#I want him to slather me in sunscreen so gently

[sunflowerwinds]

pulling you in | e.w

summary: the next day, new tattoo and all, you try and distract yourself from your overwhelming feelings and focus on the activities set for the day. your heart and mind are all over the place and you don’t know what to do anymore. ellie apologizes in a way that makes you even more stuck on who you want to turn to.

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

contains: mature language, reader being so confused with what she wants (bare with me), adorable pining!, more oblivious!reader: it’s painful atp

word count: 3.2K

a/n: first of all, the support for this series makes my heart soar. second of all, i’m almost to 2k follows which blows my mind. i am forever grateful for the support my writing has gotten from the little gay people on this app <3

under the summer stars masterlist

It was safe to say that you had screwed up any chance of being with Ellie. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be or in the stars for you. Whatever saying that referred to being made for each other did not apply to you and Ellie.

Maybe saying Abby was a good thing; bring you down from this fantasy world and move the hell on. You were leaning back in a lawn chair, slathered in sunscreen and wearing sunglasses to protect your retinas from the burning UV rays (and shamelessly staring at a certain somebody). The children in your cabin were playing some good old-fashioned duck-duck-goose before they had their big Tug-O-War match between all the cabins.

You could see Ellie from a distance with her own group digging in the sandbox for some ‘fossils’. Your eyes were practically formed into hearts seeing her enthusiastically explain all the dinosaur bones and which deceased animal they belonged to. Her geekiness made her even more attractive to you if that was even possible.

No. Enough.

You shook your head and found yourself glancing over at Abby’s group who were running through the extra-large bubbles, giggling happily. The tall blonde had admiration written all over her face at how much fun the kids were having; bright smile and all. You would be lying to yourself if you hadn’t been checking out Abby’s muscular arms and legs when she would break out her athletic shorts and shirts.

“You know just because you like girls doesn’t make your staring any less creepy?” You hear from beside you which causes you to jump a little.

You smack Dina’s leg for scaring you. You’re beyond glad you were wearing sunglasses as you didn’t want him to be right. Could everyone tell that you were gawking at Ellie’s fingers gently caressing the rocks like she was touching your thigh last—

My god, you needed help.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrug your shoulders, grabbing your handheld fan from the tote bag next to you on the ground and shaking it in front of your face.

“Come on. You don’t think I know you’re eye-fucking Ellie?” She mutters close to you as you both glance around but neither of your groups were paying attention to you guys.

“Not Ellie,” you state simply.

Dina audibly gasps and kneels down next to your chair, peeing over the direction you were.

“Wait, are you gawking at Abby?” She questioned with a soft chuckle.

“Maybe?” You say unsure of what you are truly feeling.

“I mean, yum, but I didn’t you were serious about moving on from Ellie,” Dina emphasized as you both stared at Abby grabbing one of the large coolers and moving it to where the kids were.

You sighed as your eyes flickered over at the one that held your heart before fixating on Abby once again.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I’m going to do anything about Abby either. Just admiring from afar.”

“And where has that gotten you over the past three years?” Dina deadpanned, raising her brows at you as she patted her sweaty upper lip with the back of her hand.

You remained silent as she got you there. Dina stood up from her position next to you, patting your shoulder before jerking her head towards the Tug-O-War makeshift arena.

“C’mon. Enough pining. We gotta get the kids for Tug-O-War. It’s mine against yours first,” Dina cheekily responded before jogging over to her campers.

You shot up from your seat and grabbed your whistle that was dangling around your neck, slotting it into your mouth to blow to get everyone’s attention. All of your campers froze their game of Duck-Duck-Goose, immediately scurrying over to you.

“Alright, campers! You guys ready to do Tug-O-War?” You shout with enthusiasm in your voice.

The kids started screaming with excitement, matching your energy times a million. You winced a little bit but kept your smile.

“I said,” you pause for dramatics. “Are you ready for Tug-O-War?” You over-enunciate every word which resulted in an uproar of cheers.

You chuckle softly and motion for the kids to follow you to the makeshift arena. There, a few feet across, was your friend and opponent, Dina and her campers. The brunette had her arms crossed over her chest with a playful narrow, motioning that she was watching us. You mouth that she was going down to which she scoffed and rolled her eyes.

The mediator, Jesse, cleared his throat as he explained the rules of the game. Basic no-cheating, no pushing, shoving, etc. He had one hand on his hip with a megaphone in the other.

“Lookin’ good, mediator,” Dina calls over to Jesse who points warningly at her.

“You know the rules, Miss Dina. No sweet talking.” Jesse gave her one more glance before clearing his throat.

You snort to yourself before instructing your kids to keep their feet planted and wide and to tug as hard as they can. As soon as Jesse shouted ‘Go!’, everyone in your team began pulling with all their might. You watched as Dina’s team was completely thrown off guard and slipped over the dry grass beneath their sneakers. You kept shouting that the kids had it and to not let go.

After one final tug from your team, the ribbon in the middle of the rope moved past the white indicator line. You gasped as Jesse shouted, ‘One point to the Daisies!’. You huddled in with the kids, bouncing up and down with glee at the victory. In good spirit, the opposite teams gave each other high fives just like after a little league baseball game.

This went on for about an hour; each winner fighting against one another until it came to the last two. Not your surprise, you and Ellie’s campers came neck in neck with the points. On the sidelines, all of the other campers and friends of yours were cheering for both sides to not show preference for either team.

Ellie’s green eyes were narrowed at you with a taunting eyebrow raise while you scratched at your nose with your middle finger to discreetly flip her off. She caught it almost instantly and shook her head, prodding her tongue into her inner cheek.

“Our finalists, the mighty Daisies and the strong Dinos are about to have their final throw down. The winning team gets this highly expensive, one-of-a-kind trophy!” Jesse announced which caused the entirety of the camp which resulted in an uproar of cheers.

It was a trophy off of Amazon that read ‘#1 Champions’ that was 7 bucks but Jesse knew how to get the kids more and more competitive and eager to win. You locked eyes with Ellie from a few feet away, a shiver sliding down your back when she licked her lips before tightly gripping the thick rope.

The veins on her arms and hands protruded out, her sweat making them glisten under the hot sunbeams. You just needed a photo of what you were looking at and you would be content forever. Distracted by her annoying good looks, you tripped over your own feet when Jesse announced that the final Tug-O-War was on.

But you quickly held your ground and began tugging the rope as aggressively as possible, trying not to get overwhelmed by the amount of cheering coming from your friends and other campers. It took a few minutes before the Dinos did one final tug that caused the flag in the middle to move past the white line.

You glanced down at your hands, sighing at the sight of a few burn marks as you released the rope. Ellie was surrounded by her campers, all excitedly jumping up and down with her. You couldn’t even be sad about losing seeing her so happy. She had rubbed every single one of their heads, telling them how cool and strong they all were.

“Our winners; the Dino cabin!” Jesse shouts into the megaphone, jogging over to hand Ellie the medium-sized trophy.

Ellie snatched it from him to hold it up over her head to show it off. She then grabbed the megaphone from Jesse as well, clearing her throat as she began to give a speech.

“I just want to say thank you to my amazing group of campers. I couldn’t have done it without all of these Incredible Hulks over here,” Ellie smiled like a maniac as the campers started clapping. “But it’s getting too hot out here guys so let’s head over to the Arts cabin to make our bracelets with some snacks and drinks. Let’s go, everybody.”

You told your campers to follow you to the Arts cabin, making sure to let them know how great they did regardless of not being in first place. They all agreed but told you they were excited to get bracelet making. That eased your worries. As much as you enjoy these competitive activities, you are terrified that the kids will begin to feel bad about themselves.

As your group entered the cabin, you instructed your kids to wait in line to get snacks and drinks. You watch them all carefully make their way over to the four lines when you feel a hand rest on your clothed shoulder.

“I didn’t think Ellie could beat you,” Abby’s low voice mutters.

“She’s toned, Abs. I think it was a fair one so,” you shrug your shoulders as you check the list of activities on your clipboard.

“Yeah, I guess so but I was rooting for you.” Abby gave your shoulder a soft squeeze.

You turn to her with a friendly smile, raising your eyebrows at her own slightly frizzy braid.

“Well, I mean we all know why you were winning your Tug-O-Wars,” you eye her biceps, reaching one hand forward to touch the heated skin from being out in the sun.

Abby seemed to just let you touch her, the muscle tensing under your fingers. You look at her and notice how obvious you are with this weird attempt at flirting. You retract your hand and clear your throat.

“So, later when we take our campers to the campfire for s’mores, can I save you a spot?” Abby blatantly stares at your lips before flickering up to your eyes.

From across the room, you make eye contact with Ellie who seems more confused than anything. Jesse was rambling to her about something that you weren’t able to hear as she was helping him set up the bracelet-making table, twiddling with the strands.

“Yeah, Abs. That sounds good,” you nod after forcefully tearing your eyes away from Ellie’s tense posture.

“Yeah?” Abby asks once to confirm.

You hum to ease her mind, nodding with a kind smile.

“Okay, I’ll do that,” Abby nods more so to herself before jerking her head over to her group of campers.

As Abby left you by yourself with your hammering thoughts, you felt a nudge to your hip. You look down to see one of your campers holding up a string to you.

“Can you help me make a bracelet for Beth?” Carter questions, adjusting his baby. blue glasses on his face.

“Yeah, of course, bud.”

“I sorta got mad at her earlier and I want her to know that I’m sorry for doing that,” the little blonde boy expresses, shyly messing with the string.

You thought it was so adorable to see kids express their emotions differently. You’ve noticed as people age, emotions become harder to express. There was no fear in his eyes; a little timid, sure but he knew he had to express it somehow. Yes, people are complicated but children are so open; so innocent.

“I’m sure you didn’t mean it, Carter.”

From across the room you spotted Beth, giggling with Vanessa quietly as they made their own bracelets. Carter quietly told you that he noticed how much she wore the color purple so you helped him pick out the different shades of purple beads to slide onto the bracelet.

The crowd of kids chattering was a weird comfort to you. You couldn’t express it enough how much you loved this job.

After the children had their snacks and finished up the crafting, Tommy and Joel escorted everyone’s campers to their assigned cabin. The counselors cleaned up the art room during that time period. You had no desire to clean so you snuck out to sit on the steps as you waited for everyone else to be done.

