her, she better have a reasonable explanation as to why she has been ghosting you.

“Sarah wtf y have u been ghosting me?” sent.

You watched the message go through. So, she hasn’t blocked you…

‘Read’ popped up underneath your message. Great.

The typing bubble appeared.

“I’m so sorry Y/N/N John B thought it would be funny to keep me and Kiara on a boat in the middle of the marsh”

Oh. She’s been hanging out with them.

“what? You’ve been ghosting me 4 them” sent.

“come to the chateau right now”

Seriously? Your being dragged to the that shit hole, you turned your phone off and went up to your room. You searched your dresser for the perfect outfit, for some reason you felt like impressing them.

You fished out a white bikini, an orange cropped tank top with a cute graphic on it, short denim shorts and your navy-blue converse. You changed into it, hopping it would be up to “Pogue standards”. Or maybe just “JJs standards”… you put on your necklace stack, of 2 gold chains one with a sun charm that is incrusted with diamonds, and the second with a F/L/Y/N charm. You grabbed your Pura Vida bracelet stack and slid it onto your wrists, followed by your ring stacks for both hands. Lastly gold hoops to wrap everything up. A roll of your favourite coconut scented deodorant, a lot of spray of your favourite summery perfume, along with the body spray you use on top of it.

You rushed out of your room, running into the living room where your mum was,

“Hey mum, I’m heading out with Sarah” you had to lie, because the number of times your parents have complained about the pogues, specifically JJ, your mum would kill you if she knew where you were actually going. You tucked your hair behind your ear, waiting for a response. Your mum, who was sat on the couch looked up at you with a gentle smile and her glasses resting further down on her nose than what they should be.

“Sure, thing sweetie, be safe” your mum replied, she always said yes as long as you were with Sarah. You ran over to her, giving her a tight squeeze,

“Thank you!” you praised, letting go of her and speed walking into the hallway. On your entry table there was a decorative bowl that held your car keys in it, but instead of going by car you decided to take your bike. You walked out the front door and over to the garage where the bikes are stored. You opened the door and walked in, being wafted with the smell of petrol, paint, and rubber. You walked over to your bike, its white, and has a lil basket on the front of it. Perfect. You knew where the chateau is because of the few parties you’ve been to there, so you steered your bike out of the garage and got on and started pedalling.

You’ve been riding for 5 minutes, still 20 more minuets till you can get there. You reached into the basket and grabbed out your phone, shuffling your summer playlist and the song “Megaton Mile” by Local Natives started playing. You turned it up, almost full volume and chucked your phone back into the basket. The song was playing at midsummers the other night, you actually requested it because it is one of your favourite gems. You continued riding, letting your hair fly in the salty wind, small beads of sweat falling from your forehead because of the humidity, and breathing in the fresh air. Its been awhile since you’ve ridden your bike around the OBX and it feels just as euphoric, if not more than the last time you had.

You were getting close to the bridge that connects the Kook side of the Island to the Pogues. The song “Boys don’t Cry” by The Cure was playing. A large rev of an engine startled you, you looked behind you to see who it was, but your bike went off the pavement causing you to fall off.

“Fuck!” you cursed out, lying on the grass of someone’s lawn. You were on your side, leaning on your elbow, your hair has fallen over your face and over your shoulder. You rolled over, putting yourself in a sitting position with your legs stretched out. Pushing your hair back, you see a familiar car pull up next to you.

The window of the car rolls down, and a familiar face sticks his head out the window. It's Rafe, Sarah's brother. He has always had a thing for you, but you have never fallen for him, he’s just not your type plus he’s your best friend’s brother. His cocky laugh belched out,

“No way I just saw that” he called out from the car, he was looking dead at you, no sign of sympathy on his face.

“Seriously Rafe, fuck you” you spat back at him, pulling your elbow up and seeing a large gash on it, already pooling with blood. You looked down at your knees, they are also scuffed up, stinging like hell and bleeding too.

“Calm down, your fine” he teases back at you, getting out of his Range Rover. He walks over to you, and offers you, his hand. You look up at him through your lashes, he was still smiling, thinking this was funny. You were covered in mud now. You grabbed his hand, tightening your grip on his hand you pulled him down onto the grass with you. You stood up quickly and looked down at him now on the ground.

“What is wrong with you!” he shouted at you, tensing his jaw.

