#i didn’t do this on purpose i just couldn’t find my sunscreen and thought ‘well i won’t be out there that long and how strong can the sun

[fingertipsmp3]

Also I have managed to sunburn one arm and both knees 👍🏻

[loveshotzz]

Wednesday @ 4pm central

🌆 <- chapter nine

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

Because it’s chapter ten, here’s a snippet for you under the cut. Thank you for everything guys, I love you ♥️

The full trash bag next to your front door taunts you, just like the promise you made Steve about taking it out late at night months ago. The fact that it’s the last thing left to do makes it that much harder to walk away from. Gnawing at the side of your cheek you decide not to, he’s not even home to catch you.

The moon’s blue glow illuminates your path while the skyline of the city sparkles below it. The tall buildings shimmer in a way that takes attention from the stars in the cloudless night sky and you can feel how the humidity hangs less thick in the air the more August rolls in. The thin material of your tank top does nothing against the light breeze that makes the bottom of your sleep shorts tickle the tops of your thighs. There’s a chill that didn’t exist before and it makes goosebumps dot across your skin.

Your slides scrape along the gravel from your refusal to fully pick your feet up, and it fights with the sounds of the late Friday night in the distance. You hum a made up tune as the streetlight buzzes above, lifting the lid you jump when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

“I thought I told you not to take your trash out in the middle of the night, especially alone, tough girl.” Steve’s voice erupts everything that’s laid dormant inside you for the past week. Butterflies start to flutter until they’re fighting against your rib cage to get out and your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling before you’ve even turned around.

“Well,” You sigh, dropping your bag in the trash can, “the guy I was supposed to call if I needed anything ditched me for his out of state boyfriend.” Shrugging when you finally let yourself look at him, the view rivals the one that shines bright behind him.

His hair is messy in a way that isn’t purposeful this time, but he looks just as handsome as any other day. The stubble on his jaw is thicker, but not quite like the night he waited at door steps, and god, did you want to feel it against your skin. His big arms sit crossed over a broad chest that’s only covered in a gray tank top. The thick patch of hair always half way on display threatens to touch the base of his neck, the bottom of his silver chain disappears inside it.

His freckles are darker now, easier to find from all the sun he got while he was gone and you’re jealous of the hands that got to rub sunscreen on them, even if they were his own. The black basketball shorts on his legs stop in the middle of his thighs, and it makes you bite at your lip.The greens and golds in his eyes light a match under your skin with the way he stares at you like he couldn’t possibly look away even if he tried.

“My out of state boyfriend huh?” He grins, tightening his hold on his own bag before his Nike slide covered feet crunch against the gravel towards you. His eyes catch the dainty silver still hanging around your neck, the stone shining in the moonlight and it makes his heart swell. Tossing his trash in after yours, he meets your gaze down from the slope of his nose, arching a brow. “What does that make you then?”

He smells like bergamot and cedar, and a lingering hint of a cigar he probably smoked in New York that still clings to his hair. The heat coming off his body makes your fingertips buzz, twitching with the need to reach out and just touch him.

“I dunno, what does that make me Steve?” It comes out shy, a little above a whisper, a question just for him.

[plumsfromyouricebox]

and now for something from the dumpster-fire portion of my imagination:

mike wheeler x max mayfield - 1.3k words

rating: E

tags/warnings: shameless smut, masturbation, mild degradation kink, frenemies, max bullies mike while he jerks off lol

author's note: i don't even know what this is, y'all, it just popped into my head and I literally wrote it on my notes app at 1am. I might post it on AO3 someday, but in the meantime, it's a tumblr exclusive. If you want more madwheeler check me out here!

***

Mike moved quickly as he made his way through Steve’s house, dripping water all over the hardwood floors. He adjusted his towel, clutching it tightly around his waist in an attempt to conceal the situation going on in his swim trunks. 

It was all Max’s fault. Her and that ridiculous new swimsuit she was wearing. 

Every summer since he'd known her she'd always just worn a one-piece. Not even a particularly flattering one, just something sporty in a dark colour with wide straps. 

But now. Now she seemed to have acquired some tiny two-piece thing that was little more than triangles of light blue fabric tied together with string. It barely covered anything. It was absurd. 

He flung open the door of the small, pastel pink basement bathroom and closed himself inside, pleasantly surprised to find that the toilet lid had one of those plush covers that made sitting on it much more comfortable. 

Breathing hard, his fingers tore at the laces of his swim trunks and he inched them down to pull his dick out. He couldn’t believe he had to do this, but this boner was refusing to go away. 

There was some sort of fancy lotion on the counter so he leaned over and pumped a small amount into his hand, spreading it between his palms before wrapping one around his aching hardness. 

For the past hour, she’d been stretched out on a pool float, all freckles and pale skin, sipping Diet Pepsi through a straw as she watched the boys smack each other with pool noodles. 

Thankfully Mike’s sunglasses hid his eyes so she didn’t notice his continuous staring. He had no idea how Lucas and Dustin hadn’t been driven to similar insanity. 

Why, why did the most annoying person in his life also have to be insanely hot? 

It almost felt like she was doing it on purpose today—meticulously massaging sunscreen onto every inch of her skin, diving into the pool and slowly pulling herself out, giving him ample time to get a long look at her ass. 

Closing his eyes, Mike thought of the water droplets running down her body, how he wanted to trace their path with his tongue. 

Then he heard the horrible click of the doorknob turning and his eyes flew open just as Max burst in, her hair wet and skin glistening with moisture.  

“Agh!” He twisted to the side, yanking his trunks up with one hand and covering himself with the other. 

Shit, she’d definitely seen what he was doing. This was so fucking mortifying, he was never going to live this down. 

Then he realized that instead of backing out in horror and leaving him to his humiliation, she was stepping further into the room, closing the door behind her before flipping the lock he’d so foolishly forgotten about earlier. 

Mike watched in total bewilderment as Max leaned back against the door just a few feet across from him, giving him a long once-over. “Well, don’t let me stop you.” 

“What?!” he hissed. “Get out of here, Max! I'm not gonna… do this in front of you.” 

“Why not?” She tilted her head. “You were thinking about me weren’t you?” 

Mike paled. “What? No–” 

“You’re a bad liar.” 

Then, to Mike’s complete disbelief, she casually shifted the triangles of her bikini top to either side, exposing the most perfect breasts he'd ever seen. 

Granted, they were the only breasts he’d ever seen, but he couldn’t see how these ones could possibly be improved upon. 

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head, his erection surging back to life as his mouth dropped open in shock. What was she doing? 

But she just leaned her head back against the door and nodded at his lap. “Keep going.” 

Mike narrowed his eyes. She wanted to watch him? There was no way. She was totally bullshitting—just teasing him so she could laugh at him later. 

Deciding to call her bluff, he tugged his shorts back down and removed his hands, letting his cock rest against his stomach. 

But Max didn’t shriek and cover her eyes like he’d been expecting. She just raised her eyebrows impatiently, urging him to continue. 

Okay… Well, he wasn’t about to be the first one to back down from this little game of chicken. 

Swallowing hard, he took hold of himself again, squeezing lightly before starting to move his hand up and down his shaft. 

“Were you thinking about touching me?” Max asked, chuckling when he reluctantly nodded after a few seconds. “I would never let you.” 

She arched her back as she ran her hands over herself, squeezing her breasts and playing with her hardened, rosy nipples. “What else?” 

Mike was so confused. Was this turning her on? But then why was she still being so mean? And why did he like it?

“I– I think about you sucking my dick,” he confessed, his gaze dropping to those perfect lips that he’d envisioned wrapped around his cock. One side pulled up into a smirk. 

“As if I’d ever put that tiny thing anywhere near my mouth,” she snorted. 

Mike glared at her, slowly stroking his entire length and making sure she saw. He knew objectively he wasn’t small, but he decided to play along and let her keep talking. This situation was bizarre, but it was also inexplicably hot. 

“Maybe if I was somehow extremely desperate I’d sit on your face.” She grinned, blue eyes sparkling with delight. “Just to get you to shut the fuck up for once.” 

Oh, Jesus. Mike couldn’t stop the groan that came from the back of his throat at her words. 

Usually, he found her voice grating, probably because that sharp tongue of hers was often delivering an insult or a joke at his expense. Now he couldn’t get enough of it. 

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? I’d make you beg for it first, though…” She pulled up the sides of her bikini bottoms so he could see the outline of her between her legs. His dick throbbed against his palm. “…for the privilege of tasting me.” 

Fuck. He’d do it too. He’d probably do anything she asked of him if she kept letting him look at her like this; talking to him like this. 

He tightened his grip on his shaft, moving faster and more purposefully, a familiar coiling pressure building at the base of his spine as liquid beaded at the tip. 

“You know how fucking sad this is, right?” 

Mike nodded. He did know. Fantasizing so hard about a girl who barely tolerated his presence that he had to crank one out in their friend's bathroom. He was such a loser. 

Max crossed her arms, pushing her tits up and together in a way that made him want to stick his face in between them. 

“Hurry up and finish already, I'm getting bored,” she stated flatly, despite the fact that her cheeks were stained pink and her breathing was audibly faster. 

His gaze roved all over her body, lingering on her face when he noticed her staring intently at the hand that was working himself to a climax. 

And then she pulled that full, tempting lower lip between her teeth and that was all it took to send him over the edge. 

Her eyes widened as he came over his stomach and fingers with a shuddering gasp, fighting to keep his own eyes open and locked on her. 

Smiling, she lifted her gaze to his with a slow shake of her head. “Fucking pathetic.” 

Then she straightened up, calmly readjusted her swimsuit, and left without so much as a glance back, closing the door firmly behind her. 

After a few seconds, Mike snapped out of his post-orgasm stupor and reached for the tissue box, head spinning as he cleaned himself off. 

He didn’t know what the hell that had been, but he knew he was definitely getting her back for it. 

[luimagines]

Hi! I have a request, but first i wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! The length + amount of time you put into these prompts is insanely good. Now! Onto the request, how would the boys react to a reader from a more modern era? Maybe a more modernized hyrule or our current point in time?

Masterlist

Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm happy to see the response even if this blog is still relatively new.

I hope I do your prompt justice.

I probably could have done a headcanon list but I was hit with inspiration.

I also might have given Reader some backstory.

Scenario below the cut! It’s long, take caution.

It was a cool night, but you didn't mind. Your bed was warm, the WiFi was fast and even if it was three AM on a school night, you managed to keep yourself giggling with cat videos and blursed memes until the words and colors merged.

A night well spent.

But it led to questionable decisions.

Even if the shredded cheese in the fridge was beginning to seem a more and more enticing snack, your body was tempted to succumb to slumber.

Until a large purple light encompassed the entirety of your window.

Something was in your backyard.

Aliens. Your tired brain supplies and you sprint to the glass and push away the curtains. Is this it? Is this where I'm kidnapped and never seen or heard from again?

You pull out your phone and open up the camera.

"Pics or it didn't happen." You remind yourself and snap a few before showing your face.

What you see isn't what you're expecting. Instead of a flying saucer in the sky beaming down a laser or a weird pear shaped space craft on top of the grass, there's a single panel of glowing light, swirling with black accents that creeps in a circular motion.

"Cheese and crackers...." You gasp and begin to blatantly stare at it with no regard to whether something may be coming out of it.

You wait and nothing happens.

You wait some more and nothing happens.

You spend an hour watching this portal that has appeared out of nowhere, waiting for something to happen, willing for something to happen. But you get nothing.

The unknown stares right back at you, unblinking and unchanged.

Go through it. A voice tells you. What if there's something on the other side?

"I'm going to die." You gulp and take a deep breath.

Who else gets a chance like this? The voice talks again. This could be a grand step towards a more modern society. A whole new world could be on the other side, waiting, reaching out, calling to humanity!

You think you a see a shadow move behind the portal and out of sight but it’s gone before you can even process it.

"Should I call the police?" You step away from the window, ignoring the thoughts, the voice- you're too tired to know if it's your own any more. What's the plan? How does one go about something like this?

Where’s your sense of adventure? Pack a bag and go! What if it goes away?

That last thought seems to get through to your tired brain and for a reason beyond your understanding, it latches onto it.

Now you’re excited.

You run to the closet and take out your old backpack. It used to be for school but it was fancier since it was the only one you could get. The bag had a replaceable water bag with a plastic straw connected through the back of it and the straps have just worn down enough to where they’re actually comfortable. It doubled as a hiking backpack and came with its own insulated lunch box that clasped on the back of it.

It’ll finally serve its purpose.

You quickly roll up your favorite blanket and strap it in tightly beneath the lunch box. You’re quick to take out two extra outfits and pack them as well as change out of your pajamas.

Ok. What would you need? You don’t know where you’d be going so this has to a catch all kind of deal.

You pack away your swiss army knife first for good measure. A solar powered charger for your phone and an extra pair of socks follow suit even after you’ve picked out the extra clothes.

You take out the water bag and run to fill it all the way to max capacity as you think of any other necessities.

You’d need food. You have a small jar of peanut butter and granola bars that can fit in the lunch box. You can bring your extra water bottle and put in the side pockets of the backpack, and maybe bring some of those powered flavor packets your brother loves so much. You think he has lemonade and some green tea ones.

Those would be great. He won’t mind, hopefully.

You let the bag overfill momentarily before running back to shove it in your bag. with the lid screwed tight.

Next you run to the kitchen, grabbing the first things that you thought of already and begin to look around for more.

You grab an unopened pack of beef jerky, a bag of veggie sticks and a half eaten bag of dried mangos.

During your search you grab the water bottle and fill that too.

You return to your room with your bounty and begin to carefully put everything in the box. With some more deliberation, you run back to the kitchen and make yourself a quick sandwich, eat it, make another one and pack that as well.

You look out side the window and the portal is still there.

The sun is beginning to rise now so you’re trying to go as fast as you can, unless you want to neighbors to think something is going on.

Even if it is.

You’re about to leave but in a stroke of brilliance, you run to pack sunscreen and bug spray as well. You see a small first aid pack that was bought recently for when you would take your family vacation but you reason that it might one of the most important things you’d have if you got hurt.

Into the bag it goes.

You grab your hoodie before you leave the door, wrap it around your waist and pocket your phone, your headphones and your wallet.

You feel immediately under packed when you step outside and see the portal up close.

It’s weirdly triangle shaped, you think and step closer.

You reach your hand out and try to touch it. It feels as if you put your hand through a humidifier but it’s not wet. It’s misty and cold but not necessarily unpleasant.

An idea hits you right before you take your first step through.

You pull up one of the earlier photo’s you took and send it to your friend’s group chat. It showed up in my backyard. I decided to make a bad late night decision and I’m going through. If you never hear from me again, I want you all to fight over my electronics. Winner takes all. Godspeed.

And you step through.

You had first assumed that it would merely take you tot he other side but very quickly realize that you have to walk through it.

The first part still had a little light but with time, it got darker. So dark that you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face.

You kept walking.

As fast as the light disappeared, it came back and you stepped into the light of an open field, right in front of one, two, three, four, nine males that had appeared to be traveling towards you or rather, towards the portal.

The portal disappears in the process.

“Oh so we didn’t have to go through it! We had to gain another member!” One of them yells. “Would have been nice to know before we packed everything up!”

“Ho boy, where am I?” You ask and tighten your grip on your backpack. Why didn’t I bring a weapon?

They all had long tunics and swords on their backs. Old fashioned leather boots and hand bracers were the norm in this group and you realized very quickly that your jeans and t-shirt had wildly missed the memo.

“Dang, I didn’t think I’d walk into a LARP group. Sorry about that.” You sheepishly smile. “I had no idea where the portal was going to take me. But if you would be so kind-”

“Wait, what’s LARP?” One of them speaks up. He was a dirty blond and somewhere in the middle of the group height wise. He wore a white cape like thing with blue designs on the back but you didn’t recognize the symbol.

“Live Action Role Play?” You tilt your head. “It’s why you’re all dressed like that? Right?”

“This is just our clothes.” What appears to be the youngest bounces up to you. “What are you wearing?”

“First I could grab in my closet.” You admit and look down on it. It’s one of your comfiest shirts and best looking pants. You’re a little proud of yourself for finding those in the dark.

“Weird.”

“We’re heroes. We’re all named Link.” Cape guy speaks up again. “Is it safe to assume that you’re in the same boat?”

“Heroes?” Your eyebrows furrow together. “I’m not a hero and my name’s not Link.”

You’re quick to tell them your name and you watch as the confusion covers their faces. “My brother’s name is Link though if that helps anything.”

“Oh we needed him!” The youngest groans and it instantly irks you.

“What would you need with a five year old?” You deadpan and cross your arms. 

The information stuns the group.

“The portal showed up in the middle of the night and I’m the one that went through it. I’m pretty sure I was the only awake to even see it. Are you telling me that it was for my little brother?” You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little pissed. “My baby brother was supposed to go through it? He was asleep! He’s five. What kind of logic is that?!”

“Well...” The biggest and oldest of them runs a hand over his face. You think he has some cool tattoos and sick scar going across his eye but he looks about as angry as you feel, so you don’t say anything. “It appears the gods truly do not care for the hero’s maturity, only his existence.”

“Ok...What’s with all this hero talk?” You bite back. “What did... Where am I?”

“Hyrule.” The second with cool face tattoos speaks up. He’s got a large fur pelt around his shoulders and you have to tighten your grip against your backpack again to keep from reaching out to touch it.

Even so you feel yourself deadpan even more. “Hyrule? Like the ancient empire? The one that collapsed more than two thousand years ago? That Hyrule?”

You’re inclined to not believe them and write all of them off as crazy... but you also walked through a portal. And your grandma did say that magic existed in the strangest forms.

They all share looks of concern and some begin to murmur quietly amongst themselves but you’re too far gone to even notice.

“Did I time travel?” The idea hits you like a bus and you feel your eyes widen as you stare beyond the group. You quickly take our your phone and unlock it.

No signal.

“Is that a type of Sheikah slate?” Someone asks you.

“I don’t know what that is.” You reply automatically. “Wait, hold on, what year is it?”

“Why don’t you tell us what year you’re from and we can start from there?” The darkest brunette of the group speaks up.

“202x PC” You say robotically, not really processing the world around you anymore.

“That’s...” The blond with a long blue scarf speaks up with a slight hiss. “...Beyond any of our timelines. You see, we all come from different worlds and eras of Hyrule’s history.”

“I don’t think you’re the farthest down anymore, Wild.”

“This would then make them my successor, right?”

“It would make their brother your successor.” Someone amends. “I think they just jumped in his place.”

“Leave my brother alone.” You snap back into the present, pocketing your [hone again. “Ok, you know what, screw it. I don’t know what you’d want my brother for but I’m here now. I’d gladly take his place if it means he gets to stay home!”

“Hey.” A boy with pink hair stalks up to you looking a little more serious than you’d like.

“Nice hair dude, way to defy the gender norms.” You smirk a little before genuinely grinning, hoping to quell the tension. “What product do you use? It looks like Artic Fox but not every place sells their brand.”

“...I have no idea what you’re talking about but what happened to Ganon in your world? How have you been handling it?” He snaps and places his hands on his hips.

“Ganon? Like my old principle? That’s a name I haven’t heard in forever.” You’re confused again. “Last I heard he joined the police force only to be reassigned out of state. I don’t know what’s happening with him. Kinda hope he gets fired though. He’s not a bad guy but he’s not someone you’d want in that kind of position of power, you know.”

“Police force?”

You blinked and look them all over. They look very medieval. “Oh... You don’t have that...”

You begin to think about your history lessons and what they might be familiar with if they’re telling the truth about being from Hyrule.

“Ya’ll got knights?”

Many, almost all of them nod, a few with face of despair already on them before you finish speaking.

“It’s kind of like that. Mixed with a towns guard position... kinda. They enforce laws... at least they’re supposed to but the whole system is flawed and racist and really needs to be dismantled for the abuse of power that they have-”

“Abuse? Of power?” You have their attention again.

“It’s stupid and it won’t really make any sense if I try to explain because I doubt you have anything similar but it’s basically a group of people given the right to treat the public in anyway they like for their own benefit because they have no one telling them that they can’t.” You groan and slowly begin to feel your lack of sleep catch up to you. 

You slowly reach to behind you and sit down on the dirt, looking at all of them. “Mr. Dragmire wasn’t like...Demise or anything but he was a huge jerk. No one liked him. He liked me though. I remember that. I was the envy of the whole school because I somehow got on his good side while everyone else wants to strangle him. I think he was transferred for some misdemeanor or something like that... like he might have been throwing hands with someone he wasn’t supposed to. I never heard all the details. I didn’t really care for it when it happened either. I’m pretty sure he lost that fight though. The dude looked like a blast of wind could have knocked him over let alone someone’s knuckle sandwich.”

“I would love to hear more about this.” The youngest sits next to you with a large grin on his face. His eyes are bright and his body language reminds you of your cousin Zelda. You instantly think they’d get along like a house on fire. “What are your monsters like?”

“Monsters?” You tilt your head. “Be a little more specific bud, it depends on where you’re from.”

“You have that many?!”

“It depends on if you believe they’re real or not.”

“Speaking of monsters, can you fight?” The shortest walks up to you. You like that his tunic is stitched up with multiple colors and designs. It gives it personality, you think. “Do you have a weapon you’re more comfortable with?”

The question throws you off your rhythm and you don’t fight your wince. “What would happen if I say that I do not, in fact, have any sort of weapon on me?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.” Pink guy speaks up again. “That pack is huge, there has to be something in there.”

“It’s food, water and extra clothes my guy.” You lean back against said backpack since it won’t let you lay down with it still on. “Not a lot of space for anything else. I’m pretty good at hand to hand combat though. Karate’s a good way to fight out stress.” 

“Your bag’s not magic?”

“Why the hell would it be magic? ...Are you trying to tell me magic actually exists?” You raise an eyebrow as your eyes begin to close against your will. “I know my grandma said it does but I thought she meant like fairies and shadow demons.. and bigfoot. Can’t forget him, he’s the real MVP... You know...Children’s bedtime stories and stuff like that, it’s not real. But like magic magic? Magic items and the like? Find me Tinkerbell and I’ll show you Neverland, that’s what I say.”

“Are you serious?”

“Second star to the right, straight on till morning.” You respond.

There’s a moment of silence as the group in front of you processes your words. It’s hard to tell their reaction since you’re not looking at them but you no longer have the energy to do anything else.