As you doodle on your clipboard, you hear the door open behind you and you pretend to make notes instead. That is until you look over your shoulder to see Ellie standing with her arms crossed behind her back.

“Hey,” you grinned at her.

Ellie reciprocates the gesture, looking away from you for a moment.

“Hi,” the auburn-haired girl tilted her head at you. “I was wondering where you went.”

Was your back sweating from anxiety or the heat?

“Sorry. I… didn’t really feel like cleaning,” you weakly chuckled before focusing back on your scribbles and doodles.

“It’s not a lot to clean so you’re good. I just wanted to, uh,” Ellie cleared her throat before making her way closer to you, the boards beneath her feet slightly squeaking.

Before you knew it, an object hit your clipboard right underneath your graphite nonsense. Your eyes drop to it and your brows furrow in confusion.

“What’s this?”

You question as you stare at the bracelet that Ellie has now thrown on the clipboard in front of you resting on your knees. It was a mixture of beads of your favorite colors with your initial smack dab in the middle.

“An apology in a way. I noticed you’ve been kind of distant today so if it was something I did or said,” Ellie scratched behind her ear as she grinned weakly at you. “I’m sorry.”

So that’s why she had been making bracelets earlier. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t been acting weird or distant all of today. You hadn’t talked to Ellie on your own once, which clearly didn’t go didn't go unnoticed by the freckled girl. You felt like an insensitive ass acting this way.

“Els, it’s a personal thing. I’m sorry for being weird,” you stated as you fiddled with the bracelet.

“It’s okay. Just… wanna make sure my favorite girl doesn’t hate me,” Ellie nervously chuckled.

What the hell was she doing to you?

”I don’t think I ever could,” you admit as you admire the slightly too-big bracelet.

Ellie nodded, her green eyes darting from the apology in your hands to your expression. She seemed so antsy to give it to you; secretly afraid that you would hate it or think it was strange or pushing a boundary.

“How’s your tattoo?” Ellie questioned.

“Oh, um, all good. You did amazing, Els.” You reassure her.

“Can I see it to double-check? For… irritation.”

You stare into her wide green eyes, noticing how dilated her pupils are. There was the smallest ring of green due to how much the pupils were taking up her eyes.

“Sure, yeah,” you carefully lifted up your shorts leg to show her the small sun.

It was a bit splotchy but adorable nonetheless. You had put on soothing shea butter lotion and washed it gently this morning so it was good as new. Ellie reached her fingers forward to carefully trace over the detailed spiral in the middle. Goosebumps rose instantly to the surface of your skin despite the drastic heat outside.

“Looks good. It suits you.” Ellie confesses to you, grinning as her thumb traces over the inked section of your upper thigh.

“I might visit you again to get more. Maybe some finger ones?” You suggest, holding your hands out to her.

Ellie carefully takes your hands in hers.

“It’d be pretty hot, honestly,” Ellie murmured like she didn’t want her comment to be heard.

“Yeah, I thought so too,” you add on with a cheeky smile, nudging her shoulder.

Ellie’s entire face flushed at your words, releasing your hand as she muttered a soft ‘shut up’. You simply chuckled as you rested your head on her shoulder.

“Well, I’ll see you later at the campfire. I just wanted to give that to you before I forgot.” Ellie scratched behind your ear with a chuckle, moving on from her slight mistake.

“Mmm, I would take a shower first though,” you tease.

Ellie shook her head and scoffed.

“Really? After I gave you a gift?” She muttered as she leaned down to place her sweaty front side over your seated back.

You let out a string of groans and ‘get off’ before Ellie reluctantly lifted her body up and off of you. She stood up on her feet and nudged your leg with her Converse-covered feet.

“I’ll see you in a bit.” Ellie nodded before turning on her heels.

You sigh as you twiddle with the sweet gesture from the freckled girl. You silently watch her make her to her own cabin, probably wrangling for the children to quiet down so that she can do a headcount.

“Getting over her, huh?” You hear from behind you which causes you to nearly jump out of your skin.

Dina’s standing there with her arms folded across her chest, the wooden door behind her shutting softly.

“I don’t want to hear it, D,” you sigh as you stand up on the chipping blue wooden staircase.

Dina continuously tries to voice her opinion on how she feels but you make a noise of protest every time. She walks up to you and places both hands on your shoulders, forcing you to listen to her at this point.

“I just don’t know why you’re forcing yourself to fixate on Abby and why you don’t just tell Ellie how you feel.”

You’ve heard this twice now and you can’t help but feel like maybe they’re right. It’s high-risk, high-reward explaining how you feel to Ellie. You would give anything to know exactly how she felt about you so that you could ultimately just either push the crush away or finally open your mouth to tell her you want her more than you needed oxygen.

“You think I should?” You question curiously, your eyes pouring into Dina’s heartfelt ones.

“Yes. 99%” Dina replies.

You groan at her answer, trying to move away from her. She chuckles and shakes your shoulders to refocus your attention on her.

“I’m kidding. Seriously, 110%. I don’t think you see how Ellie looks at you, dude.” Dina emphasizes this with complete sincerity.

Steve’s words, too, echoed in your brain as you took in what Dina said to you.

“I’m just saying if I know flirting,” he leaned down to mutter to you, “and I think I do, she wants you just as badly as you want her. My personal opinion is to go for it.”

Should you? You were making your head hurt with the constant back and forth. Ellie was the lucky one. She had no idea what was going on in your head and this you were thankful for. The sun was setting and it was nearly time for the campfire.

You walked away from Dina with a pounding question in your head: Abby or Ellie?

tag-list: @abbyshands @ih8chickentenders @elliesprettygirl @justhereforinspopics @be3flow3r @hearts4joongie @plutolovesyou @bready101 @joanvisitsrome @elliewilliamssrealgf @hysteriawillnotsuccumb @shady-lemur @melanie-watermelon @elliescoolerwife @ucannotcompare @sakiigami @shalalala-sana @joordynn @ummlover @thisiscarlatrying @phattywithawham @mxquelo @kisssssessssssyj @xyaxyn @claymoreshaze @a-little-bit-of-everybody

[glitterforashes]

𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 ; 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

>>> sally fisher and larry johnson as per usual, fluff, comfort for sal, usual tomfooleries for larry, lake hc’s. enjoy!

𝐬𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫 —

doesn’t like to swim, just sits on the shore

will get in to about waist length if you ask nicely

hates being splashed. will immediately get back out

brings his gameboy in case he gets bored

usually only goes with you, larry, ash and todd. wont go alone or one on one with anyone.

doesn’t wear just swim trunks, wears a tshirt over them

refuses to get his hair wet like a little girl

burns. so bad. needs to be absolutely slathered in sunscreen to not go up in flames

“sally, get in the water! it’s so waaarm!” you whined at him, wading through the lake that was surprisingly clear. even if you went deep, you could still see your toes beneath the water. “no, i’m good.” he called back to you, face hidden behind his beloved gameboy. you, todd and ash all stood about waist length in the water, just wading around and talking. sally refused to get in, and larry had run back to ash’s car to get the cooler. something was clearly wrong with sally. usually he’d get in, even if it was only to his ankles. with a pout on your lips, you slicked your hair back and climbed out of the water, set on finding out what was bothering your beloved boy. you plopped down on the rickety lawn chair next to him, crossing one leg over the other and facing your body towards him, giving him your utmost attention. “what’s the matter, sal?” you asked softly, gently running your fingers against his pale arm. “nothing. just don’t feel like swimming today.” he mumbled, keeping focus solely on the game. you looked at him, studying his face. “sal, i know there’s something wrong. what’s bugging you?” his shoulders slumped as he sighed, lowering the game boy. he looked over at you, vulnerability in his eyes. “are you interested in todd?” he asked, searching your face. your eyes widened. “what? no. where did that come from?” “just.. you two have been spending a lot of time together. it’s okay if you don’t want to be with me anymore.” your shoulders slumped and you reached out, gently brushing a few strands of hair away from his face. “no, sally. you’re the only one i want. besides.. i’m pretty sure todd swings the other way, if you know what i mean.” sal chuckled a bit, seeming to loosen up. “yeah. okay. sorry, (y/n).” you shook your head and leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss against the cheek of his mask. “nothing to be sorry for, sally-wally.” your laugh echoed across the lake as he physically cringed, you could practically see his face through the mask. “please. never call me that again.” “okay, sally wally pooh.”

𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 —

wears big goofy goggles and swims down to the deep parts of the lake to find cool rocks for you.

religiously wears a goofy pair of duck print swim shorts.

ties his hair up in a bun, you love it.

REFUSES to wear sunscreen, always gets sunburnt. turns tan the next day, but complains about the sunburn until then.

likes it when you make sandwiches for him and bring them to the lake. tears them up. absolutely devours them.

sleeps on the ride back home.

likes going to the lake one on one with you, but will also go with the others.

likes to use water guns when the others are around.

“larry, please just put sunscreen on your shoulders if anything.” “no, (y/n)! sunscreen is for losers.” you hovered over him as he tugged goggles onto his face, heavily insistent on burning to a crisp. “sunscreen is not for losers, it’s for people who don’t want to get melanoma and look like a raisin by the age of twenty.” he huffed and spread his arms out finally, doing a little turn so you could coat all the visible parts of his body in sunscreen. luckily, it was the spray on kind, so his complaining was minimal. after that dramatic scene, you two were splashing about, scaring every fish within a ten mile radius. “larry! stop it, you’re getting water up my nose!” you screeched, coughing up and blowing out water from basically ever sinus you possibly could. he laughed as he bombarded you with comically large splashes, absolutely drenching your face and hair in the span of four seconds. that went on until you got close enough to grab a handful of his hair and shove his head under the water, effectively stopping his attacks and almost drowning him. you two went home soggy, tired, and hungry, collapsing onto his bed. lisa found you both hours later and snapped a picture. now, hanging on larry’s fridge is a candid shot of you and him, sprawled out across the bed, sheets wet, tangled in each others limbs. larry has his head at the foot of the bed and one of his legs hanging off the side, while you have your head resting against his abdomen and your legs propped up against the wall. however, the part lisa liked the most was the fact despite being asleep, you two had managed to find each others hands and interlock pinkies.

