#holding your hand and skipping off into the sunset with you

[cowboymcflurry]

Ocean Waves | Eddie Munson x You [Fluff]

Summary: You’ve had a long day. You’re feeling overwhelmed and stressed, so you retreat to your favorite spot by the ocean, where you find Eddie, that weird guy you have Spanish with, strumming his guitar.

word count: 1,5k

includes: Hawkins is now for some reason set by the sea, reader and eddie don’t really know each other yet, fluff, comfort, butterflies, no description of reader, no use of y/n, readers gender is not mentioned but eddie calls reader 'babygirl' at some point

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It was a rough day. Everything was just too much, too irritating, too loud and too worrying and you ended up feeling numb, the only feeling left that of your scalp tingling nastily. You felt lonely, you couldn’t breathe properly and you felt like drowning in your own thoughts and feelings.

So you took your backpack off the floor of your room and shoved in a pack of your favorite snacks and a can of your favorite soda.

It was time for a little trip to your secret hiding spot.

When you got there ,the sun was just about to set. The noise of the ocean calmed your thoughts, the salty air letting you breathe again. Quickly you skipped towards your favorite spot, which was a huge piece of driftwood. With every step you felt lighter and lighter, until you suddenly came to a halt. The unpleasant tingling of your scalp returned, as you realized that your secret hiding spot had been invaded. Some long-haired weirdo sat on what had once probably been a tree trunk, strumming a guitar.

“Shit.” you mumbled. Why did everything have to go wrong today?

I have to somewhere else, you thought, when the guy’s head suddenly jerked up. He brought a hand up to his eyes, shielding them from the intense golden light that came from the sunset, squinting at you. Hey, wasn’t that Eddie Munson? That metalhead from Spanish class? Your eyebrows shot up when you saw him waving at you. Hesitantly you waved back.

Great, now I have to say hi, you thought, cursing yourself for coming here.

“Hey, don’t we have Spanish together?” Eddie asked, when you approached him.

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing out here? Guess I was not the only one who found this spot.” he laughed, taking a sip out of a can that you suspected to be beer.

“Uh, no. I come here sometimes.” you said, your hands firmly holding on to your backpacks straps.

Eddie looked at you, as if he were waiting for more words to come out of your mouth, but since there weren’t, he simply grinned at you, slapping the piece of driftwood he sat on.

“Feel free to join me. The view is amazing.” he said, stretching his arms.

“Oh no, that’s okay. I can go somewhere else.”

Eddie frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean? Wait a minute -” he gasped dramatically, “Could it be that you’re scared of Eddie Munson, the freak?”

You felt the corners of your lips twitching.

“No, it’s not that. I just… Um… I just wanted to be alone for a while.” you said, rubbing your neck. Eddie sat back, observing your face closely.

“Tell you what, you sit here with me for 10 minutes and watch that pretty sunset - then I’m gone and you have this beautiful space to yourself, how about that?”

Hesitantly you nodded. “Okay, sure.”

“So what’s up?” Eddie asked when you sat down beside him. His big brown eyes eyeing you curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“Well I can tell that something is… you know…” he said vaguely, making an explanatory gesture, causing you to chuckle softly.

“I’ve just had a shit day, that’s all.” you said, your eyes shifting back to the crashing golden waves in front of you. Eddie nodded, causing his curls to bop up and down.

“I see.”

For a while you two just sat there, taking in the rustling sound of the sea, the salty air and the comfortable silence around you. The dark orange disc, that was the sun, dropped further and further until it was eventually gone, as if the dark blue surface of the sea had swallowed it. You felt the wind on your face and for some reason you were glad that you weren’t alone, that Eddie sat right beside you. After a couple of more minutes he glanced at his wrist watch.

“Ten minutes are over I guess.” he said softly. As he got up, picking up his guitar, you intervened.

“You don’t have to go, you know?” you said, a bit too eagerly.

“I don’t?”

You shook your head, smiling shyly.

“Alright, then.” he said grinning, plopping back down on the piece of driftwood.

“Why are you here?” you asked after a while.

“Oh you know, I’ve just had a shit day.” he said, winking at you, causing you to chuckle softly. But then his expression changed, looking slightly more serious, as he turned back to look at the ocean.

“I would never openly admit but, sometimes, I feel a little bit… out of place. Lonely. And then I come here. I don’t know what it is about this place, but being alone in a wide open beautiful space like this seems to cure any depression I might have inside of me.” he chuckled.

“I feel the same way.” you said, studying Eddie’s side profile, his curly hair and the curve of his lips. If you were an artist, you would have liked to draw him. He was different than what you thought, but if you were being honest you never made much of an effort of getting to know him. He was one of those guys who - despite being weird and not like the others - seemed to be extremely self-confident and extroverted. And guys like that usually didn’t like hanging out with people like you. People who mostly kept to themselves, to their own weird and tangled mind. Or so you thought.

“Can I tell you something?” Eddie suddenly said, turning back to you. It was getting pretty dark but you could still see his dark eyes that seemed to be so full of childish wonder whilst also carrying a certain melancholy at the same time.

“What?”

“I’ve always wondered about you.” he said, looking from one of your eyes to the other.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

“Well, you’re that quiet kid that doesn’t really talk to any one. At first I thought you were arrogant but then I thought, hey, maybe it’s something else.”

The way he looked at you made your stomach turn. You felt your eyes burning and that awful feeling in your throat that felt like you were choking.

“Hey, it’s okay.” he said, wiping away a tear that had escaped your eye, with his thumb. But you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You felt all of the anxiety, all of the sadness and all those dark thoughts breaking lose.

“Hey, hey, hey it’s alright babygirl, come here.” Eddie whispered, pulling you close, softly wiping away the tears on your cheek. For a while you just let them flow out, muffled sobs breaking the silence around you every now and then. You felt Eddie’s hand softly graze your hair, making your scalp tingle, but this time in the most pleasant way possible.

After you calmed down you quickly turned away, wiping away the remaining tears with your sleeves, as if Eddie hadn’t just witnessed you breaking down, as if he hadn’t comforted you.

“I’m sorry.” you said, sniffling.

“What for?” Eddie laughed, reaching for your hand, giving it a light squeeze. His touch creating a fluttering feeling in your stomach.

“We barely know each other and it’s not fair of me, putting you in this situation.”

Eddie furrowed his brows. “Last time I checked I am responsible for how I react to my surroundings. So if I want to be there for that weird kid from Spanish class that I’ve always kinda liked, then let me.”

Slowly he reached out to your face, wiping away one last tear, before flashing a bright smile at you. For a couple of minutes you just looked at each other and for the first time in a very long time, you felt seen.

“Hey, I know what'll cheer you up.” he suddenly said, picking up his guitar, “I don’t know what kind of music you’re into - even though I hope it’s not that Madonna chick - but I’m sure you’ll like this.”

He started strumming, pulling a dorky face and you immediately recognized the song: ‘Fade to Black’ by Metallica. You felt your lips pulling into a grin as you watched him play, causing him to wink at you. Immediately you pulled out the can of soda you’d brought with you as well as the pack of snacks, opened both and placed them between the too of you. Eddie’s eyes widened, still strumming the guitar, and as he opened is mouth in anticipation you gently threw in a cracker, to which you both laughed out loud.

Maybe this day hadn’t been so bad after all. In the end it led you to this beach where you found Eddie. And Eddie finding you.

[dimonds456]

Hi it's the tooth positivity guy again. I worded this poorly but then the post blew up too much to go back and properly make amends, so here is a new post

If you can't take care of your teeth properly, or just straight-up don't, or whatever, that is also okay! ADHD, sensory shit, poor muscle coordination, allergies, ect. all of that are valid and you are also valid and should not be made fun of for your teeth!

And yes, teeth ARE naturally yellow or grey. The white-thing is, apparently, a very American-centric thing that can actually damage your teeth more, based on what I'm learning in the tags, so yeah, extra fuck that.

Make peace with all teeth. That is all. You all are beautiful, have beautiful smiles, and you should not ever feel ashamed at the prospect of showing joy to others. I love you.

[torchickentacos]

.

[the-melancholic-human]

I am still pissed off that i wrote something super cute about single mom reader and simon, and tumblr didn’t save it in my drafts

But more on the topic of nobleman simon riley with the young cute wife he got himself from the village to calm me down:

Simon never thought of himself as someone who would enjoy the little moments of life, when he looked at a sunset he would simply see that, a sunset, nothing more, but his wife, no no no she’s the polar opposite

When she picks fresh tomatoes from their garden and drops them into her skirt, she’s laughing out loud, her cheeks rosy pink from the summer heat and the pure joy that seems to run in her veins. She holds up the tomatoes to simon, yelling out his name to get his attention, and simon is just sitting on a chair reading a book trying to not think about all the dirt under his wife’s nails and how damp the garden walls smell during the humid summers, but his wife, oh no she’s running around grabbing tomatoes from the bushes, while she hums a melody quietly

“Mr riley!! Look at this one! It’s so red!”

“ ‘s jus’ a tomato, woman, please keep y’voice down”

And when her skirt is full of tomatoes she runs back to simon, dropping all of the red bulbs of freshness right onto his cleaned and steamed pants

“I got you all of these! Aren’t you happy??”

“ y’skirt is absolutely filthy, ‘s it so hard to jus’ act a bit more timid?”

She shakes her head, laughing at his comment, as she grabs one of the tomatoes from simon’s lap and rubs off the dirt on her dress, and takes a bite

“I think you should losen up a bit you know? Take that stick out of where the sun don’t shine”

She laughs at her own joke, simon on the other hand scrunches up his nose at the rude string of words that his so called wife just spat out at him

But you know

Even though he gets angry at his wife for rolling around in mud all day, for jumping up and down on the bed, for scaring the maid ten times a day, for chasing around the ducks and chickens, for swearing every time she drops something

He can’t help how his heart skips a beat when he hears her scream and laugh and shout and swear. And here’s the thing, simon is starting to like the chaos she seems to bring to everything

And before he knows it, he’s standing up from his chair in the garden, holding the girl’s soft hand, as he lets her walk him to the tomato bushes. And he actually kneels in the mud, cautiously grabbing a red tomato and lightly tugging on it, looking at his wife for reassurance,

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

And when she runs her fingers through his hair with those dirty hands, like she’s petting a lost puppy, simon absolutely loses it

And he laughs! Like an idiot who’s in love! He hates himself for it. But, you know, he can keep the anger for another time, right now he’ll just sit there and let his wife tug at his blonde hair while the warm sun shines down on his pale and freckled face. And he breaths, for what feels like the first time in years.

The maid runs out, holding her dress in her fists as she scolds simon

“Sir! Please for the love of god get up! I’ve just washed your clothes!”

“Y’know… i think ‘m good here, and i think… y’need to take tha’ stick out of where the sun don’ shine”

God he looks up at you with a proud look, like he’s done something so bad and he needs your approval for it, and when you nod your head with a smile he just melts.

Just saying, the poor maid does not like your behavior one bit, especially now that it’s rubbing off on simon.

[https-lovvers]

honey honey

lando norris x driver!reader

summary: you, lily, alex and lando all go on a yacht trip through italy and you cannot get this one song out of your head.. so you and lily annoy your boyfriends!!

you and lily stand in the kitchen cutting up a watermelon as your boyfriends are fooling around on the deck of the yacht. the hot sun shining down on the coastal italian waters and you can see lando already tanning.

you smile to yourself when he spots you and waves joyfully.

"well he's a love machine isn't he?" lily nudges you and you giggle.

"it makes me dizzy sometimes you know??" and as soon as the words come out of your mouth you realise! those are lyrics in the abba song honey honey!!!

when you explain it to lily she smiles and shakes her head. "you and that mamma mia movie"

you both giggle and you take a bite of the watermelon.

"should we make a video to the song??"

you didn't need to hear it twice.

"honey honey how he thrills me" you wink into the camera, walking in front of lando

"honey honey nearly kills me" lily faints into alex's arms as he looks at lando with confusion and lando just shrugs.

"i heard about him before.." lily types alex's name into a search browser. "i wanted to know some moreee" she pretends to think and looks at alex.

"and now i know what they mean.. he's a love machineee" you smile into the camera and lando runs up behind you and picks you up, squeezing you tight.

"oh he makes me dizzy!!" you and lily say into the camera at the same time.

you and lily giggle and film a few more lyrics.

"the way that you kiss me goodnightttt" lily giggles as alex kisses all over her face

"the way that you hold me tightttt" you smile as lando hugs you from behind

you and lily giggle into the camera at the same time trying to not laugh, "i feel like i wanna sing when you do your.. thing!!"

as the lyrics fade into just the melody, you guys decide to document your day to the music. clips showing you and lily twirling in your pretty dresses on the front of the yacht, running down the streets of the beautiful town that you'd parked the yacht at, smiling with your boyfriends over lunch.

you smiled, nothing could beat your favourite songs and your favourite people.

as the music fades back in, it's nearly sunset so you and lily make the most of the daylight lipsyncing to the song.

"honey honey touch me baby" you wink at the camera and make a beckoning action and lily laughs from behind the camera.

you and lily force lando and alex to nod along to the "uh huhs" in the song and you and lily pop up for the "honey honey"

"honey honey hold me baby" lily giggles and wraps her arms around herself.

you decide to do the next scene together, "you look like a movie star" and you guys skip around your boyfriends in 2x speed and shrug to the camera as you say, "but i like just who you are."

"and honey to say the least.. you're a doggone beast" you brace yourself for impact as the plan was for lando to throw you over his shoulder.

however instead he pushes you off the yacht and you land in the cool, clear water fully dressed.

you smile and shake your head when you see lando, lily and alex all laughing at you from above you.

as the melody fades back in, you just film all of you jumping and playing in the water, spinning around on the deck and lando and alex piggybacking you and lily.

"honey honey how you thrill me uh huh" lily looks directly at alex with a smile. nodding as she says uh huh.

"honey honey" the camera cuts to you and lily peeking your heads out from a doorframe

"honey honey nearly kill me" you collapse into landos arms, a grin cracking on his face as he feels your body weight on him.

"honey honey" the same clip of you and lily in the doorframe

"i heard about you before... i wanted to know some moree..." lily grins wildly as her and and alex hold hands and swing them back and forth.

you smile at the cute couple as you and your boyfriend sit and watch the sunset "and now i'm about to see.. what you mean to me"

you glance up at your boyfriend and look at him lovingly as the song ends.

lily would post your silly little music video on her socials later, but for now you all enjoyed each other's company laughing together as the sunset.

guys lmk if you want to see social media reactions to the videos or anything like that <3 hopefully this whole thing kind of makes sense!

[zablife]

Being Benny's Girl Would Include

Benny Cross Masterlist

A/N: After creating a similar list for Johnny, I now have one for Benny. Ty to a lovely anon for requesting it!

Warnings: slightly nsfw, drinking, mention of injury, mention of a weapon

♡ There are many sleepless nights, worrying about him out on the open road. And you have good cause bc he's constantly returning to you bruised and bloodied.

♡ You learn how to dress wounds, even sew a few stitches, bc he's too stubborn to go to a hospital, preferring your gentle touch instead. "You're better than any damn doctor, sweetheart."

♡ If you pout when he returns, he'll try to make you forget how upset you've been with a bit of teasing that cleverly puts something else in the forefront of your mind. "Did you pray for me every night like a good girl? On your hands and knees? Let me see."

♡ When you're feeling clingy, he'll take you down to the bar with him, not giving a shit what the guys think when you leave lipstick on him or pluck the cigarette from his lips for a drag instead of lighting your own. In fact, he encourages your behavior, flipping his chair around in hopes your small hand will nestle into the back pocket of his Levi's.

♡ Benny's not much of a talker, but he opens up to you bc you're the first person who's ever really cared enough to ask the right questions. That makes him want to tell you things he's never said out loud. He confides the ring on his pinkie came from his granddaddy, the only real father figure he ever knew.

♡ He gifts the important possession to you as a sign of his devotion and his heart skips a beat when he thinks about how you wear it on a chain bc it would slip off your delicate finger too easily otherwise.

♡ You're his sweet girl, an angel so precious he has restless nights worrying about you amongst all the burly men in the rough bars and pool halls he frequents. His concerns over keeping you safe giving him full blown insomnia after Kathy is attacked at a house party.

♡ You'll prob find yourself in an empty field the next morning, caged in by Benny's muscular arms, holding his .38 in your trembling hands. Nodding toward the line of beer bottles in the distance as he softly instructs, "squeeze the trigger real slow as you exhale. You can do it, darlin'."

♡ You didn't see the need considering the protective way he drapes his arm over you, eyes cautiously scanning the room with a feral look in his eye. Everyone knows what it means. Touch her and you're a dead man.

♡ He's been known to take things too far, esp when he's drinking. Once a guy collided with you at the bar, spilling beer down your white dress and turning it sheer. The unlucky son of a bitch found himself on the street seconds later facing the broken end of the bottle inches from his throat.

♡ The novelty of having your honor defended loses its appeal with every trip to county. Benny senses it in your anguished sigh and furrowed brow when you come to bail him out, hanging his head shamefully the moment he catches sight of you.

♡ Since there's nothing he hates more than disappointing you, he tries to keep his impulses in check and focus on your needs. "You know I'd do anything for you, angel."

♡ Nothing made your heart race with excitement quite like the day he stole you away for a winding ride that ended under a magnificent orange sunset. When he removed his shirt to make love to you in the tall grass, you glimpsed your name freshly inked over his heart.

