#so you just sit back and enjoy the passing scenery as much as you can

[m4gp13]

Thinking about Luke's thread being cut before Percy even got to camp, thinking about Al's siblings being dead already by his first on-page appearance, thinking about Ethan having made the trade that sealed his fate before we even met him, thinking about The Oresteia "This was always going to happen. She's been dead since the beginning." thinking about John Darnielle "Their fate has already staked its claim on them from the moment they appear on-screen." thinking about Matthew Stover "This story happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it."

Thinking about Richard Siken "You're going to die in your best friend's arms. And you play along because it's funny, because it's written down, you've memorised it, it's all you know. I say the phrases that keep it all going, and everybody plays along."

Thinking about how fate is a tangible and unavoidable thing in the pjo world and every single time, it stakes its claim no matter what the characters do to avoid it. The three Fates know when your string will be cut and have full control over it. The oracle always knows who will die, where and when, while the people in question can only cross their fingers and hope the prophecy isn't referring to them. Because if it is, then it is.

[shadowbriar]

Five Hargreeves - Back To You

Pairing : Five Hargreeves x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.8k Warning : Angst. Season 4 references. Synopsis : After one too many subway trips, Five's plan of temporal refuge extended as he met someone he refuse to lose. Notes : I refuse to acknowledge what happened in Episode 5 and 6 though I use the gif of said episodes. Don't come at me if you don't agree. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Living in a small cottage by the lake has never been in his cards. To settle down and watch the sun sets everyday, hearing the rocking chair creak as he takes a sip of his coffee. This was beyond anything he could ever hoped for, anything he could afford. He knew that this wasn’t the life he’s supposed to lead. Lord, this wasn’t even a life he owns to begin with. But with each second passed in this universe, Five finds it hard to drag himself back to that subway and return to his own timeline.

“Enjoying the scenery, are we?” She whispers as she sits on his lap, clinging her arms around his neck “You know, I could really use the help stuffing that chicken. It is afterall your special request.”

The boy raised an eyebrow, “Shouldn’t I be off of any chores since it is my special request?”

“Just because it’s your birthday, doesn’t mean you’re having a vacation, big guy,” She reasoned “We’ve only got two hands and this house is only getting bigger than smaller.”

The boy couldn’t bite his grin when he leaned in to kiss her. His heart swells. She was right. The house feels like it’s growing along with them. They might not have much, certainly far from the wealth his father possesses, but it was much more than enough. Having her was much more than enough.

“You know that I love you, right?” Five asks as he pulls away, his left hand still cupping her cheek as his thumb caresses her gently.

“I know,” She nods, smiling “But you can’t sweet talk your way out of kitchen duty, Mister.”

Five chuckles, standing from his seat as he carried her in his arms, “Alright, Missy, let’s see what this chicken fuss is all about.”

—-

The muscles on his cheeks were aching but he couldn’t fight the need to grin as wide as he could. He was happy, watching her carry that awful looking cake out of the oven. The icing that supposedly spelled ‘happy birthday’ was crooked, its colour pale compared to the bright fondant covering it. Thank God the candles were their only source of light, otherwise she wouldn’t even bring it out, he reckons.

“It’s ugly, I know,” She says as she lets it rest on the table “But it tastes better than it looks, I promise.”

Five shakes his head, disagreeing with her discouraging comments as he steals a kiss, “It’s perfect.”

“Well, go on and make a wish!”

The boy closes his eyes. His hands holding hers as he whispers his wish: I wish for this to last forever. Her squeals of excitement was music to his ears as he blew the candles. It is indeed the best birthday of his life.

“I’d ask but I know you wouldn’t tell me your wish.”

“Who said I made any wish?”

“You did,” She says as she helps him cut the cake “You make that little frown everytime you say your little prayer, do you know that?”

“I don’t pray, Love.”

“You do. Well, not religiously, but sometimes you do. You say your little prayer, your hopes. You whisper them sometimes, but most times you just close your eyes and do that little frown thing.”

Five raised an eyebrow, “Have you been watching me?”

“I might,” She teases “I mean who wouldn’t watch such a handsome man like you?”

The night continues as the couple finishes their dinner. Fulfilled would be such an understatement for what he feels right now. Everything he ever wanted, everything he ever dreamed of, is served right in that room. He wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

“So can I take a guess about what you wished for?”

“Really, Love?” He asked, putting down his glass of wine.

She shrugs, “We’ve talked about everything else, haven’t we?”

“You know, there’s a belief that if you say your prayers, it won’t happen.”

“Well, you’re not saying what it was, I’m just taking a guess what it’s about.” She argues, still persistent “And what’s so bad with it not happening? Do you really want it that bad?”

“I— Nothing, I just don’t—”

“What is it that you could wish for? What is it that you don’t have?”

“Nothing, I’m not saying that I want anything, I just—”

“Is it your family?”

Five pauses. It was as if he was stupefied. He hadn’t thought about his family in a while. Shameful of him, sure, but after one too many subway trips, he figured that a little rest shouldn’t be so bad. He just had to find a timeline where there weren't that many people shooting at him. Perhaps take a week or two to rest and gather his strength before jumping into another subway.

It just had to be her. The girl he bumped into right after he got out of the station. He remembers vividly the concerned look on her face when she saw him. He was littered with bruises, dirt and dust covering his body. He looked more like trouble than a lover yet she still found it in her heart to ask if he needed any help.

And here he was, feeling the happiness in his heart wither as the thought of his family returned to his consciousness. He knew that the universe is cruel, that he couldn’t have the best of both worlds in this lifetime, that he had to choose between his lover or his family. Some nights he wonders if his family had succeeded in preventing another apocalypse without him. Some nights he wonders if his family had found a way to another timeline. Some nights he wonders if his family were still alive. But most nights he tried his best to ignore these wonders. His family must have found a way to stop the apocalypse, or at least escape another one.

Taking a deep breath, Five reaches for her hands. Guilt and regret were evident on her face. He knew that she didn’t mean to sound as cruel. Perhaps it was the wine that made their blood more sensitive or that the fatigue of the day had clouded their minds. Either way he knew that they both would be sorry when the morning came.

“I love you,” He starts gently “I love you more than anything in this and every timeline.”

A tear left her eye. It was painful. To love someone you know doesn’t belong to you. To desperately grasp into the moments you knew would end anytime soon. To selfishly stay in a relationship that was doom from the start. Neither of them deserved this, yet neither of them wanted to let go.

“It’s been six years, Five,” She reasoned “As much as I love you.. We can’t keep living like this.”

“Time works differently there, my love. Six years here might only mean a couple hours there.”

“That doesn’t make it any less wrong for you to stay. Those couple hours might be the most crucial hours for your family. They might be fighting for their lives right now, they might be dying, for all we know! You need to come back to them, Five. You have to.”

Five forces a laugh, “Wait, what are you saying?”

She remained silent. Her tears were falling, biting her lips to conceal her tremble. A bitter feeling is brewing in his stomach now.

“Your family needs you and—”

“Okay, stop,” He stood from his seat with an offended look “Are you breaking up with me? On my birthday?”

She looks away, unable to meet his eyes.

“Goodness, you can’t be serious.”

“What choice do we have, Five? One way or another, you’d have to go back to your family. They need you—”

“And you? You don’t need me anymore?”

Her jaw clenches, “That’s beside the point.”

“No, that is the whole point, actually,” He argues, this time coming close to her “I love you, alright? Why is it so wrong for me to want to be with the person that I love? I’ve lived more than a lifetime alone, why can’t I have someone for once?”

“You don’t belong in this timeline. I—”

“I belong with you,” He cuts in “It’s not the timeline that matters, it’s where you are. I belong with you.”

If there’s anything she loves most about Five other than his gentle and caring nature towards her, it would be how adamant he is once he’s set his mind into something. There’s no doubt in her heart about the genuinity of his words. But as much as she’s grateful and touched over it, she knew that they could only spend so long before the guilt eats them whole.

She lets go of his hands softly, placing them on his cheeks instead. She admires him. The beautiful man that’s now standing in front of her with his heart on his sleeves, announcing his devotion to her on the day when he’s supposed to be the one showered with attention and love. His eyes were glossy, clearly conflicted.

“I love you, Five,” She whispers, gently caressing his skin as if it was their last goodbye “But I can’t keep you here, I can’t. I can’t keep you from your family.”

Five looks defeated, silent.

“Don’t you want to know what happened to them? If they’re okay? If they’ve figured out how to stop the apocalypse? Don’t you want to know?”

“I— I don’t know.” He answers “What I know is that I want to be with you.”

“I’ll always be with you, Love,” She reassures, kissing his cheek “I might not understand how this whole different timelines work, but I know that whichever timeline it is, whatever universe we live in, I will always belong to you. I will always be with you.”

And he finally cries. His tears flowing and wetting her palms. His heart shatters, finally succumbing to the guilt he’s tried so hard to bury and forget. He misses his family, he wanted so badly to get back and pick up where he left off, but would it be worth it? Would leaving everything here be worth it? Would leaving her be worth it?

“We’ll find our way,” She reassures, pulling the broken man into her embrace “You’ll find me in your timeline. Maybe we’ll meet at the grocery store, or at a bar, or perhaps at another train station.”

Five chuckles a little, letting a shaky breath as he asks, “And if we don’t?”

“We will,” She says firmly, giving a little space between them so they could gaze into each other’s face “I’m too much of a troublemaker and you’re too much of a problem solver for us to not meet. It’ll be too hard to ignore each other with our nature, Love. We’re bound to meet each other, in any timeline, in any universe. Trust me.”

The boy forces a smile. He leans in, kissing his lover gently as if she’d burst into petals if he pushed too much. Her hold around his neck feels different. Like she wasn’t looking for support but giving one instead. He could feel her trembling a little as his hands pulled her closer by the waist. Her heart is breaking too, as much as his is, but they knew that it’s inevitable. It’s only a matter of time before time pulls them apart and it certainly would be much more painful then.

“I’ll find you,” He whispers “I promise.”

—-

Canada is certainly much colder than home. Five rubs his hands and blows some air to his palms in hope to gain some warmth, but it’s obvious that the only comfort he’ll find in this weather is to get in Viktor’s bar and ask for some drink. That is, if Diego could start the car and get them going.

“It says here that Viktor’s bar is only five minutes by foot,” Klaus says “Who wants to run to the bar with me?”

“No one is getting out of this car!” Diego says in frustration, irritatedly trying his best to start the engine “We’re going to get to his bar together, in this car. That’s the whole point of a family road trip. We go to the bar by car, not by foot!”

“Yes, but it’s freezing here, Diego! The heater is not even on!” Alison argues.

“Well, it won’t be unless the engine is on.”

“No shit, Luther,” Ben says “I vote to run.”

Lila raises her hand, “Second to run.”

“No! No one is getting out of this car!” Diego yells once more, hitting the steering wheel frustratedly “I just need to—”

And by God’s miracle, the engine turns back on. Though their trip would soon reach its main destination, the bicker done by the family persists. The coldness of Canadian weather and how the heater broke almost twenty kilometres ago has made the seven heads’ temper raise. They really need to get to Viktor’s bar before they start to kill each other.

“I’m out of here,” Five announce as the car gets into the parking space of the bar. He space jumped inside, finding himself on one of the empty stools “Good to see you, Viktor.”

“Five,” VIktor greets, a little startled but his smile grows “You’re here. Where are the others?”

“Still figuring their way out to get here. Can I get whiskey on rocks?”

“On it.”

Five taps on the wooden table as he waits for his drink. His heart was content, as much as it might mean now. Their plan to stop the apocalypse worked. Viktor managed to take the marigold off of Ben before the Cleanse happened and now they’re trying to get back or rebuild their life. For once they finally managed to stop the apocalypse from happening.

Right after they succeeded in preventing the cleanse, Five found himself running to the subway station. He could still feel his feet burning from how fast he tried to get back to the station, wanting to jump in the train and go back to her timeline, but once he got there, the station vanished. There was no trace of it, no matter how many times he tried to run around and look for it. The subway is gone. She is gone.

Perhaps it was the price he has to pay for saving the universe. One’s happiness in exchange for the lives of millions doesn’t seem to be a hard sacrifice to make, but it’s still a tough pill for him to swallow. He knew that she would be proud. That she would hug and kiss him for doing all the hard work in saving the world. But the more he thinks about it, the more it stings for such touch would only be as good as a dream now.

“You ordered whiskey on rocks?” A voice asked, breaking his train of thoughts.

Five’s mouth went agape. He couldn’t tell if he was daydreaming or if this was some sick new power he gained from the marigold, but she was there. Standing right in front of him with a glass of whiskey in her hand.

“Viktor said his brother ordered whiskey on rocks, I assume that’s you?”

“I— Uh, yes,” He stammers, getting off the stool “You’re here.”

Five couldn’t believe his eyes. In his heart he knew that they would meet again, that somehow the universe would let him keep both her and his family, but he never expected that it was true. He never expected that he would meet her again. Not this fast, not this way.

“Sorry?” She asks, raising an eyebrow “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” Five said, shaking his head and taking the glass “Thank you.”

The girl smiles. It was a different smile than what he’s used to seeing. There wasn’t much love in her eyes, but he wasn’t in the position to complain. The girl he’s staring at and his lover might be the same person but she’s yet to know him here. She’s yet to know that he’s hers. She’s yet to know that he loves her. She’s yet to know that he belongs to her.

“Sorry, but have we met before?” She asks, still staring back at him “You look very familiar.”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” He lied, offering his hand “I’m Five. Five Hargreeves. Viktor’s brother.”

She took his hand, telling him her name, “I didn’t know Viktor had a baby brother.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not really his baby brother. It’s— It’s complicated.” Five could feel his cheeks burning like a little boy, bashful “It’s a long story.”

“You mind telling me about it?” She asks, leaning on the table “I’ve got time. I love hearing stories.”

“I know you do,” He says with a big smile “Well, where do I start..”

[flowersforbucky]

higher than heaven

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 5.5k - my masterlist

summary: bucky's first time smoking 🍃 since the 40s. bucky finds you smoking alone one night, leading to two of you growing much closer.

warnings/tags: use of marijuana, language, brief use of alcohol, nightmares, ptsd, anxiety, pining and tension, heated kissing, friends to lovers, pretty fucking fluffy, no use of y/n, fem reader, 18+ only

author's note: no smut? gasp! everything else i've written for bucky has contained smut so bare with me, i just wanted to take a break for some fun and fluffy (but still tension-filled) toking.

a/n 2: bucky and reader smoke in this, but i wouldn't say that's the main focus of this fic, just something that brings them closer together. i tried not to focus too much on that aspect, and also tried not to give too vivid of descriptions of being stoned so hopefully readers who don't smoke 🍃 can still enjoy this fic for the fluff and feels. however, if this is a triggering topic for you in any way, please be careful and read at your own discretion 🖤

The Avenger's compound truly has everything you could ever need. A state of the art gymnasium and training center, indoor and outdoor pools, beautifully maintained grounds with walking trails and lake access.

And, one of your favorite things, no shortage of secluded smoking spots.

Tonight's choice? The roof directly above the living quarters. This is likely the spot that you frequent the most, out of sheer convenience.

You keep a couple of extra folding chairs stashed in the stairwell, for the rare occasions that you can convince Natasha or Wanda to relax enough to join you.

Tonight, like most nights, you're by yourself. You don't mind - you enjoy this alone time. You usually come up here after missions to unwind before passing out in your bed.

It’s a chilly night, with temperatures finally dropping down into the low fifties as the early days of fall approach. You're bundled up in an oversized hoodie, sipping on oolong tea to warm you from the inside. In your left hand you clutch the warm mug, and with your right you pinch the tail-end of a burning joint between your thumb and index finger.

You've been up here long enough to have already burnt through one joint, and you now take slow, heady hits of a second as you wait for the meteor shower that's expected to begin over the northeastern United States any minute.

The creaking of the large metal door that leads to the roof startles you, causing you to break your gaze away from the stars littered above you in the New York sky. All the times you've come up here to watch the sunsets over the lake, no one has stumbled upon you. You're surprised by who emerges from the doorway a second later.

Bucky freezes in his tracks when he notices you sitting just a few yards in front of him.

“Oh, sorry,” he pauses, seemingly glancing around the roof to see if there's anyone else here with you. “I didn't expect - I didn't think anyone would be up here right now,” he stutters out.

“You're good,” you smile at him over your shoulder before turning your attention back to the sky. “Trying to get a good view of the meteors?”

“Yes, actually,” he says, surprised. You hear his boots scratching the pavement of the roof as he walks closer to you. You look up at him when he comes to a stop right next to where you're sitting.

“Well, you've come to the right place.” You gesture towards the scenery in front of you - the endless inky sky overlooking the lake next to the compound. “There's some extra chairs stashed in the stairwell, if you'd like one.”

“I didn't know that you smoke,” he says curiously, eyeballing the blazing joint still clutched between your fingers. He visibly sniffs a couple times, as if to confirm that he is indeed smelling what he thinks he is. He doesn't acknowledge your offer of a chair, instead choosing to sit directly on the cement, criss-crossing his legs at the ankles.

“Are you going to tell on me?” You ask as if what you're doing isn't perfectly legal and your friends don't already know.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he smirks up at you, eyes flicking between you and the joint.

“Want a hit?” You offer, extending your hand towards him. He hesitates, uncertainty blooming across his features.

“I haven't smoked since the forties,” he starts with an awkward laugh. He reaches up, carefully taking the joint from you and pinching it between his own two fingers and inspecting it. “I still remember the last joint I smoked before finding out that I had been drafted. If I had known it was going to be my last, I would've appreciated it a lot more.” There's a hint of nostalgia in his words.

You picture it - baby-faced Bucky, in his early twenties, with glossy blue eyes and a lazy, content smile. The thought makes your cheeks warm, and a small, sad smile spreads across your own face. That was a literal lifetime ago, and you didn't know if he had felt as carefree since then.