[tasmpetersgf]

Sunburn

TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: you refuse to put on sunscreen and end up with a bad sunburn

Word count: 637

“Come on baby, you need to put some sunscreen on,” Peter tells you while he slathers himself in some.

The two of you are currently on vacation at the beach, where it is super cloudy. You can’t even see the sun right now, let alone feel it’s warm rays on your skin.

You sit up from where you were laying on a towel, lifting your sunglasses up so you can look at Peter while you talk to him.

“I’m fine the suns not even out,” you tell your boyfriend. You lay back down and close your eyes, enjoying the calming sound of ocean waves. “I can’t even feel any heat or rays on my skin Petey. I’ll be fine.”

“Fine but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” Your boyfriend goes back to sitting underneath the umbrella while you spend the rest of the day laying on a towel, not underneath and umbrella and with no sunscreen on.

“Come on honey it’s time to go,” your boyfriend says, helping you up after a few hours. When he grabs your arm, you yelp.

“You okay?”

“Mhm,” you tell him, not wanting to let him know the real reason why you’re in pain.

“You sure baby?”

“Yep,” you say popping the p.

The two of you walk back to your rental house. The walk is short, but with your burns it feels agonizing.

Once the two of you make it back to the house, you quickly plop your stuff down and rush inside, excited to be able to sit down and not aggravate your burns.

You wince as you sit down, and at the same time your boyfriend walks through the front door. And of course he notices your wince, since he’s Spider-Man and has amazing hearing.

“Sounds like someone’s burnt.”

“I’m not,” you say indignantly. “My skin is perfectly fine.”

“Then why do you look like a lobster?”

“Well maybe that’s just my normal skin tone Peter.”

“Sure it is baby. So it wouldn’t hurt if I did this?” He asks, pressing a finger lightly into your arm.

You try to stop a cry from escaping your lips, but it comes out anyway

“Peterrrr,” you whine.

“I know it hurts baby but we need to put some aloe on that,” he says, trying to comfort you.

“Ok,” you grumble.

Peter walks down the hall and comes back with a bottle of aloe. He squirts some into his hand and gently touches your shoulder. You involuntarily wince, the light touch being too much for your delicate skin.

“I’m sorry baby. I know this hurts but you’ll feel better soon,” he says, being as gentle as he possibly can be with you. He rubs it into your shoulder and then moves on to the other one.

“Can you turn around for me? I wanna see if the backside of you is burnt.” You do as he asks and turn around so your back is facing him.

“It looks like the backside of you didn’t get burnt, just the front. Ok turn back around baby,” he tells you. You turn back around and he continues applying the aloe to your body until all of your burns are completely covered.

“Thank you Pete.”

“Of course baby. Anything for my little lobster,” he says giving you a kiss on the head. He carefully wraps his arms around you, avoiding your burns. You bury your head into his chest, laughing at the new nickname he just gave you.

“What you don’t like the nickname?” He’s teasing you and you know it. You pull your head out from his chest and look up at him.

“No Peter not really,” you say still laughing.

“Would you like my little crab instead?”

“I think that’s even worse Petey.”

“My little lobster it is then.”

“I guess it is.”

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟐   ❛ 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚 ❜   |   VARIOUS LOCATIONS, DECEMBER 1990

❧  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

   ❛  Leonor lay awake most of the night, but her mother visited the dream permitted by a fitful couple hours of sleep. This dream, hazy and running with color, was not quite a nightmare. Still, fear seized Leonor’s body—not as she is, but as she was. Safya lounged on the sand and watched while she called for her. ' Mama. Mama. Mama! ' The day was sunny and serene. Gently, the water moved around Leonor’s shoulders. Waves crashed inaudibly. The dream silenced everything except the sea breeze, her jackrabbiting heartbeat, and the child’s voice she did not recognize but understood to be her own. She wasn't afraid of going underwater. What she feared was how her mother’s unchanging and unseeing smile lingered even as she sank beneath the surface. Leonor awoke, her cheeks dry but salted, to cry again.

𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

❧ i've had a version of this drafted for months, but i revised it this week because i finally dreamt of my grandma. it was bittersweet. in a way, the fact that my past self envisioned this scene was prescient ... revisiting it now helped me. ♥️

Dreams had power in Uspana. Like caves, they possessed a thinness that allowed one to perceive, to touch, the underworld. Dreams took on a special power in death's aftermath. They carried messages. Relatives waited, mad with grief, to be visited in them by the lost. Some such dreams were fantastical journeys. Some were nightmares. Others meandered through ambiguity. Worse than any nightmare was no dream at all—to be abandoned, as it were. Leonor’s death dream came to her before her mother’s funeral. She could acknowledge it was a blessing to be contacted so soon, but the message was unclear. Through the haze that dreams became as they turned to memories, she recalled her mother’s indifference. It made her heart ache. Safya would have given her life for any of her children; they all believed that without reservation. Yet, had she not sat on the beach, massaging sunscreen into her skin, gazing out as her firstborn succumbed to a watery death?

Leonor squeezed her eyes shut as confusion burst into pain.

Mama had dreamed of drowning.

Mama had died in the water, struggling and spluttering and suffocating.

How would her mother, whose good faith was bottomless, have interpreted the dream? The better question was what she would have wanted to say. This was what Leonor contemplated as she held herself and shook with sobs. Although her dream self felt only abandonment and fear, she had gone to bed already caught in that undertow. The initial glimpse of her mother’s face gripped her heart, and in the dream she wanted to only watch her. Safya’s travel painting set was at her side. On her hand, she wore the first of several rings Rodrigo bought her. This one had been her favorite. Mateo played in the sand nearby, and Safya leapt to her feet periodically to slather him with her sunscreen. Gil was unborn, but he was there, too.

The details were like colors on a canvas, coming together as the portrait of a day Leonor remembered well. She recalled waving to her mother from the water. How adult she had felt, having been allowed to swim out so far by herself ! Safya usually denied the request. That day, she told her in no uncertain terms: “I trust you, but be safe.” Then Leonor was running, feet flying so fast that her heels barely sunk into the sand, arms out like a seagull's wings, laughing like mad, into the frothing surf.

“Mama. Mama. Mama!” she soon shouted with triumphant impatience.

Safya’s grin had been wide and toothy and anything but indifferent.

TRANSCRIPT:

[L] Mama?

[L] Mama! Please …

[L] Mama—!

[L] Mama!

{Sobbing}

[uselesssomebody]

𝕚: 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖 (when the world went to shit | pre! and post!outbreak joel miller x reader)

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

“𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕓𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤𝕟'𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕕,

𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕠𝕞” - last words of a shooting star | mitski

words || 𝟛.𝟟𝕜

series masterlist || when the world went to shit

summary || in which the reader can't seem to want to commit

a/n || i haven't posted in so long and when i finally do it's mitski inspired??

➵ i am so excited for this series i swear i've been planning it since april or something

➵ part of a series; check the masterlist ^!

➵ ask if you wanna be added to a taglist

➵ heed the warnings in said masterlist, this series is 18+

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || angst/smut

➵ unprotected sex

➵ piv sex

the texas sun was one that she was still not used to, despite having lived in austin for a few years. still having to slather a filmy amount of sunscreen on her skin, still having to wear a cap or glasses at all times to shield her poor eyes, and always waking up at the ass crack of dawn, when even the heavy-duty curtains she’d bought couldn’t quite block the sunlight from streaming onto her face, or lighting up her room to an unavoidable degree.

this morning was different. maybe it was the place where this guy’s house was constructed, compared to her own, but she was waking up - not to the sunlight practically smacking her poor, delicate eyes - but rather, to soft snores. she turns slightly, peeking an eye open to notice joel’s mouth hanging open as he breathes deeply. she turns back, looking at the bedside table. it was already 11, but it was a sunday, so she rested her head back on the worn pillows, yawning a little behind her hand. she had - as aforementioned - been forced to become an early riser, so the late morning was caused by her late night - with the tasty, very loud d.i.l.f. sleeping next to her. she smirks slightly at the memory of the previous night, and she bites her lip a little.

“fuck, joel-”

“that’s it, sweetheart, jus’ like that f’r me, you wanna be good f’r me?

her unabashed whines, his disgustingly well-chosen words, and his even-better mouth. his delicious accent, low and raspy in her ear, and - she was sure - her breathy, broken moans in his. she felt a stab of desire strike her core, and she turns back, weighing her options.

she could either let him continue to snore loud enough for her to not get back to sleep, or wake him up, and have some more fun. what’s a girl to choose?

whoever picked the latter, you get a cookie! and railed.

she turns her body fully to be facing him, feeling the warmth of his bicep and forearm graze against her stomach and breasts as she cuddles up to be glued to him. she brings her arm up to lazily splay over his bare torso. her finger play over his defined chest, and his soft tummy, not yet being bold enough to slip her fingers under the waist of the sweatpants he’d hastily put on as she’d begun drifting back to sleep bare, joining her afterwards.

“joel~” she says in a soft, sing-song tone. she places a soft kiss to his shoulder, gently playing with the hair on his chest, “wake up, c’mon.” she urges, just a touch more desperate.

he doesn’t even react.

she furrows a brow, now lightly poking at his chest, “joel? you gonna wake up, you old lug?” she teases. usually, he was quick to snap - or at least retort - to a comment like that, but the best he could currently muster was a louder snore.

she scoffs, getting up, and climbing on top of him, using her knees to avoid putting her weight fully on him. she cups his cheeks, really, really wanting to press a chaste kiss to his cheek, and then shout in his ear, but she’s not awarded the chance, as he wakes up - rather unceremoniously - at the feeling of her leaning over him. she giggles at his confused expression and squinted, groggy eyes, “good morning.”

“fff-” he grunts something garbled out, and she thinks it might be a curse, making her lean back, trying to suppress her smile.

“you’re a very graceful sleeper.” she teases, “you need me to pick up a prescription for snoring?” he finally opens one of his eyes, looking at her on top of him.

“aww, did i wake you, sweetheart?” he says in mock concern, rubbing his eyes.

“oh, you woke up a lot of things.” she murmurs softly, voice dropping a half-octave, gently rocking her hips over his in her position. he sighs softly, opening his eyes to look up at the bare ceiling.