“Calm down, your fine” you respond, giggling at the look on his face. He scoffed at you and stayed on the floor. Probably to humbled to move. You walked over to your phone which had flew out of your basket when you fell off, luckily it had landed on the grass and not the concrete. You picked it up the song “Time to Pretend” by MGMT has just started playing. You lifted your bike up and put your phone back in the basket, and pedalled away, leaving Rafe behind.  

Finally, you had arrived at the Chateau. You rode your bike all the way up to the front porch, you got off and grabbed your phone. You walked up to the door, knocking on it. You could hear a muffle of voices conversating, and a few heavy footsteps made their way over to the door. Your heart beating faster every time they took a step closer. The wooden door swung open, John B standing in front of you,

“Hey” you sighed, wiping sweat off your forehead. He had a blue cast on his wrist and was alive so that’s a good thing.

“Uh... hey” he croaked out, standing sideways and gesturing for you to come in, “Uhm, come in” he continued.

“Thanks” you responded, walking past John B and into the house. The walls were covered in photos of John B and his dad, as well as a ton of baby photos of him and JJ. You looked around, floor to celling made out of wood, it was cozy. Sarah turned around the corner, a relieved look on her face when she saw you in the hallway.

“Oh my god I was so scared you weren’t coming!” She sped walked over to you, wrapping her arms around you. you groaned because your back was aching from flying off your bike earlier. You wrapped your arm around her, and just as you did, she let go of you. John B was standing behind you,

“Okay let’s go sit with everyone” he cleared his throat, putting his hand on your shoulder almost pushing you forward. Sarah grabbed onto your hand, leading you to the back porch where Kiara, Pope and JJ are sitting.

“So, first Sarah, now Y/N? seriously John B, you may as well invite Rafe over too” Kiara sneered out, looking at you up and down you gave her a bitchy smile. Sarah sat down on a couch, next to John B, the only other spot was next to JJ who was sharing a couch with Pope.

“JJ move over” you instructed, he looked up at you with an amused look. You rolled your eyes. He moved over slightly still leaving barely any room for you, but if you were becoming a ‘Pogue’ you may as well get used to it. You squeezed in next to JJ, in between him and the couches arm rest. There was plenty of room for him to move closer to pope, but nope he was refusing to budge any further.

“Okay now that Y/N is here, we need to catch her up on what’s been going on” Sarah said, looking over at John B for validation in what she just said.

“Uhm… yep, okay. So, Sarah helped me into the archives in Charleston, there we found a letter from Denmark Tanny, a slave, a local landowner, and a sole survivor of the Royal Merchant” your eyes widened, now you’re interested.

“He wrote a letter to his son, Robert in a lost Creole language, Gullah. I took this letter to my history teacher Mr Sunn, who translated the letter. Denmark Tanny saved the gold from the Royal Merchant and brought it ashore, using it to buy his freedom Tanny Hill plantation, in other words Sarahs home, and used it to buy the freedom of other slaves. He wrote the letter to his son on the day he was hung, in a secret language that only they know, telling him where to find the gold. Harvest the wheat, in Parcel 9, near the water. Wheat is code for ‘gold’. Then Sarah gave me an original survey map of Parcel 9 and Tanny Hill at the Hawks Nest, and I got pushed off by topper. Then we made Sarah and Kie stay on a boat together to figure out their differences, and now we are here.” John B finished off, it felt like he was talking forever.

Falling for him part 2

[fiori7ura]

but strangely, he feels at home in this place

TW: body dysphoria, self-doubt, mentions of panic attacks & death, fear, depression-ish, trans max & steve, don't like, don't read.

(modern au, no upside down, max uses she/her but it changes halfway through, steve is also trans, max & steve have a brotherly bond — author is afab but on the transgender spectrum and goes through body dysphoria and confusion all the time)

→ i've been writing this on ao3, it isn't posted yet because it isn't finished, but i wanted to post what i already have on here :) it's all rough draft, so expect for there to be grammar mistakes or things nto worded correctly. there are italics galore in this, but i copy & pasted it from ao3 so it deleted the layout it was in, and my phone makes everything lag when i try and do italics on here, so, yeah, no italics, just imagine them in parts when needed lmao — read tags & warnings, thx!!

title from 'this is home' by cavetown!!

——— ★ ———

Yeah, you could say that Max never fully fit in with girls her age. She skated, hung around guys, scuffed her shoes with dirt and mud, crude sayings and drawings scribbled with black sharpie and in messy handwriting on the toes of her sneakers she got from Goodwill.

Her life was good for a while, until it wasn't. She woke up one day with panic and realization coursing through her veins, crying until her lungs gave out and she hyperventilated, screaming into her pillow.