“Are you falling asleep right now?” It’s the one they called Wild.

“I...” You try to open your eyes. They don’t budge. “I haven’t slept in nearly 20 hours... I think. I might have past 24 hours a while ago actually. Portal showed up at like four in the morning... I had to get up at six and I didn’t sleep at all before then.”

More silence.

“Great another one.” Someone scoffs.

You snort.

“Why did we pack up camp again?”

“No one kill me.” You say right before you lose consciousness. “Please and thank you.”

“They’re doomed.”

“Have some faith Vet. They stepped in for their little brother. That has to mean something?”

“They’re in for a rude awakening, and that’s all I have to say about it.”

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Robot Jon! ☺️

(ok, I've been off tumblr for a few days, but I went on early this morning and had an ask with a bunch of prompts because I said I'd be taking a break from my Bachelor fic - which is true, if not for another 3 chapters yet. I haven't answered that ask because I'll lose it and therefore the prompts, but it reminded me that I still had two prompts left from when I asked for them back in... December? I'm the worst. Anyway, I re-looked at those prompts, saw this one, and then couldn't stop thinking about it. So I'm coming out of my vague tumblr hiatus to write this.)

Thank you, as always, for the prompt!

.

Sansa has never liked amusement parks.

The sun that always burned her, no matter how diligent mom was about reapplying sunscreen; the fried food that always made her sick; the crowds and the noise and having to walk everywhere. But the worst part was the rides – oh, she didn't mind some of them, like the Ferris wheel or the teacups; she could even handle the swing ride. The problem was that the rest of her family wanted to go on the horrible rides – roller coasters, haunted houses, swinging ships; the ones that go fast and drop you from a million feet in the air. And since it was hard enough wrangling the amount of children in their group to begin with, it was impossiblefor one adult to split off with Sansa, who alone wanted to ride the gentler ones.

And so, it's sort of ironic that she works at an amusement park now.

She may not have a taste for most of the rides in the park, but she is good at designing them – not the actual rides, but the aesthetics of them. It's her (and her team's) job to come in after the engineers and the builders and take a bare-bones ride and turn it into an experience. She loves her job – she loves watching children exit one of her rides with glowing faces and excitement in their eyes.

Today, she also gets to do one of her favorite aspects of the job, which is costume design. The animatronic models have already been installed, and when she enters the new Dance of Dragons ride, she can already see the scene taking shape in her mind. The concept art has already been drawn up, it's already being advertised – a medieval world that everyone knows is meant to capitalize on the stunning success of the Aemon the Dragonknight series (which her employer does not own the rights to, much to their dismay). But concept art is one thing – reality is another, and it's not until the ride is complete that she can start to truly see it come together in her mind.

“Oh good, you're here,” Margaery Tyrell sighs dramatically as she comes to meet Sansa's team. Margaery is in charge of Marketing and PR for this ride and Sansa knows it's a big responsibility, so she's been even more high maintenance than usual. Margaery walks her through the ride that Sansa has seen so many times in drawings.

“This is our Aemon,” Margaery slaps a hand against the shoulder of one of the animatronic models. “Although we can't call him Aemon. Copyright and all that.”

Sansa looks at the robot and she's struck for a moment how lifelike he is. A lot of the animatronics aren't this detailed, though she guesses this one is because of how close to the ride it is.

“He's handsome, right?” Margaery flashes her a grin and there's something in her eyes that Sansa can't quite place. (Well, she can, it's mischief, Sansa just can't tell why it's there.)

“I guess, in the way that cartoons can be handsome,” Sansa laughs and takes another look at the model – the somber grey eyes, dark curly hair, and an equally dark beard. “You even gave him abs,” she points down at the robot's chest which does, indeed, have a very detailed set of abs. “Am I supposed to leave him shirtless?”

“Oh, no, obviously we want realism, like we talked about,” Margaery waves her hand dismissively. “We just couldn't help ourselves when we put in the order.” Sansa shoots her a confused look, which only gets a delighted laugh out of Margaery. “I'm guessing you don't recognize him?”

“Recognize who?”

Margaery gestures at the animatronic. “Jon!” At Sansa's blank stare, Margaery rolls her eyes. “Jon Snow?”

The name sounds familiar and it takes her a second to place it. “The engineer?”

“Duh! Seven hells, don't tell me you've never actually seen him?”

Sansa shakes her head – she usually comes in well after the engineers have done their part.

“Mormont let him take the lead on this project and he's so... ugh,” Margaery makes a noise that's half frustration, half delight. “So serious all the time. But somehow likable? It's infuriating, really. And no one should be that attractive for a nerd.”

“So... does he know you made him into a robot?”

“He does not,” Margaery grins. “We're all just dying for him to come in for an inspection and see it. In fact,” she pulls out her phone and checks the time, “if you wait around for a bit, you'll get to see it happen.”

Sansa shakes her head and they continue on through the set, Sansa writing down notes in her trusty notebook that she always carries with her. Lists of costumes, set pieces. She'll need to bring in Asha later to discuss the lighting options (right now the dark ride is lit with spotlights, giving the whole place a surreal atmosphere).

Margaery eventually leaves her to it and Sansa loses herself in going over the set inch by inch with Gilly and Mya following along with her. She's so lost in thought that Mya has to shake her arm to bring her back to reality, and they turn to see a group of what has to be engineers standing in the main Great Hall set.

“Oh come on, Jon,” Margaery is giggling as a man who must be Jon stands, staring at the animatronic. He's scowling at it, hands tight around the pile of binders in his arms that are... well, ok, Sansa can understand now why Margaery made the robot so well muscled.

Sansa edges closer to the scene, and she can see that his fellow engineers are laughing – one of them is red-faced from trying to hold it in while another is actively wiping tears from his eyes.

“It's already made,” Margaery says in response to whatever Jon had grumbled to her. “Replacing it would be an irresponsible waste of funds. Oh! And here's the team that will be styling you... I mean, styling not-Aemon because that's copyright infringement.”

Jon looks up and the scowl drops from his face.

“This is Sansa, Mya and Gilly are over there.”

“Hi,” Sansa greets and Jon shifts his binders into one arm and then holds out his hand for her to shake (she can feel her face heating up and she hopes the dark hides it). “I promise to try and do you justice.” She regrets her words immediately, especially when she sees a slow grin spread over Margaery's face. “Though it doesn't totally look like you,” she continues on to try and backtrack. “It... doesn't have glasses?”

She wants to sink into the floor in embarrassment, but the gods are not that kind. At least she doesn't spout out how much she likes his glasses. Maybe Margaery is right – no one who clearly cares so little about their appearance should be this attractive. His beard needs a trim, his outfit is painfully unstylish, his hair is pulled back into a bun. All of it should add up to something she hates, but she just... doesn't.

(And honestly, Margaery's description of nerd isn't so far off the mark, but Sansa finds this isn't a detriment – in fact, she might be more attracted to him because of the glasses and the multitude of thick binders organized with labels and tabs that he's got tucked under his arm.)

“I'd also hope real Jon isn't built like a Ken doll,” one of the other engineers barks out a laugh and points at the animatronic, which, yes, does not have any reproductive anatomy.

“Gods,” she hears Jon whisper, and the hand that he had used to shake hers comes up and covers his eyes. “This is a nightmare.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Margaery sighs and pats him on the shoulder. “Now, why don't you take Sansa around and make sure she's really taken care of, hmm?” At the words, Sansa feels her face heat even further and Jon drops his hand from his eyes and glares at Margaery. “I just mean,” Margaery grins, not even trying to pretend the innuendo wasn't on purpose, “it might help the design if she has a good understanding of the mechanics. I know there's some new things on this ride we haven't had before, you could show her.”

Jon opens his mouth, but doesn't get a chance to speak, because Margaery barrels on. “Sam, Grenn, you can chat with Gilly and Mya while that's happening. And I... well, I'll just be over here, minding my own business.”

With that, Margaery walks away and the other two engineers – Sam and Grenn, she guesses – head over to where the rest of her team stands, watching from afar.

“You don't have to,” Sansa starts, but Jon quickly turns from glaring at Margaery's back to her and his face settles into something less... scowly.

“I don't mind,” he says quickly and maybe it's the low lighting in here, but she thinks the tips of his ears are red.

“Perfect,” she gives him her best smile, which seems to throw him even more off balance and... and she thinks she could get used to throwing Jon Snow off balance.

[mctherofdragons]

In the Afterglow | 1 | F.W.

moodboard by @minty-malfoy​.

Summary: The reader is married to George Weasley, and for all intents and purposes, he is the perfect husband. But, despite her best efforts to resist, Fred presents temptation she never knew she’d fall for.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem! Reader; George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Alternate Universe: No Voldemort AU

Rating: Mature, Future Chapters will Feature Explicit Content

Trigger Warnings: Angst, alcohol, cussing, mild sexual content

Author’s Note: I want to start off by thanking @oh-for-merlins-sake​ for being my sounding board for the past several days as I’ve prepared this fic! Also, to @sunflwrnarry​ for giving me an opinion on whether or not to go ahead with penning this. I cannot tell you how much this idea lives in my head ABSOLUTELY rent free. This might be my favorite fic I’ve written to date. PS: I have a taglist! Let me know if you’d like to be added for this story, all Weasley twins content, or for all Harry Potter content. Thanks loves!

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

August 15th.

Summer mornings always felt particularly comforting. However, the mornings spent on a beach vacation felt especially wonderful. Heading out onto the balcony, you smiled contently, taking a sip of the coffee you had just brewed. George, your husband, was inside still asleep. The night before had been quite tiring as you’d spent all day on the beach before returning to your hotel to play board games and drink. It was the annual vacation you, your husband, and his brother took. It provided days worth of laughter and a much longed for break from the daily grind of work. Occasionally, Fred would bring a lady friend along, but not this year.

You worked for the Ministry of Magic, using your academic skills to contribute toward the greater good of Wizarding society. Meanwhile, your doting husband and his brother worked tirelessly in their joke shop. They actually fared quiet well, despite never completing their classes at Hogwarts. George was able to spoil you to absolute bits. Your wedding had been charming, complete with a send off of blue butterflies before you entered the reception. Everything about your marriage to George was a fairytale.

You watched the waves lapping against the shore. The smell of sea salt and wet sand tickled your nostrils. You pulled your tan cardigan closer around your torso, noting that it was still chilly in the morning, despite it being August. The silence gave you time to reflect on the beauty of the past two years. It felt as though barely any time had passed since you kissed George at the altar, vowing your forever to him. You had developed a calm and comforting rhythm to your life together. It consisted of cozy mornings with your cold feet touching beneath blankets. Your nights would end with dinner together and then finding some sort of movie to watch. You never felt thrilled anymore, but in a way, that’s what you had always dreamed of.

Settling down comfortably in the deck chair, you opened up the novel you’d been reading. Just then, the deck door slid open and your husband walked out. His red hair was messy from sleep and his voice was still raspy, not yet fully adjusted to the morning. He bent to kiss you softly on the head.

“Morning, Mrs. Weasley,” he smiled, moving to lean against the balcony railing. He crossed his legs and took a sip from his coffee mug. His nickname for you always made you smile. You adored it, because you were still head over heels about the idea of being his wife. George was safe and strong. He loved you in the ways other men had failed to. His adoration was clear through bouquets of flowers that would show up on your work desk, lavish birthday presents, and the sweet nothings he whispered to you in bed. George was never pushy. He never spoke out of turn. In fact, you couldn’t even recall a time he had raised his voice at you. George was - as a husband - predictable.

“Mr. Weasley,” you chirped back, turning to the next page of your book. You two sat in silence for a while. George watched the waves crash into the shore, thinking to himself that this was bliss. Even if he wasn’t at the beach, he reasoned, it would be paradise because he was with you.

The sliding glass door opened again and Fred appeared. “Mornin!,” he announced, stretching.

Fred was quite the opposite of George in a number of ways. You knew of Fred’s romantic escapades, which often ended in him bedding girls in his flat. He sometimes had a short temper and still lived on the high of getting into bits of trouble - even as a grown man. His spirit was more untamed. Where George craved peace, Fred strived for adventure. You would be lying if you hadn’t sometimes thought about what Fred would be like as a lover. But then the guilt would hit you. He was your brother-in-law, for Merlin’s sake.

“How do you have this much energy in the morning?,” George chuckled, watching as Fred sat down in the other armchair.

“I just like the beach,” he shrugged, looking over at you. Placing your book onto your lap, you glanced over at Fred. His brown eyes twinkled back at you affectionately. You and Fred had always been close, even before you started dating George. It was Fred that you had befriended first at Hogwarts. But of course, where one Weasley was, there was the other. Fred was thrilled when you began to date George. He thought you were - as he put it - ‘a total fucking catch, George’. Fred had even helped George pick out your engagement ring. He was over the moon to have you as a permanent part of his life - for you to finally and officially be a Weasley.

You looked out at the beach, eager to get some sun and finish your book.

“Then, let’s go.”

_______________________________

George had made the choice to stay at the beach house, wanting to hit the golf course. He had begged Fred to join him, but his twin was craving some time in the sun and surf, so he declined. George grumbled a bit as he packed up his golf bag. He tried until the very last minute to get Fred to come play at least a round but it was to no avail.

You were lying on your back, trying your hardest to catch some color. The normally dreary days at home wouldn’t provide the tan you wanted. Fred was walking back up to your umbrella. He had gone down into the water for a while. You realized then that you probably should reapply your sunscreen, but couldn’t reach yourself.

“Hey, Freddie, can you get my back?” You had thought nothing of it. Fred had obliged, picking up the tiny bottle next to you.

Fred knelt down in the sand, sitting back onto his heels to keep from tipping other. He squirted a bit of the sunscreen into his palm, rubbing it together quickly to warm it up. You had to press your tongue to the roof of your mouth to keep from gasping as you felt his calloused hands hit your bare back. He was being painfully slow, moving to massage the sunblock into your shoulders. The man’s concentration seemed to have drifted from assuring you didn’t get burnt to making you feel good. Fred kneaded a bit and that time you couldn’t resist, letting a tiny gasp escape your lips. It was painfully obvious that you had been wound up tight due to work and it felt incredible to feel your muscles loosen up.

Fred’s fingers danced beneath the strap of your bathing suit and you felt your heart rate quicken. He took a moment to run his finger across the thin, damp strap. You swore you heard his breath stop for a moment. You shook it off, assuring yourself it was you who was making this into something it wasn’t. Just then, he slid his hands down to the center of your spine before getting dangerously close to the elastic of your bikini bottoms. Neither of you were speaking, and for some reason, you felt a familiar feeling between your thighs. Shit, shit, shit, you thought. Thankfully your head was laying in your arms, face down, or else Fred would no doubt see you blushing.

“Okay that’s good, Fred, thanks,” you said quickly, moving so his hands were no longer on you. You couldn’t tell if the sun had reached its brightest point or if you were sweating because of your brother-in-law. But either way, you rolled back over to stand up, leaving Fred confused as you headed out toward the water to distract yourself.

•·················•·················•  •·················•·················•

October 31st.

George was standing up front at the cash register of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, counting the nightly deposit. Halloween was always a particularly busy day as both old and young wizards alike grabbed their last minute bits of mischief.

You were sitting in the back room, giving Fred your opinion on his Halloween costume.  Each year, the Weasley twins put on the best Halloween party, complete with costumes, outlandish decorations, and overflowing fire whiskey and butterbeer. Getting an invite to the Weasley Halloween Bash was something highly sought after. Therefore, the twins always made sure their costumes were up to snuff. Fred was close to you, showing off his ensemble for that night. A black velvet cape was draped over his shoulders, complete with a white button up shirt and black pants.

“What is it you’re supposed to be?” You cackled, adjusting the middle button on his shirt, which he had overlooked. Fred swallowed hard as your hands touched his abdomen. You noticed how as you laughed, your eyes locked on one another. You diverted your eyes quickly, cursing the butterflies that were some reason threatening to burst in your belly. The redhead stepped back a little, doing a little twirl so that his cape swooshed.

“A vampire!,” he sounded exasperated, using his hands to gesture to himself. You cocked your head to the side, figuring he just didn’t have the makeup or fangs on yet. It was decided in your mind that once that was all done, the costume would look much better.

“It looks great, Freddie,” you finally conceded and he grinned.

“I’m going to vuck your vlood,” Fred joked, wiggling his fingers as he leapt closer to you. You shrieked, jumping back as he attempted to begin tickling you. Once you had both stopped giggling, Fred began to speak again.

“What are you and George going as?”

“Pirates,” you said excitedly, clapping your hands together. Fred rolled his eyes.

“I know you picked that out.” “I always pick. George is horrible at decision making, and if I’m being honest, his ideas are sometimes quite stupid.”

The bells on the back door jingled as George entered. “Oy, we getter get going if we want to set up for tonight,” he said to you, coming over to wrap his arms around your waist. A smile graced your lips as he planted a loving kiss on your cheek. He smelled like warm cinnamon - the perfect addition to fall.

_______________________ 

 You descended down the stairs, your heels clicking with each step. Fred was at the bottom of the stairs, busying himself with filling a tray up with some sort of side dish. He heard you coming and turned, his jaw going slack.

You were wearing black fishnets complete with thigh high leather boots. Your dress was candy apple red with a tight black corset. It left little to the imagination as it showed off the perfect teasing amount of cleavage and sat just below your bum. The look was complete by a black pirate’s hat and flawless makeup, which you were certain to spend at least an hour on. You had taken the time to curl your h/c hair as well, which lay perfectly on your shoulders.

“Aye, aye, captain,” George gawked, coming around the corner. His costume was a little less detailed, but none the less fitting to match yours. You giggled as he swept you up in his arms, giving you a few kisses on your face. “Please make me walk to plank tonight,” he whispered in your ear, giving your lobe a little nibble. You giggled, pushing him off a bit. “Now, now, sailor. We have company,” you gestured to Fred, who appeared to be blushing redder than your dress. You ignored it, pushing back any thoughts that began to stir in your mind. You had hoped, somewhere deep down inside of you, that Fred was just as taken by your look as George was.

Fred had doctored up his costume quite a bit, adding eyeliner smudged around his eyes, a bit of face powder, and some fake blood below his lip. He had gelled his hair to look more Victorian, too, which gave the perfect finishing touch. “You look awesome, Fred,” you remarked, giving him a pat on this shoulder. You began to help finish the snack table. The tension could be cut with a knife, you noted. There was something different between you and Fred ever since the beach. A lust hung in the air whenever you two were in close proximity. It was enough to strangle you, and the worst part was, you were convinced it was all in your head. It was bloody wrong, too, you had told yourself.

_________________________

 The night went off without a hitch. Ron and Hermione had shown up, dressed adorably as a cop and a robber. Ginny and Harry had come, too, of course, wearing their most ghoulish ghost bride and groom attire. Even Draco Malfoy and his wife Astoria made an appearance. Dozens of other witches and wizards had passed through the night, sharing in the imbibing and laughter of the evening. By midnight, the party had thinned out. For those in attendance with children, trick or treating was over now, which meant it was time to return home.

You had had quite a few shots of fire whisky, which had now left you sleepily sitting on the couch. George had gone up to bed due to the fact that the shop would still be open in the morning and it was his turn for the morning shift. You yawned, stretching out to lie down. Fred was still over and he sat down, pulling your boots to sit on his lap. This closeness normally would be nothing but platonic, but tonight the tension began to rise again. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you suddenly felt a wicked dizziness in your head. Your heart felt like it had risen into the bottom of your throat when Fred began to talk.

“You know, y/n, I’ve always thought you were very, very....gorgeous. Even when those stupid, snotty Slytherins would pick on you in school. Too beautiful for me, but perfect for George,” Fred was mindlessly watching a horror movie you’d put on the television. His words were slurred. “And tonight, I mean talk about a smoke show.”

“Thanks, Freddie,” you smiled, thankful for the compliment.

“Do you ever wonder...what if it would have been us?”

The question caught you off guard and you sighed a little, looking up at the ceiling. “Sometimes,” you had never admitted it out loud. But it was often that you did wonder - what if you had fallen in love with Fred instead of George?

“My feet hurt,” you allowed the words to tumble from your mouth. You were never one for a filter when drinking, either. It was just one more thing you and Fred had in common.

“Lemme help,” Fred whispered, reaching over to unzip your leather shoes from the top of your thigh to the ankle. He pulled each of them off, and then looked up at you. He placed on hand at your ankle and ran his hand up to your thigh, feeling the fabric of your fishnet stockings. Again, he ran his hand down your leg. He cleared his throat, clearing coming unglued by the feeling of your smooth legs and the course, patterned fabric of your fishnets dancing beneath his hand. Instinctively, you allowed your legs to open, tempting Fred to move his hand up further. But just as he moved his hand toward the inner part of your thigh, you swung your legs around and sat up.

You bent over quickly, grabbing your shoes and standing up. “You should go, Fred,” your throat felt dry. Nothing happened, you told yourself. You’re overreacting. He was just helping you take your boots off.

“Right, it’s late,” Fred said awkwardly, standing up and grabbing his keys off the coffee table. He didn’t drive, luckily, because it was apparent the he had also had a few too many beers.

[To Be Continued.]

[clefairymuke]

daydream | chapter two

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairing: armin arlert x reader

themes: college/modern au, slowburn, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, smut

tw: recreational drug use, drinking, explicit sexual content

word count: 1420

After a groggy and disoriented awakening on Jean's couch, you and Armin were in his car, stopping at the drive-through of a coffee shop. You were both in your clothes from last night; you glanced over at him from the passenger seat every now and then. His blond hair was messy, even spiked up in places, some of it falling into his tired eyes. The blue flannel shirt he had rolled up to his elbows the night before now hung loosely unbuttoned over a worn black t-shirt, extending to his wrists past the light blue bracelet that adorned one of them.

His voice, though drowsy, was still soothing and lilted as he recited your order from rote, his fingers tapping absentmindedly on the steering wheel to the beat of the soft pop song radiating from the speakers. The air infiltrated the cool floral-scented atmosphere of the car, leaving you to breathe a mixture of that and the warm, dry air that populated the outside. You hoped it wasn't this dry at the beach.

The first drink of your coffee coaxed your eyes open as you tasted the sweet vanilla cream and bitter undertones. You watched as Armin sipped languidly from his own cup, one hand grasping it and the other draped over the top of the wheel. You weren't the biggest fan of driving, nor were you the best at it. It had become almost a given that he would be driving wherever the two of you went; you often joked about what you would do when the two of you no longer lived on the same campus.