“it’s early.” he complains, voice gruff and hoarse from the sleep.

“it’s 11.” she deadpans in response, “besides, a little mornin’ lovin’ is good for everyone, c’mon,” she urges softly. a smile tugs at his lips, making her beam, as his hands travel down to rest on her hips, gently slowing - but not stopping - her hips rocking.

“mornin’ lovin’. that ‘lovin’’ shit should stay a nighttime thing.” he mumbles, contradicting the soft squeeze his broad palms give the flesh of her hips.

“hmm, you think so? what happens if it goes past your bedtime, old man?” she teases softly, running her fingers over his stomach. he grunts, in exaggerated annoyance.

“it’s sexy at night. it’s cheesy in the mornin’.” he explains, and she leans down to kiss him to shut him up.

“that’s what makes it fun. besides sex in the morning’s sweet and sexy in the movies, so…” she reminds him.

“not my movies, sweetheart.” she laughs, guiding his hands at her hips to help her move a little faster.

“no, your life.” she corrects, playing with the hem of his sweatpants. he bites his lips.

“be quick, ‘kay, sweetheart? my girl’s gonna be home soon.” happy he’s given in, she raises her hips enough to pull the sweatpants down. she brings her hand back to gently palm him, now bare, as she leans down to kiss him.

“sir, yes, sir.” she says jokingly, but she raises a brow when she realizes that the way she says it made his cock harden in her hand, “ooh, that’s fun.” she whispers, nipping at his jaw. she positions herself on top of him properly, letting him hold her steady, while she uses one of her hands to guide him in. she breathes deeply, “still as big as last night.” she mumbles, making him smirk, bringing his thumb to her clit, making her bite her lip to keep from squeaking out a moan. she lets him rub her for a few more seconds, breathing out shakily at his slow touch, before sinking down on him, head falling forward as she places her hands on his chest to ground herself.

“there ya go, sweetheart, you’re getting better.” he teases, with an overtone of softness, rubbing her thighs as she adjusts to the stretch, “remember last night?” did she ever.

“too - too big, joel, stop-!” he slows down, pausing as he’s nearly bottomed out, leaning down to kiss her neck softly, hoping it’ll soothe her. more than that, her ability to now clutch him closer to her chest was definitely helping her feel better, and she breathed deeply.

“ready?” he asks quietly against her jaw, “wan’ me to pull ou’?” his words are muffled by the thick accent and her neck. she shakes her head.

“it’s okay.” she whispers, “you - you can go.”

“joe - joel-” she whimpers out airily, as she breathes through her nose.

“least you took it whole this time.” he continues, massaging the junction between her ass and back.

“yeah.” she agrees shakily, before inhaling sharply, clambering to begin rolling her hips. “fuck…” she moans out - not quietly - as she feels the cycle of emptiness and filling. her head falls forward as she struggles to move how she needs.

“can’t do it?” he mocks, the fake sympathy making her pout, as does the cocky smile on his face, “thought ya wanted it, sweetheart?” he chides, and she fights the urge to roll her eyes.

“shhh.” she says through gritted teeth, trying not to moan out too loud.

“hmm.” he hums softly, as if agreeing with her, “guess we’re stuck like this.” she wonders how he could be so casual right now, so, she asks him. he laughs, “why, ya boutta go crazy?” he teases. she bites her lip.

“you want me to beg.” it’s not a question. he shrugs, as if it were obvious. she sighs, squeezing her eyes at the sensation of him inside her, “please, please, help me, joel?” she asks with fluttering eyelashes, before remembering, “- or, sir?”

he growls, a satisfied smirk on his lips, before he grabs her hips, adjusting for more control. he fucks into her, slowly and gently at first, as she shudders and moans unabashedly at the sensation, “yeah, that what ya wanted, sweetheart?” he says, teeth gritted as he focused on his exertion - which became more apparent as his pace quickened and, proportionally, became more aggressive. she cries out, holding onto his biceps for any chance at grounding herself.

“joel!” she squeaks out, eyes wide, as she feels the knot in her stomach tighten desperately - hurtling towards orgasm, “joel - joel, joel-” it’s a mantra, and she squeezes her eyes shut, “gon-na c - cum-” she stutters out in a whimper, and a raspy, hoarse laugh leaves his lips, pace not faltering.

“g - good, sw - sweetheart, gotta do - do it with me-” his own voice betrays the sensations he’s feeling, and he pulls her head closer to him, breathing raggedly into her neck, placing the skin between his teeth as he feels her orgasm force her walls to squeeze around him and her body to shudder. a broken moan escapes her lips, right into his hair, and he squeezes her tightly to him as he reaches his own high, pulling out and finishing over her thighs. “fuck…” he breathes out airily, grip relieving around her as she pants against him.

she rolls off after a second, examining the damage on her thighs, “i - hah - i’m gonna use your shower.” she mumbles, clutching onto the bedpost for support as she shakily makes her way into the bathroom. joel watches her leave, smirking at her stride - akin to a newborn deer.

he can hear the water running behind the half-closed bathroom door, and a soft, satisfied sigh that leaves her lips as she steps under the showerhead. he looks back up at the popcorn ceiling, feeling lethargic and sleepy, which was not the best start for his day, but the view of her on top of him was worth it ten times over. he tries to remember, through his boozed memory, when he first met her - late last night.

the bar - his sanctuary - was practically empty, and he was sitting in a booth, sipping on a pint. sarah was at a friend’s house, and he wasn’t looking forward to the cheap grocery beer and leftover chinese takeout at him, ‘enjoyed’ with the soundtrack of some gameshow on t.v. he’d made the split second decision when he’d returned home to make the small trek to the bar just outside of the neighborhood, adjusting his eyes to the dim lights as he walks in. he greets the bartender - they’re friends - and that’s why he got his pint faster than the other guys waiting, even though he entered later. with a small grunt, he sits into ‘his’ booth, leaning back in comfort. it was near the back of the establishment, and he swore it had the most comfortable seats. he always sat here.

after a couple minutes of reflection - only broken by his sips or the occasional loud laugh of a patron - a woman approaches him, a recently-filled drink in her hand, “i was sitting here.” she says bluntly, making him look up at her behind the rim of his glass. he doesn’t say anything for a moment, taking a long swallow, before setting it down.

“pardon?” he asks quietly, and she immediately notices the familiar accent of a native. obviously.

“i said, ‘i was sitting here’. i just went to the bathroom. do you mind?” joel raises a brow, making an exaggerated show of looking around at all the other booths.

“ya don’t got other options?” he asks, though it seems more a statement.

“sure, but this one has-”

“- the comfiest seats?” he finishes for her, making her lips quirk into a smile,

“exactly.” he sighs.

“ya left it. whad’ya wan’ me to say?” he mumbles, taking another sip. she bites her lip, before shrugging.

“fine. i’ll just sit here too, then.” she responds definitively. true to her word, she slides in across from him in the booth, and he leans back, evidently not ecstatic at the turn of events.

“ya fr’m ‘round here, ma’am?” he finally asks, and she’s pretty sure it’s meant to hold the slightest implication of an insult.

“nope!” she responds proudly, hoping that’s the case, “and i’m hardly a ma’am.” she sighs.

“jus’ wanted t’be respectful.” he shrugs, but there’s a smirk that he hides under the rim of his pint.

“sure you did.” she grumbles back, sipping on her own drink.

“so, where do ya come from?” he’s not used to small talk, but for some reason, he’s curious.

“i’ve been in san jose the last few years.” he rolls his eyes a little.

“right. california. explains it.” she scoffs in indignance.

“hey! just ‘cause i’m not a redneck-”

“we ain’t rednecks, sweetheart.” she can feel a heat rise to her cheeks. sweetheart. that’s different.

“well, then. what are you?” she exhales, “or… i guess, who are you?” he takes another sip.

“joel.” she hesitates, before giving her name.

“sure you’re not a cowboy?” she teases.

“yeah, sweetheart. i’ve gotta horse, though.” her eyes widen, and she splutters.

“really?!”

“no.” her face falls.

“c’mon, man.” she grumbles, “that was mean.” he finally laughs.

“wan’ me to make it up ta ya?” she squares her shoulders, in faux offense.

“yes, please.” he smirks.

“good. c’mon, let’s get ya a drink.”

of course. one drink turned to a few. and that turned into a ‘i could hardly let you drive in this state’. that became a, ‘what if the taxi driver’s creepy?’, and that became making out in the back of said taxi.

poor driver.

he’s broken out of his thoughts by the sound of her stepping out of the shower, skin smattered in goosebumps as she looks for her clothes. finding them, she puts them on, before looking around the room a little awkwardly.

“uhm… guess i should be getting home?” she mumbles, and he notices the inflection of a question, like she’s waiting to be dismissed.

“hmm? yeah, go on. ya need a drive?” he asks, finally sitting up. she shakes her head.

“nope. i appreciate it.” she bites her lip, hesitating. how’re you supposed to say goodbye in this situation again? “i’ll see you around, joel.” she finally decides, and it immediately seems like the worst option.

he chuckles, and it embarrasses her further.

“yeah, sweetheart. see’ya ‘round.”

she doesn’t seem him around. at least not for the next three weeks. of course, why would she? she didn’t take down his number, his job, his… anything! all she had was his address - and she wasn’t a total fucking stalker. she sighs, relegating it to be one of the best - if not the best - one night stand she’ll ever have.

until she saw him again. at that same bar, in that same booth.

less words need to be exchanged this time. it’s lucky that he’s on the same page - he wants her.

it’s a few hours later, and she’s back in his sheets, chest against his side. he’s as warm and comfortable as she remembers. the house is as quiet as last time.

then it happens again. and again. and another time.

except, this time, the morning isn’t so quiet. she wakes up to the sound of a car pulling up. she wants to ignore it - presuming it’s a neighbor, until the front door opens. she sighs, poking at joel.

“are you expecting guests?” she asks softly, but he just doesn’t wake up, “joel!” she barks, and she laughs, at his shocked jolt up to awaken. he groans.

“the hell did ya do that f’r?” he grumbles, and she keeps giggling.

“someone’s come downstairs.” his eyes widen a little.

