#tiny keith in leather

[childoftheriver]

Look how proud they are!

[enthusiasteditor]

They are more interested in getting the look exactly right, rather than being vain.

BBC: Did you work very closely with Michael and David?

Claire Anderson (Costume Designer): Yes. They were both involved in creating their looks. When you put something very distinctive on them, that helps them find the character. They are more interested in getting the look exactly right, rather than being vain. We had mood boards - light for good, dark for evil. Michael’s costume is ethereal. He wanted something timeless that wouldn’t look out of place now or in Victorian England. He found a way of contemporising his Victorian look. We were able to use aspects of his costume all the way through.

We gave him a tartan bowtie, but all tartans are owned, so we had to design our own specifically, incorporating golden thread and heavenly aspects. He also wears a Victorian waistcoat that is almost bald. We dyed things a lot to get the pale blue on his shirt that would give him serenity and warmth. He wears soft suede shoes and soft light cashmere trousers. It’s about balancing colours with his very white hair to give him the right look. He needs an ethereal aura, and all of the colour palette needs to emphasise his heavenly glow. He’s deliciously cherubic.

BBC: How did you go about creating David’s look?

Claire Anderson: It really started with his 1940s look. The tailoring is very crisp and aligned. It’s hard and sharp. Under the colour of every suit, we put red felt which was like the belly of a snake. Underneath that loucheness, David is slightly rock-starry and Keith Richards-esque. His black leather gloves have a tiny red line to emphasise his snake-like characteristics. We also found a 1980s jacket that had a quilted quality. We worked on it until it had a textured feel to it, like snakeskin. It’s all about semiotics.

Full interview here

[poledancingdinos]

Soundtrack of Debauchery - Part 2

Pairing: Young!Syverson X OFC (Jessie) X Mike (Hellraiser)

Word Count: 11 591 words

Warnings: SMUT, Alcohol, Drug Use, Oral Sex (M and F receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Anal Fingering, Sex Toys, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Threesome (F/M/M), Difficult Family Dynamics

Taglist: @raccoon-eyed-rebel @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper

A/N: I am so excited about this. I didn't think I would write something longer than the first part but I had a lot more to say about these three.

Story Masterlist

Masterlist

Mikey was practically vibrating. He hadn’t seen Jessie in a month because of finals and he was going a little insane. All he wanted was to enjoy his three weeks of Christmas vacation in the company of his favorite girl.

Sy had gone back to base as usual and neither Mike nor Jessie had seen him since July. If things worked out, however, he would make it to Georgia during the week after Christmas. Mike and his mother had also been invited to spend their vacation with his aunt and uncle.

Apparently his mother had mentioned to them that she suspected Mike had a girlfriend because they had extended the invitation to Jessie without even knowing if he was really seeing anyone. He hadn’t mentioned it to her yet but he was planning to. He just didn’t know how to ask Jessie to spend her reunion with Sy with the parents of the two men who were secretly dating her at the same time.

It would do Jessie some good to spend some alone time with Sy. She was worried that maybe the chemistry they’d felt at the festival had been purely physical and that things would be different once they’d spent some time together outside of the excitement of it all. Well, she was mostly worried Sy wouldn’t feel the same. She was clearly crushing hard on Mike’s older cousin.

Mike and Jessie had both kept in touch with Sy while he was away. He would never admit it but Mike missed having his cousin around. Sy was the one person who had always stuck by his side no matter how badly he fucked up.

Mike’s mother was flying straight to Georgia but he was going to drive to Jessie’s first. If she agreed to go with him, then his plan was for them to do the last part of the drive together. The three of them still lived in three different states but at least Baltimore was on the way to Georgia. Actually, if Mike and Jessie spent a bit of time alone first, they could pick up Sy at his base and the three of them could drive to Georgia together for New Years. He liked that idea.

Jessie lived with Mel, Keith, Brody and Tom, who he had seen at the festival, in a three bedroom apartment off campus. It was a tight fit when he was around for the weekend but it was better than a tiny dorm room with a narrow single bed.

When Jessie buzzed him into the building, he ran up the steps two at a time until he reached her floor. She was waiting for him in the doorway and it was the sweetest sight he had ever seen.

Jessie had apparently gotten dressed up in anticipation of his arrival. Maybe dressed up wasn’t the right word. She was only wearing a sexy little apron and a babydoll.

“The guys better not be home. I don’t have the ability to fight for your honor the way Sy would.”

Jessie giggled, letting Mike walk her backwards into the apartment before shutting the door.

“Just you and me,” her hands slid up his leather covered arms and shoulders before tangling in the soft strands of his shaggy hair. She pulled him down to meet her lips in a hungry greeting.

“I don’t mean to fuck up your meal, Sweetcheeks,” he whispered as he kissed down her jaw, “but with you looking like this, I don’t think I can wait.”

“I guess it’s a good thing that I just put supper in the oven on a ninety minute timer.”

“Fuck, you are brilliant. You truly do think of everything.”

Feeling confident that he wouldn’t incur Jessie’s wrath for ruining the meal she worked so hard on, Mike grabbed her ass and lifted Jessie up.

“You look so fucking sexy, Babe. Will you let me take a picture?”

Jessie didn’t need to look up to know that they were heading to her bedroom. She had been the one to request the no sex in the common areas rule, it would be hypocritical of her to ignore it at the first opportunity.

“You wanna photograph me like one of your French girls, Mikey?”

She was gently deposited on the mattress and she stretched out. Mike took a step back, pulling his cell from his pocket. 

“I want Sy to know what’s waiting for him if he makes it home during break.”

It was the first time Jessie was hearing about Sy possibly coming home but it immediately got her attention.

“I’ll give the details later, but Sy might get some leave time. You want to help motivate him to suck up to whoever is in charge?”

Jessie bit her lip, looking up at Mike through a hooded gaze. “What do I need to do?”

Mike unlocked his phone, pointing the camera at the gorgeous woman in front of him. “Just keep looking like sex on legs and you’ll have Sy going AWOL in no time.”

He snapped a few pictures, acting like he was putting into practice everything he’d learned in his elective photography class.

“Okay, now get on your knees and lose the apron.”

Jessie moved like a feline tracking its prey, crawling to the edge of the bed where she held herself up on her knees. Her eyes never left Mikey’s as she untied the apron behind her back then around her neck, letting it fall to the floor.

Mike groaned, filming without really looking at what he was doing. Why would he look at the screen when the real thing was only a few feet away?

“Look at you all wrapped up like the perfect Christmas gift. Anything you wanna say to Sy, Sweetcheeks?”

“I miss you,” she spoke into the lens, “I’d be really happy to see you but I’ll wait for you if you can’t come home yet.”

Mike gave Jessie a fond smile before quickly sending Sy a few of the pictures and the short video with strict instructions to look at everything once he was alone. He shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over the desk chair and putting his phone in the pocket.

“Just you and me now, Sweetcheeks,” he said, facing Jessie again. “Did you miss me too?”

“Fishing for a compliment, Mikey?”.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, bridging the gap between them. His hands traveled over her ass and thighs, holding her tight against him. She, in turn, wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I missed you, Mikey,” she said earnestly. “Want me to show you how much?”

Mikey nodded eagerly, letting Jessie pull away. While she worked on getting his pants off, Mike pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside. Jessie lowered herself down onto her stomach, licking her lips as she admired Mike’s cock which stood hard and proud against the light happy trail on his stomach.

She began by placing kisses up Mike’s inner thigh. She loved to tease him with how sensitive and responsive he was. He released a shuddering breath when she finally wrapped her luscious lips around the head of his dick.

Mike brushed the back of his fingers down Jessie’s cheek almost reverently as she worked her magic on his length. He couldn’t get over how gorgeous she was. Her pert ass was peeking out from below this sheer fabric of her babydoll, giving him visions of all the filthy things he wanted to do to it over their upcoming time together.

Jessie had one hand wrapped around his shaft, moving in time with her mouth but suddenly she snuck it between his legs and teased his balls.

“Oh fuck, do that again,” Mike gasped, tangling his fingers through Jessie’s hair.

Lost in the feeling, Mike’s hips moved almost of their own accord, thrusting forward and taking over the pace. He had just enough awareness left in him to drag her off his dick before he came down her throat.

“As much as I love that wicked mouth of Sweetcheeks, I’m not gonna make it much longer if you keep going.”

Jessie pushed her bottom lip out, making her displeasure known with an innocent little pout.

“Aw, don’t be like that, gorgeous, you’re gonna like what happens next.”

Mike leaned over, pulling open the bottom drawer of Jessie’s bedside table. He knew exactly what he was looking for and where to find it.

“Get on your knees. Face down, sweet cheeks up.”

The smirk came back to her lips and Jessie turned around, presenting her ass to Mikey with an enticing wiggle. She yelped when Mikey placed a sharp spank on her lace covered flesh. The fancy panties that she’d bought just for this occasion were soaked, leaving a dark patch on the powder pink fabric. Jessie could feel the wetness smearing on her inner thighs as Mikey slowly dragged them off.

“Which color do you want?”

“Red.”

Mike’s warm fingers trailed up the inside of her thigh until it reached her waiting core. He pushed two fingers inside and Jessie immediately clenched around them.

“Are you sure?” He was a little surprised by her answer and he needed to be certain that she wasn’t just saying what she thought he wanted to hear.

“Yes.”

Pulling his fingers from her wet heat, Mike slid up to Jessie’s puckered hole. With gentle pressure, he circled the tight ring of muscle, coating her in her juices. The bottle of lube clicked open and the coolness of the gel was added to the mix of sensations.

With his free hand, Mike worked open the felt pouch that contained the metal butt plug. It came in a set, each one having a different colored jewel on the end. He and Jessie had been using them for a few months. It had been her idea. She wanted to be able to take both Mike and Sy at the same time.

It would be their first time trying out the one with the red jewel. It was the biggest one of the set but at its thickest point was still not as wide as either man’s sizeable girth.

“Ready?”

Jessie folded her arms under her cheek, finding Mikey’s gaze over her shoulder.

“Ready,” she confirmed.

Mike started with one finger, easily slipping in with the abundant lube. He continued to work her open until he was able to add a second finger. Wanting to ensure the least amount of discomfort possible, Mike dipped the plug into her core, getting it nice and slick before adding more lube to the smooth metal.

“Breathe for me, Sweetcheeks.”

Jessie obeyed, taking a deep breath in and slowly letting it out. Mike withdrew his fingers, replacing them with the tapered tip of the plug. She clenched unintentionally from the contrast of the cool metal and she had to concentrate on relaxing her body.

With carefully controlled pressure, Mikey began to sink the plug into Jessie’s opening. She pressed back against it, helping him along.

When he began to feel more resistance, Mike paused, stroking a hand soothingly up and down Jessie’s back.

“You’re doing fucking amazing, keep breathing for me.”

He moved the plug out then back in again, slowly working more of it in with each thrust. Jessie’s whole body jerked a little when the last of the plug sank in but the sting faded quickly as the heavy plug settled within her.

“Sorry.” Mike quickly cleaned his fingers with a wet wipe. “Does it feel okay?” he asked, blanketing her body with his and placing gentle kisses across her shoulders and nape.

Jessie’s eyes fluttered open, her breath coming in pants. She tested the sensation by moving her hips against Mike’s pulsing manhood.

“Yes.” It felt more than okay though she didn’t quite know how to put it into words.

Mike wrapped an arm around her front, helping her upright. His hands were everywhere, roughly groping at her tits and thighs until Jessie snapped and pulled him down onto the bed.

She mounted him, rubbing her dripping folds over his shaft as she captured his lips in a feverish kiss. Her soft hand wrapped around the base and she was about to sink down on him when Mike’s panicked hands found her hips.

“Hold on, Sweetcheeks, still need to get a condom.”

Jessie’s eyes went wide, realizing what she’d been about to do.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

The box of condoms Mike had bought the last time he visited was already on the bed next to the lube. With the protection situation quickly rectified, Jessie finally impaled herself on Mike’s gorgeous cock.

“Jesus, I can feel the plug rubbing against me from inside.”

It was a good thing the both of them were equally worked up because neither of them was going to last. Jessie’s head was tipped back, her eyes closed and her mouth agape.

Mike couldn’t tear his eyes away as she worked toward her rapture. He helped her along, pinching and twisting her nipples before slipping a hand to her clit. Her body shuddered violently when she exploded around him, her walls pulsing and pulling him into his own rapture.

Jessie collapsed on top of Mike, pressing her face into his neck. He wrapped both arms possessively around her, nuzzling into her hair.

“What do you say to taking however much time we have left before your timer goes off to take a hot shower?”

“I think that might be a necessity at this point.”

Trailing his fingers down her spine, Mike gently cupped Jessie’s ass. “Tell me if it starts getting uncomfortable.”

“I will. I just wanna lay here a little longer.”

That was fine with Mike. The girls he used to hook up with always told him how different he was from their other booty calls because he used to stick around and cuddle after they’d finished. They thought it was to give him a better shot at a repeat visit but the truth was, he just needed the closeness.

Holding Jessie always felt different though. It not only satisfied the part of him that was touch starved, it satisfied the part of him that craved to be loved. He’d been biting his tongue whenever the words threatened to spill out, too afraid that if he said it first, she wouldn’t say it back. He didn’t think he would be able to handle that kind of rejection so, instead, he just held her a little tighter, hoping one day she would say the three little words he longed to hear.

Though she had initially been unsure about meeting Mike’s mother and Sy’s parents, Jessie did agree that if Sy got his leave, she would go with them to Georgia. On Christmas Eve, Sy called to say that he would be able to leave the base on the twenty-sixth, solidifying their plans.

Not wanting to waste any of Sy’s precious off time, Jessie and Mike slept through Christmas evening and hit the road before dawn.

At twelve o’clock on the dot, the two of them waited outside Sy’s base with breakfast sandwiches and coffees in hand. They were both pretty tired after the nine hour drive but Sy would be able to take over if ever Mike couldn’t make it through the last stretch.

There were a dozen other cars around with parents, siblings, husbands, wives and children eagerly awaiting their loved ones. Mike held Jessie as he leaned back against the hood of his car. Her leg had been bouncing up and down for the past hour. At first, Mike thought it was because she was getting restless from being cooped up in the car but he could tell now that it was the nerves of seeing Sy again after so long.

The first group of soldiers made their way out and the lot filled with excited chatter. Jessie studied each face as they came into view, searching for her man, but was disappointed to find that he was not amongst them.

“He’ll be here, don’t worry,” Mike whispered in her ear, squeezing her hip.

She tried to remain calm as the second, larger group came out. After a few of the men dispersed, she spotted one of the guys she’d seen that summer at the festival. Sure enough, Sy was not far behind.

She darted out of Mikey’s hold, sprinting towards him.

“Incoming!” Mike bellowed across the lot, immediately catching his cousin’s attention.

Sy grinned, dropping his pack and bracing himself as Jessie jumped into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist so tightly that it almost made it hard to breathe but, to Sy, that just meant that she was really there with him.

His lips found hers in a hungry kiss that was probably bordering on pornographic but he couldn’t care less about anyone seeing. It was his confirmation that Jessie still wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

When her lungs began to burn, Jessie reluctantly broke their kiss, gazing into Sy’s stunningly blue eyes. Someone beside them cursed, drawing both her and Sy’s attention. They turned their heads just in time to see Sy’s friend, Gabe, tearing a twenty dollar bill from someone’s hands.

“What is that about?” Jessie asked, turning her eyes back to Sy.

“They thought I was lyinʼ about ya goin’ out with both me and Mike. They thought it was my way of hidinʼ that you’d chosen him over me in the end.”

“And with a kiss like that you just won me twenty bucks,” Gabe beamed.

Jessie didnʼt recognize the other soldier so he hadn’t been at the festival that summer. If he had, heʼd have known she was equally crazy about both men.

“Come on, Nate,” Mike shouted from the car. “Youʼll have plenty of time to feel her up on the road. The faster we leave, the faster I can join in.” 

Jessie giggled as Sy set her back onto the ground, picking up his bag and throwing an arm around Jessie’s shoulder.

“Bye, Gabe!” 

“Nice to see you again, Jessie!”

When they finally parked outside Sy’s childhood home four hours later, the nerves found their way back to Jessie’s stomach.

“So umm, we need to talk about something before we go in,” Mike said as he shut off the car and turned to face Sy and Jessie who sat in the back seat. “Jessie got invited because my mom told your mom that she thought I had a girlfriend.”

Jessie and Sy both nodded. They already knew that.

“What do we tell them when we get inside? Do we tell them straight up that you’re dating the both of us and get it out of the way?”

“It’s what we did with my mom,” Jessie pointed out.

“Yes, but your mom also offered me a hit from her joint as soon as we walked through the door.”

Jessie’s mom was definitely unique, that was true. She was a gender studies professor who believed in female empowerment and embracing one’s sexuality. Her only question had been when could she meet Sy.

But she really wanted to make a good impression with Mike and Sy’s family and that didn’t involve being branded a whore from the moment she set foot in the house. What if they didn’t understand?

“Maybe it would be best if we didn’t tell them right now,” she eventually admitted, looking down at her shaking hands.

“It would probably be easier for them all to accept our relationship if they got to know you first,” Sy agreed though the words tasted awful as he said them. “If we tell them now they’ll make up this idea of who you are in their heads and it’ll be really hard to break it afterwards.”

“It sucks that my mom blabbed about us. This probably would have been easier if they got to know you as Sy’s girlfriend first.”

Jessie didn’t have time to ask him why before he was pushing his door open and climbing out of the car. Sy and Jessie did the same just as a man and two women came down the house’s front steps.

The older of the two women went straight for Sy, greeting him with a warm embrace. Mike on the other hand didn’t hug the woman who Jessie guessed was his mother. He said a quick hello then shook hands with Sy’s dad.

After releasing her son, Mrs. Syverson gave Mike an expectant look and he smiled sheepishly as he approached her.

“Hi Aunt B.”

Aunt B hugged Mike just as tight as she did Sy, albeit not as long, while Sy hugged both his dad and Mike’s mother.

“It’s good to see you two boys here together again,” Aunt B said before turning to Jessie. “I take it this is your mystery lady, Mike?”

Mike came to stand by Jessie’s side, taking her hand in his. “Yes. This is my girlfriend, Jessie. Jessie, these are Sy’s parents, Barbara and Robert, and this is my mother, Jill.”

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Jessie said with a shy smile.

“Welcome to our home, Jessie,” Sy’s mother said. “We are so very glad to have ya with us. Come on in!”

They hadnʼt even taken the bags out of the car but they seemed to think that it could wait until later.

“When we heard that Nate would be home today, we decided to delay our Christmas dinner. I know you boys are probably already starvin’. I made all your favorites.”

Though Jessie knew Sy was a military nickname, it was weird to hear his family refer to him by his given name. She made a mental note to ask him which one he wanted her to use.

