#endings are either my most favorite part or least favorite

[nebulousmoon3990]

GHOSTS OF THE PAST (Batfam x neglected hero reader)

I 𓂃› GHOSTS

Warning: neglect (unintentional), Damian being Damian, violence, blood, swearing, sensitive topics, writing errors (English is not my first language) and reader has black hair and blue eyes (sorry), I accept criticism but please don't be rude, everything is fictional!

You consider yourself a good son

I mean, you were never a saint, there were times when you did stupid things and got into trouble with her, but you always managed to solve them. But apparently the universe decided that you weren't good enough.

Not for your family at least.

You were just another product of your father's affair, the only difference is that you were born (something that wasn't supposed to happen) but that's okay! Your mother still loved you and took care of you with all the love she had to offer.

She never spoke openly about your father, but you saw on TV the news about your mother, the great writer from Gotham, with the businessman Bruce Wayne. You were always smart and quickly connected the dots but you didn't question your mother because she was clearly uncomfortable, so you kept quiet and let it go, because you didn't need him. You already had your mother, you already had your uncles, even your little friends from school! You don't need your father.

That is until she died.

It was when you were four years old, you had gone to the market to buy things for dinner and on the way a criminal tried to steal them, your mother trying to protect you ended up with a bullet in the chest, you remember little, but you remember that he ran away while your mother died in front of you. After that you thought you were going to be sent to an orphanage, believe your surprise when your father came to take you home. The first time you saw him you were surprised by how much alike you were: same hair, same eyes, your face was really your mother's, but your skin was his, you were a perfect mix of your mother and your father, at the time you loved it but now... you are not so sure.

When you arrived at the mansion, you met your half-siblings. You were so excited. You always wanted a sibling, since you spent a lot of time alone. The possibility of having siblings made you very happy. The first was Dick: a bright smile and the sunshine of the family. Dick was friendly with you and at least bothered to ask a little about you, like your age or when your birthday was. But the next day, he completely forgot about you. Even though he lived in Bludhaven, he visited the mansion often. Of all your siblings, you felt the most excluded by him. While he said that family was the most important thing, he ignored you. Maybe it wasn't intentional, but what's the point of apologizing for not being there if you don't change anything?

The second was Tim: the Robin of the time. Tim was just... Tim, he was never that neglectful with you, but he didn't try to get closer either. He had no opinion for you. You would say that Tim was observant, quiet, and cold. He would help you if he saw that you needed help, the problem was that he was never there, so he never had time for you (like everyone else).

The third was Jason: in your opinion he was your favorite, Jason was the one in the house who gave you some attention. It wasn't always, but when he came to the mansion he really cared about asking about you.

"Why are you so skinny?" "Are you doing well in your studies?" "Is someone bothering you, brat?" and things like that. Jason wasn't that close but he was never distant either, that's why he was your favorite, but just like Tim he was never there when you needed him, since he couldn't stay at the mansion much (you believe that part of the blame is Bruce).

Then came the rest of your siblings, Barbara was always busy like Bruce and Dick, Cassandra and Stephanie weren't interested in you, and Duke never exchanged more than two or three words with you.

And then to top it all off came Damian: your younger brother. You thought that even though Damian was Al Grul's (trained to kill and all) maybe, just maybe, you two could have a good relationship.

Oh, how terribly wrong you were.

And you realized it the moment Damian almost cut your throat with his sword. That day Damian was reprimanded by Bruce while Dick was taking care of his neck, from what you understood Damian thought he needed to kill you to become Robin. 

You, a civilian, almost wanted to laugh at his presumption that you could be a vigilante when you couldn't even lift your backpack properly. After that day you didn't get close to Damian again, the fear of him doing something to you terrified you to the core. Damian realized it, you knew it by the looks he gave you, but whether it was pride or shame he never apologized to you.

Bruce never had time for you, wrapped up in work and as Batman his time was precious and he had to spend it on what was necessary, and you understood that.

You understood all of them.

But...it still hurt.

It hurt your soul a lot.

That's why you stopped trying to impress them, stopped enrolling in classes they liked just to get their attention, stopped bothering them to get some family time. You gave up, simple as that, the family didn't care, probably not even knowing about it.

There was Alfred, who probably spent the most time with you, acting like a grandfather. But Alfred is also Bruce's butler and the sidekick to Gotham's heroes, he couldn't spend all his time with you either (you accepted that, it was okay).

But sometimes there were rare moments that happened, moments when they cared, when you saw a little bit of love from them towards you.

Like when Jason gave you one of his sweatshirts for your birthday, one that you really liked (you still wear it to this day, it's still too big on you).Or when you didn't have a partner for your history project since no one was your friend, so Dick and Tim spent half the night helping you with it. Or when school bullies beat you up, you went back to the mansion (which was empty) with a black eye, just so Damian could see you. By some miracle, you convinced him not to tell Bruce, thinking that the matter had died there, you went back to your room only for Damian to knock on your door in the middle of the night and give you a pair of brass knuckles for you to use next time (you never used them, but knowing that he cared was comforting).

I think the most important of these moments was when Bruce showed up at your elementary school graduation. Thanks to your mother, you were more gifted than the others, advancing a few years in school, making you finish school before your age. Imagine: a pre-teen in the middle of almost adults with other adults looking at you (it's desperate) but you saw him, Bruce Wayne together with Alfred looking at you for the first time. He didn't stay until the end, but he was still there, he was there for you.

That's why you hated them.

How dare they? Play with your heart like that, giving you hope that maybe you could be a normal family, a happy family. You hated that, you hated having hope, you hated that they cared and then left you aside.

And what you hate the most is that every time you fall for their talk.

That's why you're taking some time for yourself, far away from them at your aunt's house. In two weeks it will be your fourteenth birthday and you decided this time to spend it with your aunt, to try to forget about your life in Gotham with your family (besides, it had been years since you saw her, it was time to get over the longing).

You told her well in advance, already planning it since the beginning of the month, so now at the train station you didn't feel any worries as you got on the bus.

You didn't tell your family, they wouldn't even care, you just told Alfred so that the poor man wouldn't have a heart attack if he didn't see you in the room.

Maybe if you had told them, this wouldn't have happened.

Dick loves his family.

No matter how many problems they have, he will always love them, family is everything to him.

So why these days has he felt like he's forgetting something?

Was it training with Damian? No, that was for tomorrow, maybe patrol with Bruce? That was impossible to forget, could there have been something with Tim? He doesn't remember his brother asking him for something, maybe Cass? She said a friend was going to have his birthday-

birthday.

(Name's) birthday.

The realization hit him like a train, that was it! His birthday, he had completely forgotten about it, when will it be? If he remembers, will it be in two weeks? You're going to be-

How old are you again?

No, that's absurd, he knows how old you are, he would be stupid not to. You must be twelve? No! Thirteen? But he doesn't remember your thirteenth birthday.

In fact, he doesn't remember any of your birthdays.

Okay, maybe he doesn't remember now, but he was definitely there for your birthday, he's your big brother! Why wouldn't he be?

Okay, he decided that as soon as he finished patrolling with the rest of the family he would talk to everyone about it.

As he jumped between the rooftops his phone vibrated loudly, but he didn't bother to look at it, he would check it later.

Hurry up Dick, before it's too late.

Tim was monitoring the batcave today, helping with location and crimes remotely. Today would be a normal patrol, too calm. Tim hated these patrols, too calm and preparing for the storm.

This time a hurricane would come and no one would be prepared.

The first to arrive was Jason, who came just to help with the investigation of a particular case. He leaned on the table next to Tim and watched the cameras and sensors on the television he controlled. The second was Bruce and Damian. Bruce went to talk to Alfred and Damian went to the table in the center where Tim's phone was. Tim, listening to Dick's message, who was near the mansion, almost didn't hear the youngest Wayne talking.

"Someone's calling you." Tim looked at Damian, who turned on his phone. Without worrying, he went back to the computer. "I can answer later." Damian apparently wasn't satisfied and turned on the phone only to see that the flames were his, his name engraved on the screen. "It's our sister's." "Cass's?"

"(Name's)" Now that caught Jason's attention. He looked at the youngest Wayne. For some reason, a bad feeling took over him, the same feeling that something bad was going to happen. "Oh, that's it. I'm kind of busy here. Can you see what she wants for me?"

Grimacing, Damian would have put the phone down, but something inside him told him to check, to check, so he picked up the phone and unlocked it to find over twenty missed calls from him “oh my”

“What’s wrong?” Bruce approached the boys, having vaguely heard the conversation. “There are over twenty calls and at least fifteen messages” now that really caught everyone’s attention.

“What?” Jason answered for everyone, breaking the silence that settled in the room, but Damian didn’t bother to answer, instead going to the messages, he was going to go through them when a word caught his attention.

Help 

Just with that the bad feeling inside Damian grew, his behavior changing and showing the others that the matter was serious “Oh shit."

“What’s going on” Dick finally arrived, only to find the tense atmosphere in the room, as he walked Damian went through the messages finding words like “help” “help” “invaded” and “bus”

“Damian what happened” he opened the voicemail, seeing many of them only in the last hour, he put it on maximum volume for him and the others to hear.

"T-Tim please pick up" your voice came out shaky, low almost in a whisper and desolate, full of fear "I-I... I tried calling Dick a-and even Bruce" the sobs of your voice were restricted by your mouth, sighing heavily a bang was heard on the other end startling you "I-I need help... p-please" and so the voicemail ended

“The mansion was invaded?!” Jason didn’t ask anyone in particular, but Tim went to see the footage of the mansion for the last few hours anyway. “No, no one came into the house.”

“Where is she?” Dick was quick to pick up the phone, just like Damian, he came across at least twenty voicemails for him. To get attention, Alfred coughed lightly and automatically everyone’s heads turned in his direction. “Master (Name) went out to spend her birthday with her aunt who lives in New York.”

And that’s how chaos exploded.

The next minute, everyone’s voices echoed through the cave. “What?!” “What do you mean?!” “When did she tell you that!?” Bruce replied as he walked towards Tim’s computer. “She didn’t tell you anything, Alfred, why didn’t you tell me?”

Alfred looked at his master, almost exploding at such stupidity, he knew Bruce didn't have time for you but he also made it clear that he didn't care about you, it was no surprise that you hadn't even warned him before, but respecting you (and master Bruce) he answered. "Master (Name) thought it wasn't necessary, he told me only if you gentlemen asked for her." Tim went back to the computer, now not scanning the streets of Gotham, but looking for you, Dick scrolled through the voicemail and clicked on the most recent one, made 15 minutes ago, his voice once again filled the air making everyone hear you.

This time the line started in silence, only your agitated breathing being heard, it is possible to hear a whisper much quieter than before on the line "Dick please, I-I... I beg p-please, please, p-please, p-please, please-" you were silenced by the noise of something near you, your breathing was weak, footsteps echoed wherever you were, you approached the phone and whispered into the cell phone "save me" when you finished speaking voices approached and then a scream came from you, your phone fell somewhere far from you but even so it was possible to hear your screams and your fight for the cell phone until the line finally ended

“Holy shit…” tension built up in the room, the family was completely stunned by the line, Jason was the first to go looking for him, Dick tried to stop him but he went looking for him too, Damian and Bruce left soon after and Tim went back to his computer at full speed.

They need to find you, Now!

But it was too late

“Tim tell me you found her” Jason shouted on the line as he moved with Dick, the two of them as well as the rest were moving at each of the bus stops to look for their route, the result was nothing.

Tim huffed on the line, irritated with his brother. “If you stopped asking me every two minutes maybe I would find her”

“Your-”

“Enough fighting! That’s not the focus right now” Dick said to Jason and Tim, although his harsh tone gave him away showing how exasperated he was. “Our focus is to find (Name)” Jason looked ahead accepting his brother, they had to find her, he needed to.

Jason wouldn’t forgive himself if his sister died.

“I found her!” Tim shouted excitedly, the spark of hope on his face until he saw the bus where he was “oh no” his heart started beating faster, fear started to settle in his body, but he remained paralyzed without being able to move. 

“Tim? Tim, what happened? Tim saw on the computer the image of his bus fallen to the ground, with fire gathering around it. The red robin could only move when he heard Bruce's voice. With his fingers shaking, Tim sent the image of the accident to each person's cell phone.

Bruce could feel his heart beating out of his chest, the sight of the bus lying on the ground, burned and destroyed was enough to make his heart stop, Damian was in no different situation, all he could think about was your face, scared and afraid of him.

He wanted to see you.

Everyone wanted to see you, but it was too late.

The hurricane passed and destroyed everything

“This morning, news shook all of Gotham, a bus destined for New York was intentionally unloaded in the middle of the road. In total, of the twenty-two passengers, five were injured and seven were kidnapped, among those kidnapped was the second youngest daughter of the great businessman Bruce Wayne, (Name) Wayne, the police are investigating the case-” the television was turned off by Jason, who threw the remote control hard on the couch, now with all the brothers gathered (Barbara, Cass, Stephanie and Duke there too) they were waiting for news from Bruce, who went to a press conference to speak at home with Alfred. Dick, trying to calm his brother, approached him and put his hand on his shoulder “Jason, we're going to find her-”

“Are we going to find her? She might be dead now!” Jason said without thinking, but the mood in the room dropped even more than it already was. Both the guilt and the despair of losing you were what terrified not only Jason, but everyone in that room.

“She’s not dead.” Damian was the one who calmed the situation, approaching the two of them. “You saw it yourself, she was taken, but she’s alive.”

“And who can guarantee that she’s not dead, huh, demon?” The youngest Wayne narrowed his eyes. Jason was right too. Who can guarantee that she’s not already dead? Who can guarantee that she’s not already six feet under, buried?

“(Name) isn’t dead.” Bruce and Alfred entered the mansion. Wayne’s suit was all wrinkled, but he didn’t care. Maybe it was because he had more important things to worry about. “She isn’t dead, and we’re going to find her.”

“Even if it’s just her corpse.”

Oh, okay that was a lot of work to do, enjoy.

@bunbunboysworld - @h-ib - @sheep-from-rad - @tatsuri-zomushiki - @the-holy-pigeon - @geminis93

Tchau.

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Aww I'm so happy to hear that, friend!! 🥰���

It's not a problem Dean, (the gun is obviously BUT) she is beautiful and you will love her and I will cry at your wedding.

Ehehe it's funny you mention their wedding...

Dean no. No feeling bad for saving your girl and for killing the "sack of shit in human clothes."

Ugh right? Trust, he doesn't regret killing that bastard loll.

Also I didn't notice the Colonel Sanderson thing before and now all I can think about is KFC lol.😂 Which is not to take away from how good this fic is or how well it's written. It's just me lol.

Actually THANK YOU for noticing that because Colonel Sanders was an intentional reference! lmao I saw some meme that called Asmodeus "Bullshit Colonel Sanders" and it made me cackle, so I included that a little bit here. 😂😂

Oh goodness she is already so protective of him and oh my word the wink had me melting lol.

See! It's not taking that long at all for her to start softening up towards him loll. At the very least, she doesn't want to see him killed for her after killing for her.

I also don't think that I mentioned this before, but I really like how you wove in the other characters in the show. Seeing Benny and Cas show up just made me so happy.

Aww thank you!! 🥰🥰 When it comes to AUs, I try my best to fit in canon characters where they make the most sense to me, and try to make them feel "as themselves" as possible.

Oh my word seeing that fight in my head, um... YES PLEASE. And the loyalty?! The love for their friend?! The "Goodbye brother."? It's so good.

Imagining Dean in uniform, even if he's fighting his friends, just does things to me too loll.

Ultimately, Benny and Cas are good men even in this world, and they didn't want to have to bring in him or Mila to the Colonel either. 💜

She's squishing his face! That is so cute, oh my stars. Plus I am cackling at how long it took him to be able to say her name.

Ahaha this was my favorite part to write for this chapter! Dean struggled, bless his heart. 🤣🤣🤣

I absolutely love this! I really love it when writers pick the names of their characters based on the meaning behind it. And the fact that you gave the meaning of her name a backstory of her mom having a dream and the butterfly meaning that Mila "would have a free mind" is just so perfect for her. Because she is stubborn and she does have "a free mind" by being rebellious and strong, by being a strong female character who does not conform to the whims of what other people deem to be appropriate for her. Also it was funny that Dean thought she was like a "lioness."

Aww thank you!! I'm usually pretty conscious of names and the meanings behind them, but especially in this story I got deep into the research of the Lakota people, and I found that names are very important to their culture, now and historically.

When I was looking for a name for her, Kimmímila stood out as being beautiful (with a nice nickname), but perhaps on surface level didn't reflect her true personality. So that's why I worked in that backstory with her mother's dream, vs. who she wanted her daughter to be, and who Mila considers herself to be. And bonus, what Dean observes of her! lol

So I absolutely love all of your observations here, because that's exactly what I intended for her!

This is a really wonderful line, that the war "never really ends." It really fits this story and honestly it really fits the entire early history of the United States when it was acquiring territory and embracing the "manifest destiny" ideals.

Aww thank you so much!! That's what I thought as well, not just for this story, but for the greater context of U.S. history during this time and the push to industrialize the entire country.

Okay, the whole part where she is explaining things about her life and her culture was so sweet. Them opening up with one another is just so soft and a little fluffy and I'm so glad that they got to have those gentle moments with one another. Not to mention this bit where Dean admits how much he likes listening to her, is just so good lol. And I thought it was really on brand for him to be a little upset that she doesn't completely trust him yet, even though that he killed one of his men. But he's got to learn to be patient... and then propose. LOL.

That was so fun for me too! The "getting to know you" aspect. I thought that opening up to one another was needed here, and it gave an opportunity for more historical tidbits!

Ahaha yep, she's a hard nut to crack, but Dean need only be patient. He's won a lot more brownie points with her than he realizes. 😏 "And then propose" -- I'm weeeak!! 🤣

Don't be afraid to admit it Mila, we all know how good he is to look at. And why shouldn't you look at your future husband? 💍

Ha!! Ikr?? Also, you're getting dangerously warm to what's coming in Part 3. ❤️‍🔥

Oh my sweet goodness, the TENSION!! This is so good my friend and I am so excited for what the future of this series holds and am praying that it doesn't end in death!😬💗

The romantic tension is real!! lmaoo

Thank you so, so much, friend!! Part 3 is my favorite part, I think, and I hope you'll be happy with the outcome, even though we've got a fair bit of action and angst ahead...

The Honorable Choice - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: “Getting to know you, getting to know all about you…” ⬅️ If you’ve seen The King & I, then you’ll probably be singing that line in your head like I do.

Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 3.1K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, protective Dean, historical tidbits, fluff

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!

Part 2: Death & Sacrifice

Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and the hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.

“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.

The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.

Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.

Dean has a problem.

Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock… 

He just can’t do it.

His finger eases off the trigger of his gun, and he lowers it to the ground beside him.

“I told you,” he says. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Her head tilts as she stares at his gun, then at him. She relaxes somewhat, and she backs off of him, sliding from his lap down to the grass beside him. Her closed fist with the knife comes to rest at her side. She gives him a look of wary bewilderment.

“You are a strange man,” she says.

Dean has to laugh a little, smiling at her afterward.

“I guess so,” he replies.

Her brows furrow. “You killed one of your own…for me?”

He nods, and his smile falls with a weary sigh. The hard part about that is he doesn’t feel much guilt about what he’s done. At the same time, he does, and the conflict churns in his stomach. He knew what kind of man Roman was. He was the kind of soldier that could’ve filled Colonel Sanderson’s shoes one day. A fellow soldier under Dean’s command...

And a sack of shit in human clothes.

Dean leans back on his hands in the grass and slides his legs out long. His stare falls to the earth between his boots. The ground is soft underneath him. Maybe it rained this morning. 

“Yeah, that’s gonna make it tough when I go back,” he says. “At best, that’s a court martial. At worst…”

The Lakota woman frowns, her dark brows nearly meeting in the middle as she considers him. He wonders what she sees when she looks at him.

“Tell you what,” Dean said. “Give yourself and your horse a rest tonight. I’ll go back and tell them I lost you in the canyon.”