“oh. that’s my brother and daughter.” he immediately clarifies, and she hums. he looks over at her, “wanna meet them? can’t sneak you out at this point, so-” he begins to tease, and she swats at him.

“hey!” but she’s laughing a little, “yeah, sure. let me put some clothes on.”

a couple minutes later, joel comes down to greet the two who’ve just arrived. a few minutes later, she also comes down.

she’s his… friend, sarah, don’t worry.

tommy laughs at his brother’s explanation to sarah, and sticks his hand out for joel’s ‘friend’ to shake.

“nice to meet you. i’m tommy.”

“joel’s… brother?” she clarifies, shaking his hand. the two don’t look crazy similar, but then she sees how they interact. yup. definitely brothers. she introduces herself.

tommy and sarah like her.

mission success.

she’s coming over more and more. she meets sarah more and more. sarah really likes her.

and that’s when it starts to get real. the first time sarah asks for help with homework. joel just isn’t great with english homework, so she asks her father’s friend.

too real.

she wasn’t… ready for this kind of relationship. and since he had a kid, the moment she decided to commit, she’d have to give 110%.

and … what? she was just looking for a bit of fun! she couldn’t… oh, be a surrogate mother - she was a bad influence, for christ’s sake, as joel made sure to tease her about often enough.

and it’s a real shame. cause sarah’s a real sweetheart.

she’s sweating buckets when she’s slept over again. sarah’s at uncle tommy’s - his brother is also a sweetheart - and joel was jumping at the opportunity to invite her over

he’s making her breakfast. he’d never done that before. the most she’d ever gotten was coffee and - if sarah was there - some toast.

it smelled like eggs and bacon and sizzling fat, and her mouth watered.

but her stomach was queasy.

“what’re you doing?” she murmurs sleepily. he turns over lazily, pulling her to him to kiss the side of her head.

“what’s it look like?” usually she’d roll her eyes playfully. but she’s fidgeting with her knuckles. he notices. of course he does. “what’sa matter?” he asks, brow furrowing a little. she bites her lip.

“joel… where is this going?” he blinks in confusion, so she clarifies by pointing between the both of them. a smile stretches at his scruffy beard.

“know i shoulda done this sooner, but don’t always wanna jump the gun, what with sarah n’all. i wanna take you out, sweetheart. real date, real food. better than my shitty eggs.” he pokes fun at himself, but she doesn’t laugh. his smile drops. something must really be the matter. “you ‘lright, sweetheart? you mad this didn’t happen earlier?” he tries to coax and she swallows.

she’d just have to rip the bandaid off in one go.

“i don’t… think that’s a good idea.” she breathes out, and his lips curl into a confused scowl.

“huh?” she inhales sharply.

“i’m… not looking for a serious relationship.”

there’s a beat of silence.

another beat.

“did i do something?” he finally murmurs. a weird clench overtakes her heart.

“what? no - i just… have other things to focus on in my life right now. i’m… like - my career-”

she starts spluttering. it’s quite obvious that they’re excuses. joel wonders what he did wrong.

“you think i’ll hold ya back or somethin’, sweetheart?” he looks hurt.

“no - no, joel, it’s not about you…” he scoffs.

“then what is it, huh?” he sighs softly, running a hand through his hair. his scowl returns. angrier. “s’it sarah?” her face falls, and she looks away.

“joel, it’s not like that, i really care for sarah, she’s a great kid, it’s just-”

“you should go.” he mutters, and her stomach churns.

“joel, it’s not about sarah, you must understand how much more touchy commitment is when kids are in the mix-”

“you should go.” he repeats, voice gruff, but barely a whisper. she stares at him for a long moment, before grabbing her purse off the floor and rushing out of the door, feeling the disconcerting prickle in her eyes.

it’s a pain in the ass to get back home from his place. her bus ride is far too long - and worse, it’s decently packed, so she can’t even sulk and pout in peace.

why is she so upset? she broke up with him, dummy.

so why did she feel so… weird? her chest constricting, her stomach churning. she finally reaches her house after a short walk from the bus stop - far too cold a walk.

all she could bring herself to do at home was sit in front of the television, and the midday sun slowly set until the darkness of evening, forced her tired eyes to droop. they’d welled in tears intermittently throughout the day - when she’d remember the intensity of his passionate gaze, or the sensation of his scruffy beard cupped in her fingers. the tears were giving her a migraine, and she had to forcefully widen her eyes as she looked at the news broadcast on the t.v. later in the night.

though, as she paid attention to it, her eyes widened for an entirely different reason. the sounds of gunfire, combat and violence overshadow the newscasters voice, and her eyes trail over the graphic scenes shown on the broadcast.

she jumps out of her skin at the sound of screams outside the house - looking out to see people running around in the neighborhood. there’s a large crash in the yard, on her neighbor’s side of the fence, and she peers over in horror. seeing one of the… people? were they people?! wreaking havoc on her neighbor’s house, she gasps. but when one of them turn, and look straight at her with cold - lifeless eyes, she ducks back behind her couch. her eyes well with fearful tears as she feels overwhelmed by the sound of screaming and passing sirens.

after a moment - gunfire.

her eyes widen, and she rushes to barricade herself as best as she can, running up to her bathroom. out of the small window, she can make out distant explosions, fire, long traffic jams and…. chaos.

of course, that was the night that the world went to shit.

[crybaby-bkg]

As much as you love Bakugou, he can sometimes do or say little things that upset you more than he would think. Most of the times it’s not even meant to be directed to you, other times he’s upset within other factors, and you just so happen to be in the crossfire.

He says something to you before you guys are headed out to go to Denki’s pool party. It was snippy and a little rude, and it’s enough to make you huff and become silent for the remaining time in the house. He tries to ask you little questions on the car ride over to Denki’s, but you either one-word him, or just make a noise in acknowledgment. You let him hold your bare thigh, surprisingly, but he knows it’s only because you don’t feel like speaking to him to ask him to remove it.

But when you get there, you practically haul ass it to the pool, stopped abruptly by a big hand encircling your wrist. Bakugou pulls you back to where he sits on one of the beach chairs, looks at you from over his black tinted glasses with a frown,

“Oi, did you put on any sunscreen before we left?” He asks, eyes you up and down, tries not to ogle at the bathing suit you didn’t let him admire much before putting your bathing suit slip on in the house. You frown at him and answer quickly,

“Yea, ‘course I did.” But he can tell that you’re either lying or don’t remember by the way your brows furrowed and your eyes slightly wandered off in thought. He only huffs and tugs you a little harder until you’re forced to sit in front of him, legs splayed on either side of the chair as you place your hands down in between your bodies.

“No ya didn’t.” Bakugou grunts, before digging into your packed beach bag and pulls out the sunscreen. You don’t fight him on this either, just stick your arms out for him, move your hair when he lathers up your neck. He grabs your ankles in his hands and slathers your legs in the sunscreen, and as you watch him and his intense focus, you can’t help but love how gentle he is with you. How rough and powerful palms glide across your legs, how thick fingers knead the sunscreen into your thighs and the sole of your foot, even if you don’t need it there.

He tells you to turn around, and you do. You can hear him squirting more into his hands, looking around bashfully at how your friends all smile at the two of you, lovingly jealous at how he dotes over you. You have to bite back a smile when he finishes, and places a soft kiss on both of your shoulder blades, your nape, behind your ear.

When you stand, you go to tell him thank you, but he pulls you down once more. Warm palms encase your cheeks, and he’s slathering your face down in sunscreen next. He twists your cheeks this way and that, just to hear you grumble, which makes him chuckle under his breath. He brushes his thumbs across your brows, smooths his fingertips across your forehead, pats at your chin and the creases of your nose, before he calls that he’s finished.

He pecks at your lips once, twice, and you allow him, even kissing him back for one or two of the kisses. He pushes his glasses up into his hair, his shiny forehead that’s tinted white from the sunscreen damn near blinding you.

“Sorry I was being a dickhead to you. You didn’t deserve it.” Bakugou grumbles, blinks at you with those stupidly pretty eyes that show how sincere he is. You stare down at him for a while before you hum, leaning forward to capture his lips in one last kiss.

“Be mean to me again and I’ll bite your arm off.” You whisper against him with a smile, listening to his surprised laughter bubbling from out of him. He knocks his forehead against your own, grinning, and promises that he’ll bite off the other arm too, just to save you the trouble.

[writing-good-vibes]

misc. summer prompts (ft. bo and vincent)

ahhh another season has come and gone and i have very much enjoyed writing for you all again !! polaroids my beloved, how oftn you cropped up 📷 but to say goodbye to the summer, here are a few extra drabbles of my choice with my favourite, terrible twins.

bo (summer reading)

bo liked to read. a lot. and as the sun shone down, as fierce as ever on the Louisiana backwoods, bo hid away, like he always wanted to.

he's lay on the couch, thin curtains drawn to keep the heat at bay, and a dripping can of dr pepper on the coffee table. the book he's reading is second hand, something vincent picked up for him years ago from some yard sale in the city that he never got around to reading, with a cracked spine and already-dog-eared pages.

he flips a page absently, eyes quickly scanning the page before folding it back.

you're in the kitchen, making lunch. the room glows golden with sunlight as you finish up, cutting bo's sandwiches into quarters. you cut your own into halves.

making your way back into the family room, both plates in hand, bo is just turning another page.

"what are you reading?" you ask, placing his lunch down on the coffee table. you nudge his legs and he makes room for you to sit down.

his eyes don't leave the page. "stranger in a strange land," he drawls, turning another page.

you chuckle, "so much for 'light summer reading'." the book is long. longer than anything you've read, and bo's already a quarter of the way through.

"i been meanin' to get 'round to it," he half-mutters. "and there's no time like the present."

"i suppose," you shrug, taking a bite of your own sandwich. "maybe i should start on a book too."