The group made their way inside where a table of snacks had been set up in the living room. Mike immediately shoved a piece of cheese in his mouth but his mother slapped his hand away from the plate as he reached for another.

“Where are your manners? Offer your guest something to drink before you stuff your face.”

“I just got here, I don’t even know what there is to drink!”

Mr. Syverson shook his head, addressing Jessie himself. “We have white wine, beer, juice and soda in the fridge and Mike can show ya the liquor cabinet if ya want to make yourself a drink. Lord knows he raided it enough times as a kid.”

Sy was faster, walking over to said cabinet and shifting the bottles aside until he found his favorite bottle of whiskey and a bottle of spiced rum for Jessie. During their virtual dates, Sy had paid attention, learning a few of her likes, dislikes and habits. She drank rum and cokes as a cocktail but preferred wine with food. She always had a blanket nearby just in case she got cold or sometimes simply because she wanted to be cozy. His favorite thing he’d learned was that when she yawned, she made this sound—almost like a little squeak—that reminded him of a puppy.

Not wanting anyone to question why Sy already knew what she wanted to drink, Jessie dragged Mike to the fridge to get the bottle of coke. She could have gone alone but she felt uncomfortable serving herself. Mike grabbed a beer before guiding her to a cabinet to choose what size glass she wanted.

“Thank you,” Jessie whispered to Sy, setting the glasses on the table for him to fill.

“My pleasure, Sweetheart.”

Mrs. Syverson checked on the turkey in the oven, filling the room with the delicious aroma and making Jessie’s stomach grumble.

“See, we should have started with the food,” Mikey muttered under his breath. Jessie poked him in the ribs for his comment but leaned up to place a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Drinks in hand, the three of them returned to the living room where Mike and Jessie sat on the loveseat, and Sy took the folding chair that had been added to provide the missing seat.

“Did the drive go well, Mike?”

“Yeah, it was fine. There was no traffic at four in the morning so that definitely made getting out of the city less painful.”

“Why on Earth would ya have been on the road that early?” Mr. Syverson asked in a tone that made Jessie feel like a child being scolded. By the look on Mike’s face, it had the same effect on him and she felt the need to stand up for him.

“It made sense for us to pick up Sy on the way here and we didn’t want him to have to wait for us all day.”

“That’s very considerate of you, Jessie,” Aunt B said, shooting her husband a sideways glance. “We are very grateful that you two could pick him up. We hadnʼt seen him in almost a year since he moved to that base.”

Sy knew his mother hadnʼt been thrilled that he spent his summer leave with his army buddies instead of coming home. They’d grown used to him coming home on weekend leaves but that hadnʼt been possible since heʼd started Special Forces training.

“Ya know I would visit more if I could.”

“I know, dear. Itʼs not as if ya lived only twenty minutes away yet hadn’t stopped by in months.”

The not so subtle dig had very clearly been meant for Mike. Whenever he had a spare weekend where he wasnʼt working or studying, he was with Jessie. He hadn’t seen his mother in three months and apparently she had shared that fact with his aunt and uncle.

Mike had become so used to hiding his life from his mother that he didn’t really know how to share it with her anymore. It had been that way ever since the time his school had called his mother to say that they suspected he’d been smoking weed on school grounds. The only reason they hadn’t expelled him was because they couldn’t prove it because he’d dumped his stash. She’d looked so disappointed. Not wanting to ever see that look in her eyes again, he had stopped sharing things with her altogether. Good or bad.

“Iʼve been busier than usual this last semester.”

“I know, honey,” Jill reassured her son, patting Mike’s knee. “But it’s your final year, you’re almost done!”

“Have ya started lookin’ for jobs for after ya graduate?” Mr. Syverson asked, reaching to pile a few pieces of cheese and some vegetables on a little novelty napkin.

The house was not fully decorated for the holiday season but there was what looked like a handmade table runner under the plates of appetizers and various seasonal figurines on the fireplace mantle.

Next to a ceramic reindeer was a picture of two young boys who had to be Sy and Mike. They were standing on a pier each with their arm over the other’s shoulders and soaking wet from head to toe.

If she had to guess, Jessie would say Sy was around thirteen and Mike was around ten. There was no difficulty distinguishing between the two boys with Sy being a fair bit taller than Mike. And there was no mistaking that always perfectly ruffled head of hair for anyone else’s.

“I haven’t really thought about what I’m going to do once I graduate.”

“Why not? I’m sure most of the students graduatin’ next summer have already found their future employer.”

“Well, it’s hard to look for a job without knowing where I’m going to live after graduating.”

Jessie frowned, looking at Mike then at Sy. It was the first she had heard that Mike would be moving after graduation but Sy seemed unphased.

“Maybe havin’ a job lined up would fix that. Ya might not have the luxury of being picky. When it’s your first job, ya go where the work is, ya don’t wait until it finds you.”

The oven timer went off, saving Mike from having to come up with an answer to that statement. Seeing that he was a little frazzled, Jessie took Mikey’s hand as Jill, Barbara and Robert stood to help put the finishing touches on their meal.

Sy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You didn’t tell her, did you?” he spoke in a low voice, glancing over to make sure his family in the kitchen couldn’t hear.

“Tell me what?”

Mike pulled Jessie into his side, placing a kiss on her temple. “I was going to ask you if you wanted us to get a place together after graduation but Rob let the cat out of the bag before I got anything really figured out.”

“In Baltimore?” Jessie didn’t want to assume anything but Mikey did say he wasn’t sure where he would be living.

“If that’s what you want. Or maybe somewhere a little further south that Sy could call home too.”

Mouth agape, Jessie looked to Sy for confirmation before she allowed herself to get too excited.

“I’ve been tellin’ him that I shouldn’t influence your decision about where to move because I could be shipped out at any time but he’s been pretty insistent that if that was what you wanted, he would do it.”

Mikey stood, holding his hand out to help Jessie from the couch.

“Let’s talk about that later. We still have an entire meal of awkward small talk ahead of us and we need to save our strength.”

Unfortunately, he was only half joking about needing strength. Jessie finished her drink and Sy exchanged her empty cup for a glass of white wine.

Sy’s parents sat on one side of the table with Jessie and Mike across from them. Once again, Sy was the odd one out, sitting at the end of the table across from his aunt. At least Jessie was between him and Mike which allowed Sy to brush their knees together under the table without anyone noticing.

Everyone’s plates were filled and they all eagerly dug into their meal.

“I’m glad we could all be here together, it’s been so long,” Jill said. 

“It really has,” Aunt B agreed with a warm smile.

“And I’m really happy you could join us, Jessie. I’ve never had the opportunity to meet any of Mike’s girlfriends.”

“There’s no time to meet them when they change every other week.”

It was the truth but Mrs. Syverson still gave her husband a pointed look. Not everyone could be so lucky as to find the woman they wanted to marry on the first go. 

“What about you, honey?” she asked, turning her attention to her son. “Has anyone caught your fancy?”

Sy froze halfway through a bite of turkey, his eyes finding Jessie for all of half a second before fixating on his food again. He took his time swallowing the food, putting a hand on her knee below the table before he answered his mother.

“You could say that.”

“I see the military hasn’t changed ya. It’s still like pullin’ worms, the pair of you,” Mrs. Syverson gestured to both boys with her fork.

“That’s because they got so used to covering for each other whenever they got in trouble,” Mr. Syverson said.

“Thick as thieves those two used to be,” his wife added more lightheartedly. She had a fond smile on her face, as if she was picturing them as two young troublemaking boys again.

They still are, Jessie thought.

“Mike mentioned that he used to spend most of his summers here with Sy.”

“Yes, well, as I’m sure you have guessed, Mike was an energetic little boy. At first we wanted to give Jill some time to breathe but then the boys got so attached to each other that we figured it would keep them both busy through the summer boredom.”

It wasn’t at all hard to imagine that Mike would have been a hard child to care for all alone. Mike had said his teachers wanted him to get checked for ADHD but they hadn’t had the money for the evaluation or for the expensive medication so nothing had ever come of it.

“I missed not having my baby with me but it did give me two months of night shifts every year which helped pay for his first year of college.”

Jill sounded so proud that she had been able to do that for her son. It must have been quite the sacrifice to have to choose between keeping her boy close and helping him pay for his future.

She remembered Mike mentioning that Mr. and Mrs. Syverson had contributed the remaining tuition money from his grandparents’ inheritance.

“So what do you do, dear? Are you in school with Mike?” Mrs. Syverson asked Jessie.

“Not exactly… I’m a double major in English and writing at Loyola university.”

“You live in Maryland?” Jill sounded shocked. At least it helped explain why she hadn’t met Jessie yet. “How did you and Mike even meet?”

“We met at a music festival in Virginia.”

The adults nodded. Well, technically they were all adults but judging by the looks on Mike and Sy’s faces, they felt the same way she did; like they were children sitting at the grown-ups table.

“So you like that headache inducin’ music too, I take it? That I don’t miss hearin’ around the house.”

“Yes, ma’am, I do,” Jessie confirmed with a small laugh.

“So the two of you have been together since July then? Must be getting serious.”

Mike groaned, “Mom, we’ve literally been on like six dates, could you hold off a little before you start picking china patterns?”

Sy struggled to hide his frustration that all the attention was on Mike and Jessie. To him, Jessie was as much his girlfriend as she was Mike’s. Just because he had fucked her in the last six month didn’t mean he was more of a boyfriend than Sy was.

Of course Sy wanted his parents to get to know Jessie. He wanted them to grow to care for her as much as he had, but he wanted them to do so as his girlfriend. He was damn proud to be with her and he didn’t like keeping her a dirty little secret.

He managed to hang on until the empty plates were cleared before he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m a little beat from the drive, I think I’ll call it a night.”

A disappointed look fell over Jessie’s face as she gaped up at Sy. He couldn’t bring himself to meet her eye while he moved around to kiss his Mama goodnight. Jessie wasn’t the only one to be disappointed by the situation.

“I think we’ll follow you up,” Mike said, putting his hand on Jessie’s lower back and looking to her for a subtle nod of agreement. “We’ve been awake since way too early. I know where the sheets are, I’ll make up the bed.”

“No need. Mike you are sharin’ with Nathan, Jill is already set up in your room and Jessie will take the second guest bedroom down here.”

“What?” Mike’s head whipped to his uncle as he scoffed. “I’m not fifteen, you can’t tell me that I’m not allowed to share a room with my girlfriend.”

His uncle stayed firm, jabbing his finger down on the table.

“As long as you’re still under my roof, as far as Iʼm concerned, the same rules apply. No girls behind closed doors. I have no intention of watchin’ ya face the same choices my brother did and he was a year older than ya which proves that age has nothing to do with responsibility.”

“Pop—” Sy’s attempt to calmly placate his father was interrupted when Mike hastily stood from his chair.

“Don’t fucking compare me to him!” he growled.

“Mike! Language!”

Mike ignored his mother’s admonishment.

“And what the fuck do you mean having to face the same choice?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

Jessie didn’t have a clue what was going on beyond the obvious “no sex under my roof” rule and her eyes went back and forth between Mike and his uncle as they stared each other down. Mike never talked about his dad and Jessie had never asked not wanting to reopen old wounds. By the direction of the current conversation, it seemed that her choice had been wise. Beside them, the two other women remained completely silent but Barbara put her hand over Jill’s on her lap.

“It’s nice to see you think so low of me that you actually believe I would hesitate for even a second about what to do.” To the untrained ear, the bite in his words might sound like anger but Jessie knew that was only to mask the hurt he was feeling.

“That’s because no matter how hard I tried, ya still turned out like him! Ya party all the time, you’ve slept with damn near half the girls in Nate’s year—yeah, I know about that—and from last I heard, ya barely show up to enough classes to scrape by. You’re a good kid Mike but ya make stupid decisions. Ya may not like to hear it but you’re just like your dad.”

Sy was furious. His father had gone over the line. Apparently he’d chosen that particular moment to give Mike some tough love. What he didn’t realize was that Jessie was the exact reason why Mike didn’t need that anymore. Mike wanted to be more responsible. He was trying really hard to be the kind of man he thought Jessie deserved. His cousin, who had never earned above a B in his entire academic career, had gotten an A on not one, but two midterms. Sy couldn’t be anything other than proud because he knew how much effort and work had been needed to get those grades.

Now, however, Mike was working hard on maintaining his last shred of self-control. His fists clenched so tightly at his sides that Sy was afraid he might draw his own blood but rather than lash out, Mike stormed out through the back door without another word.

“That was uncalled for,” Jill said quietly.

“You wouldn’t be sayin’ that if ya ended up a grandmother by age forty-five.”

“You don’t know that that would happen.”

“Ya don’t know that it wouldn’t.”

Jessie’s gaze fell to her lap where she was wringing the cloth napkin in her hands. Shame burned at her cheeks. Had she suddenly turned invisible? These people were debating what would happen if Mike got her pregnant as if she wasn’t there to hear it.

“I’m goin’ to go find Mike. Don’t expect any of us back tonight.”

Sy walked around the table, helping Jessie up and leading her towards the mudroom where Mike had escaped. Outside, Mike’s car was gone and that was the last straw. Jessie burst into tears.

“Fuck, Sweetheart, come here.”

Sy pulled Jessie against his chest, holding her close as she sobbed.

“Why did your dad say all those things to Mikey?”

“Because my dad never forgave Chris for abandoning his son. It don’t make anything he said right but in his mind, he was protectin’ ya from goin’ through the same shit aunt Jill did. Neither of us had tried to bring home a girl since we finished high school so I guess we both just assumed that old rule wouldn’t apply anymore.”

“What about you? Why were you so eager to go off to bed?”

With a sigh, he released Jessie, cupping her face so she looked up at him.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard to watch you and Mike together. The best I got in the last six months was a Skype call so I got a little jealous watchin’ him touch ya the way I’ve been wishin’ I could. And I kinda wished that my mama would’ve been tryin’ to get to know ya because she wanted to, not because she was bein’ polite to a guest.”

A wave of guilt washed over Jessie.

“We didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I’m so sorry.”

“I know, Sweetheart. Thank you.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead then another to her lips.

“What do we do now? Where would he go?”

Sy gave her a small smile, looking every bit as handsome as Jessie remembered in the evening light.

“I already know where he is. For now, we give him a bit of time to cool off, then you go show him that whatever you heard tonight didn’t change what you think of him.” Sy hesitated for a moment. “It didn’t, did it?”

“Of course not!”

“Good.” He gave a determined nod then took Jessie’s hand in his. “Now come on, I need your help with something, then we can go bring Mike home.”

The woods behind the creek hadn’t changed since the last time Mike had been there. It did seem that the newer generations had found a different place to hangout and get drunk because it was devoid of the normal empty beer cans. Or maybe teenagers had gotten better at clearing their trash in the last few years.

A big tree had fallen over years ago and it served as a bridge to cross over the water. It made the hideout more secluded but it was also a bitch to cross once the alcohol hit and everyone had to go home.

The rocks that they used to use to form their fire pit were still there and Mike rearranged them in a circle around the hole in the ground. He cleared the dead leaves and dug it out a little more before collecting some broken tree branches and taking some bark from a nearby Birch.

Building the base of his fire was almost meditative. It gave Mike something to think about besides how horribly dinner had ended. No matter how angry he had been, he shouldn’t have abandoned Jessie there. At least Sy was around to take care of her. Sharing seemed to have some advantages.

Mike took hold of the joint he had placed behind his ear before getting out of the car and lit it, taking a long drag. He held the smoke in his lungs until they burned before slowly letting it out and moving the lighter to the Birch bark. He fed small twigs to the flame, progressively adding bigger wood until he no longer needed to nurture the flame to keep it alight.

“Still a closet pyro I see.”

Mike whipped around at the sound of Sy’s voice. Jessie stood by his side, one hand in his and the other clutching his bicep.

“Are you okay?” she asked even if she knew he wasn’t.

“Don’t worry about it.” Mike turned back towards the fire, finishing off his joint before throwing the butt into the fire.

“Don’t do that,” Jessie pleaded, letting go of Sy to sit beside Mike and resting her head on his shoulder. “Don’t pretend like you aren’t hurt.”

“I’m sorry I bailed. I figured it was better to get out of there before I flipped over a table or something. Aunt B worked hard on her meal and she didn’t deserve for it to be sprayed all over the floor.”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize for leaving. If you need to calm down and clear your head before you can talk things over then that’s what I want you to do.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he lied.

“Isn’t there?” Sy challenged, dropping down on Mike’s other side. “I know you, Mike. Fire is what ya do when your thoughts get too loud. So what are they yellin’ about?”

Mike closed his eyes, letting his head fall back. His thoughts were yelling about so many things. Useless, waste of space, unworthy. He was already working through twenty-one years worth of insecurities and twenty-one years worth of hatred and resentment for his father before his uncle said what he’d said.

Mike knew nothing about his dad except for the few breadcrumbs his uncle or his mother had dropped about him over the years which were by no means flattering. Those breadcrumbs could be summarized in three words: girls, drugs, crime.

“Maybe you’re better off with Sy.”

“What?” Sy and Jessie spoke simultaneously but with very different tones. Jessie sounded shocked, looking at Mike with wide eyes. Sy’s voice was a low, angry growl.

“I mean, everything Rob said was true. You deserve better than a fuck up like me.”

“You think that acting like a teenager when you’re in high school makes you a fuck up?” Sy asked, pulling Mike’s attention away from the look of pure hurt on Jessie’s face. “And what makes me more deserving of Jessie than you?”

“You’re the golden boy. Graduated early, free ride to college on a football scholarship, promptly moving up the ranks and now you’re Spec Ops.”

Sy stayed quiet for a long moment, taking in Mike’s words. He’d never known Mike felt that way about him. There might have been a time when they were kids where Mike followed him around trying to be like him but he’d just chalked that up to normal childhood behaviors. He never thought that Mike would be… what? Threatened? Insecure? Jealous? He didn’t really know but that sounded like the kind of conversation the two of them should have on their own.

“I was only the golden boy because I was better at not getting caught.” Sy gently shoved Mike’s head aside, earning him a fleeting smile from the younger man. “You know none of that makes me better than you though, right?”

Mike shrugged as pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around his legs and clasping his hands together. “Why shouldn’t it?”

“Because you’re your own person with your own skill set. You can’t compare yourself to me and pop should never have compared you to Chris because you’re not him either.”

Jessie nodded emphatically. “He’s right,” she said, putting a hand on Mike’s cheek but he didn’t dare turn his face to look at her.

“I love you both just the way you are, Mikey.”

That caused both men to fix their gaze on Jessie.

“You what?” Mikey spoke almost inaudibly.

Jessie pulled her hand away, scrambling to get her feet under her. “Nothing!”

Mikey didn’t let her escape, instead catching her wrist and drawing her back down to his lap.

“Say it again,” he whispered with his forehead pressed against hers.