[jaykesgirly]

first date

boyfriend!hyung line x gn!reader

synapsis: quick scenarios on where the hyung line would take you on your first date together

genre: fluff; no warnings needed

wc: 693

a/n: this was written in like 20 minutes so i apologize if it is literally horrible

Heeseung

He would 100% take you to an arcade for your first date. With his love for games he thought what better of a place for a first date right. He will get competitive when it comes to certain games but most of the time I can see him trying to let you win unless you’re just god awful at it. If it was a one player game and you didn’t know how to play it, Heeseung would take the chance to show off a little by showing you how to play. This man is very playful and will definitely tease you if you’re really bad at a game. BUT he will find it so endearing when you start pouting at his words and will immediately apologize and tell you he was joking. The night would end with the two of you getting ice cream and talking about all the stupid arcade prizes each of you won. Heeseung WILL be getting you a plushie no matter what, even if it takes him an extra 1000 tickets he is determined to make sure you walk out of that date with something he won for you.

Jay

I can’t think of Jay doing anything other than a nice dinner date out for a first date. He’s a very classic type of guy and will take you out somewhere more upscale since he has the means to do so (he just wants to spoil you ). He also just wanted an excuse to see you dressed up in something pretty. Will be the perfect gentleman from the time he picks you up to the time he drops you back off at home: opening the car/restaurant door for you, pulling back your chair and pushing you into the table, if you’re walking on the sidewalk he will be walking on the street side, and so so much more because this man is so smitten by you. If you even think about paying for this meal he will quickly stop you and tell you that you never have to pay for a date as long as you’re with him (he loves to spoil his favorite person).

Jake

Picnic date. Jake is the type to love the outdoors and would LOVE to sit out in nature with you. He will also insist on making all the food himself so it can be more special (even though his cooking expertise is limited). On the day of your date he will show up with everything packed in a cute picnic basket and a picnic blanket in hand. He made some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, apple slices, and some crackers along with a couple thermoses of ramen because it’s one of the only things he knows how to cook. Jake will take you to the prettiest park he knows to make sure the scenery is perfect for this date. You two will have such a lovely time enjoying each other's presence and talking about literally anything until the sun goes down. You two will watch the sunset together and it will make for the perfect romantic ending to this date.

Sunghoon

It would be a crime if I made Sunghoon’s literally anything except for ice skating. He genuinely would not know anywhere else to take you so his first instinct was to take you back to his own element. Sunghoon was fully prepared to be taking it slow with you while skating because not everyone has the same experience as him, so he will be holding your hands guiding you through the rink until you start to get the hang of skating (also sees it as an opportunity to be close to you). Fair warning he will laugh at you if you fall and eat shit, but will eventually help you up off the ice and back to your feet. And if you ask if you can simply sit and watch him skate how he used to, his heart would literally skip a beat. He would pretend to protest for a minute but would eventually oblige and show you some of his old tricks he used to do on the ice.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Zayne: A Good Day | NSFW

Happy Birthday Zayne!!! Our boy deserves a good day because he's our little meow meow! I'm so happy with his event and today imma play his card because I've been holding myself back and AAAAAAAH I am so ready for this. Also this is going to have two parts, the other will be posted by mid-day!

❧ Pairings: Zayne x Reader ❧ Warnings: Fluff, Dry Humping, Cum Eating, Hand Jobs ❧ Synopsis: Zayne's birthday is finally here, and he asked to have a simple, uncrazy day. So a hike through a forest and a picnic dinner by the lake sounded perfect. Halfway through the hiking trail though, Zayne decides he wants his birthday present early. ❧ Word Count: 4.5k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Part 2

Zayne

A Good Day

Being on a private hiking trail was certainly something that you weren’t used to. The path was well kept, but there weren’t any signs to your destination. While you were always used to running into people, even if it were one or two, you hadn’t seen a single soul. It was nice, for once, to be as affectionate as you wanted to on your walk with Zayne without having to worry about random passersby.

Zayne was still a little uncomfortable with PDA so you normally tried keeping it to a minimum. This entire hike you had been clinging to his arm, randomly pulling him down for a kiss, and just being all over him the entire time. It was probably why the hike was taking longer than anticipated. He didn’t stop you once, instead leaning closer whenever you tugged on him and giving a knowing look, sometimes commenting that he wasn’t going to walk off without you if you let go.

You had full plans on making it there for an early dinner so you could sit and enjoy the sunset while you sat by the lake at the end of the trail. Zayne had thought ahead and made sure you two left earlier than expected because he knew you, and he knew you’d probably get distracted and want to take a few breaks here and there. Your loyal doctor was, of course, right in this assumption.

Which is what you were doing now, sitting on a perfectly flat rock that was clearly placed on the trail for people to sit on.  The uphill climb was more tiring than you expected, especially with how you were practically skipping because you were so damn happy to be spending a vacation with Zayne. You once swore you would never be one of those lovestruck smuck, but there was just something about this man that had you acting like an idiot.

You felt something ice cold touching the back of your neck and you let out a small yelp at the sensation, almost jumping right off the rock. You turned your head and was met with Zayne having that ‘innocent’ smirk on his face, the one he always swears he doesn’t give you whenever he’s being a little shit. Everyone always thought this man was so calm and composed, but you knew better. He always had a teasing streak when it came to you, even when it came off with his dry humor.

Your eyes went down and you saw the water bottle he was holding out to you, which was the culprit of that freezing sensation. He had used his evol most likely to make sure it chilled perfectly for you. He always told you warm water was better at quenching your thirst, but after you had complained once he always made sure it was cold for you.

“You should hydrate,” he commented as you took the water from his hand. You stuck out your tongue, and uncapped the bottle; pressing it against your lips and taking a few sips, then  wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Thank you, honey dearest,” You said with a teasing smile. Watching the man’s face get a small flush from your endearing nickname was adorable as you placed the bottle next to you, “We’ve only been hiking for like…what an hour and a half? Why is this hike so hard?” you were whining now, although as a hunter this was nothing, you still wanted boyfriend sympathy. Sadly though, your boyfriend was a logical man and only gave you sympathy when you actually deserved some, not fishing for it.

“The first half is up a steep incline and we’re carrying a lot of supplies. Once we reach the peak it’ll be downhill so it should be easier,” Zayne pointed out. Right next to your feet was a rather large modified picnic basket. You had brought a lot of stuff, wanting to make sure you and Zayne would have enough for dinner. He had claimed he didn’t want to do anything extravagant for his birthday dinner, so taking it out in nature by a lake was the best solution you could find.

Just the two of you with beautiful scenery and some home cooking. You had even prepared a small surprise for him in the basket, which is why you had insisted you’d carry it. Zayne had protested a lot about that, but your stubbornness won out in the end when you told him this would be good training for you.

“Are we almost there?” you asked, knowing that Zayne had been the one to get the map so you two wouldn’t get lost. After your last little hike ended in a two hour detour because you swore you knew where you were going, he became the navigator.

“We’re about ten minutes from the top, and going downhill will only take maybe twenty minutes.” He stated and you let out a small sigh of relief. You couldn’t wait to get there and just relax and have a nice dinner. You had managed to work up a good appetite from the hike, and your stomach rumbled slightly as if reminding you it was still there.

“Good, I’m starving,” you commented. You had been preparing your dinner all afternoon, and as a result skipped lunch by accident. You did have a few samples of what you were making though, mainly because Zayne would keep stealing bits and then pressing it against your lips so you’d try it. It was most likely his attempt at making sure you didn’t become hangry later in the day. He used the excuse of helping you as well, not letting you say no when he asked, so you had given him simple tasks.

It had been fun having him helping you out in the kitchen. Especially when he had been content to just wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on top of yours while you stirred a pot. Moments like those were irreplaceable and you wished you could do it every day. Sometimes your busy schedules were truly a hindrance. One day though, perhaps one day you two would get to have that domestic bliss every day.

“You know, you never did tell me what was in that mystery package when you put our lunch together,” Zayne said as he decided to sit down on the rock next to you. You glanced at him with a smile, knowing he was trying to pry information from you. The package was something you had made at your own apartment yesterday before you guys had even come to this cabin.

You had been very stubborn in telling him not to look in it when you placed it into the fridge, letting him know it would be for dinner. Of course it didn’t stop him from being curious, probably because he figured it was a dessert of some kind. He had been cuter than usual when he saw you place it in the fridge. He had pressed a kiss to your cheek and asked if he could have his present early. He even used your weakness of nuzzling his face into the back of your neck while cuddling, knowing it made you absolutely melt.

So far you had managed to keep it a top secret from him, but it looked like his curiosity was getting the better of him. Sometimes he really did like to push it since he knew you always caved in with a few looks and touches from him. This man knew the effect he had on you, and wasn’t opposed to using it to his advantage.

“I told you, it was a surprise,” you said, feeling his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb trailing over you then going to tuck a strand of hair behind your hair. He was being cute again, giving you a soft look. This stubborn man…

His hand went back to just resting on your cheek and you were now leaning into his touch, unable to help yourself. “Yes? Did you need something?” you mumbled, already knowing you would be caving in soon. Your resolve was already melting away and he just needed to push a little more and it was all over for you.

“Is it so wrong for me to want to look at my partner?” he asked, pressing his thumb against your lip now. You chuckled, looking at him and kissing the finger there. Zayne smiled, the tips of his ears only a little red for the time being. You leaned closer to him on the rock, your hand almost touching his thigh and he shifted himself in case you wanted to come just a little closer and close the distance between you two.

“Normally it isn’t, but I know you,” you pointed out, taking his hand in your own, and playing with it. “You’re trying to butter me up right now,” you turned his hand so you could place some kisses on his knuckles. A small shiver went down Zayne’s spine as he looked at you with slightly wider eyes. His expressions came a little easier since it was only you two right now. While to others he still seemed expressionless, you could tell from the most subtle twitch of his lips how he was feeling now.

“I’m doing no such thing, I’m simply admiring you,” it was a weak argument, but it was enough to make you blush. You let out a small whine of protest, knowing you were losing right now. He was flustering you too much, the butterflies in your stomach going batshit crazy because he was just so perfect you couldn’t handle yourself. Who told him he could act like this and make you feel things?

You suddenly felt his warm lips pressing against your cheek, causing another whine to leave you. You wanted more, you wanted to feel his lips on yours. When he leaned back he could clearly see it on your face, but instead of doing anything about it he just had that subtle, knowing smirk. You were pouting now, knowing you’d have to take charge if you wanted a kiss and play right into his hands.

Instead of giving in immediately you decided to just try to continue on your conversation, “Well, if that’s all…” you murmured, your eyes looking away from him. You squeezed his hand and he adjusted his grip to run his thumb across yours. It was his turn to bring your hand to his lips and kiss the back of it, making your breath get caught in your throat.

“However…” he began and you knew it. This was it. This was where you broke and gave the man whatever it is he wanted, “Perhaps a snack wouldn’t hurt to help us reenergize for the last leg of our trip,” there it was. It was almost relieving that you had gotten to know Zayne so well that you just knew what he was going to do sometimes.

You laughed, pushing him slightly on the chest and rolled your eyes, “I fucking knew it,” you huffed. You could see the ghost of a smile on him because he already knew he was getting what he wanted now.

“Language,” another eye roll from you was the result of his little comment. You leaned closer to his face until you were staring directly into those hazel eyes of his.

“Besides, it was merely a suggestion, I don’t know what you’re trying to imply with your comment,” he played coy, as though he wasn’t trying to manipulate you into giving him the treats you had packed. You groaned and leaned forward, pressing a kiss against his lips.

“You’re playing dirty,” you said against his mouth, feeling the tug of his smile as he leaned in for another peck. “Way too bold today…” Another peck was his response as he took your chin between his pointer and thumb to keep you in place.

“Was it not you who said the ‘Birthday Boy could have whatever he wanted today’?” he reminded you, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips. You were absolutely putty in his hands right now, wanting to just kiss him breathless.

“How dare you use my own words against me,” your complaints fell on deaf ears as he brought you in for a longer kiss. This time your mouths working together, pressed up and savoring the contact. You felt him nibble on your lower lip teasingly, making you gasp. He really was being bold today, and you were all for it. He parted before you could lean in to deepen the kiss, a small pout on your lips and you could hear him huff in amusement.

“You can’t be mad at me for being curious. You’ve been sneaky the past few weeks, claiming you were ‘busy’ and then coming back smelling like sweets,” He said after a moment, leaning away from you for a moment. You whined, knowing he was done kissing you for the time being. Normally he was the one who had no restraint when it came to these things, but the man was on a mission. 

He had probably been wondering what you had been up to since you continuously told him you had plans when he asked you to cuddle on the couch…which was easily one of the hardest things you had done in your life. Saying no to Zayne? Unspeakable. Still, you wanted this to be the perfect surprise, so even if you left his home almost in tears because you wanted to run back into his arms, you held strong.

“I told you, I was going out with Tara,” You reminded him. It wasn’t a lie, when you told your friend you wanted to do something special for Zayne, she suggested making his favorite sweets. The only issue is that his favorite sweets happened to be macarons. So she had been going to classes with you. You only thought you’d be attending one, but after failing miserably you went to four more just to make sure you had it down to a science.

“Then care to enlighten me as to what you were going out for?” He asked, trying to pry it out of you. You let out a little groan the moment you saw the look in his eyes. He was giving you those big, pouty eyes. The ones he swore he never made at you. You knew he was a filthy liar though, the look on his face could only be described as a kicked puppy. He was almost begging right now, knowing how weak you were.

“Did you want your surprise right now?” You caved in, knowing that it was futile. You shouldn’t have stopped at all, should’ve powered through the walk and gotten to the lake to avoid this. He would be the end of you. You could give him the entire world if that’s what he asked. It’s the entire reason you had made him take time off work so you could spoil him for his birthday. Spending a couple days together in a secluded cabin is all you wanted so he could relax.

You felt him kissing your cheek again, “Only if you feel like sharing with the class,” he said, happy to have won this round. You almost pinched his cheeks for that, he seemed far too satisfied knowing he got you to crumble.

Instead you groaned and nodded, “Okay, fine, but only because you’re being really cute right now,” you saw him frown a little at that. He always said he wasn’t ‘cute’, but anyone with eyes could see it, “You can only have one though. You can have as many as you want after we eat an actual meal,” you at least could hold strong on this stance. You refused to let his appetite get spoiled because he ate too many sweets. Sometimes he could really act like a child…not that you were any better. You two brought out the best of each other, the childlike whimsy coming back in each other's presence.

“That’s agreeable,” it better be. You brought him down for a quick peck again before parting and going to the picnic basket you had. The bottom compartment had a cooler in it that you had stashed the treats in. You rummaged around, finding the perfectly packed box that you had wrapped in a pale blue cloth with snowflakes decorating it.

“Alright, close your eyes,” You instructed him. He complied, closing them with a smile on his lips. You took out one of the macarons you had slaved over; it wasn’t perfect by any means. Still the top and bottom were smooth and not burnt, and the cream inside tasted amazing judging by how you kept sampling it. They certainly weren’t worthy of being sold in a bakery, but they’d suffice for the time being.

You placed one at his lips and he opened and took a small bite out of it. He covered his mouth as he chewed, finally opening his eyes to see you holding out the other half of the macaron. He took your hand and brought the rest up to him, taking it into his mouth and savoring the sweet treat. You flushed at his boldness as he made eye contact with you.

His eyes then went to the box in your lap where he could see the rest. Some of them were a little disfigured, but you could vouch that they tasted good, “You made these yourself?” he finally said and you nodded.

“Ya, I went to classes with Tara so I could make them for you, they’re not the best, but they taste good at least,” you said, suddenly feeling a little nervous. You watched as Zayne’s tongue poked out, licking the remnants off your fingers and you gasped at the action, feeling the teasing sensation on your fingertips.

“They were perfect,” he said and you swallowed thickly, not knowing how to respond. You looked away from him, your heart was beating widely now because of him. He knew what he was doing because he kissed the pads of your fingers in response.

“I-I mean they’re not that great…” you murmured, “If I bought these in a bakery I would be pretty mad,” you tried rambling on, avoiding eye contact. He let go of your hand and you felt your shoulders relax as you could now think clearly again.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t talk down about my favorite baker,” Zayne said with a small sigh and you let out a whine from the back of your throat. His compliments were starting to get to you and you really didn’t know what you were supposed to say.

“I…fine,” you decided to just go with it. Arguing would only result in sweeter compliments being thrown your way. You sighed as you took the box and wrapped it back up, then placed it to the side so it was out of the way, “Well now that I’ve officially spoiled the birthday boy by letting you have a present early, I think we should get back to heading to the lake,”

Zayne had other ideas as you felt his hand around your waist, dragging you closer to him. You had to adjust yourself, throwing one leg over his lap so you could straddle him since you already knew this dance. Anytime Zayne could get you on his lap, he would. It was basically your favorite chair at this point, and it felt a lot better than the hard rock you were on.

“Yes?” you chuckled, waiting for him to tell you what he wanted. Instead you felt his hand on the nape of your neck, dragging you closer to him. Your lips met and you were still smiling against him. This time it wasn’t just a quick peck, it was a little more heated. His lips worked against you and made you moan once you felt his tongue prodding your lips, requesting access to your mouth.

He still tasted like macarons, sweet on your tongue as it glided against yours so perfectly. You couldn’t forget the irony of getting off of a hard rock, only to find yourself on a different hard object. Zayne’s hands went to your thighs, dragging you closer to his body, and you had to place a hand on his chest, moving your face away and watching the small string of saliva between you break as you panted.