That thought always seemed funny to you, in that you couldn't possibly imagine it. As long as you remembered, Armin was a constant positive force in your life. You were stuck to his side from the day you met, defeating the most terrifying of playground monsters and braving the toughest scholarship essays with a grip on his hand and a smile. Some would call the two of you codependent, but you called it love. Friendship that persisted over any amount of years was the purest form of love, in your opinion -- it's a person's first found family experience. And it was with that undeniable force that you loved him.

Your long-harbored romantic feelings for him aside, of course.

"Are your bags already packed?" he asked you, finally taking his lips from the coffee once it replenished his energy enough to carry a conversation.

You hummed affirmatively, checking the time on your phone and rolling your eyes at the white numbers that read 7:46. "We just have to stop by my building real quick. What time are we heading out?"

"Well," he began, putting his coffee into the cupholder and running his fingers through his hair in a failed attempt to straighten it out, "we were all supposed to leave at 8:30. But you know as well as I do that everyone didn't jump into action as soon as I woke them up this morning, so they'll probably head our way around noon. Me and you, though? We're grabbing our stuff and leaving now." He was grinning from ear to ear, thoughts of your time on the beach likely elating him. It would probably never stop being his favorite place.

The car slowed to a stop and Armin put it in park along the sidewalk that led to your building. The card scanner blinked red twice before it finally accepted you, the door swinging open to reveal many flights of stairs; luckily enough, you resided only on the second of ten floors. You entered the room, the smell of the half-eaten cheeseburger on Sasha's bedside table invading your nostrils. Your bags were stacked haphazardly atop your yellow-clad twin sized bed; Sasha's bags laid empty on the floor. At least it wasn't unexpected. You walked to your side of the room and dug some shorts and a tank top out of your drawers, changing into them and tossing last night's clothes into the laundry basket. You popped into the bathroom and threw your hair into a loose ponytail, then brushed your teeth, taking your toothbrush and tucking it into the side pocket of your backpack.

You quickly retrieved your luggage, dragging the one that rolled behind you as it clanged down the stairs loudly and embarrassingly. When you reached the door and opened it yet again, you saw Armin leaned against the open trunk of his crossover, phone in his hand and clearly playing some sort of game. He noticed you as the sound of your suitcase rolling across asphalt grew loud enough to catch his attention. His hand was soon extended out in front of you to take the two bags that hung from your left shoulder; you handed them to him, feeling the weight the large totes finally leave you. You loaded your rolling suitcase into the back, then returned to the front to reclaim your seat as coffee Armin shut the trunk.

The next stop was Armin's dorm; it was less than a mile from yours -- one of the more quaint buildings on campus, with only five floors in total. Unluckily enough, however, Armin lived all the way on the fifth. By the time he got back, you thought, you would need another coffee and maybe even some breakfast. You considered the options for breakfast within the immediate vicinity. The food was unmatched in college towns compared to normal cities of the same size. Any meal or craving you had, there was always something around to make you decently happy at the very least. You considered what Armin's choice would  be, your mind bouncing back and forth between iHop and Waffle House.

You figured this trip would be like the many that came before it; you and Armin would meet everyone there, all riding in Sasha's minivan to avoid paying parking for five separate vehicles. You would listen to endless amounts of music to fill the time, stopping every few hours or so to grab a snack and stretch your legs until the final stop at your home for the week finally came. You would all make plans to hit the beach or a seafood restaurant and fuck around for a while, before finally retiring for the night to get some rest before the tiring week ahead of you.

This time would be slightly different. You and Armin, at this rate, would be arriving around 4 that afternoon, while your friends wouldn't be there until the late evening. There would be four or so hours where the two of you could enjoy the vacation alone without the interruption or input of the others. You liked it that way, more often than not. You and Armin fell so frequently on the same page that it was difficult to disagree. Whatever was fun for one of you was always enjoyable for the other. You theorized that you would change straight into your swimsuits and catch the beach in the evening when it was a bit cooler and less crowded, then find a place to eat dinner. You doubted your friends would still want to go out after such a late drive. Afterwards, you would return to the house to wait on everyone, maybe having a drink or turning on a movie for a while. It sounded peaceful enough.

You saw Armin leaving the building, now dressed in a colorful short-sleeve button up and what you assumed were swimming trunks, as you doubted he owned any shorts with little blue fish covering them. He was wearing dark aviator sunglasses and flip flops, his previously messy hair now brushed down -- it was still messy, but in an on-purpose way. You watched as he carried both a suitcase and a woven beach bag that held several Arlert-approved essentials such as sunscreen and large, tie-dyed beach towels. You giggled a bit at his excitement, as if it were anything new. The beach turned him into no more than a child, the sparkle in his eyes never dying until the drive home.

He loaded his things into the back carefully before returning to the driver's side and pulling the door open. He practically jumped into the car and buckled his seatbelt, eyeing you to buckle yours as well. You obliged, and he reached for the radio, turning on more of the soft bedroom pop he so often listened to.

"You ready?" he asked as he put the car into drive, a smile on his face.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Hibiscus Kisses {1}

Chris Evans x OFC Ajali Rambaue AU {Ah-Jah-Lee, Ram-Bow}

Warning: Plot Heavy, Cursing, 

Words: 6.1k

Summary: Ajali decides on a rash decision to go on a Disney cruise, not for her love of Disney, but because she needs time to figure things out after things get even more complicated in her complicated life. She only expected peace, quiet, tropical drinks, and an overabundance of Disney songs. What she got was more than she bargained for when the cruise of a lifetime on the brand new ship Enchantment turned into a nightmare. The only saving grace is that she’s not the only one living through the nightmare. Can Ajali survive the test of a lifetime and the dangers ahead of her, and better yet, will she finally be able to live a little?

Note: Hey, hey, hey, guys! So here we are trying something different/new. I hope you enjoy this. 🤞🏽 Please feel free to tell me what you think. I’m super excited to explore this one with you all. 🤗 Also, what do you guys think of the title? What does it make you think of?

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

I appreciate each and every one of your guys’ support and love!

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Very Interactive**

***French Language Incorporated w/translations according to Google***

“Yes, mom, I packed my charger and my vitamins. Oh my god, of course, I have my scarf. Mom!”

 Your mother continued to press you about things any woman would never forget packing. This was how she was normally. Almost morning, she would make her routine calls. First to your sister Atali, then to you. When she made it to you, she’d ask if you ate, and of course, by the time she called you, you were usually at work or on your way to it, and you wouldn’t have eaten. Then she’d ask you why you hadn’t eaten, to which she’d go back and forth with you about the importance of eating a well-balanced meal. Somehow that would lead to her asking how you expected to find the one when you didn’t eat enough. It was a never-ending thing with her. She was obsessed with you and your sister finding the one.

You understood. Your parents had been married for well over two decades, and they were still disgustingly in love. There was also no one like your dad, so you understood. They both saw what a catch they both were. After she told you the story of how she finessed your dad and got married in record time, it always turned into focus on you finding someone to marry. No matter how many times you told her that even though marriage was great and all, you weren’t in any hurry, it never registered.

 “Mom, I have everything I need. It is just supposed to be a two-week cruise.”

 “You’d be surprised the things you realize you left once you’re at sea. Then it will be too late,” Cynthia, your mother warned.

 “Then I’ll just buy it. Mom, I’m not going to the middle of nowhere. I am going on a huge ship from one of the world’s most reputable companies. I am positive they have every possible thing I could want to buy onboard. Plus, when we dock at ports, I’ll be able to buy much more.”

 “You’re always buying. Gah, I blame your father. He spoiled you and your sister rotten.”

 “I am not spoiled. It’s not like I haven’t worked for my money. Yes, daddy helped me set up my company, but I got where I am today because of me,” you professed.

 “I know, sweetheart, you don’t have to preach to the choir. All I’m saying is your daddy’s wealth only helped spoil you and Lali more. I saw it in you at the playground the most. You always wanted what the other kids were playing with. If it was a ball, you tried to take it. If it were the swings, you’d overtake it, toys in the sandbox my goodness those kids would end up with sand in their eyes and you alone with the toys.”

 “Some would call that persistence, hardworking, and assertive.”

 Your mother laughed then tsked.

 “I’m surprised that when you were in high school, I never got a call about you getting into a fight because you stole some girl’s boyfriend.”

 You pursed your lips, but as you were going to open your mouth to respond, your phone vibrated, signaling a notification.

 “Hang on, mom.”

 You thanked the Lyft driver for helping with your bags then checked your phone.

 MSG Javii: I’ve been calling you all night. Come on, Chaton (kitten). You have to talk to me at some point. Tu me manques (I miss you).

 You sighed and rolled your eyes. He had some nerve, you thought.

 “Ajali, hello!”

 “Yes, mom, I’m here. Sorry. I was getting my bags together.”

 “So, you’re really doing this?”

 “Yes, mom. Why wouldn’t I?”

 “Who goes on a cruise alone? What about the man I heard in the background of our call a few weeks ago? Why not go with him?”

 You rolled your eyes again, thinking about that man in the background a few weeks ago who was on your shit list.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was the tv,” you lied.

 “Ajali--,” your mother began before you cut her off.

 “—Plus, mom, it’s a Disney cruise,” you stressed.

 “Exactly. The people who go on Disney cruises are families, wives, husbands, kids. You are neither of them and have nether of them.”

 You balanced your phone on your shoulder and rolled your luggage toward the designated pier.

 “I just need some time to myself to clear my head and destress. Two weeks.”

 “Ignore your mother, my petal. You take the time you need. I’ve told you, and your sister working is important, but living is just as important. You don’t live to work; you work to live,” your father said.

 “Thank you, daddy.”

 “Plus, maybe you will find a worthy man on this cruise while you’re living,” your father slid in.

 “Oh god, not you too, daddy.”

 “We are unified in this, Lulu. He may wear the pants, but I control the buttons and the zipper if you know what I mean.”

 You tasted vomit in your mouth.

 “Eck! That is disgusting, mother. On that note, I gotta go.”

 “Wait, wait, enjoy yourself, my petal. We love you.”

 “Love you too, daddy, love you, mom.”

 With that, you ended the call and continued to walk toward Pier eighty-one. You passed families with rowdy children who looked like they couldn’t wait to get ice cream wasted, couples who looked as if they couldn’t wait to get to their suites and even elderly couples who were dressed to the nines for vacation, including already applied sunscreen and sunhats. Despite what your mother thought, Disney cruises were for everyone.

 You’d purposely chosen Disney because you didn’t want to be around other couples who were loved up and nauseatingly adorable, spewing love in the air. You wanted to be as far from that as possible. Love was the last thing on your mind. You were going on this cruise to get away from it. Your phone vibrated and went off twice.

 MSG Atali: Have you made your getaway yet?

 You stopped rolling and went to reply.

 MSG: Almost. I’m walking to the boarding line now.

MSG Atali: I think you’re doing the right thing. Space and time. In two weeks you’ll know what you want to do. I hope it’s what we talked about.

MSG: I know, Lali, I know.

MSG Atali: Have some fun too. It’s Disney.

 You could picture her face as you read it. She was probably cheesing at this very minute.

 MSG: Thank you for looking after the company while I’m gone.

MSG Atali: Boo, you know it’s my company too, right. Don’t worry; our clients will be taken care of. I’ve got it covered.

 You knew she did. Atali was the older one and had always acted like it, even though she was only nine months older. You knew she could take care of things on her own while you were away.

 MSG: I know, still. Thank you.

MSG Atali: You’re welcome, Lulu. Call me later. Margaret Bailey’s appointment is next. Apparently, she’s throwing some party, and she wants to be the envy of everyone.

MSG: Eck, you have your work cut out for you. Bye.

 As you were putting your phone away, another message came in.

 MSG Javii: Chaton (kitten), call me, please. Don’t you think you’re dragging this out a little?

 You almost said, “are you stupid” out loud. The man had some nerve. Dragging it out? You rolled your eyes as another message came in.

 MSG Javii: Je t’aime (I love you).

 Just like that, you melted. He was playing on the fact that your father was French, and the language itself was a favorite of yours. He was not a stupid man; he was a smart businessman.

 MSG Javii: I’m sorry. I know we’ve talked about it, but you have to give me more time. Please.

Unbelievable, you thought as you exited your messages and stuck your phone into your back pocket. You turned and ran smack dab into someone’s hard body.

 “Shit. I’m so sorry,” you rushed out even as you were falling back.

 A pair of strong arms grabbed you and firmly held you, preventing your fall.

“It’s okay, you’re lucky I don’t mind beautiful women bumping into me,” a deep masculine voice said. You knew it was a man, but you couldn’t see his face even though he looked to be well over six feet. His head was dipped low, and the hat he wore over hair that fell to his neck was so low you couldn’t see anything but the full beard that showed off a chiseled jawline.

 He set you right side up and slowly brought his hands from your arms back to his side. “Stay safe out there,” he said before he walked off.

 You stood there for a few moments, then looked back to where he’d walked and watched him saunter away. He had a slight dip to the way he walked that could either be seen as a happy go lucky type of thing or something that said he had some sort of swagger. Before you stared any longer, you sprang into motion with wheeling your luggage to the growing line to board the ship. Thankfully the line went quickly thanks to the ten different lanes that had ship staffers ready and eager to help guests.

 When it was your turn, a friendly-looking woman with a trendy bob cut explained what to do. While she talked, her smile never fell, but you didn’t really pay attention because her uniform was so distracting. She had on a purple and green hat that had mermaid scales and Ariel printed all over it. This hat matched the shirt and skirt combo she wore. Her shirt was two-toned, on one side was Ariel’s face, and on the other was mermaid scales while her skirt was plain white. It looked like The Little Mermaid threw up all over her. You didn’t expect anything else; it was a Disney cruise after all.

 After doing all the check-in steps, such as handing off your rolling luggage to the ship porters and taking a photo for your provided identification wrist band that the crew will use to identify you and your indicated needs, you boarded the ship. All the friendly faces you passed all looked happy to welcome you to Disney Cruises and to direct you to where you wanted to go. The noise inside was much louder inside than it was out. The kids that looked excited outside looked downright jubilant inside as they posed for pictures with life-sized Disney characters and got welcome ice cream treats.

 You were even tempted to take a picture or two, but you decided against it. What you did not decide against was ice cream. You took an offered vanilla cone and kept on your way, looking around the ship as the other guests did. From your research, this was the best-rated cruise this year. It was a newer Disney ship and one that cost over ten million dollars to design and build. Everyone said it was the Rolls Royce of Disney cruises.

From what you saw with the décor looked to have cost a fortune. There was glass, fancy lights, and marble everywhere. It was clear they didn’t skimp on funding and clear that they had the comfort and luxury in mind. There were plants around the central atrium that gave off that tropical vacation vibe and even paintings and pictures hanging on the walls that further pushed the agenda that this was supposed to be a fun time for all.

 The more you walked around looking at different areas, the more you were impressed. If the gathering areas looked this upscale, you were even more excited to see your suite.

 “Can I help you with anything, ma’am?”

 You shook your head and smiled at the man wearing Hans all over him. “I’m all right, thank you.”

 The next thirty minutes or so were spent walking around while following the map in your hand. You found and noted where the spa, library, on-ship garden, movie theater, bowling alley, tropical setting wave pool, and best restaurants and bars were. You had every intention of soaking up all the luxury that you’d paid top dollar for. When you saw a few amenities that you hadn’t expected, your jaw dropped. You had no idea why there was an ice skating rink or an indoor sky flying dome that had the tallest clear tube you’d ever seen. You didn’t know who’d designed this cruise, but you knew it must have cost millions. You were sure you wouldn’t be getting in that sky flying dome.

 When you finally got the alert that your suite was ready, it was well after one in the afternoon. The walk among the crowds was noisy. Everyone was either talking about what they wanted to do first, how enormous and beautiful the ship was, or making a plan for the cruise duration. In between all the chatter, there of course, were the screams and cries of babies and toddlers who were already losing their shit.

 This is what you’d expected when you decided on this Disney cruise over another like Carnival or Norwegian. You knew that the other passengers would be of a specific age range leaning on the younger and family-oriented side, which meant you wouldn’t have to fight off unwanted suitors who tried to shoot their shot. It also meant that you wouldn’t have to deal with any sort of drama that usually happened on a cruise with young adults all looking to hook up. That was not what you needed right now. You wanted to stay as far away from hooking up or eligible men that had blue eyes or a perfect head of hair, or abs that were chiseled by Michelangelo himself, or an ass that would make a mannequin jealous.

 On the elevator ride to your floor, you caught the eye of an adorable little boy with a complete head of luscious dark locks and doe eyes with an unmeasurable depth. His smile was innocent. Every time your eyes met his, he hid behind his mother. When you looked away, he looked back at you. After two or three playful back and forth glances, which had him becoming more adorable, you surprised him by not looking away. When he realized it, his squeal was so childlike and filled with so much glee that everyone on the elevator had to giggle. Over the next several minutes, the passengers on the elevator got off group by group until it was just a few people remaining.

 “Sixth floor,” the elevator attendant announced.

 You made your way through the door but gave the adorable boy a look. “Have a fun cruise, cutie,” you said with a wink before the doors closed with the sound of his giggles. You looked at your phone to remind yourself which room was yours, then glanced at the numbers on the wall that directed you where to go. The dinging sound of an elevator brought your attention down the hall to your right to see one man walk off. His hat was dipped down low, but you noticed his face was buried in his phone before he turned and walked in the opposite direction of you.

 Focusing on the signs on the door, you walked down the left side of the aisle. It didn’t take you long to realize your room was at the end of the hall. Once you reached it, you glanced back to see the same man with his tipped low hat. It looked like the same man from before outside the ship. It couldn’t be, you thought. The odds were not that small. As you opened your door, you saw him disappear into the room at the opposite end of the hall.

 Once you walked inside, you immediately thought that this was what you got when you had Atali handle the arrangements. The theme of the room was clearly sky blue. The couch in the living area was a satin, silky sky blue that looked as if it was plush and comfortable. It matched the blue and grain colored carpet before it perfectly, and the abstract blown glass art on the wall. The colors all worked together to give you a sense of peace. It wouldn't have been something you’d chosen because, unlike Atali, you liked to keep things as low maintenance as possible. Just because your family had money doesn’t mean you had to look or behave as if you did.

 When you walked into the bedroom portion of the stateroom, you saw your suitcases waiting for you in the far left corner of the room. The sunlight pouring in from the screened balcony bathed the room in a beautiful, cheerful yellow that was so inviting that once you kicked off your shoes, you had to step out into it. The temperature was not blazing hot because it was just the middle of April in New York, and that meant a mix of chilly and warm days with the occasional possible snow shower. The salty air of the sea was one of your favorite smells. You remembered when your father took your family to France on your yearly family vacation. As a child, you loved the beach and the salt of the sea. When you became an adult, nothing had changed.

 Not realizing how long you remained on the balcony, an intercom announcement came on.

 “Attention passengers, this is Lucas Albright, one of your captains. It is with great pleasure that I welcome you aboard this Disney Enchantment Cruise.”

 He paused, and you could hear the uproar of cheers and claps from over the intercom as well as in the halls and neighboring staterooms.

 “We are all excited to host you on this two and a half week christening journey from New York. I say christening because you lot are the first to travel on this brand new ship. This is her maiden voyage.”

 More cheers and applause came for what felt like forever.

 “We will be on this beautiful vessel for two days, at which time we dock in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic at approximately eleven o’clock in the morning, where you can enjoy plenty of the excursions and activities for the day.”

 Again applause followed. Everyone was undoubtedly excited about this cruise. You tried to get out of your funk and onboard the excitement train.

 “We will then set sail again, leaving port at ten o’clock that evening and moving on to two days at sea until we reach our second destination of Port of Grand Turk in beautiful Turks & Caicos. At that time, we dock at eleven 0’clock and lift anchors at ten o’clock. From the beautiful Turks & Caicos, we will be at sea for two days until we reach the tropical breezes of the British Virgin Islands!”

 You were already making some mental plans for everything you wanted to do at each port.

 “After spending out eleven o’clock to ten o’clock time there. We set sail to the glorious white sandy beaches of—Arrrruuuba!”

 At that time, the classic Beach Boys song Kokomo came on at the Aruba part. It was so corny, but everyone seemed to love it. You shook your head as the short clip of the song played loudly until it was lowered to play in the background.

 “Again, we’re docking at eleven o’clock to set sail again at ten o’clock. We are then at sea for three more days until we get to Ocho Rios, Jamaaaaica!”

 As he spoke, you went around the room, placing things you’d need and freshening yourself up. When he finally finished giving the itinerary, you were situated and checking the schedule of events for the day. All in all, it was set to be an action packed seventeen days at sea. Atali must have chosen this length because she knew seven or ten days would not be enough time.

 “All right, ladies, gentlemen, kids, and big kids, I hope to see you all at the welcome mingle we’ve scheduled to begin within the next twenty minutes or so, at which time we will lift anchors and say sayonara to New York and aloha to the seven seas.”

 He had a voice for radio or a game show. It was velvety deep, just what many women seemed to like these days. You grabbed your phone and crossbody bag and walked out of your room. You had a mission before you lifted anchor. Everyone was still abuzz with talk of the itinerary as more of the beach boys played over the ship speaker system. Vacation vibes were in full effect. Once you got to the media area, you promptly purchased your airtime so your cell would be able to work while at sea. You knew your mother would have a heart attack if you went two days without checking in with her. You didn’t think it was because she was that attached to her children though, you knew it was her motherly duty to remain up in the tea, so she felt continuously connected. As she got older and older, you realized it more and more.

 As soon as that mission was completed, you made your way to the top deck where the mingle was being held. As you stepped out into the sun, you marveled at just how extravagant Disney had chosen to go with this ship. Several feet before you stretching obscenely high into the air, you saw something that looked like a rollercoaster. There were plenty of other passengers pointing to it and excitedly chattering about it. You made a mental note to stay as far away from it as possible. Who would think to ride an insanely high rollercoaster on a cruise ship in the middle of the ocean?

 Slowly you walked around the deck, cordially smiling at those you passed. You passed a bar area and took one of the prepared cocktails, and proceeded to find a good spot at the side of the ship to watch them lift anchor. After several minutes of searching and bumping into all the excited kids and passengers who were posing for pictures with friends, family, and Disney staff, you found an excellent spot to press your back against.