Jessie’s breath hitched as she looked into Mike’s vulnerable eyes. She hadn’t meant to pick such a moment to make her admission but he needed to know exactly how she felt.

“I love you, Mike.”

She’d been thinking about it for a little while now but she hadn’t wanted to say it over the phone.

“I love you too, Gorgeous.”

Mike placed a tender kiss on her lips, holding Jessie close to his body. Mike would have loved to stay that way all night but he could sense Sy shifting awkwardly by his side.

He placed one more kiss on Jessie’s cheek before nudging her towards Sy who happily moved her to sit astride his lap.

“It’s okay if you need more time,” Sy said, as if that would make it hurt less if she didn’t say those three little words to him.

Jessie shook her head, wrapping her arms around Sy’s neck. “I don’t. I love you.”

“And I love you, Jessie.”

He took his time as he kissed her, making sure to convey just how much he loved and cared for Jessie.

“As much fun as we had the last time the three of us spent a night outdoors, I think our bed is calling our name.”

“I don’t think I can go back tonight, Sweetcheeks.” Mike didn’t want to make his girlfriend spend the night out in the cold with him but he wasn’t ready to face his uncle and there were no motels within an hour’s drive. 

“Hmm… Well, I guess it’s a good thing that Sy and I have a surprise for you, then.”

Mike squinted suspiciously as Jessie and Sy shared a conspiratorial look.

Jessie drove Mike’s car through town, following Sy back to their home for the night. He was uncharacteristically quiet by her side but he kept a hand on her thigh the whole time which helped reassure her that though he was still lost to his thoughts, he was holding on to her rather than pushing her away.

“If the trailer is a-rocking…” Mikey said when the car came to a stop in front of the motorhome.

“Don’t come a-knocking,” Jessie finished. “I thought you might like this. It was Sy’s idea.”

“You know this isn’t much of a step up from the tent, right?”

“It has electricity, a tiny bathroom with running water, a king sized bed… How is it not a step up?”

“Wait seriously? A king bed?”

Jessie smiled, seeing her fun-loving and easygoing boyfriend slowly crawl his way out of the pit his sour mood had thrown him in.

“Come on. Sy’s waiting for us.”

Jessie pushed her door open but Mikey didn’t move. He looked down at his hands, fiddling with his old zippo lighter.

“I was supposed to give you guys a night alone.”

“I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it up to him.”

Mike exhaled a slow breath, nodding once before following Jessie out of the car. After pulling their bags from the trunk, they made their way inside the trailer where Sy had already set out three beers on the dinette table. Sy took both their bags and brought them into the bedroom, while Mike pulled Jessie into his side, kissing her cheek before he guided her to take a seat on one side of the table while he sat on the other.

When Sy returned, he paused for a moment but followed Mike’s lead, sitting beside Jessie who snuggled into his side like a cat.

“How much did you smoke tonight?” he questioned as he studied the younger man.

He assumed by how buzzed Mike looked, that the joint he’d seen him finish was not his first but they’d only left him for forty-five minutes at most—just enough time for them to tow the trailer to the campsit then go find Mike. Sy hoped Mike hadn’t opted for chain smoking as a coping mechanism when he could have talked it out with either him or Jessie.

Mike’s eyelids drooped, partially concealing the redness behind them. “Just one joint.”

Sy was tempted to call bullshit but he didn’t want it to sound like an accusation instead of the concern he actually felt.

Mike seemed to already know what he was thinking though, not needing to hear the words aloud. “I haven’t been smoking much lately. I lost my tolerance,” he shrugged, leaning back into the corner of the bench and throwing his leg over the seat.

Sy suspected—as he did with most other changes in Mike’s life lately—that Jessie was the cause of his reduced consumption.

“So, Nate,” Mike said, changing the subject, “you never told us what you thought of that little early Christmas gift I sent you.”

“Meaning that video? Which I opened in a room filled with senior officers, thanks for the heads up by the way.”

Mikey had the audacity to look smug, causing Sy to roll his eyes while shaking his head. In his defense, he had said that Sy should open it while he was alone. Sy turned his attention to Jessie instead.

“Pink is sexy as hell on you, Sweetheart,” he whispered against her neck as he held her close.

“I’ll have to give you a live show sometime.”

Jessie’s eyes closed, her head tipping to the side to give Sy better access. If the table hadn’t been in the way, he would have pulled her onto his lap as he began kissing down her throat.

“Don’t need anything more than you, right here, to get me hard as fuckin’ steel.”

Mike watched with rapt attention as Sy slowly teased Jessie. His hands roamed over her breasts before moving downwards. Unfortunately, the table obscured his view of what he did once they reached the waistband of her pants but Jessie’s gasp told him all he needed to know.

“Missed that sound. I hear it in my dreams,” he confessed.

“Must make for damn good dreams,” Mike smirked, shifting in his seat.

Jessie’s breath hitched as Sy’s fingers circled her clit over her panties with just enough pressure to work her up without really giving her any satisfaction.

“Why are we talking about dreams when we could all have the real thing right here, right now?”

Neither man argued, moving to stand from the table. Sy pulled Jessie up, revealing her jeans which were wide open and the bright red panties below. Mikey had picked them out before they left but he’d been shooed out of the room before Jessie slipped them on and it had been driving him crazy not knowing how they looked on her and whether she’d worn a matching bra.

Sy tossed Jessie on her stomach on the bed and dexterously stripped her of her skinny jeans. Mike had been right, Jessie’s ass was to die for in those panties. It seemed Sy shared his opinion because he gave her a sharp spank and bit the meat of her juicy ass so hard there was no doubt she’d have a mark afterwards.

Jessie groaned with a mix of pleasure and sweet pain, reaching back to place a hand on Sy’s scruffy cheek. She tried to guide him to her center but instead, he moved away, kissing down the back of her legs. Once he reached one ankle, he flipped her onto her back and kissed back up the other leg.

Mike removed Jessie’s shirt—happy to find that she had indeed worn the matching bra—before settling on the bed with her between his legs and her head on his lap. The position gave him the perfect angle to play with her tits while Sy dragged the naughty red lace down her thighs.

“I’ve waited a long time to do this,” he said almost reverently before burying his head between her legs.

Jessie cried out and the sound made Mikey’s cock jerk in his pants. He reached down, undoing the zipper to relieve some of the pressure. Jessie’s hands frantically pulled at Sy’s shirt until he ripped the thin barrier over his head and his warm skin was bared to her.

Mike kept his eyes on Jessie’s face while she was hypnotized by the sight of Sy tongue fucking her cunt. Mike had always heard the gossip about Sy’s skills but seeing Jessie lost in the pleasure cemented that it wasn’t just a high school rumour. Did she look that blissed out when he was the one going down on her?

As if Jessie could read his thoughts, her hooded gaze found his and she pushed herself up on her elbow while pulling his head down to crush their lips together. The awkward spider-man position didn’t really allow them to deepen the kiss but he felt her feverish need all the same. Her need for him, not just Sy.

Mike moved down the bed, propping Jessie up with her back to his chest. He removed her bra and his shirt, and when she leaned against him again, skin touching skin, she let out a satisfied sigh. It was all too easy now to paint her neck in deep hickeys as he pinched her nipples.

“Think you can take us both tonight, Sweetcheeks?” Mike whispered too low for Sy to hear. He didn’t want to get his hopes up in case Jessie didn’t feel ready yet. Not that Sy would let deception show in front of Jessie—if he felt deception at all.

Jessie gave him an eager nod, earning her an appreciative groan. The bed dipped as Mikey climbed off, moving to riffle through Jessie’s bag. Her head fell to the side, watching him move. Why was it so hot when a man was shirtless with open jeans hanging low on his hips?

Sy curled his fingers into her G spot, pulling Jessie’s focus back to the man feasting between her thighs. They quivered from their position above Sy’s shoulders as her hips bucked upwards. Her hand flew down, cupping the back of his head and holding him in place.

“Right there.”

Sy opened his eyes, watching Jessie’s blissed expression. The hand that held her hips down moved to her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His own hips moved unconsciously against nothing, his neglected cock desperate for the slightest bit of relief.

“Come for him, Gorgeous. Give him what he wants,” Mike commanded. She could do nothing but comply, coming all over Sy’s face.

She lay boneless as the boys moved around her, stripping off their remaining clothing. Mike tossed the items he’d retrieved from her bag onto the bed before pushing his pants and boxers down.

“I thought you’d gotten an IUD,” Sy commented when he noticed the box of condoms beside Jessie.

“Mikey kept the mandatory condoms rule.”

Sy looked at Mike over his shoulder. The younger man looked almost guilty as he pulled his eyes away.

“You do what you want.”

He might have been satisfied with Jessie being on birth control but he didn’t mind the extra protection. Especially since he knew that the possibility of an unplanned pregnancy was a big sore spot for Mike.

“No, I’m good with that.”

It was almost imperceptible but Mike’s shoulders relaxed at Sy’s words, like all he’d needed was a little validation. It’s not like things would be easier if it were Sy getting Jessie pregnant. What if he got shipped out? It would still be Mike staying behind and taking care of Jessie. There was no doubt in Sy’s mind that that was exactly what Mike would do.

They both stalked towards Jessie, each stretching out on one side of her. Sy took Jessie’s lips while Mike kissed his way from her neck to her breasts. His fingers found her dripping folds, slick from both her earlier release and Sy’s enthusiastic pleasuring.

He gathered some of the moisture before his fingers dipped lower, finding her back entrance. When he gently pushed inside, Jessie gasped into Sy’s mouth. The hand that had been teasing Mike’s nape tightened around his wavy locks and he shifted to study her face for any signs of discomfort.

“Mike? Are ya doin’ what I think you’re doin’?”

The younger man pushed in deeper, looking up at Sy with a smirk when it caused Jessie to moan.

“Since you’ve been stuck with your hand since last summer, you get to choose. You want her hot pussy or her tight ass?”

Sy’s gaze darkened as he realized the implications of the choice being offered to him.

“Is that what you two have been up to while I was away?” he asked Jessie.

“Not yet. You want to be my first?”

The sound that rose from his chest was damn near animalistic. “As appealin’ as that invitation is, that’s not what I was thinkin’ about whenever I had a moment to myself. Besides, it looks like Mike has been doin’ the work, he should get to reap the rewards first.”

“Then get on your back, soldier.”

Amused, Sy did as he was told, laying on his back in the middle of the bed. Mike pulled away long enough for Jessie to straddle Sy’s waist and lock him in a fiery kiss. Jessie was thrilled for her hands to finally roam all over his body. He seemed to have the same idea because Jessie was sure his touch was going to leave its mark.

“This is gonna be cold, sorry.”

Mike was right, the gel was cold from the evening in the trunk of the car but her boyfriend’s hands were warm as he continued to work her open. Below them, Sy blindly reached for a condom, rolling it down his shaft. He placed his tip at her entrance and she eagerly lowered herself down until he was sheathed to the hilt.

It was Mike’s turn to suit up and add a coat of lubricant over the latex.

“Nate, hold her for me.”

For a moment Sy looked unsure, seeking confirmation from Jessie.

“I accidentally jerked forward once and it hurt more than all the other times combined.”

Jessie lowered herself down, bringing her chest flush against Sy’s and busied herself with sucking deep bruises into his collarbone. He wrapped his thick arms around her, holding her in place while the blunt head of Mike’s cock found her entrance.

“Tell Sy your safeword, Sweetcheeks.”

“Homesick,” she whispered, her nose brushing against his ear.

A hopeful warmth bloomed in Sy’s chest. Homesick. The name of the album on which their song was released? At least, what he considered to be their song. They’d never discussed it or anything. Maybe he was reading too much into it, but if he was right, she’d thought about him as much as he’d thought about her.

A hand moved into Jessie’s hair, pulling into a languid kiss. She melted into him and Mike took the opportunity to push inside her.

The first inch was easy enough but when he reached his full girth Jessie’s breath hitched.

“You’re doin’ so well, baby. You tell us when ya wanna keep goin’.”

“I’m good, it’s just… a lot.”

After adding a bit more lube, Mike continued to work his way deeper until he was fully inside Jessie. All three of them were breathing heavily, all three of them feeling like they were on a hairpin trigger.

It took a moment for Jessie to adjust to the feeling of being so completely and utterly filled but she eventually pushed herself up onto her hands and knees.

“Somebody please move.”

After a bit of shifting and adjusting, the three of them found a steady rhythm. Sy would pull out of her pussy as Mike plunged into her ass then they would switch. Together they worked Jessie until she was teetering over the edge but she forced the sensation away. If she was going to come, she wanted to do so as they both exploded inside her.

“Fuck, I can feel you clenching my cock, baby.”

“Are you close, Sweetcheeks? Do you like being full of the both of us? Are you gonna come for us?”

“Oh yeah, she loves it. Can’t you tell by the way her greedy little holes are trying to milk our cocks?”

The dirty talk was going to be the death of her. She couldn’t hold off any longer and she cried out their names as she shook between them. Sy groaned low and guttural while curse after curse fell from Mike’s lips, both of them following her over the edge.

Fingers dug into her hips with a bruising grip. She wasn’t sure if they were Mike or Sy’s or maybe even both. Her eyelids felt too heavy to lift as she melted further into Sy’s chest. The happy little bubble enveloping them was broken when the warm body at her back pulled away, letting the cool air hit her sweat-slicked skin.

Jessie whined, blindly reaching back but Mike was already out of reach.

“Don’t worry gorgeous, I’m just getting something to clean you up.”

Sy wrapped his thick arms around her, smoothing his hand up and down her back while Mike disposed of the condom and cleaned the excess lube from between Jessie’s cheeks. Once he was done, he handed Sy the shirt Jessie wore to bed every night—Sy’s shirt— while he found clean briefs for himself before crawling up the bed and pulling Jessie into his chest. Sy reluctantly sat up, taking his turn and cleaning himself up the same way Mike had.

Just then, Sy’s phone went off, a muffled ringing sounding from the back pocket of his jeans that were still on the floor. Checking the caller ID, Sy paused before sitting on the edge of the bed and accepting the call.

“Hi pop.”

His father ignored the greeting, getting straight to the point. “Telling Mike that he couldn’t sleep in the same room as his girlfriend was not an invitation for you to go off and let them use the trailer.”

“Why not? By your own definition ‘my roof, my rules’.” Sy’s grandparents had left the trailer to him in their will. They knew he liked camping but they figured that he deserved a decent bed instead of the hard ground after so many nights on army bunks.

“And what is your plan, Nathan? Are you just gonna sit outside and listen to them go at it all night?”

Sy’s father was speaking loud enough that the three of them could hear his words clearly. After sharing a silent exchange, Jessie and Mike both nodded at Sy.

“Actually, I’m going to enjoy an evening of catching up with my girl who I haven’t seen in six months.”

“What are you talking about? Are you saying Jessie is your girlfriend not Mikeʼs?”

“No. Mike and I both met Jessie this summer, we both hit it off with her, and we are both dating her.”

“You’re being ridiculous, you can’t both be dating her.”

“We can and we are. Whatever you think of that…” Sy trailed off, looking between Jessie and Mike again. “We both love her. Whatever you think doesnʼt matter and it wonʼt change anything so if you don’t like it, donʼt bother sharinʼ your opinion.”

Syʼs father didn’t say anything for a long time before the dial tone informed Sy that he had hung up.

The silence weighed heavily around the trio until Mikeʼs phone buzzed in his bag. Against his better judgment, Mike picked it up, already knowing it was his mother. Sensing he wouldn’t have the mental clarity to repeat anything important, he answered it on speaker. If she was going to talk about the three of them then the three of them should hear.

“Hi mom.”

“Mike? Mike, where are you?”

He winced at the hint of panic in her voice.

“I’m with Nate and Jessie.” It wasn’t a location but it was as good as she was going to get. If they really wanted to track them down it wouldn’t be all that hard, they didn’t need any help.

She released a relieved sigh. “So they found you then? I wasn’t sure, all I heard from Rob was that Nate said you two were both dating Jessie.”

“They did, and we are.”

“Do you really love her?”

Mike locked eyes with Jessie. “I do.”

“Can you put Jessie on the phone, please?”

Jessie’s eyes went wide, waiting for Mike to tell her what to do. He took the phone off speaker and pushed it towards her.

“Jill?”

“Don’t break his heart, okay?”

Jessie was stunned, almost speechless as she clenched the phone in her hand. “What?”

Jill sniffed on the other end of the line. “If Mike says he loves you then he really means it. I haven’t heard those words from him since he was a kid. Don’t break his heart. You can’t just string him along because you need someone around while Sy is away.”

It would be stupid to make any sort of promise after only a few months. So much was going to change for them in the next year and so much was still uncertain. Despite that, she found herself speaking the words and meaning them with all her heart.

“I won’t,” she vowed.

“Rob is just scared. He loves them both like sons, he doesn’t want to watch another member of his family spiral down the rabbit hole. He’ll calm down. Me and Barbara are going to be at the diner tomorrow at nine. The boys will know the one. You three should join us for breakfast.”

“I’ll tell them.”

With a quick goodbye, Jessie handed the phone back to Mike.

“I think… I think she’s okay with us. Your moms want us to have breakfast with them tomorrow morning.”

“You can’t expect me to be anywhere earlier than noon,” Mike joked, attempting to hide his relief.

“We both know your stomach is going to be growling so loud that we will all be awake by seven,” Jessie teased, nudging Mike with her foot.

“I guess that means you’ll have to give me something to eat to tide me over.”

Jessie bit her bottom lip as her cheeks flushed and her smile grew. Sy drew Jessie back into his side, brushing his thumb over her arm while he placed a kiss to the side of her neck.

“Agreed, he gets cranky when he’s hungry. I should know, I used to have to drive him to the store whenever he had midnight munchies.”

Mike switched off the light and the three of them burrowed under the covers. She nestled into Mike’s chest with Sy pressed against her back and his leg tangled between hers. This felt right. Jessie couldn’t begin to imagine having to choose between the two men. Sy was all rugged and mysterious while Mike was outgoing and playful. They were two puzzle pieces that fit with her so perfectly. She needed both of them. They completed her in different ways and she was not going to let anyone make her feel ashamed of that.

Part 3

[isleofair]

Am I allowed to say Nathan and all of those questions?

(If not, Nathan and idk all the evens or odds.)

MWAHAHAHAHA THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVE 💙💙💙💙💙

(Apparently I do need an excuse to talk about Nathan? At least here? Tragic. Thank you for providing one 💖💖💖)

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

Oh gosh. I don't just like her, I love her. 😍 She manages to be pretty much everything I'm not and yet she resonates with me so much?!? They initially look like they are one type of character, and then you get to see their layers, and each one is more beautiful and complex than the other? I want to hang out with her, I want to admire her from afar with dreamy/smitten eyes, I want her to be president of the world, I want to give her a happy, serene life forever.