“You’ve spoiled me, I think I want another present now,” his voice was a little more gravely as he pulled you in for another kiss. You moaned against his lips, feeling his hips rolling up into yours. You could feel his growing arousal pressing between your legs as you pushed your hips down on it. The way Zayne’s breath hitched at the movement sending a shiver right down your spine.

“Zayne, don’t forget we’re in public right now,” and on the edge of a hiking trail. Sure you guys hadn’t seen a single soul on the trail, but the thought of doing something so lewd in such an open area was…well you couldn’t say it wasn’t a turn on. You were just so used to Zayne being more modest about how he acted in public.

“This is a private cabin that the lake is connected to. Nobody else should be walking this trail,” Zayne said, squeezing your thighs a little harder. You moaned again as you began grinding down on him, “And you did say the birthday boy could have whatever he wanted today.”

With his permission you began grinding down on him again, letting out small moans as you felt his cock rubbing at you through your thin pants. His pants were already so tight that you could feel the outline of him perfectly through it.

Your hands were gingerly placed on his shoulders, giving you more support as you worked yourself on him, pressing down on him just right to hear small moans leaving him. The grip he had on your thighs was near bruising as he held himself back. He still rutted up into you, even through the layers of clothes he could still feel the warmth of your core against him.

“Zayne, you’re such a pretty boy. I love it when you become a mess just from something like this,” You moaned, looking down at his flushed cheeks. His hair was already a little disheveled, and he was panting, his kiss swollen lips parting slightly as he looked up at you with hazy eyes. Just the sight of him had your insides clenching around nothing.

He let out another groan and gasp, pulling you down tightly against his lap to stop your movements, “G-give me a minute to-,” he started and you could only chuckle. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, then another to his cheek. You could see he was taking one of his hands to bring to the front of his pants to take out his cock, so you grabbed his wrist and placed it back on your thigh.

“If you take your dick out here it could count as public indecency,” you chided, moving your hips as much as you could on his lap. There wasn’t much he could do, not when he found himself under your mercy as you rolled against his cock, the fabric only providing more stimulation to him.

He bucked his hips up into you, jolting your entire body as you began working on him again, this time pressing your hips harder onto his own, intent on making him cum just from a little dry humping.

The moment you could hear him whimpering you knew he was almost there. He always had the same, cute reactions when he was close to coming. The way his body subtly shook against yours, his thrusting became sloppy and erratic, and the way his noises got louder as he lost the ability to keep himself quiet.

“Zayne, are you fine with it in your pants, or no?” You finally said, panting now as you started pressing kisses along the column of his neck, being careful not to leave marks in places he couldn’t cover. He groaned at your words, holding your thighs still.

“No, out,” was all he managed to say between moans and you nodded. You unzipped his pants quickly and took out his dick. The moment it was in your hand you stroked it once and held your hand over the tip as he came. Your hand collected the warm fluid as he groaned, rolling his hips up into your waiting hand.

You watched as Zayne panted, pressing his forehead against your shoulder as he took a moment to calm down, his body still going through the after effects of his orgasm. You slowly took your hand away, satisfied you were able to not cause a complete mess in his pants. As much as you would’ve loved to, you knew you guys still had a full day of plans and it would probably be uncomfortable for him.

“Feel better?” You asked after a moment, noticing how his breathing started to go back to normal. He let out a small moan against you, lifting his head. He took a moment to stare at you which you decided was the perfect opportunity to bring your hand up to your lips.

You licked at his release, letting out an exaggerated moan at the taste. While cum wasn’t the best flavor, Zayne did take good care of himself so it lacked the normal bitterness. Zayne let out a groan from the back of his throat as you spoke, “Tastes even better than the macarons,”

You felt his large hand wrapping around your wrist and then dragging you forward onto him, locking your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue pressing against your own as he tasted himself on you. You smirked into the exchange, licking the roof of his mouth and making his gasp as you bit down on his lower lip.

“Is the birthday boy satisfied?” you finally asked, pressing a peck at the corner of his mouth. You watched as he cleared his throat, slowly coming back to himself. You began working his dick back into his pants and zipping it back up so he had at least some decency for the moment.

“Almost, we still need to take care of you,” Zayne said, looking down at his lap. Of course he would realize you didn’t cum just yet. You chuckled, cupping his cheek with your clean hand and making him look at you.

“You know, the picnic blanket I got is really comfortable. Maybe we can take care of one another and work up an appetite before dinner?” You watched as Zayne’s throat bobbed and he flushed slightly. It was clear he liked the sound of that, already thinking of all the ways he could have you by the lake.

“We can do that,” he said and watched as you stood up. You grabbed a napkin from your bag, wiping up the rest of the mess on your hand and running some of the water he handed you earlier. You then reached out, helping him to his feet albeit shakily.

“Oh and by the way…happy birthday,”

Tadaaaa! And if anyone was wondering, yes the Rafayel fic is coming and soon. I just need to do the final edits and I'll post it. I wanted to get it out before Zayne's birthday, but it's a literal behemoth of a fic.

[pixiesfz]

time k.c.c

plot: you and Kyra’s schedules are clashing too much

warning: angst and fluff, short

You were trying to have a nap on the bus ride from your hotel in melbourne to the airport but someone wouldn't let you.

Kyra wouldn't let you.

"Y/n" she dragged out "there's a sunset" she said and peeled off your sleeping mask to reveal no sunset "Kyra" you whined and threw your head back.

“Kyra” Steph warned “leave your girlfriend alone she’s tired” Kyra just puffed “she’s always busy at Chelsea we never get to spend time together”

You turned your head at your girlfriend who was now looking out of the window.

“Is that really how you feel?” Your voice was hushed and Kyra shrugged “I think, well yeah” she admitted and you sat up “we spend heaps of time together” you told her and she crossed her head.

“Only at night and even then all we do is eat, shower and go to bed”

You never knew she felt that way, you were both settling down to your new clubs and were constantly training and bonding with your teams that you weren’t spending enough time together.

“Oh c’mon we had that date the other night” you encouraged and she gave you a blank stare “ordered in pizza and talking about how you need to start running more is not a date”

Caitlin caught your girlfriend’s words and looked over from a row above which you caught.

“I think we need to have this chat back in the hotel room” you told her and she looked around to all the girls who were around and she nodded.

“okay” she said and you latched onto her arm “I’m sorry” you whispered into her ear before leaning onto her shoulder which she welcomed.

“It’s not just you” she whispered back before laying her head on top of yours. The comfort was nice, something you haven’t felt for a long time whilst the sky was still light.

Kyra held your hand the entire time before you both walked into your shared room and placed your bags onto your beds.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked Kyra who nodded “It’s just been eating me up” she admitted and sat down on the bed as you sat on the opposite one.

“We used to spend all our time together and now I feel like I hardly see you at all” she said and you nodded, you had always been on the same team u til now.

“It’s different now Kyra, we’re on different teams, we can’t train together” you told her and she nodded “we haven’t gone on a date in two weeks” she said bluntly and you nodded “that we need to improve on”

“Will we?”

Your head shot up at your girlfriend’s words “Of course we will Kyra” you said sharply and lifted yourself off the bed and walked to her, lowering yourself and holding her hands.

“Why would you even think that?” You asked and she rolled her head back “I’ve been trying to organise a date and you always have something on with the Chelsea girls” she groaned and you rolled your eyes “I’ve tried to and your always with the Arsenal girls but I don’t get angry about it”

“Why not?” Kyra asked, close to tears

“Because I know you’re just trying to fit in, same as me” you started “but as soon as we are bonded with the team and we feel comfortable, we have time for each other”

Kyra though for a second before letting go off your hands and bringing them to her face.

“God I feel stupid” she said and you laughed, pulling her hands off her face “you’re not stupid” you told her.

“You’re literally laughing at me”

“No I’m not” you laughed.

Kyra just have you a pointed look as you tried to hide your smile.

“How about we go on a date right now” you suggested, wrapping your arms around her neck and sitting on her lap, laying two kissed on her cheeks.

“Or we could skip the date and go straight to sex” Kyra shrugged, a smirk growing on her face.

“We only have two hours before we need to go on the plane” you cocked your head and your girlfriend’s grip on you hardened.

“Plenty of time.”

[servicpop]

CURRENTLY VIEWING : slightly obsessive deliquent oc x good student male!reader

「ㅤSFWㅤ」ㅤbandaging up your (almost) bf adrien after a bad fight!

✙ warnings — mention of violence / blood / slight homophobia / slight suggestions of stalking or obsession

notes ,, first actual writing post... hope you guys like it "

Adrien and you lived two worlds. You were a model student, perfect in every way, whereas Adrien was nothing but a deliquent who skipped all his classes and failed all of his subjects (except for sports). If you two were so different, how did you end up together?

It started with an exchange of glances when you both started your first year of being a senior, somehow your presence was never known by Adrien until that one glance turned into never ending eye-contact, briefly smiling at eachother as you two met eyes from across the courtyard. His heart felt like it was about to crumble whenever you smiled at him. Your lips, your perfectly imperfect teeth shining at him. He had definitely fallen for you.

But how would his friends feel if they knew he was crushing on another guy?

As much as he wanted to hide it he couldn't. Everytime he went home and sat down in his chair, he would be welcomed with your face in the form of printed pictures stored in his top drawer. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help it, you were so attractive you reeled him in like a fish. But somehow. Somehow. You and him talked more and more, exchanged numbers, hung out a few times and even brushed hands once! Adrien for sure didn't wash his hand after that. You weren't confirmed to be dating but it sure seemed like it.

And that was the start of Adrien's fall for you.

It was around 5:00pm, the sun still shining brightly but casted a slight orange hue into the empty council room, indicating that sunset would near. You were currently in said room, sorting the books, cleaning the tables, finishing off the work your teachers assigned you because you were such a good student. Yeah it was nice for them to rely on you but to be honest, all you wanted to do was go home but alas you couldn't.

Almost as if the universe pitied your unbearable boredom, the door to the council room clicked opened. At first you thought it was a teacher, but turning around you met the deep eyes of Adrien. His soulless eyes bore into yours, his knuckles dripping with blood as he stumbled into the room, almost collapsing on the couch.

"Got into another fight," He grumbled, his deep sultry voice reverberated in the room. Shit, his voice was hot. Snapping out of your thoughts, you quickly rushed over to him, viewing his bloody and bruised knuckles. It looked bad. Probably from beating the shit out of someone but you wouldn't question it. After some rummaging around you finally found the first aid kit, clicking the white box open before kneeling down infront of Adrien, a small smirk plastered his face.

"You don't have to you know? I just wanted—" Adrien's voice was cut out by a sharp hiss as you applied the alcohol to his wounds.

"Let me be a good friend to you."

Ooh... friend? That hit Adrien straight to the gut

"I just wanted company."

"Then your not allowed to hold my hand with those bloody knuckles."

"..."

"please bandage my fingers."

A wholehearted chuckle left your throat as you fished out the puppy patterned bandages around his knuckles, making sure you kissed each and every knuckles after. Just to make sure that there was no lingering pain of course, not because you two were had something for eachother or anything. You looked up at Adrien to see a small smile on his face, he was always so serious looking and whenever he smiled it was usually the shit eating grin type of smile. You had only really grown closer with him for a few weeks now so... why were you already hooked on him?

"You lost in thought?" He asked, snapping you out of your little trance. You shook your head, and he brought your chin up to meet his in a light kiss, his calloused fingertips gripping your chin lightly while his other hand found solace in your own. It was something straight out of a romance movie, his warm fingers against yours, his lips against your soft ones in such a gentle kiss. You never knew deliquents could be this gentle. Pulling away you wiped your lips and tugged your hands from Adrien's. You weren't dating him. You can't do this. You turned your head a pout adorned your lips, "Don't just casually kiss me," you huffed.

"But I know you liked it." Adrien hummed.

extra notes ,, I didn't have a full goal for what relationship reader and Adrien would have but i really liked the enemies to lovers sort of denial trope. I also experimented with the colour coding of the text, I find it easier to identify when they're speaking but let me know your preferences! I'm a bit nervous posting this since its my first time ever posting on tumblr but yeah! Also no smut yet, still getting warmed up you know

[revasserium]

Why does this scream second chance romance?

reqs are open!

at first sight

hayato suo; 6,284 words; fluff, slight angst, fem!reader, no "y/n", passing mentions of divorce, childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort (a little), the slowest of burns, suo is a simp, introspection, more plot than not

summary: and isn’t it strange, that a person doesn’t have to be dead to serve a haunting, how there only need be absence and sorrow and the utterly world-ending ache of what used to be?

a/n: this was not supposed to be this long or this self-indulgent but welp.

He sees you sometimes in his dreams, in the spaces right before he falls asleep — that sweet, weightless, liminal space where anything and everything is possible, even probable. He sees the shape of your laughter, feels the weight of your breath, can almost taste the sugarplum sweetness of your smile. He’d lose himself, then, in the firefly lights of your eyes.

On those nights, he wakes up with a scream curdling up the back of his throat like soured milk.

Because no matter how hard he tries to hold onto the good memories, the ones bathed in the precious, pale gold of summer sun, truth always slips through like a sharp, silver knife. Cold. Ruthless. Unrelenting.

“— so, I know we don’t know each other very well but… you’ve done so much for our shop and my grandma is so grateful and… it always makes me so happy to see you come by —”

The girl in front of him is pretty, in the delicate, unassuming way that all young girls might be called pretty. She is dark, pin-straight hair and thin-rimmed glasses. Suo can tell that she’s put on a sparkly sheen of lip-gloss just for this occasion. Her cheeks are tinted sunset pink; there’s a letter in her hands.

“Thank you,” he says, dipping his head, his hand linked behind his back, his expression schooled into one of polite affectation, the most gentle rejection. He listens to her run herself out, babbling on about visits and admiration and the shape of him outside the shop window, how her heart would skip a beat. He finds himself, wistfully, thinking about the shape of you — when you were small enough to wiggle under the fence in his backyard, dirt caked under your nails, your hair always chopped short, one of your front teeth missing as you tossed pebbles at his windows.

“I’m… sorry,” he says, finally, when the girl presses the letter into the center of his chest, bowing low enough for her long silky hair to cover her face. He slowly folds his fingers over the letter, giving her hand a squeeze as he presses it back towards her.

“B-but…” she looks up; there are tears in her eyes, “why…?”

“I suppose,” he says, voice light and conversational, almost as if he were remarking on the weather, “I’m just not the dating type.”

The girl mumbles something before sniffling and wiping at her eyes. She is, Suo admits, not a very pretty crier. But then again, he thinks, most people aren’t. She nods again, as if to herself, clutching her unopened letter to her chest before dropping into another deep bow and dashing off. Suo can hear the clipped echoes of her sobs as she races down the near empty streets, and he sighs.

He turns on his heels and makes his slow way back to his own house, the place small and empty, but clean. The single wooden shelf is lined with books, alphabetized. His futon is folded neatly in his closet. He goes through the motions of making tea, pouring the boiling water over the dried leaves, watching them unfurl. He breathes in deep and thinks of you —

You were the one who first taught him how to brew tea, your small hands not yet big enough to hold a teapot proper, but whatever you’d lacked in skill, you made up for in determination. He’d always admired that about you, the sheer recklessness of your nature that bled, somehow, into courage in his young mind.

“Careful! It’s hot…” he’d warned, reaching out to catch your wrist, but too late, the water had already spilled a little and you wince, but you don’t let go, your arms quaking as you set the scalding teapot down, biting down on your lips to keep from crying out.

“I know it’s hot! But you gotta use hot water if you wanna make good tea!”

And there, through the misty haze of steam rising from the pair of cups, sitting across the table from you, Suo thinks you’re the most beautiful creature in the entire world.

He loses you, he reflects, the same way he loses most things in his life — accidentally and to the well-tempered beat of fate from which no one can escape. One minute you were right there in front of him and the next, well…

“Moving…?” he says the word as if he’d never heard it before. You sigh, nodding, staring listlessly into empty space, your knees curled up and pressed into your chest, your chin propped on your crossed arms.

Suo blinks, “But… where are you moving to?”

You shrug, “Tokyo, I think,” you say the word with a soft resignation only found in those who have seen and lost, seen and lost again. Suo thinks he understands; looking back, he’s not sure he did just then.

“Because of… your dad’s work?”

“Yeah. He says that if his company does well there, we’d be ‘set for life’ — whatever that means,” you say, picking at a bit of invisible lint on your sleeves.

“But… what about your mom? And the teashop?”

You purse your lips, mulling over your words as if you’ve got a sour cherry pit caught beneath your tongue.

“She says… she can’t leave it. So… she’s staying here.”

“Oh,” Suo says, sitting back against his bedroom wall. Even back then, he was smart enough to understand the implications.

You nod.

Judging by the look on your face, so are you.

“So… when…” he can’t really make out the words; there’s something stuck in his throat that feels oddly like an entire handful of sand.

“End of the month,” you say, finally looking up at him to catch his eyes. And there, he sees the insurmountable sadness, the longing he’d sometimes catch a glimpse of in the slanted summer light. As if you’re waiting for him to do something, to say something. He could never figure out what exactly it was you’d wanted him to do. To say.

Stay.

He’d later realize.

Please.

He’d repeat the words to himself in the encroaching dark, lying on his futon, watching the light cast on his walls go from white to gray to gold, and slowly, sinking into cool, hollow blackness.

Don’t go.

He mouths the words until he can almost taste the shape of them on his tongue. He swallows around them like a fistful of sand, flips onto his side, and tries to go to sleep.