“Well,” you begin after a sip of your tea. “You're no longer property of the United States Army, or HYDRA, or any organization. So if you want to smoke, then smoke. And if not, that's okay, too, but give me my joint back because you're burning perfectly good weed right now.”

He chuckles at your scolding before bringing the joint up to his own lips and taking a slow, long puff. There's a sharp inhale before he erupts into a coughing fit, smoke billowing out in a cloud in front of him. You give him a few awkward pats on the back while he works through the burn that he is undoubtedly feeling in his esophagus.

“Damn, I've missed that,” he sighs once he has regained his composure. He holds the dwindling joint back up to you.

You shake your head. “Finish it off,” you insist. “I've already had one tonight. It’s all yours.”

You expect him to argue but to your surprise, he takes a second hit. And a third, and fourth, while you sit next to him in an amicable, comfortable silence. Soon, there's nothing left but a small roach that he stubs out against the cement next to where he sits.

“How're you feeling?” You ask, knowing that his tolerance has to be in the negatives if he hasn't smoked in over seventy years.

“If twenty-two year old Bucky knew that I was this stoned off half a joint, he'd never let me hear the end of it,” he says with an amused smile, propping back on the palms of his hands to stare up at you.

“Well, I think one-hundred and six year old Bucky is doing just fine for himself,” you muse. “Twenty-first century weed has got to be more potent than whatever dirt weed you were smoking in the forties, so cut yourself some sla–”

“I did not smoke dirt–”

“Look!” you exclaim, cutting him off as you point up at the sky. He goes quiet, following your gaze.

You both watch in awed silence as flashes of bright white-blues and purples begin to dash across the sky above you. At first, there's a bolt here and a bolt there - but before you know it, there's dozens - too many meteors to count, here and then gone in the blink of an eye. Where one disappears, another takes its place.

You lose track of how long the two you sit there, on the roof, under the shower of the shooting stars - and it has nothing to do with being stoned. They are just that mesmerizing.

“I think we’re supposed to make a wish,” you murmur after a long while, remembering the old legend about shooting stars. You watch the last few meteors as they burn out, and then the sky goes dark once more. When he doesn't respond, you glance down at where he sits to find that his eyes are closed.

You smile to yourself - you didn't actually plan on making a wish, and you definitely didn't expect him to. You figure that he is just humoring you, but you can't help but think how adorable it is nonetheless. You can't stop yourself from snorting a laugh, causing his eyes to snap open and up at you.

“What? Did you make your wish?” he demands, his tone serious.

You hum. A familiar, glowing warmth grows from your lips and down to your toes despite the chilly night air as you stare at him. You tell yourself it’s a physical effect of the marijuana.

“I think I’m good, actually.”

••••••

Every year, a different member of the Avengers chooses a charity to hold a gala in honor of.

Sam's choice last year, Homes For Our Troops, build specially adapted, custom homes for severely injured veterans. Natasha's choice the year before that, Children of the Night, is a non-profit organization dedicated to rescuing and rehabilitating children who have been victims of prostitution.

Always funded by the Stark Relief Foundation, always held in the most high-profile and illustrious venues that money can buy, and always filled to the brim with every philanthropist and major news reporter in the state of New York.

This year, for the first time, it was your turn to select a charity. You decided on Women For Women International - a noble and worthy cause that you are proud to raise awareness and donations for. However, now that three hours into the gala, you are fucking burnt out. From the moment that you and your teammates arrived at the venue, guests and reporters began forming lines for their chance at interviewing you or getting their picture taken with you. You feel like you’ve talked to every person in the building, except for the one person that you truly wanted to. Add in a ten minute long speech addressing five hundred plus guests, you are drained. Physically, mentally, and socially drained.

“You did incredible with your speech,” a soft voice says from behind you. “All that worrying for nothing.”

You're exhaling a sigh of relief at the familiar voice before you've finished turning around to meet his dimpled grin and deep blue eyes. You think he might just be as ready as you are to get out of here with the way he's already loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his tux. His hair is tousled - though you haven't had a free moment to speak with him since the car ride over here with Sam and Steve, you have no doubt that he's ran his fingers through the short locks a few dozens times throughout the evening - a habit that flares up every time he's out of his element. With this being the first gala he's attended as an Avenger, and possibly the first gala he's ever attended, you're surprised he has any hair left.

“I wouldn't say for nothing,” you turn back to the bar in front of you and wave a singular finger to the bartender, signaling your desire for another drink. “I stuttered at least eight times, and lost my place on the page twice. I felt like I was going to puke shrimp cocktail and espresso martini all over the podium.”

You can see him grimace from your peripheral vision. He pulls out the barstool next to where you stand, and then takes a seat. You're pinned between the chair on the opposite side of you and his thigh, the cool silk of his pants tickling the bare skin of your leg where your dress cuts off just above mid-thigh. Close enough that you can feel warmth radiate from him and smell the essence of his piney aftershave. Subconsciously, you relax for the first time all evening.

“You are your own worst critic,” he reminds you, repeating the sentiment that he’s been saying to you for the last few weeks, anytime the gala or your speech would come up in conversation. “No one else noticed if you stuttered. They’re all too full of liquor, or too concerned with getting their photo op with Iron Man or The Hulk..” he trails off, glancing over his shoulder at where Tony and Bruce are both striking signature poses for some selfies with guests.

“And what about you? Have any of your fangirls begged you to take a picture with them?” You smirk at him as the bartender slides your martini across the countertop. You angle your body so that you’re now turned to face him, leaving practically no space between the two of you.

“More than I can count,” he exhales, and you force a laugh to not roll your eyes - not that you were surprised or that you could blame them for wanting their picture taken with him.

“Well, I’m glad that we were able to raise so much money,” you sigh into your drink. “But I would be lying if I said I’m also not glad that it’s over with. I’m ready to get these shoes off, submerge myself in a hot bath, and then sleep until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Always the introvert,” he murmurs, a sly grin appearing on his face. He carefully tugs the lapel of his jacket to the side and reaches his flesh hand inside, pulling out a tin of wintergreen Altoids. You look at him curiously as he gives the small container a shake. It makes no sound, seemingly empty of mints. You cock an eyebrow at him, about to ask him what the deal is, when a familiar, earthy scent wafts towards you.

“What’s in the tin, Buck?” you ask rhetorically, as if the odor isn’t a dead giveaway.

“Just a little something I’ve been saving for when I could finally get you alone tonight,” he shrugs, slipping the tin back inside the interior pocket of his jacket. Your heart skips a beat at the possibility that maybe he’d been wanting to talk to you, see you, spend time with you as much as you had him.

“I’m just happy to see that you finally have your own weed,” you tease, trying to polish off the remnants of your drink so that you can get the fuck out of here. “Now you can stop smoking all of mine.”

You’re just giving him a hard time, of course. You’d lost count of how many times the two of you have smoked together since the night of the meteor shower just two months ago, and you were more than happy to share your supply with him - he gives you a lopsided grin that tells you he knows you don’t actually mind.

“Hence why I have pre-rolled three joints just for you,” he quips back. “One for how much time and effort you put into this event, one for conquering your fear of public speaking, and one for how much of your weed you have let me smoke.”

Your cheeks warm at the thoughtful gesture. You swallow the last swig of the brown liquid and slide the glass back across the bar.

“What are we waiting for, then? Let’s go get a cab.”

Half an hour later, you and Bucky are in the backseat of the taxi that drives you away from bustling downtown Brooklyn and towards a park that Bucky had instructed the driver to take you to. You didn’t object, trusting that he knows this area of New York better than you do.

The driver comes to a stop next to a nearly desolate sidewalk that appears to lead to a waterfront walkway. Bucky hands the driver a handful of cash, tells him to keep the change, and hops out of the cab before extending a hand to you as you scoot across the seat to follow his exit. You mumble a quick thanks to the driver as he helps you onto the sidewalk and shuts the door behind you.

You pull your coat tighter around you, attempting to shield yourself from the chill of the November air. Fall is now in full swing in New York, and the short cocktail dress that you wore to the gala does little to protect you from the night air.

“Me and Steve used to come to this park all the time,” he tells you as he pulls the Altoids tin and a BIC lighter from his jacket. “I vividly remember having to break up a fight he got into just past that fountain when we were teenagers,” he motions towards a large granite fountain ahead of you, “when some asshole stole a kid's frisbee.”

You laugh as he passes you a joint and the lighter, able to picture the memory he describes clear as day. It's far from the first time he's told you about a time that he had to get pre-serum Steve out of trouble.

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” you mumble as you pinch the tail of the joint between your lips, inhaling as you hold the flame up to the opposite end. A wave of smoke instantly fills your esophagus and lungs with a familiar, comforting burn and you pass the blazing joint back to him. “He’d still do the exact same thing, too,” you add as you exhale the thick cloud of smoke that mixes with the cold air. “Only difference now is that he can handle any fight that he gets himself into.”

“Some things never change,” he says before bringing the paper up to his own lips. You follow as he guides you across a small grassy area and to the walkway that runs alongside the river. Truthfully, it’s too chilly to be on a park stroll at this hour in your current attire, but with Bucky’s body heat radiating from directly beside you and the buzz you feel from the weed, you’re surprisingly comfortable.

“One thing that has changed however,” he continues as you’re inhaling a second hit, “is how well I’ve started sleeping on the nights that we smoke together. On those nights, I don't wake up over a dozen times. Hardly ever even have nightmares anymore.”

Your skin tingles at his admission - a whole flight of butterflies erupting in the pit of your stomach that you push down. You know that he means this because of the weed, not because of you, but for some reason - maybe it's the way his arm keeps bumping against yours or the way the moonlight reflects in the pools of his blue eyes as he glances over at you - you let yourself believe, even for just a split second, that you're aiding in bringing him peace on those evenings spent together. On the roof above the living quarters right before bed, or at the edge of the lake's water when you stop after a late run to watch the sunset, or -

“I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm grateful that I found you up on the roof the night of the meteor shower,” he continues when you don't respond, his voice now possessing a nervous edge. Your mouth suddenly feels dry - the worst cotton-mouth you've ever had times ten. “For more reasons than one.”

You both gradually slow until you've come to a complete stop in front of a boat dock. Between the martini you had before leaving the gala, the effects of the marijuana, and the way he's looking at you while standing so close, you think it's a miracle that you haven't tripped in these ridiculous chunky heels and fallen into the East River. You clear your throat, hoping that you don't sound like a lovestruck teenager when you speak.

“I'm really glad too, Bucky.”

••••••

You stare down at the picture displayed on your phone screen as you and Natasha take the elevator up to the compound's living quarters.

Rolled and ready for you to be home reads the text attached to the picture of the joint pinched between the thumb and index finger of his flesh hand that Bucky had sent you ten hours ago, before your flight from Arizona to New York was supposed to depart.

Our flight has been delayed due to a thunderstorm. No current ETA your reply reads with a frowny face emoji at the end.

Now, at 2:16 in the morning, you are finally back home hours later than originally expected.

You were sure that Bucky was asleep by this point, and you didn't blame him. You wished you were asleep right now, too. Natasha slept the entire plane ride back to New York.

You, on the other hand, may or may not have spent the plane ride reading back over recent text messages between you and Bucky and zooming in on the picture he had sent you because for some reason you really like his hands. Both of them.

You were acting like a goddamn fifteen year old.

“What are you grinning at?” Natasha's voice snaps you out of your trance. You quickly shove your phone into the pocket of your duffel bag.

“I'm not grinning,” you lie, but it's Natasha - of course she sees right through you.

“You were grinning,” she shrugs with a knowing smirk. “But it's okay. We'll chalk it up to sleep deprivation.”

“I am sleep deprived, actually. Someone snored the entire flight back home.”

“For someone who wasn't grinning you sure are being defensive right now,” she retorts with a shit-eating grin as the elevator dings and the door slides open. You roll your eyes as you both step out into the hallway that leads to the living quarters. You turn to the left, towards your bedroom, and she takes a right but then comes to a sudden stop, calling your name. You freeze, turning to look at her with a raised brow.

“For what it's worth, I think you should go for it. It's obvious to everyone around you two.” She looks at you expectantly.

“Get some rest, Nat,” you huff a small laugh under your breath, and try not to smile. She doesn't press the subject any further.

Before reaching your bedroom, you pause at the door to Bucky's room. You don't knock, but wait to see if you hear any movement from inside. All that you hear is a loud static from his white noise machine.

Although you expected him to be asleep at this hour, you couldn't help but feel a small pang of disappointment that you hadn't been able to get back earlier. You knew you would see him tomorrow (well, technically later today), but you hadn't gone this long - a mere three days - without seeing Bucky since the two of you had become close months ago.

You quietly make your way into your bedroom and toss your duffel bag onto the end of the bed before stripping off the dirty, sweaty tactical suit that you'd been wearing since the early hours of the previous morning.

In your bathroom, you turn the faucet handle to the hottest setting and watch as the small room fills with steam before stepping under the showerhead.

You think about what Natasha said as you scrub your body clean and let the harsh but satisfying stream of water relax your aching shoulder muscles.

You wanted to go for it. Goddamn, you wanted to go for it. Every time you are alone with him - whether he's helping you train with target practice, or you're paired up together for re-con, or you're just simply eating breakfast together in the common area - you want to go for it.

All you have to do is stare at his stupid, pretty pink lips for a split-second too long and you're thinking about going for it.

But for so many reasons, you don't.

Though your heart wants more, you love your friendship with him, too. And you would be devastated if you tried for more and it didn't work out and you lost that friendship altogether.

You also don't know if Bucky wants more. Natasha says that everyone around you sees it, but he's never directly said it. You know there's an undeniable chemistry, but what if you're the only one experiencing it?

You watch the last few suds of your body wash go down the drain and turn the shower off, deciding that it's too late and you're far too tired to be thinking about this right now.

You speed through your post-shower routine, desperate to feel the silk of your bedsheets against your clean, freshly moisturized skin as you drift off to sleep.

You're rolling some deodorant under your arms when a deep, loud cry thunders from somewhere outside of your room causing you to let out a shocked gasp. You drop the object in your hand immediately and it falls to the floor as you rush out of your bedroom, wearing only thin cotton shorts and a matching tank top.

As soon as you step into the hallway, you are able to identify where the screams are coming from. Pained, booming yells originate from behind the door directly across from your own.

Bucky’s room.

You don't hesitate to twist the doorknob, letting yourself and shutting the door behind you.

The pale orange glow of a small table lamp in the far corner of his bedroom illuminates the room enough for you to make sense of what is happening. The sight before you makes your heart sink to the floorboards.

He's asleep - his eyes pinched shut and his brows furrowed together in obvious agony. He's shirtless, and his skin looks pale and clammy with thick beads of sweat littered from his forehead to his torso.

There's a meek voice in the back of your mind that tries to remind you that you don't know what you're walking into, as you've never encountered Bucky while he's having a nightmare before but he looks so fucking pitiful that your only concern is alleviating him from whatever prison of torment his mind is currently trapped in.

You rush over to the side of the bed, nearly tripping on the comforter that he's apparently through to the floor in his sleep. Both of his hands form tight fists, his knuckles strained pale. He lets out another guttural yell that causes you to instinctively flinch away.

“Bucky,” you say, attempting to keep your voice from breaking. “Wake up, Bucky. You're having a nightmare.”

He gives no indication that he can hear you, his head thrashing violently and fists slamming down against his mattress as he makes a pitiful whimper.

“Bucky,” you repeat, leaning down to perch on the few inches of free space on the side of the bed. You reach out to place your hand on the flesh of his bicep, about to attempt to gently stir him awake, when he shoots straight up in his bed. You flinch again, but don't move from your position next to him, firming your grasp on his bicep in an effort to ground him. His blue eyes are as wide as saucers and his chest heaves as he takes in his surroundings.

“You're okay,” you assure him in a soft, uncertain voice, rubbing your thumb in circles against the skin of his flesh arm. “It was just a bad dream. Everything is–”

“I could have hurt you,” he interrupts you, his voice faltering on the last word. “I could have–”

“You didn't hurt me,” you interrupt him back. “You're okay, and I'm okay, too.” He nods, and you can tell he's trying to convince himself that the words you say are true.

You quickly glance around his room until you find what you're looking for. Strewn on the floor next to his bedside table, you see a black t-shirt. You reach over, picking it up. You hesitate for a moment before slowly extending the fabric to Bucky's face, where you delicately wipe away the thin layer of sweat that glistens on his forehead. He relaxes into the movement, his eyes closing until you pull away.

“I'm sorry that I woke you up,” he murmurs after a moment of heavy silence.

“You didn't wake me up,” you assure him quickly. He watches you with something akin to guilt across his features. “I had just gotten out of the shower. We didn't get home until half an hour ago.”

He glances down, noticing your attire. You suddenly feel naked in only the thin gray shorts and tank top. You awkwardly clear your throat, reaching to place the t-shirt on his bedside table when something catches your eye. Bucky follows your gaze to the joint laying on his bedside table.

“I tried to wait up for you,” he exhales a soft laugh. “Ended up passing out around midnight.” Your whole body warms at his admission. The idea that he tried to force himself to stay awake just so he could see you when you got home makes you feel dizzy despite the fact that you're sitting down.

“Do you want to now? To help you sleep?” you ask, gesturing towards the joint. You don't even care that it's three in the morning and that you're borderline delirious from lack of sleep.

He takes one of your hands in between his own and brings it closer to him, giving it a tight squeeze as he shakes his head.

“No, I know you're tired. But could you just..” He trails off, bringing your hand clutched between his up to his mouth to rest his lips against the skin of the back of your hand. It's not quite a kiss, but it sends goosebumps across your flesh nonetheless. You're holding your breath without realizing it. “Could you just lay with me for a while?”

You nod your head in agreement without even thinking about it. “Yeah - yeah, of course,” you answer, hoping that you don't sound too eager while simultaneously knowing that your voice has risen several octaves.