Her eyes widen further in surprise. He can’t blame her for it. He’s surprising himself every time he opens his mouth.

“Will they kill you?” she asks.

Dean shrugs. “Nah, I’ll be fine.”

She levels him with a firmer look, one that demands the truth.

His nonchalance wanes, and he sighs.

“They might,” he says.

She shakes her head. She seems to deliberate over something, but eventually she comes to a decision. Just when she opens her mouth to speak, a gunshot rings out and hits the ground not far from their feet. A warning.

The sound of hooves thundering on the earth reach them before they look up. Two horses gallop towards them in the distance, their riders wearing blue uniforms.

They both tense up, but Dean is the first one to move. He grabs her arm and helps her stand along with him. They scramble back and lead the horses by their reins further into the trees. They find a denser patch and a raised hill to crouch down and hide behind.

The mustang is too tired to go very far, but Baby is already making anxious sounds, protective of her rider.

“Shhh,” Dean whispers, and runs a soothing hand over her side. He leads her to lay down with her legs tucked underneath her.

The Lakota manages to do the same with the mustang after whispering to him softly in her language. There’s a trust between them, Dean realizes. They have a connection that seems to mirror his own with his horse. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before.

“Captain!” Benny calls out.

Dean grimaces, but he stays quiet. He turns to the woman and holds a finger over his lips. She stares back at him in apprehension. He begins to creep slowly around the hill, but she grabs onto his wrist. For a second, she looks just as surprised as him by the reflexive action. Then, she shakes her head at him.

Don’t go out there, her eyes say.

Dean smiles, and he gives her a reassuring wink. He gently removes her hand and gestures at her to stay where she is. He army crawls up the side of the hill. It gives him a vantage point to watch his men, who approach just a few feet down below. 

“Captain Winchester!” Cas calls next.

“We don’t want to have to come and get you, Dean. Come on,” Benny says. He does sound reluctant, for his part. His voice grows more somber when he says, “Colonel’s given us orders to bring you and the girl back…dead or alive.”

Dean knows the position he’s put his own men in. He doesn’t blame them for following the Colonel’s orders. He just hopes they can forgive him for what he’s about to do.

He leaps off the edge of the hill with a yell and brings Benny with him to the ground. He sweeps Cas’s legs out from underneath him, then tosses a punch that lands on the corner of Benny’s chin. He kicks Benny’s gun away, and wrestles Cas until his pistol falls from his hand. The three men scrap and trade blows, until Dean is the only one left standing. His men are groaning on the dusty ground, slowly picking themselves up.

Dean’s heaving for breath as well as he leans back against the side of the hill. Despite that momentary victory, he knows what they all know: that this fight isn’t going to end until either they’re dead, or he’s dead.

“Where’s the girl, Dean?” Benny says. He implores him to see sense. “We take her back with us, we can smooth all this over with the Colonel. All of it, even Roman.” 

Dean lets out a deep breath, but he shakes his head.

“Can’t do that, Benny,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a question circling in his friend’s eyes, but after a beat, Benny seems to know the answer to it. He picks up his gun from the ground. Just like Dean once did, the Lieutenant now has a choice to make.

He shares a heavy look with Cas. The two of them nod, before they focus back on Dean.

Benny’s hand falls, and he stows his gun.

“You died today,” Benny says. “We found your body somewhere in the canyon. Your horse too.”

Dean nods, with something of a smile. He supposes faking his death is the only option now. He rips the badge off his uniform jacket and tosses it to Benny.

“There’s your proof,” he says.

Dean shares a grim nod of respect with Cas while Benny examines the torn patch denoting a captain’s rank.

“Take care of each other,” Dean says.

Benny’s head raises, and he meets Dean with a somber gaze.

“Goodbye, brother.”

Dean doesn’t return to her until the men are out of sight through the trees. She’s still hiding along with the resting horses, waiting for him. That alone surprises him. It would bring a small smile to his face, if the weight of that goodbye didn’t feel so heavy on his shoulders.

He reaches out a hand for her. It takes her a moment to consider it, but she accepts his offer.

He helps her to her feet, after which, she quickly pulls her hand back. She’s wary of his touch, her face guarded when she looks up at him. Dean supposes he can’t blame her, even if it does strike a nerve. After what he just did for her…

His face becomes stoic, and he turns away to grab his hat from the dusty ground. “We should probably head out.”

She nods and calls to her horse to encourage him to his feet. Despite himself, Dean can't help but be curious. How did this girl manage to tame that wild beast?

“Does he have a name?” he asks.

“Mato,” she replies.

“Mato,” Dean echoes. “Does that mean something? You know, in your language.”

She eyes him wryly, brushing her hand over Mato’s hide.

“It means angry, like a bear,” she says.

Dean snorts. “Yeah, good name.”

He remembers his bruised side (and ego) from when the mustang threw him off his back.

Dean watches her with another realization as she gracefully mounts the horse. Baby has gotten up to her feet as well, already nudging the back of his arm with her snout. He rubs her nose in affection.

Then he turns to climb up onto her back, settling his feet into the stirrups and loosely grabbing the reins. He follows his companion’s lead farther into the forest, but he guides his horse to fall into step beside hers.

“Will you tell me your name now?” he asks. “Think we’ve been through enough together at this point, don’t you think?”

She considers it with a tilt of her head. She looks over at him with a small smile.

“Kimmímila,” she says. The syllables roll off her tongue effortlessly.

Dean raises his brows. “Kim…Kimmeela.”

She shakes her head at him, her lips pursing.

“Kimmímila.”

Lord help him, but he tries his best. His brows furrow.

“Kim…mila,” he attempts. She guides Mato closer and grabs Dean by his cheeks with one hand.

“Kimmí.”

“Kimmí,” he repeats with his cheeks squished. His face is starting to warm up, and not altogether in embarrassment.

“Mila,” she says with a nod.

“Mila,” Dean says. “Kimmímila.”

He’s treated to her smile, warm and true. She releases him, her gaze flitting over his face. Then she keeps riding. Dean grins to himself.

“Think I’m gonna call you Mila,” he says. Make it easier on myself.

She even laughs, a honeyed sound. “Yes, my father does too.”

“What does it mean? Your name.”

“In your language?” she says, in a tone that teases him back. She becomes thoughtful as she searches for the word. “It means…butterfly.”

“Really?” Dean remarks. She doesn’t strike him as a butterfly.

More like a lioness, he thinks, only somewhat holding back his grin.

She gives him some side-eye, despite her amusement.

“You think it does not suit me,” she observes.

“Well, I didn't say that—”

“I don’t think so either,” she admits. “There are many things that don’t suit me.”

Dean chuckles. He can imagine that.

“But my mother had a dream before I was born,” Mila says. “She saw beautiful wings, and said I would have a free mind. When I grew, and wanted to spend my days with horses more than cooking and sewing things, she didn’t call me free. She called me stubborn.” Her face begins to fall. “Maybe too stubborn.”

Dean offers her a rueful, sympathetic look. “Yeah, I get it. My brother always said I was damn hardheaded,” he says. “…Maybe we’ve got more in common than we thought, huh?”

Mila’s smile returns, however slightly.

“You have a brother?” she asks.

“Oh, yeah. He’s a lawyer, so he’s more needed back home,” Dean replies.

Damn. He really does miss his bookish little brother.

He explains to her about his family, his brother and mother who still live in Lawrence, and how he joined the army, in part to honor his father.

“What happened to him?” she asks.

“He died…in some cornfield near Sharpsburg, Maryland, fighting the Confederacy,” he replies, heaving a breath.

"Con...federacy?" she questions.

"The South," Dean explains. "See, most of our southern states thought they should be their own country, letting slaves plow their fields and mind their kids. I may have lived on a farm, but my father always paid his workers. He fought for the Union."

"So you fought among yourselves, over land that did not belong to you," Mila points out.

Dean falls silent. After a little while, he concedes her point with an incline of his head.

"Fair enough," he says, glancing over at her. “I think my dad thought the fighting would end with the war, but, uh...it never really ends, does it?”

Her expression of curiosity fades, turning more solemn.

“No,” she agrees. “…I am sorry for your father.”

Dean's a little surprised to hear that from her, but he nods his thanks. They continue to talk as the sun begins to set in the west. When it dips behind the canyon, they stop to make camp for the night, and he helps her catch a rabbit to roast on the fire they build together.

That night over the meal, she slowly opens up to him. He learns that she’s an only child, though she has a sibling-like bond with her older cousin, Šóta. She spends most of her days planting or harvesting their crops, depending on the season, as well as sewing, painting, helping the elders of her tribe with tasks, and helping her mother and aunt cook.

When the rabbit is gone, she unbinds her long, thick hair and untangles it while she speaks. She explains that the Lakota are just one of many tribes. There are six other bands of Sioux who live in this region. Along with the Dakota and the Nakota, they are the “Seven Council Fires” who have made the Great Plains their home for generations.

She tells him about the way her tribe lives, caring for one another, giving the land back as much as they take, and letting it rest. The men hunt and protect the village from the outside, but the women protect the inside, their way of life.

Most of all, Mila tells him, she loves caring for the horses. She goes out and rides whenever she can duck out of her mother’s watchful eye.

Dean enjoys listening to her stories. He likes what he learns about her, but also, he just likes the sound of her voice, smooth and steady, almost calming. He thinks she might like the sound of his too, the way she’s smiled at him, laughed with him, glanced at him when she thinks he’s not looking.

She still picks a spot as far away from him as she can to sleep though. She keeps the fire pit in between them. He even catches sight of her knife, hidden in the hand she tucks underneath her cheek. Evidently, she doesn’t fully trust him just yet.

It annoys him at first, considering how many times he’s saved her already. How much he’s sacrificed just to get them this far…

Until he remembers how they met. He remembers the disdain and anger in her brown eyes, then the mistrust, and the fear hidden underneath. He thinks of every experience she’s likely had so far with the U.S. Military, and anyone else who looks like him.

Dean settles down on the ground and stares up at the innumerable stars in a raven sky. He’s exhausted, but his thoughts don’t let him rest for a while. 

At the very least, the way she looks at him now is softer than that first day.

In the morning, Mila watches the strange man wake.

He blinks and rubs his bleary eyes, yawning, groaning at the sun’s brightness like a child. She hides her smile by bowing her head over the apple she’s cutting with her knife. The orchards span wide across the forest, and soon he’ll find two yellow-red apples beside his head.

His brows raise at them, then he looks up at Mila sitting with her legs crossed behind the small fire pit. The wood there is just ash and blackened remains now, but it still carries the smell of burning.

“Morning,” he greets.

She nods back at him and pretends not to watch when he sits up with a groan, stretching and bending his arms high behind his head. He removed his uniform jacket to sleep. It allows her to see every dip of male muscle that his plain white shirt clings to, even in the long sleeves.

Her gaze furtively runs over the broad shoulders, the tapered waist, then back up to his half-bearded face, defined by a strong jaw and dark brows. The sun catches on his brown hair and teases the ends of it golden.

She would never admit it, but he’s not unpleasant to look at. 

Last night, she declined his offer to travel with her until she reaches her tribe safely, but he was insistent. Again, strange.

So here she is, with him. Here they are. 

Dean turns to see the horses grazing nearby. Mato no longer has the saddle and bridle his men put on him. He looks rested and at ease. He even whinnies at Baby, tossing his head a little. She answers him and flicks her tail. They continue eating together.

Dean smiles, then grabs an apple. He raises it to her in thanks before he takes a large bite. Its juices run down the corner of his mouth, and he wipes at it with the back of his hand. Mila can’t help but be drawn to the sight.

She tears her eyes away when he looks over at her.

“We have a long way to go. Three days, if the weather is good,” she says, continuing to carve pieces of her apple to eat. “We will know we are close when we reach the river.”

Dean nods in understanding. With a grunt, he gets to his feet and takes another bite out of his breakfast. She doesn’t expect the way he approaches her with a hand outstretched. She looks up at it, then at his expectant face.

“Come on. Let’s hit the road then,” he says.

Mila considers his offer for another moment. He seems to be making this a habit. Amused, she wonders if this is just kindness, or if the women of his people aren’t allowed to stand without a man’s help.

She pockets her knife, swipes her braided hair over her shoulder, and slips her hand into his, allowing him to help her to her feet. When she gets there, he’s closer than he should be.

A breath gets trapped in her throat as she once again looks between his warm hand closed over her smaller one, and his face. In the small space between them, there is a different kind of tension than before. Mila can’t tell what the man is thinking when he looks at her like that, but she doesn’t like it.

And at the same time, she does.

She takes back her hand, and she goes to the horses. She firmly ignores how her heart gallops, even as she rubs at her chest like it’s an ache that can be soothed.

She doesn’t hear Dean’s unsteady breath, nor does she see the way his green eyes follow her.

AN: *rubs hands together* Well, here they are! It's all starting to come together. What did you think of Dean's decision?

Coming up next, we have the final part: some action, some fluff, and some potentially perilous situations for Mila and Dean...

Next Time:

“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”

Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.

“I will protect you,” she says.

Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.

“Mila…”

“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”

Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.

COMING 11/17! (New chapters every Sunday.)

Or read Part 3 on Patreon now!

Series Masterlist

Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List + Dean W. (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @this-is-me19

@emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @kaleldobrev @spnwoman

@thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28

@adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka

@chevroletdean @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24

@ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley

@sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @mimaria420

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @ajjustice

@ades106 @my-stories-vault @cevansbaby-dove @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof

@tmb510 @skyesthebomb @syrma-sensei @harleycao @king-of-milf-lovers

@pizzagirlxnsfwx @justsom3onesworld @beskarfilms @lunaticgurly @artemys-ackles

@malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean

@violetlilysunshine @traiitorjoe @tsofo26 @k-slla @jackles010378

@deanbrainrotwritings @urfav-tz @alwaystiredandconfused @torchbearerkyle @mrlonelycat

[drakewyne]

nancy got a massive star anise in that turkish coffee blend an iraqi man had brought her from a trip abroad — that’s fine, she doesn’t mind strong flavors and she likes the shape. ba’athist baghdad in the ‘70s would still be their meeting spot.

“would you believe christmas is one of my favorite holidays?”

she takes a sip. it tastes sharp ended like stars.

“actually the way i’ve been acting, i wouldn’t believe it either.”

and this is a godless season.

( cw: sad )

tim recompenses by making a gingerbread man walk over her hand. he has dark chocolate buttons and a royal icing smile. he looks a little stupid, but pleased. nancy squishes a cheek in her hand and wonders what the little cookie’s secret is.

“you have the opposite of seasonal affective disorder,” she comments while tim whistles the vince guaraldi trio, “you have seasonal disaffective disorder.”

“‘please eat me, it’s all i live for. it’s all i fucking live for.’” tim moves the cookie around.

she clicks her tongue: “at least he says it out loud.”

“i always actually felt like christmas kinda made up for the bleak 0 for 8 nature of chanukah,” tim answers, “so this part of the season’s like a reward in and of itself.”

nancy thinks and then snaps off the gingerbread man’s stupid head.

“sorry for shitting all over your pageantry then.”

“i’ve seen bigger shits.”

she separates the eyes and the smile between perfected teeth.

“it’s not your fault,” he mumbles, “everyone gets that this is kinda a bullshit time for you.”

“well,” she frowns, “i’m not really so sentimental.”

“annie.”

she swallows and turns her head to watch the plush snow falling outside. the cottony sound of the fat drops hitting the window fills her mouth with cold sponge cake. her brow pulls, as she’s tried to swallow that too.

“okay,” she begrudgingly admits, “so i’m a little sentimental.”

“and you’re taking this feeling out of place thing a little personally.”

“that’s the most personal feeling you could’ve described.”

“trust me,” tim pops both arms in his mouth, “i know.”

the gingerbread man’s down to a torso and legs, his chocolate buttoned suit delineated with icing.

nancy sips her espresso and lays both hands flat on the table, dark button eyes boring into the wood. when the sheer force of her gaze leaves no exit wounds, she softens up and feels embarrasingly weepy in the throat.

“i can’t really blame anyone,” she admits quietly, “it’s totally all my fault. that’s neutral, i think, it is what it is . . . ”

tim hands her the left leg. she thanks him and takes it in her slim hand.

“everything kinda slows down in winter anyway,” tim explains, “it’s just too quiet a season for you.”

“and for you?”

“are you kidding? i get free reign when it’s quiet like this- i go ice skating and everything.”

nancy huffs, humored. then she looks at him, and something in his eyes is sheer crystal truth. she angles her head.

“no way.”

“i actually do.”

“are you good?”

“i’m alright.”

“shut the hell up,” she shakes her head, “i hate when you do that. it means you’re actually dead good.”

“you know everyone was happy that you showed. don’t feel bad about psyching them out a little.”

there’s a star on top of the christmas tree. she thinks about the angel that used to top hers.

“if we had a pool for every time we weren’t sure if someone was showing,” tim leans back, “dick’d make the top spot every year.”

they got a fresh tree every year. and there’s a new family in that house. the angel topper?

“you can take your time. wouldn’t even matter if we split- you’d still get an invite for next year.”

she’s not totally sure where it went off to.

“hey, don’t cry-”

“i’m not,” she blinked, surprised by the accusation, “i’m not.”

then she touched beneath her eyes and realized she was.

she explained briefly that she got her dad a safe, soft balsa wood model plane and the truth was simply that he actually liked it, he was slightly excited, he loves planes. did she ever tell him that? no? oh, well, he loves planes and understands them in a way that feels bigger than what they are.

and the truth was simply that she loved him and understood him in a way that was bigger than his six feet and five inches.

both of them would prefer that the thing they love not hold them to it.

nancy and tim in his old room. she pushes the clutch ( removes her makeup ) and he pulls the choke ( unwinds her scarf from her neck ). she hates being weepy like this. she thinks it’s disgustingly indelicate and slightly rude of her considering the fanfare. she looks around at his walls and feels so much of him in the dark paint and the boyish bedspread. quintessential adolescent. blue and grey checkered and everything. he had a sony stereo right above it with headphones waiting for him to come back.

“what were you last listening to in here?” she asks.

tim presses the disc eject and scrutinizes the cd. “slowdive. souvlaki. banger album.”

“when was that?”

“don’t remember putting a cd in here recently,” he shrugs, “so i guess five years ago or so.”

she sits on the bedspread and the mattress catches her weight. from below, there’s a muffled degree of cheerful noise. his curtains are open, and the white flurries around outside.

“i don’t think i can get you out of here,” he wincingly admits, “storm’s getting too gnarly to drive in.”

“do you know where alfred would’ve taken my bags?”

“probably just by the coats.”

“can you bring them? i just want my sweater.”

he does. he watches her pull her clothes off and finds it slightly even more intimate to watch nancy put a sweater on.

“i turn into this big baby when i’m the littlest bit jetlagged,” she brushes it off, putting lotion on her peachy face after taking out her contacts, “i just get super ridiculous.”

“have you tried puking? i just puke.”

“i like the efficiency in that. get it all out.”

“i move fast.”

“i actually really like your room,” nancy looks up at the ceiling, “it’s cute you put stars up there.”

he lay beside her, squinting: “forgot i did that. anyway you’re wrong and it’s actually metal. these are the constellations you see from apokolips — where darkseid lives. it’s in this dimension that you need a boom tube to get to.”

“oh my god,” nancy sighs, shutting her eyes, “you had such a fucked up childhood.”

“my bad.”

she touches his hand and he turns his palm up to make it easier. she was just curious, just wondering, but did he ever hold hands in this room like this? no. too many people and too little respect for closed doors and too much urgency. he was making moves without a home field advantage. a panicky adolescent bravery.

“not to mention, my room wasn’t ever really suitable for visitors.”

“it still isn’t back at yours.”

“then i guess there is no stopping sister nancy after all. i’m glad they made that song real.”

she laughs lightly, low and slow and dizzy. then she apologizes quietly for being a pain about everything. then she asks him to tell everyone that she really appreciates the invitation, but she can’t hang. he will.

he says, “hey, before you go to sleep.”

tim has likely been eating his body weight in gingerbread all night, but she likes strong flavors and it feels sharp ended like stars. his hair crushed against her head and this was an unfamiliar, surprising custom that she blinked over. this closeness. this buoy knocking of skulls.