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Her whole gender thing (talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, and all that), and also her kind, generous, thoughtful, sweet nature.

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

Definitely the way the authors had her act with Bison in S1. 😤

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

(Sorry, that's just what nicoroni and I do in half of our chats, lol)

I think the thing I would most want to put them in is... some kind of fantasy setting? Something like Ladyhawke, or... well, Fire Emblem! 😅

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

Oooh. I've used so many songs as accompaniment for fics about her and Keith, but I don't have one that immediately jumps to mind specifically for Nathan alone. Maybe Titanium?

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

... well, pink hair, now, lol. (And I guess some gender issues of some kind? Although mine are, like, tiny baby ones.)

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

Respecting their gender.

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

Treating her as a caricature of herself, or as if The Rising didn't exist (which includes not respecting her gender). (Thankfully I almost never see this happening. ILU T&B fandom 💕)

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

I could, but I think I'd drive her nuts, I'm way too messy.

10. Could you be best friends with this character?

Gosh. Probably not best friends, because we don't have enough interests in common, but I think we could more generally be friends?

11. Would you date this character?

In a heartbeat, but they would not be interested in me for several reasons, so...

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

That her fire powers mean she's never cold; mostly based on her walking around half-naked in spring, or with thin mesh shirts under rather open jackets in winter, and also it just makes sense? Apparently the authors have stated somewhere that she's heat-proof (obviously), but also that Rose can cool down with her power, so Nathan probably also can warm up with hers (and just put on whatever she wants forever, lol)

13. What's an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot?

💖

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

I don't think I need to; they definitely already have one (tight clothes, mesh, vinyl, high boots, glittery jackets, pink feathers... and the occasional bondage-style leather top JFC my poor heart 🥵)

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

FIRESKY FOREVER ❤️💜

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

I pray to everything that is holy that no one ever shipped her with any of the other girl heroes because that's a NO on so many levels I can't even count them.

17. What's a ship for this character you don't hate but it's not your favorite that you're fine with?

Mmmh. I'm going to cheat here and say MoonFireSky? (although probably in either an AU where Yuri is less murderous, or in one in which everything is way more majorly fucked up). I also really like the "Kotetsu and Nathan might have hooked up in the past" thing.

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

Nathan's friendship with Kotetsu is BEAUTIFUL. I also love their relationship with Pao-Lin (go, go, gender team!)

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

Mh. I guess it used to be the one with Bison in S1, but thankfully we got over the bad authorial choices, so... Apparently Lara's mom was vaguely rude about Nathan's temper once? Yet another reason to dislike her.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

Okay, this should be a difficult question, because her friendship/partnership with Keith is AMAZING, but... Agnes. Like, one hundred percent. Keith can be her boyfriend instead.

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 😍 (I love writing Nathan.)

I love exploring her gender and all her slightly-hidden depths. I love giving her soft, comforting moments (especially with Keith). I love, apparently, making frequent references to her beauty 😅

I don't like how I have to often remind myself that she is that over-the-top in canon and even though the tone of my fics doesn't usually quite match that of the show, I should still try to respect their characterization as much as I possibly can.

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

Gosh, just write her being her awesome self with appropriate pronouns and I'm already on board. If you put her with Keith I'll die of joy.

Use he/him exclusively for them without a reason and I'll probably click the back button.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

I love the one in my icon, but I might have to go with this moment in The Rising:

24. What other character from another fandom of yours reminds you of them?

Well, the whole "superhero who owns their own company" thing is a fair bit Iron Man, isn't it? But also, and this might be a bit strange, when I imagine Victor Nikiforov in my head now, he sounds like Tsuda-san's Nathan? Make of that what you will.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Welcome to the 'irritating stereotypical anime take on queer people' to 'complex, nuanced and gorgeous blorbo love of my life' pipeline.

26. FREEBIE QUESTION!!

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

"Should everyone everywhere love Nathan?"

"Yes."

[austerulous]

CHARACTER  AESTHETICS  .        bold  what  applies  ! — ANNIE LEONHARDT

I.    THE  FAIRY.    chipped  nail  polish  .    glitter  highlight  .    tall  trees with  smooth  bark  .    tangled hair  .    the taste of cinnamon sugar  .    talking  too  loud  and  too  fast  .    overgrown  flowers  in  your  hair  .    crumbling  buildings  reclaimed  by  nature  .    flirting  .    walking  home  at  3am  with  no  coat  .    platonic  hand - holding  .    blowing  smoke  out  of  your  nose  .    dragonfly  wings  .    chaotic  good  .    freckles  .    fairy  rings  .    secret  meetings  .    gender  nonconformity  .    leather  .    smudged  eyeliner  .    forbidden  fruit  .

II.    THE  REAPER.    computer  errors  .    a  shiver  down  your  spine  .    haunting  beauty  .    hard  liquor  .    crowns  of  thorns  .    shadowed  alleyways  .    decaying  plant  matter  .    shattered  mirrors  and  broken  glass  .    corrupted  memories  .    stopped  clocks  .    the  scent  of  stale  cigarettes  .    tattered  black  hoodies  .    walking  your  friends  home  .    the  crescent  moon  .    the  sea  .    a  graveyard  on  a  foggy  day  .    cold  rings  on  cold  fingers  .    absolution  .    looking  out  the  window  of  an  airplane  .    soft  kisses  .

III.    THE  WITCH.    graffiti  .    pretending  to  know  what  you ’ re  doing  .    worn  paperback  books  .    growing  up  too  fast  .    parsley  ,    sage  ,    rosemary  ,    and  thyme  .    lace  and  combat  boots  .    moth  wings  .    candles  on  every  surface  .    a  weathered  deck  of  cards  .    turning  the  music  up  .    fireflies  in  jars  .    calloused  fingers  .    drawing  on  your  skin  .    sunlight  filtering  through  clouds  .    petrichor  .    a  dying  rose  in  a  jar  .    wearing  a  crystal  pendant  .    illusions  and  spells  .    black  cats  .    mint  gum  .    chapped  lips  .    dirt  under  your  fingernails  .    the  cycle  of  life  and  death  .

IV.    THE  WOLF.    murders  of  crows  .    frost-bitten  leaves  .    wolves  howling  at  midnight  .    knocking  on  your  door  .    leaving  food  out  for  stray  animals  .    the  twang  of  an  acoustic  guitar  .    honey  .    tiny  red  buds  on  trees  .    claw  marks  on  the  walls  .    golden  eyes  .    slightly  too  long  stubble  .    sharp  canines  .    soft  ,     thick  fur  .    hunger  .    a  small  cottage  in  the  middle  of  the  woods  .    knitted  fingerless  gloves  .    sleeping  on  the  forest  floor  .    always  finding  your  way  back  home  .

tagged by:  @arrowablaze – pretty aesthetics, thank you! ♡ tagging:  @agglomerate​, @blxiddiau, @burdensofblood, @paddyfuck​, @atkwar​, @keith-shadis​, @hawksblooded​, @terrorpriest​.

[starlightments]

                                    PREVIEW: chapter one

    When Keith’s notorious temper lands him in major trouble at school, he’s forced to serve out his time somewhere even more nightmarish than detention: the drama club. Despite his determination to avoid the spotlight at all costs, an unintentional mishap ends up getting him not only cast in the show, but playing opposite Lance McClain, a boisterous and bright-eyed thespian who Keith just can’t seem to shake – on stage or off.   

Language: English  |  Rating: TBD  |  Art Credit: here  

FANDOM: Voltron: Legendary Defender

GENRE: High school AU, rivals-to-lovers

PAIRING(S): Keith/Lance

                                                 . . . . . . . . . . . .

It’s getting late by the time they roll into Keith’s sleepy little neighborhood, the one with the crooked power lines and flickering streetlamps lining the sidewalk, dead trees swaying high above the rooftops like shadowy claws in the night. 

Adam drives with stiff precision and only one hand on the wheel. The other is busy massaging tiny circles into his brow, right above the wire frame of his glasses, where a migraine is inevitably beginning to flare up. 

“Almost there,” comes his low, weary voice.  

Keith, drowsing in the passenger seat of Adam’s decade-old Volvo, sullenly stirs to life. Sensation creeps back into him like moonlight through the mist, only harsher, less pretty: the rattling engine, his throbbing nose, that split second of startled realization when he looks down and sees dried blood smeared across his knuckles. 

He misses the silence—and the numb, hollowed-out feeling that came with it—but at least Adam has the decency not to pry. Earlier, while Keith was waiting to be picked up outside school, palm pressed against his busted lip in a messy attempt to stop the bleeding, he had already braced himself for what he assumed would be one hell of a tirade, but aside from a half-serious quip about tossing Keith into a roadside ditch if he gets blood stains anywhere near the leather upholstery, Adam hasn’t uttered a single word until now. 

One of his better qualities, really, in Keith’s honest opinion.  

“Yeah,” he mutters, slumping in his seat so that he can put his feet up on the dashboard. “I know.”  

At the traffic light, Adam glances over, concern hanging heavy behind his eyes as he drags them up and down the boy’s face, examining his bruises in that cool, clinical way he sometimes has about him. It makes Keith want to snarl like an angry wolf.  

“Put something cold on that when you get home,” Adam instructs, leaning over and calmly knocking his feet back off. 

“I know that, too,” snaps Keith. His scowl threatens to split his lip open all over again. “I’m not an idiot.” 

The light turns green, and Adam shifts the car back into drive. “Well,” he sighs, “that’s debatable.” 

A row of quaint saltbox-style houses comes into view. Most of them have gone pitch-dark by now, except for Keith’s, which still has a faint glow sneaking past the living room curtains. Of course, his brother is probably inside—waiting up for him on the sofa, clutching diligently at his phone—and even just imagining it puts Keith on edge, skin prickling all over, hot and itchy with dread. 

“You’ll be alright, then?” Adam asks once he pulls into the driveway. 

“Sure,” says Keith, shouldering his bag. “Thanks for the ride.” 

“It was definitely not my pleasure at all, whatsoever.” 

Keith finds himself hesitating as he reaches for the door handle. A muscle in his jaw clenches, protesting what he’s about to say. “Just—don’t tell Shiro.” Then, after a moment of reluctant consideration, he grumbles, “…Please.” 

Adam’s lip curls on one side, like it’s a secret. “I doubt I’d need to, anyway,” he says, nodding at Keith’s nose. 

Huffily, Keith takes the hint; he uses the sleeve of his jacket to wipe a fresh trail of blood away, and then clambers out of the car without any grace or regard for how Adam’s whole face puckers in disapproval. The Volvo swerves back onto the street in a spray of gravel, headlights fading into a distant, smoldering speck. Keith watches from the curb, watches himself get left behind in the gloom, before heading toward the light. 

The way he slinks into the house feels like a well-worn routine. Every step is carefully calculated. He knows which floorboards creak the loudest, and exactly how to maneuver around them, but there’s nothing he can do about the screen door squealing shut behind him. 

“Hey,” Shiro calls out from the living room. His voice just barely carries over the muffled prattle of some fast-talking infomercial salesman on TV, followed by the rustling of couch cushions. “How was your day?”

Keith swiftly ducks into the kitchen. “Uhh,” he calls back, yanking the freezer door open and rifling through it. Not that there’s much to account for in there—a couple ice trays, some frozen corn, and a carton of mint chip ice cream with a very questionable expiration date. “Fine,” is what he eventually settles on.   

“Oh, really?” 

He smacks a bag of corn over his left eye, and then closes the freezer door when, suddenly, out of nowhere, Shiro materializes on the other side of it. Keith jolts at the sight of him, feeling something go all tight and panicky inside his throat for a second, until he notices that lopsided little grin on his brother’s face. 

“Because I heard it was…” Shiro takes an exaggerated pause here, tapping his fist against the bridge of his nose to pantomime a punch. “…smashing.”

Keith stares flatly with his one good eye as Shiro repeats the gesture, looking expectant, like his humor is impeccable and Keith is just being oblivious. 

“Can’t cut the dad jokes for five seconds, can you?” he drawls. “That’s what you get for adopting a kid.”  

“No,” says Shiro, dropping the act in an instant. He waves an arm at Keith’s disheveled appearance. “This is what I get for adopting a kid.”  

As if to prove his point, Keith’s nose decides to leak again, landing with a quiet splat on the linoleum floor. When Keith glances down to look at it, even more spills out onto the front of his shirt. 

Shiro sighs, slow and long-suffering. 

“Sit,” he says, and Keith automatically frowns, bristling at the command before determining he’s too exhausted to argue right now, anyway, so he goes and hoists himself onto the kitchen counter. 

This part feels like a routine, too: the fallout, the adrenaline crash. Guilt always comes after the fact, a delayed reaction, swarming in Keith’s chest like a secondhand smoke while he watches his brother get on his knees and wordlessly scrub all his bad, bloody impulses off the floor.  

An apology buzzes around Keith’s brain, but this time, just like every other time, it turns to dust before it ever makes it to his mouth. He’s trying to figure out how to say sorry without saying he wouldn’t do it again—because he would, in a heartbeat.

He will not apologize for the kind of boy he is. The kind of boy this ruthless world forced him to become.  

“Adam texted me right before you got in,” Shiro goes on, standing now, removing a first aid kit from the junk drawer next to the sink. “Said I should be prepared.”  

Keith scoffs out loud, annoyed, but not entirely surprised. “Traitor.” 

“Actually, you should be thanking him,” says Shiro. “Not many people would be willing to drive out of their way at this hour.” 

“Yeah,” Keith mutters dryly, “Adam the saint.” The eye roll is implied. “You know he only did it ‘cause I’m your brother, right? Like, if he gets on my good side, then maybe you’ll finally get your head out of your ass and ask him on a date or whatever.”  

Shiro startles so bad he nearly fumbles the kit right out of his hand. Watching him flush and fluster over even the slightest mention of his perpetual will-they-won’t-they with a certain fellow school teacher will never not be hilarious, Keith thinks, as his brother scrambles to compose himself. 

“Wh—wh-ho-ho—wait, what. No. That’s…that’s not even—” Shiro starts, then abruptly freezes, a tentative little hitch tugging at his brow. “—I-I mean, why? Did he say something to you about…?”          

Keith just smirks at him. He knows it’s insufferable. 

“Nevermind.” Shiro shakes his head as if to recalibrate it. “Just—he’s just a friend, Keith, I’ve told you a million times,” he says, which isn’t a lie, but the faint hint of red still lighting up his cheeks makes it seem like one. His focus snaps back to Keith, almost accusingly. “Besides, how would you know? You just suffered a head injury. You could be severely concussed.”     

“Right, yeah, I’ve been severely concussed for the past three straight years, watching you two dance around each other like you’re—”

“Aaand that’s enough of that,” Shiro blurts at once, crowding into Keith’s personal space, only to snatch the corn away and replace it with the cold, stinging press of a disinfectant wipe. 

Keith jerks back, hissing, “Ow!” 

“Uh-huh,” replies Shiro, undeterred.

“I said ow!” 

“Well, it wouldn’t be so ow if you’d just hold still.” 

He takes Keith’s chin between two fingers, not unkindly, but firm enough to stop the squirming. Up close like this, Keith can make out his brother’s expression in stark detail, every crease and wrinkle that digs into his brow. While Adam tends to wear his judgement boldly on his shirtsleeve, Shiro has always kept his hidden in the fine lines of his face. Keith closes his eyes, inhales loudly through his nose, and endures it. 

“So,” Shiro says after a while, still rubbing at Keith’s wounds, “are you going to tell me what happened?” 

“Miscalculated a right hook. It was a fluke. Won’t happen again.”

“Keith,” says Shiro, slower, sterner. “Why were there right hooks being thrown in the first place?”  

Warily, Keith cracks one eye open. The guilt from earlier gives a nudge, a warning, pushing insistently at the space between his ribs, but Shiro’s gaze is gentler now. It’s a sort of familiar comfort that’s easy to fall into.       

“Some jackass at school said some stuff, and I…” he admits in a rough, rumbling voice, “…I thought if I bashed his mouth in then nothing stupid would ever come out of it again.”  

“Did he call you a name?” Shiro asks, quiet and careful, like maybe he already knows the answer.  

Keith grits his teeth, then nods. 

“A bad one?”    

A pause. Another nod.

Shiro presses his lips together, setting the wipe aside with utmost seriousness. “Look, Keith, I’m not saying that little punk didn’t deserve it,” and he keeps his hold on the boy’s chin, tilting it higher, so there’s no choice but to meet each other’s eyes, “but you can’t keep getting yourself into trouble like this. There’re only so many strings I can pull at school before the faculty decides to suspend you for good.” 

“Fine, then suspend me!” barks Keith, flinching away from Shiro’s grasp, all defiance. “I don’t even wanna be there, anyway!”  

“Keith,” says Shiro. It’s soft but devastating. “We made a deal. Finish high school, or I’m not signing your application to the flight academy.” 

The urge to yell comes to a sharp, shuddery halt in Keith’s lungs. He knows it’s useless. They’ve been down this road before, perhaps hundreds of times, and it always leads them to the same dead end. 

His eyes have been pinned on the sky since he was ten, fresh out of his third foster home, when Shiro showed up in the clean-cut silhouette of his pilot uniform, collar starched, badges glittering like polished chrome, and Keith felt something burst to life under his skin. 

That feeling follows him, even now. It keeps him up at night, wild with a longing he can’t quite articulate, counting the stars beyond his bedroom window and knowing he’ll never truly rest until he gets a taste of them on his tongue. 

But right here, on this planet, in this middle-of-nowhere town, he’s stuck. 

Grounded. 

Keith swallows around the desperate ache in his gut. “Why can’t I just go now?” he practically whines, words slurred with the way his swollen lip puffs out at the corner.  

“Because,” begins Shiro, “I want the best for you.” When Keith gives him an unimpressed look, he tries once more with vehemence, “Because accidents happen, Keith, and one day you might find yourself unable to fly, and then what’ll you do?”  

Reflexively, his arm twitches—the prosthetic one, that is. Its metallic sheen catches Keith’s eye in the dim light, smooth and unnatural against the jagged strips of scar tissue around Shiro’s shoulder. Keith doesn’t have the heart, or the guts, to challenge him. 

“I dunno,” he mumbles, shrugging miserably. “Be a teacher? Worked out for you.”  

“Yeah, except you’d make a terrible teacher,” says Shiro. He offers a smile, small and rueful. “I pity the young mind that gets molded by you, mister right hook.”

He reaches out and ruffles Keith’s shaggy hair, which is annoying because it makes Keith feel like a little kid again, but it manages to break some of the tension, too, so he lets it happen. A laugh slips out of him as he swats ineffectually at his brother’s hand. 

“‘Kay, so,” he says with a smirk, like he’s daring Shiro to do his worst, “what’s my punishment gonna be this time?” 

“Well, actually, I was thinking you could stop by the auditorium after class,” Shiro tells him. “We could really use an extra hand with some set pieces for the fall play.” 