Panic attack, Max's brain supplies from the old memory of her lessons with her school counselor, Mrs. Kelley.

Small things trigger them, and ever since Billy passed in the mall fire, they happen more than ever. Max wishes she could go back to that summer, when there were no worries in the world, before Billy died, before she and her Mom had to move into a crappy trailer park across from the Munsons.

The bad thoughts cloud Max's mind again, and she shakes her head like a wet dog coming in from the rain.

She gets up and throws on basketball shorts that come down to her knees and a threadbare, gray Hawkins Tigers shirt that she stole from Steve, her tightest, most concealing bra she owns strapped on underneath. Max shoves her hair in a haphazard low bun, taking a quick glance in the mirror, not even bothering to look for too long. Staring into her reflection is bad. It makes Max notice all the impurities and small problems about herself that makes her want to shatter the glass, break it into little pieces on the carpet below her.

Max prays that one day, she could just sink into the floor and disappear. Maybe then, things would be easier. She wouldn't have to worry about her impending doom of her crush on El and the dark thoughts that flood her mind daily, time and time again.

Max steps outside of her trailer, spotting Steve's car parked over at Eddie's. He's sitting on the porch steps, cigarette in his hand, smoke stirring out of his mouth.

She wishes to be like Steve. Wants it. Hopes for it. In her mind, he's selfless and resilient. He came out to everyone without a single trace of doubt, and everyone supported him when he said he didn't feel like a girl. That was three years ago. Max was only 12. She's now 15, drowning in her sorrows and regret.

She stumbles over the gravel that lines the ground, feet carrying her to cross the distance between the two trailers. Steve looks up from his crisp, white Nike Cortez shoes, a smile lighting his whole face up when he sees Max.

"You know those things'll kill you, right?"

Steve snorts, tilting his head like a dog. "Hello to you, too, Max. You sound like Rob, you know that?"

Max just scoffs, the smile on her face betraying the way she's trying to act. "Whatever you say, Mom. I'm not taking the blame from Dustin when you die from smoking on those cancer sticks."

"Sure," Steve says behind a smirk as he puts out his cigarette and dusts his hands off on his jeans, imaginary dirt spreading around the air. "If you're asking for a ride, just know that I'm about to be leaving. Just let me tell Eddie bye, 'kay?"

"Okay," Max echoes, laughing. "Go get your boyfriend!" She yells when Steve turns around to go inside, mimicking kissing and hugging, wrapping her hands around herself and making obnoxious smooching noises. Steve flips her off behind his back. She can almost hear the faint mumble of smart ass kid come from his mouth, which causes her to laugh even harder, head lolling back on a cackle.

——— ★ ———

They're halfway through the drive back to Steve's house when Max breaks the silence, Stevie Nicks playing low on the radio, music drifting through the speakers of his Beamer. "Could I, uh, ask you something? You gotta promise not to say anything about this conversation, because if you do, I'll blackmail you and send Eddie all the embarrassing photos of you from when you worked at Scoops."

Steve whips his head to look at Max, almost surprised look on his face as he lets out a disbelieving laugh, airy and light.

"Okay, kiddo. Shoot."

Her feet are propped up on the dash, and her pulse is rabbiting. "How did you know?"

Steve raises a questionable eyebrow towards her direction, nose wrinkling. "What d'you mean, 'know'?"

Shit, shit, shit.

"No, nevermind, actually. It's stupid," Max sighs. "It's stupid," she repeats, again and again, flipping the word around on her tongue.

"Hey, no, don't just dodge my question like that, Mayfield. Be honest. I doubt it's as stupid as you actually say it is. Spill your guts, c'mon. Like you do at those girly sleepovers of yours."

And, oh.

Girly sleepovers.

Max doesn't like that. Bile swirls in her stomach and she digs her nails into her palm, leaving crescent moons in her skin's wake, jaw clenching and teeth grinding down against each other.

Steve clearly notices he did something wrong, because he quickly pulls into his driveway and puts the car in park, unbuckling to turn and look at Max.

"What's wrong, firecracker? Tell me, please. It won't hurt to just say what's on your mind."

Max shakes her head, eyes downcast and frown placed onto her face. "When did you know you didn't want to be a girl?" Max whispers, voice small and weak sounding, even to her own ears.

Steve grabs Max's hand and holds it oh-so-gently, the angel he is.