You lean over once again, grabbing his comforter off of the floor as Bucky scoots towards the middle of the king sized bed to give you room to crawl in beside him. He extends his flesh arm away from his body, a clear indication that he wants you to lay in the space between his arm and his chest. You lay down, tucking your head under his chin so that your cheek rests against the mildly clammy but soft skin of his chest. He helps you tug the thick blanket across your bodies before bringing his arm around your abdomen, pinning you to him.

Luckily, you’re far too tired, and he’s far too warm for you to overthink it.

“You smell really good,” he murmurs into your hair and you hope that his preternatural abilities don’t pick up on the way your heart skips a beat. “I probably smell like sweat.”

You hum a laugh against his chest, sniffing the skin next to your nose without thinking about it.

“You don’t smell like sweat. You smell just as good as you always do, somehow,” you assure him, reveling in his unique scent of vetiver and something citrusy.

You’re both quiet for a moment, sleep threatening to overtake you at any moment when he brings two metal fingers to the underside of your chin and gently tilts your face to look up at him. Your breath is trapped in your chest at the close proximity of your lips and his.

“Remember the night of the gala, when I told you that I’d started sleeping better and having less nightmares since we’d started smoking together before bed?”

You nod, not trusting your voice to answer verbally. He’s so fucking close, you can smell the spearmint of his toothpaste from when he’d brushed his teeth hours ago.

“That was true,” he continues, looking down at you with an indiscernible expression. “But what I’m now realizing is that I don’t think it has anything to do with the weed,” he pauses, a small smile forming across his face. “It’s just you.”

You can’t stop the smile that blooms in return, just as you can’t stop what you do next.

Closing the distance between your lips and his own, you kiss him as you’ve thought about doing for months now. You’re hesitant at first, worrying that you’ve crossed that line that you can never go back over - but then he’s moving his mouth with your own in a synchronicity sweeter than you could have dreamed.

His arms dart under the comforter, wrapping around your body and pulling you even tighter against him. You bring one of your hands to cup his face as he sweeps his tongue along the swell of your bottom lip. You open up for him, letting him inside your mouth as you move your hand from his jaw to his hair - lacing your fingers through the short brown locks as he explores your mouth. Your thigh hooks around his, and it takes everything in you to hold back - to not swing yourself over him and lay the full weight of your body flush against his.

He’s just had a nightmare, and it’s late, and you’re tired, and you don’t want to move this sweet, special thing that you have too quickly.

He pulls away, and you fight against whimpering at the loss of the sensation of his soft lips.

“The night of the meteor shower,” he starts, his voice strained and his pupils dilated. “You told me to make a wish, and I did. Now that it’s come true, I can tell you what it was I wished for,” he pauses, running his metal thumb across your kiss-swollen bottom lip as you look at him expectantly, waiting for him to go on. “I wished for as many moments like that as I could possibly get with you.”

Your heart swells in your chest. You're convinced that you're asleep because this is something straight out of your dreams. You remove your hand from his hair, placing it directly above his heart to make yourself believe this is real.

“Speaking of meteor showers,” you start as you trail the tips of your fingers over the defined planes of his chest. “There's supposed to be a cool show at the planetarium in Manhattan this weekend. Do you want to go with me?”

His answer is a soft smile before attaching his lips to yours once more.

thanks so much for reading! as always reblogs and comments are extremely appreciated. i hope you enjoyed 🩷

other recent works by me: love language • delirium • it's nice to have a friend

[dooberific]

Hello~! I love reading your work so much hehe, I'm not entirely sure if you are open for requests so please disregard if you aren't. Can I request Harumasa and reader that they first met in the hospital as kids due to having the same disease and once they were discharged they simply forgot about eachother. Then one day, they met again (pure coincidence) and had a happy reunion. Maybe throw a childhood friends to lovers, fluff hehe. Thank you!

Subjecting reader to Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome is a more popular thought than I anticipated.

Still working on other requests as I have time, it took me way too long to do this but in my defense I’m back in the dregs of Uni.

❝ 𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘴 ❞

harumasa x afab!reader

genre: slice of life ig?? Reads pretty platonically imo, runs vaguely parallel to his agent story largely without reader interference (we keep it as canon as we can). Reader has ether aptitude regression syndrome.

summary: He didn't think ghosts from the past were so bright or so loud as the one that finds him at Port Elpis.

wc: 4.8k

Port Elpis was a lonely place. 

But that was just his opinion on the matter. 

Maybe in the eyes of the children that sat joyfully chattering next to their grandfather as they fished off the pier it would be a place full of happy memories, or the perfect backdrop for a romantic encounter for the lovers who walked wistfully along the seaside. 

But he had neither a family nor a lover to enjoy such memories with, and with his frail body perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing. “To live with no regrets” felt like an honorable way to go. There would be no one deeply hurt by his loss, no one to leave flowers at his grave, and just as briefly as his time was slated to be on the earth the memory of his existence would fade into nothingness. 

So he would quietly enjoy his solitude, savor the time like it was sweet on his tongue, and pretend for just a moment that life wasn’t as abbreviated as fate demanded it to be by capturing it through the immortal lens of his camera. 

The birds that floated in the sea breeze. Patterns of stone left in the sand by a previous visitor. The view from the top of the lighthouse. Colorful boats bobbing in the sea. The lights over the water at night. 

The scenery rarely changed but that didn’t matter, it was an excuse to feel the warm kiss of the sun on his skin and feel the whisper of the sea air tickle his weakened lungs, to pretend that once he returned to the quiet of his apartment that every image he took wouldn’t be doused in a deep greytone as if some secret melancholy bared its teeth and drained his day of its vitality. 

He still got the images developed but he stopped looking at them. They felt too much like having one foot in the grave, the hazy discoloration something he associated more with the burning dread that buzzed in his veins and prickled at his eyes when the ether became too overwhelming. He could save himself the money and the effort, stop taking photos he would never want to look at again, but it was never so peaceful for his troubled mind in any other place.

The sky was overcast, heavy clouds threatening to rain their contents down upon the world as the wind nipped viciously at his skin. The normal residents of the Port were nowhere to be seen, all the buildings neatly closed in the anticipation of inclement weather. 

He could have taken it as a sign to make himself scarce as well, return home and curl up on his couch while the weather passed and not risk catching a cold, but if his day was meant to be spent in dreary solitude he would rather take the moment to feel it against his skin than hide away with no company other than his own thoughts. 

Being soaked to the bone and riding the high of his careless actions would be a better fate than sitting with his thoughts that seemed more heavily laden with dread as the days passed. 

So he stayed. 

He stayed as his hair matted to his skin, heavy with rainwater that soaked through his clothes and stained his camera lens. His camera would be ruined for sure, it wasn’t waterproof after all, but he could buy a new one. He wasn’t good at saving money for a long time anyways.

The pictures would be terrible and blurry, all doused in their own dreary grey even as he continued to take photos. There was no warmth to be found in the once pleasant landscape, and he was prepared to give up all hope for salvaging his mood which was now as waterlogged as his sneakers before a vibrant color flashed to life across his streaked lens.

He lowered his camera, squinting into the onslaught of rain that rolled the waves viciously against the pier. It was an unfamiliar boat bobbing on the waves, outriggers neatly folded to attention. The vessel itself lacked any colorful ornamentation, the flash of color he had seen belonging instead to the figure that worked diligently on the deck. 

A bright orange pair of overalls.

He wasn’t expecting to see the boat again the next time he returned to the Port, but there sat the trawler at the end of the pier accompanied by orange overalls. He could put a face to the choice of colorful outerwear now, or the beginnings of one from where he stood. He had no reason to get closer, he wasn’t on particularly warm terms with anyone at the Port, so it took him by surprise when your face appeared so suddenly within the viewfinder one day. 

“Excuse me?” 

He startled, quickly dropping his camera from where he held it. 

Orange overalls.

“Have we met before?”

The question was innocent as it rolled from your lips, the rubbery exterior of your overalls squeaking as you shifted on your feet. Your gaze was intense but non threatening, more brimming with curiosity than anything as you studied his features closely.

“Sorry if it’s sudden,” your laugh was awkward. “I’ve just seen you around here a lot and couldn’t shake the feeling.” 

There was no need for you to apologize, he had also been struck with an uncanny sense of recognition the longer he looked at you as well.

“I get that a lot.”

 Your question was genuine but he couldn’t help the lie that pushed past his teeth. It was rare for him to be mistaken for someone else, especially when he was in the city. If you detected his deception you didn’t show it, clicking your tongue thoughtfully as you pointed at him.

“Middle school?”

Oh, so you were still convinced you had met before.

He shook his head. “No.”

“University?”

“Nope.”

“The grocery store?”

“You remember everyone you see at a grocery store?”

Your brow furrowed. “Guess not.” 

He was confounding you at every turn it seemed, but the nagging feeling of familiarity had yet to leave. You had grown quiet, gnawing your lip thoughtfully.

Your fingers snapped suddenly. “I’ve got it, were you… in the hospital for a while as a kid?”

“I was.”

Before you answered a distant call floated over the waves. He couldn’t make out the words but your head quickly whipped around, arm raising above your head with a dramatic wave.

“I’m coming!” You yelled back before shooting him an apologetic grin. “Sorry for bothering you, I guess I’ll see you around.”

He watched your figure recede down the pier, the thumping of your boots on the wood fading as you rapidly went out of earshot. 

Your next interactions were cyclic, short conversations with speedy exits as you would run back to your boat. He had some inclination to believe you had a homing beacon centered on him, as you managed to find him despite his frequent location changes, beaming at him with the same warm expression that nearly rivaled the brightness of your orange overalls.

You never mentioned your first conversation again nor asked his name, instead asking him random questions as they seemed to strike your fancy. About his favorite food, his favorite color, movie recommendations, if he had any pets, what he liked taking pictures of so much that he returned almost daily. It was largely nonsensical, and he found you harder to read with each passing day because your eyes seemed to sparkle as if the tiny bits of knowledge he divulged had painted some elaborate picture of him in your mind. 

Even with you sharing little tidbits of your own monotonous life you had tied his mind into intricate knots. Your father was a fisherman, more precisely a shrimper you had proudly proclaimed as you undid the straps of your overalls to show him the pink shrimp decal on the back of your sweatshirt. You never mentioned a mother or any siblings, nor any friends. You liked to swim but couldn’t do it often. Your favorite color was a very precise shade of pink, and you liked to read books about personality types and astrology when you weren’t busy. Mindless details that gushed from your mouth with absurd passion. 

Somedays he wasn’t sure if it was the sun or your vivacious personality that warmed him more, your happy-go-lucky mood infectious as you chattered away. You were quickly becoming part of his routine, strolling alongside him spewing silly facts about sea animals or begging him for little details on his day. 

Your characteristic orange overalls had been featured in some of his photography as well, cheerfully adding a splash of color to even the dreariest backdrops. You made shrimp nets look pleasant and the creatures even more so as you ran up to him, pulling one from your pocket as you waved it at him like a child with a centipede just to sneak it into his own pocket before he left. 

For once everything seemed dripping with color, the thrill of seeing your glowing visage as you waved at him from the deck of your father’s boat turning his stomach in a pleasantly warm manner. 

He broke his own rule. He got comfortable with someone else, comfortable in his limited time, in his own skin, and he missed the little signs until it was glaring in his face. 

The sun was warm enough that the sound of the waves was nearly sufficient to lull him to sleep as he sat dangling his legs off the pier, the water teasing his soles in a silent ploy to drench his socks. The day was quiet, almost uncomfortably so and he wasn’t sure why. Port Elpis was always lively when the weather was pleasant, but there was a nagging sense of unease that drew his lips into a firm line.

You weren’t around. 

He felt silly. The two of you weren’t close by any means, acquaintances more than friends. There was no reason to miss you, you were nothing but a loud disruption to his day. He didn’t even know your name. 

But if that was really all you were to him he shouldn’t have felt his gut twist unpleasantly when he realized your absence, nor when he finally saw you and realized you didn’t look well.

You looked haggard and pale, movements sluggish as if it demanded too much energy to fully pick up your feet. There was a constant grimace painted across your face, like each movement was laced with pain. You scarcely looked his way as you approached, eyes sunken. 

“Oh, hey,” you spoke through gritted teeth as your eyes wavered weakly. Even now you did your best to wave, hands trembling fiercely. “I can’t hang out today, sorry.”

“You’re sick.”

It was a matter-of-fact statement, no longer an observation. He would recognize that look anywhere, he had seen it a thousand times growing up. 

“Were you… in the hospital for a while as a kid?” 

He shouldn’t have been thoughtless. It was out of character for him to not pry into every tiny detail of the life of a stranger that had so unceremoniously pushed into his life, like a flower sprouting from a sidewalk crack. With a little effort he was sure he would have unearthed a medical history as extensive as his own, all starting from the same place with a name he tried desperately to forget. 

He rubbed the choker at his neck. He’d never seen your nape either, strategically covered by the hood of your jacket or a high necked top. He’d never questioned you on the days when you lied poorly to his face about why you had a limp, or why you looked so tired, always claiming it had been a long day and nothing more. 

Some highly trained intelligence officer he turned out to be.

“Let me help you.” The words came out faster than his body moved, swinging his legs back up onto the pier. 

“It’s okay.” You reassured, weakly attempting to wave him off. “It’s not that serious, I’m just tired.”

“Tired my ass, you’re sick.” He hissed. “This isn’t something you can play around with, now let me help you.”

You were lighter than he thought you were, but maybe he had anticipated more muscle to be hidden under the frumpy layers you wore daily. You smelled like a fishing boat but not in a way he found unpleasant, your arms wrapped around his neck as he carried you down the pier on his back. He could feel your body trembling. 

“I’m sorry.” You muttered regretfully, forehead pressed against his shoulder as he stepped off the pier and onto your boat, his step wavering for just a moment before he regained his balance. 

“Stop apologizing.” He chided as you directed him to where your room was under the deck. The space was awkward to navigate with you on his back, but if he experienced any difficulty he didn’t verbalize it, dutifully depositing you on your unmade bed. 

“I really am sorry though.” He wouldn’t be able to convince you it was fine, but he would be able to shoot you a disapproving look as he grabbed the heel of your boot and slid it off before giving the other the same treatment. 

You frowned, shifting as if you were uncomfortable in your own skin. “I’ve bothered you on your time off.”

“You’ve never bothered me.”

He tugged on the leg of your overalls, he would have to commend you on your dedication. As if interpreting his cue you unlatched the shoulder straps, allowing him to help you slide them off before he discarded them on top of your boots. At least you dressed comfortably beneath them, though he would let the ridiculous sparkly fish patches on your sweats go this time. 

He tossed your comforter over your head. “But you will bother me if you don’t rest.” 

You didn’t protest, flipping the fabric off your face with a huff. You knew he was right. 

“Hurry up and get better, I’m not going to wait forever.” He said curtly as he stepped into the hallway, pulling your door shut behind him.

“Wait!” 

He paused, the door hanging ajar. “What is it?”

You swallowed thickly, tongue fuzzy. “(Y/n). My name is (y/n).” 

His hand tightened on the doorknob. 

“Harumasa.”

The door shut, but Pandora’s theoretical box had already been opened.

He remembered you.

They called you the luckiest unlucky child in the world. It was a ridiculous name that you seethed at because you found nothing of your situation lucky. Your mother had claimed the record for longest lived patient with Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome, but such distinction meant very little when your father stood over her grave cradling you in his arms. 

Within a few years you would look just like her, idle in a hospital bed with numerous lines running from your thin, veiny arms as they kept you so sedate the childish glow in your eyes had faded into a drug induced stupor. 

You were lucky to be born, and unlucky enough to survive.

Most days were good, you were strong and vital as if the ugly veins of your illness didn’t lurk just below the skin. You ran through the halls, constantly attempted to escape to the lush yard of the hospital, sat with the other kids after they got out of surgery to give them offerings of crude crayon drawings and wild stories of swimming in the ocean and the creatures within it. 

But your bad days were palpable, the halls silent without you there to fill the air with wild stories and laughter. No one visited you when you had a flare up, tears and snot streaking your face as you silently cried through the pain that ignited every nerve ending in your body in such a way that even the act of breathing hurt in a near unbearable manner. 

Your father would sit in your room for hours at a time in those moments, anxious over your worsening condition up until the moment they barred him from seeing you. Before the week was over he had a court order that relinquished you of their care and returned you to him. 

The day you left, Harumasa had resigned himself to the fact that he would never see you again. The likelihood of either of you surviving childhood was slim enough, but to dream of meeting in a place outside the walls of the hospital was an idea even he didn’t dare consider. 

Seeing you now, seeing you grown, was almost enough to make him believe some good deity watched over the world and deemed you too kind to die young.

He would have to find a new place to seek solace, Port Elpis was becoming something dangerously close to the memories he sought to repress, but his body acted on autopilot and brought him back every day without fail.

One week turned into two, and just as the third was cresting you reappeared with a smile on your face.

You were stupid to take your health so lightly.

He was stupid to let himself become invested.

“I remember you!” Were the first words you said after reuniting with him, swinging your legs off the pier as you sat so close beside him your shoulders pressed together.

“It’s just been a few weeks, I’d be concerned if you didn’t.” 

You pouted, elbowing his side. “You know that’s not what I mean. I remember you from before, from the hospital.”

“Looks like we both grew up well, huh? But I guess you did better than me. Is it creepy to admit that I searched your name on the InterKnot?” If you were truly embarrassed it failed to show, a low whistle passing your lips. “Section 6, you went and became a real bigshot.” 

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

You swung your head low, teetering dangerously on the edge of the pier as you jutted your face into his line of sight. Your eyes sparkled with the same mirth that curled the corners of your lips. “Says the guy that doesn’t work on a shrimp boat. Take the compliment, even I’m proud of how far you came.”

You kicked at his ankle. “Not many of us have the chance to say that.”