An intense rush of horror sweeps through Keith. That is, in fact, Shiro’s worst.  

“Shiro,” croaks Keith. 

His brother perks up innocently. “Hm?” 

“The drama club? Seriously?” Keith splutters for a moment, nearly going dumb with outrage. “Just—just—just put me back in detention like a normal person!”  

“Oh, so you can punch another kid in the face like you did today? No, not happening,” says Shiro, packing up the first aid kit and tucking it back in the drawer. “I need you where I can keep a close eye on you, and I already promised Adam I’d supervise the first round of auditions tomorrow.” He throws a bright, sparkly grin over his shoulder at Keith. “We’re doing Romeo & Juliet.”  

“Wow, so original,” Keith mutters, perfectly deadpan, as he slides off the countertop. “Also I don’t care.” 

“3pm sharp,” Shiro calls. Keith, who’s already made it out of the kitchen, pauses on the staircase landing to flash his brother an unenthusiastic thumbs-up, then continues stomping up to his room. “I mean it, Keith, don’t be late.” 

[miryum]

two-bit x reader soulmates?

I chose this prompt: Your soulmate’s name is written on your body. This will be she/her pronouns (Sorry.) Hope that okay and hope you enjoy! (Sorry that it’s out so late)

The gang was all crammed into a tiny booth at Jay’s. However tiny the space, their laughter made up for it. Soda and Steve were pushing each other around (getting reprimanded by Darry), Pony and Johnny were sharing some fries (Johnny inhaling as much food as possible), Dally was attempting to smoke (but after you coughed and hit him upside the head, he stopped), and Two-Bit was being the life of the party and adding his two-cents into everything. (Heh. Get it? Two-Bit, two-cents?)

It was a booth shaped in a ‘U’. Steve, Soda, and Pony were on one of the long sides. Johnny was sitting next to Pony in the curve of the ‘U’ and on the other side of Johnny was Darry. Dally, you, and Two-Bit were squished into the other side of the ‘U’. 

Just then a waitress came over, “Can I get you boys anything else?” She asked sweetly, completely ignoring you. You huffed and propped your head on your hand. This always happened when you went out with the boys. The girls always wanted their attention- and you didn’t blame them! You were friends with a bunch of really hot guys. But it got old quick. 

“Sure.” Two-Bit leaned forward and smirked, “You could get me a piece of you.” 

“Keith!” Darry hissed then looked back up at the waitress, “Sorry about him. We’re fine for now.” 

The waitress giggled and walked away. The rest of the gang carried on, oblivious to your obvious startlement. 

“Keith?” You whispered, greatly aware of your wrist tingling. 

“Yeah.” Two-Bit said, snapping you out of your daze, “It’s my birth name. But everyone just calls me Two-Bit.” 

You peeked down at your wrist and pushed up the sleeve of your shirt. There it was, clear as day. 

The name Keith splattered on your wrist. 

You had had it ever since your 15th birthday, when you woke up and the name of your soulmate was on your wrist. You had been ecstatic, wandering around town, hoping to bump into a guy named Keith. 

You hadn’t known that you were friends with him your entire life. 

Everyone had called him “Two-Bit”. You knew that wasn’t his real name, but you never thought to ask. 

“You okay?” Two-Bit- or Keith- asked you in a low whisper. He wasn’t his usual cheery self. He had a look of concern on his face- but it seemed more wary, like you might say something he wouldn’t like. Like he was preparing for something. 

“Um, yeah.” You took a breath and then angled yourself more into him, closing off the gang and any prying eyes, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything.” He said immediately.

“What happened on your 15th birthday?” 

“What do you mean?” Two-Bit asked hesitantly. 

You shrugged, “Did you get anything… relating to your soulmate?” 

Two-Bit looked at you with guilt written on his face, “You know?” 

“Could you show me?” 

Two-Bit nodded and took off his leather jacket that he wore everywhere. There, on his shoulder, clear as day, in bold letters it said, Y/n.

Your eyes grew wide and you felt a warmth spread from your chest to every single space in your body. A small smile came to your lips as you saw your name tattooed on Two-Bit’s shoulder. Your soulmates’ shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked softly. 

Two-Bit shrugged, hurriedly putting on his jacket again, “You were so excited on your birthday, I didn’t want to ruin it.” 

“Why would you ruin it?” 

“‘Cause.” He said, “I wasn’t sure that I was the soulmate that you were imagining.” 

You smiled, “You idiot. You’re my soulmate. I would be happy either way. And plus, I know you! You’re my friend! This makes everything so much easier!” 

Before Two-Bit could say anything, you wrapped him in a tight hug, placing a small kiss on his cheek. He returned the hug, saying, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” 

“That’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry,” A different voice broke you from your hug, “What just happened?” You looked over to the rest of the gang. They all looked apprehensive and bewildered. 

“I’ll tell y’all later.” Two-Bit said, “For now, drinks are on me!” The gang brushed it off, not realizing that the drinks were for you and Two-Bit, celebrating that you were finally together.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-Seven

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: working a full time job + part time job tutoring english + applying for scholarships + still having free time left is a lot harder than i thought it would be. which is my way of saying this chapter should've been done a week ago lol.

i call this my goodbye chapter b/c goodbyes are made.

***

As Nesta brings the last of her things into the cabin, Azriel takes the last of his stuff out.

Standing beside Cassian, Nesta watches Azriel shut the trunk over the final box of his belongings. With all the extra stuff he stole from the cabin, it almost seemed like everything wouldn’t fit into his tiny car, but here he is. Ready to go.

He dusts off his leather jacket and approaches her and Cassian. “This is goodbye,” he says, coming to a stop before them.

Nesta once thought this would be the happiest day of her life, second to her wedding day. She should have predicted that her rightful joy would be extinguished by sentimentality.

Cassian claps Azriel on the shoulder, the two brothers having already said their goodbyes in private. Still, Nesta can see a little sorrow in Cassian’s eyes, as if he also got too used to having Az around all the time.

Azriel, the dick, reveals nothing through his eyes. Neither does Nesta.

The two of them look at each other awkwardly for a moment, and then he comes in to hug her. Nesta hugs him back, arms crossing around his broad back, but it has the same stiffness as two Barbie dolls being made to kiss each other.

When Azriel tries to pull away, Nesta clutches him to her with surprising strength. “I know about the picture,” she says lowly in his ear.

“Too late to take it back now.” She might feel him smile on top of her hair.

Nesta lets go of Azriel swiftly, having had enough physical contact with him to last a year. “Drive safe, so Elain can find you in one piece,” she orders.

Azriel grimaces at that, reminded of what waits for him in Velaris. Whatever Elain decides to give him, it’ll probably be deserved.

“I’ll get going then.” Az starts backing away, and Nesta hears Cassian sniffle. She looks toward her boyfriend in concern, but he circles his huge arms around her shoulders and pulls her back to his chest before she can catch him getting teary-eyed.

They watch Azriel get in his car and drive away. Nesta waves until the car disappears fully into the thickness of the surrounding trees, waves until her arms are too tired to keep going.

Once Az is gone, she turns in Cassian’s embrace and jumps up into his arms. Her legs hook around his hips and his hands fit themselves under her thighs. She smiles and tells him, “Let’s go home.”

Ten minutes later, they find themselves sitting in the silence of the kitchen. It’s the quiet of a house adjusting to a missing person, and Azriel’s absence is tangible.

Cassian is the first to break the silence. “Do you think he’s past city limits by now?” he asks as he stirs his coffee.

“No.” Nesta turns the page of her book, focused on reading. “Not if he stopped by Gwyn’s before leaving.”

She hears Cassian stop stirring. “What does that mean?” he says.

Nesta looks up at him and shrugs. “It means he probably wants to say goodbye to her.”

***

“One charge of assault, one for battery, and one huge lawsuit against my company,” Rhys reads aloud from the file in front of him.

Cassian waves a hand in dismissal. “Just make it go away like you always do.”

Rhysand’s near-violet eyes narrow with barely restrained rage. “Cassian. You shattered an employee’s hand.”

“Hey, O’Connell.” Cassian strolled up to him early last Monday morning. The underground parking lot was near empty at this hour, since most workers wouldn’t come in until nine. “How was the rest of your weekend?”

O’Connell looked up from getting his bag out of his car, clearly surprised to see Cassian willingly make small talk with him. “It was good,” he answered lightly. “You left Velaris early, though.”

“Yeah, about that.” Cassian came to a stop by O’Connell’s car and held out his hand, catching the car door before it could be shut. “I had to take my girlfriend home.”

O’Connell looked confused, but nodded along. “That’s nice. Can you—?” He gestured at the car door, indicating to Cassian to let go.

Cassian didn’t. “What hand did you use?”

“Excuse me?”

“When you touched her,” Cassian clarified. “What hand did you use when you touched her?”

O’Connell’s look of confusion morphed into one of contempt. “What the hell are you talking about, man?”

“Nesta Archeron.” Cassian straightened up, hand tightening over the top of the car door. “Your old college friend.” Realization dawned across O’Connell’s face, but he still hadn’t answered Cassian’s question.

“If you don’t tell me now, I’ll have to take my pick.” Cassian clicked his tongue in disappointment. “You’re left-handed, aren’t you?” He snatched up O’Connell’s left hand, and in a flash O’Connell was pressed up against the car, his hand pinned to the doorframe.

“Hey, wait, what are you—” O’Connell protested.

The sound of a car door slamming shut on a hand was louder than Cassian expected. It was the crunch of bones and muscle followed by immediate screaming.

“It could have been worse,” Cassian said flatly over O’Connell’s cries of pain. “It could have been your tongue, since you like talking shit so much.”

Cassian blinks out of the memory. “So what if I did?” he shrugs in response to Rhys.

“You are a member of my inner circle,” Rhysand fumes. “Keith O’Connell is a respected figure in our industry and a higher up from Vanserra and Co., and the head of our Milan outpost, but you saw fit to take out justice on him without asking me first.”

“You had nothing to do with it.”

“That is not up to you!” Rhysand jabs a finger at Cassian. “What will our shareholders think when they hear about this? What will the board members say?”

Cassian is starting to get irritated now. “They won’t find out, because you won’t tell them,” he says firmly. “We both know you’ve covered up worse things to fit your agenda, but it’s a problem if I don’t want a creepy bastard working under my jurisdiction?”

Having learned most of his business tricks from his father, Rhys is no perfectly clean CEO himself. He would’ve done far worse to O’Connell if it was Feyre in Nesta’s place, and he would have ended it all with a speech about how abusers and their sympathizers have no place at Night Court Inc.

The thought only inflames Cassian more; maybe he’s still riding off the anger of O’Connell making Nesta cry.

Tempering his feelings, he tells Rhys, “When you’re done shutting O’Connell up,” because Rhys would do it no matter how angry he pretended to be, “make sure Nesta never finds out about this.”

Rhys sits back in his chair, a bitter smirk pulling at his mouth. “Afraid she’ll be horrified of what a brute her sweet boyfriend is?”

Cassian nearly snorts at the image of Nesta recoiling at a broken hand. She’d probably call him weak for not shoving O’Connell into a ravine. “No,” he answers tiredly. “It’s not violence that offends her, but if she finds out it was in her name… I don’t want to put that on her shoulders.” Which is a shame, because in any other situation Nesta would love to hear about the unfortunate circumstances that led to O’Connell quitting his job.

Rhys lets loose a long sigh. “Damn, you both scare me.” After a few moments, he asks, “Now what are we going to do about Milan?”

***

Life after moving in with Cassian passes by quickly, and before Nesta knows it, she’s completed her second year of law school.

As for the boys who were some of her first friends and drinking companions, back when Nesta barely knew the definition of a friend—today they complete their final year of law school.

Nesta fans herself with the pamphlet she was handed at the beginning of the graduation ceremony, trying to stop the harsh morning sun from melting the makeup off her face. The audience is packed like sardines onto one huge field, and the announcer on stage hasn’t even reached the last names that start with D. Eris, Justinian, and Isaac are all near the bottom of the alphabet.

“Do we really need to be here today?” Nesta murmurs to Emerie, squirming in her metal foldout chair.

Sitting at her right, Emerie throws her a scolding look. “Don’t be like that. We’re never going to see these guys again.”

Nesta sincerely doubts that, considering how none of the guys are moving more than a few hours away. But her uterus is raising hell right now, even though her new meds have put a stop to her periods. Paired with the ache in her back from these terrible chairs, she’s about to call it quits and go straight home.

“Nesta!”

She whips her head to the left, finding Elain striding through the row of chairs to reach the empty seat beside her.

Like watching the Red Sea part, everyone in the row pulls their feet back and makes themselves as small as possible so Elain can have a clear walkway.

Nesta moves the purse she used to save Elain’s seat aside, and Elain drops her butt onto the little foldout chair like it’s a throne.

“A little warm for an outdoor ceremony, don’t you think?” Elain fans her face.

“You didn’t have to come all the way here, you know,” Nesta says.

“Eris made me. I haven’t talked to him since I broke up with his brother, but I think he wants to look like he has a lot of friends here.”

“Yeah, that checks out,” Emerie mutters from Nesta’s other side.

Elain seems to take notice of Emerie for the first time, and her Southern charm turns on like a switch. “Oh my, I don’t think we’ve met.”

Elain introduces herself and Emerie does the same, smiling and nodding politely, and Nesta can’t even decide if she likes this crossover because she’s too busy massaging her aching abdomen.

A string of “Excuse me, sorry!”s go up in the row they’re sitting in, and a moment later a familiar face plops down on the chair to Emerie’s right.

Gwyn leans over Emerie and holds a bottle of Advil out to Nesta. “This is all I could find in my car, babe.”

Nesta releases a sigh of relief and snatches the bottle. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

Elain’s gaze moves to the medicine, then to Gwyn. “You must be Gwyn.” She offers a smile. “I’m Nesta’s sister, Elain.”

Gwyn’s eyes widen imperceptibly, and Nesta realizes she should have warned Gwyn that Elain would be here.

Going off how Gwyn’s been acting the last few weeks, Nesta can only assume that she influenced Azriel’s final decision to move away, whether directly or indirectly. Nesta doesn’t even know much about what happened between the two of them during their weird sex deal, considering that she and Gwyn promised to never discuss such horrible things with each other.

All Nesta knows is that Azriel is Gwyn’s closest male friend, and close friends that have also slept together probably don’t want to bump into each other’s exes without warning.

“Are you here to see Eris graduate, too?” Elain asks.

Gwyn looks like a deer caught in headlights. “Who? Oh—no, I’m just here so we can drive to brunch together after.” Her voice gets quieter with each word, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nice to meet you,” she adds in a murmur, her face a furious shade of red. She quickly looks forward at the stage as if the graduation ceremony is the most fascinating thing ever.

Elain doesn’t note the odd behavior, instead refocusing on the Advil pills that Nesta pops into her mouth and swallows dry. “Are you still hurting?” Elain says, furrowing her thin brows. “I thought you got that problem fixed.”

Nesta tries not to snort as she accepts the bottle of water that Emerie wordlessly passes her. “You can’t ‘fix’ endometriosis, Elain. That’s not how it works.”

“Oh. Well how was I supposed to know that?”

Nesta slides unamused hooded eyes to her sister. Before she can retort anything, Emerie elbows her hard. “Look, it’s Isaac!”

She refocuses on the ceremony, cheering and clapping half-heartedly as Isaac takes the stage. It’s not that she doesn’t care about her study buddies; it’s just that she feels like shit right now.

Justinian follows suit a few minutes later, grinning and waving when he spies Emerie cheering for him. Gwyn is distracted on her phone through all of it.

The Advil has finally started to kick in when Nesta murmurs to Elain, “How is Azriel adjusting to being back in the city?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Elain answers innocently. “I haven’t seen much of him since he returned.”

“Just spill it,” Nesta says. “Azriel wouldn’t tell me anything, so I’m assuming he’s humiliated about it.”

Elain sighs, delicately pushing her hair behind her shoulder. “He came to me to talk. I heard him out, and then we went back to his apartment for coffee, and then I took my fabric scissors and cut out the crotch from all his pants.”

Nesta raises a brow. “All of them?”

“All of them.”

Nesta shrugs, turning back to face the stage. “It’s good enough. I could have done worse.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not me, isn’t it?” Elain snips.

Nesta won’t say it, but she supposes she is a little happy for Elain. In fact, she thinks this might be the first time Elain has stood up for herself instead of letting Nesta handle it.

After the ceremony is over, Emerie goes off to congratulate Isaac and Justinian. Gwyn follows so she can get away from Elain, and Nesta, being sweaty and overstimulated and more than ready to leave, settles for waving her arms and grinning at the boys from across the field.

She’s about to say goodbye to Elain and make a beeline for the parking lot when she spots a head of shining red hair approaching her. No—make that two heads.

Eris looked unbearably snooty as he received his degree, likely smug with the fact that he has a comfortable job at a family friend’s corporate law firm lined up for him after he passes the Bar. Nesta admits that she’s a little disappointed in him: after all his talk of working hard and being the smartest person in the room, he ended up riding his father’s coattails to a disgustingly high salary. But maybe that is hard work for him, considering that there was such a ruckus in the Vanserra family when he chose to go into law instead of business.

As for Lucien… Well, Nesta really has no idea what the kid does, but she knows he looks good, better than the last time she saw him. An early summer tan makes him glow in comparison to his brother, while lean forearms are revealed under the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt. He looks comfortable in a way he wasn’t at Thanksgiving all those months ago.

Even with his ex standing just a few feet away.

“Elain,” Lucien greets her with a foxlike smile.

Elain rolls her eyes in response and turns to Eris. “Congratulations on graduating, hun. Now that we’re even, kindly delete my number from your phone and never call me again.”

Even? Nesta raises a brow, wondering what that could possibly mean.

“I take it this is goodbye?” Eris tells her.

“I’m already leaving,” Elain says sweetly. She blows a kiss at Eris, then Nesta. “Feel better soon,” she chirps at her, before striding away in her pastel pink heels.

Very jealous of Elain getting to escape before she can, Nesta calls after her, “Hot date to catch?” She’s wearing the signature perfume she usually does when meeting with a man.

Elain tosses over her shoulder, “Something like that.” Her purse swings as she disappears around a corner to the parking lot.

Nesta watches her go with envy, and when she turns back she finds Eris already looking at her. Meanwhile, Lucien still has his eyes glued to the spot where Elain disappeared.

“You feel sick?” Eris asks her.

“No thank you, I have a boyfriend,” Nesta replies on instinct.

Eris scoffs once in indignation, then twice. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he says with disbelief. “I can care about my friends, you know.”

“You want her,” Lucien mutters.

Nesta’s eyes snap to Lucien, who seems to be acknowledging her presence for the first time today. “And what do you want?” She tilts her head at him, intrigued at having a new playmate. He’s less predictable than Eris, at the very least.