"I always subconsciously knew when I was younger, I guess? I never wanted to wear dresses or look pretty. I wanted to feel like a boy. I always got mad when my teachers would split the class into girls and boys. I would try to go with the guys, and my teachers would usher me back into the girls side, telling me that I'm a girl, not a boy. Kids would laugh and point at me for it,"

Steve pauses, getting teary eyed.

"And I didn't fully recognize how I felt inside until after I met Robin and everybody else. I got assured that it was normal to feel like this, so then I recognized how to love myself and my body. I understood that I was a boy, that I am a boy, and I should be proud of who I am."

Max lets out a wet laugh, tears threatening to spill over and around her eyelids.

"I don't think I'm a girl, y'know, at all."

Max looks at Steve through glimmering eyes, and he pulls her into a hug, squeezing her, comfort washing over her body like a cold shower. "I'm so proud of you, Red. So, so proud. I love you, so much."

That's when the tears really start to flow. Max hugs Steve right back, laughing with hurt and love and peace and too many emotions that flood his body.

"You're the best brother I could've asked for, Steve."

They stay like that for minutes on end, time drifting together; Steve rocking Max back and forth in his arms, tears from Max staining his polo shirt.

Steve pulls back first, still holding Max's hand. "And you're the best brother I could've asked for. You're a boy, don't doubt that, Max."

Max wipes at his eyes. "Did I ever mention how much I love you, Steven Belinda Harrington?"

Steve sputters with laughter, letting go of Max's hand. "Belinda? That's the best you could come up, Mayfield? I thought I was the best brother you've ever had?"

"I'll take it back, Belinda, trust me, don't think I won't," Max laughs, punching at Steve's shoulder, not a touch of violence or hate behind it.

[thepayloadisgay]

Ramji

Ramattra/Genji pwp. Slight dubcon? Wrote this in a genjussy haze in an hour on my phone. Enjoy 😭

----------

"So soft."

Ramattra's hand glides along the line of Genji's spine, metal denting into real, synthetic. An amalgam of no, of yes.

"Malleable."

Words drags along Genji's head, edge of his face splitting hair. His voice rings in Genji's ears.

A bell that tolls.

It smothers the sound of his body against ground, gouging a line, printing shape to stone. His heartbeat, caught.

But not the way he moans.

A noisy fucking brat, he hears. But it isn't Ramattra. It isn't now. Memory making something else.

Ramattra laughs though. Says something Genji can't understand as his hand spreads over his ass, the other shoving his thigh to the side, knee crushing one to floor. There.

"Tell me." Finger to the join of pelvis, thigh bone. A shiver. Shudder. "Are humans always this wet." To the edge of his cunt.

Genji swears, palm slides across stone. Skin breaks. Blood to bones.

"You just going to look, or do something?" goads Genji, pushing the hair off his forehead, smearing blood he didn't mean.

Ramattra's still.

A curious sound as he leans closer, metal and wires a music as he shifts, thighs surrounding Genji in repose.

"Do you want me to ask you to beg?"

Genji almost answers. But just smiles into stone, gravel on his lips.

"Didn't think so."

It feels like Ramattra holds his spine in palm, and when he thrusts, it feels like he wants to pull it out.

Genji might even let him if it would still feel this fucking good, cock shoved, shoved in again, hitting hard and so fucking far. Genji can't breathe. Pain is pleasure is pain.

Eyes wet. Cunt wet. Hand wet with blood.

"This it?" Genji knows he'll suffer for that.

He's moved a foot across the ground, lifted more.

Genji tries to breathe, but finds Ramattra's fingers sunk in his mouth. Strange, that it's gentle. Genji touches. Something like guiding his hand, showing him the way his tongue feels. The shape of his teeth Genji wants to bite down, but would only break.

His breath fogs metal the faster Ramattra fucks. And his moan rattles through his arm, shaking even Ramattra, his foot clawing over ground.

"For you?-" He looks down at Genji's soaked cunt, stretched and sore from his cock, their thighs wet, catching dust and debris.

Hand to hair, blood and sweat, Ramattra pulls. Genji tries to breathe.

"-this is it."

[bitchinbarzal]

Last Night | Josh Norris

summary; song fic based on morgan wallens ‘last night’

-

Last night we let the liquor talk. I can't remember everything we said but we said it all.

You told me that you wish I was somebody you never met but baby, baby somethin's tellin' me this ain't over yet

No way it was our last night.

“Dude what happened last night?” Quinn asks, leaning back on the boat to see Josh clearer.