“nobody thinks there’s a way you’re supposed to feel about anything, but i’ll still leave out the part where you started crying.”

kissing would be easier. would at least give her something to do with her hands.

“the patience’s actually kinda annoying,” he admits, “give it a few hours over breakfast and you’ll be begging to get called out.”

yet as is historically true for her, the long way out is objectively the best way.

“you think it’s a little stupid, right?” she asks hesitantly.

tim doesn’t give her what she wants. he keeps his face the same.

“how you feel doesn’t have anything to do with what’s stupid or not.”

“i know better.”

“how you feel doesn’t have anything to do with knowing shit either.”

“tim,” she shuts her bird egg eyes, “do you remember what happened?”

“i remember what i think happened.”

“well, i remember everything. i remember it all super clearly.”

“ . . . i believe you.”

she opens her eyes.

[cosmic-walkers]

i love how the main message in the wolf hall trilogy is how power, no matter how humble the person is, will corrupt and will make them a mirror of the people they hated. thomas spends a lot of time speaking poorly about the boleyns, the howards, gardiner, henry, etc., but he starts to mirror their personalities. he becomes cutthroat, treacherous, cruel, yet thinks he's untouchable.

what i don't think the message is, is that a low born man shouldn't come into power. because arguably, he was the only one there who could do the job right.

it is just interesting to see how he's transformed and essentially doesn't even realize it. but he becomes a darker, colder person and he starts to mirror that.

[aberooski]

Okay so, if y'all know me you know I adore tmnt. It was my obsession before I ever watched even the original YGO much less GX. And now I'm watching tmnt 2012 for the first time, I'm about halfway through season 2 and honestly you guys are so lucky I'm not live blogging it because well.... I don't like it 💀

I will say I'm enjoying season 2 more than season 1 so far but still 💀

[shycoconutt]

“Plea-oh god-please Kento, I can’t, I have nothing left.”

Feeling Nanami breathe into the skin of your neck, he gives you a small hum of encouragement.

“Oh, darling, but I know you can give me more. Be a good girl fr’ me yeah?”

You find yourself in this situation often. Body worship is what some call it. You are at the complete mercy of him, and he treats your body as if it is an extension of his own.

Nanami Kento knows everything about you—what makes your toes curl, your legs shake, your pussy pulse—and he revels in it.

On nights like this, Nanami props himself up against the fabric headboard of your king-sized bed, your back flush against his chest. Your legs rest on the outside of his widely spread thighs. His arms settle on the small of your waist, elbows squishing into the plush there. Chin resting in the crook of your neck, he guides you through every movement, every caress of your soft flesh.

All while his cock is buried deep inside you and his large, strong hands worship your most sensitive parts.

“So beautiful. So good to me. All mine, all mine, all mine.”

His member is tucked so deeply inside you, tip resting right against your cervix, giving it a little taste of his salty pre. Nanami never lets himself release until the very end, needing to feel you cum around him at least five times before he’s satisfied. He says it’s his favorite feeling in the world.

“Shhhh, shhhh, last one baby. Give me just one more, then I’ll give you my cum, okay?”

You don’t know how he does it, and you feel too cock drunk to form any coherent thoughts determining why he’s such an expert when it comes to you. He knows the exact amount of pressure to apply when he pinches your nipples, exactly what pace to rub your clit, exactly where to bite, nip and kiss your skin. Most impressively, he knows exactly what to say when he wants you to let go.

“Mmm you’re so messy, darling. Look, you’ve gotten me and the bed all wet.”

While one hand kneads your breast, he brings the other down between your legs, using his fingers to gather up your nectar.

“Such a good pussy.”

After spreading your wetness around your folds, he brings his hand back up and out in front of your faces, rubbing and separating his fingers so you can both watch the strings of your release stick to him.

“Open.”

You immediately obey his command without a second thought, you always do.

Nanami brings two of his cum-soaked fingers to your mouth, and you invite them in with ease. You feel yourself pulse when your essence hits your tastebuds and you suck needily at his skin.

“Save some for me, darling.”

Gentling hooking his finger on the inside of your cheek, he brings your face to the side to meet his, his dark brown eyes boring into yours with hunger. You release his fingers slightly from your suction, and he brings them out in between both of your mouths. Together, you begin to suck at them, every so often wrapping your lips around them to give each other sloppy licks and kisses.

It’s so hot and erotic, and you are too entrapped in it all to notice your final orgasm creeping up on you. But Nanami notices, he always does.

“That’s a good girl. Where do you want my hands?”

Your head falls back onto his shoulder as you feel your core tighten. You are so close, that you’re surprised you can give him an answer.

“My pussy.”

Nanami quickly brings both of his hands down to your core. He lays two fingers on either side of your sensitive bundle of nerves, rolling it gently between them.

Everything immediately goes white as you let out a cry of intense pleasure. Giving yourself over to him completely, your body goes limp against his as waves of your orgasm crash over you.

“Yes, yes, amazing darling. You’re giving me such a good one.”

Feeling yourself rhythmically pulsing around him, Nanami starts to lose all prior restraint as he lets out a moan from deep within his chest. Hooking his arms under your thighs, he holds them up and to your chest. Bearing all of your weight effortlessly, he begins to simultaneously pound into you while moving you up and down on his cock.

“Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunts into your ear.

All the sudden movement is starting to make you feel dizzy, still dumb from your release. Feeling him pound over and over again all the way to your cervix, you begin to match his moans.

“Such a pretty slut for me. You love when I use you like this huh? Like my own personal fleshlight.”

He’s becoming more relentless with each thrust, signaling what’s coming next.

“Should I give you what you want, darling?”

Bringing your hand back behind you to play with the hair of his undercut, you whimper slightly.

“Mmm, yes, I’ve been so good. I deserve it, Nami, please.”

You can feel his smile against your neck, canines poking at your skin.

“Yes, yes you do.”

With one final thrust, Nanami clamps you down, pushing you as far as you can go onto his length. Hearing his head hit the headboard, he cries out as he begins to release rope after rope of his thick cum into you, coating your plush walls.

It takes you a couple seconds to come to, feeling absolutely full of him. Completely spent, Nanami gently brings your legs back down to rest on his own, then wraps his arms tightly around your shoulders.

It takes a little while longer for both of your breathing to come back to normal, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a state of pure bliss. You thank the universe every day for bringing him to you.

“I love you so much, darling. You have no idea. I’m completely and utterly obsessed with you,” he whispers in your ear.

Hiding your smile in his forearms, you feel a faint blush crawl up your cheeks.

“Let’s stay like this for a while, yeah?” you speak into his skin.

He happily hums to you, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“How about forever?”

a/n: to all my fellow nanami sluts out there, can I get a “hell yeah!”

mdni banner by @kithsune

[zoe-oneesama]

Since SL is ending, do u have a favorite outfit you wished you could have draw more of it? Can be any character.

You unlocked something in me cuz I went digging for these:

I drew this super cute coat-dress for Rose and then only got to show the back of it?! And I looooved this fall look on Alya so much I tried to use it again in "Puppeteer" but barely got use out of it there either. And I deliberately referenced my favorite Akane Tendo from Ranma 1/2 look with Mylene...and then only showed her tiny 😭😭

This blink-and-you'll-miss-it look for Alix was so layered and so what I think I'd put Alix in as her permanent outfit if I was designing her for the show. Same for this adorable oversized fit for Ondine, she needs an "out of the water" look. As for Chloe and Sabrina, I felt like these both really reflected them well so it's too bad I only got two pages out of them.

I actually DID get a lot of real-estate out of this Alya look, I just liked it so much I want to see it more. And this Nino doesn't blow my mind but I drew him so cute in my sketchbook quick sketch that I want to bring the look back just to recapture the magic. And this long skirt on Nadja made her look kinda hot, I waited to late to start messing with the adults.

I just really liked the few times I got to draw Juleka in this look, I wonder if it's actually the hair that I liked most. And poor Marc, I drew them in this "is it a shirt? is it a dress?" look but you never see below their waist! And I killed it with these three, you can tell that I just really like the outfits I made for Alya, Kagami doesn't get to wear casual clothes enough, and Nino isn't super fashionable, but when I nail it for him I NAIL it!

I like making the rich kids casual. (Also I fully admit that there's just something about showing off guys collarbones for me, idk what it is). I especially like this Chloe look because it's inspired by fellow creator @mikoriin's artwork of her! Ivan is hard to get excited about because I feel like part of his visual design is that he's NOT fashionable (I mean he's wearing two different shades of black, the nightmare) so when I can trick him into looking good, I like it 💖And I like most of the looks I give Lila, wanting to see her outfit more is just me wanting to write her more.

Last but not least, the Hero fits from the kids. If you add in Alya dressed as Fox Trot, the Cesaires cover the Main 4 of SL (pre Ladybug) lol. It's a shame that they couldn't show off their hero worship more.

[arachine]

something about non-traditional family dynamics with gojo just speaks to me…

includes :: co-parent!gojo, rich boy!gojo, mentions of pregnancy + leaky nips hehe

note :: this is just pure brainrot, started thinking about him in class today and i needed to get this out of my brain!

link to part two + link to part three

i’d like to think that after he knocks you up in college, the two of you take it upon yourselves to get married because, “‘it’s the right thing to do.’” and so, for a few years, you do the whole marriage thing—the family thing.

no longer were you the twenty-something-year-old who partied hard every weekend, and studied until the break of dawn every school night.

no, now you were the twenty-something-year-old who fixed bottles at odd hours in the night, whose nipples leaked through all her favorite tops, who had a husband that paid a mortgage and kissed her goodbye before he went off to work for the company passed down to him.

and after some time, things finally start to fall into place—your little family.

the baby gets bigger. you go through the terrible twos, of course, and the teenage-threes, but once she hits five, it’s suddenly pie in the sky—and god, it feels like you can finally start to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

so, you and gojo have one more. one more girl that’s precious, and smart, and quick-tongued, and every bit of her dad as she is you.

things are touch and go for awhile, but for the most part it’s...easy, smooth. that is, until married life starts to feel like a task, and your husband starts to feel like your roommate instead of your companion.

conversations becomes brief, the bed becomes colder, morning kisses are exchanged for nods of acknowledgement, and you can’t even remember the last time either of you desired each other…

one day though, the two of you come to a mutual decision to separate. you spend the night talking, and talking, and talking. you talk about things. memories—before and after. you even talk about your mis-comings, and if things could’ve gone differently had either of you did ‘this, this, and that’.

when you tell the girls, you’re half expecting them to be upset, but all they can think about is how, “‘they’ll get twice the amount of gifts during holidays’” — at least, according to your oldest who heard that from a kid in her class with separated parents.

a few years pass after your separation and now the both of you have come to a place where you can just be...friends. it was weird, at first—dropping your kids off to their 'other home'. walking them up to the grandiose sky-rise apartment building that's always bustling with people who've got places to be, and working class people to probably torture—but that's neither here, nor there.

gojo's waiting in the lobby. he's leaned up against the side of the elevator, dressed down in all black athleisure, and he's sporting that damn cheesy grin that you find yourself missing lately.

"hey girls," he greets, lowering down to his haunches and opening his arms for hugs, "oof—big hugs, almost knocked me over! missed me that much, huh?"

while the three of them get their hugs out of the way, you stand there idly watching, rocking back and forth on the balls of your heels.

"hey," he finally acknowledges you, "how was the drive? they got everything they need?"

"it was fine, and yep! they insisted on packing their own bags like big girls but i checked them," you say, before whispering, "and then repacked them."

he laughs at that, and then grabs their suitcases.

"but yeah, i should get going before traffic hits. if you need anything, let me know, and if you need anything," you drop down to your knees, "mommy's only a call away, okay?"

the two of them nod, "okay, mommy!"

"good...now come on, hugs and kisses!" you pull them in, getting enough kisses for two-weeks time. eventually, you pull away—albit, reluctantly, and wave your goodbyes.

the three of them watch you walk away, and when you're finally out of ear-shot, gojo utters a 'miss that'.

"miss what, daddy?"

"uh-huh," he clears his throat, "daddy didn't say anything..."

"liar, you miss mommy. don't you?" the youngest grins, all cheeky and knowing. gojo rolls his eyes—not out of annoyance, but because of how much they reminded him of himself. much like he, nothing ever got past those two...and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. right now, though? it's gonna be a good thing because he needs to know if-

"does mommy have a new boyfriend?"

"why?" the oldest answers, squinting her eyes in suspicion.

"jeez kid, just answer the question."

she ponders for a second, then extends her hand out, opening and closing it in a fast manner. gojo pouts, then takes out his wallet to put a five dollar bill on it.

she doesn't budge.

"oh, c'mon! i'm your father!" he pouts, but acquiesces and pulls out another five, "fine, you little brat."

with a smile on her face, she stuffs the bills in her front pocket and nods her head.

"wha-really?" he gasps, "is he better looking than me? how old is he? is he younger than daddy? is he richer than daddy? what's he do for work?"

ignoring his questions, she only extends her hand out again.

"i'm not giving you any more money, so we can settle this with some ice cream or nothing."

she ponders for a second time before nodding. "ice cream works for me."

"you little...c'mon get on the elevator."

20 floors in and the questions never stop coming.

[wonryllis]

my world in my arms ⋅ CUDDLING WITH ENHYPEN!

╰ 𝖠𝖫𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖭𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖵𝖤𝖫𝖸, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.

THE ATELIER. enhypen in their comfort place, word count 890 requested by anon, CONTAINS— fluff, suggestive in jake's part, fem!reader. unedited. ( ARCHIVE? ) pls reblog!!

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

he loves the feel of you in his arms so much, he's quite literally glued to you whenever possible. arms always wrapped around you. you feel warm and you feel home to heeseung. it's like all his worries disappear when he holds you, sometimes when he's too stressed out of his mind, his first instinct is to find you.

to him just being able to have you in his arms is the best thing ever. he doesn't give a fuck about how, he just has to hold you, body against body that's it. sometimes he'll nuzzle into you and fall asleep in minutes, sometimes he'll sing you soft songs, and sometimes he'd straight up leave kisses after kisses all over your exposed skin and lips.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

your wish is my command guy number one. his precious baby is his safe haven and he loves just going in for a cuddle anytime you ask or anytime it looks like you want it. he knows you more than you know yourself, always giving you the princess treatment without you having to utter a single word.

he alternates between big and small spoon, equally loving having your hands wrapped around him from the back to having your face nuzzled into his chest. his favorite though would be when he's gaming on the couch and you come over all drowsy and cute and climb into his lap, looping your arms around his waist or neck and falling right back to sleep there.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

he is open to cuddling all the damn time, on his off days he makes sure to spend at least half the day snuggling with you either on the bed or anywhere in the house. and even on his busiest days he definitely squeezes in the time to have a cuddle session where you both talk about anything and everything.

most of time jake likes to cuddle face to face, he wants to be able to see you, see all the little expressions you do when you speak of different things. look into your eyes, trace your lips, carress your cheeks. and on some days the hands on your waist run around places not so innocent, trying to sneak in a lazy makeout session and maybe even further.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

his day is not complete without a cuddle with you. it's an essential part of his routine and he absolutely needs it everyday. when he's away from you for any reason, he facetimes you at least twice a day. sometimes even just facetiming to fall asleep with you on call, so tired but wanting to feel you near him,

usually sunghoon likes to be the big spoon, to engulf you in his arms as if he's protecting you from monsters under the bed. oftentimes, he would have one arm under your head as a pillow and the other over you as he holds his phone to show you pictures from his trips or daily life. telling about the stories behind the clicks and telling you how much he missed you there.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢

two words: free use. y'all jump on each other for cuddles whenever you feel like it even if it's just for a few minutes. sunoo just loves to come home to cuddle and take naps with you. he loves being your personal pillow, rubbing your back and playing with your hair. the apple of his eyes curled up with him. bestest thing.

when he's had a long day, he likes to cuddle facing you telling you about his day and then later change into the small spoon to fall asleep and having a wishful belief that you'll dream of each other. especially on rainy days, he loves putting on your favorite show and cuddling on the couch oftentimes ending up napping halfway through.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

he's ready to cuddle whenever you want. he may not ask for cuddles a lot but he's down for it whenever you wish for it. your wish is my command guy number two. always the happiest when he has you wrapped in his arms, so many smiles and giggles from him like he's in literal heaven, a perfect paradise.

jungwon prefers to be able to see you too, but honestly this guy would do whatever you want. you wanna be the small spoon? he loves it. you wanna be the big spoon? he loves it. you wanna face him? he loves it. any chance he gets he's beyond happy. you see jungwon finds happiness in the little things in life, so just being able to hold you is more than enough, his little world.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

cuddles with him are spontaneous and crazy and fun and soft and fuzzy and literally everything in between. you never know which type you're going for and sometimes it changes from sentimental deep talks to tickle fights and pillows slapping against each other and playful wrestling matches all over the bed.

riki loves loves loves having you stuck against his side one arm going from under your waist to over you holding his phone close to play games together in it in multiplayer mode. letting you win on purpose because everytime you do, you're leaving kisses all over his face in excitement, and sometimes placing bets and winning only to ask for kisses again.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz

[tetzoro]

☽◯☾ - SMOKIN' ACES

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : The ASL brothers know how to throw a good party and tonight was no different.

꒰ content ꒱ : MDNI. portgas d. ace x f!reader ; dubcon as they are high, descriptive weed use, shotgunning, surprise voyeur alert (someone might be listening...), unprotected sex, dry humping, use of pet names (baby, good girl), impact play if you squint — WC : 3.4k

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Full Moon ! ꒱ — Kinktober Masterlist

The basement was a cozy little spot that only the members of the house and certain special guests could be privy to. During the notorious parties, it was a safe haven, a place of refuge- Somewhere to get some air, get away from the noise, and regroup with the people who meant most to you.

It was full of little touches from over the years. A series of disjointed chairs and faded couches all in a circle with a busted coffee table in the center that either had a bong or hookah on it, ready for community use. 

Always playing chill music, full of wondrous paintings and vibrant murals that various friends have done — it was the clubhouse of all clubhouses and all run by the ASL boys themselves; Ace, Sabo, and Luffy.

The first member, the self-proclaimed founding member, is currently sitting next to you with a triumphant smile on his face, grinding up some weed. After the exhausting day at the beach, everyone has decided to go out to the bar instead of staying in for the night.

A part of you had wanted to go with them and maybe do a couple of shots and make out with someone for a little while. A night where your head was as fizzy as a champagne bottle and maybe you could get your mind off of a certain someone.

But then Ace had given you the look.

That look with those big brown puppy eyes of his that never failed to have you cater to his every whim — annoyingly so. 

So you find yourself here, in the still smoke-filled air basement that was full of character from a group of the rowdy young adults you’ve come to know so well next to the man you’ve been pining over since the day you met him.

“I can't believe you dressed up like the dude from Magic Mike.” You flick his cowboy hat up, knocking it back and giving it a slightly disheveled look.

“Not just any dude, I'm dressed as Dallas.” Ace shakes his head, focused on rolling another joint in his favorite strawberry-printed rolling paper for the two of you to share. The one you had earlier burned out with the group and Ace had promised you another if you agreed to stay behind with him

“You just wanted an excuse to be shirtless.” Not that you were really complaining.

“First of all, I'm not shirtless.” Ace patted the unbuttoned vest that loosely hung over his taut frame. “Second of all, I did it for the hat that you so rudely hurt.”

“My apologies then.” The sarcasm drips from your tone and Ace casts you a sidelong glance, sticking his tongue out at you before using it to lick the joint.

“At least I was creative.” He says, his dark eyes trailing along your body. Even though he’s clearly appraising the outfit and not you, a chill runs down your spine. “Weren’t you a cat last year too?”

“Shut up, you know that Luffy ruined the angel wings I was going to wear.” Ace hands you the joint in surrender, motioning for you to go first as he fishes the lighter out from between the couch cushions. 