 Across the way, a familiar hat caught your eye. It was him, you thought. He always kept his head low and tried to steer away from big crowds. It was strange to you considering he’d chosen to get on a cruise ship filled with hundreds of people. He wouldn’t be able to escape the crowds. Your eyes followed him as he walked to another bar to grab one of the drinks there. As he did, he joked with the bartender, and it was then you saw a flash of his pearly smile. You couldn’t tell if he was attractive or not, mostly since all you’d gotten were glimpses of pieces of his face. Part of you wanted him to take off the stupid hat so you could be sure, but the other part—the sensible part that remembered why you’d chosen a Disney cruise slapped your ass back into focus.

 “Welcome, Disney guests!”

 In response, everyone around you screamed, clapped, cheered, and stomped so loudly the sound could have rivaled that of a rave.

 “We are pleased to welcome you once again!”

 As one of the staff members continued to speak about the ship procedures, expectations, highlights, amenities, and more, you continued to look around the deck, taking in all the grandeur before you. It didn’t take long to get lost in the directory you held. Again you took note of where everything was that you wanted to experience and even went as far as to make a plan of what you wanted to eat each night. Between you and Atali, you were the planner. You liked things to make sense and liked them to be stable and constantly reliable. You hated the erraticness of people and impulsivity. You always tried to steer as far from it as possible.

 By the time the speeches were finished, you’d had three drinks and were working on your fourth. The vibration of your phone brought your attention to it.

 MSG Javii: Chaton?

 You rolled your eyes and sighed out a little louder than you intended. What attracted you to him in the first place was what was annoying you right now. His persistence. You sat in a nearby seat and stared at the text exchange and thought of what you wanted to reply. Five minutes passed with you not typing one word. The truth was you didn’t know what to say. You were that jumbled up. The stress of it all was making your head hurt. You rubbed your brow and began your message.

 MSG: I need some time away.

 Instantly a message came back.

 MSG Javii: From me?

 Bobbing your head from side to side, you tried to make a quick decision.

 MSG: From this—us.

 MSG Javii: Chaton, say what you mean. You know I prefer directness. Do you mean from me?

 MSG: Yes.

 A few minutes passed before he sent another message. You wondered if you’d hurt him. Part of you didn’t want to hurt him, but the other part wanted him to suffer and see what it was like to be without you. Maybe then he’d start appreciating what he had.

 MSG: I just need to figure some things out.

MSG Javii: Are you breaking up with me, Chaton?

 The name was killing you, and you were sure he knew it. Every time he called you “chaton,” it made your belly flutter.

 MSG: I just need time and space, Javii.

MSG Javii: I love you. You know that, right? I love you more than anything.

MSG: If that were true, I’d be there right now instead of where I am. I have to go.

 You closed your messages and sighed out again.

 “Mm, I can easily read that expression, and if any man causes brow or forehead wrinkles, he isn’t the one.”

 Your head snapped to your right to see an older woman sitting there. She wore a straw hat atop her long red hair that looked close to that of Lucille Ball’s. The hue of her hair complimented her bronze and gold complexion. Her makeup was expertly done, as was her purple painted nails that pinched the straw that was at the corner of her mouth, a mouth that was painted perfectly accentuating her cupid’s bow lips. She was gorgeous.

 “Uh--,” you began as she continued.

 “The only one who is worth it is the one who gives you cheek wrinkles and smile creases.”

You grinned to yourself and took a sip from your glass that was resting on the table between you.

 “Trust me. I’ve dated plenty of men, ones who cause both, ones who cause one more than the other and ones who only cause one—the bad ones.” She motioned to the space between her eyebrows, symbolizing stress wrinkles from furrowing your brows.

 “I have yet to meet one who only causes smile creases,” she finished.

 You shrugged and looked glanced back to your phone before you put it on the table face down.

 “Maybe that one doesn’t exist on this Earth,” you countered.

 “A skeptic, I see. You’re one of those women who don’t believe in the one, right?”

 After scoffing, you looked at her. “I don’t know what I believe. Once upon a time, I did then---things got complicated.”

 The woman placed her drink down and nudged her fist underneath her chin, giving you her complete attention.

 “Oh, complications are the joys of life, darling. Nothing is ever cut and dry or so simple and steady. I say go for the ride but make sure you hand on for the bumps.”

 You contemplated her words. There was some logic there, but once she said nothing was simple or steady, you had to admit your heart skipped a beat. You hated when things weren’t simple. You took your glass again and finished its contents. At the same time, your eye found the man who’d caught you maybe an hour ago. You watched as he walked closer to where you were seated and caught another glimpse of his face before he passed you.

 From beside you, you heard the woman whistle.

 “I wouldn’t mind going for a ride with that one.”

 Your laugh was loud and couldn’t be stopped. You shook your head at her, but she didn’t look one bit embarrassed or remorseful.

 “It’s a cruse darling, a vacation. Now’s the time to live a little—or a lot,” she said, finishing with an exaggerated wink.

 This woman was inadvertently suggesting you let your hoe flag fly for the duration of the cruise. She reminded you of your aunt Josephine from your father’s side. As a French woman, she definitely embodied the French lifestyle of only living once and to live life right the first time. You’d spent countless hours with her listening to her stories of her travels, boyfriends, escapades. You and Atali always loved to live vicariously through her. That was until Atali came of age and decided to live just like her.

 You sat with this woman who introduced herself as Genevieve and listened to her stories of life and love. Usually, you hated speaking to strangers, but she didn’t feel like one. She felt like a kindred spirit, a much more carefree spirit but still kindred the same. You didn’t realize that two hours had almost passed with the two of you sipping cocktails and giggling. When you said your goodbyes, you wandered around the ship, taking in all it had to offer. You peeked in on activities that were already underway and scoped out other places you could disappear in.

 You made it back to your room in time to shower, change, and put on a lite layer of makeup before you made it to dinner at one of the forty restaurants. Once you walked into the restaurant, the atmosphere screamed luxury though it was not opulently done. It still looked family-friendly, but it was done in a way that let you know that you were meant to feel important by the décor alone.

 At the bottom of the long stairs, you quickly looked around, trying to find an empty table. When you’d zeroed in on one, you saw a hand waving you down—the hand of the same woman from before, Genevieve. Why not, you thought to yourself before you began to cross the dining area toward her. Within a few steps, you ran right into a body that felt like a brick wall. You could feel your body falling backward, but in the nick of time, a pair of strong, muscular arms wrapped around your back, holding you in place.

If his face had been eluding you all day, it was not anymore. The eyes you stared into were blue enough that the sea you sailed would be envious. His lips were so red that an apple would want a rematch for bragging rights and his face so symmetrical that even the perfect line of symmetry didn’t seem perfect enough when next to him. The man was gorgeous. You watched his eyes roam your face as if he was in no rush, wanting to take in every detail. What felt like minutes was probably only seconds before he set you upright. As you were prepared to speak, he smiled, and the action had you feeling like you’d been hit in the head at the same time as your gut.

 “Twice in one day. What’re the odds? Are you okay?”

 Rather than speaking, you nodded.

 “Are you sure?”

 “Yes, thank you. I’m—I’m sorry,” you stuttered.

 “Nah, forget about it. No harm, no foul.”

 From behind him, you could see Genevie giving you a look that said she wanted to know what was being said and who he was.

 “I uh—I was going that way,” you said, nodding your head to behind him.

 “And me that way.” He nodded behind you. “Stay safe out there,” he uttered before he walked off in the direction you’d just come from, giving you the opportunity to walk to Genevieve.

 The look on her face needed no words to along with it, but she still spoke.

 “Is that the same snack from before?”

 You nodded and nearly snorted out, hearing her use the word.

 “What’s his name?”

 “No idea, but I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before. I just—can’t place it.”

 “I don’t know how. I’d never forget a face like that.”

 She had a point; he had an unforgettable face, one that stayed with you and possibly could haunt your nights. You bet he got whatever he wanted and whoever he wanted. As dinner progressed, you had your choice of different appetizers, entrees, drinks, and desserts. If one wanted Scandinavian food, they could get it, or southern food it was within reach. As you ate, you listened to more of Genevieve’s stories. She told you about the men she’d dated, the things she’d seen in her years, and lessons she’d learned from those men. The moral you learned from her stories was love often, love hard, and love entirely because while you’d remember the pain, you’d remember the love more.

 As you ate and listened to her, you couldn’t help but think of the reason you were on this cruise in the first place. You were not running to love but from it. If you were to listen to Genevieve, you should have stayed your ass in New York and gone to Javii. If you listened to her, you’d probably spend another year living in sin. By the end of dinner, you’d met three other women all within the same age range as you, but they all were in different times of their lives. One was newlywed, and on her honeymoon, the second married a year and expecting her first child and the third long married with three children.

 It was an interesting look at alternate timelines for you. Any of them could have ended up being you if you’d only made different choices. Part of you wondered which one you wanted to be more, your natural self, or one of the three possibilities.

 After dinner, you made your way to one of the theaters to watch the planned show for the night. It was a re-enactment of The Little Mermaid, and the audience was filled with little ones who clapped and cheered throughout. You were surprised at how well the staff performed. They could have easily been true broadway stars. A little more than halfway through the show, you found the stranger with the deep eyes across the room. He was sitting alone, just watching the show with a relaxed look on his face. He looked as if he were genuinely enjoying it. Your curiosity was piqued as to why he was sitting alone watching The Little Mermaid on a ship full of people and why he didn’t seem to be bothered to make acquaintances. Who came on a cruise alone? Once you thought it, you wanted to laugh at yourself. You were the one to come on a cruise alone.

 As you were about to look away, his eyes found yours. At first, they looked empty as if he were looking right through you. Then after a few moments, there was a spark in them. You watched him raise his glass to you with a soft smile teasing his lips. Realizing you’d been caught looking, you curtly nodded back then looked to the stage to focus on the show.

 Two in the morning. That was the time when you finally made it back to your room. Festivities were going on all around the ship. No one seemed as if they wanted to go back to their rooms. There was something for everyone. The little ones had endless activities, including a sleepover with their favorite Disney characters, where they were set to have plenty of fun for the night. There was a mixer set up like a rave on the opposite side of the ship for the adults. From the things you saw when you scoped it out, you were sure a few siblings were going to be conceived tonight.

 As you scanned your bracelet and opened your door, you looked back to see the stranger again. He was looking directly down at you. You gave him a head salute and disappeared inside your room. After a quick shower, you found your way to your balcony to watch the waves roll by with a glass of wine. It was the perfect end to the night.

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[pinky-the-elephant-room]

Shoot your shot

♡ AN: I got around to writing for Haikyuu! again and this time it’s for Oikawa, can you believe I hated this man so much that I ranted to my friend about him for a hour? Now I’m writing a smut for him the growth we love to see it~ I’m an anime only person and I know some spoilers so ignore any inconsistencies you might see because this is an anime only canon fic. 

♡ Oikawa x Brazilian Fem Reader : Playing beach volleyball is a cinch no problem right? But the sight of you in a bikini is too much to bear and having a hard on while playing volleyball is hardly convenient. So when Oikawa sees you in nothing but a towel in the locker room he decides to finally make his move on you. 

♡ Warning: Explicit shower smut with 27 year old Oikawa, voyeurism, semi public sex, and maybe a daddy kink at the end? Read at your own discretion. 

✯ ✯ -------------------------  ✯ ✯ 

➢ Portuguese translation

⇢ Y/N, você está aqui? - Y/N, are you in here?  

⇢ Sim, ainda estou aqui - Yes, I’m still here.

⇢ Fode me o meu amor - Fuck me, my love. 

“Yoohoo! Lucas, how you been?” Oikawa said, stretching out his o’s.

His Argentinean teammate said something, but the reception was terrible.

“Hold on! Let me take this outside.” He stepped out of his air-conditioned flat out into the humid air.

The voice garbled a few more sentences before it became clearer. “C-can you hear me now?”

Oikawa grinned hearing the familiar voice. “Yeah! What’s up?”

Though, he will always cherish his memories with his former team in Japan. Oikawa was now connecting with his national team as well as creating bonds and chemistry on par with his friends back home.

“Alright, amigo, I just did you a huge favor. You’re going to love me and I’m demanding more of that milk bread from you.”

He felt the familiar irritation every time someone claimed his milk bread. Oikawa only shared his milk bread with his teammate because he never tasted the magnificence of the treat. He almost suffered a heart attack when Lucas asked what was so good about bread.

“No promises, but I’m listening,” Oikawa replied as he looked over the night sky of Bueno Aires, it felt gratifying to know that a Japanese boy from a small town now lived in one of the biggest cities in Argentina.

“You remember telling me to help out with your little crush on Y/N, right?”

He rolled his eyes and pouted, “I don’t recall asking for your help! I just asked if she was single. That’s two different things!”

Oikawa remembered when he first saw Y/N at the 2021 Tokyo Olympics, he had been ecstatic to go home despite representing another country. It was his debut performance on a world stage. So, he walked around Tokyo for a while before heading back to his hotel to prepare for his match. When Oikawa turned on his T.V., he noticed it was the Women’s volleyball finals between Brazil and the U.S. It seemed like the Japanese women didn’t make it. He watched for a few minutes absentmindedly before he got distracted by player 24 from Brazil. She was the ace and was quite short, but it seemed like the average height for the female players. She was quite good, stealing point after point from their opponents. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. But rather her amusing victory dance each time she gained a point for her team. Y/N would obnoxiously dance in front of the net making her opponents furious.

Oikawa grinned childishly; he knew she was doing it on purpose as the U.S. team started making amateur errors as the gap between the two teams widened. It was a good strategy, one that he himself used on opponents that irritated him like his former kouhai, Kageyama. But his involved taunting, not twerking in front of his opponents. He didn’t think he would look half as good as she did.

From there, it was mere curiosity as to who the player was. She was quite pretty with her long curly hair and golden skin. He didn’t think he would meet her the very next day as she chatted with Lucas in Portuguese. He had no idea his Spanish speaking teammate even knew Portuguese. She had glanced over to him and introduced herself in rich accented English.

“Hello, I’m Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.” She held out her hand.

He shook it, marveling at the softness despite the calluses he felt on her palm.

When she left to go find her team, Oikawa turned to Lucas and asked in a casual voice, “soooo… are you two together or something?”

Lucas just grinned at him and shook his head.

“Nah, she’s my how you say… my tomodachi.”

From there Lucas had taken it upon himself to get the two together, which didn’t work well after the Olympics were over as he returned to Bueno Aires and she to Brazil.  

“So, anyway I told her that you would do it in place of me! Isn’t that great?” Oikawa snapped out of his thoughts as Lucas continued.

“Wait what? Repeat that last part.”

He heard an aggravated sigh from the phone.

“Y/N participates in a beach volleyball competition every summer for charity. Her usual partner is gone, and she asked me, but I told her that I hurt my ankle. So, I volunteered you for the job!”

Oikawa blinked as the words registered in his mind.

“B-but I’ve never played professional beach volleyball before.”

Sure, he’s played some matches for fun every now and then. But surely a legitimate competition is different than screwing around with a beach ball.

“Ehh, it’s the same sport just with different rules. But don’t let that get in your way. This is your chance!”

Since he came back from Tokyo, Oikawa did sort of miss her and he hadn’t connected with any of the girls he met since.

“Alright fine. Let’s do this. How hard can it be?”

From there Lucas gave Y/N’s number to him. He immediately texted her and they figured out a schedule to practice together a few months before the actual tournament. Thankfully with the Olympics over, he no longer had to be in Argentina for the rigorous team practices and was free to go to Brazil as he pleased. So, a few weeks later he reached the coastal city Ubatuba in Brazil, ready to finally take a crack at beach volleyball.

Oikawa was munching away on his toast when he heard a knock in his hotel room. He quickly downed his breakfast smoothie and made his way to look through the peephole to see Y/N standing outside waiting patiently. He unlocked the door and let her in.

“Hey. How was your flight?” She asked as she kissed his cheek in greeting.

Oikawa felt his face get warm and tried not to get too excited over the fact that she had kissed him. He knew it was part of the friendly culture, but he couldn’t help the flutters that erupted from the gesture.

“Not too bad. Only two hours long.”

“Hope you’re ready to practice today. My friends and I have a court set up at Praia de Santa Rita. It’s a private beach we reserved and afterwards there are tons of restaurants we can go to for dinner,” Y/N said as she looked around the fancy hotel he had booked. He smirked at her reaction of course he deserved nothing but the best.

The two of them stepped out of the hotel and his eyes widened at the sight of her large jeep. Y/N jumped in and waved him inside. He carefully maneuvered himself in, hopefully, she wouldn’t drive too crazily.

“Put on your seat belt, you’ll need it!” Y/N screamed gleefully, and she revved up her jeep before pulling out of the parking lot. Oikawa’s nails dug into the seat’s handles while he held on tightly as she swerved around the tight corners without slowing down. His face continued to pale as she kept driving before finally pulling next to a beach. He carefully let himself out and his legs felt like jelly.

Oikawa gasped out, “y/n, please don’t ever drive again for everyone’s safety.”

He only heard the remnants of her door slamming and her giggles while she walked away. Oikawa followed her coming onto a rest area.

“Ok, this is where the restrooms and locker rooms are. So, get changed if you need to and then just follow the signs down to the beach,” she told him before heading inside herself with a small bag in her hand. He himself had brought along a change of clothes some shorts and a tank top with some sunscreen. Oikawa learned the hard way how important sunscreen was under the intense sun here when he turned into a lobster. After getting changed he found himself on the warm sand with the hot sun beating on his head. There was a volleyball net set up in the middle of the sand and there was a small group there getting warmed up as they spiked the ball from one side to the other.

“Hey! Good you’re here now we can get started,” a voice called from behind him. He turned around to see Y/N dressed in a small violet bikini which left little to the imagination. Her toned body and caramel skin caused his own body to burn with undisguised want.

“Are you playing in that?” He yelped.

Y/N looked down at her bikini confused, not seeing anything wrong with it.

“Yeah? What else would I wear? I mean sand gets everywhere. I can’t exactly wear a volleyball uniform on the beach,” she said with teasingly.

The flush on his cheek became brighter and he couldn’t exactly blame this on the hot sun either.

“So, what do you know about professional beach volleyball, Toru?”

His face immediately blossomed with a smile. He still wasn’t used to people openly calling him by his first name without honorifics despite being out of Japan for a few years now. But with Y/N it sounded natural and perfect coming out of her mouth. Though she didn’t exactly pronounce his name correctly, she rolled the rs too much. Oikawa never tried to correct her because he found her pronunciation absolutely sensual.

“Aren’t the rules mostly the same?”

Y/N shook her head. “Not exactly. A beach volleyball court is smaller and instead of six players, there are only two. Meaning only me and you are going to protect the entire court. There are no setters, liberos, or blockers. The two players usually divide it into two sides, protecting the left and the right. Beach volleyball games are usually faster, and it's usually played to 21 points instead of 25.”

Oikawa now understood why Lucas had readily volunteered him to become her partner. It would require time and dedication to become decent at the game which he was all too ready to bestow on her.

“Is that all?” he asked looking down at her.

Suddenly, he heard loud yells as the ball headed towards their area and he instinctively grabbed it before it hit either of them. But as soon as he touched it, the ball felt weird. It was lighter and bigger than the average volleyball.

“Oh, and the volleyball is different as you can see.”

Y/N patted his back and said, “come on. Let’s start.”

There were two other girls on one side of the court while he and Y/N occupied the other. She passed off the ball to him for his serve. Y/N went to stand in the top left while he served from the right baseline. He was just about to toss up the ball when he noticed something incredible.

Oikawa bit his lip to contain his groan, the sight was pure torture. It wasn’t fair to him and really any man. Y/N was standing in front of him with her knees bent, ready to receive any serve coming her way. There wasn’t anything wrong with her stance, in fact, if she was wearing her volleyball uniform, she would be doing her job like any other volleyball player professional or otherwise. However, in her bikini the forbidden scene made him feel like the worst type of peeping tom. But he couldn’t help it as he messed with the ball in his hand. Her position was perfect for him to saddle up behind her and press his cock against her clothed cunt. Her round ass cheeks were entirely exposed as the bikini bottoms were stretched against her body and the vaginal lips were apparent even against the dark purple fabric.

Which genius made it a thing to play volleyball in bikinis? Whoever it was Oikawa wanted to strangle and thank them from the bottom of his heart all at the same time.

He jerked his face away from Y/N’s body and tossed the ball in the air only to completely miss. The ball just tumbled a few feet from his person. Y/N turned around to give him a concerned look and gave him a thumbs up.

“It’s ok!” she yelled out before focusing back on her opponents.  “Keep going!”

‘Don’t look. Don’t look. D-O-N-T! LOOK! Ah fuck it,’ he thought as his eyes went right back to her ass. Honestly, he thought about possible sex with Y/N multiple times, but they were always fantasies with her on the bottom or on top riding him. But never from behind, clearly, he didn’t know what he was missing. His breath hitched when she bent down just a little further before righting herself again. He could probably call for an impromptu break and take her to the side for a private conversation. Maybe finally have that kiss they’ve both been craving for a long time before pushing her against a wall or a tree. He could hike her legs around him and fuck her until her voice was hoarse from screaming his name while her cunt creamed on his cock.

“Come on, Toru! Let’s go!” Y/N yelled as she effectively ruined his daydreams.

Ok, he had to focus now. Absolutely. The ball was once again in the air and he hit it with his palm only for it to hit the net. ….

Was it possible to bury only the face in the sand? He might have a need for that in just a few minutes.

Just as he was about to serve again his eyes wandered right back to Y/N’s backside, but this time she turned around at the same time to meet his eyes. His eyes widened and he quickly faced the front once more.

“Time out!” he heard Y/N say.

Y/N quickly walked towards Oikawa and stared him down.

“Have you been staring at my ass this entire time?”

He swallowed and coolly responded with a “no.”

“I’m not stupid, Toru! Is this going to be a problem for you?” she asked with her arms crossed and stern.

There was no point in lying, she already caught him red-handed so instead, he shrugged.

“It’s not my fault the view’s just too good. I’m only a man,” he said with a low voice.

“Y-you!” She seemed flabbergasted and amused at the same time. Y/N let out a snort and chuckled a few times before snatching the ball from his hands.