You appear before him like a daydream, a near mirage in the summer heat. One second, he’s laughing with Nirei at something Sakura’s said, and the next, he’s standing stock still, staring at the end of the street where he’s sure he’d just seen you —

You look older now, but then so does he, and your hair is longer, but the shape of your laughter, the light of your eyes — he wouldn’t miss those anywhere. Not then, not now, not ever. Even after all these years.

“Suo-san…?” Nirei peers up into his face, tugging on his sleeve.

“Hm? Oh sorry — I just thought —” he glances back at the end of the street. Just a large van and a few young workers, hauling things out from the back.

“Oh, there’s a new teahouse opening in town! That must be them, moving in!” Nirei says, cheerful and oblivious as always.

“What’s a teahouse do, anyway?” Sakura asks, picking at his ear and flicking something off the end of his pinky.

“Uhm… make tea?” Nirei offers.

“Yeah, but don’t we all know how to make — where the hell’s he goin’?”

Suo takes off down the street, whipping passed their usual haunts, the taiyaki shop, the okonomiyaki stand, Pothos cafe, to the corner of the street, just where the sidewalk threatens to curve into some more residential place —

“Oi!” Sakura calls after him but he doesn’t listen.

There — that sound. Sugarplum and silver bells.

The space is undone, the door propped open with a wooden crate, the young men with the moving company tutting as they grunt and step around Suo to carry more boxes into the space, setting them down along the walls.

“— there’s good, oh no — not that one — that one goes… oh here’s good! Thanks!”

You.

He sees you like something from his wildest daydreams, the shape of you in smoke and stardust — the light twisting and twining around you as if it knows, treating you differently than it might all the other people and objects in the room, focusing around you to paint you in richer tones, in brighter lights and deeper shadows. The air seems to gather around you like a held breath.

And for a moment, Suo himself forgets quite completely that he himself might need to breathe as well.

You turn your eyes on him and the world seems to shift focus like a camera lens shifting zoom. Everything blurs, sound slows, drags, distorts. The room around you fades until it’s nothing more than a suggestion of shapes and space.

Suo sucks in a breath.

“Sorry — we’re not quite open y…”

Your voice trails off, and vaguely, Suo thinks that you sound different than you did before. But there’s still the same lovely cadence to your words, the rounded edges, the crispness of your diction, the sheer weight of your conviction in the things you say and how you might will them into truth.

“It’s… been a while,” he says. His own voice is weak, wavering, dry and scratchy and sounding nothing like himself but he sees the moment you recognize him, wholly and completely.

“H-Hayato-kun!”

“Oi, Suo — who’re you —” Sakura rams a shoulder into him at this exact moment, Nirei pattering close behind, trying to hold him back. Sakura blinks at you, his head flicking between you and Suo as if watching an invisible tennis match. And then, some understand seeps into the depths of his eyes and his cheeks go a ruddy shade of pink.

“Uh — sorry, I didn’t — who —” he looks bewildered and awkward all at once.

“We’re Suo-san’s friends — from Boufuurin!” Nirei cuts in, finally succeeding in tugging Sakura to one side and peering around the rather narrow door frame. He bows slightly before jumping half a meter in the air as a mover clears his throat loudly behind the group of boys now clogging the door way.

You jerk out of your reverie and point the mover towards an empty corner before making your way over, your steps steady. It takes everything in Suo’s being not to move, to neither shift forward, to press into your personal space just to make sure you’re really real, or to turn tail and run till he doesn’t have the breath to keep running any more.

He can’t tell which he’d prefer more, but he knows that neither is the best option right now.

So, he forces himself to stand still, to wait for you to come to him.

And you do, drifting over in a cloud of light linen and a flower patterned apron.

“Hi! Long time no see!”

Suo registers faintly that though your hair is longer, but your bangs are still choppy, and the ends of your hair badly cut, as if you’d gotten annoyed one day and tried to do it with kitchen scissors. He bites back a smile at the image. But there are other subtle changes too — the round babyfat on your cheeks slimming out to a sweet, heart-shaped face, the hugeness of your eyes, almost alien-like in your child years, now balanced out by the depths of your features. Your lips are small and plush as an overripe plum — that, at least, hasn’t changed in the slightest.

“Yeah… what… are you doing here?” he asks, still struck dumb by the sight of you here, in Makochi.

You raise an eyebrow and Suo almost feels the motion like a gut-punch, the familiarity of it overriding your older features until he can’t really tell if he’s living in the present or if he’s been suddenly and unwillingly shunted into the past.

You scoff, “Opening a teahouse, duh!”

Nirei laughs and Sakura lets out a snicker that kicks Suo out of his stupor. He clears his throat, having the decency to at least look abashed.

“Sorry, yes — that much is obvious. Is there… anything we can do to help?” he tries to ground himself in the established notions of aiding the citizens of Makochi. At least here, he knows what he has to do. His voice evens out, his smile returns.

You regard him with that same, questioning look before casting your eyes around the room.

“Sure! Plenty to do if you guys have the time —” and then you start pointing to the various tasks they might help with.

Nirei and Sakura jump to, already used to the pattern, with Suo trailing behind them, moving slower than usual, his limbs feeling heavy, as if they’re full of lead. It takes them the better part of the afternoon to help you set up most of the bigger pieces of furniture. And somehow, by the time they’re done, a good chunk of the freshman class is there, chattering and laughing, lounging at the newly built tables.

“Alright! Who wants some tea? Fresh and on the house — consider it payment for a job well-done!” you clap your hands, grinning as the boys all cheer.

Suo keeps quiet, sitting at a corner table with Sakura beside him, Nirei across. It isn’t until Sakura digs his elbow rather painfully into Suo’s ribs that he turns his face towards them, hitching a smile to his face.

“Hm?”

“What’s with you?” Sakura asks, never one to mince words. Across from them, Nirei nibbles on his lips as if debating on whether or not to add on to Sakura’s line of questioning

“What do you mean?” Suo asks, folding his hands carefully on the table. He’s not fooling anyone; he knows, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t at least try.

Finally, impulse wins out and Nirei blurts out —

“You’ve been staring at that girl all afternoon and — and I’ve never seen you look at anyone like that before. And you’re the one that gets the most confessions out of anyone in our year, so it figures that if this girl c-can capture your attention like this, she must be someone really special.”

He finishes slightly out of breath, before ducking behind his little notebook, even though he’s holding it upside-down.

Suo lets out a helpless laugh.

“I didn’t know you were keeping track of how many confessions all of us got — that statistic seems irrelevant to our fighting abilities, no?”

“Quit tryna change the subject,” Sakura cuts in, loudly.

Suo sighs, nodding, “I was getting there. We —” he cuts off, clearing his throat as he feels his entire body catch on the edge of the confession.

He takes a deep breath and starts again, this time, pressing a slight smile between his lips, taking on a tone as if telling a story about someone else.

“We were neighbors growing up.”

Nirei blinks, “Is… that it?”

Suo’s smile goes a bit stiff and plastic, “More or less.”

“Liar,” Sakura folds his arms, frowning as he stares Suo down. His cheeks are still pink, but there’s a determined glint behind his eyes that never bodes well.

“Ah… well,” Suo weighs his options, but then lilts his head and shrugs, “you caught me — we were a bit more than just neighbors… more like childhood friends.”

Sakura narrows his eyes but doesn’t push. Suo looks down at his hands, laced carefully on the wooden table before he speaks again.

“We… spent a lot of time together and… her mother owned a teashop like this one.”

“Oh! A family business!” Nirei says.

Suo opens his mouth to correct him but your voice cuts him off.

“You still have them!”

A finger slips along the long tassels of his earring and Suo nearly jerks away, casting his eyes up to find you, a familiar teapot in your now steady hands, your eyes somehow bright and dark at the same time as you look down at him.

“Oh… yes, I —” again, he feels his throat catch, “of course I did. You were the one who made them for me.”

You let out a light laugh, setting a few teacups down at their table and prepping their tea.

“You didn’t have to — I’m surprised they held up after all these years. You know I bought the red beads at the craft store right?”

“Yeah, you… you used your New Years money. I remember…”

“And you helped me pick out the tassels from the lady who sells lucky knots at the market!” you say all this as if it weren’t one of his most precious memories, as if he hadn’t gone to great lengths to make sure the earrings you gave him (one of the only things you’d ever given them, other than perhaps a broken heart) never came to any harm.

Across from him, he can see Nirei putting the pieces together. Next to him, Sakura seems stunned still by the same revelation.

“If I’d know you’d like them so much, I would’ve made you a few more pairs. At least that way, you can try to match them with your clothes,” you grin, leaning down to seep their tea. Suo watches as the hot water washes over the dried leaves, rehydrating them till they each unfurl into their own shape. A deep, floral fragrance fills the air and he feels his stomach both twist and settle in the same motion.

“Jasmine green,” he says.

“Mhm. Your favorite. It’s a little basic but I love it too.” You shoot him a surreptitious wink. Then, you pause, “Ah — but it might not be your favorite anymore, I guess —”

“It still is,” Suo says before you can second guess yourself.

The smile that re-alights your face is nearly blinding in it’s brilliance.

“Anyway, I’ll leave the water here for you guys, yeah?” you set the teapot down next to Suo’s elbow, flash them all one more smile before twirling around and going to serve the next table.

It isn’t until much after dark that everyone leaves and Suo, having made up some vague excuse to linger, finally has you to himself. You hum as you flit from table to table, wiping them down and pushing in the chairs. Suo watches you for a solid minute before moving to help.

“Thanks,” you say, as he helps you push in the last chair and you wipe a forearm across your forehead with a long breath, “phew! Ma really made it look easy back in the day, but this is hard work! And we’re not even officially opened yet!”

“We’ll come by to help whenever we can,” Suo says, the response automatic.

You nod, folding the tablecloth neatly into a square and setting it on the counter.

The silence thickens around you, swirling and charged. Suo grasps for something to say, anything to say. He wishes you’d do something — turn on a light, hum another song, say something strange and outlandish, punch him, perhaps.

You do none of those things. Instead, you wipe your hands on your apron and turn to look at him, your eyes huge in the darkness.

“I’ve missed you.”

It nearly knocks him from his feet. The quiet force of your words, the raw-edged honesty behind them. The way your voice doesn’t waver. The way you say them not like an accusation but an admittance. He thinks he really would’ve preferred if you punched him instead.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling breathless, heat cresting up his chest, and suddenly, he’s thankful for the darkness within the not-yet-opened teashop.

“I’ve missed you too.”

He feels hollowed out by the confession, as if just speaking the words had carved him clean, so clean that the words echo through him, reverberating through his bones till he feels it down to his marrow. He hadn’t known that missing a person could feel like this, or that the word could mean so much until he’d said it out loud.

Missing. The lack thereof. A nothing where there used to be something.

It is a wrongness in the matrix, a hole, an abnormality.

It’s as if he’d been sleeping on the mattress from the Princess and the Pea ever since the day you’d left, a subtle incorrectness that permeated every single moment of every day, so obvious in it’s presence that it had folded back into itself and become something.

That the lack of you was a presence in and of itself, a living ghost that had loomed over him, slinked behind his shadow, hovered over his shoulder until —

He reaches out to touch you, fingers skimming against the skin of your cheek.

You lean into his touch, the motion slight but he catches it almost immediately, and the force of it is the catalyst that propels him forward. He tugs you into his chest and holds you there, burying his face in your hair.

“I — I’ve missed you…” he says again, and you nod, fingers crumpling in his school uniform as you press your forehead into his chest.

“Y-you’re so much taller than before — it’s not fair,” you say, your voice muffled by his shirt. He laughs, ruffling your hair for a second before his fingers so soft and he’s running them through from root to end.

“If I had a sister, I’d tell her to keep her hair long, so I could braid it,” he’d once told you when the two of you were barely in elementary school. You’d tugged at the ends of your chopped short hair and frowned.

“Ugh — I could never grow my hair out long. It’ll just get in the way!”

“It’s longer,” he says now, tugging at the ends even as he takes half a step away, releasing you from his embrace. You glance down at the uneven bits, crinkling your nose in distaste.

“I — I tried to grow it out but… I kept getting annoyed.”

“Yeah, I thought so but… I’ve always liked your hair short.”

“You have?”

“Yeah —”

I’ve always loved everything about you.

He swallows, “Short hair… just fits you.”

You stare up at him for a second longer before nodding, your eyes flickering away.

“Yeah. Guess it does, huh.”

Something clunks in Suo’s chest.

You turn away and he has to physically beat down the panic rising in his chest.

“W-where do you live now? I’ll walk you back. It’s not safe to walk around alone in the dark,” the words tumble from him like a bag of spilled marbles, scattering across the hardwood floors.

You turn back to regard him with a curious look.

“I — I live above the teahouse. So…” you shoot him a lopsided grin, a finger pointed up towards the ceiling of the teahouse.

“Oh. Right.” Suo blinks, watching you watching him before he notices the flight of stairs behind the open door in the back of the room.

“You wanna walk me to the stairs?” you ask, grin slanting sideways till its positively devilish and Suo feels a shiver kiss it’s way up his spine.

“I mean, it’s dangerous to walk alone in the dark, right?” you tease, before turning and slinking towards the back room door. Suo hesitates for a second before he sighs, shaking his head and following behind you.

He pauses at the foot of the stairs just as you pause on the step right above him. You twist around to face him, and the sudden closeness catches his breath in his lungs. Like this, he can feel the heat of your skin, can smell the shampoo in your hair — the same one you’d used when the pair of you were still kids, apple blossom and aloe.

You cock your head, your faces now on a level, your eyes searching his.

It’s so dark, but even in this lack of light, he can make out every single feature of your face.

“I think I can make it up the stairs by myself,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper, conspiratorial and low.

Suo lets out a small laugh, nodding, “Good. It wouldn’t be right for a gentleman to leave a lady feeling unsafe at this time of night.”

Your head slowly cocks the other way; he’d almost forgotten that habit of yours, like a sparrow listening for the rustle of leaves or the first breath of autumn wind.

“Since when’ve you been a gentleman?” you ask, still in that soft, whisper-voice, the kind of voice that compels the listener to lean closer, to tip forward until they’re falling into something they don’t even have the name for —

“And… more importantly, since when have I ever been a lady?”

He kisses you then. Or perhaps, you kiss him first. It doesn’t matter — or perhaps it does, or it will. But not now, not in the soft, nebulous darkness that surrounds you, not when your fingers are curling into his hair and his palms are settling at your waist.

And there are no fireworks, but there is light — electricity coursing through his body and yours, neurons firing and firing and firing. A cataclysm of yes and more and finally.

The first time you break apart, Suo is breathless; the second time, he feels punch drunk; by the third, he’s determined that this must be what it’s like to be thoroughly inebriated. His head is spinning, his face is hot, he has to remind himself of where his hands might be — oh, there — one in your hair and the other pressing you to him so hard he’s certain it’ll leave a mark.

The thought pleases him more than it should. Or perhaps it pleases him just as much as it should and always will.

“H-Hayato…"

“Mm — stay — please…” his voice is nearly broken as he drops his had into your shoulder; he takes a shaky breath, “don’t go.”

You let yourself be held, the pair of you propped awkwardly on the first few steps of the stairs, your fingers threading through his hair.

“I’m not going anywhere… this is my house now.”

Suo nods, vaguely aware that there are questions he wants to ask you — how’s your mother? Where’s your father? How are you here, alone, opening this teashop by yourself? Living here, by yourself?

But he will get to those later, tomorrow maybe. Right now, he forces his head up and regards you with hazy, blown-out eyes and kiss-slick lips.

“If I sleep on the floor, can I —”

You laugh, running a thumb along his cheek.

“We’ve shared a bed before and nothing’s happened. You don’t have to sleep on the floor — bed’s big enough for the both of us.”

Suo presses his lips for a second before shaking his head.

“It’s not that. I just… don’t think I could trust myself.”

There’s a hoarse, ragged edge to his voice that has you chewing on the inside of your cheek. He glances up the stairs and offers you a weak smile. You consider him for a second more before nodding.

“Yeah, c’mon. I’ll show you where the futons are.”

Upstairs, your bedroom is silver and alien with moonlight. It seems too bright, too sharp. But you step into it and suddenly, everything is alright again. You both wash up in silence, and you dig up an ancient band t-shirt from somewhere in your closet. He wonders how long you’d been here already — how many days and night he’d spent mere minutes from you.

He lays down in the futon after you slip beneath your sheets. He watches the shape of you as you shift this way and that.

Finally, you say, “Night, Hayato.”

“Sweet dreams,” he says.

And he falls asleep counting the sound of your breaths against the rhythm of his own, thundering heartbeats.

“Y-you what?!”

Sakura’s face is tomato red and Nirei looks just about ready to go into anaphylactic shock. Across the classroom, Kiryuu, who’s obviously been listening in, catches Suo’s eye and gives him a cheeky thumbs up.

Suo smiles, cheery and unabashed.

“I slept over.”

“B-b-but — you — I — she just —” Nirei seems to be fighting against some invisible force inside himself even as Sakura continues to gape.

Suo chuckles, nodding.

“Yeah, she moved here last week — it’s a total coincidence that we met up again. She had no idea that I was even here.”

He thinks back to the quiet moments of the morning, of waking up to find you sitting up in bed, staring out the window, your hair mussed and a little frizzy. He remembers the way the morning light had dappled the soft of your skin, how you’d smiled and asked him how he slept.