You put it in your mouth, lips wrapping around the filter as the sparks fly. It illuminates the small space in front of you and casts a soft glow over Ace's freckled face. 

Suddenly, he felt a little too close. You take in the way he carefully lights it for you, his tongue peeking out as he focuses on the task at hand. As soon as the flame catches the paper, his eyes flicker up to yours.

You inhale, begrudgingly taking in some of the smoke of the wrap before it cherries at the end, an influx of weed hitting your lungs harsher than you intended.

“Easy now.” Ace tries to stifle his laugh as you cough a little, your head still reeling from the close proximity. He takes the joint from your fingers, gently brushing his against yours before taking a hit himself.

Ever the show-off, the smoke barely leaves his lips before he begins to inhale it through his nose. He smirks at you as he does it, effortlessly inhaling the thick flume of smoke.

“You’re so lame for gatekeeping that trick by the way.” You huff at the man across from you, taking the joint back from him to continue your sesh. 

“I gotta have something to impress you, right?” Ace leans back on the couch a little more, eyes growing hazy and red as he watches you. His tattooed arm dangles off the back of the couch while you try not to take what he says to heart. But he looks back at you, head tilting a little so he peeks at you from under his hat. “But I suppose I can teach you something else.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?” Taking another hit, you let the smoke rush through your lungs and let it saturate every bit while it screams in protest the longer you hold onto it. Ace shifts ahead, leaning in so he’s closer to you and spreading his legs so his thigh brushes against yours. 

“You really wanna know?” His warm breath caresses your ear as he speaks, his nose barely nudging the lobe. The sudden seductive shift in his voice throws you off your axis and plummets you into his gravitational pull.

“Yes.” The approval slips out of your mouth with the rest of the smoke. 

Ace moves his face so it's in front of yours, his eyes scanning your features as he takes a hit. You’re not even sure when he grabbed the joint but you don’t question it. not when his fingers cup your jaw so sweetly.

“What’re you—“ The question dies out as he shakes his head. Everything feels tingly but the way he’s cusping your face makes it ten times worse, setting your skin on fire as your face heats up.

Carefully, he tilts your head toward him before he leans in. Your breath hitches as his lips brush against yours, his fingers pulling on your jaw so your mouth opens a little more.

With a direct softness you’ve never gotten from him, he blows the smoke out from his mouth and into yours. The weed coats your taste buds before his tongue slips into your mouth to steal it all away. His eagerness rivals the hit in a silent contest of who can take your breath away more.

Ace's hand doesn’t move from your face and he uses it to his advantage to kiss you further. If you thought your mind was fuzzy before, it was absolute static now as your twirls swirl together.

He grins against your lips, humming approvingly as you begin to kiss him back. But it was over far too soon and it takes everything in you not to chase his fleeting lips.

“So?” He smirks and pulls away from you, taking another hit as you try to catch your breath.

“What the hell was that?” Your thigh was still pressing against his but you couldn’t find it in you to move. Part of you longed to push further, to lean into him and melt into his searing touch. But your mind was still trying to play catch up from what just happened.

“Shotgunning.” He blows the smoke out straight into the air and your heart pangs with a strange jealousy. “Did you like it?”

“Yes.” You bite your lip. Maybe a little too much. You pause, tasting the words on your tongue before you utter them. “I wanna try it again.”

Ace sucks in his breath, the smoke plummeting to his lungs as he takes in your wish. Coughing slightly, he sits up straighter on the couch and tries to gather himself.

“Yeah?” The gravely rasp in his voice swirls with the underlying desire and draws you in further. 

There’s no going back now.

“Yeah,” You nod slowly. Neither of you bat an eye as you slide into his lap, accidentally rolling your hips against his lap as you do. Ace lets out a choked groan of your name, shifting underneath you. “Ready?”

Galaxies bloom in his eyes as they light up, eagerly tilting his head up in anticipation. The joint sits on your lips before you take the hit, watching him under you as he looks up at you from beneath his dark lashes. Desire pools in your abdomen and before you can think about what you want, your lips meet once again.

It’s a blur between tongues as the smoke fizzles out. You’re not even sure if you did it right, but then again, it wasn’t really your main objective.

The joint disappears from your fingers and you can feel Ace shift to ash it out on the side table. Unburdened, his arms wrap around you and his hands splay across your back, pulling you closer to him and deepening the kiss.

Your lungs beg for reprieve but the taste of Ace’s sweet tongue is too addicting to let up. But he shows mercy and pulls away, suffering from the same affliction. 

Everything felt fuzzy around the edges, your brain fully saturated in something syrupy sweet that had your hips involuntarily moving again as soon as your foreheads pressed together.

The faint aroma of sea salt still wove itself in the tangled curls of Ace’s hair, filling your senses despite all the smoke that currently clung to the thick air. 

“Ace.” You gasp softly, the faint outline of his hardening cock coming to life right between your thighs. 

“Yeah? You feel that?” To further his point, he pushes his hips up against your overheating core. “Feel what you do to me?”

“Yes.” With every slow grind of your hips, you can feel him growing harder beneath you. The friction was rolling over your body like a wave hitting the shore, but it was fleeting. “I want more.”

“Can you handle more?” The smirk that dangles off his face has you wanting to roll your eyes but you relent. The craving for him was too much, threatening to boil over and fully consume you.

“I can.” You nod, lips hovering over his. “I want to try.”

Ace closes the distance, unable to curb his own carnal urges that run rampant in his body. The way your lips mesh together, tasting like weed and strawberry-flavored chapstick becomes something he knows he’ll get addicted to. 

Your fingers dance along his chest, teasing under the vest before landing on the buckle of his belt. All the while he reaches up your skirt, tugging on your panties and dragging them down your legs.

The rest is a blur of motion, but the messy way his lips move with yours is vivid. It’s almost jarring how much you can taste him, how much his grunts of approval seep into your skin and run through your veins

You pull back at an absolute loss for breath, panting against his mouth as his tongue pokes out to trace your parted lips. The bottom half of your clothes are gone and his are haphazardly halfway down his thigh. 

Ace's hand grips the base of his cock as you hover over it, pumping it and squeezing his tip as it leaks with pearly drops of precum. 

“You're gonna be a good girl and take it all for me?” His knuckles brush along your soaked slit, running along it back and forth, absolutely mesmerized as he waits for your answer.

“Yes, I'll be good.” The words are nothing more than a breath of air, your lungs squeezing in protest. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” His tip prods your entrance, both of you throbbing as the last thread of self-control burns like a stick of dynamite. The slow, sparkling crawl of anticipation before everything explodes, lighting each other aflame in a whirlwind of desire. “You turn into such a little slut when you’re high, don’t you?”

“Ace.” You whine, watching the slow spread of his signature boyish grin take up his face. Warm palms rest on your hips, fingers gripping into your skin as he soaks up the absolute need in your voice. 

“What?” He chuckles lowly, his voice still raspy from the smoke. “All I'm saying is that — ohh shit…“

The rest of his sentence melts into a groan as you slowly lower yourself onto his cock.

“That’s it.” He groaned, his palms sliding to rest on your thighs to help guide you. It takes everything in him not to push you all the way down, letting you take your time as you adjust during your descent.

Everything stands still as he finally bottoms out, filling you up and stretching you out in ways no one has ever done before. The pressure is insurmountable yet it brings you a wave of pleasure that has your body singing for more.

“Holy fuck, you feel like heaven.” Ace practically moans at the way your silky walls clamp around him. His fingers move once again to grip your hips in a bruising hold, stilling himself from spilling into you immediately.

“Of course, you talk a lot during sex.” You let out a scoffed chuckle, clutching onto his shoulders as you spread your legs a little more and letting him sink in even deeper. 

“Aw, complaining already?” He gives you a lazy grin, slowly grinding his hips up against you. The steady throb of his cock melts your brain more than the weed did, the residual high becoming overshadowed by the man under you. “Or let me guess, you just can’t take a compliment?”

“Shut up.” You huff, rocking your hips before raising yourself back up. His cock partially slides out of you and glistens with your essence, coating it completely. Ace's eyes zero in on it, drinking in the sight before you ease back down.

“Fuck.” Ace's head hangs off the back of the couch as he gazes at you through half-lidded eyes. The hat he was wearing falls behind him, completely forgotten. His palms glide along your sides, sliding them up and down before cupping your ass and trying to speed up your movements. “Please, you gotta move faster.”

“Do I?” The gravity of the situation sets in, albeit a little delayed — blame it on the weed. But he was completely at your mercy. The pleading look in his eyes speaks volumes despite the cocky words he so rapidly fires off. You lean down, lips brushing against his ear. “Let me guess, can’t handle it?”

Ace's attention snaps back to you, almost fully alert now. The fog from earlier clears from his head as the words he uttered earlier echo from your pretty little mouth. A new challenge fires off inside of him and he was never one to back down from a fight, no matter the position. With a wicked grin, he thrusts his hips heavenward.

“Oh, I can handle it alright.” He murmurs, rubbing the plushness of your ass before giving it a subtle smack. Your body jolts and your chests crash together, almost every part of you is touching him.

The ever-steady rhythm of your heart spins on its axis, thrown off by the rapid beating that sets in syncopation and you can’t find it in you to care. Not when everything you’ve ever wanted is finally clicking into place.

Your bodies move in a euphoric sync, the ebb and flow of the melody you two orchestrate fills the room in a symphony of bliss. You were drowning into Ace’s very essence and in return, he did the same.

“Shit, baby.” Ace groans at the almost lazy pace. Each delicious drag of his cock had your eyes rolling back to your head. Anytime he twitched inside of you was like another jolt of pleasure — knowing that he was getting just as much enjoyment out of this as you was driving you faster to your end. “I've wanted this for so long.”

“What?” You’re completely breathless now. The confession takes away the last shred of oxygen and rips it out of your lungs. The languid roll of your hips doesn't stop though; your mind, heart, and body all chasing what you want in different ways. “Really?”

“God, yeah.” Ace's fingers slid under your shirt as he grabbed your bra-covered chest. “We need to take this off.”

Impressively, his pace doesn’t falter as he rocks up into you while his hand glides to your back and unhooks your bra. It only takes a few seconds for your chest to become completely bare and his head to find its home in the valley of your breasts.

His tongue trails everywhere. Your body burns under it, relief only pooling in the spot between your thighs and wherever he decides to lick away the flames. It cools you off, the words he said earlier filtering back into your mind as the smoke clears.

“I've wanted this too.” You gasp, bouncing a little quicker to prove how much you’ve needed this — him. Ace groans, teeth grazing the swell of your breast before sucking your nipple into his mouth to muffle the noise. “You feel so good, Ace.”

The candy-sweet praise has his head popping back up from where his tongue was swirling around your pert bud and looks at you, eyes trailing over your blissed-out face and the hearts that swirled in your eyes. 

“Come here.” Ace roughly grabs you by your ass, leaning further back into the couch as you tumble on him. He couldn’t hold back anymore, fucking up into you without abandon.

“A-Ace!” You gasp, trying to squirm away a little but the hold he had you in was too tight.

“Take it for me, baby. You said you would.” He moans. Both of your impending highs are heightened by the weed you inhaled only minutes ago. Pleasure rips through your body, sending it into tremors as your thighs shake. “Let go f’me.”

Your high washes over you immediately, body locking up as Ace continues to pound into you and chase his own release.

And it’s beautiful when he reaches it.

He comes with a choked moan of your name, his body tensing up and his fingers digging into your skin. His cock pulses before he completely empties himself into your greedy cunt with sporadic, shallow thrusts.

Both of you slump against each other, melting into the couch as your mind floats down from the clouds and into his warm embrace.

You pull back a little to admire his freckled face and can’t help but unleash the giggle that bubbles from your chest. It was contagious, as joy often is when you’re around him, and he can’t help but mirror you.

The two of you giggling in each other's arms under the shoddy string lights in the basement that has grown to mean so much to you — even more so now. 

The distinct squeak of the floorboard by the basement door sounds off, snapping you both back into reality.

“I thought we were the only ones here.” You sit up, hastily reaching for your clothes and throwing them on. Ace lifts his hips and slides his back on before kissing you on the top of your head and getting up. “Ace–“

“Stay here.” He turns around the corner and out of sight as he starts to go up the stairs. After a few steps in, the door opens and you straighten up. “Oh, it’s you. You little fucking perv.”

The sound of Ace’s boisterous laughter sounds off as two pairs of legs start coming back down. Every nerve is set on fire, anxiety ripping into your chest at the thought of seeing the person who had been listening in on you and Ace fucking.

But the familiar sight of blonde hair snuffs all the worries away, the dastardly pair smiling at you with devious intent.

“I had to pick up so I couldn’t make it to the bar tonight,” Sabo said with a grin, holding up the bag of weed he must’ve scored. “Must be my lucky day.” 

“Must be.” Ace scoffs, making his way back to you. He plops back down into his spot next to you, immediately mouthing at your neck before his voice curls around your ear. You don ’t break eye contact with Sabo as he stalks closer, placing the bag on the table before taking off his gloves. “What do you say, baby? Wanna let him smoke us up and show him exactly what happened down here?”

tags: @bontensh0e @autumnstuffs

[heesdreamer]

Anything

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ Four years after he disappeared from your life your childhood friend and love returns back to town completely changed.

WARNINGS ➩ Heeseung is an addict and not a super amazing person, broken people with bad communication skills, rough smut, like quick hate sex basically. Super angst but I hope it’s still a good read lol… based in the late 90s early 2000s

WC ➩ 11k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ A bit nervous to be posting here again after five months since I’m pretty rusty but hopefully you’ll take it easy on me lol. No part two for this and it’s an open ending (my favorite) so infer what you’d like but feel free to ask me anything about the story or the characters! Hope it’s okay and I missed you guys. NOT PROOFREAD

Summer was pretty much the constant season where you grew up outside of the few weeks the sun disappeared and the rain turned the beaches grey.

You appreciated the break every year considering it just made the heat coming back feel ten times better, that first day being able to run into the ocean again always feeling like your towns personal version of new year.

Let the salt water wash away your sins and the tears that had long dried on your sun kissed cheeks.

Your town had been spared from tourist for most of your childhood even though it’s definitely gained traction during more recent years if the alarming amount of people outside the local diners said anything.

The locals didn’t mind as long as they cleaned up their empty bottles of sunscreen from the public beaches and didn’t interfere with the abundance of native wild life.

You definitely didn’t mind considering you were on your sixth year working at the smoothie shop just a block away from the most popular beach and you enjoyed suckering large families out of large tips by giving them basic fun facts about the area they could use for their vacation.

It was the least you could do as somebody who lived in a permanent one.

This years version of those rainy few weeks came in the suddenly deliverance of news you’d never even imagined hearing let alone prepared yourself to deal with.

“Hey.” Jake sounded out of breath as he crashed through the flimsy door of the smoothie shop, hair wet from either just leaving the beach where he worked as a lifeguard or from the slight drizzle that had started to pick up.

“Hey, don’t get my floor wet. Assuming you’re off this week?” You were folding cleaning rags in preparation for closing up the shop for the next few days due to the news channel continuously warning the locals of a storm coming.

Jake rolled his eyes at your light scolding but you noticed that he did avoid sitting on the stools or touching anything he could get his wetness on.

“Oh so it’s your floor now?” He was cocking an eyebrow up as he looked at you and now it was your turn to roll your eyes, a light smile on your face at the teasing.

You’d know Jake the same amount of time you had known pretty much anybody living in the town which was basically the entire sum of your life. All the kids went to the same small school district and everyone’s parents knew each other to some capacity so there’d never been a time you didn’t know him and your other friends.

“So…” Your extensive knowledge of him made it even more obvious that he was about to tell you something you didn’t want to hear, his tone changing to the same one he used whenever he had to let the beach goers know the waters weren’t safe. “He’s back in town.”

The mood in the small shop changed immediately and you tensed up from where you were still folding the rags, placing the one you were working on back down onto the counter and squeezing it with your hand.

You noticed the rain picking up outside and it was almost ironic how it seemed to match your mood.

“Oh.” That was all you could manage to say and Jake dropped his shoulders in defeat at your dull reaction. “No Jakey thanks for telling me that’s.. it’s nice to have a heads up.”

Neither one of you spoke for a few seconds and you let the sound of the wind whipping around the thin metal panels of the roof distract you just enough to stop you from immediately bombarding him with questions. You didn’t need him to know how much you cared even though you knew he already did.

“Did- did you see him?”

“Saw his mom at the market on my lunch break.” He was watching you so intensely that it was starting to annoy you. He looked like he was waiting for you to explode and you were considering giving him what he wanted just so he’d stop staring like that. “They’re like.. well he’s back in the old house so I’m assuming that means… yeah.”

He was awkward in his delivery but you understood exactly what he meant, your old friend wasn’t just back in town for a vacation or a trip down memory lane but instead he was back for at least the near future.

Your head hung low as you tried your best to not react outwardly but the humorless scoff left your mouth before you could stop it and you heard Jake sigh near the door.

Luck was at least in your favor considering the news was right and the rain didn’t stop for another four days meaning you and the boys didn’t have work and there was no chance of you running into the exact person you wanted to avoid.

You spent your days at Sunghoon’s house which was on the other side of town from where you and the rest of your friends lived.

Sunghoon had been the last person to join your small group and he almost hadn’t been accepted considering he didn’t go to the same school and actually didn’t live there at all. His father was beyond wealthy and owned a nice property up on the hill, a place you and your friends used to sit on the beach and stare at while daydreaming about living there.

He came down every winter from the city so him and his dad could escape the cold and icy roads and then he’d leave again once the temperature picked up.

Naturally this made him a bit of an outcast compared to the rest of you who grew up together and spent nearly every single day hanging out and playing on the beaches but you liked him nonetheless.

He wasn’t as spoiled as you figured he probably could have been and if anything he was actually pretty sheepish whenever someone mentioned how much money he constantly had at his disposal.

You’d all tease him until he bought you snacks and ice cream in bulk just to get you off his back, a silent peace offering.

An even more silent ‘I’m sorry you’re poor and I’m not’.

Once you all got older and his dad got too tired to continue the travel back and forth just to avoid some snow, Sunghoon would come by himself just to see you all and you imagined it was any day now before he decided to stay for good.

The image from their hillside property was breathtaking even through the storm, floor to ceiling windows that you’d perch yourself on while the others slept. It had a perfect view of the biggest beach and the mountains behind it and despite growing up with it as your backdrop, you never got used to it.

“Can’t sleep?” Riki’s voice was echoing through the nearly empty living room, a feat of Sunghoon’s dad practically moving out.

You turned your head to see him shuffling towards you in his pajamas with an open bottle of wine in his hands. He was taking a swig before nudging your leg with his hand so you would move it and he could sit down beside you with a groan.

His back was against the other side of the windowsill and your legs were crossing over his in a mirror image but he looked just as exhausted as you figured you did and it was sort of comforting to know you weren’t the only one handling this bad.

“When do I ever sleep?” Your hand was sticking out as you spoke and he took one more sip of the wine before handing the bottle over to you.

Your face pulled into a grimace at the sour taste and he laughed softly at the reaction before leaning forward to snatch it back and keep it away from you. You looked back out the window but you could feel him staring at you now and you sighed.

Riki had been around just as long as Jake had but he was also your neighbor which added another layer of familiarity. There was no hiding your family issues with him like you attempted with the others because he was one window away and often the person you ran to when things got too hard.

“Saw him in town you know, before we headed up here.” He was starting off in a whisper like he was testing the waters and you were getting sick of people treating you like a loose canon when it came to this. “He looks different.”

“Obviously. He was a kid last time we saw him and he’s what, 20 now?” You phrased it like you weren’t too sure but both of you were aware that you knew his exact age. You’d never forgotten his birthday and your mood soured every year on that day for the past four times it cycled past.

“21.” Riki clarified anyways and you appreciated that you both pretended you’d be able to make that mistake. “And I don’t just mean he grew up I mean he looks terrible.”

Your stomach turned uncomfortably as graphic images made their way into your mind and you squeezed your eyes tight at the thought of him and what he could possibly look like now.