“Just go block for now. I’ll serve.” Y/N pointed to the same spot she herself was standing at. Oikawa being entirely shameless just ran his fingers through his hair and winked at Y/N before taking his spot at the front. The two women that were their opponents seemed to be hysterically giggling as well, guess he wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was. So, Oikawa just waved at them good-naturedly and readied himself for a rally.

It looked like Y/N wasn’t as distracted as him because she served without any problems and the game continued. It was much more difficult than he initially thought. While indoor volleyball was a team effort and everyone had to do their part, now Oikawa was responsible for everything. He was running around diving for the ball like a libero and even doing his own spikes as Y/N set a toss perfectly for him. Before he knew it, the game cycled through 6 sets faster than he was used to. That was another thing he noticed beach volleyball’s sets were much faster paced. Usually, he would take his time to dissect and figure out the opponent’s weaknesses before setting up tosses for his team. Now he had no time for that as he dived and ran after the lighter ball. Not only that he had to consider the weather, but the winds were also messing up his shots. Each time he aimed for the tight corners they would get blown out of bounds. Beach volleyball wasn’t harder necessarily, but it was definitely a challenge to learn.

After a couple more sets, Y/N called for a break. She handed him a cold-water bottle from the cooler while she drank some Gatorade.

“So, how long have you been playing beach volleyball?” he asked after swallowing the refreshing water.

“As long as I’ve been playing volleyball. It’s part of the Brazilian team’s routine. Playing beach volleyball actually makes you a better, well-rounded player,” she said as she put the tightened the Gatorade’s lid on and put it back in the cooler.

Y/N stepped closer to him and leaned into his face.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you staring at my ass. I can’t have you missing your serves during the tournament,” She snickered, he felt her hot breath against his ears, causing shivers to erupt across his body.

Oikawa just leaned in even closer, deliberately eyeing her lips for a moment before staring back in her eyes.

“And what exactly do you plan on doing if I don’t stop?”

Instead of getting flustered and putting space in-between them, she instead stepped even closer to him and blinked innocently at him, her eyes dilating and enrapturing him.

“Behave and if you’re a good boy. I’ll reward you, promise,” she muttered just low enough for him to barely hear.

Y/N pecked his cheek and she lingered there for a moment, he could bask in her closeness and smell the remnants of the shampoo from her long hair.

“Y/N! Come on let’s play again,” her friend shouted from halfway across the court.

“Looks like time’s up. I’ll let you serve this time,” Y/N giggled and ran back to start the game again.

Oikawa felt embarrassment choking him on the inside and vowed not to mess up too badly again. He made his way back to the court and grabbed the ball, he deliberately didn’t look at Y/N as she once stood at the front to block. This time he hit one of his more powerful serves and found that most of the power didn’t transfer over to the ball, but he was able to slightly control the ball better this time. The rally continued on until the sun had turned orange and was about to set. Eventually, the group decided on another date they could meet up and practice again for the tournament.

When everything was packed up and put away, he and Y/N made their trek back up the beach to the resting area again.

“Hey, since we won’t be able to practice until next Saturday again. What say me and you practice by ourselves?”

Y/N looked up from her phone and nodded affirmatively.

“Sounds like a good idea. Practice matches once a week probably won’t help unless we get some practice of our own.”

Oikawa bit his lip, hesitating for a minute before asking her.

“Also, since I’m here, you mind showing me around? This is the first time I’ve been to Brazil.”

Y/N again nodded but with more enthusiasm this time as she regaled about tales of the amazing tourist spots and restaurants they could explore in their free time. The two of them went inside the rest area and he went into the men’s locker room to take a quick shower before changing into his clothes.  Just as he stripped down and stepped into the shower, he heard a crash and scream coming from the hallway. He turned off the water and tugged a fluffy towel around his waist before walking to track down whatever made the sound. When he walked out to an empty building, he heard Y/N’s voice distinctly cursing coming from the women’s locker room.

“Y/N? You alright?” Oikawa called out, he waited for a few minutes to hear her reply and when she didn’t respond he stepped inside. He peeked inside carefully just in case there were women walking around. He heard some clutter falling onto the floor a few feet away so following the noise he found Y/N in a towel trying to pick up her items.

“You ok?” he asked concerned. Y/N startled and lost her balance, tumbling onto the locker room’s floor.

“Toru, what are you doing in here? This is a woman’s locker room.”

“I know I thought I heard a woman screaming and then I heard your voice, so I came to check if you were ok.”

She sighed and pushed her dripping wet hair from her face. “Yeah, I’m ok I slipped in the shower, and then I realized I brought my phone into the shower, so I came to put it away, only to drop everything inside of my bag.”

Oikawa was about to bend down and help. “Here let me help.”

Y/N held up her hand and replied, “it’s ok I got it.” She gathered all her items and put it all away along with her phone.

Just as she was about to get up, the water that had been dripping from her body and hair gathered on the floor and made the tiles slick. Her foot slipped and she was about to hit the ground hard when Oikawa grabbed her in time before she could. However, Y/N lost her hold on the towel around her body and it exposed her chest and curves to his naked eyes. He quickly turned his head away while keeping a secure grip on her.

“Ahh! Don’t look!” she screamed and slapped her hands over her breasts. “Did you see anything?”

Oikawa swallowed and wished he could tell her no, but he sort of caught a glimpse at the body he had been craving to touch and feast his eyes on since he met her. So, he should opt to keep quiet.

“It’s ok, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before!” Except he panicked and opened his mouth.

“What does that even mean you jerk!” He could feel her try to pull away from his arms.

“Wait that came out wrong, I swear!”

Oikawa turned back around and felt blindsided by Y/N’s beauty. She was soaked to the bone, but never did she look more beautiful to him than in that moment.

“You’re so….” He trailed off. She looked at him a little confused and quit trying to pull away.

“So what?”

He leaned in and caressed her cheek. Oikawa didn’t finish his sentence and instead just connected their two lips. As he sensually captured her lips, Y/N eagerly responded back to him as if she had been desperately waiting for this just like he was. Keeping one hand on her chin to angle her face, his other hand traveled down to her naked bosom. He reverently caressed and tweaked her dusky peaks while expertly maneuvering the kiss. Y/N whimpered with want when his tongue brushed up against hers. He smirked at her reactions as her breathing started getting more erratic and her cute noises became louder and louder. They only broke apart when he heard people approaching the locker rooms.

Just as Oikawa was about to move away from Y/N, she grabbed his hand.

“The far-left shower at the end,” she jerked her head towards it.

He smiled with excitement knowing that she wanted to continue as much as he did. Grabbing and picking her up like she weighed nothing, he hurried to the shower and tugged the shower curtain shut.

Just in time too as he could hear women laughing and talking in Portuguese.

“Y/N, você está aqui?” a woman called out.

Y/N for her part looked startled at being addressed and pushed away Oikawa’s hands that were still playing with her chest.

“Sim, ainda estou aqui,” Y/N responded in a clear voice. She shot a warning look to Oikawa as his hands found themselves back on her hips and making their way back up. He only cheekily smirked at her and returned to pawing at her cleavage.  She waited for a few minutes to hear her friend’s footsteps retreating before pulling Oikawa closer and aggressively kissing him. He tugged the towel around his waist off and hiked Y/N’s silky legs around him.

He carefully maneuvered to turn the shower’s knob and set her against the wall while a jet of hot water poured over them. And Oikawa went right back to devouring her mouth and grinding against her hot cunt. As soon as his cock made contact with her tingling clit, Y/N’s body spasmed and she tried to tug him closer. Her ankles interlocked at his waist and she tried to thrust below to encourage him to enter her. But he only chuckled at her excitement and continued to slowly slide back and forth. Y/N forgetting for a moment where she was exactly, enraged by his teasing smacked his thigh loudly enough to echo in the locker room.  Oikawa let out a low grunt and thrust full throttle into her. Her eyes widened at the sudden entry and she couldn’t even contemplate the fullness before he withdrew quickly once again.

“Fode me o meu amor,” Y/N begged.

Oh, that just wasn’t playing fair. He didn’t know what she said but her breathless voice and her needy eyes made him helpless.

 As if he could no longer bear to be apart without the drenched enclosed intimacy, he reentered without warning. Oikawa fucked her with the same hell-bent concentration he played volleyball with. She covered her mouth with her hand to contain the moans, that only muffled the noises rather than stopping them completely. The faster pace caused Y/N to skid up and down on the shower walls. She tried to find purchase against the tiles, but the hot water droplets caused her to loosen the grip. His breathing got heavier and uneven, why was it he could handle hours of volleyball, but the vise grip of her cunt made him want to spill inside of her like an immature adolescent?  He removed her hand covering her moist lips and thoroughly kissed her. He swallowed her moans and they stood in the shower making love for god knows how long. His hand found her engorged clit and his middle finger started pressing slow circle while his thumb and point finger started pinching it in time to his thrusts. Just as she was about to cum, Y/N buried her face in his neck. She bit down hard on his shoulder trying to contain the shrieks she wanted to let out. It wasn’t long before her spiral started to pull him as well, the constriction creating a perfecting suction to swallow his juices. He placed a hand on the wall to stabilize himself just before he pulled out of her and came all over her thighs. The water soon washed away all the evidence of their tryst as it flowed down the drain.

“Does the hot water feel that good?” Y/N’s friend called out. Soon of the other ladies started giggling and laughing along. “We’re leaving! See ya, Y/N!”

The two of them didn’t move from their spot until they heard the sounds of lockers being shut and the ladies’ voices being fading further and further away.

“I think they knew…” Y/N gasped a little embarrassed and horrified.

On the other hand, Oikawa kept smiling like a goof. “I love beach volleyball now! It’s my favorite kind.”

She let out a frustrated groan. “Just get out of my way. I need to get dressed before I prune even more.”

“Maybe next time you should call me papi,” he hollered out as Y/N started to dry herself and got dressed.

“There won’t be a next time if you don’t get your butt dressed soon or I’ll leave you behind.”

Y/n when she was all dressed up and ready to go, waited for him outside of the resting area. He came out joyfully whistling away and ready to leave. Oikawa slung his arm over Y/N’s shoulder and pulled her close. He was finally taking the chance to get closer to her like he always wanted.

“You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?” she asked tickled with his antics.

He leaned in and pecked her forehead. “You know it,” Oikawa said with a wink.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Hey bub!! I love your writing. I don’t know if your taking any requests or anything but if you are, it would be really cute if you did a little something about Harry and his 2 year old little girl going to a cookout for 4th of July. They could go over and spend time with Anne and Gemma have a little pool party and bbq. His little girl throw a couple tantrums and put her in timeout and threaten her with “if you don’t behave y’ going inside” and also have Harry buy them matching clothes and bathing suits. I know it’s late since the 4th was a couple days ago but I just thought it would be really cute. And also I don’t know if the UK celebrates the 4th at all (sorry if they don’t, I’m not from there and I’m not really smart with other counties lol)

Hello, there!

The UK doesn't celebrate the 4th of July. It's just an American thing unless they wish to celebrate just for the fun of it. I have been in the US for a few 4th of July's, and it's pretty fun, but other countries don't celebrate it. I tried this piece of writing, but I have a headache, and I am tired, but I wanted to answer this as soon as I saw it.

With the chaos with everything going on, Harry had no intentions of travelling back to Europe any time soon. On the contrary, he liked the idea of not lugging his two-year-old through airports and on a long haul back to England. But, with his wife back and forth from New York to LA and both of them constantly flying, he decided that travelling for one of the busiest holidays was not the smartest of ideas.

Harry watches her in the rearview mirror, her little hands tugging at her little converse that she refuses to want to keep on. Of all the things for her to fight him on, she wanted to choose the shoes this morning. She doesn't care to fight him on the little red bow in her hair or the fact he promised his wife that he would make sure to wear the matching shirts she had sent. He isn't sure what it is about her tradition of wearing matching shirts and American apparel, but he won't question it. His wife may be stuck working, but her every wish is his command. "Why you playin' with your shoes?" Harry questions, his daughters instantly looking up at him, her lips falling into a pout, shaking her head at him. "Gotta keep 'em on until we get to your Aunt Gemma's, just a few more minutes," Harry encourages, watching as she narrows her eyes but quickly lets go of her shoes with a heavy huff. If anything, his daughter got from his wife. It was most definitely her sass and attitude. His daughter did not get her obedience from him. Harry chuckles to himself, shaking his head and continuing to drive.

Reaching his sister's house, he pulls into the driveway and turns to look into the back seat, "Now, darling, promise to be good?"

His daughter nods her head with a sweet little smile, "Yes, Daddy," she agrees, "But no shoes?" She questions, gesturing towards her shoes, causing Harry to sigh heavily. He knows she is going to bug him about the damn shoes until he gives in.

Harry hops out of the car and opens the back door, leaning in and unclipping his daughter from her seat, "Come on, lovely," Harry grins, taking her out from her car seat and placing her down, her little shoes hitting the hot concrete, the LA sun already scorching as it shines in the early morning. Harry turns back around, reaching in to grab the bag of all the essentials, spare clothes, spare bottles, anything he could think of that he may need. As much as his sister loves her niece, Harry knows that she has not had the time to buy toddler items for her niece in her prompt move to the US. "Hey, hey, no running off-" Harry begins, noticing his daughter hurrying off. He goes to scold her but stops when she sees her running into his mother's arms. "Goin' to give me a fuckin' heart attack one day," Harry mutters to himself, taking a breath to calm down. He is always on edge when her little legs take off.

"Oh, my darling, hello!" He hears his mother's gracious voice sound as she holds her grandaughter tightly, "Almost got yourself in trouble as always," Harry's mother chuckles, stepping closer to Harry.

"You got that right," Harry responds, offering his mother a small smile, "Hi, Mum," he greets, kissing her cheek before placing a small hat on his daughter, "Glad you made it in safely. How was your flight?" Harry asks.

"Quite lovely, not as crowded as I expected. Your sister has been here for a week and is going to burn her house down. She has the BBQ going..." Anne trails off.

Harry laughs, "Is that why I can smell charcoal?" ... "No need to worry. Your favourite son is here to save the day." Harry closes his car door, "Y/N sends her love. But, unfortunately, she couldn't get a flight out in time," Harry sighs, his lips turning into a frown for a brief moment.

"I know, she called me earlier. I told her I would fly out to visit her next week."

"Wow, okay, I see how it is," Harry chuckles, "Don't plan to visit me but will fly to my wife, got it," Harry gently nudges his mum, purposely teasing her.

***

Harry spent the morning in the pool, throwing his daughter around in the crystal clear pool water, her giggle filling the space around them. He had wanted to swim with her before the pool became too crowded for her. He knows she'd get anxious and overwhelmed, so it was only fair to give her a swim before the chaos.

With a dry towel wrapped around her body and her little fourth of July bathing suit, her hair falls around her face, her lips pouting as she subtly stomps her little feet, "But Daddy," she whines, not pleased with the fact she has to get out to reapply sunscreen.

She has been on her best behaviour until now, and Harry has to be the bad guy for a good reason.

"If ye' don't behave yourself, you're going to go inside and sit in time out," Harry softly informs his stubborn daughter, "Now, we can put your sunscreen on and wait for a little and go back in the pool, or we can go sit inside."

"Aunt Gemma no have a time out chair," his daughter responds.

"I will find one, darling," Harry responds, trying not to laugh at her comment, "So, pool or time out?"

"Pool," she mumbles, dropping her arms in defence and giving into Harry's demand for a quick sunscreen break.

"Good decision. Do want a juice?" Harry offers as he picks her up and carries her away from the edge of the pool. "Aunt Gemma has your favourite," Harry grins, doing his best to keep his daughter hydrated without having to fight her on it.

"Orange?"

"Of course," Harry responds, stepping inside the house, "If you ask nicely, she might give you some," Harry continues, placing her little feet down, adjusting her towel before gesturing for her to head to his sister.

***

Harry stands in the backyard with a beer in his hand, a few mutual friends' of him and his sister talking with him as he grills on the BBQ, ultimately taking it over like a typical Dad. He knew if he left it to his sister, everyone would be eating burned food and God knows what else. "Mate, we need to start our tequila label. We would have a good brew."

Harry chuckles, "Oi, I told you that the last time I had too much to drink, and you told me I was bonkers."

Niall shrugs, taking a sip of his beer, "Well, I was not in the right state of mind."

"Whatever," Harry shakes his head, "Did you watch the game?"

"Of course, I did. Did you?"

"No, my cable provider here doesn't play it," Harry huffs, "Had to listen on my phone and missed it all."

Before Niall can reply, they both hear the little whines that are all too familiar. He turns his head and finds the little girl with brown curls looking around, looking lost as she tries to find whoever she is looking for. "Over here, sweetheart," Harry calls, already beginning to walk towards her. He reaches her and picks her up, holding her on his hip, "What's the matter?" he questions as she wipes away a few tears. He can tell she is overwhelmed with her eyes darting around everywhere, her heart beating fast.

"I want Mummy," she sniffles, "Aunt Gemma left, and I no know where she went," she spits out through sniffles, burying herself into Harry's neck.

Harry sighs and caresses his hand to her back, "I know, we will see Mummy soon. I am sure Aunt Gemma is around somewhere," he assures her, "Come on, let's go inside for a minute," Harry whispers, passing the BBQ duty off to Niall, gesturing his head to the house, and Niall nods.

Harry takes his daughter inside, the cool air whispering around them as he passes a few friends and walks down the hallway, finding his sisters room and sitting on the edge of the bed. He massages his daughter's back, holding her close and adjusting her legs to be more comfortable. "Sleepy, hmm?" Harry softly challenges, starting to rock her slightly. She mumbles something inaudible, and he smiles to himself, "Sweet dreams, my darling," he whispers, beginning to softly hum, rocking her to sleep like he always does, no matter where or when.

The bedroom door slowly creaks open, and Harry flicks his eyes towards the door. "Sorry," he whispers as his sister walks in. "Didn't mean to take your room but figured it would be the quietest," Harry informs his sister, guilt settling in as he realises he didn't bother to tell her he would be in her private space.

"Shh," she shakes her head, "I don't care, brought her blanket," she holds up the small yellow blanket that his daughter loves, carefully placing it over her petite body.

Harry continues to rock his little girl, looking down at her as she peacefully sleeps. In his arms, he holds his pride and joy. No matter how many times she tests his patience and takes her shoes off, the little girl is everything to him. He'd drop everything for her in the blink of an eye, no matter what time of day it is. Outside, the other adults are having the time of their life, drinking beer, eating some good American food, and celebrating the occasion. Harry wouldn't want to be anywhere else but holding his little angel and watching her sleep, making sure she feels safe and secure.

[anothertastelesstetrahedron]

Descole headcanons maybe 👀

Did someone say Descole? 👀 I’m just gonna put the whole thing under the read more cut, since this ended up being a very long post - and I mean looooooong - like almost 3000 words long. Major spoilers for most of the games - mainly the Descole Trilogy (looking at you AL), but there’s also one UF one.

Des has terrible handwriting. I just think it would be funny if that's the one thing he cannot change about himself while impersonating someone else. He can manage faking signatures, but free writing as someone else? He has to try very, very hard to get that (nearly) right. Tbh for most of his roles that’s also hardly a problem, so he doesn’t bother.

He dehydrated/had a heat stroke at least once while in full costume. There must be a reason why Raymond tries so hard to make sure the AL gang takes water bottles, sunscreen and so on with them. Des has no self-preservation instinct (unless having Raymond around counts as Des taking care of himself?) He also probably almost died in Monte d’Or due to the heat.

Des beat up those guys who hurt Layton in UF. Listen, no one is allowed to hurt his bro except for him.

The first thing Des did after AL was visit Umid - after getting the much needed medical treatment. Because I absolutely love their interactions he promised to do so. It would be funny for him to show up in full costume as well.

Des eventually got used to Kietz (because the cat is now living with Raymond and Des. You cannot change my mind about that) At first he hated Kietz. Des is basically the old cat in the Bostonius that now has to get used to the new one lol

I know it was just the writers having no idea about Des’ backstory in LS but I still can’t stop thinking about how Hershel felt that Descole (in full costume) was familiar. So what if young Hershel Bronev actually liked to dress up in a costume similar to the Descole one? And that had left an impression on young Theo...

I also still cannot get over the fact that Des knows how to make Layton the perfect tea. Well, he had Raymond make it, but still. How does he know what kind Layton likes? Theory one: Layton’s taste hasn't changed from when they were kids. Theory two: He stalked observed Layton’s tea-drinking activities. Maybe he even posed as a waiter sometimes to find Layton’s favourite tea.

Des had kept track of how Layton was doing for a long time. He also was very close to introducing himself a couple of times. Obviously he never did. One reason why he decided against it was certainly to keep Layton away from everything. Des had given him the chance to live a peaceful life, so he obviously didn’t want to risk that. But that’s not all to it. Though Des hated himself for even feeling that, he was a bit jealous. It’s not that he regretted his decision from back then, but he still couldn’t help feeling that way. Plus, Hersh was a reminder of his past life. So while Des had his family that was another reason why he didn't approach - though in the beginning, he had actually thought even more about talking to Layton. However, Des had really tried to let go of his revenge and thus also his past - so Layton couldn't be a part of Sycamore's life. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he also couldn't help but think about their father whenever he looked at Hersh. He knows that’s not fair, but it’s what it is. The same way he thinks about Bronev whenever he sees his own eyes in the mirror. After his family’s death and after he became Descole he stopped approaching Hersh altogether and kept his distance. Not only because, again, he wanted to keep Layton out of all of this - even more so than before, because Des had already lost his family again, so losing Hersh was not an option (I write even though Des tried to kill Hersh himself hjasdjd)-, but also because he was afraid of how disappointed Layton would be were he to find out about all the things Descole had done. Des feared that he’d hate him.

Relating to one point in the previous point, Des absolutely hates mirrors. His reflection is bearable while being dressed as Descole, but he still avoids them like the plague. Even more so as AL Desmond. He also absolutely hates it when someone compliments his eyes - the thing he hates the most about his appearance.

Relating to that, I know Des’ glasses are just for show, but what if they are optical glasses nevertheless? Like, he cannot stand seeing clearly (especially since he ran into Bronev a couple of times and he absolutely doesn’t want to see that guy’s face). Maybe it’s also to help him distance himself even further from the others - especially Layton(?).