Lucien looks at her and offers a sheepish smile. “Nothing you can give me.”

Eris rolls his eyes at the both of them, clearly regretting bringing his brother along with him. “I’m already bored of this conversation,” he laments. “I’m out; the D.A. is here and I want to say hi. Find me when you’re done, punk.” Eris bonks Lucien on the head with his rolled up diploma and starts walking away, only pausing to extend a mocking bow to Nesta. “We’re not over yet, Archeron,” he calls as he leaves.

Now it’s Nesta’s and Lucien’s turn to roll their eyes.

With only the two of them left, Nesta feels obliged to ask awkwardly, “So… how’ve you been?”

Lucien’s gaze slides to her. “I didn’t know you were Elain’s sister,” he says.

She huffs a laugh. “I didn’t know you were her ex at first, either. Does it matter?”

Lucien’s mouth turns down in thought, but he doesn’t answer her question. “I’m doing good,” he says in response to her former question instead. “I’ve been living the nomad life, traveling around with friends, roadtripping in a van.”

But would you come home for Elain? Nesta can’t help but wonder.

She didn’t know Lucien had dated Elain until after her first meeting with him, but even then it had been something of a throwaway detail. Elain dates lots of guys, and falls in love with even more of them. She seemed to barely remember Lucien’s name when Nesta first brought it up in front of her.

But for some inexplicable reason, Nesta genuinely likes Lucien. A part of her recognizes something similar in a part of him, and it makes her sad to imagine him being stuck on a girl who won’t think about him twice.

“Take my advice,” Nesta tells him bluntly, “and move on if you haven’t yet. Staring after Elain when she already broke up with you will get you nowhere.” Elain isn’t the type to ever look back, and she never falls for the same man twice.

Lucien just looks at Nesta with a blank face. “I broke up with her,” he says.

Nesta’s mouth falls open.

“And,” he adds, “I was staring at her ass.” He starts walking backwards to his brother, giving Nesta an innocent grin as he leaves. “It was nice meeting again. See you in another six months.”

Nesta is dumbfounded watching him go, not knowing what to do with this new knowledge. As far as she knows, no one has ever broken up with Elain except for Azriel—and that ended in Az losing all of his pants.

It only occurs to Nesta that she shouldn’t have let Lucien get away with that ass comment when Emerie and Gwyn suddenly appear at her side, each of them interlocking an arm with hers. “You feeling better?” Emerie inquires cheerfully. “Ready to go?”

Nesta nods slowly, forcefully putting Lucien Vanserra and his too-sly demeanor out of her mind. He isn’t her problem right now. Summer is already here with a vengeance, and she’ll only have so much free time with the people she loves most. So she chooses to focus only on them.

Tugging her friends closer and squeezing their arms, Nesta asks, “Where are we eating?”

***

a/n: this needs sooo much more editing lol i could have done a lot more with this chapter if i wasn’t constantly tired and pressed for free time. sorry y’all :/

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes@readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99 @mystic-bibliophile

[bluedemon1995]

Day 16 Road trip

She loves her brother but he can be annoying…which is why she left before he could stop her. They had planned this road trip for months, but then his job changed his vacation time and he thought she would just cancel the whole trip. Argument after argument ensued with no resolution. Each were sure they were right in typical Holt fashion. Yet, she could not change her vacation and she just didn’t understand why she couldn’t do the trip on her own. She had her Ph.d for goodness sake, she could take a two week trip by herself.

Which is why when she found herself in this predicament, she just could not bring herself to call him. This was just embarrassing. She tried calling Hunk, Allura, hell she even called Lance. All with no response. She sat in the car looking at her phone. Did she dare call Shiro. He was her brother’s boyfriend but he was really nice. Maybe he could help her and …no. Not gonna happen. Ugghhhh.

She thought absently of Keith. But, she didn’t really know him well enough to ask this kind of favor. Not to mention, she felt all tongue tied around him. He was just, too good looking for her to feel completely at ease around. Shaking her head, she refocused, well, she put a call into triple A so she’d just have to wait.

A few hours later, she moved beyond bored and annoyed into well and truly pissed. It was now dark and she was cold. She thought about just building a fire on the side of the road but she didn’t really want to walk through the forest in the dark. She kept turning the car on and off to keep it warm but she was dangerously low on gas by now. Again she wished she knew that the damn car didn’t have a spare tire. She wrongly assumed that every car had one!! Fuck.

Suddenly, the roar of a motorcycle sliced through the night She abruptly sat up. Crap. She looked like easy pickings for a serial killer. She frantically rummaged through her nap sack for her mace. Held tightly in her hand she saw the light from the bike in her review mirror and tried to sit up and look bigger.

Silence. She watched the light turn off and could vaguely see a silhouette approach on her driver side. Heart beat racing she debated staying in the car versus getting out. Either way she felt she was at a disadvantage. If she got out she could run, but honestly she wasn’t fast. If she stayed in, she could see him breaking the glass of her compact car. Damn. If she died, Matt would totally be proven right.

Tap, tap. Jumping slightly she looked up…to see KEITH?!?! She let out a tiny squeal and then frantically opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

Keith shook his head, “Some road trip, you got like four hours away before getting stuck with a flat?”

Pidge could feel her face getting hot, “Okay well, I went to a few museums and got a little delayed. Um, how did you know I was here?”

“Hunk saw you called but you didn’t pickup. Then he went into detective mode and tracked you. You hadn’t moved. So he called Lance, who got a garbled message about you having a flat. Luckily you shared your trip route with Shiro when you thought he was going. So I snuck in his room and sent it to myself.”

Pidge was still trying to take in the man in front of her. Wind blown hair, goggles pulled up, black shirt and leather jacket, dark jeans and boots. He was too hot. She blinked. “Okay, but why are YOU here?”

He looked down, rubbing his neck, “Yeah well, maybe I was the only one of us who had any vacation time to use. I rarely use it, so, um, I took a couple of weeks and decided to see if, um, you needed help. If not, it’s no big I could just ride it out, you know follow your trip, it’s not like I’m the best at planning anyways.”

Pidge felt her heart race again but this time, it wasn’t from fear. “So um, wanna go on a road trip. With me?”

Keith’s face breaks into a slow grin. “Yeah, hop on my bike and let’s get your car situated. We could either rent a trailer for the bike or I could store it for a bit.”

Pidge starts to turn, then stops. With her back to him, she queries, “Um, Matt didn’t ask you to do this di-“ when her voice abruptly dies off.

Keith suddenly held the door closed, and his back was to her front. With her body between Keith’s and the car door she freezes. He lowers his head and rasps out, “God Holt how can someone so smart be so dumb. Matt does not know. Shiro doesn’t even know. But somehow Lance figured out I have had a thing for you since high school and I’m done waiting for the right time. I’m taking my shot.”

[actress4him]

Black, Yellow, Blue, Green, Orange, Pink

...Red

Part 7. Please mind the tags.

9/23/23 Added another piece of art by @probablyhuntersmom !

First | Previous | Next

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Warnings: death mention, mild blood, dehumanization, restraints, muzzle, conditioning, torture, verbal abuse, hair pulling, knife to throat, slight suicide ideation, guns

.

.

They must have some luck left, because Shiro and Pidge find the intruders right about the same time that Keith does. Shiro hears talking from the adjoining hallway and motions at Pidge to stay back, peering carefully around the corner.

“You have nerve, coming to us like this after having failed your mission. You should not be alive. Where is the body to accompany the blood in the hangar?”

There’s no reply, but Shiro can see Keith now, looking incredibly small as he stands in front of four aliens with his head down and his hands gripped in fists by his sides. They tower over him, grey skin wrinkled like an elephant’s, large eyes stern upon him. From this distance, he can’t see any discernible difference between any of them.

“Down.”

Keith’s knees hit the floor an instant later, no hesitation. Without being told, he offers his wrists, and the alien to his left snaps a pair of manacles around them. A tether - a leash - drapes from them to the alien’s fist when he drops his hands back down.

The next identical alien steps forward, and Keith’s mouth opens - again, without prompting. A metal piece slides in, and he closes his jaw awkwardly over it as the attached leather is buckled firmly in place around his head.

A muzzle.

They’ve muzzled and leashed him, like a dog, and Shiro’s blood is boiling.

Besides that, he’s so, utterly bewildered. How in the world did Keith, the most stubborn, willful, fiery person he knows, get to be this, this person who could be restrained without a fight, who could be ordered to shoot his friends?

He knew how it could happen. He has vague memories of being on his way to this kind of compliance, himself. But that was after being a prisoner of the Empire for a year.

Keith had been perfectly fine a little over a week ago, when they spoke to him and Kolivan over video. Hadn’t he?

Suddenly a high-pitched keen, muffled but still plenty audible, cuts through the air, and Keith folds in on himself, spasming a few times before falling onto his side and curling into a tiny ball. Even then he continues to shake. Shiro has to hold himself back from barging out into the open right then. Pidge, who has been watching from a crouched position underneath him, claps a hand over her mouth to try to stifle her own cry.

Apparently it’s not enough. Four heads whip up to face their hiding spot, and a split second later one of the aliens is upon them. Shiro stumbles backwards, surprised by the speed, and activates his arm. Pidge leaps to her feet, too, bayard glowing green.

“You are even more of a failure than we imagined,” they hiss after taking in the two Paladins with a stoic expression.

Shiro narrows his eyes. “Let him go, now.”

The grey alien simply studies him for another moment before zipping back to the group in the blink of an eye. They slam their foot into Keith’s spine. “Did you even manage to kill one?” He’s kicked again, and again, other aliens joining in. “You have failed. You are truly worthless.”

Shiro and Pidge rush out into the other hallway. “Stop it!” she cries. “Stop hurting him!”

Immediately the one that holds Keith’s tether yanks him up, producing a knife from somewhere unseen and pressing the point of it into his neck with one hand while the other three hands hold him by the waist and hair. His eyes are squeezed shut, the only part of his face visible above the black leather mask.

“You will not attack us,” they nearly purr.

“Not as long as we have your precious friend,” another finishes.

————————————

Pain is coming again, he knows it is. The question is only from what source. His body still aches from the device being activated and from the kicks, and now there’s a sharp prick in the soft skin of his neck.

He deserves to die, he knows he does. He failed his mission. A part of him almost wishes that he could die, and be done with all of this pain. But if he knows anything about those that own him, he knows that they’ll want to draw it out, make it as much of a punishment as possible. It won’t be a quick death.

They’re arguing with the two Paladins who have shown up, then suddenly something is being shoved into his manacled hands. A blaster. He knows the feel of one well by now. The one holding him shakes him roughly by the hair, and he whimpers involuntarily, prying his eyes open.

“You may have one more chance. Kill these two now, and your previous failure will be forgotten. Prove to us that we have not wasted the last three decaphoebs training you.”

“Wh-...three decaphoebs?” That’s Black speaking. “It’s not possible that you’ve been training him for that long. We weren’t even in space three decaphoebs ago.”

The one to his left gives a warbling sound that mimics laughter. “Perhaps you were not.”

“We have chosen the location for our base wisely,” says another. “In a particular pocket of space just outside of the Quantum Abyss. Time passes differently there.”

Green makes a choking noise. “So you’re saying that while it’s only been a few days for us, he’s been with you for…?”

“Enough chatter!” He’s shaken again. “You were given an order, weapon. Will you obey, or not?”

He knows he doesn’t have time to think, to choose. If he doesn’t act immediately, they’ll see it as disobedience. He’ll be punished, severely.

But he also knows he can’t do it. He doesn’t want to kill them. He’d much rather die himself.

They sneer in his ear. “You have chosen the way of pain.”

[childoftheriver]

The boys

[davidpastrsnack]

three times brady stayed quiet, one time he didn’t - brady tkachuk

a/n: i have such a soft spot for brady and this is the result. some really soft friends to lovers, but i also left the possibility for a smuttier part 2 if you guys are interested. i hope you enjoy (especially my fellow brady girls) and please let me know what you think!

word count: 5618

one 

After just barely getting through your final assignments of the last grueling week of school, it was finally time for the best part of the year: summer with the Tkachuks. Your dad grew up with Keith outside of Boston, the two maintaining a close relationship despite the distance that kept them apart for so long. For as long as you could remember, you and your siblings had spent the majority of the summer months with them, either on the lakes of Missouri or the oceans of Cape Cod. 

The busy hum of voices and speakers was all you heard, your tired body dragging through the airport, iced coffee in hand hoping it would give you even just another ounce of energy. You finally reached your gate, sitting down on the cool leather seat to wait for your boarding call. 

Your siblings were already in St. Louis, having finished school before you, and you were the last one to arrive before the commencing weekend of the summer. You knew you were in for a wild ride if the Snapchat stories of your older brother and Matthew getting up to no good were any indication.  

Just as you adjusted your headphones and felt your eyelids flutter shut, your phone buzzed, pulling you from your daze. 

Brady: I got held up here for another day, but should be there tomorrow

Brady: Don’t miss me too much 

You rolled your eyes at the screen, laughing as you saw his words and your brain automatically translated them into his voice. You considered all of the Tkachuks to be like family,  but Brady was different, he always had been. Since day one he was constantly looking out for you, even more so than Matthew and your brother. He always had an eye on you, that eye becoming more and more threatening to everyone else as he grew into his now 6’4”, 200lbs frame. 

Don’t worry, I’ll have Matthew to keep me company :)

You smiled as you typed out your response, throwing back exactly what he had dished out. You couldn’t deny that your relationship had become more flirtatious over the recent years, but you always assumed it was just the teasing nature of the Tkachuk household. If he was going to chirp you, you were going to chirp right back. But the banter had always flowed seamlessly, both of you knowing the other so well. You weren’t always clear on the motivation behind some of his comments, but it didn’t hurt to have a little fun with him. 

You finally boarded the plane, your flight not taking long before you were stepping out in the thick Missouri air. To say you were exhausted was an understatement, your eyes barely staying open as you searched for the black Audi you knew would be arriving any minutes. Just a few moments later you saw the luxury sedan turn the corner, a brown mop of curls sitting behind the wheel. 

“There she is,” Matthew yelled, pulling you in for a hug after stepping out of the front seat. 

“Hi Matthew,” you hummed, “Thanks for getting me.”

“Of course, Y/N, anything for my future sister-in-law,” he teased, that cocky smirk on full display while he grabbed your suitcase. 

You didn’t even acknowledge his comment, moving right along to get in the car and ask him how his season was. You were far from a stranger to his jokes, but you were not in the mood today and he seemed to pick up on it. So he gave it up for the ride, instead catching up on how you were doing otherwise since he had last seen you. All jokes aside, Matthew truly cared for you like family, especially considering he was dead serious about you eventually being his sister-in-law. 

After stopping for food on the way, you finally arrived at the house, Matthew pulling into the lit driveway as you took off your seatbelt. Chantal was waiting by the front door, immediately giving you a tight hug when you walked in. She was basically your second mother, always taking care of you as if you were one of her own. 

“Y/N! How are you, sweetie?” she exclaimed, urging you to follow her into the kitchen. 

“I’m good,” you responded while sitting down at the counter next to Matthew. 

“She’s exhausted mom,” Matthew deadpanned before you could continue. 

You rolled your eyes at his words, a smile growing on your lips as you quickly fell back into the comfort of this home. 

“I’m okay, really,” you assured Chantal. 

“Oh honey, come on,” she grabbed your backpack and gestured for you to follow her upstairs. “All of the guestrooms are full right now with Matthew’s friends but they’re leaving tonight. Just go ahead into Brady’s room, I’m sure he told you he’s still in Ottawa until tomorrow.”

You nodded, “Yeah, he did.”

She led you down the hall, as if you didn’t know exactly where you were going, and opened the door to his room. The same hockey memorabilia was scattered across the walls and the closet was slightly open, the clothes he left here during the season poking out. 

“Just relax in here, sweetie. The sheets are clean and there are towels in the bathroom. I’ll check in with you in a little bit, okay?”

“Thank you so much,” you smiled, pulling her in for another hug before she headed back downstairs.  

No matter how much time you had spent in this room, something about being in there without Brady felt wrong. But the exhaustion of the travel day and the past week didn’t let you think about it too much, instead telling you to go take a shower and change into fresh clothes. You didn’t mean for it to happen, but the second you laid across the bed you were down for the count. 

-----

When Brady opened his door after arriving home the next morning, his jaw nearly hit the floor. Chantal told him that you were in there, but there was no preparing himself for the sight in front of him. You were still fast asleep, but the covers were mostly thrown off your body. He smiled to himself as he remembered that you always get too hot while you sleep. The oversized t-shirt you were wearing was bunched at your waist, your tiny sleep shorts riding up your hips giving him the perfect view of your ass. Your head was nuzzled into his pillow, your hands resting in front of you as if you should be holding someone and your lips pouted as you slept. He had seen you asleep countless times before, but something about you being in his bed waiting for him like this was taking his breath away today. He thought about what it would be like if things were different. He could slide under the covers behind you, slip his rough hands around the soft skin of your waist, kiss your collarbone and neck as you giggled in his grasp, moving one of his hands lower and lower until-

“Fuck,” he mumbled, losing grip of his phone as he was distracted by his awe of you, the metal slipping out of his hand and falling against the hardwood floor. He scrambled to grab it without dropping his bags or waking you up. But it was too late, your sleeping frame stirred at the sudden noise, lifting your head to see what it was. 

“Brady?” you questioned, your voice laced with sleep and your eyes squinting as they adjusted to the morning light pouring through the windows. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry I just- mom told me you were in here,” he spoke, afraid it looked like he had just been staring at you, which of course he had been. 

“Don’t be sorry Brades, it’s your room,” you laughed as you sat up, adjusting your shirt when you realized how exposed you were. 

He laughed too, trying to shake off whatever awkwardness had infected him this morning and not let his eyes trail down your frame. 

“Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to come give me a hug?” you grinned. 

Brady shook his head smiling as he made his way towards you, sitting on the edge of the mattress and pulling you in. His body relaxed as you wrapped yourself around him, your touch and scent overwhelming his senses. 

You could feel the tension leaving his shoulders as your hands traced the curls at the base of his neck, “You okay?” you whispered. 

He pulled back at your words, piercing blue eyes meeting yours. “I’m fine,” he paused, wondering if he should come clean about everything right now. But he decided it wasn’t worth freaking you out on day one of the summer, “I just missed you, that’s all.”

A soft smile crept on your lips, hearing him say that he missed you as much as you missed him warming your heart. 

“Come on, I’m hungry,” you said as you grabbed his hand, a playful scoff leaving his mouth as he trailed behind you towards the stairs, the energy between the two of you starting to return to normal. 

two

After everyone had finally arrived and settled in, it was time for the first house party of the season. The mere thought of this moment had given you the motivation to finish your exams, so it went without saying that you could not be more excited. Keith and Chantal were out of town for the weekend, putting Matthew in charge of making sure everyone stayed safe. You were finishing getting ready in one of the guest rooms, which you had almost moved into for the summer after the one night in Brady’s. You went for a simple outfit, a white top with jeans and sneakers before heading downstairs to join the growing crowd. 