“Why are you telling me this Riki?” You sounded hurt and lost and you felt his leg nudging yours again like he was either trying to comfort you or snap you out of the tense state you’d fallen into. You opened your eyes and stared at him and the way the moonlight highlighted the side of his face.

“I told him I’d meet him for lunch once the storm cleared up.” He said it slowly and that made it that much easier for you to hear the overwhelming guilt in his voice. “I’d like for you to be there. I’m asking you to be there.”

Your face fell flat but he didn’t stop looking at you as he dropped the bomb and you almost wanted to shy away from the intense gaze just waiting for you to show that you cared.

“You can’t ask me that.” It came out as a whisper and you hated how weak you sounded at just the idea of seeing him.

“But I am.”

—

Two days later the clouds were gone like they’d never been there and the unrelenting heat was building back up at full force. You all returned down from the hillside property with raging hangovers and a suffocating promise.

You tried to ignore your phone ringing on the wall because you knew who it was, or at least could guess out of three names but it was pointless considering Riki was right next door and the ringing soon turned to knocks at your window.

So you told yourself you agreed to the lunch because you were sick of being harassed about it and it was not because you needed to see him for yourself.

If anything this was your chance to prove you didn’t care about him and you just had never felt that level of loss before. It wouldn’t kill you to hear his voice and listen to the way it’s changed over the lost time and you’d be able to get through the meal with a few awkward conversations before getting to go back to your regular life.

You were immediately proven wrong the second you pushed into the restaurant and you would have stopped in your tracks if it wasn’t for Riki’s guiding hand on your lower back.

He worked at this restaurant and it was directly on the shore of the beach so despite it being busy post storm he was easily maneuvering you through it towards the table.

You stayed back a few feet as the boy stood up and went to greet your other friends, a few awkward seconds passing like they didn’t know wether to shake hands or hug before Jake was moving forward and pulling the older boy into a tight embrace.

Sunghoon was doing the same and rubbing the back of his head comfortably before Riki gave him a familiar pat on the shoulder due to the fact they’d already gone through the first encounter nerves.

The three boys immediately climbed into the booth and started to flip through the menus to give you some privacy even though you all knew they’d eaten the same things here since they were kids and knew every dish like the back of their hand.

You still appreciated the gesture considering the second he looked at you your heart clenched painfully and you suddenly felt like you were 17 again.

“Hey y/n.” His voice was low as he spoke but you could still hear it enough to notice you barely recognized it. It had dropped a few octaves and it was painfully raspy.

“You look like shit Hee.” Your blunt words and the use of the familiar nickname made him scoff out a laugh and he nodded his head in agreement to your insult.

He truly did even though you were just trying to tease him and loosen the atmosphere. He was ten shades paler than the rest of you but you had a feeling it wasn’t due to him not being around the sun all the time anymore. He looked nearly sickly and your stomach turned the more you saw the signs of that being true.

His eyes looked tired and sad but what was the worst change was how skinny he was. He’d always been thin but now he was towering over you and still looking like a strong wave could take him out.

He sniffed uncomfortably because of your intense gaze and your eyes honed in on his prominent wrist bone and the way he flicked at his nostril.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the action and he immediately lowered his arm like he’d just been caught doing something, confirming your belief.

The silence was awkward but luckily one of Riki’s coworkers was approaching to get your drinks and you scooted past the tall boy so you could slide in the booth besides Sunghoon.

It was unusual for you to be nearly silent and not engaging in the conversation but you couldn’t really handle trying to fumble your way through acting like everything was normal like the others were.

You started to wonder if they really did think it was just a normal meal while catching up with a childhood friend.

It blew your mind to consider that maybe they didn’t see the way Heeseung was constantly bouncing his knee and picking apart his napkin or the fact he’d barely taken a bite of food the entire time. Did they not see his fidgeting eyes and the fact he looked sick every glance he took towards your direction.

The boys did their best to fill the silence without bringing up anything that would let Heeseung know how much he’d missed out on and soon enough everyone was having to go back to work.

You’d gotten the day off since the storm had drastically killed off the tourist that make up 90% of your daily customers and you could tell the boy across from you felt a bit lost when everyone stated their plans for the rest of the day.

“Did you maybe want to go to the beach with me?” You had no idea why you were inviting him but by the time you noticed the shocked look on your friends faces, it was too late and the offer was hanging heavily in the air.

He looked around like he wasn’t quite sure you were talking to him and his eyes were a little more alert when he finally turned back to face you.

“Uh yeah sure.”

Riki gave you a cautious look as you left and Sunghoon parted you with a swift kiss on the cheek and another firm hug for Heeseung. Jake was heading to the same place as you for his shift as a lifeguard so it made the walk down the street a little less awkward.

The roles reversed from lunch and now it was Heeseung’s turn to fall silent while you and Jake softly joked and made casual commentary on the damage the storm had did. You would have forgotten he was there at all if not for his constantly sniffling and the fact his presence shifted your entire atmosphere.

“Be safe yeah?” You weren’t sure if it was meant to have a double meaning but Jake made your stomach turn as he left your side to head to the watch tower.

Heeseung was clearing his throat beside you but you ignored him in favor of finding an umbrella to sit near, not quite under so you could still feel the sun on your skin. He opted for sitting directly under the shade and you were brought back to when you were kids and he was always the last one inside.

He was impossible to tame and get out of the water even long after the sun set and the parents began to call you all home but he couldn’t be more different now.

Memories of his freckled tan face smiling at you, eyes squinted against the bright sky with his hand above his eyebrows to try and block it so he could see you better. His laugh always the loudest sound over the crashing waves and the way it felt when he’d wrap his arms around you to throw you into the water.

Now he was practically curling in on himself to avoid the rays and he looked almost pained at the sounds of the kids playing and splashing around.

It was hard to believe this was the same boy who had you convinced there was salt water in his veins.

“Since when are you getting high?”

You didn’t sound at all accusatory in your question, just plainly asking for an answer to the obvious but he immediately tensed up and sent a glare that would have you believing you’d gotten it wrong if it wasn’t for the embarrassment in his eyes.

He took a few seconds to answer but you extended your thin patience towards him and waited.

“I’m not anymore.” He had a funny tone to his that almost sounded like he was saying an inside joke, something you clearly didn’t understand and your face furrowed. “That’s why I’m here actually.”

Your mouth was parting in realization and you couldn’t help the bitter laugh that slipped out of you. You felt overwhelmingly stupid in that moment but it wasn’t necessarily your fault for not assuming the worst about his intentions.

“Here I thought you were back because you actually missed us. Didn’t realize this was your rehab.” He didn’t look amused anymore and you were struck by how much you wanted to see him smile at you again.

He nodded and looked away from you and that was enough for you to realize the conversation was over.

—

four years ago

You’d never been anywhere else but you had a hard time believing any other place could measure up to what you were experiencing now.

The sounds of your lifelong friends splashing each other and laughing as they took unexpected blows from the waves, bodies crashing through the surface of the water and pushing back through with groans of playful annoyance.

You knew the sun was setting soon which meant the head lifeguard (who happened to be jake’s older brother) was going to usher you all back home and away from the water but you would have given anything for the moment to freeze.

Even if your butt was damp from the wet sand you were sitting on and you were starting to shiver from the lack of clothes paired with the disappearing heat.

You watched as another head popped out of the water before standing to his full height and glancing around like he was searching for something. His gaze stopped on you and a bright smile broke out on his face at the sight of you sitting on the beach and observing the scene.

It made you feel warm to see him brush off your friends and push through the water so he could get over to you, shaking his head to semi dry his hair and laughing when you squealed at the sudden wetness hitting you.

“You cold?” He was flopping down onto the sand next to you and his cold skin brushed yours for a second before you flinched away and groaned.

“Yeah but I think Jaeyun’s brother is gonna make us leave any second anyways.” You were scrunching your nose up as you looked over at him and he smiled up at you.

Heeseung always seemed to be smiling but especially in your direction.

You weren’t an idiot and you didn’t at all miss the fact that he was extra attached to you. You had a deeper bond than anybody else in the group and even though you weren’t exactly sure when the transition into something deeper happened, you were sure you both could feel it constantly bubbling under the surface.

It wasn’t something you felt like you needed to confess or say out loud officially because you had all the time in the world here with him.

“Come swim with us.” He was watching you as your hand reached over to swipe the drying sand off his forehead.

“Not happening Hee sorry.” You smiled when he groaned and rolled over onto his back, knowing you had made up your mind by the tone in your voice. “We can always swim tomorrow.”

—

Tomorrow never came because the next morning you were racing down to the Lee house with a plate of cinnamon rolls Riki’s mom had made and finding it almost completely empty.

Your heart had dropped into your stomach but you still slowly approached the familiar door and knocked against it softly.

Typically you didn’t even bother knocking considering you were there more than your own house but something was off and you suddenly felt like an intruder.

The sight of his grandma opening the door and giving you a pained expression when she saw it was you almost fully killed you and if that didn’t do it then the fact she softly whispered to you that he wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon definitely did.

It was hard not to grab her by the shoulders and demand she tell you where he had gone and it was even harder to hold in your sobs as you ran all the way back to the house next to yours, bursting into Riki’s living room and climbing into his bed to cry while you waited for him to get off work.

He’d barely understood you through your blubbering sobs and when he did he was joining you in the bed and falling into a hurt silence.

The hurt rippled through you for months until you gathered the courage to ask his grandma for his address so you could write him a letter.

She was clearly reluctant but she gave it to you anyways and you spent all week writing it and expressing to him how you felt, both for him and about the fact he had left without saying goodbye. You wished she’d turned you down when it got sent right back unopened and the same thing happened for the next twenty after that.

You kept writing them for two years even though they’d always make their way back to the post office and at the end of that summer, you finally put the pen down.

At some point during the third year you’d gotten a postcard that had no writing on it or even a signature. It was just a blank card with a photo of some cartoonish cherry blossoms and a small river.

You somehow knew it was from him without any confirmation and you wept like a baby in the middle of all the mailboxes, hugging it to your chest and swearing you’d never let yourself feel like that again. You almost sent it back to him like he’d done to you for so long but instead you stuffed it under your pillow and tried to not feel it’s weight every night you slept.

Now four years later he was suddenly everywhere again.

He’d started to work at the surfboard rental shop across from your own place and he was practically at every single hangout like nothing had changed.

Except everything had changed and he was such a jarringly different person that you almost felt like you were hanging out with the corpse of your old friend.

“We’ve gotta get you some sun man.” Jake was disguising his concerns with some light teasing one of the days you all made your way up to Sunghoon’s place but you all knew Heeseung and his current state was the constant elephant in the room.

“Yeah.” His noncommittal low mumbling was about the most you got out of him these days and you sighed from where you were laying on the couch.

His empty gaze landed on you when you were standing up and pushing Sunghoon’s legs off of you (much to his annoyance). You approached him and stuck your hand out in his direction just to be met with a raised eyebrow and no movement.

“Cmon let’s go.” You were firm in your words and shaking your hand slightly to urge him to take it in his before you got too impatient. He sighed at you but did exactly that and you pushed aside the warmth that spread you in favor of pulling him up so he was standing.

You were slightly thrown off by how close he ended up next to you so you took a step back while raking over his tall frame and clearing your throat.

“I’m sick of your moping.” You didn’t expect him to continue holding your hand after you pulled him up but you took advantage of the opportunity and started to tug him behind you as you walked towards the doors.

Heeseung stayed silent as you dragged him outside and down the long sandy steps that led down the hillside and onto the small private beach that the park family owned. You never hung out there much as kids considering you weren’t allowed to surf here and you preferred the large waves and active community of the public one but it would do for now.

“What are we doing?” He was finally speaking once you dropped his hand and turned to look at him.

“Going swimming obviously.” You were pulling your shirt over your head the second you finished speaking so you just barely saw his reaction to your hands grabbing the bottom hem.

It was long enough that you managed to watch his eyes widen and drop down to the sudden skin showing but he somehow was able to have a blank expression again by the time you got it off and tossed it onto the sand carelessly.

You’d turned to walk closer to the water but you stopped and looked over your shoulder when you realized he wasn’t following you anymore.

“Cmon.” Your thumbs pushed down the hem of your shorts to showcase the rest of your bikini and now you heard him scoff a laugh as the water touched your ankles.

The water was unusually cold from the few cloudy days you’d had but you were determined now to get him to have some fun and open up a little bit before he really started to bum the rest of you out.

You fought your smile when you heard light splashing behind you and when you finally turned around you were thrown off by the amount of pale skin you were seeing. Obviously you knew he’d have to take off his shirt to get in the water but you were mainly stuck on the changes to his body.

He’d clearly filled out, something you could have guessed from the height, and now he looked surprisingly strong unlike his lanky frame he had when you were younger. Outfit of his ribs slightly showing, he definitely had some muscle definition that you looked away from immediately.

Your eyes landed on what was even more jarring and he surprisingly didn’t shy away when you scanned over the bruising covering his stomach and sides.

You met his gaze for just a second and he just stood there with the light ripples hitting his belly button.

“Get into some trouble?” Your question was light and almost teasing so he had room to ignore you. You didn’t want to bombard him for answers especially since it wasn’t really your place anymore.

If this had been four years ago, you would have wrapped him up in your arms and demanded to know who possibly could have hurt him but that boy wasn’t here anymore. He definitely wasn’t the cold one standing in front of you.

“Something like that.” His response was as uncharacteristic as you expected it to be and you simply nodded your head before waiting for him to catch up to you.

He was up to his chest now in the water and you were starting to struggle to stay afloat which seemed to amuse him if the quirk of his lips told you anything.

“Isn’t this nice?” Your voice was quieter now and you almost face palmed at how nervous and unnatural you sounded.

Heeseung was just watching you like you were the one who had changed but there was something heavy in his eyes now. You almost flinched at the feeling of his warm leg brushing yours under the water once he was finally starting to relax and float a little but you managed to collect yourself.

He hummed in agreement but you could tell he was just doing it to give you the answer he knew you wanted to hear.

You wondered if the cold water felt good on his bruises or if you were just making him feel worse by trying to help.

“Surprised you didn’t bring the others.” He was talking again surprisingly and now he was fully floating on his back with his gaze set on the sky and the colors of the setting sun. “Since you and Sunghoon are so close now.”

The jealous tone of his voice was not something you were used to and you didn’t realize he could sound even less like himself until he proved you wrong.

Heeseung and you had always been each others number ones and he’d never had to doubt his position in your life before but it made you blood boiling mad that he had such an accusatory tone now like you’d done something wrong.

Did he expect you to sit around and mope forever, holding out hope that he’d maybe decide to return one day despite not even knowing where he’d gone?

“We’ve always been close Heeseung. We all are.” Your voice was stable despite how the opposite you felt and something unsaid was being heard loudly in your choice of words.

For the first time since he came back, you were blatantly excluding him from the group. None of you were teenagers anymore and you’d been through a decade of stories and experiences just in the last few years as you transitioned into adults.

Maybe the sight of him now, grown up and empty, wouldn’t have hurt so bad if you watched it happen slowly instead of all at once. Maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way at all and he would have been a totally different person with your influence.

You immediately felt guilty and gross for giving yourself that much credit.

“It’s different now though.” He seemed set in his idea that you and Sunghoon had some secret deeper bond and you didn’t even try to argue with him this time.

“You’re different.” The response you settled with was pretty petty and he seemed to agree judging by the way he scoffed but he was sitting up and moving a tad closer to you in the water.

“Yeah well you’re exactly the same.” He said it so simply that you couldn’t tell if it was meant to be an insult, compliment or simply just an observation. He was either calling you immature or making a callback to how your relationship used to be.

You figured it was the latter when his hand was brushing against your waist under the water.

“Not all of me.” Your voice had gotten lower now as you realized the mood was shifting to something you’d not experienced with him before.

You’d always found Heeseung attractive obviously but he was so young and you weren’t exactly the age either where you were thinking about him in this way. Sure, he’d been touchy back then with his hand in yours or an arm around your waist as you walked together but never with this look in his eye.

It felt wrong to have him shifting even closer to you, bare chest and his wet hair almost covering his eyes as he stared down due to your newfound height difference.

Mainly the wrong feeling came due to the fact that you barely knew him now and you didn’t want to get to know him like this. You wished it had happened naturally, your friendship had returned when he did and so did your comfortability and maybe eventually the love buried deep in your chest.

But you were so desperate to feel something from him, anything that might indicate he had once cared about you. So you didn’t push him away when he leaned down to kiss you.

His mouth was hot against yours and suddenly all of the teasing touches and heavy glances made a lot more sense.

He had a desperation you didn’t expect and your head was spinning by the time he was pulling you even closer by your waist and slotting his knee in between your legs under the water.

“Hee.” You breathed out his name as he licked into your mouth and he shushed you impatiently, not wanting to give you the chance to stop him before he’d even gotten to really have you.

You weren’t going to and your hips were rolling against his leg, the water hitting higher up on your stomach and making you gasp from the cold and how it splashed over your covered chest.

He seemed to notice considering he was impatiently pulling the fabric of your bikini top away from your skin and you moaned when his mouth was leaving yours in favor of hungrily connecting with your hard nipples. The warmth of his mouth made you spin and you held the back of his head against your chest.

His knee was rocking under you and you kept grinding yourself down on it, free hand wrapping around his back and feeling the muscles clench everytime he moved himself towards you.

“Hee.” you gasped out his name again and this time he atleast hummed in acknowledgement, big hands gripping your waist and forcing you to keep moving against him.

“Cmon y/n, stop fucking talking.” His mouth was back on yours and this time it was you who immediately licked into his closed lips, the sound of his low voice spurring you on even more.

He was lifting you out of the water and your legs wrapped around his waist so you wouldn’t fall. You didn’t even realize he’d be strong enough to lift you but he seemed to have no problem as he started walking towards the shore and you rolled your hips into his hard on that you could now feel pressing against you.

Your mouth parted when you felt how hard he was already and he laid you gently down onto the sand before climbing ontop of you and kissing you again.

This time his body was covering you and you whined when his hips lowered down on yours.

He was sitting up for only a second so he could finish untying your bathing suit and tugging it off of you and you watched as his eyes locked hungrily on your bare chest while you panted heavily.

Your eyes were big and wanting as you stared up at him and the sight was almost too much so he went back to kissing you deeply.

His body was still just as wet as yours and the feeling of his hot skin warming up what the water had cooled was almost as addicting as the way he rolled his hips down slowly.

“Fuck y/n.” He was groaning into your neck and you inhaled at the way he was biting the skin and definitely leaving marks on you. “Used to be mine remember?”

You were shaking your head in disagreement but the way you were rocking your hips and holding onto the back of his head was very telling, you might as well have had his name carved on you.

“Gonna make you mine again.”

Heeseung was pushing your bathing suit bottoms to the side and playing with the waistband of his before impatiently shoving them down onto his thighs. You were both hurt by his impatience and extremely turned on by the fact he was about to take you on the beach without even fully undressing you.

“Tell me you want it.” His tongue licked up to your ear and you gasped at the feeling of his thick head pressing against your wetness, your legs spreading automatically for him.

“Want it. Want it Hee.” You were breathing heavily and trying to fuck yourself down on him even though it was pointless considering how strong his grip on your waist was, pinning you down against the sand and feeling the way you arched up into him when he started to push himself inside.

The slide was easy and your cry was loud enough that you almost worried the other boys would be able to hear you.

“Fucking tight.” His voice was strained as he spat the words through gritted teeth and you clenched around him at the praise, wanting to make him feel as good as he was so easily doing to you. “Perfect pussy for me, sliding right in. So wet y/n.”

His constant use of your name made you feel even more insane and you whined louder when he bottomed out inside you. Heeseung didn’t waste any time before he was starting to roughly fuck into you and it was exactly what you needed after years of pent of anger and emotions.

“Fuck me hard Hee.” You begged him through your cries and he gladly delivered exactly what you needed, slamming his hips against yours so fast it was painful. “Fucking hate you.”

“Hate you so much.” His rebuttal was quick and he caught your mouth in a rough kiss as he spoke, teeth hitting yours making you wince in pain.

“Show me. Fuck me like you hate me.”