He chuckled “I don’t even know man. We went to bed and then I met her in the hallway like after midnight and then she came back to my bed”

“Just like we’re back in college!” Will laughs loudly and Josh rolls his eyes.

Nick sips his beer “You two are the most confusing couple ever”

It’s silent for a few moments and Josh takes a long swig from his can before he mumbles “she told me she doesn’t want to do this anymore… she found someone else”

your head lay on his naked chest as it rose and fell with his bated breaths “I sometimes with i hadn’t met you”

josh looks down at you, confused “what?”

“we always do this josh we fuck and then the next week I see you on twitter with some girl down your throat in a club”

“y/n…”

you sat up, sheet covering your exposed chest “this was our last night josh. I mean it”

“Do you believe her?” Quinn questions, a skeptical look on his face.

Josh shakes his head “Nah, this isn’t over yet”

It wasn’t ever over with you two. you’d been hooking up since college and now here you were years later in the same position while spending your summer at the lake house with your friends.

I kiss your lips make you grip the sheets with your fingertips

Last bottle of Jack we split a fifth Just talk about life goin' sip for sip

You, you know you love to fight and I say shit I don't mean

But I'm still gon' wake up wantin' you and me

Coming close to the end of the summer and you still hadn’t given up with Josh yet.

You went at it every single night — fighting and screaming at him before he would take you to bed and you’d be back at square one.

“They’re so fucking loud!”

“What the fighting or the fucking?” Nick laughs.

“Both, they’re insufferable!”

Josh hears as he enters the kitchen and steals a bagel from Quinn “Well boys only three more days before you all get to sleep soundly again”

Will threw a strawberry at Josh and boo’ed him

“The sex I can deal with but the screaming�� I hate hearing y/n shouting”

“Maybe if Josh would stop fucking up i wouldn’t be shouting” you mumbled, entering the kitchen and sitting next to Nick.

That rendered everyone silent and Josh have a tight lip smile and a shrug “guess we won’t stop hearing the shouting soon then”

No way it was the last night that we break up

I see your tail lights in the dust You call your momma, I call your bluff

In the middle of the night, pull it right back up

Yeah my, my friends say let her go Your friends say what the hell I wouldn't trade your kind of love for nothin' else

You swore this was it. You were screaming at him, telling him that he was hurting you.

“I can’t do this josh! You- you can’t keep hurting me!” You shouted, throwing whatever you could reach at him while grabbing your bags.

“Where are you going?!”

“I’m leaving Josh, I can’t…”

He watched you walk out the door, watching you all the way out to your car. Your car pulling out of the driveway and skidding off into the night.

“She’s gone?” Quinn asks from the bottom of the staircase, having witnessed what just happened.

Josh shrugs “She’ll be back, she’s not going far”

He called your bluff, sending you a text

the door is unlocked when you come back. drive safe.

And like clockwork, at two in the morning he heard the gravel of the driveway crunch under your tires and then you entered the room minutes later.

Josh didn’t speak, simply pulling back the blankets for you and when you lay down he pulled you into his body.

He could feel your body shuddering as you cried softly

“Josh this has to be the last night”

It would never be the last night. You both knew that deep down.

[whereconfusionisarhyme]

you’re on your own kid, you always have been

A Gwen Stacy fan-fiction

603 Words

Ao3 link under the cut

*~*~*

A deep groan rolls out of her like a boulder down a hill, throwing up dust and gritting against gravel.

She collapses against the sink, bent over at the hips with her forehead against the cool, marble countertop.

Her breathing is deep, calculated, mechanical. She grips at her abdomen, nails digging in through her suit, her brain blaring at her to stop, that it’s stupid to claw at yourself like a rabid animal, but her fingers continuing to furl anyways like a machine without an off switch.

She breathes, and then she breathes some more, because that’s all she really can do.

Her eyes dart to the side, double checking that she locked the bathroom when she stumbled in haphazardly. She can barely see past the heat in her cheeks, spreading through her as cold sweat breaks against her skin. Her head pounds, her wild mind beating against her uncompromising skull.

She lets a pained moan escape past her lips, but only that one sound. It only takes one small leak to make the whole dam burst.

The cramp yields for the moment, and she can finally rise again. She pushes herself up, teeth gritted and jaw clenched.

She breathes.

And then she breathes again.

She does not look in the mirror, because that’s unnecessary.

She turns around and leans against the counter, lower back where her hands just were. The hard rock digs into her spine like the worlds worst massage.