You were surrounded by faces as soon as you made your way down, some familiar and some not. Your eyes scanned the room for your friends, knowing your close friend Emily had already arrived. You finally found her standing in one of the corners and you turned to go meet them. 

“Long time no see,” you beamed when you arrived at their circle, the girls jumping to hug you as they saw you for the first time since last August. It was great to catch up with everyone, but you quickly realized that you forgot to get a drink. 

“Em, I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you spoke to which she nodded. 

“I’ll come with,” she urged, reaching for your hand as you both walked towards the kitchen. 

“So you look hot tonight,” she grinned, speaking in your ear so you could hear over the music. “I bet he finally makes his move later.”

“Who?” you challenged, but she didn’t need to say another word for you to know who she was talking about. 

“Y/N, please just save it,” Emily rolled her eyes, “Look, he’s already drooling over you,” she gestured towards where Brady was sitting around a table with Matthew and some of their old friends from hockey. She was right, he was looking right at you, waving when you made eye contact. You gave a small wave back before quickly turning your body away from him to face Emily. 

“He always watches me at parties,” you reasoned. 

“Yeah, because he’s in love with you,” she scoffed, pouring two drinks into red solo cups. 

“Because he’s a good guy, Emily,” you rebutted before taking a far too large sip of whatever she made. 

Meanwhile, across the room, Brady was facing the same kind of comments from his friends. As soon as he saw you cross the room with Emily he couldn’t peel his eyes away. You were practically glowing, your smile wide as the stress from the school year finally seemed to disappear from your mind. 

“Really Tkachuk?” he heard from next to him, his head snapping away from you to look at the voice. 

“What?” he questioned, his challenge laced with attitude. 

“Y/N? Still?” his friend Jack responded. 

Brady just shook his head in annoyance. He didn’t have the energy for this conversation tonight. 

“As long as the sky is blue, Brady will be falling at the feet of Y/N,” Matthew chimed in, a smirk gracing his lips as he hid behind his solo cup. 

Brady maintained his silence, hoping they would get bored and move on, but not so fast. 

“So you aren’t hitting it?”

He thought he was mad before, but nothing compared to the pure anger Brady felt at this comment. It was Nick, a kid he had never liked through all the years they played together in St. Louis. He was fuming, Matthew swore he could see smoke coming out of his ears as he waited for his brother's response, getting ready to step in if necessary. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Nick?” Brady started, turning his body towards him and sitting up straight. “Am I hitting it? You’re talking about my childhood best friend, show some fucking respect.”

Nick looked stunned, his eyes wide as Brady glared at him. “Dude, I-,”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, moving to stand up so he towered over him. “You wanna know why no girl will ever come within ten feet of you? It’s because of shit like this, Nick. You’re a complete asshole and you don’t deserve a thing from any woman,” he scolded. 

By this point, Brady had drawn the attention of many, nearly all of the guests staring at the commotion, including you. 

Your face dropped as you saw him yelling, concern written all over your face as your brows furrowed in his direction. He finally seemed to calm down, his eyes looking defeated as they locked with yours. With one more look at Nick, he shook his head in disgust before walking towards the back of the house, the door slamming shut behind him. 

The room was nearly silent, everyone looking at each other to see if they knew what just happened. 

“Everything’s fine guys,” Matthew urged, the party resuming at his words. Your eyes met his and before you could even make it over to ask what that was he was gesturing towards the door for you to follow Brady. 

You nodded, discarding your drink on the counter and rushing to him. You slowly opened the backdoor, searching for his blond curls. You quickly found him alone on the patio, sitting on the outdoor couch with his head thrown back against the cushion, and his eyes closed. 

“Brady?” you whispered.

His eyes shot open at your voice, “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath. Even though he knew it was impossible, part of him was hoping you didn’t see that. 

You didn’t say anything but rather moved towards him, stepping over his legs so you could sit next to him. He stayed silent, just swinging his arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his frame. You sighed as your head rested against his chest, waiting for him to talk when he was ready. 

After almost ten minutes, Brady finally spoke, “Nick is an asshole,” he muttered. 

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at his words, lifting your head to look at him, but he was still staring straight ahead. He didn’t know if he could keep it together if his eyes met yours. 

“Brady,” you muttered, “What happened?”

“He just said something I didn’t like.”

“Come on, Brades,” you pleaded, hoping he would finally give in and tell you what happened. 

But instead, he shook his head, “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” he snapped, instantly regretting his reaction when he felt your body flinch at his tone. He sighed, letting out a breath it felt like he had been holding for hours, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just-”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. You had no idea what was going on with him, but regardless, it was clear that he needed you. You laid your head back down on his shoulder, smiling to yourself as you felt him press a kiss to the top of your hair. 

three 

It had felt like forever since you had been on a proper date, the college lifestyle not always being conducive to it. But now here you were, getting ready to go out to dinner with the guy next door, Tommy. The two of you had been friendly for years, getting to know him more and more with each summer you spent with the Tkachuks. You definitely were surprised when he asked you out, but you didn’t see the harm in taking him up on his offer. 

And to be completely honest, part of you was getting frustrated at your situation with Brady. It was a cycle that started over each summer. You entered June denying that there was even a hint of anything more than friendship, but by July you were sucked right back under his spell, until August came and you were ripped apart from each other yet again. Clearly nothing was different about this year, so it was time you tried to move on and enjoy your summer in, well, other ways. 

You slipped into a dress, casual but still cute, and tied your white sneakers. You walked over to your window to see both Matthew and Brady’s cars sitting in the driveway. Great, you thought. This would be much more painless if they weren’t home, but of course, the world was not on your side. You did one last hair and makeup check before grabbing your bag and heading down the stairs, feigning total confidence as you grew closer to the boys. 

They were laying across the couch playing video games, both of their eyes darting straight to you as you tried to sneak out the front door. 

“It’s rude not to say goodbye,” you heard Matthew yell from behind you. 

“Fuck,” you silently mouthed, turning to move into the living room where they sat. 

“Sorry, I didn’t see you guys there!” you lied through your teeth. 

Matthew’s face scrunched up at your excuse, knowing there was no possible way you didn’t see them. 

“Where are you going?” Brady asked, his voice much softer than his brothers, almost like he knew what he was about to hear. 

“Um, I’m going to dinner with Tommy,” you said, trailing off at the end as the awkwardness set in the room. 

No matter how much you tried to deny it, you saw the way Brady’s face fell at your words. The guilt suddenly hit you like a truck, but then again it wasn’t like he was doing anything to change the status of your relationship. 

“Tommy?” Matthew questioned, his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Yeah,” you stalled, “I don’t know, he asked me and I said yes.”

“Interesting,” he muttered, looking at his younger brother who was pretending to be enthralled in the game. 

“Alright well, I’ll see you guys later,” you said, standing as you waited for Brady’s response, but it never came. 

Matthew sensed the obvious tension, doing whatever he could to break it, “Have fun Y/N, but not too much,” he teased. 

You rolled your eyes, finally moving to open the door, not at all minding that it slammed behind you. 

As soon as you were out the door, Matthew pulled the controller out of Brady’s hand. He couldn’t watch this anymore. 

“What the fuck, Matt?” he shouted, his emotions high after watching you leave. 

“No, I should be asking you that,” he threw back. “What the fuck are you two doing?”

Brady sighed, running his hands over his face before holding his heavy head in his palms. He didn’t know what he was doing. For so many years he was terrified of telling you how he felt. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, he didn’t know if your friendship could ever recover and he was not taking that risk. But this year it was all too much, you were perfect for each other and everyone around you knew it too. How could he blame you for trying to find someone else when he couldn’t even muster up the courage to tell you the truth?

“I don’t know, Matt,” he started, his words muffled by his hands, tears prickling the back of his eyes. 

Despite teasing him about you for so long, Matthew’s heart broke as he saw his brother in so much distress over this. 

“Just tell her. I promise you it will work out,” he encouraged, placing a comforting hand on Brady’s shoulder. “Anyone with eyes can tell that you two are made for each other. It’s gross, actually.”

Brady let out a laugh at Matthew’s chirp, finally picking his head up, “But now I have Tommy to worry about.”

Matthew scoffed, laughing as he spoke, “Yeah, because Y/N really seems like the type to throw away her entire relationship with you over one date with Tommy, of all people.”

-----

Your night was going well, but you just couldn’t shake the look on Brady’s face from your mind; he was hurt. 

Tommy was sweet, making you laugh throughout dinner, but you knew you had no intention of seeing him, like this, again. After leaving the restaurant, he suggested you got ice cream and walked around the city, to which you agreed. You felt bad for leading him on, but part of you was dreading arriving back to the house. You were sitting on a bench taking in the view of the city and talking about plans for the year when you felt him shift his body closer to yours. His intentions were clear, and your heart dropped at the realization that you were going to have to let him down much earlier than anticipated. 

Just as you were trying to find the right words to tell him, he placed his hand high on your thigh and he leaned in to kiss you. You immediately flinched, pulling your face far away from his.

“Tommy, I- I’m sorry,” you whispered. 

A dark chuckle came out of his mouth and you could feel the energy change, the air growing thick with tension. 

“Seriously?”

His much larger frame than yours suddenly became quite intimidating as he leaned over you, clearly not taking the rejection well. 

“I’m sorry,” you continued, “I just don’t think this is going to happen.”

“Unbelievable,” he shook his head at you, your body pushing back into the bench in an attempt to get as far away from him as possible. “This is about Tkachuk, isn’t it? I should have known you would only be interested in the fame and money,” he mumbled with another laugh. 

His words slapped you across the face, your eyes burning as you felt the tears try to push their way out. In all the years you had known him, you never had the slightest idea that Tommy had such a cruel side to him. 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you rebutted, “Get away from me, Tommy.”

“No problem, darling,” he smiled, standing up and walking away, leaving you stranded on the street downtown. 

Your head fell into your hands, the cold evening breeze riding under your dress. Your mind instantly started listing all the reasons why this was your fault, but deep down you knew it wasn’t. After sitting there in defeat for a few moments, you finally pulled out your phone, dialing the only number that ever mattered. 

It seemed like hours later when you finally saw the black SUV pull up on the street in front of you. Before you could even stand up, Brady was running out of the car towards you. Your emotions got the best of you once he was by your side, your body collapsing into his as the tears fell. 

“What the hell did he do?” he questioned while rocking you back and forth in his arms. 

You couldn’t find the words to answer. 

“Y/N, you’re freezing,” he spoke as he felt your cool skin against his, “Come on,” he urged, grasping your hand to guide you to the car. 

Once you were inside the warm car, he reached into the back seat to find a sweatshirt, handing you the soft material. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, scared your voice would betray you as you slipped the fabric over your head, the scent of his cologne comforting you right away. 

“I’m gonna kill him,” Brady hissed, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. 

“No, you’re not Brady,” you warned, “I had a good night until I didn’t. We just had different ideas of how it was going to end,” you scoffed, a sarcastic laugh slipping through your lips. 

Brady shook his head, pausing to glance over at you while he was stopped at a light. You were resting against the cool glass, his sweatshirt pooling around your hips, the fabric of your dress peeking from beneath it. The light finally turned, your face now illuminated in green and he only had one thought. 

He would never treat you like that. 

plus one

Despite his conversation with Matthew, Brady still had yet to say anything to you. You assured him time after time that you were okay after Tommy, but he didn’t want his confession to seem reactionary. You deserved more than that. 

The plan tonight was for everyone to go out to one of the hotspots in town, but you weren’t feeling it. Everything that happened the night before had you even more consumed with your thoughts about Brady, and you needed a night of just nothing. The voices from downstairs carried while the boys were getting ready to leave, their laughter making you smile as you walked into the kitchen. They were so wound up all year long and it was refreshing to see them truly relaxing. 

You drew their attention right away as you entered the room, their brows furrowed in confusion as they took in the sweats you were wearing. 

“Y/N!” one of them howled, “We’re going soon, hurry up!”

You laughed as you turned to face him, the voice belonging to Jack. 

“I’m not going Jack,” you explained, opening the fridge to look for something to satisfy your late-night craving. 

“But you have to come, you’re so fun,” he whined. 

“I promise I won’t be that fun tonight. Just go enjoy yourselves, I’ll be here waiting to make sure you all get back in the house alive,” you jested. 

“I’ll stay,” you heard from behind you. You didn’t even have to look to know who it was. 

You finally rotated your body, meeting his gaze right away. He looked good. His black jeans hugged his thighs perfect, the matching black t-shirt fitting around his biceps like a glove. He towered over your, those bright blue eyes piercing into yours. He was close enough for you to take in his cologne, the scent immediately clouding your senses. 

“I’m fine, Brady,” you reasoned, shaking yourself out of your daze, “Seriously, go.”

He didn’t speak right away, instead he gave you a knowing look. You gave him the same look right back, challenging him to go against you. 

“Matt,” he called, not breaking eye contact, “I’m gonna stay.”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness but you were just thankful that you had a reason to look away, praying that the heat you were feeling hadn’t made its way onto your cheeks. 

“Alright,” Matthew responded, not even bothering to question the two of you at this point. 

The boys flooded the front door, all yelling goodbye before they piled into the Ubers waiting outside. A heavy silence fell over the house, your body leaning against the kitchen counter as you waited for Brady to say something. 

“I’m just gonna change,” he spoke, gesturing to the staircase. “Put a movie on, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Just a few minutes later he returned, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. You were laying across the couch, the movie already playing as he sat down next to you. 

“Cold?” he asked, already knowing that you were by the way you wrapped your arms around your middle. 

“A little,” you mumbled, smiling as he covered the two of you in a blanket, squeezing your frame as he pulled it closer to his own. 

You stayed like that for a while, your body resting nearly completely on top of his, your leg swung over his lap and your head nuzzled into his chest. Any tension that was there before seemed to have disappeared, both of you returning to your normal states. 

But just seconds later, the screen flashed to a bedroom, the two main characters in the middle of what could be referred to only as a passionate, graphic sex scene. You immediately felt Brady tense beneath you, your cheeks flushing bright red at his response. It took everything within you not to react in any other way, but it felt like your entire body was on fire, begging to be touched. The sounds of the woman’s moans echoed off the walls, her face contorting in pleasure as the man continued. There was no denying that the image triggered a throbbing pressure between your legs, your brain fighting your body’s instinct to grind against his thigh. 

Brady’s stomach dropped when he processed what was happening, the woman undressing on the screen making his mind wander to doing the same thing with you. He wanted to touch you like that, he wanted to make you scream his name like that, make you fall apart like that because no one knew you as well as he did. But his imagination was far too vivid, and he internally cursed himself as he felt his pants become tighter and tighter. 

This has to be the longest sex scene in the history of all film, you thought to yourself as it continued, seemingly never-ending. Your hand was growing sore from its position under your head, so you gently shifted your body in hopes of getting more comfortable, but what you got was something else entirely. 

Your breath hitched when you felt it, unable to disguise your reaction. You were situated over his lap, your lower thigh brushing against his crotch and you could feel just how hard he had become beneath you. You froze, not knowing what to do or say, if anything at all. 

“Y/N,” he whispered, preparing to apologize, afraid he had made you so uncomfortable that he couldn’t recover. 

You knew he was beyond embarrassed, but something inside you had been ignited and you couldn’t ignore it any longer. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you swung your hips over his, moving to straddle him while you grabbed his face, pulling it to yours. He tensed again in pure shock, but it didn’t take long for him to relax against you, his hands circling your waist as he pushed you back down into his lap. Your lips moved together in perfect synchrony, a small whimper slipping out from your mouth as he bit your bottom lip between his teeth. He groaned into you at the sound, his hands sliding lower so he could grind you into his length, in desperate need of hearing you more. You had one hand tugging at the nape of his neck, the blond curls feeling like silk between your fingers, while the other slipped underneath his shirt, running your cool fingertips across his flexing abs. 

You were both so lost in the moment, ready to rip each other's clothes off at any second when Brady finally pulled back. 

“Wait,” he gasped, running his large hands across your thighs as he gathered his thoughts. 

Your breathing was labored, trying to catch your breath as you took in the sight below you. His lips were pink and swollen, his cheeks had a bright red tinge, and his blues eyes were staring at you in awe. 

“What?” you questioned, insecurity suddenly flooding your mind, your body separating from his as you leaned away. 

“No no no,” he cooed, urging you to come back close to him. You obliged, your eyes scanning his face in hopes of deciphering what he was thinking. 

“I just- if we’re going to do this,” he gestured between your bodies, “We have to do... this,” he whispered as he looked up at you, what he meant perfectly clear to you. “I want you, but I want all of you.” 

You smiled at his words, the anxiety washing off his face as he saw your reaction. 

“Brady, I have wanted this for longer than I can even remember,” you beamed, your hands cupping his cheeks, thumbing running over the soft skin. “I want all of you, too.”

“Yeah?” he grinned.

“Yeah,” you laughed. 

He pulled you back down to meet his lips, your teeth clashing as you both smiled into the kiss. 

“Well then,” he smirked, “If you don’t mind, I’m taking you upstairs.”

He wrapped his palms around your thighs, holding you as he stood up. You shrieked at the sudden movement, laughing as your legs circled his waist. He held you impossibly close to his body, terrified to let you go now that he had you.

“Please, Brady,” you whined against his skin, “Take me upstairs.” 

“Fuck,” he breathed out. 

That was all he needed to hear to rush up to his room, more than ready to show you exactly how much he had loved you since day one. 

part two here

[pinkpatiencecreepers]

Alone In A Crowd

3

"Do you want some Skittles?", I asked Izzy right after opening the bag of sweets. "Sure", he smiled at me and extended his open hand.

We had started walking up the avenue with no destination in particular. Turned out that neither of us had anything to do on this cool summer night, but we kept on talking and it felt natural. He told me more about himself and I learned that he wasn't originally from Los Angeles, but from Lafayette, Indiana, of all places. He had moved on his own when he turned 18, four years ago. I would had never imagined it since he looked like an embodiment of the city and all its seedy places. But there was still something in him that seemed foreign to me, and that was his subtle Midwestern accent. It should had immediately given him away, but it didn't. Or perhaps I was just extremely distracted tonight.

On the other hand, I was born and raised here. I knew the city like the palm of my hand and it had been my playground for as long as I could remember. I also told him I had a part-time job in the antique shop next to the Chinese restaurant down the block, and that in the mornings I attended to UCLA. I was in the middle of my undergrad art program, but all I knew about the life as an artist in the making was that I was constantly juggling between what I thought was my passion and trying to make ends meet. That and that I couldn't remember the last time I saw the floor of my tiny apartment since it was mostly covered by papers and discarded drawings.