“Well. Better than I’ve slept in…” he clears his throat, suddenly self conscious of the gravel there. And here, in the unforgiving light of day, the night before seems miraculous and distant. Had he really held you in the dark like that? Kissed you till you’d said his name like something of a prayer?

Had he really held your hand all the way up the stairs?

You catch his eyes and smile, and like this, looking up at you as the rising sun halos itself around your shape, Suo wonders if he still might be dreaming. Because surely, surely — heaven couldn’t have been so close as this.

“So, what do you want for breakfast?” you ask, swinging your legs out of bed, your pale feet pattering against the fresh tatami floors. Suo is momentarily stunned by the sight of your bare legs, the large shirt you wore to bed now somehow terribly short and insufficient as it brushes by the middle of your thighs.

He swallows and forces himself to look away, to shake his head and focus on the words you’d said.

“Whatever you want to make,” he says, by way of an answer.

You hum as you cook, putting a bowl of rice in the microwave and putting on a pot of water to boil. The kitchen here is smaller than the one up front, in the main body of the teahouse, but it feels more homely, every surface effused with a sort of lived-in quality — clean, but rounded at the edges as if worn down by the love of days and weeks and months.

“How long…” he tries his voice again, only to find it wanting. He lets his words trail off and hopes that you understand.

“Hm? How long have I been here? Just a week. It was weird — my mom had bought this place a while back, and started the renovations, but I’d never had time to visit.”

“And where…” again, his voice trails off, his palms pressing flat to the thin counter, his eyes tracking the shape of you as you flitter through the small kitchen like a bird or maybe just a trick of the light.

“She’s not here,” you say, your movements slowing as you take the boiling water from the stovetop and pour it over some rough tealeaves, letting them seep for a few minutes before straining them out and tossing them into the trash.

“She’s… in Tokyo, finalizing the divorce with Pa.”

“Oh.”

His mind makes several inferences at once, even as he watches you soak the rice in the steaming hot tea and split the ochazuke into two bowls.

“I thought they’d… already done that,” he admit, nodding his thanks as you hand him a bowl and offer him a container of store-bought furikake. He takes it and shakes some over his bowl before handing it back.

“Yeah. Most people did.” You don’t offer up anything more and the both of you eat in silence. He polishes off the entire bowl and feels the heat settle in his stomach like a gap being filled.

“So… will she come after… everything is settled?” he choses his words carefully, peering up at you over the empty dishes. You slurp noisily at your own breakfast before licking your lips.

“Yeah, but who knows how long that’ll take? Might be weeks, might be — years, or something…” you drag the back of a hand across your lips and reaches over to pluck the empty bowl from his hands, dropping everything into the sink to soak.

“C’mon, don’t you have school or something to get ready for?”

“So… she’s here to stay?” Nirei asks, his eyes a bit overbright as Suo relays a version of the story, skirting tactfully around the more tender parts.

“Yeah, as far as I know. I promised we’d come by after school today to help her set up some more — you don’t mind, do you?”

“Nope! Not at all!” Nirei beams, but Sakura’s eyes are narrowed. Suo turns his gaze on Sakura and tilts his head with a questioning smile.

Sakura’s cheeks redden, “It’s just — ah, whatever — never mind!”

And no amount of prodding or teasing could tantalize him into saying more.

Time passes by strangely after that — at times slugging by slow as molasses, at others jumping forward in great leaps and bounds. Suo spends nearly every waking moment when he’s not at school or on patrols with you, sometimes simply sitting in the corner of the teahouse, flipping through a book, watching as you served your growing roster of regular customers, at times helping you catalogue new shipments of tea and organizing them by type, brew time, and temperature.

Sometimes, when the light catches you in just the right way, Suo finds himself arrested by the sight, and it’s times like these when he’d tug you forward, a finger under your chin, his lips gentle on yours till he can taste the tang of your smile.

“I heard you’re quite the lady’s man,” you say, casually one day, brewing a test batch of a new varietal of white tea.

“Oh? And where might you have heard such a thing?” Suo grins, pillowing his chin on the heel of his hand, watching you as he always does.

“Just the baker’s granddaughter — she goes the prep school I do, you know the one in the next neighborhood over?”

“Ah… that.”

Your grin goes lopsided as you carefully blow on the top of your teacup and take a dainty sip.

“You got your hair cut,” he says, smiling as he rakes his eye over the cut of your bob, tickling just beneath your earlobe. You go slightly cross-eyed as you tug a strand down over your forehead before blowing it away again.

“Yeah. Figured it was about time I got a proper haircut.”

“I liked it the way it was before.”

“You did?”

“Sure I did. I’ve always loved everything about you.”

Between you, a single column of steam rises in a slow, lazy spiral from the surface of your half-drunk cup. And like this, Suo thinks you’re still the most beautiful creature he’s ever, ever seen.

Your blush is quick and brilliant. Your eyes cut away; you push your hair behind your ears.

“Don’t changed the subject — so what’s this she said about you not really being one for dating, hm?”

Suo shrugs, “I’m not.”

You quirk an eyebrow.

“Then…” you blink at him, cheeks flushing darker and darker, “what do you call this?”

Suo fixes you with a steady look, and now, his voice doesn’t waver when he speaks to you, because he knows that he’d never let the certainty of you slip away from him again. This time, he knows the words to say — knows without the shadow of a doubt his truth, and yours, too.

“I don’t know what I’d call it but… I know that I’ve never really believed in dating.”

You lick your lips, setting the cup down with a soft clack.

“Then what do you believe in?”

Suo doesn’t miss a beat.

“I suppose… I’ve always just believed in soulmates.”

Your mouth falls open ever so slightly. Suo smiles as he reaches forward to tug the strand of hair free from behind your ear just to run his thumb over the smooth, silken ends.

“And, I’ve always, always believed in love at first sight.”

[koolades-world]

one bed troupe w/ Satan

Satan had the perfect idea. He had heard you rave about the city you had grown up in and all the precious memories it held. You told him often whenever you were reminded of familiar faces, the local bookstores, the bakeries, and most importantly, the beaches. He felt as if he could listen to you talk about your childhood forever. That's when he got the grand idea to take you to see that city again for a day. That way, you could see it all again and he might get the chance to make precious memories with his favorite person.

Upon suggesting this idea to you, you practically began bouncing off the walls, shaking him, asking when you would be able to go. When he told you he could arrange for the both of you to leave that weekend, you began jumping for joy. "I'll be able to show you everything! You're a genius." You hugged him tightly. After pressing a kiss on his cheek, you disappeared, presumably to tell someone else. You hadn't even stuck around to hear the rest of the details.

He laughed to himself, and called Barbatos to let him know they planned to leave that Saturday. Barbatos was more than happy to help them, and glad to hear you were so excited. Saturday came quickly. You gripped Satan's hand tightly and skipped to the palace, dragging him behind you. You had on a small backpack filled with essentials that Satan knew he would inevitably end up carrying at some point, but he didn’t mind. He was just happy that you were happy. Once you reach the palace, and made it to the human world, you were quick to take Satan to all of your favorite places.

First, you took him to your favorite bookstore growing up. You knew he'd be just as obsessed as you were and still was. There were book stacked up to the ceiling, and were somewhat categorized. The tights aisles forced you to walk one behind the other, but you still never let go of his hand. The two of you easily spend an hour along in the section with Sherlock Holmes. Once you were done in there, you took him to your favorite ice cream place. The beach you often watched the sunset on with your family was nearby, and while it wasn't sunset quite yet, you figured the two of you could still get something and enjoy the view.

After a little more wandering around, you were getting hungry since ice cream isn't really filling, so you took him to a cafe that held more memories as a teenager to you. After school, you'd meet up with friends there for projects, or for just in general when you weren't quite ready to go home yet. While the two of you were chatting, cuddled up side by side, enjoying a coffee each, you happened to see a familiar face.

"Mc?" You turned after hearing a familiar voice.

"Mom! What a surprise seeing you!" You got up to hug her. Satan looked at the woman you'd happily greeted. He could see the resemblance. The two of you chatted for a bit, standing beside your table. Evenutally, she turned to him.

"Who's this? Sorry for ignoring you, dear." The tenderness she addressed him with hit him like a brick. He was almost certain that Mc's immediate family knew about the exchange program, but he still looked to them to check. After they gave him a little nod, he introduced himself.

"I'm Satan, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you. Your child is lovely." He stood up to shake her hand, the small backpack falling over since he stood up so fast. She hugged him instead, ignoring his outstretched hand.

"No need to be so formal. Anyone who's good enough for Mc is good enough for me. Besides, demon or not, you're one of the family. That reminds me, the two of you need to spend the night, if you can extend your day trip. The rest of the family hasn't seen you in a while and they'll be excited to meet you, dear." She pulled back so she could hold both of your hands in hers.

Mc looked at Satan, imploring him to agree. "I think I can make that happen." He nodded with a smile. He had never felt so welcome somewhere he'd never been. Mc began squealing and almost jumping on the spot. Satan got his second hug from Mc that day, and his third total. After agreeing to meet up at Mc's childhood home at five pm, you parted ways. The both of you sat back down, and as you began chattering about your family, Satan sent a few messages to Barbatos letting him know they'd be back tomorrow at some time.

Before he knew it, five rolled around and they made the short walk to the place Mc grew up. They skipped up to the doorstep, and he followed at a little bit of a slower pace. He couldn't help but be nervous. But, as soon as that door swung open, he immediately knew he would always be welcome there. After being greeted by a hoard of people that look like Mc at the door, they were ushered in. After being briefly separated to chat with different people, they were reunited at the dinner table when it was time to eat. It was heartwarming to see Mc in their element, surrounded by their family. He felt almost bad to have taken them away from something like this. He got to see his family everyday, but they didn't. It seemed, unfair, in a way. Before they knew it, it was time to head to bed.

"Night guys! See you all tomorrow morning." You waved to the crowd in the living room, and grabbed Satan by the hand to free him from the gaggle of uncles surrounding him. A few of them chuckled at how easily he went with you. Your mom passed you two towels and waved you both after her up the stairs.

"You should still have clothing in your drawers since you didn't take everything with you, and if you need something for him, let me know. I can borrow something from your father's wardrobe. Sweet dreams, angel. It truly feels like a miracal being able to see you today." She kissed Mc's forehead. That simple act warmed him. Sometimes, he considered Mc to be his angel too, someone he didn’t deserve.

"Night, Mom." They smiled.

"Good night, ma'am. Thank you for your hospitality." Satan chimed in, not wanting to seem rude.

"No need for the formalities. You're practically family. Now, go get some rest." She walked off after leaving them in front of a shut door together. Satan had almost assumed he would be walked to a different door.

"This is my childhood bedroom. Promise not to laugh?" Mc put their hand on the doorknob.

"The fact that you had to ask makes me curious, but yes." They swung open the door to be greeted by a colorful, cute room that had been designed for what looks like a toddler. The decor looked like it was for a teenager, but the walls were painted like a forest, with forest creatures scattered. "It's cute in here." He took in the entire room. Mc glanced away, bashful.

"You should go shower quickly, before everyone downstairs moves up to bed." They opened one of the dresser drawers, and passed him a large hoodie and pair of sweatpants. He chuckled, but let you push him towards the bathroom. Once both of you had showered and changed, you were in your room again together.

You pulled back the covers of your bedspread, wiggling under it, and avoiding Satan's gaze. "I can sleep on the floor, if that makes you more comfortable." He said.

"No, no. It's fine. That would be unfair to you." You wave him off and pat the bed softly.

"You could've told them we weren't dating. I wouldn't have been offended, Mc." He tried his best to hide the smile on his face.

"Well, they seemed to really love you. I just couldn't break their hearts like that. Besides, I actually don't mind that idea..." You trailed off shyly.

"Hmm, what was that?" He decided to tease you a little.

"Nothing! Nothing, 'tan." You laugh a little.

“Well, seeing as everything is usually about me, and my dysfunctional family, tell me all about yours.” That seemed to do the trick to ease you. As he settled into bed next to you, you began to talk about family member he’d met downstairs. It was no wonder you fit in with his family so well. You knew each member of both of your families like the back of your hand, down to every detail. It really showed how much you payed attention to detail and cared.

As you fell asleep with a quick apology and a yawn, he remained awake. You were facing each other, so he was able to see your facial features and the awkward way your arms rested. He moved the blanket up higher over your shoulders, studying your features with a small smile.

Despite being a demon, he couldn’t help but feel blessed by some divine power out there to be graced with someone as sweet, and caring as you. Watching your chest rise and fall, he brushed your hair aside a little. The domesticity of this, and of everything that day had entailed made him fall more and more for you. Just being in your presence was enchanting.

He could get used to this. The next morning would be even more fun, since he knew you weren’t exactly an early riser. With a sigh, he shut his own eyes, but not before he put one of his arms around you. He was so grateful for you.

[the-kr8tor]

What is Normal for the Spider is Chaos to the Fly

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 8.7 k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader, CW violence and gore, CW blood, TW death, CW guns, CW food mention.

Our Place in the Middle of Nowhere Masterlist

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CHAPTER 3 >>> CHAPTER 4

Eyes closed, you breathe in the fresh spring breeze, the first of many this season. Pollen makes your nose itch, bees buzz around the field of flowers, yellow dots kissing the soft petals. A babbling brook sits near you, perfect spherical rocks worn down by the waters makes you want to skip them across the transparent clean water where fish lie and swim right under the currents.

The bright sun above shines down on you, its light fighting through your eyelids and through the canopy of the oak tree. Its strong trunk provides the perfect back rest, the wood is stable and protective of your relaxed form. Like the softest carpet, the green grass below is splayed under you. Blades of grass and wildflowers swaying amidst the wind just like how your lashes flutter with every soft blow of the cool air.

“Why'd you stop?” Hobie asks from below. You crack open your eyes to see his lopsided smile, jade eyes crinkling in the corners. His head is resting on your lap, fingers absentmindedly playing a tune on the beaten up guitar on his chest. There's flowers in his hair, courtesy of you. “C’mon, lovie, I was just starting to fall asleep.”

You chuckle, and he smiles wider. The sun bathes you in its glow, a halo of light around your head, a heavenly sight for a mere mortal. “You're spoiled you know.” You realize your fingers are in his hair, soft fingertips paused on his skin. Your vision goes blurry, with a blink, everything shifts back. “So spoiled.”

“Says the one who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth.” He says it with no ounce of malice.

“How'd you know about spoony?” You joke, he laughs, a sound better than anything you've ever heard of. “How was work?”

“Lonesome, you didn't come by.” You tilt your head, lips pursing into a soft smile. “Do I still smell like gunpowder to you?”

“No, you smell like flowers.”

“Is it too late to say that I'm allergic to ‘em?”

You giggle, “No you're not. You haven't even sneezed.” Grabbing a daisy from his hair to wiggle it under his nose, his face scrunches up comedically, and then he fakes a sneeze. The loudness of it startles the birds nesting by the branches, wings fluttering rapidly further away.

“Good job, you scared the birds.” You look down at him, hand inching closer to the daisy ring you've made a while ago.

“What? I can't sneeze?” His eyes are glued to you, the sun paints a pretty picture of his viridescent eyes shining in the light.

With a deep inhale, you take his hand away from the guitar, slipping the flower ring you've been itching to place on his finger. Hobie seems to freeze up either in your touch or the sight of the makeshift ring. You show him your hand, an identical white flower whose stems are wrapped gingerly around your middle finger.

“Ta dah.” You say shyly. The tightness around your chest clenches at his silence. “I'll take it off, I'm sorry. I thought—”

Hobie quickly reaches up to shield the ring away from you, “No, don't—it’s brilliant. Thank you.” You beam at him as he intertwines his fingers around your own, the rings in full display. “Suits me, I think. But it looks better on you.” You inhale, the comfortable warmth is replaced by icy air. Everything shifts.

The breeze is colder now, the grass is frozen under your feet, frost clinging to each blade. The canopy is no more, only dark angled branches with tiny leaves hang off the precious oak tree. A puff of smoke billows out of your dry lips, Hobie hugs you closer, hand rubbing up and down your arm, body heat shielding you from frost bite.

“Cold?”

“Yes, very.” You shiver, and he holds you closer. “This sunset better be worth it, Hobie, I had to put down a really good botanical book for this.” You say, cheek pressed atop his chest, breath warming his neck. You'd choose him over any book.

“First sunset of the season, love. It's worth it, I promise.” Without a second thought, he takes his coat off to place it over your shivering shoulders. You huddle closer, wrapping yourself around him. Sharing your warmth.

Blue slowly ebbs away as he pulls you closer. The clouds part ways for red and orange, pink splashes across the sky, a watercolour painting that leaves you gasping for air. Or was it his lips upon yours for the first time that has you heaving for air?

Hobie kisses you with the gentleness only a lover could provide, yet with the tentativeness of someone who isn't sure you'd kiss back. The pads of his fingers brush along your jaw, ghosting over your flustered flesh. With a sigh and a pull on his jacket collar, you kiss back. Lips pecking the corner of his own, clouds of smoke mixing in, hands warm on your searing cheeks— he slowly leads you towards the same oak tree. Your back hits the wood with an almost silent thump, his hand protecting the back of your head. Eyes closed, you memorize his lips by kiss alone. Your hands knead at his nape, he shivers not from the cold.

“I'm in love with you.” He says it confidently, like he's been saying it to himself for years. He feels like he has.

“I've been waiting to hear you say that.” Your eyes meet his own in a dance. Eyes flicking down to his lips, jade eyes looking between your blown out eyes and your quivering lips. “I've been in love with you. For a really long time.” You feel his lips open, mouthing the three words back against your own. It's barely above a whisper but you know that he'll scream it if you asked.