Ah. There you went again, reminding him of a twisted past he couldn’t shake. Sure, his therapist thought it would do him good to confront the ghosts of his childhood, but he liked to disagree (if him promptly claiming he was “done with therapy” and “thanks for your time, doc” before walking out and never returning their calls had anything to say about it). There were too many things he wasn’t ready to face head-on, even if they crawled from the pits of despair and grasped at his ankles so fiercely that the thought alone slowed him down. 

But it did stir back the embers that burned his gut with unease from an interaction he had not that far in the past.

“Has anyone from the hospital tried to contact you recently?”

“Well yeah, they are all worried about my condition after my flare up.”

“Not that hospital.” He clarified. “The old one.”

Your eyes danced across the scenery for a moment, lips pursed in thought before you shook your head. “Nope, not that I can remember. Why?”

He left out a relieved sigh, shoulders slouching momentarily. He still wasn’t sure what his Master’s assistant wanted, or why he suddenly appeared before him now trying to toy with his feelings using other sick children as emotional leverage, but at least he hadn’t found you yet. He fished his phone from his pocket, unlocking it as he handed it to you.

“Put your number in there. There’s no reason for us to be strangers.” 

He was blatantly evasive, and you could certainly tell but you didn’t raise any qualms as you typed in your phone number. “Signal is spotty when we go out of the Port, so if I don’t answer quickly don’t get all worried thinking I got kidnapped or died or something.” You warned as you passed his phone back before puffing out your chest proudly. “I like to think I’ve still got a few good years in me.”

His smile when he looked at you was so sincere you nearly toppled off the pier in shock, one hand quickly planting against his cheek as you forcefully turned his head away while the other gripped the fabric of your shirt over your heart.

“Those interknot forums weren’t kidding,” your tone was distressed as you looked away from him, “your smile really is a deadly weapon.”

He laughed. He laughed at you, at the absurd way you managed to turn a rapidly darkening conversation into something ridiculous and sugary sweet. It was as novel as a syrupy popsicle on a hot day, the aghast and shy way you—the natural enemy of public embarrassment—had now turned. 

It was bright, vital, blooming with a color he didn’t think he could find in the world anymore.

Then it all grew violently dull.

[ Shrimp Girl ] Someone from the old hospital came to see me today

[ Shrimp Girl ] I think he said his name was Kirishima?

His stomach plummeted as he read your message in the wee hours of the morning, and it didn’t abate until he laid eyes on you working diligently at the Port a few hours later. The morning sun had yet to crest the horizon, the air hanging thick and grey with morning dew. You stood out like a traffic cone, bundled in a few extra layers to fend off the cold as you worked. 

It was his hurried footsteps down the pier that alerted you to his presence, a smile on your face as you waved at him. “You’re here early. What’s with the serious face?”

The scent of the sea and the creatures you had skimmed out of the water was almost noxious to his sensitive nose. He was afraid he only tolerated the smell when it lingered on your clothes. His nose wrinkled as he nonchalantly lifted a hand to it as if it would help the smell abate.

“I just needed to make sure you were alright. What did Kirishima want?”

“Nothing.” You said with a shrug. “He didn’t ask for anything, just the usual small talk you get from doctors. You know, “can’t believe you made it this long” and “you look great”, stuff like that.” 

He was beginning to question your survival instincts, anxiety bubbling in his gut. Kirishima may not have shown his true colors yet, but it was suspicious that he showed up looking for you after years of radio silence. His own personal connection to Kirishima made it less surprising, but his link to you was still vague and incomplete.

“Now that I think about it, he did mention that he’s working on some new drug, said he might open a trial for it soon.”

His blood ran cold, a hand quickly wrapping around your wrist. The serious expression he wore was new for you, his features usually relaxed when you ran into him. 

“Please don’t take anything he gives you.” 

You nodded slowly, feeling his fingers firm against your pulse.

“I’m going to be busy for a few days, so don’t look for me.” His grip faltered, slipping from your wrist to hook around the crook of your fingers. They were cold, not unlike his own. 

He didn’t owe you an explanation or some promise of a timeline. He could walk away from the Port and never turn back, find out what Kirishima wanted and pretend seeing a ghost from his past never occurred, but seeing the concern that knitted your brows at his words was enough to make him regret the sharpened tone he had used. He toyed with your fingers.

“I’ll buy you a nice meal when I get back, so don’t get worked up thinking I’m never returning or something.” 

You hooked his pinky around your own. 

“I’ll hold you to it then.” 

He was grateful your boat wasn’t in the Port the day he separated the children from Kirishima, something about the idea of you being far away from that place coming as a welcome relief. The kids would have liked you, loved you even. While he could put on a brave face and lie through his teeth you were so charmingly real that he had little doubt you would have been an inspiration, but you were too soft and there were too many hands yet to be revealed. 

You would have been another worry to plague his mind, and with the Proxy breathing down his neck it would have been hard to focus on navigating the current mess he found himself in. 

It was a mess indeed, like watching a carefully crafted tower crumble as the top became unsteady, unraveling in a glorious display of dust and ruin. He knew it would be the case before he agreed to meet Kirishima at the Port to look for where his Master hid his research, but he wasn’t expecting to see you there.

Maybe he should have expected it, you had seemed anxious at his curt communication over the past weeks while he gathering what information he could before an inevitable confrontation with his Master’s assistant. Maybe he should have expected whatever ugly connection with Kirishima that was woven into your past to rear its head at some point. 

Your expression was harsh, the edges of a bandage showing around the sides of your neck. There was a vial in your hand, your knuckles white from how tightly you gripped it.

“I did what you asked, now back off.” You hissed between your teeth as you tossed the vial at Kirishima, the man laughing as he caught it with infuriating ease.

He flipped the vial up to the light filtering from the industrial fixtures that shined from the shipping containers, a clear and colorless fluid washing within. Spinal fluid.

“I knew you would come around to my way of thinking. Why don’t you join us for a moment, an extra pair of eyes might be useful.”

Your gaze wavered to the blackened edges of the hollow behind him, taking a half step back as you shook your head. 

“Come on now, don’t tell me you’re—,”

Harumasa’s hand was heavy on his shoulder, Kirishima pausing just to glance back at his guarded expression, eyes flickering back to you for a brief instance as a impish grin tugged at his lips.

“Fine, I guess it can’t be helped.” He fished in his labcoat pocket, producing a folded stack of papers before he tossed them at your feet, the papers soaking instantly as they hit the wet pavement. 

He waved the vial at you tauntingly before he pocketed it. “Thank you again for your service, the children will be so appreciative.”

Your guilt ridden expression was the last thing Harumasa recalled seeing as he stepped through the barrier of the Hollow, the Proxy hot on his trail.

He didn't see you for weeks, his condition too fragile in the wake of the high ether levels he subjected himself to in the hollow. Whether it be Section 6, the proxy, or even the kids from the sanatorium it was hard to find a moment of quiet, though he couldn’t deny that it was a welcome change from his normal solitude. 

Everything had quietly pieced itself together. His master’s ultimate purpose with his research, Kirishima being prosecuted for his crimes, the children being given another chance at having a childhood instead of existing as human experiments. 

It felt…nice for once, the sun comforting on his skin as the sea breeze toyed with the tails of his headband. Everyone had long gone home, leaving him in silence once again. His eyes fluttered shut under the intensity of the setting sun, his lungs filling with salt-laden air as the inside of his eyelids stained a brilliant orange.

Orange.

Like the color of your ridiculous overalls, or of the novelty candy you insisted he try with you. Orange like the canned drinks you were fond of when you decided to treat him and yourself to a greasy snack from the stand back at the parking lot. The color of your nails when you decided to paint them on your day off, proudly waving them in front of his face. The same orange of your swimsuit the day you shucked off your normal wear and dove off the pier into the frigid water. You actually were a strong swimmer when your body wasn’t trying to destroy itself thanks to your shared disease.

Orange like the stripe painted on the side of the shrimp trawler that drifted by in the distance when he reopened his eyes, a hand raising to shield them from the harsh rays of the setting sun. 

“Ahoy there!” You shouted through cupped hands. He couldn’t see your face from where he stood squinting into the light, but he knew you were smiling, framed in a halo of vibrant orange.

"I'm ready to cash in on that meal you owe me!"

Port Elpis was a lonely place.

Was is the real curiosity if you asked him.

Rey 2025

[ollyissleepy]

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐬

summary: Linkon is officially decorated for christmas! Your boyfriend decided to take you out to enjoy the pretty lights and all fun festive statues! a/n: thinking of adding bonus chapters for all of the boys (like I did with that Rafayel request) so if you have some ideas I'd love to hear them ^^ cw: none?

series masterlist

"Enjoy!" The waitress puts your hot drinks on the table and walks away. Getting out of the house was Rafayel's idea, from grapevine (Thomas) he heard that the city set up christmas decorations and he really wanted to sketch them. After walking around the streets and getting some inspiration, the two of you decided to find a cute cafe with outside sitting area so your boyfriend can sketch in peace.

While Rafayel starts with his sketching, you look around. Enjoying how pretty the lights were, this year especially since you could enjoy them with your boyfriend. You're so lost in the way the decorations look that you don't notice Rafayel stealing glances at you. You both stay silent, happy with each others company, without the need to talk. Him sketching away, you looking around with your eyes reflecting the lights around you. You're not sure how much time passes before Rafayel speaks up:

"I'm done" he shows you what he drew, just like he always does. He drew you, looking to the side with your eyes sparkling. You could see the city's christmas tree in the background, but it was clear that you were the main focus of his sketch.

"But that's just me. Didn't we go out, because you wanted to work on tome pretty views?" You question Rafayel, really confused why he once again choose you as his inspiration.

"And I did" he says, waking a sip of his now slightly cold drink.

"You're the prettiest view for me"

You were on your ay back to your house, only worrying about what you'll have for dinner, when a voice from behind you scared you:

"Finally, started thinking that I should drag you back from that work of yours" you knew exactly who this voice belonged to. It was Sylus, your beloved boyfriend.

"What are you doing here?" You weren't expecting to see him today, knowing how busy he can be in N109 Zone.

"Heard that Linkon is finally decorated for christmas. Thought you might want to see it, kitten" he steps closer to you.

"I'd love that" you smile, when Sylus offers you his hand.

"I also learned my lesson and made sure twins are very busy so they can't interrupt us" you laugh, taking his hand.

You both settled on taking a stroll around city's park, that's known for decorating each tree with lights. You take in the scenery, squeezing his hand slightly. In the middle of the park, when usually are standing a bunch of vendors, is now a huge christmas tree. You stop Sylus, so you can admire it's beauty. You place your head on his shoulder, sighing slightly. You couldn't wait to decorate your own tree. The walk didn't last long, due to the cold weather. Before you know it, the two of you were walking back to your house, Sylus agreeing to stay the night there with you.

"Thank you for your company, kitten" he kisses your hand.

"Oh don't be like that! I little break never hurt anyone" you try your best to convince your very stubborn boyfriend to finaly go on a break.

"I can't afford to take a break" he says, looking at some paperwrok one of the nurses gave to him just now.

"Wrong, Dr. Grayson told me that the hospital will be able to run just fine if you take a small break with me." You take the papers out of his hand and place it on his desk. "Now, enough with this talking, let's go"

You knew, you couldn't take Zayne too far from the hospital as his break will not last long. Luckily, there's plenty of christmas decorations surrounding his workplace. You pick a bench close to a christmas tree, knowing that Zayne's legs could use a break too with all the walking around the hospital he done today. The two of you chat about your favourite ornaments you spot on the tree.

"I'm telling you that the white cat with sunglasses and Santa's hat is the best one" you argue.

"I prefer the big stars with blue glitter on them" Zayne says and you hum in response spotting one of the ornaments he was talking about.

Both of you fall into comfortable silence, watching the lights glow. After a while, Zayne places his head on your shoulder.

"You were right, little breaks are fine. As long as you're with me during them."

You and your boyfriend decided to meet up close to your favourite cafe so together you can go check out city's christmas decorations. You were running a bit late so once you got there, Xavier was already waiting for you with two sets if hit drinks in hand.

"This one's for you" he hands you your drink after the two of you greet. You thank him with a smile.

You start walking hand in hand with your boyfriend, sipping the drink he bought for you. "Look! There's some cutouts you take take pictures in!" You point then out to Xavier "we should try it!" You take his hand and start dragging him towards the cutouts.

"Would you like a picture?" The worker in elf costume asks, once they notice both of you coming over.

"Yes, thank you" you give them your phone and the two of you stand behind the cutouts. You take pictures with some of them and once you're done the worker gives you back your phone.

You and Xavier now move towards the christmas tree thats the main focus of this area of the city. You both watch the lights glowing on it for a while. Xavier takes out his phone and asks you if you want to take another picture with him. You agree and pose with him for a selfie. It was simple, the two of you close to each other, smiling with glowing christmas tree in the background.

"This one might be my favourite"

taglist: @iloveboysinred @leighsartworks216 @faeryminnyx @bellagrayson-wayne

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[notapradagurl7]

Winter Kisses.

Megan Thee StallionStud! x Black Fem! Reader

Taglist: @henneseyhoe @thecookiebratz @thecapodomme @keyera-jackson @playgurlxoxo @planetblaque @megamindsecretlair @hurleys-world @megantheestallion-ismypresident @sweettea-and-honeybutter @harmshake @sageispunk @onyxstones-world @satoruya @urfavblackbimbo @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @xblackreader @caashmoneynae @lesbiantreehugger

Summary: You and Megan decided to go to a lovely Air B&B for the winter, on the first night of a few drinks and. You ended up being closer than ever.

A/N: even though it’s fall I have thought of this cute fic, don't forget to leave a like, comment & reblog to support, feel free to ask for a request if you like! ❤️

Warnings: +18, dirty talk, nipple play, praise kink, sissoring, fingering, fluff, sloppy kissing, straight-up filth, a submissive Megan, degradation kink, mention of burnout, playful banter, dominant reader, spanking,

————

You sat in the passenger’s seat of the small black car while you peeked through the window, the tall woman sitting pretty in the driver's seat with her hand on the steering wheel, dressed in a snug turtle neck sweatpants that accentuated her curves, paired with high-waisted pants that hugged her hips perfectly.

The warm breeze tousled her black hair as she turned to you with a playful grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Are you ready for this, babe?" Megan asked, her voice smooth like honey. "I hope you can handle all this heat."

You chuckled, feeling a flutter in your stomach. "Please, I’ve been handling your heat since we met. This is just a warm-up."

Megan raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh really? You think you can keep up with me? I might just have to show you who's boss tonight."

You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms with a feigned look of confidence. "Boss, huh? You know what they say about the boss—she's got to put in the work. You better be ready for a long night, Meg."

Megan laughed, her deep, infectious laugh echoing in the car. "You think you can outlast me? You’re in for a surprise, baby."

Peeling away from the small neighborhood, you heard other cars passing by and the smooth jazz music playing from your playlist, calming you down as the lights from the houses faded away.

You were dressed in a black turtle neck sweater and matching pants, boots and tube socks on your feet. Your black and blonde locs hung by your face, a beanie and your brown skin and eyes sparkled with happiness.

“So we're going to an Air B&B for the winter? I'm kinda nervous?” You asked with a confused tone.

Megan turned to you, with a concerned look, "I get it, babe. It’s a little intimidating being away from home, but just think of it as a mini getaway for us. No distractions, just you and me," she reassured you, her eyes flickering with warmth.

You nodded, feeling a little more at ease. "You're right. Just us. I could use some time to unwind."

Megan chuckled, her laughter lighting up the car. “Right, that's the spirit, You’re feisty tonight! I like that. But just remember, when it comes to relaxation, I might have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Your sight was greeted by a scenery of trees and bushes, littered with snow in bundles, the feel of the holiday sometimes made you sad because it would go by so fast, but you wanted to enjoy this moment with her.

As you pulled into the private driveway of the cozy Air B&B, a soft glow from the porch light illuminated the snow on the ground. The trees near the cabin made into a home type of feel, the brown wood made you smile.

Your nerves shot through the sky and you grabbed her hand, pulling her close to your side, the warmth of your bodies pressed against each other made your cheeks heat up with fervor.

“It’s alright, I'm right here with you, I know you’re not much of a cabin person but I’m glad to be here with you…”

“Me too, I can do this..”

Pulling you close to her face, lips locked immediately with a soft smack, tilting your head to side and her mouth opened wide, your tongue swirling with hers, you moaned at the sensation. Pulling away from each other as you chuckled lightly.

“Whoa there girl, let’s get into the cabin first..” You said with a chuckle and smirk. Your hands gave her plump ass a smack and she chuckled with you.

The wooden cabin looked inviting, nestled among green trees with a slight dusting of snow. You both stepped out of the car, the cold air hitting your skin and sending a shiver down your spine. The gate behind the two of you was locked.

“Let’s get inside and warm up,” Megan suggested, her voice low and playful.

You followed her to the front door, and as she unlocked it, a wave of warmth greeted you. The interior was beautifully decorated, with plush furniture and a crackling fireplace. You admired the space, after placing your bags in the bedroom, the two of settled in the spacious living room.

“Wow, this place is amazing,” you said, glancing around.

“I know, right? I figured we deserved something nice for our little vacay,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

You gently plopped on the couch with your eyes on Megan who was still dressed in her baggy clothes, grabbing the hot mugs of cocoa from the counter. Walking toward the couch and passing you a green mug.

“Mm, this smells so good..” You hummed with a smile, before picking up the Roku remote and clicking on Netflix.

Megan plopped down next to you, her body radiating heat as she leaned in closer, her shoulder brushing against yours. “What do you want to watch first? Something scary?” she asked, her head tilted.

You chuckled, taking a sip of the warm cocoa. “I agree, I’m in the mood for horror too, nothing too mushy or lovey dovey. I’d rather not have nightmares tonight,” you replied, glancing at her with a playful smirk.