He was doing what you asked without any question and you almost broke from how much you could feel it radiating off of him, hate and anger stemming from something you didn’t even understand.

Then it was over before you even processed it started and you were both left panting on the sand as the sun finished setting and the sand underneath you dried.

Heeseung was rolling away from you to land on his back with a grunt and your entire body shivered when you felt his arm pressing against yours and giving you a little bit of warmth that barely made up for how cold you felt all over.

Everything surrounding you was cold now and him not saying a single world just made it ten times worse.

You were hit with shame and guilt tenfold and tears were springing to yours eyes before you could stop them. You vaguely heard him shifting next to you and sniffing loudly, your head turning to him.

Your eyes grew in size when you saw he’d dug something out of his discarded shirts pocket and was sitting up with his head turned away from you like it would make what he was doing any less obvious.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Your voice was low and venomous and your hands uncomfortably went to cover your chest as you sat up and scooted away from him. “You’re getting high?”

He didn’t even look over at you as he cleared his burning throat and shoved whatever the small capsule was back into his crumbled up shirt. The sight of him rolling his eyes like you were annoying him almost made you just sink into the ocean and disappear.

“Get dressed before they come down here and find you like that.” He was standing up as he spoke again and you hated that the tears were fully falling now, hot on your flushed cheeks.

Your shaking hands did their best to tie up your bikini top and he finally looked down at where you were still sitting on the sand and sobbing. You weren’t sure he could see the tears considering how dark it was now but when he turned his face away with a cold expression you knew that he had.

Heeseung was pulling his shift over his head and hesitating for just a few seconds while looking at the stairs back up to the house, almost like he was considering leaving you there.

“Who even are you?” You weren’t sure how you managed to speak so strongly through your cries but he clearly felt the impact of it as he tensed up and his jaw locked.

“Does it matter?”

——

After you’d gotten dressed you had stormed past him up the steps only after slamming your shoulder into his side and steeling your expression. He gave you a few seconds before he was following you up but he didn’t come inside when you got up there.

You’d gone up to Riki and quietly asked him if he could take you home, cold hands shaking as they gripped his wrist and eyes still swollen.

The other boys were silent when they saw the state of you and you just hoped they couldn’t guess what had happened, shame hitting you hard at even the idea of them finding out how you’d just been used and discarded so easily.

You sat there the entire car ride back to town with your head half out the window and the warm summer air doing it’s best to stop the tears from rolling down your face.

Riki didn’t ask you any questions and you were grateful when he pulled into his own driveway and not yours, not even realizing how much you didn’t want to go home until you saw your front door and felt the nausea building.

It was unspoken that he let you rot in the bed in the spare room for the first few days and by day three Jake was rubbing your back softly and trying to get you to eat something.

Sunghoon came and went constantly and you spent most nights with him laying beside you, not touching or speaking but just having him there. You weren’t sure if they’d figured it out or if Heeseung told them but something in you knew that they knew what happened.

You started to feel slightly better after a week of moping and letting yourself finally feel the heartbreak that’d be been building for so many years and after two weeks you were back to work.

If you spent more your shift looking out the window to try to get a glimpse of him in the shop across the street then that was your own personal secret.

He was still somebody you cared about as frustrating as that was but it still made you sick that you started to worry when you hadn’t seen him for a few weeks.

It had been almost a month since that night on the beach and you no longer could assume he was just avoiding you. The town was too small and you would have run into by now regardless if you wanted that or not so he’d either been completely isolating himself or he was gone again and you weren’t sure which one of those hurt you more.

“He’s still here.” Sunghoon’s voice was low next to your ear as you laid in his bed this time, giving Riki and his family a break even though he insisted they didn’t need or want one.

You still wanted to come up here with Sunghoon even though it was a bit hard considering what had happened last time but you figured it was hard for him to be in such a big house all by himself now that his dad wasn’t coming anymore.

“Did you talk to him?” You were rolling onto your stomach and looking at him with wide eyes and he sighed softly as he studied the hope on your face.

“Not really.” He was mumbling now and the pout your lips formed almost made him feel sick. “Just for a second. I was skating past his place.”

You were nodding in understanding but you felt weirdly settled that he hadn’t gone anywhere and he was seemingly here to stay despite how it always felt like he was trying his hardest to get away from you all. You should have get the times worse that he was around and you had a change to run into him sooner than later but you were an idiot at heart.

“He doesn’t deserve you being sad for him, you know that right?” Your hair was being pushed behind your ear by Sunghoon’s hand and you watched him as he stared.

He looked vulnerable and it made sense considering he was not the type of person to say things like that to anybody, especially not to you. Your heart hurt hearing it from somebody else but you gave a soft nod anyways despite not at all agreeing with what he was saying.

“I mean it. You’re like… the best thing any of us could even begin to imagine and he acts like you’re going to stay no matter how he treats you. He’s always been like that, you just didn’t want to see it.”

Your face fell as he kept talking and getting more and more upset. You’d had no idea he felt this way or even noticed things like that and you hated that you started to think about what Heeseung had insinuated before on the beach.

It made you feel overly warm to consider that Sunghoon might have some type of feelings towards you and yet here he was, laying in bed with you for days and comforting you after you let some asshole break your heart for the thousandth time.

“I’m not going to let him do that to me anymore Hoon.” You heard your voice as it came out and heard how obvious the lie was, knowing he did too when he was just blankly staring at you.

“You love him.” His response was curt but it hit you full force and you tried your best not to let any visible reaction show. “You chose him a long time ago.”

You weren’t sure if he was talking about you choosing Heeseung over yourself and your own well-being or if he was once again saying what you think he might have been.

The guilt coursed through you when you were laying your head down on his chest and listening to how fast his heartbeat started to pulse but you couldn’t look at his honest face anymore and the conversation needed to end before it was all too much.

It was only building more when the next morning you were writing him a note letting him know you’d be back soon before hitching a ride back into town.

You spent the entire hour it took getting to Heeseung’s house both trying to gather the courage to go through with your idea and also trying to talk yourself out of it, reaching a peak of panic when you were knocking softly on his door.

He took a long time to open and just as you were about to turn around and leave, there he was.

Standing in the doorway that you’d seen him in close to a thousands times but looking so different that it felt brand new. He didn’t look surprised to see you on his porch and that made you feel even shittier.

“You okay?” He surprised you with the question and how genuine it sounded but you kept your face flat.

“Are you okay?” You emphasized the word and shifted uncomfortably in place until he was stepping aside and letting you in the small house. “The boys are worried about you.”

If he knew you were lying than he didn’t mention it and you took a second to glance around the living room.

Not much had changed about it besides the numerous boxes that were either still unpacked or in the process of being put back away. You didn’t want to ask him and when you met his eyes again you could tell he didn’t want to answer.

“Well I’m fine.” His answer finally came and he was biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying not to say something.

He was such a mystery to you that it was genuinely started to get under your skin. He looked at you like you’d done something so terrible to him and you had absolutely no idea what was bothering him so much, especially since he was the one who had left you.

“You’re fine?” Your voice was flat and bitter and he nodded stiffly to which you scoffed and rubbed your face in annoyance. “So you don’t want to talk about it? You don’t think we should?”

“Go talk to Sunghoon if you want someone to talk emotions with.” His gaze was fiery on you and you almost flinched away from it like it really could have burned you.

You stared at him dumbfounded for a few breaths and the air in the living room was so tense you worried the walls would collapse from it. He actually looked slightly regretful after he said it which shocked you but it didn’t really matter since it was already in your head now.

Heeseung was taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair before looking at you one more time.

“I’ll get dressed and we can go.” You didn’t respond to him and your hurt stare was clearly making him uncomfortable. “Is that okay?”

You waited just a few more seconds before you were giving him a curt nod and covering your mouth from the shock of the entire conversation and whatever was happening between the two of you.

He was turning to walk down the hallway to his room but stopping midway and giving you a glance over his shoulder like he was making sure you hadn’t left.

Your shoulders lost all tension the second he was out of sight and you leaned against the wall to help hold you up, proud of yourself for not running out or embarrassingly tearing up again.

It was quiet for a long time and you didn’t even want to begin to imagine what was taking him so long to throw on a simple outfit but you’d begun to wander around the house while you waited, ending up in the kitchen.

“Oh y/n.”

The soft voice calling out for you had your head turning swiftly and your eyes widened when you saw his mom standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Ms Lee.” You sounded astonished and you hoped she wasn’t too offended by the fact you were standing in her house with your sandals still covered in sand. “I didn’t know you were home. I’m sorry to barge in.”

“Always such a sweet girl.” She waved her hands at you like you were ridiculous for apologizing for such a small thing and your heart warmed when she crossed the room to hold your face gently. “You’re friends with my son again? I’ll take that as a good sign.”

You smiled lightly and just nodded at her, not having the nerve to tell her you weren’t exactly friends and he definitely wasn’t doing as well as the hope in her voice led you to believe she thought he was.

“You were always so good for him. He worried so much about you never forgiving him for leaving but you must understand it wasn’t his fault.” Her hands were warm on your face and you felt a lot of guilt as she spoke.

You weren’t exactly sure you were supposed to be hearing this so you didn’t ask her any questions or pry.

Heeseung must’ve heard his moms voice because he looked flustered by the time he came out of his room, barely pulling his shirt over his head as he crossed into the kitchen and looked between the two of you.

“Ma, what are you doing back?” His voice sounded overly similar to how it used to as he comfortably addressed her and the difference shocked you.

“Don’t make me sound like such a bother.” She was lightly scolding him before letting go of your face and you immediately missed the warmth of her hands and gaze. “I was just telling y/n how happy I am you two are together again.”

Your eyes widened at the same time his did and your face flushed bright red at the implication that she thought you and Heeseung were dating now, along with how she apparently had thought you’d been dating beforehand too.

“Oh relax you two. I just mean together as in the same space.” She laughed and waved her hands in dismissal again but you definitely didn’t relax. “Where is he taking you?”

It took you a few seconds to realize she was addressing you and your mouth parted in silence, fumbling for an answer since you didn’t actually know where he was planning for the two of you to go.

“It’s a surprise Ma.” His voice was gentle and so was the kiss he laid on the side of her head, her eyes shutting happily as he kissed her teeth and rubbed him on his shoulder. “But we’ve gotta get going.”

She was shooing you away without another word and giving you a heavy glance that you didn’t really understand, following behind Heeseung as he led you out back through the side entrance that came out onto their driveway.

“Oh holy shit. You still have this thing?” You were curling your nose up at the sight of the old beat up pickup truck that his grandpa used to drive you all around in.

You always got the luxury of sitting on one of the other two seats inside since you were the only girl but all the boys had a blast everytime they had to pile into the bed and feel the wind drying them off as you drove home from the beaches and waterfalls.

Heeseung’s grandpa had died when you were about twelve and the truck sat in the driveway for many years until his grandma was giving him the keys for his 16th birthday, a wink and a swift warning before sending him off to pick you all up.

“I still remember you outside my house blaring on the horn.” You were smiling to yourself as you went around the front so you could climb into the passenger side, feeling the rough leather.

He was getting in a second after you and you tried your best to stare as he situated himself and cleared his throat before putting the truck into drive.

Your gaze on him made him glance your way as he was backing out but it barely lasted a blink before he was looking away.

You waited an hour before you were speaking again, spending the entire time with the windows down and the sound of the loud wind filling up whatever silence the old radio left. It was playing some tape his grandpa had left behind and his hands were tapping the steering wheel in time with it.

It felt the most like your old times with him than anything else had so far and you had to remind yourself that things were still different.

You may have taken this drive with him a dozen times but things had changed. His hand wasn’t on your knee drawing shapes and your eyes weren’t bright and filled with love as you laughed and yelled over the music together.

That picture was a lot warmer than what reality was and you glanced over at him again.

The mountains were stretching behind his side profile now that you were farther away from town than you usually went and he looked so relaxed and calm that you almost felt bad for ruining the silence.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going anytime soon?” You were turning your body so your back was against the car door and your legs were curled into the middle seat, a few inches from the side of his thigh.

He didn’t answer you right away and you scoffed in annoyance at his audacity to just ignore you straight to your face like he hadn’t been the one to invite you here. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked away from him in upset but he was pulling onto the side of the road and parking the car before you could get really mad.

You sat there for a few seconds while he gripped the steering wheel and you took the time to glance around the area.

It was a long dirt road with a lot of thick trees and bushy areas, no other cars or parking lots in site. You were beyond confused and if it was anyone else with you then you’d even feel a little scared but despite Heeseung feeling like a stranger, he wasn’t one.

“Are you okay with walking a bit?” His voice was low when he finally spoke and you noticed he sounded similar to how he did while talking to his mom earlier, your heart tugging at how casual he was being towards you after weeks of hearing him sound so angry and empty.

“Y-yeah.” Your eyes widened at the sudden question and you felt embarrassed for stuttering even though he didn’t seem to care considering he was nodding and getting out of the truck. “Not a problem.” You mumbled to yourself before following him.

He was disappearing into the tree line and you would have been more confused if you didn’t see the faintest evidence of an old trail that had clearly been overgrown.

Heeseung was confident in his steps and every turn he took seemed like it was practiced so you quickly gathered that he knew exactly where he was and you wondered when he would have come out here enough to be this knowledgeable about it.

You were together pretty much all the time as kids and as far as you knew he hadn’t gone anywhere since coming back to town so his mystery was just growing even more to you.

You’d been walking for about twenty minutes with just the sounds of snapping sticks and the wind rustling the trees before it was opening up to reveal a small waterfall and a pond amongst the trees.

The bank was completely made up of rocks and fallen tree logs, something completely different than the sandy shores you were used to. You could tell right away this wasn’t a place for swimming but you just kept following him as he hopped onto the large boulders before eventually sitting on one.

You watched the side of his face as you waited for him to explain and he just watched the view with a slightly pained expression.

“Can you… can you not look at me.” His first words hit you hard and you flinched at the rough tone he’d taken on again. “Please it just will make this easier.”

Although confused, you nodded and opted for instead staring at the way your feet were dangling over the open water. Your thighs were burning from the rough edge of the boulder and the height you were sat at was slightly intimidating but you willed yourself to not look at him no matter how much you wanted to.

“I came here the day that I left. Stole the truck and ran out of the house even though my mom was practically tripping over herself in the driveway trying to get me to stop. I think she thought if I went I wouldn’t come back.” He took a break for you to process what he was telling you and the last sentence hit you hard.

You knew he loved his mom and hearing about her fear and what actually went down the day they moved away was almost too much and you considered asking him to stop talking.

Instead you clenched your hand onto the cold boulders surface and waited for him to keep going.

“It was a world of things that don’t matter anymore, never fucking matter but I need you to understand how much I regret it.” You could feel him looking at you now.

“I should have said goodbye to you and I should’ve answered your letters but I knew I’d come back the second I heard a single word from you and I couldn’t leave her alone. She needed me and I figured you’d be okay with the others. You’d hate me but you’d be okay.”

His voice was getting shakier and you couldn’t resist looking at him anymore although he didn’t look upset that you had done so, his hand stretching the distance between you so he could grip your hand that was practically clawing at the stone.

You squeezed his warm hand tight in yours as you sniffled and the tears built up quickly when you saw how nervous he looked.

“And I’m so fucking sorry for what I did to you at Sunghoon’s.” He grit his teeth as he said it like it pained him to remember and your stomach turned uncomfortably, almost feeling sick at the memory of how shut off he had been now. Especially comparing it to the way he was looking at you now. “I was angry at myself and took it out on you. It was fucking disgusting.”

A sob hit you at that and you don’t know if him scooting closer made you feel better or worse but you leaned into him anyways and felt your heart calm at the way he wrapped his arms around you.

“Y/n I don’t regret it okay? Just the way that it happened but you know… I-I hope you know that I’ve always-“ He sighed and stopped talking like he couldn’t find the words and you wiped your face quickly.

You leaned away from him just enough to get a good look at his face and he looked panicked like he didn’t know how you were going to respond.

“You’re not high right now right?”

His face fell in hurt at your question before it was turning into understanding and guilty, the shake of his head not doing nearly enough to lessen your worries which he quickly seemed to notice because he was leaning closer and making sure you could see him when he spoke.

“I’m not high I promise you. I haven’t been since that night on the beach.” He sounded genuine and you would have believed him before but you didn’t know him now and he easily could’ve been lying to you. “How can I help you know that?”

The desperation in his question and expression made him look so much younger and another sob hit you as you started to see him for who he was.

Not some corpse like imposter who had moved back to town and taken the identity of your old friend and lover but just a lost and confused Heeseung who had clearly gone through something you didn’t understand yet.

So when you kissed him it wasn’t for any other reason this time, it wasn’t because you just wanted to feel that he was actually there or because you thought there was no other way to be close to him again but it was because you wanted him to know that you believed him and you were patient.

You’d been patient and you’d continue to be because Sunghoon had been right when he said you always loved Heeseung and you’d constantly choose him.

Something in you told you that this time he’d do his best to choose you too, his hands holding your face so gently and his thumbs swiping soothingly over your cheeks to rid you of the constant stream of tears despite his own wetting his face too.

You weren’t even really sure what you were crying for.

If it was for the pain he’d put you through or the pain he was dealing with himself. Maybe it was because of the lost time and the years you could’ve spent together or the relief at not having to experience his absence again, something beautiful in the way you were holding each other and sharing the grief of what could have been.

You could only hope that what will be would be worth every tear in the end.

[glassrowboat]

Lights! Camera! Headcanons! Reca.

SFW collection of silly HCs!

- Little Miss Frog is only ever oiled by Reca. He doesn't trust anyone else to be as thorough with her joints as he is.

- Reca has multiple hats for his favorite assistant director, it's just the one we see her wearing all the time is her favorite

- If for some reason you ever needed to switch shoes with Reca, he would gladly do so. After all, what kind of love interest would he be if he couldn't even do that much? The only problem is that he looks better in your heels than you ever have.

- He has a pair of shades with a print of old TV static on the lenses. They are not practical at all but he still uses them.

- This man does not know the meaning of the word subtlety

- You're getting atrocious petnames 24/7, to the point you even begin to think he's forgotten your actual name. It's always love muffin this, honey bear that- and if you ever jokingly refer to yourself as one of them it might as well become a part of Reca’s daily vocabulary.

- He has had multiple people in the past pointing a remote at him to see if they could pause the YouTube play button in his eyes. Now, whenever he sees someone holding one close to him, Reca just snatches it because he's that fed up.

- The button can change, but he's never telling you how it works.

- “The mystery only compels you further to my character, sweetie pie.”

- Please do not trust this man with cooking. He's more of an order in kind of guy and trust that that's preferable over letting him near a stove, oven, or even a microwave on some days. However, he will set the table and clean the dishes for you- it just might take a while because he's busy editing a script.

- Has picked up tons of little facts over the years from all the research he's put behind films. You could ask the most random questions and he'll undoubtedly have an answer- even if it concerns you how he knows how to dispose of a full body.

- On that note, Reca knows a good handful of the meanings behind names, so when someone introduces themselves to him, he usually ends up deciding if that “meaning” fits their character.

- Usually, it doesn't.

- Aka: Crew members

- It's easier that way.

- Those who are a regular part of his filming crew all carry earplugs with them now as a habit after having to listen to Reca's …excited shouting.

- He disapproves of relationships amongst the cast. There's always going to be issues working with people, but he doesn't need the entire film getting pushed aside because one couple had a fight! It’s utterly nonsensical to bring that onto his set. Save that for after everything has wrapped up.

- Anyone listen to Distractible and Markiplier’s entire stunt with lenses? Reca's worse. That's your only warning.

- After your first kiss, when Reca was walking back home, all self accomplished, he jumped up and cracked his feet together- completely unironically. He's not even ashamed about it, either.

- If Reca didn't start on Broadway as part of the crew, then he at least had some experience with it. (He was the theater kid in school). He knows a good couple of songs off the top of his head at this point, and when this one particular song comes on, he always has to stop himself from dancing.

- Owns a gramophone, but it only works half the time. Reca claims it's part of its charm….