"you could," bo agrees. he sits up to put his own book down, open on the coffee table. he picks up his plate, leaning back to balance it on his stomach while he eats. "i got plenty o' books lyin' around, sure you could find one you wanna read."

vincent (shade)

vincent was used to staying in the shade. or, more accurately, staying in the shadows. it was where he did his best work, after all, and where he felt safest. hidden away from the world with his talents the only part of him visible, displayed in the crumbling House of Wax.

it's a hot day, like most louisiana days are. on the worst days, vincent waited until the evening, when it was about as cool as it was going to get, to go down to the workshop, working even later into the night than he usually did.

this left you with long, hazy days with nothing much to do. bo was often busy, even during the scorching midday hours, or was happy enough to entertain himself with whichever book he was reading that week or in front of the tv with several macgyver reruns to keep him going. either way, you got vincent all to yourself.

even with the heat, vincent liked sleeping in. once more in shadow, with the curtains drawn and an arm slung over his face to block out the dregs of light. this you didn't mind, with a threadbare sheet slung low on both your hips and the prickle of sweat on your back making it easy to snooze way into the afternoon. his snores rumbled gently in his chest, right beneath your ear.

but then you liked to get your own way. dragging vincent into the sun if it was the last thing you did. usually he agreed, having no reason to deny you. he'd let you lead him out, one hand in his and a pitcher of lemonade in the other.

you slather is fairest skin with sunscreen and watch as his muscles flex beneath your fingers.

"you could do with getting some sun," you murmur.

"i like it in the shade; you bring enough sunshine for me."

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: allusions to sex, showering together (like literally just showering)

A/N: the pregnancy is probably not going to be a ton of chapters long just so everyone knows

Masterlist

Chapter 27

“I’m still not happy about this just so you know,” Spencer grumbled, slathering peanut butter onto a piece of bread.

“Oh hush up and finish making our sandwiches. Your daughter and pregnant wife want to go to the beach so we are going to the beach,” you stated.

“90% of seagull feces contains enterococcus which causes antibiotic resistance. Excuse me from trying to save you,” Spencer said.

“Fine, I promise to not even dunk all the way under water so there’s no way any seagull poop can get in my mouth and to the baby. Happy?” you asked.

“Very,” he smiled, pulling you in for a kiss with a jelly-covered slice of bread in his hand.

“Thank you for coming with us today. I know the beach really isn’t your scene,” you said after pulling away.

“Anywhere with my family is my scene,” Spencer replied.

-

“Jo! Sunscreen before anything else, please!” you called out to the little girl who was already making a break for the water as soon as you set your stuff down in the sand.

Spencer kicked his shoes off and took off after her, scooping her up in his arms which made Jo giggle in delight.

“Mommy, do I have to put it on? It’s sticky,” she whined.

“Ask Daddy why you need to put it on,” you said, setting up your beach chairs.

“Don’t make me put it on, please, Daddy,” Jo pouted.

You could see Spencer starting to cave at his daughter’s infamous puppy dog eyes.

“Spencer, do you want our child to get skin cancer?” you whispered-shouted which snapped him out of his trance.

“Sorry, Princess. We all have to put it on so we don’t get sunburnt. Trust me a little stickiness is better than a week of pain,” he kissed her head and took the bottle from your bag, squirting it into his hands and rubbing it on Jo.

“Now can we go in the water?” Jo pleaded.

“Yes, baby, let’s go,” you grabbed her hand, “Spence, you coming?”

Spencer cringed looking at the salty murky water in the distance but then looked at you and Jo eagerly awaiting his answer, “Fine,” he sighed, taking off his shirt.

“Everyone is coming swimming! Even brother or sister!” Jo cheered.

“Yes, even brother or sister is coming,” you smiled.

You and Jo both waded into the tide but Spencer was taking more hesitant steps.

“Y/N! Something just brushed up against my leg!” he squeaked.

“It was probably just seaweed, love. No fish come this close to the coast. Jo, go defend Daddy from the scary seaweed,” you grinned.

Jo, who had already dunked under the brisk water, walked back to where Spencer was only about knee deep and took his hand, guiding him out to about waist deep.

“Okay, I think I’m good here,” he insisted.

“Nice of you to join us,” you smiled, giving him a quick kiss to calm him down.

“Mommy, Daddy, look! I can do a handstand in the water!” Jo exclaimed.

“Woah!” you cheered as she came back up.

“Flawless,” Spencer clapped.

After Jo tired herself out swimming, you all got out of the water.

Spencer put his engineering PhD to good use by making a huge sandcastle with Jo.

“So, the guard tower is there. The drawbridge is going to be there and the castle will be in the middle,” Spencer started to plan it out in his head.

“Yes, that’s where the King, Queen, and Princess live,” Jo nodded.

“Okay architects, how about a lunch break?” you smiled.

-

When you finally returned home, Jo was out cold in the back seat wrapped in her beach towel.

“Should we just put her to bed and give her a bath in the morning? I don’t want to wake her up,” you whispered to Spencer.

He nodded, “I’ll just change her out of her bathing suit.”

-

“I need to take 20 deep-clean showers,” Spencer stated as he came into the bedroom after tucking Jo in.

“Care if I join?” you grinned.

“Can we actually get clean first before you try anything?” he pouted.

“Of course,” you kissed him, “I just want to reward my husband for braving the ocean today,” you kissed his neck, “...just wanna make you feel good, love.”

Spencer turned the water on and you both stripped off your bathing suits as you waited for the water to heat up.

As you stepped in, you grabbed Spencer’s shampoo before he could reach for it and squirted some into your hands.

“Lean down please,” you whispered.

Spencer sighed happily as you washed his curly hair and the sand washed away down the drain.

“Rinse,” you said, cupping your hand over the front of his face to avoid any suds getting in his eyes.

Spencer was just as quick to return the favor, lathering your hair with suds and massaging your scalp.

“Lean back,” Spencer gently brushed your hair with his fingers to get all the shampoo out.

While you let your conditioner sit, Spencer pulled you close, hugging you tightly.

“I love you,” he spoke.

“I love you too,” you hummed, feeling utter bliss in the steamy room, enclosed in Spencer’s loving embrace.

-

Spencer had a whole satchel full of parenting and pregnancy books with him at the doorway while you were finishing your bagel.

“You know they don’t test you there, right?” you asked.

“I just want to be prepared. I even brought a journal to write stuff down in case I get overwhelmed and can’t remember,” he stated.

“You’re too sweet,” you popped the last bite of bagel into your mouth and grabbed his hand, “Let’s go.”

-

You noticed now that you were pregnant, Spencer had to constantly have some form of contact with you in public. Either an arm wrapped around your waist or holding hands or a hand on the belly. He didn’t want to be separated from you at all.

So that’s why when you were 20 minutes early to your first ultrasound appointment (due to Spencer’s insistence) and the only two available chairs in the waiting room were across the room from each other, Spencer looked at you panickedly.

“You sit,” he said, guiding you to one of the chairs.

Since there were people on both sides of you, he couldn’t really stand next to you so he took a seat on the thinly carpeted floor right in front of you.

“I love you,” you bent down to kiss him, “We can switch if it gets too uncomfortable down there.”

“You must be out of your mind if you think I’m going to let my wife let alone pregnant wife sit on the floor for my comfort’s sake,” he smiled back.

-

“You are indeed pregnant,” Dr. Collins, your obstetrician, informed you.

Spencer smiled so brightly as he pulled you in for another kiss.

“You checked off this is not your first pregnancy so I don’t need to go over the basics that I tell first-timer parents?” she asked.

You looked at Spencer guiltily and then back to Dr. Collins, “Um, could you just go over it again? I probably need a refresher.”

“Of course,” she smiled.

Spencer squeezed your hand as a way to thank you silently.

taglist: (ask to be added or removed!) @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner

[yikesharringrove]

Show Pony

Chapter one - Big Sky

Also on Ao3

Billy doesn’t give a fuck about the rodeo. 

He doesn’t care about country music, or fancy horse riding, or the beauty queens, even the bull riders. 

What he does give a fuck about it not being in his house today. 

Not when his dad was obviously itching to pick a fight. Not when Max gave him such an easy out over breakfast. 

“I saw a flyer for a rodeo. I think it’d be kinda neat.”

It was in town for four more weeks. 

And Billy could tell the second he and Max bought tickets, he was about to be spending more time than he ever fuckin’ thought he would spend at a rodeo. 

He based that on the way Max’s eyes lit up the second she stepped inside the big fairgrounds. 

Not knowing that he was right. He was about to spend a lot of time at the rodeo. 

But not for Max. 

For himself. 

And a pretty horse rider named Steve.

He didn’t see Steve that first day. 

Was too busy shelling out his own hard-earned cash to buy Max sugary funnel cakes. Sitting next to her watching the poor suckers get bucked off their pissed-off bull. 

But when Max was in the car she turned to him, the sun setting outside, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“Can we come back tomorrow?”

And the tickets were dirt cheap. And Billy hates being at home. 

So they did. 

And they watched the rodeo queens. 

And the team-roping. 

But it wasn’t until the calf roping that Billy felt his heart sink. 

Because he thinks Steve Harrington might be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. 

Tall and broad, smiling like sunshine at his gorgeous black quarter horse, patting her strong neck and leading her to the entry point of the arena. 

His name was loudly announced after the event name. 

Calf roping, with our very own Steve Harrington! Steve will navigate his beautiful June into the arena, trying to rope and tie down a calf as quickly as possible!

Billy had tuned out everything but his name. 

Leaning forward on his bench seat to watch him lead June up to the starting line, give her a few more pats before swinging one leg up, heaving himself up and over her back, settling into the saddle with a grace Billy doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to describe. 

Steve appeared to shake himself out, leaning forward over June’s neck to speak quietly to the sleek horse, wiggling his hips a bit in the saddle. 

And then he sat back up, readying himself and waiting for the countdown. 

He was off like a fucking shot. 

Billy’s never seen anything fucking like it. 

June kicked up dirt as she thundered through the arena behind a small herd of a few calves, Steve ducked low against her neck as he led her forward, his lips moving as he spoke quietly to her, egging her on and forward. He was clinging to her for dear life, his legs straining as he was tossed up and down in the saddle. 

And then he let go of her reins, one hand reaching for the rope on his belt. 

And it was the most hick shit he’s ever seen. 

This flannel-wearing cowboy on his perfect fucking horse, roping a baby fucking cow. 

He slipped the knot around it from his perch on the moving horse, lassoing it easily like that was a common skill, and with a fluid practiced movement, he tossed himself off the slowing horse, getting on one knee to tip over the calf and tie it up like it was second nature. 