“I’m such a acaredy-cat,” Megan teased, poking your side playfully.

“Sure, but only if you promise to cuddle me during the scary parts,” Megan said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, I’ll do more than just cuddle,” you replied, a suggestive glint in your eyes.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you turned your attention back to the screen. The opening credits of a haunting scary movie filled the room, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts of what the night could hold.

As the movie played, you found yourself stealing glances at Megan, watching her as she laughed at the funny parts, her eyes sparkling. You couldn’t help but admire her beauty; the way her hair framed her face, the curve of her lips when she smiled.

“Hey,” she said suddenly, catching you off guard. “What are you staring at?”

You smirked, leaning back with feigned nonchalance. “Just appreciating the view. Is that a crime?”

Megan laughed, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “You know if you keep looking at me like that, I might just get the wrong idea.”

“Maybe that’s the idea,” you shot back, feeling bold.

Megan raised an eyebrow, leaning closer until her lips were almost brushing against yours. “Oh really? You think you can handle me when I get the wrong idea?"

Your heart raced as you locked eyes with her, the tension thick in the air. “I can handle anything you throw at me, Meg.”

With a playful grin, she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your lips. “You sure about that?”

“Positive,” you replied, your voice steady despite the rush of adrenaline coursing through you.

After finishing your hot cocoa and wiping the reside from your lips using a napkin, you scooted closer to her side. Cupping her face in your hands and brought her face close to yours. “I want to take this night with you further..” You whispered, kissing her lips twice.

Your lips pressed against hers, soft and plump just the way you liked it and glided your tongue across her lips. Moaning in the kiss softly, Megan kissed you back and wrapped her around around you.

Unbuttoning her pants and sliding them off, her boxers slide down to the floor. And you slid off her sweater, unhooking her bra with her plump breasts poked out beautiful.

Megan took off your clothes as well, littered across the soft rug and you gently pushed her onto the soft cushions, “This time, I’m gonna take the lead, baby”

The tall woman relaxed her back against the couch, her legs spreading out for you and rested your hands on her thighs, a rush of excitement zoomed through her, wrapped your lips around her throbbing clit. Her thighs twicthed from the slight peck of your lips.

Her breath hitched but she only moaned from every flick of your tongue, her juices coating your mouth, moving your head from side to side, “Fuck! Yes! Just like that..”

While your tongue rolled around her clit, your fingers slid between her wet folds, Megan’s head fell onto the soft pillow and balled her hand into your locs, pumping your fingers in and out of her ever skillfully, at the right pace. Megan’s hand gripped the armrest of the couch tightly, her thick hips rolling with the pace of your fingers.

“Bad girl, you don’t get to fuck yourself yet, you lil slut..” You shot back with a seductive tone, your hand spanked her thigh, the heat pooled through her. You couldn’t help but watch in awe by the sight of the woman pleasuring herself more with your fingers, your fingers pinched her clit, her essence gushed out.

“N-no baby, I’ll be good this time, I promise.” Megan moaned loudly, keeping her legs still just for you, still shaking from your pace picking up. Despite the command, she kept moving her hips and brought your lips to her clit again, your tongue flattened and swirled.

“Right there..shit!” Megan whimpers, her nails scratch into the soft fabric and moaned louder, feeling her girlfriend curled her fingers up, hitting a spot perfectly. Megan came undone and screamed out.

Settling on the couch, you crawled toward the woman who sprawled across the couch and bought your fingers to her mouth, “Open..: You commanded, watching her mouth open.

Sliding your fingers inside her mouth, watching her plump lips wrap tightly around, sucking and licking your finger clean, pulling your fingers out and kissing her lips tenderly. “You look so pretty..”

You carefully intertwined your legs with hers, pressing your pussy against hers, causing the both of you to cry out in pleasure, moving your hips with hers. “You like that? Your pretty pussy kissing mine?” You teased with a soft moan, resuming to move your hips.

All Megan could do was moan and wrap her arms around her waist, bringing your breasts together with your hardened nipples touching, tears “F-fuck! Yes! i love it when you fuck me good, you’re all mine!” Megan groaned with a raspy scream.

Pinching each other’s nipples aggressively with your fingers, your hips moved faster and you gasped, “Don’t stop…don’t stop! Keep fucking me good!” You cried out, your legs shaking weakly, kissing her lips again, whimpering softly.

The soft squleching sound of your wet folds latching onto hers, your essence coating over each other’s thighs and your clits throbbing together sent you over the edge, “Shit..shit..Don’t you hear how good your pussy sounds? So fucking wet with mine..” You moaned harshly, littering kisses and hickeys all over her neck.

“I love you…I love you…baby girl, you’re so fucking beautiful..” Megan slurred as if she was drunk, her manicured nails left welts on your back. You hissed from the pain and spanked her ass again, rolling your hips again. “Pussy’s too tight.” The sensations brought the both of you to cloud nine. Your mind went blank and tears rolling down your cheeks.

Both of you on the brim of a release, your hips swiveled in different pace, only going harder, “I love you more..fuck..” You moaned again, your tongue siding across her neck, wrapping your mouth around her breast and moaned in the tender flesh.

Making your pussy clench around hers, pleasure washed over you again and again. This was so good with her, your eyes rolled back. “I want to cum with you, baby” Megan begged, sucking your nipple harshly.

By her beg, you felt a surge of electricity course through your body, igniting every nerve ending. The way she pleaded for release made your heart race even faster.

“Alright, sweetheart. Let’s cum together,” you whispered, your breaths coming in quick gasps as you continued to grind against her.

You began to quicken the pace, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing over you both. The beads of sweat coated over your melenated bodies. Tongue kissing her with passion.

Your climaxes hit like a tidal wave, with a few pushes of your hips. You both of you cried out in unison—your bodies shaking together and twitched, your clits throbbed against each other and your essence gushed over your cores, feeling the clenching of her folds with yours.

The room was filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the soft crackle of the fire.

You collapsed onto Megan, both of you panting, trying to catch your breath as the aftershocks of your orgasms coursed through your bodies.

Megan pulled you closer, her arms wrapping around you securely. “That was…fucking amazing,” she murmured, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. Her fingers gently traced patterns on your back, a soothing contrast to the intensity of what just happened.

You chuckled softly, resting your head against her chest. “Yeah, amazing doesn’t even begin to cover it. I think I definitely brought the heat tonight.”

Megan laughed lightly, the sound vibrating through her chest. “You really are something else. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“Well, I guess you bring out the best in me,” you replied, looking up at her with a playful glint in your eyes. “And you’re not so bad yourself.”

She smirked, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “Just wait until tomorrow. We’ve got plenty of time to explore this cabin and each other more.”

You felt a thrill run through you at her words, the promise igniting a spark in your chest. “I’m looking forward to it. But for now, how about we clean up a bit and enjoy the rest of the night?”

Megan nodded, her eyes bright with excitement. “Sounds like a plan. But first, let’s take a quick shower together. I think we could both use it after… you know,” she said, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“Definitely,” you agreed, a smile spreading across your face as you stood up, offering her a hand. The two of you made your way to the bathroom, the warmth of the cabin wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. Washing each other clean in the shower, the steam cover the room.

“I could stay in here all night with you,” Megan admitted, her voice soft and playful as she leaned in to kiss you again, the water mixing with the taste of your lingering ecstasy.

“Same here,” you replied, pulling her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. “But we should probably get out before we turn into prunes.”

Megan pouted playfully, but ultimately relented, letting you guide her out of the shower. Wrapping yourselves in fluffy towels, you moved back to the living room, dressed in your pajamas and sat on the couch, where the fire still crackled softly, casting a warm glow.

————-

[takusan-no-ai]

Interspecies Relationships

PAIRING: Serie/Aura x Male Reader (Romantic) (Separate), Frieren x Male Reader (Platonic) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: They have a human for a lover, and Frieren has something to say about him.

Serie never was one to openly display her affection to others; even when it came to her precious apprentices. Though despite that hidden love, she always had a way of showing it without even realizing. The same can be said for you. How you met is still unexplainably random.

There Serie was, just reminiscing in a flower field; something she’ll deny doing to this very day. And then she looked up as a shadow gradually grew in size around her. What was supposed to be a painful fall after being flung into the air by a giant bird was instead a comforting patch of grass. Standing above you was a small elf. “Cute”. You called her.

She still smiles fondly at that day, quickly denying or laughing it off when you question her happy mood. Yet for as much as she smiles about it, a part of her is already dreading the bittersweet departure that is inevitable. You will die long before her, and for once Serie is forced to confront her near immortality with disdain.

But she isn’t some young elf with no life experience. Plenty of those she has loved are now lost. And so she intends to enjoy your mortality to the fullest. She won’t treat your life span like a passing thought; you’ll be her boyfriend, husband, and maybe even a father in a very short period of time. Elves don’t fall in love often, so it’s all a very strong, new, and exhilarating experience for Serie.

“Where are we going, Serie?” He asked for the ninth time. (Y/N) was being strung along as his elven girlfriend, Serie, marched ahead. Again, she ignored his question, opting for tugging his hand instead.

“Out.”

“Where?”

“Out.”

“WHERE?”

“Out.”

“…out.”

“Out.”

“Dammit.”

Finally giving up on the useless back-and-forth, (Y/N) resigned to just enjoying the pleasant scenery; bright sky, lush clouds, chirping birds, and a beautiful field of flowers. Suddenly, Serie plopped down on the grass and sat criss cross. (Y/N) fell down with her, now sprayed over her lap.

“Sit up, (Y/N).” She said, looking out in the distance. (Y/N) did as she instructed and followed her gaze. He was met with a beautiful sunrise.

Finally it all clicked in his head. “This is where we met! I thought I had died and gone to heaven when I saw a cute elf standing above me.” He said with no hesitation. Not even an ounce of embarrassment.

Serie blushed ever so slightly. “Ugh, you and your big mouth…you’re lucky I love you.”

Arrogant. Egotistical. Callous. These are the words that describe Aura, and all demon kind alike. She didn’t fall in love either, at least not in any normal sense of the word. Obsessed. Possessive. Entitled. These are the emotions she felt toward you, her supposed boyfriend. You were hers simply because she said so. And why? Simply because she can’t kill you.

Your strength came from none other than being mentored by the Serie, and to some extent, Frieren. The former took care of you throughout your youth, while the latter showed you a thing or two on occasion whenever you’d happen to cross paths. Your immense power, mana, and utter lack of fear wasn’t befitting a human. For once Aura felt terror. She couldn’t kill you.

She did the next best thing to survive, even if it was the most pride damaging thing: seduction. It didn’t work. You remained completely in control and kept her alive in case you ever needed a demon hostage. The power struggle against a mere human awoke something within Aura, and unceremoniously, she looked at you as a “king” of sorts. She wouldn’t kill you.

Aura quickly grew obsessed with your strength and saw to it that if she could convince you to “join” her side, then all humans would tremble before her with no hope. She’d mate with you, make you her husband, and rule over the world alongside you. Her fantasies are quickly shot down when you whack her on head. “Kill another human and I’ll kill you.” She could sense both the love and disdain in your gaze. She’d never kill you. Even if it was her wildest fantasy to do so.

Aura couldn’t move a muscle, her body stiff as a board. Why? Because of him. (Y/N) was fast asleep and held Aura in a tight grip with his arm, lying flat on his back. She wanted to get out. She could smell humans nearby.

If she could just escape and get a little bite. He never said she couldn’t eat from humans; he only said that she couldn’t kill them. Already she wasn’t taking (Y/N)’s threats seriously. Her arrogance truly knew no bounds.

Alas, his strength was still unimaginable even when he slept. Aura was this close to just biting into his neck. “Oh? Oh…oooooh.” Why didn’t she think of that before?!

She turned over as best as she could, now facing (Y/N). His breathing was steady, eyes closed, and face perfectly sculpted. This gorgeous view all for herself. No other woman, demon, elf, human, whatever, would be able to see this side of him. Aura could feel the massive ego boost just brimming.

No time to dilly dally though! She slowly leaned towards his neck, giving it a quick lick first, before biting down as hard as she could. Her jaws met rubber. A stress ball to be exact. “Huh?”

“If you’re going to attack, don’t be so arrogant and give your prey a warning strike.” (Y/N) said while pointing to the spot she had just licked. Aura’s face turned into an immense shade of red; from fury or embarrassment? She couldn’t tell.

“Bite on that every time you feel like relapsing. You’re going cold turkey for a reason.” He said with no apparent care and turned back around. In seconds he was fast asleep.

“Hmph! Nothings stopping me from leaving and feasting right now on those humans, darling!” Aura proudly declared as she got up and headed for the door. However, the moment she touched it her entire body shocked and she fell to her knees.

“Oh yeah. The door does automatic mana drain on all demons. That’s why I always open the door for you. Don’t bother trying the windows. The walls, floor, and roof too.”

She could just feel the smug attitude.

When you’re dating Serie, Frieren has to admit she was way more than just shocked. When being interviewed by Serie to become a first class mage, she WAS NOT expecting to see her siting in the lap of a young man. At first she thought maybe you were just a very overly affectionate apprentice. That was until she saw Serie smooch you on the lips with the most smug smile ever to exist in mankind.

Frieren actually almost passed out from shock. But throughout all that surprise, she’s genuinely happy to see Serie grow softer and value a human’s life more openly. She believes you’ll be a good change for Serie. And is grateful that her master’s master won’t end up like her and Himmel.

When you’re dating Aura, Frieren couldn’t be more disgusted. She was this close to just blasting you with zoltraak when she heard the news. Though thankfully Serie also taught you how to be calm enough to control the conversation even in a dangerous situation. You told her it was more so a king and servant relationship (with you as the king). Of course this was all according to Aura’s own words.

Words that Frieren took with the tiniest grain of salt imaginable. She begrudgingly let you go when you promised to execute Aura if she tried to harm another human being; that you keeping her alive was simply a fail safe in case of emergency. She doesn’t entirely believe you, and entertains the idea of you being mind controlled, but ultimately trusts you thanks to your abilities as a mage.

(Y/N) and Frieren met up in a nearby pub for their agreed hangout. It was less so a friendly meet up and more so a relaying of relationship progress.

“So, how is it going with her?” She asked.

(Y/N) took a bite out of his hamburg steak, smiling slightly. “Decently well.”

“Is she causing any problems? Headaches?”

“Less now. Though she talks a lot about you.” He teased.

Frieren sighed. “Of course she does.”

- Fin

[youaintnothinbuta]

“Are we there yet?” - Dad!Austin Butler x Mom!reader

Summary: You and Austin, and your little girl are making the long drive to your lake house for a few days in summer, which is never the easiest drive with a little one.

Pairing: Dad!Austin x mom!reader

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: none- fluff!! Dad!Austin! Hopefully no typos but you know how I am <3

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It was early afternoon when you, Austin, and Ella set off on the long drive to your lake house. The summer sun was high in the sky, casting a bright, warm light across the road. Austin was behind the wheel, dressed in shorts and a white t-shirt, and you sat in the passenger seat, wearing a light summer dress with your hair pulled back in a loose braid. Your five-year-old daughter was nestled in the backseat, her favorite stuffed giraffe clutched tightly in her arms.

Ella was full of energy, leaning forward against her seatbelt, pointing out everything they passed. “Look, Daddy! A red truck!” she shouted, her voice bubbling with excitement. “And there’s a blue car! And cows! Look, Mama, cows!”

You turned in your seat, smiling at her wide-eyed wonder. “I see them, Ella! What sound do cows make?” You asked, playfully encouraging your daughter.

“Mooo!” Ella giggled, making the sound loud and enthusiastic, causing Austin to chuckle.

You continued your journey, with Ella calling out every new sight—fields of wildflowers, clusters of trees, a barn in the distance. You and Austin exchanged amused glances, enjoying your daughter's unbridled excitement. But as the time passed and the scenery became more monotonous, Ella’s energy began to wane.

She started shifting in her seat, her brow furrowing in frustration. “Are we there yet?” she asked, her voice starting to edge with impatience.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” Austin replied gently, his eyes still focused on the road. “We’ve got a little while to go, but we’re getting closer.”

Ella sighed dramatically, slumping back. “I’m bored,” she whined, kicking her legs against her car seat. “And my butt hurts!”

You glanced back at her with a sympathetic smile. “I know, honey, long drives can be tough,” you said soothingly. “How about we play a game? I spy with my little eye… something green!”

Her eyes lit up for a moment, and she looked out the window eagerly. “Is it… a tree?” she guessed.

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Good job, sweetie!” But after a few rounds, Ella’s enthusiasm started to fade again. She shifted restlessly, her face scrunched up in discomfort.

“Mama, I’m tired,” she whined, her voice a bit tremulous now. “I don’t like this anymore. I want to get out!”

You and Austin exchanged a glance, knowing what was about to come. “I know, baby,” Austin said in his calm, soothing voice. “I know it’s hard to sit for so long, but we’re going to have so much fun when we get there, right?”

Ella didn’t seem convinced. She started to squirm around in her seat, her buckle tightened over her chest, only adding to the frustration, and a few moments later, the whining turned into soft crying, her little face scrunched up as tears began to roll down her cheeks. “I want out, Daddy!” she sobbed. “Please, I want to get out!”

You turned in your seat as much as she could, reaching your hand back to your daughter. “Oh, Ella, I know it’s hard, baby,” you murmured softly. “Here, let me help you feel more comfortable.” You gently draped a soft blanket over her legs and carefully removed her shoes. “There, sweetheart. Just rest a little bit, okay? We’re almost there.”

Ella continued to cry softly, but she clung to your hand, finding some comfort in her mother’s touch. You kept your hand there, softly stroking Ella’s tiny fingers while humming a calming tune. “Close your eyes, sweet girl,” you whispered. “Just rest for a bit.”