Des only possesses one photo of his family. It had been in his wallet when they died. I am just gonna assume Targent blew up his house, leaving Des with almost nothing. As much as he wishes to have the photo with him at all times, it's far too dangerous to do so while being Descole. Maybe Raymond keeps it safe? Or Des just keeps it in Desmond’s office? Maybe that was one of the things he actually liked while being Desmond again, at least he actually could carry the photo around this time.

Des lies a lot (obviously) - also to himself. (This is also me just trying to make his writing make more sense, since it often seemed to me he was written by 4+ people who didn't tell each other what they’ve written). I am thinking of that one bonus scene in MM where Des acts all empathetic towards Randall. “Just the thought of those poor parents, desperately looking for their own child.” That line does sound a lot like something Des himself knows too well… And then, one moment later, after Randall has left, Des just admits to himself that he’s just using Randall. (srsly writers??) I’m not saying that’s not right, because he’s certainly using him - no point in sugar-coating that - but he’s also very much trying to distance himself from Randall and his issues and reminding himself to focus on his goals and to not get distracted. Because Des does care. And I also think that he could have achieved his goal without Randall, but when he had learnt that Layton lost his best friend, Des tried everything in his power to get him back.

What is Des’ “true self”?

That is the one question I’m thinking about the most. It’s probably gonna get a bit complicated now… Let’s see if I can make my own words make sense (I really tried haha). For clarity's sake I’m gonna use three different names now: First, we have Des - the name I’m gonna use for the “true(est)” version of him - whoever that really is. Then we have Desmond - the AL Desmond Des “played” during AL. And, finally, there is Descole which is of course the Descole “role”.

Des has some serious identity issues - because of course he does. Descole started as a role (Des is even literally wearing a non-practical costume) that served a specific purpose. Des initially “created” Descole to have an outlet for all his rage and despair - and to get back at Targent without revealing himself. And I imagine some characteristics of Descole are things Des added, because he wanted Descole to appear a certain way different from how Des presented himself outside the costume. No one was to find who was behind the mask after all, so Descole had to act differently. Descole’s arrogance comes to mind, like that one just strikes me as not (fully) being Des himself. Des pretty much hates himself and blames himself for a lot of things. But Descole is also much more than a simple role. He’s very much a part of Des himself - it’s Des' own anger and his own feelings Descole is based on after all. Over the years, the lines between Des and Descole got more blurry. And now Des pretty much cannot tell the difference anymore between the things that make him him and the things he had just put into the Descole persona. So while Descole was initially based on parts of Des himself, over time Des truly lost himself in Descole who had become its own thing as well. Think method acting gone completely wrong - or right?

In a similar yet also opposite way, (AL) Desmond is also a role Des played during the game. Des said that he had just assumed Desmond’s identity again to get close to Layton and use him (which I don’t believe is 100% true, because I am convinced that a part of Des wanted to be saved. And also longed to see his brother again - and wanted Layton to like him), but it does make me think that Des mostly runs around as Descole. Obviously Des had kept the Desmond persona alive enough for Desmond to be regarded as a world-famous archeologist. But then again, it clearly doesn’t matter in the PL-universe if people don’t do their jobs.

I still do not know how much of Desmond is the “true” Desmond. Even if Des based Desmond on how he used to be with his family, there’s still the question how close Des actually comes to that. Memories can be deceiving and I doubt Des remembers exactly how he used to be. So maybe Desmond’s speaking style, his mannerism could be an act instead of that being Des’ true (past) self. Or which I like better, it’s a confusing mix between “lie” and “truth”. Some things are exaggerated (people tend to romanticize the past, so even with his family Des(mond) might not have been as nice as he presents himself to be as AL Desmond). Some aspects are more or less really Des(mond) and some other things are just stuff Des added to the Desmond role - consciously or not.

Let’s take this thought even further. When Des tried to leave his revenge behind and concentrate on his family, was that Des(mond) really his true(est) self? Or did Des play a role during that time as well (at least partly)? Des cannot let go. That has been shown throughout the games. So while he had tried to put Targent behind him, he might not have been able to do that completely. Thus he buried some things deep inside him and concentrated on “playing” Desmond Sycamore. Who might be the person he wished to be(?).

Long story short, I think that maybe AL Desmond is an idealised version of the Desmond Des used to be. Des acted like how he used to be while his family was still alive - or as much as possible, since he absolutely cannot let go of the pain completely. So his AL Desmond appearance could also be how he had looked like back then. I honestly do not even know if AL Desmond is the “true face” under the mask. Or if Desmond is also kind of like a “costume”. His appearance could be inaccurate as to how present Des really looks like. Descole’s character model also makes no sense. Like the hair that is sometimes visible doesn’t really look like Desmond’s most of the time after all. So is Descole wearing another wig? Is Desmond? I kind of like the idea that Des met Layton with his true appearance, so I’m on the fence here. Maybe he’s not wearing a wig, but extensions?I very much like the idea of Des appearing with his true face though… So I am kind of reluctant to have Desmond look too different from Des. Plus, Layton could have noticed if Desmond was in fact wearing a wig and that might have made Layton suspicious. But maybe Des dyed his hair a bit, and/or is wearing extensions? Maybe he actually already has grey hair, who knows. I certainly don’t.

However, I also believe that Desmond is far less of a role than Des probably thinks/admits. Over the course of the game, he might have lost himself in the Desmond role in a similar way to how he has lost himself in Descole.

Des' time as AL Desmond changed him for sure. And he does act differently as Descole after he changed into the costume than in the previous games. (I’m gonna make a whole separate post about how the German version uses different forms of politeness - and Des does speak rather … strange/different after his revelation than in other games… Again, I know that that’s just the writers being the writers, but where is the fun in that?)

Present day Des has probably no idea who his true self is anymore… Him “playing” Desmond further complicated things. Which parts did he make up, which parts are truly him? I don’t think there’s an easy answer to that… But that also makes Des so fascinating to me. I also really wonder what name he prefers after AL…

As much as I like the idea that Des himself came up with the plan to approach Layton as Desmond, I also very much like the idea that it had been Raymond instead who had suggested it. Raymond probably has to listen to a lot of Des’ angry rants. And after hearing another one about Layton seeing through one of Des’ disguises, Raymond came up with the idea to just go as himself next time. Partly also because Raymond knows Des better than anyone else and he knows how much Des longs to see his brother again - even if Des himself doesn’t admit that.

Des has acquired quite a lot of scars over the years… He does fall down a lot, so it’s bound to happen. He was probably wearing a fair bit of makeup in AL to hide some of them - in addition to his visible lack of sleep. Speaking of, I don’t think Des slept all that much during AL. He probably has nightmares that wake him up screaming. No way he could (or would want to) explain that to the others. Maybe that’s what he has been doing while he was not with the gang. He was taking a much needed nap… Or ...

… or he goes into the one room in the Bostonius that’s completely sound-proof (because that surely exists) and just screams (and cries) for a bit. In full Descole costume. He cannot bear being Desmond and being around the others at all times. He needs to have an outlet for his emotions.

Des really tried to retain his (emotional) distance from everyone in AL. I noticed that in the beginning he hardly ever said anything while I was clicking everything (and I hope believe that I’ve really clicked everything for potential Des dialogue). But he says more over time. It also takes a long time for him to talk about his family. So maybe that’s him slowly warming up to the others. Des was also probably still figuring out how to be Desmond (again). In a way, I think Desmond was one of his easiest yet also his most challenging role he ever had to “play”. No one is more familiar to him and yet also a total stranger. Plus, he had to be extra careful not to reveal too much. Can’t have been easy (which is why he needed to go scream for a bit sometimes).

He feels immensely guilty about caring for Aurora. He was especially reluctant to get closer to her, but he also just couldn't help caring for her. Because she reminded him of his daughter. He just feels very conflicted as he got more and more attached to her, not only because he knew he would eventually betray her, but he felt like in caring for Aurora he was betraying his daughter in a way… This guilt could apply to Flora as well when he eventually meets her.

One day after AL he found the Popoño he had bought for Aurora. He keeps it close ever since.

His revenge is achieved after AL, so there should be no reason for Descole to continue existing. But I don’t think Des will be able to let go of Descole right away. The AL ending shows that anyway. I feel him putting the mask back on in his last scene makes sense for him. He still cannot bring himself to leave Descole behind and he also very much still cannot bear to see his father’s eyes whenever he looks in a mirror. It would have been too sudden for him to just put all the pain behind him. Des’ revenge was basically also the one thing that defined his whole life. And Descole has been a part of his life for a long time as well - the pain and anger that led to Des creating Descole have been inside Des long before his family got killed. I can’t imagine it easy to just let go of all of that. Des is truly lost at the end of AL. He has lost his purpose, the one thing that made him go on. And he needs to figure out who he is himself. Even more so after his whole posing as Desmond again. I like to think that Des will be able to let go of Descole eventually, but that will be a slow process and not something that’s gonna happen overnight. Instead he’ll probably put on the costume fewer and fewer times until, eventually, Descole just disappears. Maybe he’ll stop when he runs out of costumes lol. No matter what, it’s gonna be a long road for Des to be able to heal… (And he should totally go get back to Layton and apologise to Layton and to a loooooot of other people and then they both go to therapy)

[wisherbysharlight]

WHAT IF... SANDERS SIDES BUT MAKE IT A TROPEY TEEN BEACH AU

Endgame!LAMP. Dukeceit, Remile

Just 2k stream of consciousness words from a plunny that grew legs TW for v slight underage drinking, one joking mention of violence, and a non-specific discussion of intrusive thoughts

-Janus has just moved there because his parents wanted to start a new "adventure" and he is a Stereotypical Teenager. Very "ugh MOM I wanna go back to my FRIENDS for my LAST SUMMER BEFORE COLLEGE"(most of his friends suck. He should not spend time with them. He does not know this)

His Parents buy him a surfboard and tell him to try it out as a way to get him to Shut Up

Hes a Skater Boy(cue music) so he picks it up super fast from like,,, youtube videos

 -He gets told to Get a Job if he wants to like, keep buying surf gear?

All the local kids work at like one restaurant/yacht club type place right on the beach

Janus gets hired as a host

 -Logan is a beach badge checker, Patton, Roman, and Remus are beachfront restaurant waiters but Roman just Really Wants To Surf, Emile and Virgil are Lifeguards, and Remy is a bartender

 -Janus is Very Good At Customer Service because Fake Smiles

Patton recognizes this Immediately

He shows him the Rage Closet which is a tiny room with an arm chair that locks from the inside where you can punch a pillow on your break when it gets to be Too Much

-Janus is Attached now and there is no getting rid of him

Patton Fully Endorses this and introduces him to the rest of the group

Janus Knows Immediately that LAMP is In Love but says nothing because he aint no snitch

-Remus surfs, but he also always wear a thong while doing it

Roman wears a full wetsuit and somehow still gets Board Rash. Remus is somehow immune and it infuriates him

 -Janus, not knowing that the twins live right on the beach cuz they are RichTM: Hey Ree I kinda wanna learn how to surf would you be able to teach me 

Remus, who religiously watches Janus surf every morning, but is absolutely willing to play this game: Yeah absolutely

Patton, later: “lets rinse off at the twins they’re right here” Janus: theyre.... What?!

 -Meanwhile, elsewhere, Virgil and Roman are double teaming Logan to drag him into the water with them cuz he’s pouting about losing a debate with their manager about how he didn’t really be mean to the dudebro who wanted to get his buddies onto the beach without paying, he was just enforcing the rules. And if the dude was so offended by Logan’s Very Accurate Dragging that he complained to management then, well, that’s his problem not Logan’s

 -Logan is never without a book. Ever. And its always a different book. Janus is starting to think he owns a library

One day he is just... reading a Physics textbook. Not taking notes or anything. Just reading. 

Roman is Very Very Alarmed by this because he is Gay and Math is Scary

"Roman I'm also gay that is not a determining factor"

"Yeah but you can't drive"

"...fair"

 -the first time janus has a shift with the twins, he cant stop staring, not just because hes like,,, super attracted to Remus but also because they are like Chaos Incarnate and yet somehow get the most tips??? He doesn't understand???

It's just cuz they are both Huge Flirts and Flatterers and the patrons dont care that they're not-so-subtly beating the shit out of each other right there on the dining floor because theyre just so charming

 -one of the bartenders gets aggressively snapped at by a customer and called "sweetheart" and before Janus can even begin to react Remy is there, sunglasses off, fire in his eyes, telling them to settle their bill and get the fuck out

Janus, used to City Restaurants- "Wont you get in trouble with the owner?!"

Remy, who knows Nothing Else But This- "What?? Not likely I only did it cuz Thomathy wasnt here to do it himself"

 -the restaurant is closed Monday and Tuesday so that is the Pseudo Weekend for the staff where everyone hangs out at the beach

Emile and Virgil take Tuesdays off but still work Monday’s cuz they feel better being the one watching over their friends

 -Roman, staring at Virgil on the lifeguard stand: ugh he’s so pretty I almost wish I was drowning just so he could give me cpr 

Janus: you wanna potentially get your ribs broken just for lip contact? 

Remy, staring at Emile on the lifeguard stand: listen, if that’s what it takes, I’ll take it

Remus, immediately going up to the lifeguard stand because he has 0 impulse control: hey my brother and cousin want you to break their ribs 

Virgil and Emile: excuse me?????

 -Patton will literally spend hours in the water. Logan physically drags him out to put sunscreen on him every two hours to the minute. Patton does not admit that he purposely "forgets" just so Logan will do so

Logan is Dark and has never used sunscreen ever but Patton is so pale and he just gets so concerned about him. Patton thinks its adorable

He has pages of research on proper spf determination.

Roman and Remus use spf 15 just on their faces and have never once burned in their lives

Logan wants to submit them for scientific study because that shouldnt be possible

Virgil calls Logan out on the fact that he also should be wearing sunscreen and Logan like... blue screens he cant believe in all his research he missed that

 -Patton is like... a ridiculously strong swimmer. Virgil still has a heart attack every time he goes for laps when there is the slightest hint of an undertow

Patton Knows This so he tries to stay in Virgil's sight line for the most part if there is an undertow. Or just dives over the waves again and again.

His nickname is Ariel. He thinks its just cuz of the swimming and the fact hes a red head. LAP all separately also tack on that its the swimming, the red hair, and the hnng pretty 10/10 would follow out to sea ala Prince Eric

 -first beach bonfire Janus goes to Remy is Fully In Emile's Lap like... half an hour in

he has had like maybe a sip of a beer

Remus says he still claims this is because he is a Clingy Drunk

no one will call him on it, least of all Emile

 -there is truth or dare. Roman may or may not skinny dip you have no proof

 -Logan gets infuriated that he cannot roast a marshmallow properly

Patton does it perfectly every single time but its ok cuz he shares and Logan eats it right from his fingers and Roman and Virgil are just in the background Trying and Failing not to be the Most Jealous

Patton thinks theyre upset they didn't get marshmallows and makes some for them too and there is lots of Significant Eye Contact involved

Janus is going to spontaneously combust if they don't get their shit together

 -Janus is out walking on the beach one night on a full moon cuz he cant sleep with everything so quiet around here when he sees a bright green patch out in the water and goes ...wait

he calls out to Remus and he comes into shore and is like "waves are perfect at night you should join me" so janus goes back and gets his board and they surf and chat for like the entire night

Janus finds out Remus couldn't sleep cuz intrusive thoughts were keeping him awake

Janus listens and doesn't judge, just lets Remus talk it out

They go back to shore and fall asleep on the sand next to each other like mid sentence still talking, now about whatever creative business idea Remus had, and get woken up by Logan's morning rounds like "come on guys you know you're not allowed to sleep out here" but they dont care theyre both just *blushing emoji*

-Logan Always Has A Notebook right? And a regular book he reads. And everyone assumes they are like Notions and Observations, but no, it’s actually blank paper and he uses it to sketch and then one day he leaves it behind and someone either Virgil or Patton finds it and flips through it and it’s all sketches of them and Roman and they’re like??? Actually really good? Anyway that’s how they find out Logan is actually minoring in art even though he’s majoring in something Very STEM 

And he never told his best friends because like almost all his pre college art is Them and he doesn’t want to be caught having Feelings and by the time it gets to college it’s been too long and he can’t tell them now 

Roman takes one of the sketches of him surfing and makes it his profile picture on All Social Media He Has and Logan is so flustered he nearly breaks his damn phone

Patton is so offended he didn’t get invited to Logan’s first showcase that he doesn’t talk to him for like two whole hours 

Virgil quietly asks if there is any art of all four of them, finds out there is, and makes a print and keeps it on his bedside table

 -They are all Pining Outwardly Now and its Worse

 -Remus : you have known them since pre-k please ask them out I beg of you 

Roman: You just dont get it 

Remus: I asked Janus out after 4 weeks what is your problem

 Emile: Virgil, I love you, you are my Partner in Anti-Drowning but you are so stupid 

Virgil: What???? All I said is that you and Remy are really cute and I'd love to be in a relationship like that 

Emile: I am not a violent person, Virgil, but I have the strong urge to smack you

 Patton, in the Rage Closet: They're all just so hOT and ReSPEctFUL 

Janus, waiting for his turn, trying to act like he cant hear him: I Am Looking Elsewhere

 Logan: I just don't understand why they were more upset that I didn't tell them than that I'd been making art of them for years?? Shouldn't that second part be worse??

Remy, who has been partial to Every Single One Of AMP Waxing Poetic About Logan: Yeah, no idea /s

 -the twins get into a surfing competition as a pair and everyone goes to see them and support them

Thomas airs the competition on every tv in the restaurant cuz he’s Proud of his Bois

They WIN cuz they are Creative and Talented and came up with all sorts of crazy tricks while they were fucking around in the water but it earns them Major Bonus Points for originality

 -Roman does the run off the podium and into Love’s arms trope with just like... whoever’s closest lets go Patton because he is a Waif and forced himself up front so he can see

The other two are Devastated because well shit but then Roman pushes through the crowd, still holding Patton’s hand, and gives them this smile and is like “remember in like second grade when we said we’d do everything together and made a pact on this beach”

Analogical: uhhhhhh yeah

Roman: holding you both to it. No take backs. This counts. Now kiss me, dammit, we WON and they DO MANY TIMES AND ITS REAL CUTE

 -Meanwhile dukeceit have Mysteriously Disappeared and No One wants to be the ones to go find them. They show back up, eventually. Janus has a branch in his hair and remus' hair is sticking straight up and when he opens his mouth roman glares at him and tells him in no uncertain terms that they do not want to know

 AnYWaY these are my children and I will gladly answer any questions about them. I left out Janus Backstory and Creativitwins Angst and Many Individual LAMP Scenes and Remile/Dukeceit getting together and Epilogue but can absolutely provide such things on request

[let-it-raines]

your wonder under summer skies (14/18)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

Rating: Mature

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 

-/-

This place is decidedly more cabin in the woods than Killian was expecting. Well, if the cabin in the woods was a bloody large cabin made for groups of people in Maine looking for a weekend away from their regular lives. When he looked at the link Anna sent him when they were planning this trip, he didn’t look past the specifics of price and how many bedrooms there were.

So when he pulled up and saw the two-story cabin with its wraparound porch and large, floor-to-ceiling windows nestled near a lake, he was a little taken aback. Mostly, though, he doesn’t understand how the owners of this place decided to make every wall wood paneling and for each damn piece of furniture to be made out of a log or pine or something that looks like it’ll put a splinter in his ass when he sits down.

Hell, he’s pretty sure that he’s going to turn the corner and there’s going to be animal heads hanging from the walls.

At least there’s sunshine and clear water and all of the food and alcohol that a man could ask for.

Or, well, that could be asked for by a joint bachelor and bachelorette party that Elsa and Liam wanted, the both of them insisting that they needed a weekend away and that it should be nothing like the beach…so naturally they’re spending it on a lake.

Anna seemed to think it was all a brilliant idea, and since she is so keen on planning things, he figured he’d let her do it instead of getting into arguments over it. Or, well, he might have been distracted when she called to talk about the trip because Emma was on her knees in front of him, and he wasn’t paying attention to anything other than the feel of her.

“Why do I feel like every time I turn a corner, a deer’s antlers or something are going to poke me in the eye?”

Killian chuckles and turns to Emma next to him. She’s got a large duffle bag hanging over her shoulder, and he doesn’t know what she packed, but it must be all of the contents of her closet.

“Because you probably will.”

“Okay,” Anna shouts as everyone keeps walking through the front door, chatting and dragging in suitcases and looking around, “I have had all of the bedrooms labeled. Elsa and Liam get the master, obviously. Mary Margaret and David have bedroom one on the first floor, and Kris and I will take bedroom two, which shares that bathroom. Will and Belle, bedroom three, which is at the end of the hall just down that way. Ariel and Eric, you have bedroom four, which is right at the top of the stairs and will share a bathroom with Ruby and Mulan’s room, which is bedroom five. The final room is, like, basically the attic. Emma and Killian, you guys get that one. It may or may not be the kids’ room, so don’t be surprised if there are bunk beds up there.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Killian mutters. “Bunk beds? We’re twenty-eight. We don’t get our own regular beds?”

“Do any of the couples here want to give up their private rooms with big beds to go sleep in the attic in bunk beds so that Killian can have a queen mattress?” “For fuck’s sake,” Killian laughs, rolling his eyes at Anna, “the beds are fine. I simply wasn’t aware Emma and I were going to be punished for not having significant others.”

“Yeah,” Emma joins in, “we should get compensated in, like, first choice of food tonight.” “I think Elsa and I get that,” Liam says. “You two will be fine. I’m sure the beds will be comfortable, but Emma, lass, as someone who lives with Killian, you might want earplugs. He snores.”

“Liar.”

Liam shrugs, bright smile on his face. “Have some mercy on the poor girl, Killian. Try not to be too loud.”

Killian opens his mouth to keep protesting, but then he snaps it shut. There’s no point. He doesn’t snore, and Emma knows that. Why should he care if everyone else thinks he snores? He’s sure that half of the people in this room do anyways.

This is Liam’s weekend.

If he reminds himself that enough, maybe he won’t try to pick at everything Liam says and does, and they can all have a good time like they’re supposed to.

Even if he does have to sleep in a damn bunk bed.

Emma elbows his side. “I have ear plugs, but that was mostly because I was scared I’d have to sleep next to David and Mary Margaret.”

“Please don’t put that image in my head.”