"I don't know, man. Most people would say that the core of the Stones' sound are Jagger and Richards. And I do love Keef, but what about Bill or Charlie? Why do everyone always overlook them? The Stones have some great bass lines, especially in the late 70s. That rhythm section is one of a kind, I think", I threw my two cents on the heated conversation we were having on the Rolling Stones. "No, exactly! And what about Mick Taylor, y'know? Or Ronnie!, he replied and I nodded enthusiastically. I let him continue. "Ronnie fucking Wood brought all that energy from The Faces and his vibe it's great!".

It also turned out that Izzy was something like a mega fan of the British band and cherished the ground Keith walked on. I should had also figured that from his looks, but at this moment he struck more like a Johnny Thunders than a Keith Richards to me. It must had been because he was sporting white creepers shoes and an oversized black leather jacket. More punk rock than gypsy, but nonetheless extremely cool and it suited him just fine.

Somewhere in our conversation about every single piece of music by the Stones from the last two decades, I must had lost track of where we were heading but we ended up in Santa Monica Boulevard, right in front of the Hollywood Memorial Park.

"Holy shit, they're screening the Texas Chain Saw Massacre! Have you seen it?", I asked him. "Yeah, who hasn't?", he stated as matter of fact. "Well, I haven't?", I looked at him and it was obvious he was trying not to laugh at me. "What- why? Wait, how old are you again? I could watch it if you want to, but are you sure you're old enough?", he had a shit eating grin and he was holding onto my shoulders. "I'm 21, you idiot. I just told you!", I pretended to be offended but I had a big smile on my face. "I'm fucking with you, but I wanted to be sure. What if you get scared and shit?", he continued joking. "I'm not gonna get scared, for fuck's sake. C'mon!", I grabbed one of his hands and led him into the cemetery to find a good spot on the grass for us to sit.

[twobitsswitchblade]

“Cigarettes & fresh rain”A Dalbit fanfiction.

It was pouring like dogs n cats in Tulsa this morning. I was standing in the living room looking out the big window still very groggy and tired.

Rain always had a soft spot in me, the memories back in New York when me and my buddies would ride our bikes in the rain. Man, I wish I could restart and go back..but again times back then with my folks and the bullying werent..great but if I could say something to my friends one more time Itd be 'sorry'...

Before I could think more a yawn appeared behind me, my body turned around softly at the noise. There stood keith with his bad posture and bed head, he was rubbing his eyes. "Good morning Dallas" the younger boy groaned out coming up to me and throwing his face into my chest.

"Good morning Keith..." I said wrapping my arms around him strongly. He put his arms around me and pulled my body closer. I twiddled with his hair and looked out the window once more, "think you'll be goin to work Dal?" Two said softly looking up with his sharp colored eyes as he tugged my tank top.

"Maybe not...I just wanna enjoy this day" I said looking down at the boy who became happier,  ever thought I'd smile over his, dumb smirk and vibrant..green eyes and...silky hair and. I was cut off with my thoughts by a small peck on the cheek sending me to freeze and melt at the same time.

I looked at the tired boy and swepted the tiny hair out of his face and rubbed his cheeks with my thumbs. "Good morning" a much softer voice said as Keith let go of me and cleared his throat sitting on the window sile. "Morning soda!" Keith said blushing deep red as I couldn't help but smile. "Morning sodakid" I said walking to the couch and plopped down.

Me and Keith never officially announced us dating and we don't even know when we will but, a lot of people including soda were suspicious. Sometimes when me and Keith share cigarettes you could see soda whisper something to steve while looking at us, I usually just flip them off or run after them.

I watched the rain from the couch as Keith joined me, soda was out of sight and went downstairs. The younger boy put his head into my neck and scooched closer closing the gap between our thighs. He slithered his arm around my back and chest and practically was falling asleep. Even I started to doze off along with the boy.

After a couple of minutes Keith was dead asleep and my head started to circle as I fell off into a sleep but before I can get a minute of sleep a loud voice appeared.

"Boys me, pone and Johnny are gonna go out to the store for groceries since Darry was out of town," don't ask me why he was out of town I don't even know.

Steve pone and Johnny were out the door before I asked a question. I sighed and looked at Keith.

He was so peacefully asleep you could kiss him right there. I watched his eyeslashes twitch and listened to his tiny snores. His hair was FUcked up from last night when us and the gang went out and just gooofed off, I was still picking pieces of grass out of his hair after he past out from all the boozes. I hated when the kid drank but knowing what he went through, could you really see him NOT drinking?

~~~~~~~

Overtime I tried to get up to get a drink but I had mistakenly woke him up. "Dal?" He said groggy as I got pissed at myself "hey Keith!" I said, I looked him up and down smiling awkwardly as he got a confused look but he shook it off.

~~~~~~~

In the mean time me and Keith got dressed. "Where the hell is my jacket?" I asked as Keith came walking down the hallway and peeking through our bedroom door, I turned around with a very frustrated look and you could tell he had been hiding something.

I knew instantly as I could see the collar of my jacket peek from the door that he didn't notice, I walked up to him and looked at him straight as he went red tucking his lips in trying not to laugh. "I fucking hate you" "no you don't" he said as I just rolled my eyes and took my jacket back and threw his leather one at him.

We were planning to sit on the roof so we got our most warmest clothes on and walked out, he shut the front door from behind us and I climbed onto the abandoned truck Steve never got rid of and hopped on the roof, Keith always had trouble with it so when he got on the truck I picked him up from under the armpits like a little kid and he got ahold of the roof.

Our legs dangled and he rocked his back and forth. I looked at Keith and he was just enjoying himself looking up at the rain as I smiled and grabbed a cigarette. I hid them under my jacket like I was a drug dealer trying not to get them wet. I pulled a weed out and dangled it from my pink cold lips and lit it.

I looked up at the rain like Keith and blew some smoke to the sky before it was blown away by the wind. I looked at the smaller boy who had caught eye of me, he was in some sort of daze and trust me I didn't want it to end. I looked back up and took another inhale this time barely any smoke coming out of my mouth.

"Hey Dal?" The kid said as I looked at him. "Yeah two" I said with a groggy voice still as I looked at him. "When do you think we should tell the gang? I'm getting inpatient.." he whistled as wetness dripped from his hair onto his nose. "Soon, I'm just not ready." I said Inhaling more smoke and looking off into the distance.

I hated how me and Keith had to hide, I mean soda and Steve got to kiss and flirt and shit and I always knew Keith was jealous about it. I feel bad that I've never been ready ready. I just don't know how to tell the kid the last time I was in this situation I lost half my buddies and was left on New York streets bloody and bruised..my boyfriend at the time was scared of being hated and ran away too.

I looked at the impatient boy. "I just wish we can be like soda n Steve y'know? I'm sure Darry will be fine with it and pony and Johnny and everyone Dal..." he said as I sliked my hair back from the rain. "I know, but they could be like my buds in New York" he looked confused, I always told the boy that my New York buddies and I were still close but when he heard that he went confused. "Nice?" He said as I shook my head "there's something I haven't told you.."...

I explained the whole 9 yards of being abandoned by everyone and he listened closely, he felt sorry and you could see it in his eyes. I shrugged and smoked more as he took the smoke from mt mouth.

I'm sorry Dal..he said putting the used cigarette between his lips and smoking. "It's fine, just give me some time" I said smiling as he smiled back.

"Of course" he said and laid his head on my shoulder and enjoyed the now rising sun.

[comradefleur]

appearance headcanons for my fav vld characters !!

lance mcclain

he has deep brown skin, exactly like he appears in S1E1 and around that time. he progressively got lighter as did all the characters of colour but i envision him as melanated as he first appeared to us. it's only right especially since i hc that he's afro latino.

he has wild, brown curls that he has an extensive care routine for, just like his skin care routine. he just makes sure they're kept moisturized and healthy and just let's them blow gently in the wind like the looker he is.

he has a smattering of freckles over his nose and cheeks, which he covered because he was initially insecure about them. he still covers them occasionally just because he likes wearing makeup.

i imagine he has at least one tattoo, one of significant meaning, somewhere like on one of his biceps, that he got without permission from his mother, which led to him getting into trouble until he told her it signified his late grandmother.

i feel like he likes minimal jewellery, always being seen with a sapphire ring and a long silver necklace he typically hides in his layered sweaters and t shirts. his ears are pierced and he likes small silver or sometimes blue studs.

his style is simple, but flattering, accentuating his long legs and lean torso. he likes turtlenecks and staple/statement pieces like good quality and durable jackets that he can build outfits around. his jeans always fit him perfectly.

princess allura

she has thick, super long 4b/4c curls that she dyes silver/white and takes extensively good care of to avoid damage. she always has a different hairstyle, twists, puffs, cornrows, buns and all the in between. on occasion she flat irons it to show her true length.

she's pink goth, dyeing her hair to her natural black on occasion which especially accents the pink and purple elements of her various looks. she likes layering clothing alot, and wearing platform shoes. she loves sparkles, and her eye makeup typically includes them.

she likes eye catching pieces, mini skirts with metallic embellishments, fishnet stockings, and crop tops to show off the pink tattoos on her torso that match the tiny ones on her face, which she never covers. she has multiple little black dresses and lots of thigh high boots.

i imagine her having a vertical industrial in one ear, the other lined with small silver studs that resemble a constellation. she wears multiple bracelets and at least 2-3 rings. she loves silver, but will sometimes swap it for gold. her nose, lips and bellybutton are pierced.

i can see her having a few small tattoos in discreet places, like over her knuckles, on her index finger, behind her neck at her nape and on her thigh. they would be cute little things like the moon and stars, an infinity sign or a heart.

keith kogane

keith's hair is naturally jet black, which he enjoys with purple, red or blue streaks. but he has had a silver/white phase to play into it. his main style is a mullet but he eventually grows it out to mid back and wears low to high ponytails.

he will never be caught dead without his winged eyeliner, which is the only makeup he knows how to do on himself. he doesn't cover the scar he got in a motorcycle accident. his nails are always black. always. he has a lip ring, and like allura one ear is completely studded out.

he only wears black or silver jewellery, except his chokers which he allows to have more variation if he's feeling up to it. he loves platform shoes, tight dark jeans, combat boots, and leather pieces. he likes dark colours and favours deep red.

i could see him having one or two tattoos, in fairly noticeable places, that could still be covered, however. like maybe one of his favourite constellations or a celestial wolf (cause duh) on his arm or chest.

prince lotor

he's dark skinned with mid back length silver/white locs. he does little with it except put it in ponytails. he likes jewellery and piercings, so his tongue as well as lips, and ears are pierced. he wears anklets often, and a few necklaces at once.

he's always in the darkest outfits you can find, head to toe in black and grey tones. however he takes a special liking to dark purple and he enjoys silver embellishments. he likes graphic eyeliner which is typically black or purple.

his wardrobe fits him well. he enjoys turtlenecks, skinny jeans and combat boots. i don't imagine him enjoying any form of shorts very much, but i can see him wearing the occasional crop top to show off his toned torso. i feel like he'd enjoy at least one tattooed sleeve.

romelle

she has long blonde hair with bright blue streaks. this is how she typically keeps it, but one time she went crazy and kept up with rainbow streaks for a while. she doesn't know if she'll do it again or not, but it was a look.

her ears are pierced and that's about it! her look is very natural and bright, so she gravitates towards fresh dewy and light makeup, with particularly rosy blush. that's her favourite part of doing her makeup. she loves a good blue eyeshadow or blue eyeliner and sparkles.

she's always in bright and pastel colours, and her favourites are pink and blue. she loves mom jeans and y2k fashion is basically all she will ever wear, in various colours. she takes special care to make sure she's embodying the style of girls from 2000s chickflicks.

[maandags]

Requests are open!!! *does an excited hoppy dance* oh my goodness the excitement. May I suggest a) something with Matt Holt, perhaps in an au with some sort of power (like a demigod or witch or ATLA au, etc.) or b) something for HTTYD with no pairing and plenty of dragon presence! Bonding/interacting with dragons, etc. Thankyouthankyouthankyou you are such an amazingly skilled author and making requests like this is a very special privilege. Thank you for sharing your writing :)

it’s Capture the Flag day at Camp Halfblood, and nobody lets you forget it.

of course, the nervous jitters get to you, as well. you’re not immune, even though you’ve never been a particular lover of the game. but it’s Camp tradition, and Camp Halfblood is your home, so you’ll fuck up your friends (and not-so-friends) every once in a while to keep things interesting. sure.

it’s Hephaestus, Demeter, Ares,  Apollo -- that’s you -- against Athena, Aphrodite, Hermes, and Dionysus. you’re not worried about Dionysus’ kids -- their heart isn’t in the game, and it’s easy to tell. Athena and Hermes are the ones who will pose an actual problem, you suspect. 

as you get ready, fingers making quick work of the straps on your breastplate, swinging your quiver over your shoulder (holding blunt-tipped arrows -- so they’ll still hurt like a bitch, but won’t do serious damage); strapping on your bracer, then pulling on your leather glove. you reach for your helmet, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at the red plume sticking out of it. it’s tradition, Y/N.

“you think you’re gonna win today, L/N?”

you squint up at the boy decked out in full Capture the Flag regalia, a sword at his side and a knife strapped to his thigh, brown hair mussed and glasses slightly askew on his nose. “half your team aren’t fighters, Matt. not like you and I am.” you lean back, cross your arms. “let’s just say I’m not disliking my chances, here.”

Matt shakes his head with a grin. “we’re going to crush you.”

“HOLT!” both of you whip around to the source of the voice -- it belongs to a tall Hermes kid, one of the only campers older than Matt and you, standing with his hands on his hips, glaring intensely at his teammate. “stop fraternizing with the enemy!”

Matt snickers, then bows. “well. I guess duty calls. I’ll see you after we win the game.”

“you’re so full of shit.”

“I love you, too.”

as he turns, you shout after him, “I’ve got an arrow with your name on it, Holt!”

the team captains convene -- Matt’s sister Pidge, on one side, and an Ares kid named Tyler on yours. the flags are hidden, everyone moves to their side of the creek. as you walk, Tyler and Keith, a Hephaestus kid, go through the battle plan one more time. you’ve heard it countless times before, so you listen with one ear. 

Tyler points to you. “Y/N, up in the trees. slow ‘em down as much as you can.”

“always, boss.”

“don’t get distracted by brown-haired sons of Athena,” Keith quips with a grin.

without missing a beat, you reply, “as long as you don’t get distracted by blue-eyed sons of Aphrodite, fuckwad.” Keith goes red and shoves his middle finger in your face, so you respond in kind.

“guys,” Tyler says, sounding both annoyed and tired and resigned, “focus, please.”

some obscene gestures and mouthed insults later, you’re stationed up in your tree, standing on a sturdy branch, bow at the ready, an arrow nocked. (special arrows. Keith helped out with this; you’ve got some stinkbombs, some explosive arrows, some sticky ones... they’re nasty. you can’t wait to use them.) you’ve tied yourself to the tree by your waist, having made the mistake of not doing so in the past and paying the price with bruises and cuts.

the horn sounds. the game’s begun.

border duty isn’t the most exciting part of the game. if you were a close-range fighter, you would have killed to be in the scouting group, or the flag-capturing group. but you’re not, so a spot up in the trees it is.

after a couple minutes, you spot the group of campers charged with capturing the actual flag leap over the creek like cheetahs, splitting up into two groups immediately after crossing over into the other side. despite everything, your heart rate speeds up, just a bit. your grip on the nocked arrow tightens. 

then, out of the depths of the forest in front of you, three campers race towards your side of the creek. trying to go fast, while also being quiet. heh. not if you have anything to say about it.

you bring your bow up to your face and aim, loosing it almost immediately. elegantly. effortlessly, as Matt would say. it sinks into the earth in front of the nearest camper with a dull thud, and a split second later it explodes, sending dirt and loose branches and leaves everywhere. 

before the three campers can do anything to react, you’ve let loose another arrow. this one, when it explodes, poofs out a cloud of thick red smoke, which rises high above the treetops. could just as well have been a flare. stealth mission? not so much.

but you’ve given yourself away, now. not that it matters much, now. worth it. 

“FUCK YOU, Y/N!” that’s Lance. son of Aphrodite, one of the few who is actually invested in the game. (a little too invested, in your opinion.) 

you blow him a kiss, send him a wave. “I love you, too!”

Lance yanks his fellow campers up, shakes his fist up at you. “you play dirty!”

“I’ve been here for eleven years, Lance. I deserve to play a little dirty.”

at that, Lance laughs. you narrow your eyes. “eleven years, huh?” he grins. “still can’t recognise a simple distraction?”

“what are you –” you cut yourself off, cursing, whirling around, only just managing to spot a head of brown hair zipping through the trees. 

before you realise you’re doing it, you’ve already drawn another arrow. this time, as you pull it back, you breathe out, relaxing, concentrating on the tiny shifts of movement you can still see through the trees. behind you, Lance is still shouting – “he’s gone, Y/N, we’ve outsmarted you, just admit it, you’re gonna lose –” but you drown him out. 

you let the arrow fly, and a whole second later there’s the unmistakable “augh!” of someone who just ate shit. (tangling arrow: its impact triggers the uncoiling of a spool of iron thread, hopelessly tangling the target’s legs.) 

you throw Lance a glance over your shoulder. he throws up his hand. “for the GODS’ SAKES, Y/N.” 

“do not,” you say, lips curling into a grin when you spot your group of flag-catchers, three strong, approaching from the other side of the river, the silver Athena banner rippling between them, “underestimate a child of Apollo.” 

Keith and Tyler are being chased by a growing group of blue-plumed campers, but you know it’s no use; those two are fast bastards. for the fun of it, you send another exploding arrow towards the pursuers’ ankles. the dull pop! and consequent yelps make you grin.

Keith takes a final leap over the creek and skids to a halt on the other side. the banner shifts in his hand, from silver to blood-red. 

he holds it above his head, and you let out a loud whoop before sticking two fingers in your mouth and letting out an insanely loud, piercing whistle.

the game is over. you’ve won.

you descend from your tree, dropping the last five feet to the ground, shaking your head at the mob of campers who’ve hoisted Keith and Tyler upon their shoulders and are jumping up and down. you cross your arms.

“fucking eh. I really thought we had you this time.” 

an arm drapes itself around your shoulders, and you grin, shooting a glance up at your boyfriend. “I told you I had an arrow with your name on it.” 

“you did. I’ll outrun you eventually.” Matt dips down, presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“pfft. good luck with that. you almost fooled me this time, though,” you add, poking his side. “almost.” you look down at his red-streaked legs. his knees are also scraped and slightly bloody, but his eyes are twinkling with mirth. “sorry about your ankles.”

he sighs. “yeah. I think I’ll need someone to carry me back to camp.” 

you shake your head again with a chuckle, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re so full of shit.”