Gradually, Ella’s cries turned into soft sniffles, and then, as the steady rhythm of the car and the warmth of the blanket took over, her eyes fluttered closed. Her little chest rose and fell with steady breaths as she finally drifted off to sleep.

Austin glanced over at you, a gentle smile on his face. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice filled with admiration.

You smiled back. “It’s a joint effort,” you replied softly, continuing to hold Ella’s hand until you were sure your daughter was deep asleep.

After a couple of hours, just as you were about twenty minutes away from the cabin, Ella began to stir.

She blinked her eyes open, her small face creasing with a yawn. She sat up slowly, looking around in confusion before realizing where she was. “Mama?” she mumbled sleepily.

You turned around, smiling warmly. “Hey, sleepyhead. Did you have a good nap?”

Ella nodded, rubbing her eyes with her fists. “I think so,” she murmured.

Austin looked at her in the rearview mirror, smiling. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“Good,” she replied, still groggy. Then, her eyes widened, and she pointed out the window. “Look, Daddy! A deer!” she exclaimed, her earlier excitement returning.

Austin glanced in the direction she was pointing. Sure enough, a deer stood just off the side of the road, watching them with curious eyes. “Good spotting, El!” he said, grinning. “We’re almost there, sweetheart. Just a little longer.”

Ella perked up at this news. “Really? How much longer?”

“About twenty minutes,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder with a reassuring smile. “And then we’ll be at the cabin, and you can stretch your legs and run around all you want.”

Ella’s face lit up with a smile. “Okay! I can wait twenty minutes,” she declared, sitting up straighter in her seat.

You continued down the winding forest roads, the scenery changing from thick clusters of trees to the sparkling surface of the lake as you drew nearer. When you finally pulled up to the cabin, nestled among the trees with a clear view of the water, Ella’s excitement returned in full force.

“We’re here! We’re here!” she squealed, bouncing in her seat.

Austin chuckled, pulling the car into the driveway and putting it in park. “Alright, we made it!” he announced, turning to look at you and Ella.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned around to Ella. “Okay, El, let’s get you out,” you said, opening your door and stepping out. You came around to the back, opening her door and carefully helping her out of her seat.

Ella jumped down, stretching her arms wide. “Yay! We’re here!” she cheered, looking up at the tall trees around them.

Austin smiled as he stepped out of the car, stretching his back before heading to the trunk to grab the bags. “I’ll get everything,” he called over his shoulder. “You two go inside.”

You took Ella’s hand, guiding her toward the front door. Ella nodded eagerly, squeezing your hand. “Mommy! Can we go down to the water?”

“Of course, sweetheart. We’ll do that as soon as we get settled in,” you replied, giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head.

Austin was making trips between the car and the house, his strong arms loaded with your things, dropping everything off in the doorway. Ella giggled, running up to him and wrapping her arms around his legs.

Austin smiled, handing Ella her swimsuit, “if you ask mama nicely, she might help you get changed so you can get into the water.”

Ella looked up at you with puppy dog eyes, “Please mama? Please?”

“Alright, monkey, come on, let’s go to your bedroom.” You said, gently guiding her out of Austin’s way so he could bring everything in and get the fridge all stocked up for the weekend without Ella running laps around him.

[fashionteahouse]

Can I get one where it’s embry x reader and he imprints on the “rez slut” because of a rumor that had started but in reality embry is her one and only and the she gets teased a lot by the pack and imprints cause they don’t know the truth but they realize that they r doing they same thing to her that the rez do to them judge them off a rumor

ofc you can! hope you enjoy :)

don’t let me be misunderstood - embry x reader

>>next

Embry never met the set of eyes. He sat at the beach with his pack brothers, talking about nonsense after a game of football. His eyes were taking in the scenery, not really focusing on being included in the conversation.

He did notice the dying down of the conversation and this made him look at the people he came with. They were all sharing a look with one another. This made Embry have a peak in curiosity.

“What?” he asks them and they show their eyes to him.

Jacob just nods ahead, “Just let the litter pass on through.” This makes a couple of snorts and a mix of snickers. Embry didn’t know what he meant by that so he turns to look.

He saw a figure walking pass. You kept your head aimed away from the group of boys watching you. Embry suddenly hear a smart remark from one of his pack brothers, “Don’t breathe over here.” This brings cackling. Murmurs of them not wanting to catch any germs you might have, united them in a huddle of laughter.

You decide to walk faster. Trying your best to ignore the insults, the remarks, and the laughter. They all haunted you. These people didn’t know you at all and they decided that they do know.

Embry shakes his head, his selfless heart not being able to let someone get bullied. “Chill out.” He hissed at them. The group didn’t take him seriously, laughing as if he joined in with them.

“Don’t worry. She won’t feel it.” Jared says and the laughter is more powerful, livening up like gasoline on a fire.

Embry had enough, he refused to be embarrassed on behalf of them.

“Let them be the assholes.” Embry decided in his head.

Embry walked faster to catch up with you. You heard the fast footsteps and you pick up your pace.

“Wait… Please?” Embry says as nice as possible, trying not to scare you away.

You slowly turn around. He held you right there in the center of the earth. You couldn’t move. You didn’t want to move. He was wrapped around your finger. Soul to soul, you both meshed.

You became sad. This feeling was overwhelming. All you could think in your mind was, “He knows the rumors.”

“H-hi.” Embry finally speaks out. He gently clears his throat.

You just wave. Not knowing what’s going to come next.

“I just wanted to say sorry for what happened earlier.” Embry says in a shade of shame.

“It’s okay.” you quietly say. You turn to walk away but Embry calls out to you, “Hey! Um…” he starts and then he walks closer.

You turn back around, “What's your name?” he says to your face. You’re shocked.

“Y/N.” you answer quietly. He nods and smiles.

“Pretty name.. I’m Embry.” he holds out his hand and you’re afraid to shake it. So much has happened for you to trust anything.

“She knows the rumors.” Embry thinks in his head as he retracts his hand and decides to stuff it in his pocket.

Rumors spreading throughout the rez like wildfire. You both weren’t surprised.

“Um.. I’ll see you around?” Embry suggests. You just nod and walk away.

Heads were shaking with disproval when Embry reached the spot where his pack brothers were sitting on fallen logs. Embry plops down.

“Even if spit lands on your mouth, you’re done.” Quil says.

“Go to hell.” Embry tells him.

“We’re trying to save you from burnt dick.” Paul adds in.

“You’re the one to try to give advice.” Embry says.

“Come on..raise your standards. You kiss her, you’ll kiss the entire rez.” Jared says snickering.

You saw Embry again. You decided to ride your bike, just to free your mind. You hear a car coming and steer to the side. You could do it in your sleep. It was oddly close. The roaring of the engine was loud in your ears.

“Slow down slut!” a voice yells and laughs, which makes you wobble and fall to the side and roll onto someone’s grass. You brush yourself off, glaring at the car that’s speeding off. Embry saw this and stops and gets out.

“Oh my gosh! Are you alright?” he says with a worried expression.

“Yes, Im fine.” you say and try to get back on your bike but Embry gently touches your arm. You flinch a bit. This makes Embry feel nervous, “Sorry…I wanted to ask if maybe.. I can treat you to lunch or dinner?” he suggests.

You think for a moment.

You didn’t expect to agree. You sit silently in a booth with Embry across from you. You eyed him and the menu. By the time the food came, it seemed like the lid was lifted.

“It honestly sucks that nobody knows us but they have so much to say about us.” Embry vents to you. You nod and take a sip of your drink. “I usually just ignore it. I’m so happy to actually be seen.” you tell him sincerely.

He did see you clearly. Judgement couldn’t be passed. You could be yourself around him. He appreciated you so much. You saw him the way others didn’t make an effort to do.

Embry pulls back from a passionate smooch. Your face was flushed, you were covered under the covers, close to him. Your naked chest was pressed against him. Embry was happy you were satisfied. He was scared to hurt you, knowing you weren’t experienced.

You kept fidgeting and fighting with your mind. A warm hand wraps around your own and you look to the person that you love.

“No one is going to hurt you. I’m right here.” he promises.

Sam finally allowed you to come over. He was only concerned about what his pack brothers were talking about. Embry guided you in and meeting Sam wasn’t bad. Sam introduced you to the other imprinted mates. They didn’t make an effort to be warm. You swallow due to nervousness.

You sit as the other imprints mingled and pretend as if you didn’t exist. Embry came in to check in on you and sat with you. You put up your best front. Embry wasn’t stupid.

Embry spots a plate of cookies and tells you to take one. You reach and Emily swipes the plate and holds it. You look up in confusion.

“I thought they were for everybody?” Embry asks.

“Yeah…but..” Emily goes on to say and you put your head down. You try to move to stand but Embry keeps you at bay. He tells you to stay there and gets up and gathers everybody in the same space.

“You all owe Y/N an apology.” he announced. Looks of screwed faces were collectively displayed.

“For what?” and laughs circled the area.

“Spreading rumors. You all were so wrong and I can’t believe you fed into unnecessary rumors. Worrying about someone else’s sex life when you don’t know anything about it, and I mean anything, is just crazy. Everyone already calls us crazy shit but it doesn’t mean that it’s true.” Embry says, letting his frustrations out.

They all look at you. You reminded them of allowing their nasty spirits show. You got apologies. The record was straight. Something valuable was learned in the end.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

A/N: The Coney Island episode did something to me. Like it brings me so much joy! But I can't help but wonder how it's be if Peter was a little jealous of Harry. Peter is so hopelessly in love and is spiraling.

Warnings: mentions of obsession, stalking, possessiveness..

Requests: Open

Masterlist

-----------

You're a close friend of Peter and he has this super huge crush on you...maybe he doesn't even realize it. I personally like to think you are both spiders and that's where his obsession started. Your bond is just extremely strong and tight so he just passes off the intense feelings as something to do with the whole "being bit" thing.

He's always been a bit over protective and maybe a bit over bearing but you know that Peter just cares a lot.

Anyways, Peter instantly regrets inviting you out with Harry. Like he almost forgot just how charming this man is and he's panicked. He doesn't understand why tho. Like there's room for you all to be friends, why does this bother him so much.

At first his jealousy isn't noticeable. He seems relatively normal, you are all playing games and having fun. Of course, Peter makes it a point to sit next to you and be your partner. Maybe he's a bit more clingy than normal but it's nothing worth noting.

He is definitely trying to win you everything you lay your eyes on. I mean, he's super strong so it's insanely easy for him. He's taking so much pride in this until Harry starts showing him up. That whole muscle thing where Harry breaks it...geez. Somehow Peter is back to being that same 15 year old boy standing in his cooler friend's shadow.

It isn't until he steps away to get a snack, when he comes back to you and Harry doing the soulmate quizer thing where it gets bad for him... Seeing you guys be declared as the perfect couple really peeved him. Yeah. Those things are stupid and rather inaccurate but...damn just the thought alone really bugged him.

Peter is still in denial tho. He is chalking his feelings up to his best friend taking away his other best friend and not maybe that he's utterly insane for you. He's far too sweet to be a dick so he's passive aggressive.

Peter is actively standing in the middle of you two like.. he's not having it!

Oh my gosh the way his face dropped when you guys started bonding over your favorite ride. The speed demon roller coaster. Peter did try budding in the convo and said it was his fave too but was met with "umm I thought the ferris wheel was.." poor baby. He wasn't able to prevent you guys sitting next to each other on the ride. He's sitting behind ya'll and watching you hold onto Harry while the ride went down was blood boiling...

You offer to go on the ferris wheel to try and sweeten his mood with something he'd enjoy. All that ends with Peter blocking out the endless banter from Harry while he stares you down. Like why did you choose to sit next to him instead? It was hard watching you guys in such a romantic scenery. You looked so perfect in the night sky, ferris wheels are the perfect place to get cozy and share some loving kisses...It didn't look right with Harry being the one to share that space with you..it should be hi-

There's a part of Peter who feels deeply insecure and scared that you're choosing Harry over him. Everyone else used too, and it's highschool all over again...

Peter would definitely cut the night short after that. He's grabbing your arm and pulling you away from Harry.

"well, Bud. This was...great to say the least...but we should really get going. Night."

Harry doesn't even get a change to protest before he's walking out while dragging you along with him. You're so confused because what was that? Why was he seemingly so angry when he desperately wanted you to meet Harry all week.

Peter doesn't even know. He just doesn't like you being so close to someone who isn't him. After becoming friends, you're practically each other's only contact and he hates the idea of Harry becoming one.

"Pete, can you chill out..? What's going on with you? I didn't wanna leave."

"Well I did."

You questioned him further, begging him to stop and tell you what is up until he broke.

"I just dont-..... Whatever it was between you and him..I don't like it. I don't care if it was just "friendly". It. cannot. ever. happen."

"...but why....?"

Peter walks you home, it's silent on his end. He doesn't elaborate...or ever bring up the subject matter again. You can continue to press him but he'll either change the subject or leave. He's confused, jealous and even a little embarrassed. But from then on he's a lot more on edge over you. You notice him looking over at your phone when you're texting...questioning who you are interacting with...even you can sense his shadow over head as he follows you around town ...

He slowly realizes he's completely smitten over you, that this is all because of a fat crush. yet, he can't seem to control his spiral into his obsession with you.

[eroselless]

─────────────── sommer house // 2

series summary: After starting a new job at a prestigious museum in London, you form a close friendship with Helaena Targaryen. You're surprised when she invites you to stay at her family's estate for the summer holidays. [2.7k]

[aegon targaryen x reader, modern!HOTD AU ]

masterlist | previously

warnings: none, i think!

note: i'm so sorry it took me a little bit to get this out. i've been prepping for a big trip coming up soon, my head has been a little everywhere recently. anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

The rain that had accompanied you on the way out of London had ceased by the time you arrived at the Targaryen estate. The sun was dipping under the horizon, painting the sky in a soft orange and pink hue. The windows are still streaked with rain as you push off the plush seat and step out of the car. You stretch your arms above your head, loosening the muscles tightened by the long drive. 

Taking a deep breath, your eyes scan the scenery before you. The stone walls of the house seem to grow from the landscape, it’s garbled roof echoing a serene, timeless elegance. Tall trees and lush greenery frame the manor, flowers blooming in vibrant bursts along the pathway to the house. The silence is tranquil, punctuated only by the occasional wail of a passing bird. 

With your bags taken by a man who introduced himself as Criston, you begin to follow Helaena up the gravel path. Her steps fall softly as she leads the way. The look in her face is soft and gentle, hiding much behind her eyes. The more you look at the manor, the more it resembles an enlarged and elevated cottage or even a mix between a cottage and a castle, if such a thing existed—homey, alluring, and comfortable. 

You enter the home, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and old books, a familiar scent you learned to love during your time at the museum. You continue to follow Helaena through the foyer and into the living room, your footsteps muffled by thick rugs lined with intricate patterns. The room is open, the dimming sunlight streaming through a set of two large windows. A grand piano sits in a corner, scraps of paper tucked away in a book on the windowsill next to it. A large collection of books fill the shelves spanning an entire wall. Swords, small statues and animal skeletons are scattered around the room and hanging on the walls. There’s even a collection of insects pinned in frames, butterflies of all colors and sizes. 

The room is empty save for a silhouette sitting at one of the windows. It overlooks the vast ground of the estate, eyes watching two figures as they lounge outside by a small lake just beyond and below the window. 

“Mum,” Helaena calls out, wrapping her knuckles against the doorframe where the two of you have stopped. The woman takes her eyes away from the window, taking in a sharp breath before turning to you, a wide smile on her face. 

“Hel,” she calls her, pulling her daughter into her arms, hands caressing Helaena’s hair. Helaena hesitates momentarily before wrapping her arms around her mother. As you watch them, you notice how different they are from each other. If you hadn’t been told before, you would've never known they were mother and daughter. Helaena wore a cerulean sweater with gray trousers, her blonde hair cropped just above her shoulders. Alicent, on the other hand, wore a deep green blouse with brown trousers, her hair pulled away from her face but cascading in long tresses down her back.

Helaena pulls away from her mother, gesturing toward you. “Mum, this is Y/N,”

Alicent meets your eyes, introducing herself. Before you can reach out a hand for a shake, she pulls you into a hug just as she had her own daughter.

She pulls back, hands gently gripping your biceps. “It’s lovely to finally meet you. Helaena’s told me so much about you,” she says, her voice filled with genuine warmth. “Welcome to our humble home.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Targaryen,” you say, smiling.

“Please, call me Alicent. I insist.” Her smile broadens. “Come, let me show you to your room,” she says, guiding you through the elegantly decorated hallways. 

The faces in each portrait seem to follow you as you pass, their eyes windows into the past lives that once filled these halls. It sends a soft chill up your spine. But you can’t help but marvel at the grandeur around you – it’s as if you’ve stepped onto a movie set, a dream.

Alicent stops in front of a door and pushes it open. The room is immense, its pale blue walls bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun streaming through a large window. “This will be your room,” she gestures. “Helaena’s old room is just next door. There’s a bathroom that connects the two, but you’ll have plenty of space.”

You step into the room, immediately taken by its charm. The plush bed is adorned with soft pillows, the rugs underfoot are invitingly soft, and tasteful art hangs on the walls, adding a touch of elegance.

“This is beautiful,” you say, spotting your suitcases left at the foot of the bed. “Thank you so much, Alicent.”

Wandering into the bathroom, you’re greeted by a large bathtub that sits in front of an even larger window. On one side of the room are a pair of sinks; on the other, a spacious shower. Setting your things down at one sink, you peer out the window, the soft light peeking in as the sun continues to dip further down the sky. It casts shadows over the grounds. You can see the back of the estate, the sprawling gardens, and the lake.

“Make yourself at home. If you need anything, just let me know,” Alicent says. She bids you goodbye and withdraws from the room, reminding you that dinner will be in about an hour.