“We’re in a cabin full of couples, KJ. How is the image not in your head?”

Killian groans and tilts his head back, and Emma laughs, nudging him again before adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go put our stuff up. My legs are stiff from the drive, and I’m ready to go hiking.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Anna squeals, “I have sunscreen and bug spray for everyone who forgot it. I’ll leave it in the kitchen. Let’s all meet up in half an hour, okay?”

“Anna is…very organized,” Emma sighs as everyone begins walking in different directions looking for their bedrooms. “I feel like she’s a very intense version of Mary Margaret.” “That’s exactly who she is,” Elsa laughs, walking next to Emma up the stairs, which leads them to a hallway with more wood paneling and more large, paneled windows. There are no animal heads yet, though, so Killian would count that as a win. “I think she wants everything to be so perfect for me that she’s taking it overboard. Plus, she’s used to working with all of these extravagant people, so this is kind of out of her wheelhouse. You’re just lucky my cousins couldn’t come this weekend, because that would make it even worse.”

“She’s doing a great job. With this and the wedding. I mean, the wood paneling here is a little much, but this is beautiful.” “Hey, I could have helped plan this,” Killian protests.

Liam, Elsa, and Emma all laugh at him.

“What?”

“If I was a betting man, I’d say the only thing you planned was the food and the alcohol.”

“And to that,” Killian laughs, “I’d say you were right. If I had gotten my say, I would have found a place with one more bedroom so that Emma and I weren’t sleeping in bunk beds while everyone else got normal rooms.”

“I mean, technically,” Elsa says, “I think there’s another bed in David and Mary Margaret’s room, but I think you two might be safer upstairs.”

They get to the end of the hallway where the master bedroom is, and Elsa and Liam tell them that they’ll see them in a few minutes before walking inside while he and Emma turn to find the spiral staircase that leads up to the attic. It’s beautiful, but it’s not exactly convenient when carrying luggage, but he and Emma manage to get their stuff upstairs without any kind of disaster.

“Those stairs would be horrible if you’re drunk. I feel dizzy just getting up here.”

“Aye,” he sighs, dropping his bag and looking around the room.

It’s small, just a set of chairs, a dresser with a television, and then, indeed, a set of bunk beds covered in red plaid bedding. In the center of the room is a round window, and when Killian looks out it, he has a direct view of the lake and all of the surrounding hills and trees.

He imagines none of the other rooms have a view like that.

“Wow,” Emma whistles, “a view like that will almost make you think the lake is better than the beach.”

“Never,” he laughs, looking at her to his side. “I like my salt water and my sand too much to ever give it up, but it is stunning.”

“I can’t wait to get to explore it. It’s so damn nice not to be working this weekend. I haven’t had an actual, multiple-day break in months, and I’m taking full advantage of it.”

Killian nods as he keeps looking out the window. He sees two people walk out onto the deck, and he believes it’s Ruby and Mulan. It’s hard to tell from here, but then one of them walks a little further out and he recognizes Ruby’s red shirt. They must be ready to go already. He needs to change into a different pair of shoes.

Turning around, Killian moves to grab his bag only to see the last seconds of Emma pulling down a sports bra. She’s in nothing but a pair of black shorts and a white sports bra, and dammit if she doesn’t drive him mad like this.

He’s grown to know the curves of her body more intimately than he ever thought he would, and that’s how he knows that she’s been running more this summer and that places where she was once soft are the slightest bit more firm and how he knows the way her skin has changed from a creamy white to a shade or two darker, all of her freckles showing up more and more.

It’s how he knows that if that’s all she’s wearing today, he’s going to struggle holding it together in front of all of their friends.

He doesn’t know what to do when it comes to Emma any longer.

He wants her all the damn time, but his traitorous mind keeps telling him that he wants her in a way that he hasn’t had her: where there are no rules or implications or anything even closely relating to the friends with benefits situation they’ve got going on.

Where Killian can get it out of his mind that Emma kisses him in greeting now, how she intertwines their fingers, how she finds a way to touch him even when they’re not alone. It’s subconscious, he thinks. She’s not doing it on purpose, not seeking him out like she would a boyfriend, but it’s still happening.

(It matters not he is also guilty of doing the same things.)

It’s messing with his mind, with his heart, with everything.

And all he knows is that he feels like he’s betraying her because what Killian feels for Emma is far more than friendship, and he has no idea how to deal with that without mucking it up.

Especially because he can’t seem to stop being with her.

Their first rule was to keep the friendship at the center of everything, to make sure that neither of them messed it up, and the more time that passes, the more time that he thinks he’s barreling them toward disaster.

But he can’t stop.

“You gonna just keep staring at me like that?” Emma teases as she ties a jacket around her hips.

“I don’t believe I was staring.”

She chuckles and saunters toward him until she’s standing toe to toe with him. Killian glances away from her face, but that only leads his gaze toward the top of her breasts and the freckle that seems to be calling him.

Not now, not now, not now.

“Oh, you definitely were.” Emma presses up on her toes and runs her lips across his jaw. God, this is another one of the things about her that drives him mad, and he has to focus all of his attention on his breathing to keep himself from becoming too aroused. “Later,” she whispers. “I really do want to go on this hike, and I’m not going to let you distract me, Jones.” “I thought you were the one distracting me.”

“Eh, it goes both ways.”

And then she’s pulling away with this bright, kind smile on her face, and he has no idea how she can go from seductive to friendly all within the span of five minutes.

“See you downstairs. I need to get Ruby to braid my hair, so I’m going to go ahead and go.”

“She’s out on the deck with Mulan.”

Emma nods, grabs her phone, and then walks out the door.

This weekend is going to be bloody torturous.

-/-

If Killian had to guess, he would say that David and Liam have gotten them lost somewhere in the middle of the woods despite the fact that they’re all following a trail.

Or, well, supposed to be following a trail.

At one point, Anna and Elsa got distracted by this flower bush, and once they veered off the path to look at it, wondering if they could get Elsa’s florist to change her bouquet arrangement, they all started veering on and off the path, especially since there are twelve of them out here on a trail that really only allows two people to walk side by side.

If someone had brought alcohol on the hike, he imagines at least half the group would be lying dead in a ditch by now.

Honestly, Will usually has a flask on him, but as far as Killian knows, he hasn’t pulled it out yet.

Damn.

Killian ignores David and Liam arguing and keeps looking ahead. Emma and Mary Margaret are directly in front of him, now leading the group, and he tries to focus on the ground instead of the way Emma’s ass is nearly on display from the way her shorts are riding up. She hasn’t paid him much attention since they started the hike, and he’s never been so thankful to be left alone, if only for a little while.

He hasn’t been able to run all week, and this is exactly what he needed, even if the quietness of nature is cancelled out by everyone talking.

“I’m not kidding,” Ruby chuckles. “It’s awful. I mean, I get it, these are teenagers who are getting away from their parents for a little while, but do they have to make out in booths that I have to clean? There are so many places they could go, places where I don’t have to look at them while I’m trying to do my job.”

“We’ve made out in those booths.”

“That’s different, and you know it.” “Why? Because you’re the one who is getting a little action?”

“Exactly.”

“Granny’s is a fucking popular make out spot,” Will adds in. “There’s the hallway that connects to the B and B, which has seen more action than Killian has all summer.”

“Oi,” Killian scoffs, turning around to stare Will down, “mind your own bloody business.”

“Sorry, mate. I couldn’t resist.”

“You know who I keep seeing there?” Will continues. “Neal Cassidy. I know he’s dating Tamara, but damn, you’d think they could go to one of their places every once in awhile.”

Killian cringes, nearly faltering in his step, and he finally looks up to Emma, who is simply continuing to walk.

Good. That’s good.

She told him that she was over Neal, that she’s letting it go, but you don’t love someone for that long and have them break your heart and not be affected when someone is talking about them.

“Will, shut up,” Belle hisses.

“Why do I need to – oh fuck,” he mutters. “I’m sorry, Emma. Please ignore me and that bloody wanker.”

“It’s fine,” Emma shouts back, not turning around. “Neal has nothing to do with me anymore. He can do what he wants as long as I don’t have to look at him while I’m eating my onion rings.”

“I’d never make you do that,” Ruby tells her. “I’ll kick him out.”

“Can you even do that?”

“Eh, I can try.”

“Look,” David interrupts, and they all stop to stare where he’s pointing. “There’s that damn split tree. That’s where we were supposed to be going.”

“How do you even know that?” Liam grumbles.

“Because I noticed it on the way up. We’ve been here before, so it we turn that way, it should take us back to the house.”

“Can’t we use our phones to check where we are?” Killian asks only to have both Liam and David glare at him. “Okay, okay,” he backtracks, holding his hands up, “I guess we’re not using technology to make our lives easier.”

By the time they’re back at the house, Killian’s skin has been kissed by the sun, his feet ache, and his stomach is growling with hunger. He could really go for a nap, but Kris offers to cook burgers for everyone down by the lake, so everyone grabs their swimsuits and some drinks and heads down to where the grill is.

Killian settles into one of the lounge chairs that’s set up down there, a bottle of water in hand, and leans back, wondering if napping outside would be possible, but then Liam starts blaring music over some speakers and he knows the nap is never going to happen.

“Hey,” Emma says as she plops down in the chair next to him, “why do you look like you’re about to fall asleep?”

“Because I desperately want to.”

“How are you tired?”

“Because, unlike someone, I drove us up here and could not nap in the car.”

Emma shrugs and curls her legs up in the chair before taking a long sip of her water.  “You make a good point, KJ. Do you think I’d get my hand slapped away if I went and got the bag of barbecue chips off the table before all the other food was ready?”

“Depends on if the picnic table guardian is looking over it or not.” Emma laughs and leans forward, looking over at the table. “David seems to be occupied staring at the grill being all macho man with Kris. I’ll be right back.”

And then she’s jogging over to the table, slowing down right before she gets there, and then grabbing the big bag of barbecue crisps before springing back over to him and sitting back down in her seat, dropping the crisps between them. David looks over at them, and Killian swears that he sees his eyes narrow, like he knows Emma took the crisps off the table.

“Sneaky, love.”

“I try. I don’t know why he does that at any event. It’s like he gets some weird high off of making sure no one gets too food, but the worst part is definitely the fact that he watches to see if people throw any uneaten food away.”

“It is rather odd, isn’t it?”

“It’s the worst is what it is.”

She leans over between them and opens the bag, grabbing a crisp and taking what he swears is the loudest bite in existence. David is likely about to look over at them and give them hell for it. The man is going to make a great father one day.

If only because he can monitor food better than anyone else in existence.

Killian leans back in his chair and settles down into it, closing his eyes. He stretches out his arm, his hand laying against the arm of the chair, and after a few moments of relative silence, he feels Emma’s fingers tracing over his forearm in soothing patterns that have a shiver running down his spin and settling in his stomach.

It feels so natural for her to do this, for him to let her do this, and he should stop it.

But he can’t, not now.

Soon. He’ll figure it out.

Soon.

“I’ve always liked this tattoo the best.”

“Hmm?”

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” She traces the words inked into his skin as she says them out loud. “I don’t know. I just feel like it’s so fitting to have them mixed in with your scars.”

Killian fights with himself to keep his eyes closed, to keep himself from looking into Emma’s eyes. Not a lot of people get such unfiltered access to his scars, and yet here she is in the open tracing them and talking about them and yet again making him feel like maybe they’re not too bad.

“I mean,” she continues, “I like all of your tattoos. They always make me want to get more than my buttercup, but I really like this one.”

“Aye,” he sighs, deciding that just for today, he can let everything be. This is a good moment, and he’s not going to let his mind ruin it. Instead he’ll let Emma run her fingers over his hand and let her hold onto him for a few moments. “I am fond of that one as well. I am also fond of yours, though it is rather small.”

“What? Do you want me to get a giant one?”

“You should get one that covers your entire back.” “Shut up,” Emma laughs, digging her nails into him. “I am obviously not doing that. I don’t know what I’ll do, or if I ever will. I think I’ll just stick to liking yours.”

“I like that plan. Do you think if I eat a crisp that David will hear it?”

“He hasn’t noticed me yet.” “Ah, but you have better luck than me.” “Guess you’ll have to try your luck to see.”

Killian slowly opens one eye, then the next, before moving his arm away to reach into the bag. He takes one bite, eyeing David who still has his back turned, before eating a few more. He thinks that maybe he’ll get away with it until David turns around.

“Jones, put the damn chips back on the table before I burn your food.”

“Sorry,” Emma says to him, shrugging, but he can tell that she’s not sorry at all.

“I think I’ll survive, love.”

When the food is finished cooking, everyone settles around tables and in chairs, eating and drinking and laughing. And it’s nice, a nicer time than Killian has had in awhile if he’s honest with himself. But then the night falls, crickets finding their places in the surrounding trees and a breeze wafting through the campground, causing a chill to travel down his spine as his skin pebbles with goosebumps.

There is a fire going, though, and plenty of alcohol being passed around to warm him, but really, the alcohol might not be the best idea right now, especially since Mary Margaret and Ruby tend to like to play games when they’re halfway to drunk.

Mary Margaret said something about how they needed to play a shower game. It was tradition, but Elsa and Liam hadn’t wanted that. Then Ruby stood up from the bench she was sitting on and declared that they would play Truth or Dare like the grown adults they are. They love their games, though, and, well, Ruby does know how to turn the game into something that is rather more adult than what he played when he was a lad. This is nothing new. They tend to do this at every party they have, but he never knows if it’s going to be tame or not.

So far Elsa has had to share some intimate details about the first time she slept with Liam, which Killian truly did not need to hear about, Liam has chugged down half a bottle of ketchup, Will has jumped into the lake, Mary Margaret has had to answer what the one thing she’d change about David would be, which resulted in a hushed argument, and Ruby has run to the neighboring house and asked them for condoms.

She came back with an entire box.

So, now it’s Ruby scanning the semi-circle they’re sitting in looking for her next victim, because, really, of all the people here, the last person he’d want to have pick out whatever form of torture this is would be Ruby Lucas.

His one glass of rum has not numbed him enough for this.

“Emma,” Ruby finally says, and Killian swears he hears half the group let out sighs of relief.

“I hate you,” Emma mutters, flipping Ruby off.

“Oh, no you don’t. You love me, and I’m going to be really nice to you by telling you that if you pick ‘truth,’ I’m going to ask you about the guy who gave you that hickey last week.”

Killian’s cheeks immediately heat, and he swallows, pushing the thought down. He hadn’t meant to do that. It had been an accident because they are not teenagers and don’t usually leave marks, and he didn’t even know it happened until Emma had sent him a picture the next day.

Shit.

At least Emma’s a damn good liar since it’s not like anyone is actually forcing them to do this.

It’s the spirit of it all.

“Dare, you asshole.”

There are a few whistles from around the group, and Killian already knows there are going to be a few follow-up questions to Ruby’s words later.

“I dare you to…kiss Jones. Killian, not Liam. And none of that on the cheek shit. You two have so much chemistry, and I need to see it. I feel like everyone here needs to see it.”

“Oh my God,” he hears Emma murmur next to him at the same time that he has that exact thought. The whistles increase, some hollering too, and he swears that everyone here but he, Emma, and David are drunk off their asses. “Ruby, no. Pick something else. Like, something normal that non-tipsy you would pick.” “You chose ‘dare.’”

“Because you were going to ask me something I didn’t want to talk about. I don’t want to kiss Killian.” She turns back to him and winces. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he mumbles, knowing she’s trying to save face.

“Why not? He’s super hot. I mean, I know you think he’s hot. You’ve said it before, and you guys kind of have that ‘will they, won’t they’ thing going on, which I have been saying all summer. We actually have all talked about getting a betting pool as to when you’ll finally get together, especially since you and the dumbass are no longer a thing. So, come on, it won’t be that bad. You’ve got to uphold the integrity of truth or dare.”

Emma’s lips part, and Killian knows she has a retort on her tongue. She always does.

But then she’s turning and leaning over her chair until she’s grabbing the collar of his t-shirt and pulling his mouth to hers.

Fuck.

Her lips press into his, soft and warm as they always are, but it takes him a minute to fully close his eyes and appreciate how she feels against him. Eyes are on them, whistles ringing out around the group, and Killian swears he sees flashes of camera lights as Emma sucks on his bottom lip and his hands thread into her hair, pulling her closer.

And for one, miniscule second, he forgets about the people around him and the warring thoughts he’s been fighting for weeks now, and he lets himself revel in how damn good it feels to kiss Emma Swan.

But then it’s over.

They part, gasping for breath, and Killian’s grip tightens on the back of Emma’s head as her forehead rests warmly against his.

Strangely, all he can focus on is the fact that she smells like sunscreen.

“Well, hot damn,” Ruby sighs, and Killian finally drops his hand from Emma’s hair, “I feel like I need a glass of water now. Anyone else?”

There’s a murmur of voices, but Killian ignores them, focusing on the way Emma is blinking at him with a smirk painted on her lips. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?” “No, that wasn’t bad at all.”

“Emma, it’s your turn,” Ruby reminds her. “Feel free to do your worst to me.”

“Trust me, I plan to.”

In the blink of an eye, things go back to normal. The attention is back on the game, not on him, not on Emma, and no one says anything else about the kiss.

Apparently everyone cares about it a lot less than he thought they would.

But it was all part of a game. It wasn’t real.

None of it has been.

And he has no idea how much longer he’s going to be okay with that. He also has no idea how he could make any of it real, even if Emma wanted that, because he’s got no fucking clue how to do this.

His brain doesn’t seem to be conjuring up any ideas either.

Shit.

Eventually, the game dies down, everyone quieting and forming their own circles and conversations, and while Killian tries to stay for a little while, when the opportunity to sneak out and go to bed presents itself, he takes it.

-/-

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[letsperaltiago]

the warmth of the sun

This is my little baby fic for @arnies-bitch and a part of the B99 Summer 2020 Fic Exchange! 🌼  The prompt is: Mac’s first time at the beach I know it's very simple and short but in between a full time internship and working part time I've been so busy. Hope it's okay either way :') And hope it’s somewhat what you had in mind, Mari! 🥰

Enjoy!

It’s the summer of 2021 and Mac is already a big 9-month old baby, when Jake and Amy show their son the beach for the very first time. Until then the two new parents have been busy working almost every day of summer away, with Mac being juggled back and forth between Karen and daycare, but hitting the month of July their beloved Captain Holt had demanded they take two weeks off to enjoy their first summer as three. 

Both Jake and Amy like to think they put up resistance but truth be told the parents are over the moon to get some much needed time off - even Amy who would work for free and fun if it came down to it.

Skipping a few days ahead and the little family of three is off on their first summer adventure: driving to the beach. All three ready, giddy and packed for the battle that is going anywhere with a baby that has recently learned to hoist himself up on any object within his sight - even objects that can’t stand his weight causing him to fall on his butt and his parents to laugh lovingly after making sure he’s indeed okay.

The fact that said baby now also understands the relationship between actions and effects, also better known as the hilarious game of ‘I will drop random stuff on the ground and mommy will pick it up’ makes everything even better. Everything is one big jumble of happiness and messiness.

Quickly after parking their car and unloading the million of things they’ve brought (having a baby will do that to people, Jake and Amy have come to learn), everything from a tiny beach tent to four different kinds of sunscreen with each their SPF, the family walks a bit until they find a spot to settle down in the toasty sand and set up camp.

“Are you ready, baby?” Amy coos effortlessly as if she hadn’t just spent the whole time she and Jake were unpacking the ocean blue sun tent for their son to nap in with Mac on her arm. Jake will never not be impressed with his wife’s strength, mental and physical, and the sight of her and Mac smiling at each other as she takes off his t-shirt. It is truly one of the many many sights he wants burned into his mind forever. “We’re going to see if you like the big waters, Mic-Mac!”

“He will,” Jake, who has just finished spreading out their beach towels, assures with much confidence in his son before walking through the soft sand to join them. “You are your father’s son after all.”

The smile on Amy’s face as her husband kneels down to their son’s eye level to talk to him is brighter than the warm summer day’s bright, yellow son. It’s no secret that she’s been slightly stressed out these past days, researching and planning how to take your baby to the beach for the first time, but now that they’re here she feels much better and confident. Mac usually loves bath time and even though the ocean can’t exactly be compared, being much wider and colder, she hopes his sentiment will be the same or at least somewhat alike.

“Wanna go? We’ll unpack the rest afterwards.”

Amy can tell that Jake is impatient to see Mac’s reaction and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t so herself. Normally unpacking first is her prefered way to proceed but today is different, she quickly decides.

“Okay. Grab his towel and let’s go then-”

She’s barely finished her sentence before Jake almost falls over in an attempt to run to find his son’s tiny towel. Though he does manage to save himself, good balance and all that jazz, and within seconds they’re heading to the water. Jake halts: it’s a sight to see and smile at: Amy with Mac on her arm, Jake right by her side with the tiny, yellow towel thrown over his shoulder, walking into the water as one great team. They clearly can’t see themselves right now but if they could they would for sure think that they looked hella cool… and adorable.

The moment of truth is upon them. They walk into the sea water which isn’t too cold, the still relatively new parents agree, before Amy slowly sinks to her knees with an oblivious Mac in her arms.

Jake has followed Amy down to his knees to carefully splash the tiniest amount of water onto his son’s chubby leg. Fear shows on both parents’ face when their son’s body freezes at the new sensation. Never before has the little one bathed in cold water before and while he has obviously noticed Jake proceeds in an attempt to make the best out of it. “What’s that, Mac-Man?” Jake coos joyfully taking in the sight of his son’s new discovery with great amusement.

“Should I put him in?” Amy asks nervously trying to decode how her son is really feeling besides confused before throwing a glance at her husband.

“I mean… He looks okay to me? Just a bit confused maybe,” Jake, just as much as Amy, hopes to find the right answer in his spouse’s eyes but it’s safe to say that it’s in vain. “Try? Worst case he doesn’t like it and you lift him back up. He’ll be alright.”

“Okay,” Amy confirms. She trusts Jake and she knows he’s right. It is just water after all. So, slowly, she sinks down further carrying Mac with her and soon the baby’s feet are fully submerged. He doesn’t say anything but simply looks confused, back and forth between his mom and dad with that chubby pout that they know so well by now.

“Yay,” Jake squeals playfully to his son to keep up the questionable morale.

“Is he okay?”