A flash of his warm hands around your own, a glimpse of a knife carving yours and his initials on the wood that you both call home. A muffled promise lingers in your ears, soft, just like his lips on yours.

You open your eyes and you see him above you. Hobie pinches your nose with a laugh, calloused fingertips squeezing lovingly at you, emerald eyes swimming with affection. The warm air passes by, humidity stuck in your nose. The sweat of your brow is quickly wiped away by him.

“Stop sayin' that, yeah?” You don't remember what you said. “You're bloody gorgeous, she doesn't know real beauty even if it hits her powdered arse.”

“Hobie!” You laugh, hands planted on his hips, the fabric of his shirt is hitched up for easy access. “She's still my aunt, and my legal guardian.”

“Unfortunately.”

Your smile agrees with him, but if you say it out loud you're afraid that the ground will swallow you alive and Hobie will be ripped away from you.

“It's a nice day today, you plannin’ on gropin’ me the whole afternoon?”

“Yep!” You look down at where his hands are placed, palms cupping you right above your ribs. “You planning on doing the same to me?”

“Say otherwise and I'll take my hands away from you—”

“No!” You say quickly before he could finish.

Hobie guffaws loudly, face leaning closer to yours. You close your eyes, expecting the expected. Instead, his head falls on the crook of your neck, blowing warm air into your skin.

Your laughs echoes around the clearing, fading into the sound of leaves crunching under your footsteps.

Orange leaves fall down on you like rain, a puff of breeze settles in your muscles, rattling your bones. Despite the cold, you inch your way closer to him, his smile beckons you over, grassy spring coloured eyes lighting up at the mere sight of you. His back resting on the strong oak tree that carries both your names.

“You know, we could always meet up at your place now that you're the up and coming associate.” You hold your hand out towards him, his fingers slide on your palm so naturally that you think you're made for eachother. “We can stop sneaking around now thanks to you.”

Hobie feels like he can finally breathe once he has his hands on you. He twists your wrist gently, leaning down, he presses a quick kiss on your pulse, eyes meeting your own. Years of being together, and he still makes your heart race.

Warm lips on your skin, he pecks it again for good measure before leaning away and pulling you closer. His hands are around your hip, while you wrap yours over his shoulders. “We could. But even after all my hard work, your aunt still doesn't—won't approve of us together. I'm me and you're you, love. What would they say when they see their heiress skulkin’ around the harbour, hm?”

“They won't say anything because I'm good at skulking around.”

“Or they'd say you're hurtin' your prospects of a good husband.”

“Fuck them! You and my garden are all I need.”

He calls your name solemnly, “we have to face the fact that—”

“What? That I'll be stuck in a loveless marriage in the near future?” You shake your head. “I refuse.” A humourless laugh breaks through.

“Good thing you said that or this will be awkward.” Hobie takes out a pair of gold rings from his pocket, it shimmers in the sunset, cold metal upon his warm trembling hands. “It took me a hundred days to save up for them, they're scraps from the factory. All melted together to make a pair.”

“Y–you're stealing from us now?” You could barely finish your joking sentence with the sob fighting to escape your throat.

Hobie laughs, a breathy one that has you mentally making up another joke just to hear it again. “Been at it since they hired me.” He hands you one, not sliding it down your finger, no, he places it right in the middle of your palm. “Remember those daisy rings you made years ago?” You nod, eyes brimming with tears. “I've made ‘em real this time. But the next one would be pure gold, none of the mixed ones I've melted with it.” He bounces on the balls of his feet as you glance at the gold ring that is a hodgepodge of different shades of yellow gold. Some seem to be darker, some lighter. “You deserve real ones.”

“You could make me a ring out of grass and wood, and I'll still wear it everyday.” Taking the ring, you slide it into your middle finger, a promise, he says in your ears, a promise, you repeat against his lips as you slip his own ring around his finger. A promise you both carved out into the tree and into your hearts, a promise that you'd carve out into your skin if you could.

The smell of burning wood wakes you up with a start, You've woken up with tears trapped in your eyelashes.

Your eyes open to a boiling pot of brown liquid. It's familiar, awfully so that you've hated it, it reminds you of someone you'd rather not remember. Looking up at the sky that is darkened to a pale blue, turning the orange and green plains into its royal colour— The roaring open fire is the only bright thing in sight, a yellow glow amidst all the bitter blue.

The amber flames screams among the dead silence and the vast emptiness, ‘Someone’s here! Someone’s alive over here!’ yet, you don't feel like you are.

You cough from the cold, throat itching from dryness. Lifting your hands up to tug the blanket further up, you now notice the deep crescent moons left on your palms. Some even bled through the night, dried blood decorating the lines on your palms and under your fingernails.

“You're awake. Good.” Hobie's voice hits you like a carriage, sleep ridden mind still hazy. For a second you thought that you're still dreaming of him. But his solid form and smoke from his cigarette resting on a stone says he's real. Your mind can't dream of something so tethered to reality like this. “You want some?” He rattles the now empty tin cup, brown liquid dripping from the rim to the ground below.

“You're offering me a cup?”

He furrows his pierced brows. “‘course, there's plenty.”

“No, thank you. Do you have something to eat instead? Or water?” Sitting up, you wipe the sleep off your eyes. Your joints hurt, stomach gurgling, and ankle aching. You hate it here, he's the only one that's making everything bearable even though he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else than be with you. It still hurts, thinking that he does.

“Yeah.” Standing up with a groan, it seems like sleep didn't agree with him either. There's bags under his eyes, worsened by the shadow from the brim of his hat. Taking something from his pack on Buckeye, who still slumbers quietly, he holds out a canteen and a piece of dried meat wrapped in cloth. “‘ere.” The familiar scar on the back of your hand has him reeling away. He remembers the day you got it, he remembers how his hand trembled as he stitches your hand back together.

“Thank you.” You say, stiffly smiling. He nods, returning back to his seat.

Breakfast went over fast, with dawn turning into morning, and the crisp air warming down, you take the blanket off your shoulders. Bucky trotts on the road, coyotes chirp on your left and a tumbleweed passes by on your right. It feels like you and Hobie are the only people on the road, or even in the whole world.

You clear your throat, attempting to break the quiet after riding for hours in absolute silence. “So…are you an outlaw? A mercenary for hire, or even a trapper?”

“‘m one of those things, yes.”

“So mysterious. You know you're still an open book to me.” Looking over your shoulder, he grabs your chin to make you look away and to keep your eyes on the dirt road. To which you laugh at. “Yep, still an open book.” It's true that you still know him for the man that he was, but there's missing pieces of him in your mind. You intend to dive to find the pieces so you could piece together who he is today. Before you go home, before you part forever again.

“How would you know?” Hobie tamps down a smile even though you won't be able to see it. “Maybe I've changed in those five years.”

“Oh you have.” You'd know. “But I can still see through you. I know you, Hobart Brown. Or did you also change your name too?”

“It's Larry now.”

“You serious?” Looking behind, you see him sporting a smirk. A smile spreads across your lips at his playfulness, a semblance of the Hobie you once knew.

“For example?” He asks, something he might regret. “What do you see through me?”

“Well, you put this big bad façade up because it's what everyone expects you to be. But in truth, it's so you could survive here. I bet it's working well since you're still here breathing.”

“I don't care what anybody thinks, Y/N.”

“I know that too. But you still do it because you don't want them talking to you, coming close to you. I remember how hard it was to even get you to speak to me.”

“I was a kid, we were children, and I was new in town.”

“I got you to talk though. Still proud of myself that I got to see the real you.” You puff out your chest. “This place is just like our old town, you know. Harsher, yes, but this time you don't bother to try, not like last time.” Your voice lowers into a murmur. He knows why he doesn't bother, because there's no one out here that could get him out of his walled up shell just like you did. There's no one like you. “I still know you, after all these years. Even if you think I don't, or at least the version of you that you left me with.” The sky gets darker, grey clouds floating next to white fluffy ones, and you still remember how he held you the first time you shared a bed. “You've changed and I confess that I barely know this side of you. I don't know what happened to you in those five years but could you let me try to get to know you again? Just like last time?”

The clouds above darken his green eyes, something passes by them, something that has his hands gripping tighter around the reins.

“It's goin’ to rain.” Is all he could say. “We should hurry and find shelter, there's a shortcut I know.”

You inhale the sharp familiar smell of petrichor, letting it settle in your lungs, letting it drown you, letting it seep through your skin so you can focus on it rather than the flatness of his voice that lacks what you're used to.

“Sure,” you swallow thickly, nails digging into your hemp bindings instead of your flesh.

Hobie clicks his tongue thrice, a sharp almost whistle, and out runs Bucky faster on the sandy lonesome road. Hooves thudding like the rumble of the heavens above, a lightning storm races behind you, sparks of light flashing and clashing on the mountainous rocks of the west.

“Hold on,” Hobie whispers close to the shell of your ear, goosebumps spreading through you like poison ivy on skin. He leans forward, leather clad body shielding you from the harsh howling winds that approaches quickly. “This storm's comin' in fast.”

Wind whips your cheeks, cool air making you narrow your eyes into slits to protect it from the dusty debris. A silhouette of a person appears at the end of the road, you feel Hobie stiffen up from the suspicious man. Arms cage you in, the mysterious man's shadow gets closer and closer as Bucky whines and halts to a stop. Hobie hides your hands with his own, a small act that brings your mind a minute of peace.

“State your business.” Hobie says in a practiced tone, commanding like the one he used with the man who snatched you.

The old man walks with a twisted cane, a makeshift one made from an old branch. His eyes are dull and almost silver, blue rings around his irises, eyebrows thick and white, beard bushy and hair almost gone. Right behind him lies a dip in the road, a chasm from where you sat, a deep gorge from what you surmise. Right next to the road sits a dingy solemn cabin, roof looking like it's about to collapse under its own weight, hinges creaking, window shutters opening and closing harshly from the wind. A border collie barks at you, mismatched eyes unwavering, warning you of something to come.

“Just ‘ere to warn you, son.” The old stranger trembles, either from the cold or from his bad leg. “Anyone who come ‘ver down that road doesn't come out unscathed.” He wipes his face with the sleeve of his yellowed shirt. “Just tryin' be a good samaritan.”

“Yeah? Penance for the war then?” You give Hobie a look. He glances over to you in return.

“I was on yer side, son. I won't be out ‘ere warnin’ you and the missus if I wasn't now eh?”

“Thank you for the warning.” You pipe up, the brief silence has made the whole situation more awkward. “We'll try another route then—”

“No,” Hobie stands his ground, “just like she said, thank you for the warnin’ but that's the closest route to Strawberry.”

The man takes his hat off even with the intense shaking of his hand. He then places it on his chest like he's already mourning you. “Safe travels. Don't say I didn't warn ya.” With a whistle, the dog runs over to him before helping him walk home.

“Wait!” The man stops in his tracks, even the dog turns around to face you. “A storm's coming, you'll be cold. Here.” Sliding your hands away from Hobie's, you take the blanket from your lap.

“My eyes are bad but do I see you givin' me your coat?” He smiles toothily.

“Y/N—” Hobie warns.

“Yes, but it's a blanket, not a coat.” The man chuckles deeply, cheeks red and warm.

He whistles again, and the dog walks over to you. “Give it ‘ere to ol' Nellie.” The dog wags her tail, tongue lolling.

“Hi, Nellie,” you giggle as you lean down to place the fabric in her mouth. “Take good care of it. Good girl.” Hobie's hand is holding your waist, single handedly preventing you from falling over.

He remembers your kindness, how you don't falter when you see someone you can help. You're unequivocally kindhearted, a stark contrast to himself, and what he has become in those five years he wasn't by your side. He remembers how much he loved and longed for you. He needs to know who sent the letter on his behalf, but it can wait, maybe he'll thank them when he does find them.

You don't notice him look at you with the same expression he had years ago.

With a happy wag of her tail, Nellie skips over to her owner, handing him your blanket. “Thank you, miss, you've got a kind soul.” There's warmth in your chest, nodding towards the man. “You take care now. And you.” He looks over your companion. “Better watch her back and protect her kind soul eh?”

“Get inside, don't want you gettin' my blanket drenched.”

A laugh billows out as he waves you away. Entering his humble abode with a loud bang of his door.

“I think we should listen to him.” You say above the winds.

“We'll be fine,” Hobie's voice is softer. “I've been ‘ere before. Just listen to me, yeah?” He kicks gently, and Bucky takes his cue to run in the same direction again.

“If I listened to you back there then the poor man would've shivered from the cold.”

“And now you'll be the one shivering from the cold.”

“He needed it more than I did.” You almost scoff as you hold on tighter around the horn of the saddle while Bucky trudges downward on the slope and into the gorge.

“Don't expect me to get you a new one.”

Now you scoff. “Then don't.” Yet, your chest clenches from his words.

Buckeye finally slows down halfway through the gorge. Hobie inhales deeply, jade eyes flicking above the rocks. The walls seem to close in on you, fifty foot tall walls of ancient stone looming over you. A stream runs along the path, murky brown water splashing with every movement.

“Why'd you slow down—?” Your eyes widen at the moving figures above. “There's people up there.” You whisper as you watch them observe you. The bows on their back gather your attention, eyes piercing through you than the sharpest of arrows. Hobie suddenly grabs your chin, still gentle but with a sense of urgency this time. He turns your head towards the road, rough leather sliding from your chin to your hands.

“Keep your eyes on the road. And keep your mouth shut.”

“Will they let us pass?”

“Yes.” He says immediately.

“Do you know them?”

“Yes, now keep quiet.” Tipping the brim of hat in respect, you do as you're told. “Or they'll be the one askin' me questions. And we don't have time for friendly banter.”

When he says those words, you hear a whisper of his name from above, then a bout of laughter echoing downwards. Subtly looking over your shoulder, you see him crack a small smile.

You turn back towards the road, a soft morose smile on your lips from how much you've missed from his life. You want to know what happened to him in those five years, to be told stories of his adventures under the campfire. To be part of those stories once more, not whatever you're in with him. An afterthought, a burden.

You're starting to feel all the love he once gave you was just from your mind. Made up by you, dreamt and imagined.

—

The cave you've found shelter in is perfect. It's big enough to house you and Hobie, even Bucky rests inside, dry and happy while his dark eyes follow you— as if trying to keep an eye out for you. The cave protects you from the hammering rain outside and from the lightning that pierces the clouds. You lean on the rocky mouth of the cave, hands reaching outside to cup the rain and feel the sharp water droplets drench your skin. Lifting your head up, you watch the sky. The storm has no end in sight, yet, there’s a bit of light passing through the grey, a ray of sunshine that brings hope, blue peeking in between the dark clouds.

Water splashes against your flesh, cleaning the tiny gashes and dried blood that you're not sure is all from your body. The rope that binds you is soaked, weighing heavy around your wrists like steel bracelets.

Wind howling, lightning cutting through the sky like a bullet through skin— You don't feel his heavy gaze on you.

The roaring fire behind you provides warmth just like the man tending to it. And like the fire he's tending, he realizes that his affection for you still burns him inside out no matter how he tries to snuff it out.

The fire crackles, you watch your shadow dance with the flame's movements. You still don't feel his heavy stare on your back.

With a forced smile, an idea pops in your head. You let the water on your palms fall, flicking away the droplets, making your own patch of rain.

“I've got a proposition.”

“Come eat, smelly” You both speak at the same time, amusement flashes behind his precious emerald eyes that's illuminated by the embers.

"I don't smell." You laugh in between, loving the fact that he seems to be in a better mood. Sniffing at yourself, you scrunch up your nose from the smell. "That much. You're not any better.”

Hobie shakes his head, hiding the curl of his lips with the brim of his hat. He places a can of peaches in your direction. “We'll be in Strawberry by late afternoon. There's an inn there where we can rest and bathe.”

Sitting down next to him but still giving him enough space, you tuck your legs under you, wiggling your hands in front of him.

“Can you untie me now? I'm not going to run, Hobie. Where will I go?”

“Tell me about your so-called proposition.” Hobie raises a brow, teeth biting down and clenched around the leather before fully yanking his glove off. You suddenly feel hot when he unties your hands without another word.

There's no identical ring around his finger. Your happiness is snatched away at the sight of his empty finger. What was once a promise is now gone from his flesh that you used to trace with your own hands.

Clearing your throat, you watch the shadows on the cave walls flicker behind him. “W–we take the scenic route. I want to see the sights the new world has to offer. Before returning.” You don't even want to call it home anymore.

“The new world? You sound like a grandma.”

“You saying ‘state your business’ wasn't any better, grandpa.”

Hobie's eyes meet your own, green eyes aglow. A remnant of the Hobie five years ago. You could get used to this, his warm gaze that soothes you from the inside out, something that you never took for granted before but never thought you'd miss dearly. You welcome it back with open arms. Even if it was brief.

A flash of bright lightning hits outside your cave, startling you, free hand placed on your quaking chest.

“It's just lightning, love.” A freudian slip, a term of endearment that travels you both back in time. Now that he said it once more, he finds that it still fits you like a warm hug on a cold winter's day, or a first kiss, one of many.

Slowly turning your head, your lips tremble, eyes watering from a silent cry. You try to reach for him, but he deflects your touch by twisting around on his seat, taking a swig from his canteen. The only one that he has.