And maybe it was. Performing in a show like this. 

That’s all it was, a performance. Practiced and rehearsed over and over for Steve and June. 

It was over in a blink, Steve tossing his hands up to show he was finished, and the calf didn’t break its bonds. 

The whistle blew and Steve’s time was read to the arena. Nine seconds. And apparently, nine seconds was a good time, judging by the way Steve’s raised his fists in the air, and patted June’s neck so gently. 

He mounted back on his gorgeous horse as the calf he had roped was released by a few of the rodeo workers and the next guy took his position at the starting line. 

Steve did a lap around the arena of June’s back, smiling and waving to the crowd. 

And maybe Billy just has an overactive imagination. 

Maybe his stupid gay brain was looking for something not there. 

But he could’ve sworn he saw Steve grin just a little bit brighter in his direction. 

There were a few riders after him. Competing to earn a faster score on the same track. 

But Billy didn’t give a fuck about calf roping if he wasn’t watching Steve and June. 

The sun was setting as Billy finally led Max out of the fairgrounds, one hand on the top of her head, steering her towards the Camaro. 

“So, you think we can come back next weekend” Max was giving him a big shit-eating grin, powdered sugar all done her front from the final funnel cake Billy had shelled out to buy her. 

“Don’t see why not. Get’s us outta the fuckin’ house, don’t it.”

“Plus, there are lots of good-looking cowboys, just everywhere. Did you see the guy doing the cattle roping, or whatever? He was cute .” Billy rolled his eyes. Max was just touching the age when she stopped thinking of boys as gross, saw them as cute, and whatever else she said. It also made her realize that having a gay brother apparently meant talking about nothing but boys. It made Billy wanna slam his head into the steering wheel. He grunted in response as she kept going on and on about Steve. 

Like Billy didn’t see the way his thighs gripped the sides of his horse, like he didn’t watch as he hurled himself off June to tie up the fucking calf. Like he didn’t watch him take that fucking victory lap, shit-eating grin looking like home on his pretty fucking face. 

“You gotta carry your own weight, you know that, right Shitbird? I’m talking, pay for your own damn fried shit.” He bets Susan would give him money for tickets if he acts real nice this week. 

He can’t blow all his savings at the fucking rodeo of all things this summer. He’s got plans for the wad of cash burning a hole in the shoebox in the back of his closet. 

Max huffed at him. 

“What am I supposed to do? Get a job? I’m thirteen .”

“So? Babysit or some shit. Rob an ATM. Fuck if I care. Just quit stealing all ‘a my goddamn cash for your fuckin’ funnel cakes .”

“You’re just pissed off because you didn’t try one. They’re the best. You gotta have one next week.”

“I, unlike you, care about what I put in my body.”

“Yeah, because cigarettes and beer are so much better than fried dough .”

“Whatever.” The truth is, Billy’s gotta watch what he eats. Max didn’t know him when he was prepubescent and chubby. He can’t be sitting there shoving funnel cakes in his mouth and not expect it to all go to his gut. Not like her. There’s not an ounce of fucking baby fat on her. She’s positively scrawny. If anything, the funnel cake might help her out a bit. 

“Yeah, whatever .” She huffed, slumping back in her passenger seat. “But can we come back?”

“Fuck, if you keep askin’ me, the answer’s no .”

She huffed again. She does that a whole lot when they talk. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it. I saw the way you were watching Steve race. You were practically drooling .” 

Billy clenched his jaw. 

“Was not .”

“Was too .” 

And Max had a knack of leading Billy into moments like this, childish little arguments that made him feel kinda weird inside. Made him feel kinda warm at how sibling it was. Like they hadn’t been forced together just a few years ago. 

For all his bitching, he really did like the little spit. If he didn’t, he’d be a bigger asshole than she’s always accusing him of being. 

“You don’t even know what I look like when I’m really eyeing a boy, if you think that was it. Just, you know. Respected his riding.”

“ Respected his riding. Yeah ‘cause you wish he was riding-”

“Finish that sentence and I’m pushing you out of the fucking car.”

“I’m right, though.”

Billy just reached forward to turn up the radio, letting Dee Snider drown out any other awful shit Max wanted to say to him. 

Which was probably showing his hand too much. No direct answer pretty much means affirmative when it comes to Billy. And yeah, Max knows that. Judging by the way she’s cackling like a goddamn gremlin over the sound of the music. 

He just pressed his foot down further on the gas pedal, letting them fly down the highway. 

And he thought about Steve and June, thought about how fast Steve could press that girl to go. Thought about him leaning forward, flattening himself to the horse’s neck, gripping onto the reins and urging her forward, urging her faster. 

And if he thought about those strong legs wrapped around him, if he thought about what Max was about to say, Steve riding Billy like he would that fucking horse, his hips flexing as he bounces up and down, well, that’s his business. 

And the next Saturday, Susan slid him a crisp twenty-dollar bill to buy Max some lunch at the rodeo. 

They took it more seriously this time, bringing water bottles, and Max slathering thick white sunscreen on her freckled skin. 

Billy even wore shorts, some old jeans he sacrificed to the summer gods when he wore holes in the thighs and chopped pretty much in half. 

And it was kinda fun. 

He knew what to expect now. Knew the barrel racing was all women, all beautiful horses winding their way along clover-shaped tracks. He knew that the bull riding was a little more fun to watch with a shot in him, and that his fake i.d. could get him an alcohol wristband from the tent at the front.

Max sneered at him when he bought himself a beer later in the day. 

“Uh, you know you have to drive me home, right? Like, and not crash your stupid car on the way home.” 

“Fuck off. It’s one beer.”

“And also that shot earlier, and I know you have a flask.”

“Okay, what are you, the cops? I’m just tryna enjoy myself in this blistering fucking heat. I don’t exactly get my rocks off to any of this shit.” Which is a lie. He’s totally sold on every stupid fucking event at the motherfucking rodeo. 

“Fine. You wanna get stupid and drunk? Then you have to take me to the pageant. I wanna watch it.”

“Since fucking when do you give a shit about the pageant .” Max glared at him. Her nose was beginning to get red. 

Maybe if Billy were less of a shithead he would tell her to put some sunscreen on. But she was really testing his patience today. 

And then her eyes went huge, and her jaw went slack, and Billy was just about to tell her to close it and quit lookin’ like a dead fuckin’ fish when he heard someone cough slightly behind him. 

And when he turned, he almost made the exact same stupid dead fish face as Max. 

Because gorgeous cowboy Steve was standing right in front of him. In another cracker of a flannel shirt, stupid blue jeans, and fucking cowboy boots, because yeah. He’s a goddamn hick that rides a horse and ties up calves in a traveling rodeo for a fucking living. 

And God save Billy, because hot damn. 

Steve had an easy smile on his face, a little bit lopsided, and perfect white teeth showing between perfect pink lips. 

“Hey there.”

“Howdy,” Billy responded before he could stop himself, his face burning up. 

He was hoping he was already sweaty enough Steve wouldn’t notice the flush. 

But thankfully, Steve’s smile went wider, and he laughed, this gorgeous bright laugh, his head tossing back, and that thick hair flowing easily. 

He had gold streaks in his hair, lighter browns tussled within the darker colors. Billy wondered if they were natural, days spent out in the sun on his horse. Part of him hoped they weren’t. Part of him hoped that Steve was that intentional with himself and his goddamn hair. 

He smiled at Billy. 

“I’m Steve.”

“We saw you. Last weekend,” Max blurted out before Billy could kick her. She looked shocked that she had even spoken when Billy turned to give her a death glare. But Steve just laughed his gorgeous laugh again. 

“And what’d you think?”

“She wouldn’t shut up about you on the way home.” And Steve was back to looking at Billy, and his eyes are so fucking big, like, who’s eyes are just. Like that. Just fuckin’. Big. 

“And what about you, uh-”

“Billy. And this is Max. My sister.”

“Well, Billy,” and fuck Billy nearly creamed himself at the sound of Steve saying his name. “Did you like my display of talents ?”

“Could say so. I don’t give too many shits about all this hick farm stuff. But I can respect it.”

“Well, that’s alright then.” And Steve reached out to pat Billy once on the shoulder. “I hope I see y’all around. I gotta head off, June needs some TLC before our time.” He smiled at Max, and her already red face flushed deeper, almost blending into the roots of her flaming hair. 

And then he doubled back. 

“You know what, I forgot why I came over here in the first place.” He was digging through his jeans, rummaging around in his back pockets. 

Billy wanted to slide his hands in there, cop a feel while he helped Steve look for whatever he was going to offer Billy. 

And then Steve brought out two white wristbands. 

“They’re for, uh, VIP seating and stuff. If you’re interested. Gets you closer to the arena. That way I can just see what you look like after I’m comin’ off a ride.”

Hoo boy. 

This little cowboy has some fucking charm. 

And he knows it too, judging by his smug little half-smile he gave Billy while he fastened the wristband around his wrist. 

He helped Max with hers, doing it faster than he had Billy’s, and with a lot less eye contact, which was a good sign. He’s not perving on his twelve-year-old sister. Which is cool. 

And then he was looking back at Billy, and brushing his long fingers over the tops of Billy’s shoulders, his arms out in his shirt, the arms torn off an old Aerosmith t-shirt he found at the Goodwill last year. 

“You should reapply sunblock. Don’t want you burning now.” And Billy’s sure if Steve was wearing a Stetson, he woulda tipped it at them. “Enjoy the pageant.”

And he was off, and Christ, those jeans. How did Steve even successfully ride his horse in those things? They were so tight, showed off his nice peachy ass as he walked through the fairgrounds. 

“Wow,” Max said. And yeah, Billy felt the same. 

“In case it wasn’t clear, based on the way he was flirting with me, and also that he’s way too old for you, but, uh, dibs .”

“Billy, you can’t just call dibs on a person.” Billy just laughed. 

He knows that his twelve-year-old fucking sister doesn’t have a shot in Hell with Steve. Really, he doubts he even has a shot in Hell with Steve, but he also likes to spend his time making her life as difficult as possible without actually being a shitty person. So, he just riles her up. Says shit that’ll get her going. He wouldn’t be doing his brotherly duties if he didn’t say that shit. 