Leaving you alone, you sink into the lavish plush armchair, feeling completely at home. Your eyes peer out the window, every time finding something new to look at. In the distance, you can see stables and what looks like an old church with people pouring out. There’s a treeline just beyond the property that looks like it goes on for miles. Getting lost trying to find the end of the forest, your eyes begin to feel heavy and you find yourself drifting off. 

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It's not until a while later you hear your name called softly from the doorway. Shifting out of your relaxed stupor, you rub the sleep out of your eyes and spot your blonde haired friend peeking at you from the doorway, a gentle smile on her lips. She raises her eyebrows at you and you shove her shoulder with yours before following her down the grand staircase. As you descend, the scent of roasted vegetables and freshly baked bread wafts through the air, making your stomach tinge in anticipation.

The dining room is abuzz with activity as the Targaryen family gathers. The two men you saw outside earlier, Helaena’s brothers, stand at the entrance of the dining room, conversing quietly. Aemond and Daeron stand taller than you, both offering you polite smiles. There's a hint of reserve in their eyes, making the nerves in your veins accelerate a little more. 

You’re surprised at how similar yet so different they are from each other. Both share a sharp chin and lanky limbs long and lean. Their clothes contrast each other in style but compliment their individual characteristics. Their hair is a pale blonde like Helaena’s – Aemond’s long locks flowing down his back, while Daeron’s is cropped short above his ears.

“Welcome,” Aemond says, his voice smooth and measured. He extends a hand, and you shake it, noting the firm yet gentle grip.

“Good to see you,” Daeron adds, his smile a touch warmer than his brother’s. “We’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

“Thank you. It’s lovely to meet you both,” you reply, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement.

Helaena guides you to your seat at the long, polished dining table. The table is set with gleaming silverware and adorned with an array of delicious dishes—roast meats, steamed vegetables, and freshly baked bread. The space is elegant and inviting, with a long, polished oak table set with gleaming silverware and sparkling crystal glasses. Soft, golden light filters through antique chandeliers, casting a warm glow over the room. The rich scent of roasted meats and fresh herbs fills the air, mingling with the subtle aroma of the flowers that adorn the table. Your eyes scan over the feast and the new faces, taking in the grandeur of the setting.

You watch as Helaena’s father, Viserys, limps his way into the room, clinging onto Alicent’s arm with one hand while the other pushes on a cane. There’s a thin layer of hair on his head and the side of his face is riddled with scars. His face lights up with a warm smile when he meets your eyes, radiating a quiet strength and dignity. Alicent takes her place next to him, a soft smile adorning her lips. 

You observe the family as they take their seats and begin scooping servings of food onto their plates. The initial nervousness fades as you find yourself relaxing into your seat. You're passed a large plate of potatoes, Helaena motioning for you to help yourself.

Viserys is seated to Alicent’s left, his demeanor kind and relaxed. He looks up with a gentle smile. “So you’re the friend Helaena has spoken so highly of. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” you say, returning his smile with genuine warmth. He continues by inquiring about your past, how you came to be in London, what you thought of the weather compared to back home. It made the butterflies return to your stomach as you answered each of his questions but by the time the second course was being served, you felt comfortable in your seat surrounded by the new faces. You can even see Aemond and Daeron’s faces soften towards you, even popping in a question or two. 

“She’s quite the asset,” Alicent remarks with a knowing glance toward Helaena. “I’m sure she’s been a wonderful companion to you.”

Helaena rolls her eyes playfully. “You’re making it sound like I’m her personal tour guide.”

“You’ve certainly taken on that role,” Viserys adds with a chuckle. “And what about your plans for the future? Helaena tells me you’re quite ambitious.”

You nod, feeling a slight flush of pride. “I hope to continue working in the field and eventually contribute to research and education. The experiences I’ve had so far have been incredible.”

The warm hum of conversation continues to fill the room as the Targaryen family settles into their seats. The clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of voices create a comfortable backdrop to the meal.

Helaena leans closer, her voice a soft murmur. “So, what do you think of the estate so far?”

“It’s even more beautiful than I imagined,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “Everything here has such character.”

Alicent, seated across from you, chuckles softly. “I’m so glad you think so. I’ve always felt that our home has a bit of magic to it. It’s like stepping into a different time, don’t you think?”

You nod, taking a sip of wine that has been poured for you. “Absolutely. There’s something so charming about the way everything is preserved.”

The conversation continues to settle into a comfortable rhythm, but the door creaks open and a figure steps in. The room momentarily goes quiet, all eyes drifting to him. He stands silently in the doorway as he meets the gazes of his family. Alicent rises from her seat at the head of the table, her expression a mixture of relief and exasperation. 

“Aegon,” she says, her voice tense with unspoken reproach. She reaches for his arm but hesitates as her fingers brush his damp sleeve. With a resigned sigh, he shrugs off his coat, letting it fall in a sodden heap on the floor before it's picked up by a man you swear you’ve seen two of this evening. The muffled thud of the fabric is a silent testament of Aegon’s defiance in the face of her disapproval. He meets Alicent's gaze, and from your spot on the other side of the room, you can see the disappointment lurking beneath the surface of her composed facade. They have much to speak about, but not here, not now.

“Aegon,” Viserys says, his tone a mix of amusement and warmth. It tears him away from the intense stare of his mother. “You’ve finally graced us with your presence. We were just beginning to think you’d forsaken us for the allure of London nightlife.”

Aegon’s gaze sweeps across the room, settling briefly on you. He offers a friendly, albeit slightly reserved, smile. “Sorry for the delay. Work ran late, and I got caught up in a few things.”

He is much different to his brothers. Though he shares the same platinum hair, his appearance is much more disheveled. His hair is tousled atop his head, covered partially by a dark beanie. The beard that is beginning to adorn his cheeks is darker than the hair on his head and there’s a light scent of cigarettes that wafts off of him as he walks. He’s dressed in a loose gray henley under a plaid shirt and dark trousers. 

He takes his seat at the table, his movements casual yet deliberate. As he starts to serve himself, the conversation resumes, though now there’s a subtle undercurrent of anticipation. Everyone’s smiles are warm but not as relaxed as they were before. A different energy seems to run through the Targaryens.

Helaena leans closer to you, her voice barely above a whisper. “Aegon’s always running around with work and other commitments. He’s a bit of a mystery sometimes.”

You nod, spooning mashed potatoes into your mouth, glancing at Aegon as he engages in conversation with his family. There’s an air to him that you can’t quite put a finger on. A look in his eyes you recognized from Helaena, a distance in his eyes, a soft ache that pools in his violet eyes.

Alicent tries to bridge the gap in the silence that is beginning to lull over the table and calls out from her spot on the other side. “Aegon, tell us about your latest project. You’ve been working on it quite extensively.”

Aegon leans back, a forced smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s just another one of those things that keeps me busy. Nothing too thrilling.” His reply is curt and short. It’s obvious he doesn’t feel like talking about work, preferring to stick to any other topic. 

The dinner continues with lively conversation, but you notice Aegon casting occasional, subtle glances in your direction. His interest is understated, almost imperceptible, but it lingers. Despite not exchanging a word with him throughout the meal, you find yourself shrinking a bit each time his gaze meets yours.

The conversation gradually wanes, and a moment of silence falls over the room, broken only by Viserys’s abrupt cough. Alicent rises from her seat, signaling to a pair of live-in nurses who enter the room. She whispers something to one of them before turning back to the gathering. Nervousness seems to settle over her as she clasps her hands in front of her, wringing them anxiously.

"Thank you all for joining us this evening," Alicent says, her voice betraying a hint of unease. "We should all get some rest. The big party is just a few weeks away and we have much to plan."

As everyone begins to filter out, moving quietly like shadows in the night, you follow Helaena to your room. Looking back, you catch a glimpse of Aegon walking further down the hallway. His gait is slow and detached, his shoulders slightly slumped, before he turns a corner and fades into the darkness.

"Goodnight," Helaena says with a sleepy smile, lingering at her doorway. "Sleep well. Tomorrow promises to be eventful."

"Goodnight, Helaena," you reply, returning her smile. "Thank you again for having me."

"Of course. Sweet dreams," Helaena says warmly before closing her door behind her.

tags: @mrs-starkgaryen @gloryekaterina

[ssahotchnerr]

Hii!! Can you do hotch x reader where hotch is all grumpy and reader is the complete opposite but he is all soft and cute towards the reader

perspectives

wc; 1.2k cw; bau!reader, angst, hurt to comfort, no established relationship but <3

aaron had never been a fan of car rides.

long car rides, to be exact. heading to the bau was never an issue, same with running around town, errands, taking jack to soccer. but a journey more than an hour? nearly unacceptable.

the luxury of traveling via the jet throughout the years definitely didn't help. and while numerous rides exceeded well over that hour time frame, at least that didn't compare to a car ride's length to the destination. that ideology was more manageable, easier to accept. and besides, he wasn't the one who was flying the plane.

so whenever it was necessary to make the trek to the state prison for interviews, about two hours away from quantico, it was displeasing. it was irritating. but it had to be done and complaining wasn't in his vocabulary.

the changing point, however, was you.

the first time you accompanied him, you had newly been added to the unit- still wide-eyed with innocence, not subjected to the horrors just yet, nervous yet excited jitters making you squirm in your seat.

he envied you in that aspect- being able to see the world in a lighter view. so maybe when you asked if you could turn on the radio, he didn't hesitate to comply.

and upon your second ride together, he flicked the radio on as soon as the engine started.

perhaps that gave you the confidence you were waiting for - finding an open, more inviting atmosphere to speak your mind.

"you know, you frown more in the car."

your words surprised him, "what?"

"it's true." you were relaxed in your seat, looking out the window and admiring the scenery passing by. "sometimes i wonder if you can even see past the windshield with how much your eyebrows are drawn over your eyes."

his lips fell into a line, but amusement bubbled within his chest. "i can see perfectly fine."

you laughed, and in that moment, aaron realized just how badly he needed that to grace his ears. "i would hope so. we haven't crashed yet."

aaron chuckled softly, his eyes returning to the road ahead.

"so, car rides huh?" not only was your wit quick, but so was your ability to read him like a book.

he huffed out a breath through his nose. "hate 'em."

"haven't you heard, it's not about the destination, but the journey?"

"our journey leads us to a high security establishment containing the worst of the worst." aaron deadpanned.

"sure." you shrugged, turning back towards the window. "but maybe it's all about perspective."

and maybe you were right.

as time moved forward, you became his frequent passenger. when the opportunity arose to take a drive, anywhere in that matter, you were always the first to volunteer.

it became routine- aaron tuning the radio to your favorite station upon the engine's ignition. his once silent rides were now accompanied by music, small talk followed and ultimately turned into full blown conversations. work related or not.

and suddenly aaron preferred the car to the jet, enjoying your presence and lightness you suddenly indulged him in. you were rather talented in elaborating, your intuition seemingly limitless. the conversations you fabricated were both amusing and constructive, and the two of you could partake in such for hours. you were easy to talk to, kind and open, not the one to be judgmental. and throughout, you looked at him in a way that made him feel so vulnerable it was frightening, but extremely safe. he could open up about the depths of his mind and you would still look at him the same way. in addition, he couldn't remember the last time he actually had the urge to open up. willingly.

sure, he could sit with you on the jet (and notably, he did) and get the same exchange, but he preferred the peace and stillness of just the two of you. you, him, and the open road.

and maybe more importantly, you made him feel like himself again.

-

while it was bound to happen, aaron dreaded when the job would take it's toll on you.

aaron often admired your level-headedness, your ability to remain objective and to not dwell on the darkness as many agents do; the all consuming abyss. your bubbly personality coincided with seeing the good in all things, despite all circumstances.

no wonder you got along so well with garcia.

you maintained your sense of strength, for so long, aaron feared how hard it would hit you; the realization darkness would never cease it's attempts to triumph light. and that same darkness would attempt to overcome you, no matter how much light you offered.

manageable. if he couldn't protect you from the inevitable (although, he would if he could - in less than a heartbeat), he could at least make it manageable.

slowly and surely, your inner sparkle was dimming. and he wouldn't dare allow your light to diminish.

an interview at the virginia reformatory arose, and something about this unsub had riled you up to the extreme- aaron's never seen so much fiery behind your eyes. but despite your hatred, you had insisted on going- your vigor all too similar to one he knew well.

"his guy," you seethed, buckling your seatbelt rather forcefully. "is sick. what he's done-"

"i know."

"they didn't deserve it hotch." aaron nearly flinched at the use of his name, he's gotten used to hearing aaron from you. "why do we have to drive all this way, to get stupid answers from a stupid, vile ass clown who doesn't want to speak to us to begin with? we're going to get nothing out of it. nothing."

"i see you've been hanging around dave too much." aaron commented, hoping to lighten the mood.

but your attitude didn't falter, not like it would've previously. "why do we have to go? driving all the way out there is pointless."

aaron shrugged, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. "i don't mind the drive."

you snorted a laugh, your comment flying out of your mouth. "since when?"

"since someone," aaron's eyes found yours. "changed my perspective."

"yeah, well," you slouched in your seat, mumbling under your breath. "what do i know."

"a lot more than you give yourself credit for." his answer was simple, true.

"c'mon."

"i'm serious. yeah, this sucks. it's going to be an unpleasant afternoon. but..." he paused for emphasis, bringing a sense of playfulness. "the journey."

another scoff came from you. "and what could possibly come from that."

"you never know." before aaron could overthink himself out of it, his hand reached over the center console, finding yours naturally- as if it were it's rightful place to be. where it belonged.

your hand was just as soft as he expected, somehow more, even. he gave it a squeeze, and it immediately brought a bit of light back into you. your shoulders dropped, warmth returned to your face, looking at him in a sense of awe, almost.

unknowingly to each other, both of you felt it. where aaron's touch met yours, every part of him was aflame.

"the journey." he repeated. "that's the whole point, isn't it? you never know what, or who, will be the outcome."

[starhvney]

𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: garroth, laurance, travis, dante, zane, katelyn, & nana

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: what i think they'd be like on a roadtrip!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, slice of life

𝐂𝐖: none!

𝐀/𝐍: i miss going on roadtrips i haven't been on one in so long

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇

☆ calls shotgun immediately and insists it’s his spot for the rest of the trip (oldest sibling syndrome)

☆ always buys something at every rest stop, whether it’s an icee, chips, or some stupid trinket

☆ bought a key chain one time that flashed the words “bad boy” on it because he thought it was so funny. he was devastated when it stopped working one day

☆ likes being the gps guy because sometimes he’ll find a cool place to stop and check out on the way (to make the most of the trip, of course)

☆ talks about town lore when you pass through somewhere interesting

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

☆ he has the best road trip playlist and made sure to plan out how long it was depending on how far you’re traveling

☆ honestly he’s probably the one driving for most of the trip if not all of it, he finds driving relaxing and also doesn’t trust other people to drive safely

☆ likes to play fun talking games like never have i ever or would you rather, or just talking about life

☆ will play the license plate game or i spy to stay alert

☆ if he’s not talking he’s really enjoying the playlist

☆ if the road trip is super long he’ll agree to switch out of driving for a bit to take a nap

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒

☆ is really invested in the license plate game

☆ he’s always cracking jokes and is definitely the type of guy to look in other people’s windows on the road and guess their life story

☆ gets invested when a car sticks with yours for a long time and gets dramatic when they finally split away

☆ plays multiplayer games on his phone with whoever wants to play or sends memes to the group chat (you guys are literally in the same car)

☆ will suddenly start discussing conspiracy theories or will tell ghost stories about the towns you pass through

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄 

☆ he’s either talking the whole time or passed tf out no in between

☆ says “i could go for some fast fast food right now” literally anytime you guys pass a fast food restaurant

☆ also cracks jokes and will add on to travis’s guesses on the lives of oblivious travelers

☆ makes really exaggerated and out of place guesses because he thinks it’s funny

☆ it’ll be a grandma driving in her old chrysler and he goes “how much you wanna bet she’s got a pound of weed in her trunk”

☆ like man what the hell are you talking about

𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐄

☆ irritated if people are talking too much (dante and travis)

☆ puts on noise canceling headphones and only tunes back in if food or a rest stop is involved (he’s busy listening to my little pony infection au lore/j)

☆ has a pillow, blanket, and hoodie on at all times for maximum comfort

☆ another sleeper. surprisingly doesn’t mind if you use him as a pillow or ask to share his blanket, he’s really comfy with all those layers on

☆ will lightly shove you away if you start moving too much, though

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐍

☆ pretty chill the whole time as usual

☆ sits in the very back and mostly will watch the scenery

☆ she brings a book or watches a movie, and doesn’t mind sharing her headphones with you to watch it together 

☆ unless you’re traveling in a car with tv screens installed, then she has a small travel case with a ton of burned cds (if you know you know) and everyone can join in

☆ if she gets tired of socializing with everyone she puts in some earbuds and takes a nap

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀

☆ packs a whole bag of snacks and homemade sweets for everyone

☆ checks pretty often if anyone wants to take a break at a rest stop and stretch their legs (she’s pretty jittery and doesn’t want to be the only one constantly asking to stop the car)

☆ also participates in the license plate game, but also likes to play the slug bug and yellow car game

☆ made the mistake of slug bugging katelyn and got punched back in the arm

☆ gets really addicted to cute cat games on her phone and accidentally spends a bunch of money on passes

☆ she brings some sort of craft or sketchbook for the trip. you notice she’s been quiet for a while before looking over and seeing she’s already crocheted half of a scarf and a hat

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Behind Closed Doors (mafia!bruce wayne)

Summary: unbeknownst to you, you become friends with the city's famous mobster.

WC: 1,3K

Warnings: fluff,angst, bruce is a mafia leader AU

Read on Ao3!

Clint Barton Version Here!

--

The dim lights of the bar flickered slightly as the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses surrounded you. The city was alive, but you were still an outsider—new in town, not yet used to the rhythm of things. You had hoped for a quiet night, a drink to wind down from the overwhelming chaos of moving to a new city.

That’s when you first saw him.