Quietly eating, your insides are yelling for you to hold him close, to be near him, to hug him until the screaming stops. You can't satiate the feeling, it bites at your bones, chewing, eating at you, going hungry, starving. You stand up, leaving the can of peaches on the ground, returning to the mouth of the cave so the feeling will ravage you alone once again like it always has for the past five years. You've survived this long, but there's barely anything left of you now— a husk, barely a speck, so you cry and cry, sobs muffled by the rain.

You don't feel his gaze on you. He feels the same gnawing feeling in his belly, crawling up to his chest, eating what's left of his heart like a vulture that carries all his grief and guilt.

—

You're back on the road again, the ground is wet and muddy. Clay and grass sticking to Bucky's hooves as he trudges along the soil. You purposely don't remind him about the missing rope around your wrist. Loving the freedom the lack of it brings, you brush your fingers through Buckeye’s hair; dark wavy tresses that reminds you of fine silk.

“You take good care of him.”

“You said that already.”

“I know, I'm just saying it again for emphasis. I hope you're taking care of yourself too.”

You feel him shift in his seat, fatigue rattling his bones that's exacerbated by the rocking movement.

“Do you feel alright?” You ask, looking over your shoulder. His eyebrows are furrowed, sweat dribbling from his forehead.

“‘m fine.”

“You don't look fine. Riding bareback this long hurts, we can switch places—”

“It would be better if you had your own horse.” Hobie groans, stretching his shoulders. Buckeye seems to notice the conversation, huffing and staring back at his rider. “‘m not replacing you, Bucky. Not yet anyway.”

The dark horse neighs, a high pitched sound that makes you laugh. “He was not happy with that.”

“He's not happy with anythin'” Hobie shakes his head at the horse, you're amused by the whole situation. “Picky eater, always demanding sugar cubes instead of a carrot or an apple. Fuckin' spoiled.” Bucky neighs again, louder this time, clearly annoyed.

“Just like his rider.” You giggle, Hobie stifles a roll of his eyes, a ghost of a smile on his pierced lips. “Careful with your comments or he might buck you off and have me as his rider instead.”

Hobie's amusement fades, his eyes hardens, a sight that has your heart thrumming loudly, a sight that you're very familiar with back at home.

“I‘m sorry— I–I didn't mean to.” You frantically apologize, shaking your head, hand reaching for his own, palm hovering over his gloves.

“Look ahead.” He gestures forward. “Nothin' to apologize for, love.”

“Are you sure?” You can't seem to slow down your breathing.

Hobie notices, blinking, he tentatively takes your hand in his. Squeezing once, jade eyes searching your hurt face. Guilt passes through him.

He should've come back for you.

“Yes,” he swallows thickly, slowing down Bucky's steps. “Breathe for me, yeah?” You nod, inhaling and exhaling. “Good, keep doin' that.” Inhale, exhale, “atta girl. Now listen to me, I need you to hold on tight, and do what I say.”

“What's wrong?” Did you do something wrong again? You hold on tight just like he asked.

“Eyes up front, sweetheart.” The floodgates open, he can't stop himself from calling you those honeyed names. And you can't stop looking at him. With a gentle hold to your chin, he carefully moves it forward. You see five people waving you over further down the road. They're accompanied by a broken down carriage, three wheels missing, no oxen in sight, just a few horses hitched near them.

They call you over, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh thank God!” You hear them say, their forms getting closer and closer.

“They need help.” You say, Hobie's hand around the reins tightens.

“And we're not goin' to give it to ‘em.”

“What? Why?”

“That's bait, we're not fallin’ for it.” His eyes don't leave the strangers’ hands.

“Bait—? They genuinely look like they need help.”

“We're close to town, and they have horses. They could've gone over there instead of flagging down an armed stranger.”

“I'm not armed.”

“Yes, but I am.” With a swift kick, Hobie guides Buckeye to a mad dash. Your back hits his chest from the sudden momentum. A dull ache on your spine, a tingling sensation on his ribs.

Buckeye passes by the broken carriage, leaving dust in their eyes. “C’mon, Bucky! Get us out of ‘ere, boy!”

Wind in your eyes, you look behind, your heart falls in your stomach when you see them follow immediately on their horses, guns drawn, aiming at Hobie.

“Oh fuck!” A bullet whizzes past your head, missing you by just a few inches. You feel it's hot searing metal fly past, “they're shooting at us! Why the fuck—!”

Hobie twists, with one hand on the reins, and the other on his gun, he shoots down one man with precision. The bullet hits its mark, right in his heart. A fountain of crimson splashes from his wounded body, his feet still strapped in the stirrups, flinging the now lifeless body around like a window shutter in a storm.

Hobie shoots again, a horse falls, another bullet, and one gets iron in their gullet. And another and another, one on the leg and one on the shoulder, but they still ride on. Until Hobie's gun clicks, its chamber now empty, in slow motion, you see the remaining survivors use the opportunity to aim at Hobie's head. With quick thinking, you twist uncomfortably, body stretching behind to grab the hunting rifle strapped on Bucky's back. Within a second, you sit upright with the barrel pointing at them.

Hobie sees it all happen while he frantically reloads. His gun jams from carelessness, heart beating like a snare drum, fingers frantically trying to fix it. The sun is in his eyes as he sees you cock your head over his shoulder, the long barrel of the rifle is placed atop his leather jacket, finger itching to press the trigger.

“Duck.” Your voice is calm as Hobie follows through your command, the firing pin ignites, sparks fly, the smell of gunpowder permeates the air, bullet whizzing and hitting your mark— Right in between the eyes.

Gore explodes from what used to be a head, then a scream from the remaining target. Hobie steers Bucky, whilst you fight. Fight for him, and for yourself.

Pulling the bolt handle, without missing a beat you release the shell with a clink of metal. The remaining man looks at his dead companion in horror, still riding on next to him, now missing a head. Just like they did, you use the opportunity to reload, hand reaching for Hobie's gun belt, taking what you need, reloading with an expert hand. You pull the bolt to place the bullet, pushing it in, you aim once again. At the same time, the man screams, aiming at you. But you're faster.

Inhale. You shoot, hand steady, eyes focused.

A wet squelch can be heard, then a body thuds harshly on the ground as a horse neighs, crying and trotting wildly. You finally exhale. Hobie reins Bucky in, hooves digging in, he stops.

“Holy shit.” Hobie stares at you with a growing smile, cheeks aflame, not from the adrenaline nor the fight. “You can shoot.”

“You taught me.” Your eyes doesn't leave the violence you left behind.

“Yeah, but not like that!” He laughs in disbelief. His heart hammers in his chest, and he remembers all the times he held your hand in his while he teaches you the basics.

“What do you think I've been doing since you left?” You swallow thickly, nerves catching up, hands trembling around the rifle. “My books can only take me so far until I've read the entire library.”

Hobie holds your cheek, face concerned, thumb running along the tear you don't notice slide down your cheek. “Can you look at me, lovie?”

Slowly but surely, you turn your head. “We manufacture guns, Hobie, it's important for me to learn.”

“I know, but shootin’ it at people is different.” He would know, he worked at the same place. “Are you alright?”

“Now you ask me that?” You hand him the rifle, breath shuddering. “Can we go now, please?”

Hobie could only nod, hand itching to hold you again.

—

You finally reach Strawberry, it has a sweet sounding name but it's anything but sweet. The streets are thick with mud, the smell is much better than the other town but it still makes your nose itch. The place is situated on the foot of a mountain, the air is cooler with heavy winds persisting. Rows and rows of establishments lie along the road, a saloon with a balcony on your right, a doctor's office on your left. Convenient, you think.

A brothel sits next to the saloon, women gathered around on the porch, smiling and hollering at the people who pass by. Hobie garners their attention, (who wouldn't be?) despite riding with you on the same horse. He doesn't give them any attention, a disappointment on their part. His eyes are too busy looking over your profile and the inn that's situated on the hill.

You flick your eyes over to him, as if he has a sixth sense, he stares back. “What?”

“Nothing.” You whisper.

Hobie hides a small smile over your shoulder. He stops Buckeye at the front of the inn, hopping off, he hitches his horse first before giving you a hand, surprising you.

Without a second thought, you take his outstretched hand, bare against his leather clad one. You land carefully on the soft ground, cringing at the wet squelch of mud on your shoes.

“I need a bath,” you stomp over towards the porch and out of the mud. Hobie's hand finally leaves your side once you step foot on the steady planks. “And a nice bed.”

“That's why we're ‘ere.” He says while he takes his pack from Bucky's back. Giving the horse a pet and a much deserved sugarcube. He whispers something to the horse, to which Bucky neighs in reply. Stepping on the porch right next to you, the dark horse nods at his rider.

You laugh at them. “What'd you tell him?”

“I promised him a place at the stable so he could get a proper rest. ‘m gonna take him once you're inside.”

“Are you gonna leave me here?” Panic sets in your stomach.

Hobie furrows his brows, “no, ‘course not.” I'd never do that. He thinks, but he already did, years ago. “C’mon.”

Bucky neighs to you this time, tail swishing behind him. “G’night, Buck.” You give him a small wave. “You did a good job today.”

Entering the inn, the smell of pine and something fruity catches your nose. Its walls are all wooden, lined with old photos and animal furs. There's a fireplace in the common area where a couple of people sit and chat by the fire. The place is cozy, it's the first time you feel like you can finally have a nice comfortable place to sleep in since you landed in America.

Hobie knocks on the reception desk, leaning on the table, clearly tired and weary. Whilst you try not to think about what you did earlier, you roam your eyes everywhere in an attempt to push all the thoughts away, to kick the gore you saw, and the act that you've executed far far away from you. Your hand trembles at the sight of a deer head hanging on the wall. Then you remember the man whose head you blasted to pieces. Heart beating faster, breath stuck in your throat, Hobie suddenly takes your hand— squeezing, reminding you to breathe.

Before he could comfort you further, a middle aged man appears behind the desk. Shoulders broad, mustache well maintained and curled at the ends. Blue eyes wide and full of wisdom.

“Welcome to Strawberry inn.” He says in a comfortable yet deep tone. His eyes flick towards your intertwined hands, lips smiling faintly. “The name's Finn, room for one?”

Hobie clears his throat, taking his hand back on his side. “Yes, two beds.”

“Ah, a conservative couple eh?”

“Sure,” Hobie acts, nodding along.

“Name?”

“Larry Smith. And baths for the missus and I.”

Finn nods, showing him a sign on his desk. “three dollars for a regular one, five for a deluxe bath.”

“Deluxe?” You ask, curious.

Hobie beats Finn to the punch by explaining it himself. “It's when a woman helps you scrub down.”

You blink twice in quick succession. “Oh.” Cheeks warm, you awkwardly bounce on your feet. “A–are you going to take the deluxe one, Ho–Larry?”

“I might.” He says with a smirk, eyes shining.

“Okay.” You crane your neck towards Finn, “what's our room number?” Your tone inches towards something that has Hobie amused.

“Uh, three—” You're already snatching the keys from him and then quickly speed walking up the stairs. You turn to the right, Finn calls after you. “Left side, ma’am.” Frustrated, you walk the other way. He then turns towards Hobie with a shake of his head. “Happy wife, happy life, english. Don't tease her like that or you'll end up sleeping in the stables.”

Hobie bites his tongue so he couldn't laugh. “I know that now, thanks, mate.”

—

You feel nice, nicer than you should be after what you did. There's a pebble inside you that keeps growing and growing in the pit of your stomach right next to the boulder that has resided there for years. You have no idea what is, but you want it gone just like how you disappear under the tepid water of the tub.

Hobie has laid out clothes for you, it sits on the chair in the corner. A white work shirt that smells like him and a pair of clean socks. Your skirt hangs on the doorway, days worth of dirt and dust clinging to it. The walls are thin, you hear the hinges squeak in the next room, the arguing couple above; and a child's cry from below. The water laps at your chin, now cold and icy on your slowly freezing skin. Like muscle memory, you hold your hand up, the jagged long scar across the back of your hand has you tracing the remnants of the injury— what he used to do to remind you that he's there, that you're safe. But when he left, when he disappeared into the night, leaving you to the horrid predetermined life, you had to do it yourself. You had to carry yourself everyday with the heavy boulder in your heart, surviving each day without him, hurting, rotting in that damned empty mansion you never asked for.

You thought you could finally take the boulder out of you and place it down once and for all when you saw him. it's still there, weighing you down like a hundred ton steel of grief and longing. You don't resent him for what he did, running away, leaving you when the night before he promised you sweet words, words of freedom, words of an escape. No, you don't hate him. Yes, there's days where you would curse his name, but it never lasts. It never does, even now. You still love him even when he doesn't feel the same way anymore.

Your eyes prick from all the unshed tears, everything makes you cry nowadays, even the old lonesome man you met on the road brought a tear to your melancholy eyes. But you can't seem to find the courage to cry in front of him, to let him see your salty tears flow out of you like a raging river of sorrow. And moreso, you're afraid, afraid of home, afraid of what's waiting for you at the end of the road. Whether it be a coyote with its maw opening to lunge at your neck. Or a rattlesnake ready to strike silently at your open wound.

You're not afraid of him, you're afraid to lose him again to the coyotes and rattlesnakes.

Lifting both hands, you watch the blood that collects within the lines of your palms. Rubies ebbing into your life line, your love lines, and into your death— you'd carry the life you've taken until you're six feet underground, decaying, milky bones turning to dust, food for the worms. And yet, the blood in your hands would stay there, even when your hands are eaten by the soil, brought back to where you once came.

Hobie's right, this place changes you. Molds you into something that can survive its harsh environment, just like the plants you once read about. And just like the coiling vines, the flowers that wait and bite their prey; the leaves that kill when cut— you intend to survive the harshness of it all.

With a deep inhale, you leave the metal tub. Water splashes across the floor as you stand up, the even colder air leaves goosebumps in its wake. You dry yourself and dress like an automaton, movements rigid, eyes blank.

Opening the door with a creak, you're met with Hobie standing in the hallway, just across from you. His hand still lingers around the doorknob, viridescent eyes blinking slowly at you.

For a second that felt like hours, you watched each other. How his eyes flick over your form and over his work shirt that you wear. How water still clings to his chest, soaking parts of his white shirt. And how his finger twitches around the doorknob whilst steam escapes from the slits in the doorway. He observes you with vigilant eyes, how your lips are slightly parted, chest breathing heavily. And how much your legs are begging to run towards him, feet pointed in his direction, heels lifted up slightly, but you don't. You don't run to him, instead, you toss him the keys to the room before he could ask for it himself. He catches it with ease.

“You're closer to the room.” Walking closer, you rub your arms for warmth.

Hobie sniffs, hand wiping a stray droplet from his forehead, pack slung over his shoulder. He unlocks the door that's a few steps away, with a click, he opens it for you.

“You look like you're about to pass out.”

You push past him, trying to smile, but you fail. “I feel like I will in a second—” pausing by the doorway, you sharply inhale. “You asked for two beds right?”

“Yeah— fucker.” Hobie clicks his tongue at the sight of the single bed standing in the room. “I'll go get our rooms changed.”

“I'm fucking tired, Hobs.” You lumber your way towards the inviting bed, too tired to even check the room and its sparse décor. “Complain tomorrow. It's not like we haven't shared a bed before.”

“That was different—”

“How is it any different?” Shucking off your shoes, you blink at him through tired eyes. “It's just sleeping next to each other. We were doing anything but that back then.”

He curses breathlessly under his breath. “Fine, don't hog the blanket.”

“Don't kick in your sleep.” You smile for the first time since you pulled the trigger. Slithering inside the warm covers, you lay your head on the lumpy pillows. Heaven to you after sleeping but nothing on the ground or hay for the past few weeks.

“I don't kick in my sleep.” Hobie does the same, laying next to you, giving you enough space in between. “You're the one who kicks in your sleep. Like a fuckin' donkey.”

You lay on your side, inching closer to him. “Please, I'm more of a mustang, not a donkey.”

“Back then you were more like the rider than a horse.” He jokes with a smug smile across his lips.

Your cheeks are aflame, laugh creeping up your throat. The heaviness in your chest subsides, the blood in your hands thins. “You wanna bet?”

Hobie's joking expression is replaced by something else. Flustered, amused, and a mix of an emotion that he has only felt for you. “Fuckin' hell, love.” He turns away from you, lest he lets his thoughts get to him. “Good night, you fuckin' minx.” He hears you laugh, immediately he wants to turn back around and meet you face to face, just like before. But he doesn't.

You're met with his back. The feeling comes back, like a cockroach that wouldn't die even with how much you try to stomp on it. It was foolish to think that he'd love you forever. It was foolish to think that he'd greet you with open arms after years of being apart. How foolish, they'd always whisper to you, naive, and stupid, always standing on the edge of the crowd, eyes always looking for something, someone. Someone that lays before you now.

“Good night, Hobie.” He mouths your next words like clockwork. “Only dream of good things.” You refrain from doing the next thing, a kiss for sweet dreams, a whisper of the three words to remind him of you in the dreamworld.

Hobie silently wishes you did.

Soon enough, soft snores can be heard from behind him. Peeking over his shoulder, he makes sure you're asleep before quietly standing up. Sheets rustling, he tiptoes over the noisy planks, breathing silent. Hobie takes a chair from the corner, propping it under the doorknob, shaking the chair, he makes sure that it's locked up tightly. He can never be sure with the simple singular lock on the door.

Once he's sure that it will hold up, he takes his gun from the hanging gun belt, checking the chamber, he keeps it on the waistband of his trousers. After checking all the windows and the fireplace, he finally joins you back in bed. Gun placed on the bedside, ready to be used just in case. Laying on his side, he faces you, observing how the moon shines just across your face. You look peaceful, relaxed, and he remembers how much he has missed you. Like an impossible itch. A craving that cannot be satiated. Incurable, until you're within reach.