She brings her hands around and begins needing the muscle, vainly coaxing it to just relent already, just let her take a full breath in without feeling everything inside her shift.

If Miles were here, he’d help her. He’d sputter, a little embarrassed, and he’d look adorable while doing it. He’d run off to grab some ibuprofen and come back as quickly as possible, swinging by in a bright flash of black and red (Red? Did he even stick to that color? Maybe he got a whole new suit, separated himself from his Peter entirely.) His wide eyes would stare up at her (Up? Down, maybe. Maybe he’d gotten taller. Maybe he’d shot up like a weed, persistent life despite everything thrown at him-)

A new pain shoots through her, causing her to double over again as her breath hitches.

Her watch beeps, and she gathers herself just enough to answer it,

“Hey, hi. Yeah. Hi.”

Jess stares back at her, unamused,

“Gwen, where are you? Can you tell me why you ran away from the battle so quickly?”

Gwen squeezes her thighs together, paradoxically scrunching up to stave off the pain of the cramp. Her brow pinches.

“Oh, I just-”

She takes a deep breath,

“I had to use the bathroom.”

Jess raises an eyebrow at her, and her muscles tense harder.

If she lets go, she’ll fall right apart. Her muscles will fall right off the bone and her skin will slip off her face and she’ll crumple to the ground in a heap of body parts, human only in a clinical sense.

Jess looks her up and down,

“Gwen, if we’re gonna work together, you have to be honest and communicate,”

She’s already turning away to deal with some other matter, typing away,

“I have some pain medication and sanitary products. Come get them.”

Gwen presses her lips together. Her fingers curl.

“Thanks, I’ll...I’m on my way.”

Jess cuts the call.

Gwen rests her arm down at her side, watch now silent. She looks at the bathroom wall, and she stands up properly to ready herself to get back out there.

She breathes.

And then she breathes again.

[kitsuvil]

— liebestraum. [venti x gn!reader]

notes; modern au, romantic fluff for days, first date, venti is end game, technically friends to lovers bcs i don't love stranger to lover romance, this is dedicated to @lilneps /@charasbook and their poor tumblr grounded account

summary; your first romantic date with venti (a friend that's been there for you for months now) knocks your socks off and makes you fall head over heels for hours as he takes you around town from the break of day til the eventide.

words; 2.4k

"I'm still not sure why you insist on making our first date such a big event, Ven," I stretch as I try to shake off the remainder of the fatigue still clinging onto me from the early wake.

"Isn't the first date something you're supposed to remember for years after?" He laughs while opening the car door for me like a gentleman, so I can comfortably sit down.

"Okay, I guess I understand that and it's really sweet I would love a memorable first date... But, it's 6 AM."

"That's the point, you'll see once you realize where I'm taking you! It's a view I've been saving for you!" Venti takes the wheel and drives away from my home.

He offers to stop by a cafe on the way back from the place after seeing the state I'm in, but after managing a quiet "sure", I'm gone, lights out, with the hushed car noises and Venti's humming lulling me into a nap.

I don't stay asleep for long though, being jolted awake by Venti tapping on my shoulder.

"We're here, seems like you're a pretty light sleeper," He backs up after seeing my body come alive again.

"In the passenger seat of a car? I sure am."

I take a look around me, rubbing whatever crust is left on my eyes as I bask in the glory of the crisp morning air. When I can finally process what I'm saying, I feel my feet suddenly grounded as far as they could ever be, stuck directly onto the gravel road.

"Tell me, how long was I actually asleep for?"

"About 30 minutes or so, why?"

"How did I sleep through the entire experience of you driving up a mountain?"

"...Ehe," He shines his grin, almost as if to sprinkle magical glee fairy dust onto me. Nevertheless, it worked. I shut up for a minute and looked over the dark city we lived in. Some shops had glowing lights already, while others wouldn't until a few hours later. The rest of the mountains and some forest speckled the view in the distance, I could see anything I've ever dreamed of. It felt like I was a bird, seeing the world from this high up.

"They say the sun rises in about 5 minutes, you ready to start the day?"

All I can muster is a laugh, still rendered speechless.

"I sure am ready now, but if this is the first thing, I'm almost fearful of what the next could be."

"Well, of course after we get our morning coffee... We're going to spend most of the day at the local Renaissance Fair!"

"The what– Venti? How are we supposed to visit the Renfaire with no outfits, I beg thee to knowledge me?"

"That's the even more fun part, we get our outfits there. Have you seen that trend where people buy things to add onto their outfit at the fair itself?"