A man in a tailored suit, dark hair combed back effortlessly. His presence was magnetic, like something about him demanded attention without trying. He wasn’t loud or boisterous, but his calm demeanor stood out in the crowd. And when his dark eyes landed on yours from across the room, you felt the pull—almost as if he had already decided you were worth his time.

He stood and approached you with a smooth stride, a slight, charming smile playing on his lips. “Mind if I join you?”

You blinked, caught off guard, but something in his gaze made you hesitate just long enough to give a nod. "Sure."

He slid into the seat next to you, the bartender already setting down a drink in front of him as if he were a regular. "Bruce Wayne," he said, offering a hand. His voice was smooth, controlled, like he was used to getting what he wanted.

"Y/N" you replied, shaking his hand. The touch was firm, but you noticed the way his hand lingered a little longer than necessary, almost as if he was savoring the moment. “I’m new in town.”

“I gathered that. Not many people in here don’t know how to blend in.” His smile turned a little teasing. “What brings you to Gotham?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off as casual. “Just needed a change of scenery, I guess. The usual story. New job, new city, new start.”

“New start, huh?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. "I can relate."

There was something cryptic in his words, and for a moment, the conversation faltered as you tried to read him. But then, he shifted the focus back to you, asking about your new life in Gotham and how you were adjusting. His charm was effortless, his attention focused entirely on you, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself laughing and talking about everything from mundane details about your job to the oddities of living in a city like Gotham.

By the end of the night, you were exchanging numbers, your curiosity piqued by his mysterious air, but also by how strangely comfortable you felt around him. Something told you there was more to Bruce Wayne than met the eye, but for now, you were content to just go along with it.

The next few weeks passed in a blur of coffee dates and casual conversations. Every time you met, it felt like you were peeling back another layer of him, but it was slow, almost too slow. Bruce always seemed interested in you—truly interested—but there was a distance in his eyes, a guardedness that made it impossible to get too close.

And then there were the disappearances.

You’d be sitting at a café, enjoying a warm drink, and Bruce would be there, his attention on you, his voice a calm presence in the noise of the world. But then, just as the conversation would begin to dip into something deeper, his phone would ring. His expression would change in an instant—controlled but sharp—and he’d apologize, excusing himself to take the call in a more private area.

You didn’t think much of it at first. Work. That was all he ever said. But the more times it happened, the more it felt like an excuse. And then you started to wonder: was he really that busy? Or was there something else going on?

One evening, after yet another brief and unexplained disappearance, you found yourself sitting alone at a table, swirling the coffee in your mug absentmindedly, thoughts racing. A small part of you had been entertained by his mystery, but now, it was starting to bother you. He’d been so elusive, almost like he was keeping something from you. And when he disappeared on the phone, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was another woman involved. Maybe that was why he was always so distant when you weren’t with him. Maybe the phone calls were just him checking in with his girlfriend.

You tried to push the thoughts aside, but they clung to you, nagging at the back of your mind.

It wasn’t until a few days later that your suspicions were confirmed—but not in the way you expected.

You were walking through the city, lost in your thoughts when you spotted Bruce across the street, standing outside a sleek black car. You froze. He was talking to someone—no, giving orders. The man he was speaking to nodded respectfully before walking away, and you could see Bruce’s posture shift just slightly, a certain authority in his stance.

That was when you saw it.

The man had passed by a neon sign on the corner—an inconspicuous one, but you caught a glimpse of the symbol on his jacket. A logo you recognized. One that wasn’t just associated with business deals or high society parties, but something far darker.

You weren’t sure what exactly you were seeing, but you knew one thing: this wasn’t just a businessman you’d been having coffee with. Bruce Wayne wasn’t just charming and mysterious—he was dangerous.

A mob boss. It made sense now, all the late-night calls, the secretive exits, the way people in Gotham seemed to give him a certain level of respect.

But before you could process the full weight of the realization, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned quickly, only to find Bruce standing right behind you, his face unreadable.

“I thought I might find you here,” he said smoothly, his tone even and calm, though there was an edge to it now. “You’ve been thinking about me.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to swallow the shock creeping up your throat. “I... I didn’t expect this.”

He studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “I guess I should’ve told you sooner.”

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, unable to stop the words from spilling out. “Were you hiding something from me, Bruce? Or... was there someone else?”

A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “There’s no one else, Y/N. But there are things about me... things I can’t share easily.” He stepped closer, his voice low, almost like a warning. “I didn’t want you to get mixed up in it.”

Your stomach twisted with a mix of confusion and anger. “Mixed up in what? What are you really doing, Bruce?”

He hesitated, but then, his hand moved to your cheek, his touch tender. “I’m doing what I have to do to protect this city. And anyone who gets close to me—who gets too close—becomes a part of that. You need to understand that.”

You looked up at him, a chill running through you. “So this—us—wasn’t real?”

Bruce’s gaze softened, a brief flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. “It was real. But my world is... complicated. I was hoping you wouldn’t find out this way. But I won’t lie to you, Y/N. This is my life. And if you want to stay in it, you need to accept what that means.”

Your heart raced as you tried to piece it all together—the man you thought you knew, the mystery, the lies. But no matter how much you wanted to run, something about him held you in place, anchored by the truth in his eyes.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you whispered, the weight of everything crashing down on you.

Bruce’s expression darkened, his thumb brushing over your cheek before he spoke again. “You’ll figure it out. But just know—no one ever walks away from me once they’ve seen the truth. And that includes you.”

[azen13]

The General's Garden - Chapter One: Spring

CW: Yandere Themes, Stalking

Description: You're just a simple gardener working on improving General Jing Yuan's little garden. Little do you know that the General thinks of you as so much more.

Pairing: Yandere!Jing Yuan x GN!Reader

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It is a mild spring morning when you first meet General Jing Yuan face to face.

You find him smiling between rows of hedges, posture relaxed and eyes glinting with a hint of curiosity. Months ago, when you had first been hired to help care for and improve the General’s private garden, you had only met one of Jing Yuan’s subordinates. They were quick to tell you that the General, despite his lazy attitude, was meticulous and observant. There wouldn’t be much room for error in tending to the gardens just outside of his home.

So, when you see the General practically appear out of thin air like a ghost, you can’t help but be a little surprised. No matter. Jing Yuan is quick to apologize for frightening you and reassures you that his visit is no bad omen. “I simply wish to enjoy a quiet morning amidst this beautiful scenery,” the man says, lifting a hand to gesture to lines of trellises and flowers. “You have done quite the commendable job taking care of this little garden,” he adds, the corners of his mouth upturned in what can only be described as the barest hints of a smirk; there is no malice in his expression, however. Only curiosity.

“Thank you, General,” you automatically begin, genuinely touched by the flattery.

Jing Yuan is quick to stop you, though, amusement lingering in his expression. “Please, call me Jing Yuan,” he says. “I’ll leave you to care for the flowers in peace,” he adds after a moment, turning away, and walking out of the garden, back in the house. 

A peace blankets the gardens as you prune back bushes with a pair of hedge shears, and think about the General. Lazy. Meticulous. Relaxed. Observant. Through it all, though, he seems…lonely. Your home is a small affair, a simple studio apartment with low rent. You can hardly imagine what it must be like to walk through silent hallways every morning, passing closed door after closed door, empty room after empty room. 

You brush the thought aside. You still have so many more shrubs and hedges to cut back, and after that in the far corner of the garden, the rose bushes need your attention. You recently planted them in the General’s garden several months ago, and this summer and fall would be their first time blooming. 

As you walk off to your next job, battling monstrously misshapen plants in need of some shaping with your pruning, the shadows shift. But unlike the slow, tranquil motions shadows normally move in Jing Yuan’s garden, this shadow moves fast and with an almost calculative nature.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Several days later, you see Jing Yuan again. This time though, he doesn’t appear out of thin air. Instead, you see him as you walk towards a small terrace walled in on three sides by trellises covered in an assortment of plants. Wisteria blankets the roof of the small patio, with ivy and clematis flowers winding themselves on the three walls. In the center of it all rests Jing Yuan, still smiling that small, gentle smile, sitting at a wooden table. In front of him is a single cup of tea, its subtle aroma spreading through the area.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Jing Yuan greets you, “I hope I am not intruding upon your duties.”

You shake your head and wipe your hands on your overalls, dirty from soil and mud and all sorts of other things. “Not at all, General. In fact-” Jing Yuan interrupts you politely. “Again, please call me Jing Yuan. There is no need for formalities with me.” Despite his kind expression and polite tone, there is something behind his words, the weight of a command dressed up to look like a request. After all, Jing Yuan is the General of the Xianzhou Luofu. His very words carry weight that rumble like earth like thunder and split the sky like lightning.

“Alright,” you sigh a little, feeling awkward about referring to Jing Yuan–the most powerful man on the Xianzhou Luofu and your employer–by his real name and not his official title, “I’ll do my best.” Jing Yuan, to your surprise, almost seems pleased, though his constant placid expression still remains set in stone. “I just wanted to say that I hope I’m not intruding upon you,” you explain, walking a few paces a way, and grabbing a spade, along with a pair of gloves. “Not at all,” Jing Yuan answers, the cadence in his words a little quicker, though it’s almost unnoticeable that you wonder if you’re hearing things. “In fact, I was hoping to invite you to take a break with me and come sit down with me,” he says, gesturing to the other chair with its own cup of tea in front of it.

Although you don’t enjoy not doing your duties, you don’t want to offend Jing Yuan by declining his offer, so you nod. “Alright, but only for a few minutes.” Jing Yuan smiles and nods, picking up his cup and taking a sip of tea. From the color and aroma, you mentally note what tea the General seems to be drinking: oolong. But when you sit down and pick your own cup up, you’re met with a surprise.

A cup of chamomile tea rests in your hands.

When you go to sip it, another surprise: it’s quite sweet, the way you take your tea.

The sweetness lingers on your tongue while unease lingers in your heart. From across the table, Jing Yuan’s eyes are perceptive, his eyes almost leonine. But their gaze is not wild. Instead, they are watching intently, waiting for your reaction. His trademark smile, as you’ve come to know it, rests upon his lips.

“I hope the tea is to your liking,” he says quietly, taking a sip of his own cup again, before finally setting the cup down. When you nod, your mind still racing both at breakneck speeds and moving in slow motion, a pleased look seems to cross his eyes. “I wish to know, what pushed you to be a gardener?” He asks.

The question snaps you out of your reverie. It’s a question that has been directed to you many times, by family and friends alike. Your response has not changed in decades, so you shrug and say, “I like plants.” There’s a moment of silence as Jing Yuan processes this, before a soft chuckle escapes his lips. 

“I suppose that’s as good of a reason as any,” he muses, his gaze far off. After a moment, it refocuses light concentrated light through a prism, the golden glow in his eyes seemingly brighter. You wonder briefly what things those untarnished pools of molten gold have seen, what murky shadows lie in their depths. But you know that you cannot even fathom to understand what this man has seen, nor what machinations make their movements in his mind, choosing decisions and actions. 

Silence returns with its chilling breath, sending goosebumps shivering across your skin. You have a bad feeling. A horrible feeling, really, but you cannot point it out amongst a crowd of reasons, you cannot provide any evidence for what caused it, and you didn’t sleep well last night, so do you really feel horrible? It’s just a bad feeling. Perhaps you should have gotten more sleep, or eaten a heartier breakfast.

Jing Yuan brings you back from your thoughts again, keeping your attention on him. “I was thinking,” he begins, “about giving you a raise. Your work is…” his voice trails off again, eyes boring into your skull, pounding on your head, as though he wishes to card through each of your neurons to understand what makes them fire. And you know he could do it. “Beautiful,” he decides.

You feel a pleasant surprise settle in your bones, shaking off the ominous feeling. “That’s very generous of you, thank you,” you murmur, sipping at your tea again. Sweetness courses down your throat. 

The rest of the conversation flows like a calm river, all easy small talk and quiet conversation. Jing Yuan asks you some questions, and you ask some of your own. The unease settles itself away into the shadows of your soul, waiting for a moment to strike again. After a while, Jing Yuan says he has to leave to go to the Seat of Divine Foresight for work, and you bid him well, returning to work.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

That night, you check your phone to find a massive sum of credits in your bank account. You have to pinch yourself to see if you’re dreaming. You’re not.

Outside of your window, almost unnoticeable, two golden eyes glint in the dim moonlight like stars. 

You catch more doves with seeds than stones, after all.

[eggroll-sama]

Touchstarved Love Interest on a Hike

You and the touchstarved gang go on a forest hike. What could possibly go wrong? (I know this is really OOC, realistically they wouldn’t go on a hike together because the drama is crazy, but hey, it’s fun to imagine)

AIS

Doesn’t say much, but is enjoying the quality time. He lets the others take the reins because he trusts them.

Looks good wearing a T-shirt and shorts and lots of passersby check him out. Leander is not pleased.

The most physically built out of the five and doesn’t break a sweat even on the steep areas.

Can probably carry all the backpacks and still be fine, but won’t offer unless you beg him what a dick. Oh you want me to carry some of your stuff? No. Why? I don’t want to. In the end he would carry them for you.

(More characters under the cut)

Very unprepared. He just wore casual clothes and hiking shoes. Asking Kuras every 10 minutes if he can get a sip of his water or use his sunscreen.

Shows that he cares about the others when he slows his pace to match the slowest person in the group. It’s Vere. He listens to his complaining.

Looking out for any signs of danger.

Won’t take any pictures on the hike. If you try to take a picture with him he’ll either smile wickedly or lick your face for a reaction.

He’d get hungry and eats a poisonous mushroom even after Mhin pointed out that it was poisonous. Shrugs and throws away the mushroom cuz there was no flavor.

When he reaches the destination, he’d be impressed by the view and peacefully sit while drinking some oolong tea. Vere stole it from a hiker and gave it to him. How kind of him.

KURAS

Kuras likes to wander and discover new places so he said yes. He wasn’t pleased there would be other members Vere joining them. He tries to hide his distaste and focuses on the trail.

Is taken in by the nature and how the sun casts light between the trees and making a beautiful scenery. When a cool breeze passes and his hair flutters, it almost looks like their a forest fairy.

He brought extra water because he knew there would be somebody that would forget.

If he noticed you’re tired, he’d suggest that they’d take a break. Also brought a First Aid Kit if there was an accident. He’s a doctor; it would be embarrassing if he didn’t bring one.

The most elegant hiker. It’s very peculiar seeing him hiking because it looks like he’s gliding. He doesn’t break a sweat and has an amused look on his face the entire time. What is he thinking?

Walks beside Mhin and listens to them talking about random biology facts. Is very interested in what they have to say and will even point out at herbs as they pass by them.

Ignores Vere who keeps making backhanded comments about him from behind. Will keep quiet about a ditch, root, or a spider up ahead. Smiles when he hears Vere scream behind him.

He’d probably come back again by himself or with one extra person, either Mhin or MC.

LEANDER

99% chance that this whole thing was his idea. He’s an active guy and likes to spend time with others. He’d probably done the hike a number of times before.

The one leading. He’s prepared and has all the basic necessities, even things you wouldn’t think of. He caters to your needs the most. If you ask if anyone has x y and z, he’d be the first to offer it. He wants to be relied on and show he’s a competent man!

Acts as the “trail leader” of the group. Has a map in hand.

He whistles when he isn’t talking.

Highly susceptible to bug bites.

Notices that the group is functioning in pairs, Mhin with Kuras and Vere with Ais. He’d feel like a third wheel and will talk to you the most. Will get mopey if you talk to somebody else. If you notice he’s been quiet, join him at the front and talk to him and he’d be overwhelmed with joy.

Puts on a lot of deodorant and the others try not to cringe at the smell. Mhin or Vere would point it out and he’d laugh, but he’s dying inside.

Gets competitive when a bunch of hikers giggle to themselves over Ais. Oh wow is it getting hot out here, let me just take off my shirt and show off my sculpted abs. Ais knows exactly what he’s doing and side-eyes him.

When he reaches the destination, he tries to makes a speech about how proud he is of everyone and yada yada, nobody is listening and doing their own thing. He’s distraught. At least the view is nice.

MHIN

Doesn’t like anyone there except for Kuras and MC (Leander is tolerable).

Gets fed up really quickly with Vere’s complaining and Leander’s nonsensical chatter.

The one covered up the most because they get easily sunburnt.

Brought a gallon full of ice cold water and would not share.

Surprisingly agile and has high endurance.

Super unlucky, would step on the weirdest sh*t on the hike.

Enjoys the wildlife around them. Points out at things they’ve read in books. Will get really deep into it if you reciprocate the interest.

Keeping track of the map because they don’t trust Leander. Has caught him going the wrong direction a few times.

Looking out for danger #2.

Munches on plain crackers when they get hungry and looks like a hamster. If you point it out you’ll get stabbed.

Once at the destination, they try to find a souvenir rock. If you ask them what they’re doing they’ll shoo you away. If you give them a nice rock you found, they’d carefully analyze it before thanking you with a small blush.

VERE

He is not happy to be here. And he will make it clear from the very start.

High chance that he said yes cuz Ais was going.

Can’t stand listening to Kuras and Mhin being nerds and Leander talking about the time he almost got married to a middle-aged nun. HUH?! HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THAT-

Complains and super snarky at the very beginning, but gradually starts to quieten down due to fatigue.

Stealing stuff from fellow hikers just for the heck of it.

The best dressed hiker. Many people are in awe how sexy he looks. And yes, he made one of his admirers buy it for him. He will wear it once and then throw it away.

Sweat gives him that natural glow :0

Vere WON’T forget about the sunscreen and bug spray. He won’t let a hike ruin his skin for the rest of the week.

Does not look out for danger, IS the danger.

Rare sight of Vere with a high ponytail. Ais grabs him by the pony tail when he wants his attention.

Once he reaches the site, he’s going to take a quick nap under a shade. You can join him, but be wary.