Holding him facing away from herself Amy can’t see her son’s face and relies on Jake’s point of view. She needs him to tell her that it’s all okay.

“Yeah, he’s fine. He’s just trying to figure things out, I think. Try to go further.”

“O-okay,” Amy forces a nervous smile even though she feels like a wreck on the inside. Her son is curious but also sensible, she knows. The last thing she wants is a huge scare and tantrum by the beach where they’re surrounded by hundreds of people who are here to relax. Either way she pushes away the doubting thoughts and sinks her son down till his legs are fully under.

For a few seconds the world somehow stands still. She holds her breath, bracing for a laugh, a cry, a scream? She isn’t quite sure.

Mac, on his part, looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh, cry or scream which prompts Amy to feel the need to pull him back up into the safety of her arms but just as she’s about to, Mac kicks both his legs and splashes some water onto Jake who’s kneeling right in front of him. Jake laughs and being a complete copy of his dad Mac laughs along in that high-pitched screaming tone he often does when he’s extra excited.  

“Was that funny, bud? Is it fun splashing daddy?” Jake coos.

Seeing his father’s reaction and wanting more of it Mac keeps kicking, squealing and smiling as if he purposely tries to keep both Jake and Amy laughing - which they do.

“You’re such a brave boy, baby!” Amy smiles, all stress and nerves far gone and drifted off to sea. All that matters is the fact that Mac is happy and having a good time. All three stay in the water for some time, splashing around, dragging Mac through the water and jumping around with him (mostly Jake as Amy witnesses nervously). Either way it’s safe to say that their little boy loves it. Neither the cold or the darkness of the ocean seems to scare him and both parents couldn’t be any more proud of his love for the big waters. A love so strong that Mac puts up a fight when his parents decide that he probably needs some warmth and a nap after so long in the fresh sea water.

“We’ll go back later, Mac,” Amy shushes as her son kicks around angrily as she tries to change his bathing diaper. “You need some nice, warm sun now.”

“... And sleep so mommy and daddy can pass out in the sun,” Jake complies from behind Amy where he’s curreently drying himself off. He earns himself a famous Santiago-roll of the eyes from his wife - even though she secretly agrees: she could really use some sleep.

It’s far from given though. Mac is not one to go down without a fight but, eventually, the baby is dry, clean and ready for what his parents hope will be a good, long nap.

Taking him bathing in the sea was obviously a huge moment for all three of them and of course they’re going to repeat it later, but right now Mac really needs a nap and Jake and Amy really do need time to simply enjoy themselves and the much needed time off work. Mac does not agree though - at least not right away. From where he’s already lying down on his towel Jake can hear Amy in the tent struggling to put Mac to sleep.

“Shh, baby, you need to sleep a bit now, okay? I know there’s a lot going on today and it’s got you all excited but that’s also why you need to rest.”

Jake smiles to himself hearing his wife trying to explain the logistics of a nap to their baby: maybe she’d taken his last name but she would forever be so very much Amy Santiago - which he loved. On the other hand, as much as Mac was a momma’s boy, Jake also knew that his son didn’t care about logistics. Especially when it came to nap time.

“Here, let me try,” Jake is quick to join his family in the tiny baby tent and lies down where he can just barely fit in next to a wiggling and gurgling Mac.

“Okay, Mr. Mac… Show daddy how good you are at sleeping!”

Amy isn’t the one to complain about Jake taking charge so she crawls back to her blanket as she overhears Mac’s impatient squirming and Jake’s various attempts at getting their son calmed down. It goes on, a restless back and forth between father and son, and Amy kind of wants to intervene but also knows Jake wants to and can do this. Plus, it means she can do crosswords in the sun without any interruption so she tries to keep herself busy, ignoring whatever is going on in the tent and soaks in the dearly missed feeling of relaxation.

Although she does frown when it’s suddenly been quite a while since she’s heard any noise coming from the tent. From either her son or husband. Actually, she checks her phone, it’s been so long that she’s almost finished an entire crossword in one sitting which is huge - she honestly can’t remember the last time she did that. A baby and crossword-time was rarely given.

“Jake?” She whisper-yells out for her husband but is left hanging with no answer. Only the sound of crashing waves and the occasional squeal from a seagull can be heard. Figuring it can wait, just a bit, she puts down her crossword and crawls through the sand to the tent.

Here, surrounded by the blue tinted light caused by the tent’s fabric, she is met by the sweetest sight: Jake curled up on his side and fast asleep with Mac right by his side. The little Peralta is passed out on his back with arms and legs spread out making him resemble a tiny, chubby starfish.

After soaking in the sight Amy of course snaps a picture and makes a mental note to herself: add this picture to Mac’s baby album under the title ‘Baby’s first day at the beach!’. Straight away she makes the picture her new lock screen photo because who wouldn’t want a constant reminder of the amazing day they spent at the beach with their incredible husband and cutest baby starfish?

[prettywordsyouleft]

Plan B

Prompt: “Did you not hear me say no right now?” -- @challengingwords​ challenge

Pairing: Do Kyungsoo x reader

Genre: roommates au / friends to lovers

Word count: 1004

“Why aren’t you packing? We need to hit the road in two hours time, Kyungsoo!”

Kyungsoo’s eyes shifted up from the book he was reading and shot you an incredulous look. “Did you not hear me say no right now? I don’t want to go.”

“Why not? Everyone else is going!” you complained and Kyungsoo sighed, attempting to read his book.

That was the problem. Had you said it was just you and him going to the beach for the weekend, Kyungsoo would be diligently packing right now. He would use the opportunity to eat good food with you, make sure you laughed the whole time and held his hand under the stars as you walked across the shoreline. He craved to be the only person to see you in your swimwear and most importantly, he wanted you to know that he was in love with you.

He couldn’t very well do any of that with everyone else around.

“Soo! Come on!”

Shaking his head adamantly and not letting on he had read the same line repeatedly in the past few minutes, Kyungsoo didn’t even look up when he said, “I’m not going.”

You still went without Kyungsoo and he was now regretting it entirely. For the first couple of hours, he merely grumbled around your shared apartment. You hadn’t cleaned up some of your messes around the place before leaving and he complained loudly about how he was always cleaning up behind you. Then he attempted to get some work done from home, exerting little huffs of bitter laughter when he thought about how you probably forgot something like usual and would be annoyed that he didn’t come with you since he would always have what you didn’t. His work soon forgotten, he began to worry about you not taking any sunscreen with you and knowing how easily you burned, he hastily threw some belongings in a bag before getting in his car, looking at the bottle of sunscreen on the passenger seat as fuel for his three hour drive. By the time Kyungsoo arrived at the Airbnb you had left written down in case he needed to contact you away from your mobile phone, he was a wreck, convinced if you didn’t have your own sunscreen, somehow this would elicit the help from the likes of Jongin instead. He needed to find you and ease his concerns immediately.

You tried to hide your smile when you opened the door he pounded his fist upon, Kyungsoo barging inside, panting as tried to calm down. It was as he scanned the small living space that he realised it was unnaturally quiet for a weekend away with all your friends.

He looked back at you for answers. You grinned. “Took you long enough, don’t you think? I was almost about to have a drink all by myself.”

“Why, where is everyone else?”

“They’re not coming, in fact, they never were,” you admitted, a tinge of colour invading your cheeks. “I didn’t invite anyone to join us here.”

“Why did you tell me you had then?”

“I was hoping you’d come with me to protect me from others. And when you didn’t, well I went with plan b. I know you too well, Soo. You no doubt were complaining about me in the beginning, convincing yourself it was a good job that you didn’t go.”

“Well, I…”

“And then you would try to distract yourself, but that wouldn’t work because I purposely left my sunscreen at home.”

“You did it purposely?! Y/N, I was worried you-”

“So you panicked and got in your car and drove all the way up here to me all for a bottle of sunscreen that I could have easily bought had I forgotten unintentionally,” you concluded, now smiling too brightly.

Kyungsoo let out a huff of air. “Then what?”

“Well, I was hoping you would relax when you realised I was here all alone and not spending my time curled up drinking wine with Jongin and listening to him confess his feelings for me instead. Fun fact, Jongin actually did that three months ago and I turned him down.”

“Wait, you did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You sighed heavily, stepping closer to him. “I’ve been waiting far too long for you to say this so let me just do it instead. I love you. It’s always been you and I knew you liked me too. Why has it been so hard for you-”

His lips met yours then, unable to take any more of this confession. Admittedly, Kyungsoo was relieved that you had told him how you felt but he was annoyed too. Had you mentioned earlier that it was just going to be the two of you, he would have confessed by now. However, the longer he kissed you, Kyungsoo realised it didn’t matter. Any of it. You were kissing him and he was enjoying every second of it.

Until his brain connected with something important. Pulling away from your lips mid-kiss, Kyungsoo stared at you, aghast. “What would you have done had I not come here? You were here all alone?! That’s worse than being with friends! What if something-”

Pressing your lips to his to silence his concerns briefly, you then shot him a look. “Did you really just stop kissing me because of a thought that doesn’t matter anymore? You’re here with me. And I didn’t doubt that you wouldn’t come. You’re always the first one to come and make sure I’m okay. And I definitely am now that you’re here.”

“Yes but-” He stopped seeing the way you arched your eyebrow, pressing his lips together firmly instead.

“Now can we go walk along the beach holding hands? I want to be like a typical couple visiting the beach.”

“Have you eaten yet?” You shook your head and Kyungsoo smiled. “How about we do that first and then walk down the beach?”

You grinned, nestling into his side happily. “I knew I could count on you.”

_________________

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[pockpop]

ateez reaction to their black s/o being insecure about their looks/skin tone

↬ synopsis: you’re feeling insecure about your looks/skin color and the boys are there to show you how beautiful you are.

↬ genre: angsty & fluffy

↬ requested? yes

↬ a/n: these are kinda long so i apologize haha also this request kind of hit home for me, brought back some interesting old memories and thoughts. but i’m telling yall now, don’t ever let anyone belittle you for the skin you were born with. every shade is amazing and beautiful! if someone does, send their ignorant asses my way. carry on loves :)

hongjoong ♡

for your birthday, someone had gifted you a skin care package and among the items was a skin whitening cream. at first you were pretty offended by the item and wanted to find it light hearted and hongjoong had told you to just throw it away, burn it or something but a few days later, you still found yourself thinking about it.

one night, you were just finishing up your skin care routine when you noticed the bottle and picked it up. just then hongjoong came in the bathroom to also start getting ready for bed when he saw what you were holding.

he didn’t say anything, just yanked it from your grasp and threw it in the trash.

“wha-“

“I thought I told you to get rid of that.” he looked more hurt than angry with you. when he realized you weren’t going to answer, he came up to you, grabbing your face gently, making you look at him.

“stop thinking it. your skin is glowing, that melanin is tight and right so let it be. okay?”

when you started laughing, he gave you a eskimo kiss, a warm smile adorning his lips,”okay, okay just promise me you won’t say that again.”

“what? tight and right? isn’t that what the kids say these days?!”

when you only laughed harder, he’d pout, bumping you aside so he could start his routine.

seonghwa ♡

“i don’t think that color would look good with your skin tone.”

the snotty voice made both of you look up from the velvet red lipstick box in your palm. one of the workers, a older woman, was standing near you, a fake smile on her. she reached in front you and picked up a darker color and held it out to you.

“this should..suit your skin tone a bit better i think.” you just stared at her and she tilted her head. seonghwa cleared his throat and took the box from your hand,”we’ll take this one actually.” he dug out a bill and handed it to her, “keep the change.” 

he turned promptly,placing a hand on your lower back and led you out that store. you said nothing, feeling the anger radiate from him. once you two reached the car, he was about to open your door when you spoke up.

“you know, maybe she was right.” he looked at you, his facial expression softened. “you shouldn’t have spent your money on this, i probably won’t even wear it.”

seonghwa was quiet for moment before he handed you the box,” put it on.”

“right now?”

he cracked a smile but just nodded in response. after doing what he said, he guided you to the car window and looked at your reflection. the red popped off your melanin, accentuating your full lips and bringing attention to your features that you didn’t notice before.

“that woman was wrong.you could put on green or blue or fucking neon yellow and it will still look good on you. your skin tone doesn’t have anything to do with it, she’s just being prejudice for the fun of it. i had to get out of there before i lost it on her.” you found yourself smiling a little and turned to him, “isn’t that supposed to be my job?” seonghwa bit his lip, trying not to smile, “no, more people should stand up to shit like that instead of just being bystanders. you shouldn’t be alone ever in a situation like that.”

he came closer, placing a hand on your chin, “plus, you look so fucking beautiful that i’m very tempted to kiss it all way.”

“i mean you bought it, do as you wish.” he didn’t waste another second before kissing you passionately, not giving a damn who saw.

yunho ♡

being in a foreign country, you were used to the stares, or at least you thought you were. you thought that no one really noticed you anymore and that you were finally getting adjusted. but your day was going horribly. a man spit on your shirt while you were walking to the store, a old woman refused to let you sit beside her on the bus in the only empty seat and she called you something hateful that you were happy you didn’t understand well due to wearing headphones. to make it worse, it was one of the first days of wearing your natural hair out and you had been so happy that morning.

when you came through the door that evening, yunho was in the kitchen humming away. you could smell something good being cooked and he happily turned to greet you, his face fell seeing your solemn face.

“hey baby, what’s wrong?”

you slumped into his arms, feeling so heavy and tired. he rocked you back and forth, pressing kisses from your head down, giggles escaped you as he kissed both of your eyelids,the apples of your cheeks, your nose, you cupid’s bow before finally reaching your mouth. the kiss was sweet and sensual, a warmth spreading through you instantly. he pulled away slowly, resting his forehead on yours.

“can you tell me what happened today?”

you tried to pull away from him but he started pouting so you stayed put but didn’t meet his eyes.

“i was so excited to wear my hair like this and finally just feel whole, but i guess everyone else wasn’t ready for all this i guess... i don’t know, i’ve enver felt so low in my life, so...black.”

the word came out of your mouth so harshly, your heart burned in response. yunho pulled you closer, the closest he could.

“what are you doig?” you said with a breathless laugh and he started rocking you again, “trying to engulf you in my love, just let it happen.”

he leaned his cheek on the top of your head and you settled finally into him, that comfort overcoming you again.

“people are hateful and gross. and you know, that’s okay cause guess what? they don’t get the pleasure of your company, but hey that means more for me!”

when you laughed again, he kissed your head and pulled away, “now get changed, i made your favorite and i would love to serve my beautiful queen.”

yeosang ♡

you had recently met yeosang’s family for the first time and you thought it was all going well until you overheard his father asking yeosang why he couldn’t have brought home a good korean girl or even a white girl. you didn’t stick around to hear the rest of the conversation. after he dropped you off at home, you barely talked to yeosang and it’s almost three days later and you’re still being distant with him.

you were kind of sulking around your apartment, you knew it wasn’t healthy but your mind was filling with old demons, insecurities about whether you should stay with him anymore, if maybe he could find someone more worthy for his father’s liking. these thoughts were haunting you and left you watching ‘friends’ reruns but not actually paying any attention.

but then your doorbell rang and when you opened the door, a distressed yeosang was standing there. he walked in, running his fingers through his hair.

“you haven’t been returning any of my calls, or texts, ignoring my facetimes. is something wrong? did i - did i do something? did you meet my parents too soon what-”

 you started shaking your head, “no, no you didn’t do anything i just -” you kicked the door closed and avoided him, going back to your spot on the couch, “I've just had a lot on my mind.”

“like what?” 

you shrugged, now fidgeting with your fingers, “like maybe we should break up?”

“Break up? he asked in disbelief and you shrugged again,” i mean it would make your dad happy right? to see you with someone...more suited for you. someone korean you know.”

but yeosang was shaking his head sharply,”how can you say something like that? do you see how crazy i went just from you ghosting me? why would i want anyone other than you?” he moved to sit beside you, grabbing your hands in his.

“i don’t care what everyone else thinks is better for me, i know what i want, i know who i want to be with and that’s you,” he reached over caressing your cheek, and out of habit, you leaned into his touch. “just you” he finished softly.

“okay?” he asked and you nodded, letting him lean over to kiss your forehead.

san ♡

it was hot. though it was nearing the end of summer, it was boiling even inside the house, even with the ac on blast. san was complaining the whole day about going out to the beach and it was a perfect day to soak up some sun.

he had been blabbering on and on about why you two should go out that he almost missed you mumbling about not wanting to get any darker.

“what did you say?”

“I don’t know... some people have been making some comments about how dark my skin already is and how I’m getting darker. maybe I should just stay in today? you go ahead, call the boys, I’m sure they want to go.”

but san wouldn’t have any of it, kneeling down in front of where you sat on the couch just so you could be eye to eye.

“you know one of the greatest voices of all time once said the blacker the berry the sweeter the juice.”

you had to laugh a bit, him smiling at seeing your face brighten.

“what? you’re quoting Tupac songs now?”

“it worked didn’t it!”

you grabbed his face in your hands then shook your head, “nah”

he’d scream and spend his whole day trying to show you that your skin is gorgeous no matter what it looks like. when you eventually go out to the beach, he purposely forgets to bring your wide brimmed hat and even the sunscreen, but that was an accident that he would regret later after the sun burn he endured.

mingi ♡

dating mingi had its pros and cons. of course, the pros outweighed the cons. but there were some days when you just couldn’t handle it. it had already been a rough week, your boss being nothing short of a dickhead and to make matters worse, the cyber bullying from unsupportive fans were through the roof.

it was expected after announcing you and him were officially dating after it being rumored but these comments were becoming malicious. picking at every single thing they could find, picking at every single insecurity.

you had spent the night scrolling through your mentions and they were just as bad as they were earlier that day. mingi was obviously a bit clueless, not aware of the fact you were getting bullied and he believed his fans were angels. you didn’t exactly want to ruin that image for him.

but the next morning, you stood in the mirror, your makeup laid all out in front of you but all you could do was stare at yourself.

maybe your skin was too dull, too dark. maybe your nose was too wide and your teeth were too yellow. maybe your thighs were too chubby, maybe your torso was too long.

a deep sigh escaped you as you let their words get to you, eating you from the inside out. mingi came in the bathroom, rambling and excited about your day together but he stopped seeing tears streaming down your face.

“baby, baby what’s wrong?” you didn’t say anything but instead just unlocked your phone to show him everything. you watched in the mirror his happy face turn stone cold, his jaw clenching and his body stiff.

“how long has this been going on?” he asked but didn’t even let you answer before he said, “no fuck that this is some bullshit.” he put your phone aside and turned you towards him, instantly reaching up to wipe your tears away.

“you are stronger than what they say,they are only speaking from hatred and jealousy okay?”

snifffling you shook your head, “I mean some of them are right, how could someone like you end up with someone like me?” even you hated hearing those words come from your mouth but nothing prepared you for seeing mingi’s eyes visibly express his heartbreak.

“if anyone is lucky in this relationship, it’s me. you are the prize, the golden ticket, the treasure I’ve been searching for forever.” he sighed deeply, leaning his forehead against yours, “please believe me when I say I love you for all of you and I wouldn’t want anyone else standing here, understand?”

when you nodded in understandment, mingi grinned and kissed you swiftly, “now come on! we have a date to get ready for!”

wooyoung ♡

you watched from afar as wooyoung laughed with her, his cheeks heated and his eyes bright. next to each other, they looked perfect, like they belonged together and not one person missed the cameras and media loving it.

you only agreed to go to the event because he begged you to but all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and disappear. while many had complimented your shimmering gold dress, it was her who had the spotlight and now touching your man’s arm.

you jumped a little when a man appeared at your side, you recognized him as one of their group’s associates. you had offered him a polite smile but his gentle smile did nothing to hide his venomous words that came next.

“people say they are gonna be the next couple. Korea’s next favorite couple, what do you think about that?”

when you just stared at him, he was about to continue but you excused yourself from the group you had been hanging with and walked across the room to where wooyoung and her were conversating, as you were walking past them, you buy him on purpose and don’t even apologize or glance back as you stormed off.

you had just stepped outside, the cool air comforting your heated skin when you felt a familiar grip on your arm.

“hey, where are you going?”

“I’m going home, woo, if you don’t mind.”

“without me?” he said with a laugh but seeing your expression, his laughter died down.“what’s wrong? did something happen? did someone try you?”

“yeah, you did. and I’m sure she’s still waiting on you.” you tried walking away again only for him to grab you again.

“my love, you know it’s only business.” he tried to say softly, but you shook your head, holding back tears.

“just tell me wooyoung, would you rather it would be her you were taking home? the way you looked at her...”you shook your head again and shrugged, “I felt invisible with her in the room, I had to bump you in order to get your attention! do you want to leave me for her? is that it?”

when he tried to touch your face, you stepped back, your vision blurring.

“I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”he continued to repeat, his hands reaching for yours and this time he kissed each one as he pulled you back to him.

“I got caught up in the conversation, I wasn’t trying to ignore you or make you feel invisible.” he wiped away a stray tear with his thumb before cupping your cheek. “forgive me, i am truly sorry. why in the hell would I ever think of leaving you? especially for a girl who wouldn’t grease my dry ass scalp.” he mumbled and you rolled your eyes.

“boy bye, I can’t with you! and also, you can’t give me those puppy eyes and expect me to just give in, you know it doesn’t work like that.” you teased but still kissed the inside of his palm.

“well damn at least let me try!”

jongho ♡

he’d be so confuzzeled. he seriously thinks your skin is one of your best features, and also your butt but he wouldn’t tell you that. so when you’re complaining and ranting about having to get a summer foundation and how your skin just keeps getting darker and about staying indoors for the rest of the year, he’d have to laugh a bit.

“nothing’s funny jongho! I’m serious! some old lady today called me darkie today! i was just seconds from cussing her ass out.”

he’d come up behind you to where you were standing by the vanity, wrapping his arms around your waist. he’d wait until you met his eyes in the mirror before saying, “You could be blue, green, periwinkle, fucking velvet and I’d still hit it.”

you gasped, turning to his chest but he only laughed keeping his hold on you.

“jongho!”

“I’m serious too! you should love your skin no matter how dark or light it is, it’s beautiful no matter what. it makes you, it’s illuminating and always smells amazing, like that shea butter stuff!”

your pout left your bottom lip sticking out and he leaned around to kiss it before whispering that you’re so so so beautiful over and over until you were a giggling mess.