"Yes, is that your plan?"

"Yeah, doesn't it sound exciting?"

"Even if it didn't, I couldn't say no to you."

"That's a bad habit to make. If I told you to do 15 pushups right now for good luck, would you do it?"

"For good luck? Sure, why not, I bet you could grant me that luck easily."

"Oh. Well, you would be correct, but that was not the lesson I wanted to teach at all..." Venti trails off as I turn back to the sunrise that's peaking out a good amount by now. The sky is turning a beautiful rose color, mixed in with orange and slightly blue hues from the night previous.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Not as beautiful as you," Venti inches closer to you, surprising you with his arms not more than a second later. "A morning hug, for you."

"Venti, you are–"

"The cutest person ever? I know," He winks before even letting me finish my sentence.

"Let's pretend like I was going to say that, instead of teasing you for being so attached to me."

"You would never!" Venti acts shocked, slightly nudging his shoulder into mine, teasing me back.

"Oh I would," I put as we both turn back to enter the car again and continue our trip. This time, both of us listen to music and dance together silently in the confines of our seats, appreciating the morning between both of us and the sunrise that's still glowing like a goddess all around. We both quickly order our coffee, comparing orders and sharing drinks before heading straight over to the fair.

The aura of the place hits me before the visuals can, the positive energy and voices flowing into me. I can see multiple stalls already set up to keep the excitement running, people decked out in full pirate gear, vampire hunter gear, fae outfits, anything you could name that was magical, it would be here. Many were dressed as their DnD Characters, while others played the role of normal tavern goers in a fantasy world. Many universes collided, all to settle into one location that could house them all.

But Venti and I were in cute going-out outfits. I was happy we'd look entirely different by the end of the day but still, excluding the families who didn't have money or time to dress up, I felt so out of place.

"What's the plan first?"

"Definitely get an outfit base. How about we run around for 5 minutes, find a base to style off, it can be either a basic piece or a center piece, then we group up back here and show off what we got? How does that sound?"

"I thought I was the one running this date... But it's good for me!"

"In that case, ready, set, go!"

I was sure he'd find something in no time, he had an impeccable sense of fashion when it came to this type of thing. Me on the other hand... Sure I could find something, but I might be a little bit picky before I settle on something.

Or not.

The most beautiful piece stands out to me at the first stall I come to, almost drawing me in telepathically. It’s covered in such bewitching designs and colors, I can immediately tell it’s what I’m meant to wear on this day. Maybe this whole creating an outfit idea truly wholeheartedly isn’t that bad. Otherwise, it’s likely this wouldn’t have caught my eye as much.

“I assume you found something?” Venti calls out towards me, rushing over after finishing his first round of shopping and probably seeing me gawking. “Something is an understatement,” I laugh, pointing towards my first purchase of choice.

“A good choice you make, do you wish to buy it?” The lady at the counter of the stand calls out towards us. Before I can say anything or ask for the price, Venti is already taking out his money without hesitation, the syllable of a ‘yes’ sitting on his tongue almost ready to burst out. “Are you sure you want to pay for it without seeing the price? Something that looks this high quality surely must be higher than the roofs in cost…” I mumble off, complaining about his actions. “It’s our day to spend happily, price doesn’t matter! Even if it costs me my entire life savings, I’ll figure out how to pay it off… Somehow.”

“Are you sure about that?” I question with one eyebrow raised at his confidence. “Of course! It’s me, you know how lucky I am! You should be overjoyed to have me around for this kind of thing!”

I roll my eyes, but fall into his convincing attempt at buying the clothes nonetheless. I’ve never been able to deny him, honestly. The bright shine of the sun is nothing compared to the one in his eyes when he gets to experience the taste of freedom and surprise in a way like this.

“Here you go, thanks for shopping!” The lady hands over the garments to Venti, who promptly practically hauls them onto me. “So? Go put it on, I want to see how amazing you’ll look!” He nudges. I shy away in embarrassment, yet partial excitement as I try to navigate myself through the crowd in an attempt to find a changing area.

I don’t take long changing, not wanting to leave Venti alone but regardless, he’ll know where I am without a doubt.

“It’s as if he can almost sense where I am at all times,” I sigh, exiting the dressing room I rented for a minute.

“Who would you be referring to?” The familiar voice comes up from behind me. “You, Venti. The little guy who always wears green and loves to surprise people by showing up out of nowhere?” I turn around after retrieving myself from the scare.