His tired eyes stare at the glaring scar across the back of your hand. Hobie remembers how you got the scar on your hand, it was warm that day, searing hot whilst you ran into the woods frantically to meet him. As a result of your unmindful actions, a sharp branch takes a chunk of your skin; leaving him to sew it close for you. He reminisces of how your face contorts to pain with every suture, and how you grip his shoulder to tamp down your screams. He wasn't careful, or even thinking about how it would scar, he just wanted to get it over with so you'd stop hurting. He held you for hours after, held you more after your great aunt saw the damage. She called you broken that day.

He blinks and he's back to the present. He can never go back. You can never go back. So he inches his hand closer to yours, pinky brushing along your skin. Finally, he curls his pinky finger around your ring finger. Linking his life line to yours. Just like he always does to the identical hidden ring around his neck. Your scar peers from the side, a reminder that everything that happened before was real. That all those saccharin touches and words were flesh and blood. He wishes he could go back, to take you away the moment she called you broken.

In his sleep he dreams of you.

[hongjoongscafe]

taehyung skinny dipping smut

This one is a very old bitch hours request. I thought maybe I could write some of the pending ones.

Sunset

Bitch hours

Pairing: taehyungxreader

Warning: skinny dipping, public place (with no public around), praise kink, multiple orgasms.

…

“Are you ready?” Taehyung bit his lip as he looked at you with a wide grin.

You hesitated for a few and then returned the grin. “I think so,” you bit your lip.

“Alright!” he chuckles and sticks his thumbs in the seem of his trunks. “On the count of three, okay?”

You nodded, excitedly. Holding the string of your bikini top, “okay!”

“One,” he began.

You pulled the string of your bikini top and let it loose. Taehyung lowered his trunks just a little bit.

“Two,” his voice was giddy as he looked towards the ocean.

You undid the string around your neck, your boobs spilt free as he pulled his trunks even lower, the base of his cock was visible.

“Three!” both of you disregarded your lower on the sand and ran towards the water, laughing because you couldn't believe you had given in to the intrusive thoughts and committed to this with your best friend, who, by the way, had already gone skinny dipping multiple times before and have eaten your ear off trying to convince you to do the same.

The water was cold as it glazed on your feet but you didn't stop until then water was just above your boobs. Your nipples hardened at the cold.

But it felt fantastic. The sunset was pretty, pink and purple. The sun was hidden partially behind the clouds. You gazed at it with a huge smile.

Feeling the presence next to you, you looked at Taehyung who was staring at you with a smile as wide as yours if not wider.

“Do you like it?” He asked you.

“Yes!” something in his chest shifted. He stared at your glossy pink lips as they moved. “I like the feeling of water against my skin. And it’s so b—” Your words died on your tongue as you felt his wet hand cupping your cheeks with tenderness, your heart skipped a beat.

He brought his face closer and looked into your eyes as his thumb caressed your bottom lip. It was all too intimate and right. Without waiting any second, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him. His soft luscious lips pressed against your pillowy ones.

He hummed into the kiss. His hands wandered over your body, feeling each and every curve and crevice of your body.

You deepened the kiss as he let your tongue in his mouth. Your teeth clashed with his and the spit ran down your chin.

You moaned as you felt his big, thick cock tapping on your stomach, begging for attention. You let one of your hands wander down and cupped his cock. Even in the cold water, it was warm and throbbing. He shamelessly grinds against your cold palm, moaning in your mouth.

“F-fuck,” he grunted, as he palmed, and squeezed your ass.

He pulled away from for lips and took in your flushed face. The swell of your boobs was pushing out of the water as you took sharp breaths.

“Tae,” you mewled as his fingers slipped between your legs from behind, feeling your slippery cunt. He pushed his long middle finger inside your hole. “Mm, fuck.” you gasped.

“So fucking pretty,” he whispered as he buried his face in the joint of your neck and shoulder, sucking harshly and then licking the pinkish bruises. He could feel your pussy clench around his digit at the praise. Pulling out just a little, he shoved one more finger into you and scissored your pussy, preparing you to take his thich cock.

Your fingers wrapped your fingers around his cock, your thumb swiping his leaking slit. Your other hand cupped his balls and squeezed them making him moan your name. “Baby, you are going to make me cum so hard.”

Taehyung pulled away quickly hooked his arms under your knees and picked you up. You circled your legs around his waist.

His cock rubbed your core. His eyes were looking deep into yours as he glided his cock on your slit before slowly pushing it in you.

“Ngh,” you gasped. He was huge. None of your exes were this big. Taehyung's cock stretched you open. It was hurting a bit but it was pleasant, and more arousing than ever.

Taehyung's eyes rolled back as your tight slippery, velvety cunt wrapped around him. “So fucking warm. Baby, you are squeezing me so good,” his gaspy voice sent shivers down your spine.

His one hand held you by your hips and the other circled your clit to help you adjust. His lips found yours and kissed messily.

Your fingers threaded through his hair, your nails scratching his scalp. “Please!” you cried.

“Please what, beautiful?” he teased, his fingers hurriedly rubbing your clit, pulling you closer to your climax.

Before you could say something, your body stilled as he pulled an orgasm out of you. Your pussy clenched around him, hard. “Taehyung!” you moaned as you came all over his cock.

You rested your face against his shoulder as he rubbed your back. After a few seconds, you felt Taehyung thrust into you. You hummed in his ear, making him twitch as he heard your slutry voice.

“Come on, baby. One more for me,” he rasped. “I know your pretty little cunt can take one more.”

“Fuck me, Tae!” your legs trembled as he picked up his speed. The tip of his cock brushed against your spongy spot every time he thrust in.

“Rub your little clit for me, baby,” he grunted. His hands clutched your side as he fucked you on his cock. Your hands slipped between your bodies and rubbed your swollen nub, matching the pace of his thrusts. “Yeah! That's it, baby. That's it. Clench around me. Fucking milk my cock good.”

The water around you splashed. Your tits rubbed against his chin. He quickly wrapped his lips around your hard nipple, sucking and licking it.

You felt your loins burn as you came closer and closer to your climax. “I'm gonna cum!” you warned him.

“Cum with me. Let go, baby,” his fingers bruised your hips.

His eyes rolled back as he felt you clench and let go. Your warm cum flushed around him pulling him to his own climax. After a few more sloppy thrusts, he came undone inside you.

You moaned as his cum filled your cunt to the brim. He twitched inside you as he took a deep breath. This was the most intense orgasm you both ever experienced.

After catching your breath, Taehyung chucked, still holding you to his chest, pecking your lips again and again. “We should go skinny dipping more often.”

…..

[byhees]

ruby-red cheeks.

엔하이픈 형선 ・ female reader + word count 1000 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read kissing skinship slight jealousy — more

a/n. scheduled!

heeseung

— having you close to his embrace

given the height difference, he’d relish in the fact that he has to lean forward a tad to catch the words falling from your lips; finds you extremely adorable whenever you get on your tippy-toes, hand softly latched onto his shoulder for stability.

in addition, he absolutely loves leaning into your little bubble of proximity, just to do the most minute things; his eyes would always flicker to meet your own pair, wanting to see the reaction elicited from simple gestures, such as wiping away a stray eyelash on your cheek.

would back you up against a wall every so often, arm coincidentally encasing you in the charm-speckled warmth; will never fail to tease you about your reddened cheeks, hand absentmindedly raising to pat the top of your head.

— mentioning you in nearly every conversation

it wouldn’t be a chat with him without your name being mentioned; he loves to show you off— everything about you is so incredibly breathtaking, and honestly, he finds it a waste to conceal it from everyone’s eyes; likes to refer to you as “my girl”.

is so infatuated with you; it might not be obvious in his reactions, but nearly every single interaction with you has caused his heart to skip a beat; he doesn’t want you to tease him about it, so he dumps it all out onto his friends, going on a lovestruck spiel about how attractive you were doing this, and how pretty you were doing that.

jongseong

— helping you zip up dresses

in his eyes, you’re the prettiest person to ever grace the world; he gets an uncontrollable surge of butterflies in his stomach every time he catches a glimpse of you— without fail.

whenever you step out of dressing rooms, vice versa, he’ll always find himself starstruck, mouth agape, eyes widened, words fumbling out of his lips; doesn’t even hesitate a second to turn you around and zip up the remaining portion of the zipper, hand lightly brushing against your skin.

he’d absolutely shower you in compliments and praises; his irises are practically under a heart-shape filter, gaze dripping with love. his stomach flips whenever he catches you lowering your head to hide the growing red of your face.

— holding your hand

would really like the feeling of your interlinked hands; the warmth encasing his fingers serves as such a delicate reminder of your presence. would climb mountains just to be by your side, truthfully.

would lightly tug on your hand whenever he wishes to get your attention; he does it more often than not, finding that many things remind him of you. at times, he does so because he wants a little kiss.

likes to swing your interlocked fingers in the space between your bodies; walking instantly became one of his most treasured pastimes. just strolling down sparsely crowded paths, lightly pulling the other away from holes in sidewalks, observing birds and sunsets— those bring him so much joy.

jaeyun

— incessantly having an arm, or hand, on you

he simply likes snaking an arm around your waist, fingers softly playing with the hem of your shirt, or simply tracing shapes onto the fabric; he has the biggest, most radiant, smile plastered on his face during times like these.

does so with a protective intent; whenever he spots you in discomfort from prying eyes, he’d wrap his arm around your waist, the silent touch voicing the millions of words circling his mind; when he spots someone insistently asking you uncomfortable questions, such as a date-offer or some form of conviction to give them a chance, he’d do that particular gesture, tongue softly clicking against his cheek.

likes to rest a hand on your thigh, fingers absentmindedly tracing hearts on your skin; finds you so pretty when you’re concentrated on a task— his eyes would linger on your face, a smile softly tugging at the corners of his lips, hand still brushing against skin.

— regularly engulfing you in hugs

would not hesitate to sing out loud just how much he loves hugging you; finds the height difference between you two really endearing. he’d rest his chin on the top of your head, pulling you close to his embrace; has the prettiest grin glued to his face.

would do this thing where he gently tucks loose strands of hair behind your ear, softly brushing locks away from your face; loves to bask in your mesmerising beauty, eyes twinkling with adoration.

has a habit of slightly biting his lower lip when smiling; he finds your entire existence so cute. when you blink up to meet his gaze, lips puckered in the smallest of pouts, face tinted with a pinkish hue, he’s melting; can’t decide if he should simply admire you, or if he should press another sweet kiss to your forehead.

sunghoon

— pulling you close by the loop of your pants

would want to stay close to you as much as possible; gingerly wrapping a finger around the material, lightly tugging on it to bring you close to him. there’s this lovestruck expression smothered all over his features every time he catches you gasp from the gesture, head softly whipping around to meet his eyes.

likes to plant a kiss on your lips after doing so, hands lightly pressing against the sides of your body; he might be blushing equally as much as you are.

does so when he gets particularly protective as well; he wants to shield you from all possible dangers, from smaller incidences like insistent, unwanted flirting, to busy roads; always makes sure to tug on the loop with minimal strength, not wanting you to collide harshly into his body.

— giving you piggyback rides

any time you’re feeling a little lethargic, he’ll get a knee to the ground, back facing you in invitation to a piggyback ride; cares so much about you, disregarding his own exhaustion in the process.

would do it for fun as well. he always feels like he’s soaring high up in the skies, gravity relinquishing its hold on his body, whenever he hears your giggles; will purposely speed up a tad, an arm tightly securing your hold around his shoulders, just to hear you laugh. his cheeks are always painted with a rosy hue afterwards, mind giddy from love.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @crxzs @alyszaen @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[lurkingshan]

Last Twilight Episode 12

A month ago, I never could have predicted that I’d be sitting here trying to assemble some thoughts to explain how on earth this show went so badly off the rails. I am truly taken aback by where this story landed, and I advise anyone who wants to think of it fondly to just pretend it ended at episode 9, and even skip the finale if you haven’t watched yet. Before I get into it, let me just start with a word of praise for the cast, who did a great job with their performances and kept this show afloat when the writing fell apart. And boy, did it fall apart.

In my view, this narrative had three main threads it was addressing: 1) Day’s journey to accepting his disability; 2) unresolved family trauma; and 3) Mhok and Day’s romance. And in the end, it failed on all three of them. I am going to dig into this and I am not feeling particularly nice, so if this is going to hurt your feelings I suggest you stop reading now. 

Day’s Journey

Just…wow. We have been afraid of this turn the entire time and trying to hold out hope that the show would not go there, but here we are. I started laughing out loud when we got to the end of part 3 and Mhon’s phone went off with an alert for a new eye donor, and then just stared incredulously at my screen as we time skipped AGAIN to a Day whose vision had been restored for years (last week I joked to @bengiyo and @waitmyturtles that once a drama starts using time skips it becomes addictive and they never stop, and—welp!). What was this entire show for? Why did we spend twelve episodes with Day grieving his vision loss, learning how to cope, and finally accepting his blindness only to completely undercut it at the end? The first part of the finale was so much about how he was thriving—finding a new career for himself and becoming self-sufficient and growing so much on his own—only to give us an ending that implied he could not actually have his happily ever after without his vision restored. 

And this is in fact the message they sent by coupling the return of his vision with the return of he and Mhok’s relationship, and giving us a happy ending rooted in his contentment at having his sight back. They even went back to the Last Twilight mountain to completely tarnish the thematic resonance of the original scene. Calling back to the beautiful memory of Day “seeing” the sunset and experiencing “a moment so good that you feel like you can live there forever” as he accepted his disability with this scene of him seeing the real sunset with his restored vision was so hurtful to me that I actually got angry. Day didn’t need his vision back to get a happy ending, and I absolutely hate what this communicates about disabled people’s capacity to live happy and fulfilling lives. This show has created many writing sins but this is the most unforgivable to me.

Family Trauma

The show began dropping the ball on this one a few weeks ago, but this finale put the nail in the coffin. We spent most of this episode at Porjai and Night’s wedding, an event that might have felt meaningful if the show had let us see any of their romance. I’m grateful to Mark Pakin and Namtan Tipnaree for their beauty and charisma because it’s the only thing that made me care about those scenes at all. Rather than actually being about them, however, this wedding was used primarily as a clunky vehicle to deliver heavy-handed messages about “second chances” to encourage Day to get back together with Mhok (more on that in the next section). 

I did enjoy the brief nods in this episode to the brothers continuing to have newfound harmony in their relationship, but where the show really lost me was in their attempt to bring Night and Day’s dad back into the mix and imply some sort of resolution between him and Mhon. Mhon, a woman whose perspective on their split we never actually saw, whose motivation for her choices and behavior toward her sons were completely elided by the narrative, who was forgiven and made peace with offscreen during a time skip. I was never given the chance to understand her or what this relationship meant to her in the first place, so why would I care about these scenes with her making her peace with this man? I continue to be so confused about where this show chose to spend its time, and why someone with Aof’s track record on developing strong and narratively important familial relationships dropped the ball so much with her. 

The Romance

Okay, let’s get into it, and remember what I said about not reading if this is going to hurt your feelings! My criteria for considering a romance successful is I have to believe the relationship is mutual, beneficial to both of the pair, and that the couple is prepared to weather future challenges. Last Twilight’s romance fails on all three fronts, and it all comes down to the total imbalance in the relationship that persisted right through the final scenes.

This entire narrative has been Mhok bending to Day’s will, giving Day what he needs, forgiving him for everything, and letting him make all the decisions about the relationship, and the finale was regrettably more of the same. In episode 11, Mhok made a mistake when he lied to Day about turning down the job in Hawaii. But he made that mistake out of grief and fear, and Day didn’t care—he unfeelingly rejected him and his pain and ended their relationship without a second thought. That was potentially forgivable as a momentary lapse borne out of instinctual hurt, and could have been repairable had Day reconsidered soon after and extended Mhok some grace. But in this episode, we find out Day blocked Mhok and refused to communicate with him again after that night, and has left Mhok completely in the cold for three years after he failed to be perfect one (1) time.

And this episode? Was on Day’s side in this conflict. Mhok is the one to return and start pursuing Day again. Mhok is the one to broach the topic of their breakup. Mhok is the one to thank Day for breaking his heart and tell him he did nothing wrong (y’all, I almost threw something at the screen). Mhok’s grief and trauma go completely unaddressed in this finale until they try to play the Rung card for one last moment of sentiment. Day cries to his mother about how he just doesn’t know if he can forgive Mhok. And in the end, Mhok makes the grand gesture, missing his flight to go to Day and stay in Thailand with him despite the successful life he has built in Hawaii.

The cognitive dissonance I felt watching this play out was extreme. I rarely see a writer misunderstand their own characters and relationship conflict so thoroughly. In order to believe in this romance we needed to see Day finally show some empathy for Mhok, take responsibility for his own mistakes, and be the one to make an effort this time. We needed to believe that Day has the capacity to be a supportive partner to Mhok even when he’s struggling. But Day didn’t demonstrate any of that, and so I simply don’t believe in this relationship. I don’t believe Mhok can trust Day not to abandon him again when some other major life event intervenes and Mhok is less than perfect. And that’s a shame, because the show really almost had something here with these two. 

And that’s all I got. What a disappointment this show turned out to be. If you need me, I will just be over here in my little corner imagining the Night and Porjai romcom that we never got and pretending the rest of this show ended several weeks ago.