- You've watched him mix redbull and coffee together only to drink it all down in a single sitting, then walk away without an explanation. That entire night he was yapping in your ear excitedly only to fall asleep on top of you as soon as it hit 4am.

- Reca tends to repeat the stories he's told you. He just loves them so much that he gets a little ahead of himself and forgets which ones he's shared, that's all. Plus, with his flair for the dramatic and tendency to add in a new line or two, it keeps things fresh.

- Reca affectionately pinches your nose using that baby voice of his. It’s supposed to be an affectionate gesture, in his own way, but it just comes across as annoying.

- Reca will pick you up and spin you around (just like the movies) but at the same time this man will happily let himself flop into your lap with a hand to his forehead so he can lament to you about his woes. Usually, this just means he wants attention.

- He gets busy with filming a lot, to the point you both can go up to a month without really getting anything more in than a one minute call. Usually, Reca is running around during these, or he's so close to passing out after a long day that you're left with the sound of him snoring on the other end of the line.

- Because he's famous, there are actually a good couple of edits and images of Reca made into memes you see when scrolling online.

- His handwriting is comically large. To the point it takes up so much space, Reca might as well be writing a signature instead of scrawling down notes to ensure he doesn't forget a fantastic idea.

- He writes his 7's with that little line crossing it.

- Reca is the type to grab your shoulder while he's laughing. And he does this whether you know him well or not.

[corroded-hellfire]

I am humbly requesting Eddie wearing a shirt that says “nerds make the best lovers” and then proving it to bookworm!Reader.

Your request is my command. I hope I have done your idea justice!

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral f!receiving, slight choking, soft dom!eddie, public sex (kinda?)

Words: 2.2k

Eddie struts into your first period English class with Ms. O’Donell, late as usual, and she doesn’t even glance away from the chalkboard she’s scribbling vocabulary words on to acknowledge his tardiness. On instinct, you smile at your boyfriend as he makes his way to his seat near you, but as your eyes scan over his shirt, heat blooms in your cheeks.

“Nerds Make the Best Lovers” his t-shirt claims in bold, gothic-style red lettering on the black tee. Eddie gives you a brazen wink and by the sound of all the snickering coming from students around you, you know other people have read the clothing’s pronouncement as well. Mortified, you bury your face in your hands, only peeking out to see if O’Donnell caught a glimpse of her least favorite student’s shirt. Luckily, O’Donnell gave up reading whatever shit his t-shirts said after her twentieth time or so sending Eddie to the front office for dress code violations. 

Eddie plops down in the seat next to yours and he shoots you another wink as if you hadn’t seen the first one he gave you when he walked in. Refusing to encourage any of this behavior, you don’t look your boyfriend’s way once the entirety of the class.

Once the period ends, however, Eddie won’t let you get away from him that easily. He jogs down the hallway to catch up with you and drapes a heavy arm over your shoulders.

“Where’s the fire, baby?” he asks. “Where ya headed in such a hurry?”

You shake your head in non-response and keep walking down the hallway, not sparing him a glance. Eventually, you come to a section of hallway that’s mostly emptied of people and you turn to face him, your shoes squeaking against the white linoleum floor beneath you at the tenacity of your spin.

“What is with that shirt, Eddie? Are you trying to embarrass me?”

“Embarrass you?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows. “Baby, I’m just stating a fact. Nerds do make the best lovers. And I’m more than happy to give you a reminder…”

He trails a finger up your arm, and it sends a thrilling shiver down your spine. Any irritation or annoyance instantly melts away at his touch. Your resistance was already futile but Eddie putting his hands on you always seems to shut off any coherent part of your brain.

“A reminder, huh?” you coo, ensnared by his flirtations. 

“That’s right. I’ll show just how good this nerd can make you feel.” 

You decide to hell with it; there’s nothing particularly important going on today. Nothing that you couldn’t afford to miss, anyway. And even if there was? Eddie’s body pressed up against yours is worth a detention or a missed test.

“Should we head out to your van for this demonstration?” you ask. The number of times his old, beat down van has been out in the school parking lot, rocking back and forth from the two of you, is too high to count. Most of the times being while school is still in session.

“No, I’ve got somewhere better in mind.” Eddie tugs you by the wrist, leading you down the hall in the opposite direction. He comes to a halt in front of a familiar door and pulls you into the drama room. It’s abandoned and quiet as Eddie locks the door behind you. There’s some D&D paraphernalia scattered around the room, a few D20s that were left out on the table.

“Hmm, so the ultimate symbolism of your nerdiness, huh?” You tease as you sit yourself down on his throne at the head of the table. The seat is cold beneath you, but you refuse to let it show. 

Eddie stalks over to stand before you and rests a hand on either arm rest of the throne. He lowers his head to meet your gaze with his own challenging one.

“I suppose you think I’m going to kick you out,” he says, referring to the seat. “Not today, my lady. Today…” he lowers himself down to his knees. “Today you just sit back and enjoy my throne while I make you feel good.”

He makes quick work of yanking your jeans and panties off and tosses them somewhere behind him. A strong hand grips each of your calves and spreads your legs wide open, Eddie wasting no time before he’s licking a stripe up your folds.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, fingers digging into the sturdy arm rests at your sides. 

Eddie smirks against your pussy as he begins to flick his tongue against your clit. He knows every one of your little tells and knows just the right speeds and pressures to apply to your bundle of nerves to get you just where he wants you to go.

Your fingers scramble to find purchase on the chair as pleasure floods your body, so Eddie laces one of his hands with yours to ground you. His mouth keeps working against your pussy and you do your best not to grind your hips up to meet his tongue. It’s so tempting but you know it will only draw out Eddie’s teasing in the long run. 

With his free hand, Eddie delicately trails one ringed finger around your entrance, going round and round, never breaching it though. The delicious whines spilling from your lips only encourage him on.

“Shit, you taste so good, baby. God, I love your pussy,” he murmurs from between your legs.

“Eddie,” you whimper desperately, eager for him to use his fingers already. Being a nerd might not necessarily make him the best lover, but being a guitar player does make for a magical experience when he fingers you.

“Mm?” he hums against your core.

“N-Need your f-fing—holy shit, yes.”

Eddie knew what you needed before you even said it. The two of you work so well together, both mind and body, that you’re like separate pieces of the same machine, headed towards the same goal.

Two thick fingers stretch you out, at your request, as Eddie raises his head slightly to suck on your clit. He curls his fingers up and gently brushes over the spot that he knows makes you see stars. Your own fingers tighten on the arms of the throne and your legs tense around Eddie’s head.

“Shit! Fuck, fuck, I’m coming!”

Eddie smirks against your clit as he helps you ride it out, with both his fingers and mouth. He loves watching you as you come down from your high; all out of breath and dewy from a thin layer of sweat. 

The loss of his fingers as he slips them out of you is quickly made okay as you watch him pop them in his mouth as you try and catch your breath. His cocky facial expressions would annoy you if you weren’t feeling so amazing from his damn mouth.

Once he’s licked you from his fingers, he reaches down and fumbles with the handcuff buckle on his belt.

“Made you feel so good and didn’t even take my cock out yet.”

“Wipe that…smirk off your face.” You try to sound assertive, but it falls flat in your blissed out state.

Eddie chuckles and leans in, wrapping one hand around your throat; not tight enough to restrict air, just enough for you to feel the pressure.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands here, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear. “Pretty sure you’d let me do whatever the hell I want to you right now, won’t you?” Both of you know the answer to that, but when you don’t give a verbal response, Eddie tightens his grip on your throat just slightly. “I said, won’t you?” he growls.

“Y-Yes,” you squeak out.

The sound pleases Eddie, and he smiles deviously as he releases your throat. He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek that’s a stark contrast to how he was just handling you.

“That’s what I thought,” he says, smugness clear in his tone.

He grabs your hands and yanks you up out of the throne. An involuntary yelp passes through your lips as he spins the two of you around and backs you up until your bare thighs bump into the table.

“Shirt off. Bra too,” Eddie orders.

You do as he says, Eddie’s eyes taking you in like the prey that you are to him with every move that you make.

Once you’re completely naked, Eddie presses his index finger right in the middle of your chest and gives just enough force for you to get the hint that he wants you to lie back.

The moment you get your ass on the table, large strong hands grab behind your knees and pull you towards the edge, so your back falls flat against the surface and your legs are able to wrap around your boyfriend’s lithe body. He pushes down his black jeans and boxers enough to line himself up with your entrance. But he doesn’t push in just yet.

“Say my fucking name, sweetheart,” he says as he leans over you.

“E-Eddie.”

“Louder. I want anyone walking by to know who’s in here making you feel so good.”

“Eddie!”

The man’s grip tightens on your legs and his cock just barely slips into you.

“I said louder. Are you going to be a good girl and listen to me or what?”

“Fuck, Eddie!”

He smirks in triumph at the way you scream his name.

“That’s my girl.”

He finally pushes inside of you, agonizingly slowly, his body towering over yours as he thrusts. Each time, he goes a little deeper, his eyes boring right into yours as he moves his hips. 

Your jaw drops open and small gasps escape your lips. You’re not sure what’s hotter: how Eddie’s pounding into you or how he’s staring into your eyes, not once breaking contact. 

Eddie groans as he finally bottoms out.

“Jesus Christ,” he swears. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight.”

No words whatsoever fill your mind as you lose yourself in the feeling of Eddie inside your walls. Your boyfriend notices this as well and another arrogant smirk grows on his lips while he stares down at you.

“Aw, already cock drunk, princess? Not a thought in that pretty little head of yours?”

You want so badly to refute it, but you don’t have the words to do so–only further proving his point.

The cool table feels nice against your back as your skin becomes sticky with sweat. Your hands slide from Eddie’s arms and your fingers grip the edge of the table.

Eddie notices the movement and doesn’t want you holding on to anything that isn’t him, though. His hands slide up your body and he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“Eddie,” you whine.

“Oh, she can speak,” Eddie coos.

“Eddie.”

“What is it, my love?”

“C-Close.”

Eddie holds both of your wrists in one hand while the other one snakes down and presses his thumb against your clit.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie goads. “Be my good girl and cum for me.”

“W-Want you to…with me,” you pant out between labored breaths. 

“Don’t worry,” Eddie says with a wry chuckle. “I’m right there with you.”

Eddie might be a complete menace sometimes, knowing exactly how to drive you crazy, but you know him just as well and know how to bring him to the brink. 

“I-Inside,” you pant. “Need you to cum inside me.”

“Jesus,” Eddie groans, squeezing his eyes closed and clenching his teeth as he tries to hold back.

“Please,” you beg.

“Well,” Eddie huffs with a laugh, “since you asked so nicely. Come on, princess. Let go.”

The twitch of Eddie inside of you and the feeling of him filling you up has you arching your back as sparks fly behind your eyelids and ecstasy radiates up your body.

“Eddie, yes.”

“Louder,” Eddie manages as he fucks his load into you.

“Eddie!”

The blissed out feeling from his orgasm and your shouting of his name puts a big, dopey grin on Eddie’s face.

“Shit, princess,” he says with a chuckle as he buries his head in your neck. You giggle as he presses kisses and nips at the skin there.

Eddie doesn’t make a move to get off of you, which you don’t mind one bit. You tangle your fingers in his frizzy locks and press kisses to the side of his head.

“So?” he eventually mumbles against your skin.

“So what?”

Eddie picks his head up and looks at you.

“Do nerds make the best lovers or what?” he asks, eyebrows waggling.

You can’t help but laugh as you nod your head in affirmation.

“Yes, Eddie. You have proven it to me.”

“Mmm, good,” he hums before he goes back to kissing your neck.

“What’re you doing?” you ask as the kisses become more and more intense.

He pulls back to look at you again.

“You really think the best lover is only going for one round?” He scoffs and goes back to kissing your neck.

“Thank God for nerds,” you mumble as your eyes slip closed.

[thehistoriccemetery]

BG3: Reader is Kidnapped/Tortured

This one started as a Shadowheart oneshot, but I decided to expand it to include Lae’zel, Karlach, and Minthara as well.

Let me know your favorites! I’m looking to expand more of my stuff into one shots, so it’s good information to have!

Content Warning for torture (obviously)

Shadowheart

When the days adventuring party returns without you, her blood immediately runs cold. They didn’t just come back without and leave you out there right?

When they inform her that you’ve been taken by the cloister, her face goes pale.

It takes Karlach and Wyll on either side of her to get her eased down onto a bedroll and breathing regularly. You were gone.

And to make matters worse, Viconia DeVir had you in her grip. Even with her amnesia, she could recall just how cruel the woman was.

The party had made great strides in passively finding clues about the location of the House of Grief, but they were still yet to find it.

Finding it had now jumped from a passive priority to the single most important thing they could be doing.

Shadowheart spent most of that night weeping in frustration at her inability to remember. She had grown up there for gods sake. The past 40 years at least had been spent in that damned house.

In the end, it was actually Astarion who finally discovered the sanctuary’s location. It was decided that he and Shadowheart would be the two best suited to sneak in and retrieve you.

When they found you, you were lying on the house’s marble floor, chained up to rigs that came out of the ground. The chain around your neck only barely allowed you to sit up to look at your rescuers.

“Shadowheart? Shadowheart is that you?” You whispered into the dark room. You could only see two silhouettes, but the quaffed elven hair of Asterion and the pointy crown of Shadowheart gave it away.

You instinctively tried to rush towards her, only to be stopped by the strain of your restraints. It didn’t much matter though, because Shadowheart was at your side in a matter of seconds.

She stroke your cheek, paying special attention to cut that stretched across your face. She was quick to move around to other parts of your body, stopping to carefully examine each of your wounds. Your restraints left you unable to reach out to her in anyway.

“Shadowheart, please, you have to get out of here, now,” you nearly cry. “They’re looking for you.” Astarion joins the two of you on the ground, getting to work at picking the several locks that held you in place.

It takes her a moment to register what you were saying. Her first thought is an obvious refusal, she’s not going anywhere without you.

But then the implications of your words dawn on her. They took you because they couldn’t find her. All of this torture you’ve endured, you’ve done it to protect her.

“Please Shadowheart,” you beg. “I swear I didn’t tell them anything. You’ll be safe at camp, just please go.”

Her head spins with newly uncovered memories of the torture she inflicted before the Nautaloid. She remembers how the Sharrans go about getting information from people.

“Astarion, how are coming along on those locks?” she ignores your pleas in favor of getting you free. Your upper body is now free, but he seems to be having trouble with your ankles.

“Patience, darling,” he quips, nearly earning him a slap across the face from Shadowheart.

Within the minute the shackles drop from your ankles, leaving you free to stand up on shaking legs. Shadowheart gives you a quick healing spell before asking “do you think you can make it back?”

You nod, following her and Astarion back the way they came in.

You had never been more excited to see camp than you were in that moment. You laid down face first on the plush Elfsong mattress. You hadn’t slept at all the previous night, and being tortured really took it out of you.

Shadowheart sat on the bed next to you. The fact that you laid down on your stomach did not bode well for the condition of your back.

She tugged gently at the hem of your shirt. “Arms up, love,” she cooed. You whined and crossed your arms over your chest. You didn’t want to show her what they had done.

“If you truly will not show me, I will get Jaheira to look after you,” she reasoned. “But, please, let me take care of you.” The second part was more a plea than anything.

Reluctantly, you lifted your arms and allowed her to pull the shirt over your head.

She did her best to remain stoic. She had seen endless wounds like this. She had inflicted endless wounds like this. But against her will, a sob choked its way up her throat.

The same back she had spent so many nights tracing and trailing with kisses was now so raw and bloodied, she wondered for a moment if you had any skin left.

She used every last bit of energy healing the wounds. By the time she was done she had exhausted herself too much to even make it back to her own bed.

She spent the night curled up around your legs, resting her head on your lower back. Viconia was going pay for what she’d done, she’d make sure of it.

Lae’zel

Lae’zel isn’t the usually the tactical planning type, but when you’re captured by Vlaakith’s army, she realizes this isn’t a kick-down-the-front-door type of mission.

This does not, however, make her any more patient during the planning process. The githyanki could have you floating halfway through astral plane by now.

Luckily, the gith as a whole aren’t known for their subtleties, so you’re not hard to track down.

Protection is thankfully slim enough that the party can pretty much strong arm their way to you.

When Lae’zel finds you are bound by some magical device that was, as loathe as she was to admit it, beyond her level of expertise.

You were at least conscious, which was truly remarkable given your condition. All your clothes were torn and bloodied, but the most concerning and blatant wound came for the side of your head.

Almost the entire left side of your face was completely covered in dried blood, all leading back to the gash on the side of your head that was once your left ear.

Lae’zel cursed, pointlessly kicking the arcane barrier.

You could see her shouting at Gale. Presumably she was impatiently rambling about freeing you, but you couldn’t make out what she was saying through the barrier.

All you saw was a long dagger that she pulled from her belt before storming off in the direction of your now dead captors.

Lae’zel was still gone when the party finally figured out how lower the barrier around you.

You stumbled out onto your knees and immediately found yourself surrounded by the party’s healers.

Lae’zel came stomping back moments later, carrying a small wooden bucket she didn’t have before. Likely she just found it somewhere around the gith camp.

She dropped the bucket at your feet without a word, leaving you to examine the contents for yourself.

You looked down into the bucket to find a dozen or so fleshy green ears.

You look back up at her, not sure whether to be honored or disgusted.

The smug look on her face let you know that this was certainly a gift she was proud of, so honored it is.

“Thank you. It’s nice to have plenty of choices when it comes to choosing my replacement.”

Karlach

Karlach really does try to be tactical most of the time, but you’ve been taken by none other than Lord Gortash himself.

And the idea that you are gone and she is here, at camp, while the others make a plan of how to rescue you? She can hardly contain herself.

She paces around camp, leaving a thick line of charred wood beneath her as she walks the same path over and over again.

Chewing her nails isn’t usually a nervous habit of hers but at this point she’s liable to chew her fingers off.

She logically knows it would do no good to come out guns blazing when you’re probably locked up behind the entirety of the steel watch, but worry and adrenaline nearly get ahead of her.

It is Shadowheart and Halsin who finally pull her from her thoughts. They have a plan, and much to Karlach’s relief it involves her. She was terrified they might agree upon a stealthier approach and ask her to stay behind.

She would have done it, if it were truly what was best for you. She might have burned up the entirety of the Elfsong Tavern by the time you finally got back though.

Luckily, since Karlach was mistaken by the steel watch as a defective watcher, she was actually best equipped to break in.

The plan, in whole, ran pretty smoothly. At least until the moment Karlach actually set eyes on you, bruised up and unconscious in the middle of a cell.

All bets were off after that. There was one thing that mattered and it was having you, safe with her again.

The minute it took Astarion to pick the lock was the longest of her entire life. She was nearly burning hot enough to melt through the bars herself.

The moment the door popped open, she was beside you, on her knees pulling you into her chest.

Shadowheart whisper-shouted behind her, reminding her to watch your neck and be gentle with your head. She carefully situated her large hand to cradle your head.

She rocked back and forth, trying to soothe her own panicked heart. “Hey bub, it’s me. I came to rescue you. I… please wake up. I’m here now. You’re safe.”

When you didn’t ever stir, Karlach looked up at Halsin and Shadowheart, eyes brimming with tears and worry. “They aren’t waking up. Why aren’t they waking up?”

Halsin joined Karlach on the ground, leaning to put his head on your chest. “Their heart continues to beat and their lungs draw breath, but they are weak. We must get them to camp.”

There was an incredibly brief argument about who was best fit to carry you, given that your skin was already starting to redden from Karlach’s heat, but her bottom lip quivered at even the mention of you leaving her arms.

When they managed to get you back to the Elfsong, Karlach was reluctantly convinced to lay you down on your bed.

She winced when she saw the small burns starting to form on the side of your body she had held to her own. Your left cheek was already starting to blister. Maybe she should’ve let Halsin carry you after all.

The healers came by to try and figure what had happened to you. You had no visible injuries, aside from the minor burns, yet you were still unable to be stirred.