“I am not a little guy, I’m like 5’2… That’s not thaat short,” He whines. “Is that the biggest part you took from that? Please, pay attention to the part where you should stop giving people such a fright instead,” I deny Venti’s complaints about his height. “Now what’s the fun in that?” He gives a teasing frown.

“Maybe it’s less fun for you, but one of these days, you’ll give me a heart attack.”

“Fine, for now, but let’s continue going around the place and look for more clothing pieces!”

The next few hours are a back and forth between buying random accessories that we honestly don’t need anymore, or buying snacks and food from stalls no matter how full we feel. The coffee from earlier is kicking and we are unstoppable! For the most part, at least. But as all good things must come to an end, the fatigue begins to hit us and the sun also begins to set, proving the length of our stay at the fair should draw to a close as well.

“You know what?” Venti faces me, stopping us in the tracks as we walk towards where his car was parked. “What?” My curiosity peaks.

“Today was so fun! I’m sure you know this already though, so I want to show you in another way. Mind if I take you on another small trip before we return home?”

“It can’t hurt, I’d love to see what you have left in store for me.”

“Just a little present for following me around all day without a complaint and also just for being you. I’ll let my guard down for a little and be truthful.”

“Truthful? Were you not being yourself the entire day?” I question as we climb into our seats.

Venti starts the engine, pulling out and starting to take us wherever he planned on.

“Of course I was being myself, but there’s parts of myself that are pretty quiet during the day, you know?”

“I get it, yeah. You don’t have to shut those parts away, I’d happily accept them all.”

“That’s exactly why I trust you, you know exactly what to say to get to my heart.”

“I could say the same, you poetic romantic.”

“Oops, hehe… Either way, I wanted to offer you a compliment. You were beautiful all day today, from the drowsy morning until the slightly tipsy, decked out fully in a magical and medieval outfit nightfall. I loved spending each second with you,” Venti smiles, sharing a glance with me before focusing his eyes back to the road.

“This is exactly what I was just talking about. Thank you.”

We sit in silence, singing along to songs that we listened to at the fair all day every once in a while. I spend minutes looking at the man driving the car in all his glory. By the time of our departure, he ended up with a long and flowing tan skirt, decorated with golden and green adornments all over, like the belt that sits comfortably on his waist, or the brown bag laying on top of his lap. There’s also the emerald necklace he bought two of so that we could match, insisting that we had to treasure it forever. Little did he know I would treasure it for longer than forever.

“Y/N? I can tell you’re staring, take a photo if you really want it to last that long, I don’t mind. Don’t you think I look pretty good driving like this?” Venti brings me out of my trance, leaving me to stare at my lap for a few seconds, embarrassed.

“I was just-”

“There’s no need to cover it up, it’s okay.”

“...”

“Better yet, let’s take plenty of selfies together soon, we’re already here.”

He pulls up into the parking lot of another mountain.

“A mountain in the morning, another at night?” I ask.

“This one is different. Come along!” Venti coaxes me to follow him into a random walkway through some bushes.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re taking me to kill me without a trace,” I joke at the less-traveled route he’s leading me down. “I think the spiders will get you first, watch out!” He looks back, sticking his tongue at me.

“The what?...” I freeze.

“I’m just kidding, you should’ve seen your face!”

“I thought we had enough of the whole… terrifying surprises?”

“This will make up for it, it’s okay.”

We make it out of the bushes and exit into an area with grass, overlooking both the city’s nightlife, but also showcasing one of the most beautiful views I’ve ever laid eyes upon, which is a surprise considering what I saw this morning.

“You took me to go stargazing?” I stare at Venti in shock who is already grinning expectedly.

“Not only stargazing, but also so that I could do this,” He grabs my hand.

The hug he immediately traps me in makes me almost melt into his body, comfort surrounding me. And his arms hold me tight as if they never plan to let go, while his now loose and messy braids that have come almost undone after the excitement of the day hang over me as he places his head on top of my shoulder. And the stars? They glitter over our embrace, as if they’re now only an accessory for us.

Venti looks back up at me, his eyes as colorful as freshly polished jade. He places a soft kiss on my cheek before letting me go, taking a place on the ground and beckoning me to lay down with him.

“That’s my real surprise for you today. I really do like you a lot. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, for allowing me to experience such a dreamlike love.”

a/n; like, comment, and reblog to support the venti + long skirt agenda 👹 this was such a joy to write i'm not even kidding i had so much fun with it and it ended up wayy longer than expected!! and tumblr pls let charlie comment and interact properly already i beg of u to unground their account