It was actually Minthara who suggested they may have inflicted mental torture rather than physical, similar to what was inflicted on her at Moonrise.

The idea made Karlach burst into uncontrolled sobs. “You think they may have been erased?!”

Minthara looked sympathetically down at Karlach, but didn’t have an answer for her.

The party collectively decided that the only thing they could do is wait and let you rest.

Afraid to burn you with the fire that courses through her veins, Karlach restrained herself from crawling into bed with you. Instead she knelt next to the bed, resting her head on the mattress and reaching up to stroke your body.

She couldn’t sleep at all that night, only stroke your burned cheek and cry softly into your mattress.

She started to talk to you, talking about all the things she’s like to do with you when all of this was over.

“Maybe we’ll get a little place in Lower City, next to the water so we can watch the sunsets with all the boats ‘n stuff floating out in the distance. Oh! And we can go on little picnics in Bloomridge Park, and feed our leftovers to all the stray cats and dogs. Oh who am I kidding we’re taking all of them home with us. We’re gonna have a whole farmhouse if you can’t stop me.”

When you finally do wake up, Karlach wraps her arms around in a hug so tight you nearly suffocate. She eventually settles to sit in your lap while you gently stroke her hair.

Gortash better start counting because his days are dangerously numbered.

Minthara

The moment Minthara finds out you’ve been taken by Orin, her heart nearly stops beating.

One moment it was you, the love of her life, standing before her. Then, through the breaking of necks and cracking of bones, she finds herself face to face with one of her few fears. Orin the Red.

How could she fall for this again? Her head spins with the thought of all the things Orin may be doing to you. She knows you could hold your own, but Orin had a way of breaking the unbreakable.

Sometimes, with how loyally she followed you, it was easy to forget that Minthara was used to being the one in charge. A lot had changed since you met her as the Nightwarden.

But it all comes back quickly as she barks out orders to the now leaderless party. They were marching on the Temple of Bhaal, now. Minthara was prepared to take on the god of murder himself if it meant saving you.

As tempting as it was to charge straight into the temple, it left you all with little hope of survival. She decided the party’s presence near the temple would be enough to lure Orin out, leaving her an open opportunity to slip in.

Orin’s tactless blood thirst made the plan go over all too well. She couldn’t resist the smell of fresh unspilled blood at her doorstep.

By the time Minthara got to you, you were weak but still painfully conscious. You were hanging over an alter like a sacrifice by meat hooks that cleaved into your skin.

You had been tortured in true Bhaalist fashion. While your body displayed clear evidence of the slicing and cleaving, your mind was even more clouded by the things you had been forced to do and endure. It made you even more sympathetic to Minthara’s past.

Minthara climbed onto the unholy alter and began to remove you from the cruel hooks. She ignored your weak protestations, refusing to even look you in the eyes.

She resisted any urge to comfort you, pushing all the softness from her mind until the mission was complete and you were safe. She did not speak, fearing she may distract herself for the task at hand.

She only allowed for a brief moment when she picked you up and felt your throw your arms around her neck. You curled into her stomach with a choked sob and cried “I’m so sorry.”

“I know you better than to think you are foolish. Orin is cunning, persistent, and full of deceit. I do not fault you for what has happened.”

Escaping the temple was easier than getting in. She wordlessly worked her way back to the Elfsong with the ease of someone who wasn’t carrying a bloodied body.

She did what she could to heal you herself, given that none of the others had returned yet. A mildly concerning tidbit that seemed not to faze Minthara in the slightest.

It wasn’t until she was positive you would be okay that she allowed herself to soften, running her hands through your blood crusted hair and gently cleaning you with a dampened rag.

She paid little mind to the rest of the party, who returned looking a little worse for wear. She was disappointed but not surprised to hear that they had failed to kill Orin.

She recruited Jaheira to assist in your healing. She trusted her more than Shadowheart. She never let go of your hand, even when you squeezed so hard you thought you may have broken her fingers as Jaheira patched wounds with a variety of burning liquids.

She laid next to you on the bed, resting her head gently against your stomach and allowing you to stroke her head. She wasn’t bothered by the filth and blood that covers nearly every inch of you.

“We will make her pay for what she’s done to you. What she’s done to us. We will match every scar she’s inflicted tenfold until not even Bhaal with recognizes his own blood,” she swears, placing a gentle kiss on your stomach.

[kaitlynpcallmebeepme]

Sea Sickness

Sea Sickness

Luke Hughes x fem!reader (established relationship, but still new)

Idea: Reader gets nauseous from being on the boat at the Hughes’s Lake House and snuggles up to Luke.

Requested: Nope. 

Author’s Note:  I know I’m bouncing around who I’m writing for, but I’m on a NHL spree right now. I also get nauseated if I'm on a boat or in the ocean for too long. Fun Fact: I wrote the beginning part of this on a note card while working by myself in the OR today. We had a really long case where I just had to check up on people during the middle of it (hence why I wrote this on a card because I don’t like going on my phone when I’m in the OR. It's unprofessional). I don’t know any of these people personally. The closest I’ve gotten to the team (that wasn’t just playing in the band at the games or when they were walking past us down the 2023 red carpet in tampa) was a tuba was talking to some of them in his plane row on the ride back from that trip (he ended up being the tuba you see in the senior picture from 2024) and one of the coaches had to share our bus on the way back from the 2023 frozen four game with his wife and two young daughters (I kept trying to get the younger one to smile at me unsuccessfully).  Someone from my hotel room also shared the elevator ride up with the entire Fantilli family the night they lost that game in 2023 (I think Adam also won the Hobey Baker award that same night). I’ve also been playing my lego lord of the rings game. Anyway, enjoy this little blurb.

Tagging some of my favorite Hughes/NHL writers, love y’all.

@wineauntie @thedevilrisen @winterbarnesblog @sc0tters 

I forgot to mention that this is kinda based on the cute stuff @bedsyandco writes

I'm now sad when I'm uploading this because a friend from college drumline has an incurable brain cancer. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers (he's only 19 or 20).

Requests are still open.  Feedback is always appreciated.  Also, tell me if you want to be part of a Tag List and I’ll tag you when I upload something new. If you want to only be tagged when I upload something for a certain character or shows, let me know as well.  

Warning: None, just general fluff. Feeling sick on a boat. 

Word Count: 488

Being on a boat wasn’t your most favorite thing in the world, mainly because the last time you were on a boat, it got stuck in the middle of the laek and had to be towed back to shore (true story), but when your boyfriend Luke invited you to spend the weekend at the lakehouse with ihs brothers and friends, you weren't going to say no. The weekend had been filled with lots of eating, playing outside, and the boys being competitive at every game they pick up (even the old board game you brought to teach them how to play).  Just trying to keep up with them all was exhausting, so that’s how you ended up on the back of the boat enjoying the warm air instead of diving into the water again.  The boys had been going back and forth between wakeboarding and chatting on the boat deck. With them supplying the lake with plenty of waves, the constand up and down was starting to make your stomach sick.  You scooched over and made yourself comfortable laying your head on Luke’s shoulder.  He then opened his arms and wrapped you in his warm embrace so you could crawl on his lap and snuggle closer to his chest. 

“You feeling ok?” 

“Yeah, just want to stop the constant movement.” It was getting to a point were you just wanted to stop the constant movement.  It being really hot out didn’t help either. 

“We’ll head to shore soon. Then we can cool off inside.” 

Being wrapped up in Luke’s embrace with his fingers gently carding through your hair or down your shoulder leaving goosebumps in their wake and shading you with his fit body definitely helped keep your mind off of your stomach and the boat’s ever shifting movements.  Luke wasn’t much of a pda person, but you always encouraged him to show little bits of it at least in front of his family or close friends.  

Little did you know, that’s exactly who was eyeing the interaction.  Jack, Quinn, Trevor, Cole, and Dylan all had stopped what they were talking about in favor of watching the interaction between you two.  Eventhough they were not all related, they felt like proud older brothers seeing Luke be so considerate and affectionate in front of them.  Of couse they’re all going to tease him relentlessly later about this, but they were gentlemen in regards to respecting the timing and the moment.

“Just lay down and close your eyes. We’ll be on shore soon.”  You snuggled deeper into Luke’s neck keeping your eyes closed and focused on his soft skin, his natural scent, and the way his warm body curled around yours. He even tugged on your legs to pull you fully into his lap as his large frame wrapped around your body fully encasing you in his warmth and comfort. 

Nothing better than enjoying the summer with those you love.

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Part 2)

Agatha takes you out to dinner.

Word count: 2500

Warnings: none (I think)

A/N: this ended up being way longer than I was planning, so hope you all enjoy. Happy Agatha night to all who celebrate!

Taglist: @stayevildarling @i-just-cannot @hazey-g @buttercandy16 @320viada

“You’re home early,” your mom says when you walk through the front door. You check your watch and shrug. 4:15. Granted, if you had come from school, you wouldn’t be back right now. 

After your encounter with Agatha, you had quickly scooped up the broken glass, tracked down Wanda, and then driven her back to school to drop her off. She had asked if you were coming, but you were buzzing with the thought of dinner with your step-mother that night so you knew there was no way you could’ve focused. And there was no point going to seventh period anyway. It was history – your least favorite subject. 

So Wanda went back to class and you went shopping. You didn’t know where Agatha and you were going for dinner, didn’t know the dress code, but you knew how the older woman dressed and you weren’t going to look homeless next to her. 

At the mall, you were able to find a tight black dress that accentuates your curves nicely. The neckline was bordering on inappropriate and the hem came down to your mid-thigh, but it was cheap and it made you look good. You had hidden the bag inside your backpack to avoid your mom asking questions. 

“I have some homework to do and then Wanda and I are getting dinner,” you tell her. Your mom is a bit touchy with the subject of your father and Agatha, so you know better than to tell the truth. 

“Sounds good, hon,” she says, turning back to her computer. “Did you have a good day?” 

You hum noncommittally and then go upstairs. The first thing you do is take a shower to wash the chlorine from the swim you and Wanda took earlier and then you curl your hair. You’re not sure why you’re putting so much effort in to look nice for dinner with Agatha. You tell yourself that it’s just because she always looks like she’s just stepped off the cover of Vanity Fair and you don’t want to appear underdressed compared to her, but a small part of you knows you want to look good for her. You shake your head to get rid of the thought. 

You apply some light makeup on your face and then slip into the dress you had bought. You dig through your closet and find some short heels that pair nicely. Fuck, you hope Agatha is taking you someplace fancy and not just a chain restaurant. 

Your phone buzzes and you look at it. It’s a text from an unknown number: I’ll be there in 20. 

Who is this? You type back, figuring it’s Agatha but just wanting to make sure. You find it amusing that you haven’t saved her number. You get an eye roll emoji in response and you smile. 

20 minutes to spare. You hate to admit it, but you spend most of that time pacing back and forth in your room, wringing your hands nervously. You’re not sure why nerves are twisting in your stomach. Maybe it’s just because you’ve never spent any one-on-one time with your step-mother before. Maybe it’s the way she was looking at you when she was cleaning up your leg earlier, or the way she squeezed your thighs when you were sitting on the counter. 

No, definitely not the latter. 

You finally give up on trying to calm down. You throw a hoodie over your dress so your mom doesn’t see it and walk downstairs. She hardly glances at you from her spot at the kitchen table. 

“What time will you be back?” she asks. 

“Maybe by 8?” you guess. Once again, you have no idea what you’re getting into with Agatha. 

“Where are you guys going?” 

Can’t answer that either. “When she picks me up, we’re going to figure that out.” 

“Well, have fun and don’t stay out too late.” 

“I won’t,” you promise, walking over to give her a kiss on the cheek. She’s been looking older every day. The divorce was really hard on her so she’s been burying herself in work for the past two years and it’s finally catching up. “Make sure you eat something.” You get a text. I’m out front, from a still unknown number. You smirk to yourself. “I’ll see you later, mom.” She pats your arm and you walk outside. 

A black range rover is parked to the right of your house, out of sight from the windows. You open the passenger seat and get inside, tearing off your hoodie. Thank god you dressed up. She’s wearing a dark burgundy suit that dips low, showing some cleavage. Her long dark hair flows down her back and her gold earrings glint in the sunlight. She looks hot. 

And based on how she’s looking at you, she appreciates your outfit as well. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, breaking the silence. 

“You’ll see,” she says mysteriously, shifting the car into drive. The ride to wherever you’re going is filled with awkward silence. You don’t know if you’re supposed to say something first, but she was the one who dragged you along. 

You purse your lips as the minutes pass. You sneak a glance at Agatha and she looks perfectly content. “So, where’s my dad tonight?” you finally ask, not being able to take it anymore. 

She smirks knowingly. “A work dinner. You know how things are around this time of the year.” Suddenly, you get angry. You don’t know. You haven’t lived under the same roof as him in two years. 

“Oh, sure,” you say, voice caustic. “Back when my parents were still married, he was busy all the time. Glad to hear it’s more of a seasonal thing now.”

She shoots you a look, face soft. “Honey–”

“You know he cheated on my mom, right? What makes you think he won’t do the same to you? Maybe there isn’t a work dinner at all,” you whisper conspiratorially, feeling horrible the moment it comes out of your mouth. The divorce has filled you with a rage that is hard to control and it slips out at the worst possible times. And now you’ve undoubtedly made the rest of the night even more uncomfortable than it already was going to be. “Fuck, Agatha, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” 

She doesn’t even seem phased, just reaches over and pats your leg. “I know how tough this must be for you.” 

You can’t help but roll your eyes. That’s all you’ve heard for the past two years. But you do still feel bad for your uncalled outburst. “That doesn’t make it okay. Plus he’d be a fool to cheat on you,” you mutter under your breath, blushing slightly when she smirks. 

“How does this sound: tonight, I’m not your father’s new wife. I’m just a woman who wants to get to know you a little better. We can eat, talk, have fun. It doesn’t have to be a step-mother-step-daughter bonding thing if you don’t want it to be.” 

“That would be nice,” you begrudgingly admit. She winks and turns into the parking lot of the new Italian steakhouse that has just opened up nearby your house. “Agatha, this is–”

“My treat,” she cuts you off. “Let’s go, sweetheart.” You trail behind her into the restaurant, gaping at how nice it looks. “Hi, reservation for two under Harkness?” It was always wickedly satisfying to you how she didn’t take your dad’s last name. 

The hostess nods and beckons for you both to follow her. She seats you at a table tucked away in the corner and places menus in front of you. 

“Jesus,” you say, flipping through. 

“The first time is always a bit overwhelming,” Agatha says, your cheeks heating up at the double meaning. “How’s your leg doing?”

You had completely forgotten about the cuts. “Oh, it’s feeling better. Thank you, by the way. For cleaning me up and not saying anything–” You remember her rules and you shut your mouth. She chuckles. 

“Of course, sweetheart. Like I said, our little secret.” 

The waitress comes over and takes your drink orders. You order a shirley temple and Agatha gets a glass of red wine. When she comes back with them, you make a point to stare anywhere but Agatha when she licks her lips after she takes a sip. 

“Are you ladies ready to order?” The waitress asks. Agatha recites some dish from memory and you are sure you look like a fish out of water when the waitress turns to you. Agatha stifles a laugh and orders the same thing for you. 

“What did you get me?” You turn back to her once the waitress is out of earshot. 

“The Filet Portabella. Trust me, you’ll love it.” You’ll have to take her word for it. “So, how is senior year going?” 

You launch into the speech that you give every single time someone asks you that, something along the lines of: school is great but it’s stressful with the college search and no, you don’t know where you want to go yet or what you want to major in. It’s one of your least favorite, yet most-often asked questions. 

Agatha hangs onto every word out of your mouth, asking some follow ups. You do have to admit, it is nice to talk to a grown up and actually feel listened to. 

“So, the girl in the pool with you today. Is she your friend, girlfriend..?” Agatha asks once she’s exhausted the school topic. 

“Oh, Wanda? No, we’re just friends. I don’t have a girlfriend. Wait, how did you know I’m gay?” You’re not sure why you’re so flustered. 

“Your dad mentioned it. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t breaking into my house for a little romantic rendezvous.” Her tone is teasing. 

You blush even harder now. You’re 18 years old and you’ve never had anything close to a ‘romantic rendezvous’ with anyone. “Um, no. She’s just my best friend.” And then because you’re having trouble breathing with her staring at you like that, you try to turn the tables. “You never broke into anyone’s pool when you were in high school just to go for a swim?” 

Her eyes glint mischievously. “Never for anything as innocent as just a swim.”

Your mouth runs dry at the image of a younger Agatha (although imagining Agatha right now works too) skinny dipping in a pool with a lover. And then there’s the thought of you and Agatha in her pool. “Oh?” you manage to croak out. 

Agatha leans in closer across the table, voice dropping lower. “My friend and I got caught one time by my neighbor. He was supposed to be out of town another two days but came back early. You should’ve seen his face when he walked out back to find us making out in his pool. My friend was so scared, she ran out and jumped over the fence. And then I had to explain myself all alone.” 

Your breath catches, mouth opening ever so slightly. “She? You – you’re…” Agatha…likes girls?

A wide smirk slowly spreads across her face. “I don’t like labels. But yes, I’ve dated my fair share of women.” 

“Oh. Cool,” you rasp. Thankfully, you’re saved from having to figure out something else to say by the waitress setting two hot plates in front of you. 

“Enjoy!” she says, and leaves you two alone again. 

You pick up your fork and knife, slicing easily into the meat. You hesitantly pop the piece into your mouth and moan instantly. The filet literally melts in your mouth, giving way to possibly the best thing you’ve ever tasted. 

“This is so good,” you mumble while chewing, looking back up at Agatha, who has a strange look on her face. Her eyes are darker than before and you raise an eyebrow. 

She blinks and then takes a bite of her meal. “I’m glad you like it sweetheart,” she says, watching you dig back in. You both eat your food in silence and when the check comes, Agatha doesn’t even look at the bill before slapping down her credit card. 

“Thank you for dinner,” you say. “I had a really nice time.” 

Agatha gives you a real smile. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve really enjoyed tonight as well and I hope we can start spending more time together.” You open your mouth, maybe to protest or maybe to agree, but at that moment, the waitress comes back with her card. 

“You both have a lovely night. And can I just say, you two are a really cute couple.” 

You choke on nothing and you suddenly are doubled over in a coughing fit. Agatha politely thanks the waitress before coming over to you and patting you on the back. Your throat begins to hurt and your vision blurs with tears, but you can’t stop. She presses your drink into your hand and you take a big gulp, wincing at the burn from the carbonation. You take a few more slow sips. 

“You okay?” she asks quietly, now rubbing circles on your back. You cough weakly a few more times before your breathing returns to normal. You stand up, embarrassed. She chuckles as she wipes the tears from your eyes. “You can’t die on me now, sweetheart.” 

You run a hand over your forehead. “I’m okay!” 

“Is the thought of us being a couple really that unappealing?” Agatha murmurs playfully into your ear as she leads you out of the restaurant with a hand around your waist. 

“What? No! I was just startled. You’re my step-mother.” Are you imagining the hint of a frown on her face or is it really there?

She opens the car door for you and then gets in the driver’s seat. “Any plans for the weekend?” 

You had honestly forgotten today was Friday. “Um, I don’t think so. My mom’s working all day tomorrow so I might hang out with Wanda or something. I have homework I should probably do as well.”

She hums. 

“Do you have plans?” you ask. 

She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “Your father and I both have some work we need to do. It’ll be a chill weekend.” 

“That’s good,” you say awkwardly. “I am sorry about what I said earlier. About my dad.” 

She glances at you. “Don’t be. I can only imagine how angry and hurt you are.” 

“I’m not angry with you. You’re actually not that bad.” 

Agatha laughs out loud at that. “Wow, thanks so much, sweetheart.” The pet name, as they have all evening, makes your heart skip a beat. 

“You know what I mean,” you grumble. 

The drive back to your house goes quick and soon enough, she’s parking in the same spot as earlier. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you say again. She smiles softly and leans in. You forget how to breathe but she brushes her lips against your cheek. 

“Good night, honey.” 

You get out of the car in a haze, mind spinning.