Max calls it even by kicking him in the shin twice and making him watch the stupid beauty pageant. 

Which, like, why the fuck are there beauty pageants at the rodeo anyway? 

Turns out it wasn’t pageant at all, but the four previous Miss Rodeo’s all lined up and looking far too glammed out for this fucking heat. 

Max faked being disgruntled by the disappointment, but Billy knows, somewhere inside that tough bitch little soul of hers, she’s glad she didn’t have to sit through a goddamn pageant just to make Billy miserable. 

Besides, Billy had whipped out his flask a few times, and he was feeling alright. Just buzzed enough that the heat had stopped making him feel quite so disgusting. 

But not too drunk to miss calf roping. 

And yeah, maybe it was a little bit lame to make their way over to the VIP seating earlier enough that they scored the front row. But when Steve came trotting out, leading June behind him, Billy was close enough he could pick out the cluster of moles on Steve’s left cheek. 

So, lame was not in Billy’s vocabulary today. 

It was pretty much the same thing as last week. Steve made everyone in the arena ooh and aah with his riding, tied up the calf in less than ten seconds once again. 

But this time, when he took that jaunty little lap around the small arena, Billy knows for a fact Steve grinned at him. Knows his stupid gay brain wasn’t making up the wink he tossed effortlessly in Billy’s direction. 

And they left, just like last weekend, as the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. 

“Just, c’mon. Mom gave you money .” Max was whining for a corn dog, of all things. When they have perfectly good, not fried food, at home. 

“Maxine, I swear to Christ, I’m fucking tired. Let’s go home so I can crash, and you can fucking drive Susan up the goddamn wall with your whining.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem too bad.” And Billy felt his insides curdling at that voice, felt himself wilting and shriveling because he would not be getting out of this day without one final, no doubt embarrassing, encounter with his gorgeous cowboy. 

Steve was leaning against a booth selling chili fries, looking like a perfect picture of a Clint Eastwood movie. 

Billy had never liked westerns. 

But he was gonna go home and spend all night watching every one he could get his grubby little hands on. 

Steve pushed off the side of the booth as Max found her words again. 

“You don’t have to live with him.”

“And you don’t have to live with my folks. I’d trade you any day.” 

And Billy nearly died. Right there. On the spot. Because. Holy shit. I’d trade you any day. 

Billy was more than happy to follow this fucking hick around America, watch him ride his pretty horse before fucking him against the stable wall. 

Or whatever. Do they have stables? Billy doesn’t know how a traveling rodeo works. 

But like, they’ve gotta have stables, right?

“Nah, you’d get sick of him. He stinks.”

“Have you ever smelled horse shit? Because that’s the fragrance I wake up to every morning.”

And Max was laughing, and Steve was laughing, and Billy was trying to keep his hands as casually as possible in front of his slight chub. 

“Will I get the privilege of seeing you two again?” And what a way to word it? The privilege. And then Steve was looking Billy up and down, and he was biting that perfect bottom lip and opening his mouth and “I could always give you my phone number. So we can. Meet up. Next time you’re here.”

“‘Course. You can give us the grand tour.”

And Steve was digging in those tight back pockets again, and shoving his phone into Billy’s hand, and he doesn’t have a passcode, but his home screen was a picture of him and his fucking horse which is, just about the sweetest thing Billy’s ever seen. 

And Billy put himself in as Billy Hargrove , and then panicked because Steve doesn’t know his fucking last name. So he settled for Billy and then for good measure shoved San Diego after it because. Billy’s a common name, okay?

And Steve took his non-password protected fuckin’ horse girl phone, and Billy was giving him as charming a smile as he could muster with sweat on his upper lip and saying-

“You better text me, Pretty Boy. So I can save your number.” Billy shrugged, looking off to his left to try and seem. Nonchalant. “In case I wanna see you again.” 

And Max was rolling her eyes, but she wasn’t stopping away. Wasn’t even whining at Billy, no doubt on her best behavior in front of hot cowboy Steve. 

But Steve had a glint in his eye, and if Max wasn’t here Billy would be playing this all different, laying on the charm a lot thicker than he was. 

But he can’t be a horny bastard in front of her. That’s just, like, gross. 

So he settles for making a real show of licking his bottom lip, and maybe flexing his bare arms just a tiny bit. 

“We should probably get goin’. Got a curfew for this one,” Billy jerked his head in Max’s direction. She huffed before she could stop herself. “See you around, Cowboy Steve.”

And Steve gave another one of his pretty ringing laughs. 

“Come again soon, Billy and Max.” And again, Billy’s sure that if Steve were wearing a hat, he would’ve flicked the brim at them as he set off back into the rodeo, dodgin off the main thoroughfare. 

“Wow. That was embarrassing for you.” 

Billy whipped his head around to stare at Max, giving her the most disgusted look he could muster. 

“The fuck you mean?”

“You were so obvious.”

“That’s the fucking point . We were flirting. It’s supposed to be obvious, you demon.” Billy shoved her once before stomping in the direction of the parking lot. 

“Yeah but you were like, making these faces at him.”

“Shut the fuck up. I know what I was doing, okay? It was all very calculated . Let him know I’m down for it, and if he texts, then I’m good to go. If not, then I move on.”

And the thought of Steve not texting was kinda, disappointing. Because Billy really wanted him to text. He wanted to stay up late giggling at his phone and the dumb things Steve texts him and pretend they don’t make him flush like a fucking school girl. 

He pointedly didn’t look at his notification when he reached the car, just shoved an old tape in and turned up Black Sabbath when Max wrinkled her nose at it. 

They were both quiet on the drive back home. Something heavy unsaid between them. 

And only as Billy was pulling into his spot in the driveway did Max suck in a big breath to actually put it out there. 

“I won’t tell. About him. Not even Mom. Not even that I think he’s cool.”

“Thanks. Easier just to. Avoid at all costs.” 

And if Billy were a better person, maybe he would hug her or something. 

But they don’t do that. Instead he sighed and didn’t hip check her violently off the porch like his instincts were telling him. So really, he’s a fucking saint. 

[djarinova]

tobio kageyama x gn! reader

prompt: "is there a reason you're blushing like that?"

info: beach day with the team, no warnings, short + sweet, idk the idea just came to me and I wrote it really fast bc he's so cute and ilh <3

words: 700

It wasn't very often that you managed to convince your boyfriend to go to the beach with you. Not that you could blame him, most of his days off he was too tired to do anything more than cuddle and watch movies with you. Usually falling asleep with his head buried in the crook of your neck before you were even 15 minutes in. So this morning when you had half heartedly asked Tobio if he wanted to go to the beach with you, you had been surprised when he had agreed. You had told him to be ready within the hour, and so you had subsequently spent almost 50 minutes running around and gathering everything you would need for the day. Somehow you also managed to text some of the other Karasuno members to let them know about your plans, and to see if they wanted to join the two of you.

When you first arrived you silently thanked whatever higher power had ensured the beach to be near empty. You'd been worried that your large-ish and fairly loud group would be a nuisance to those around you. But you needn't have worried. You had been the first to arrive, along with Kageyama. The others trickling in throughout the next hour or so, until eventually everyone had arrived. Once everyone had settled, having placed down their towels and slathering themselves in sunscreen (upon your request). Hinata had yelled out, announcing that everyone had to go swim in the sea immediately. Which about half of the team had taken as an invitation to race as fast as they could down the beach. You had been slightly slower than the rest, apparently missing the memo that it was a race. You sat up now, watching as they almost tripped over their own feet, chuckling as Nishinoya shouted “rolling thunder” as he toppled over, head first.

“Are you coming?” Kageyama asked. You glanced up at him, his hand was extended out to you and you gladly took it. Pulling yourself up towards him.

“Hang on, one sec.” You reply, letting go of Kageyama’s hand. You slipped off your cover up, placing it on your towel, leaving you in just your swimsuit.

Turning back towards your boyfriend, you grinned when you noticed the light tint of red on his cheeks. He was nervously fiddling with his hands, as if trying to distract himself from looking at you. You raised your eyebrows, deciding to tease him. Just a little bit.

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” You ask, moving to stand in front of him, ensuring that his eyes were on you.

“Wh- what? I'm not, shut up.” Kageyama stuttered. Turning away from you again, and fixing his gaze on the sea instead.

“Oh really?” You smile, moving once again to stand in front of him. “You're allowed to look at me, you know.”

“Pft. Yeah I know.” Kageyama huffed, his gaze flickering between your face and just behind your shoulder.

“O-kaay.” You drag out the last syllable. “Look at me then.”

Using one of your hands you gently cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. He blinks, before slowly turning his face towards yours, finally looking you in the eye. You grin, noticing that his blush had deepened.

“C’mon.” You release his face, grabbing his hand instead. You drag him along behind you, half jogging and half skipping towards the sea. He almost loses his footing at your speed, stumbling over his own feet, only managing to stay up right because of your tight grip on his hand.

You can't help but let out a small chuckle, stopping to watch as Kageyama rights himself, your hand slipping out of his grasp as you do so. He glares at you, albeit with no malice in his eyes, as you grin widely at him.

“You okay baby?” You tease him, the smile on your face growing even wider. You reach towards Kageyama, squeezing his hand, watching him as he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yes, I'm fine.” He pauses. “Thank you for saving me.”

“You're very welcome. Now c’mon, clumsy.”

[funtimebunnyblog]

Could you possibly do a scenario for the pillar men and a s/o who’s extremely pale? I can’t go out into the sun for more then 10 minutes without being close to sunburn. I usually feel a little insecure about how my skin in because you can see bright blue veins on my wrists and arms and stuff. It looks freaky to me.

Oh Anon ❤❤❤

Let me assure you that the Pillarmen wouldn't be happy to hear you aren't comfortable in your own skin (no pun intended, of course!). Pale or not, they would be absolutely over the moon for you 🥰🥰🥰 In the meantime, let me show you how much they love you.

Pillarmen with an s/o who is extremely pale and burns in the sun easily...

(Under the cut for length)

Kars:

• Kars was very fair skinned himself; he always had been.

• However, he never had the fear of burning to a crisp in the sunshine (well, not anymore) like any Human.

• Being very knowledgeable on your race, he was very mindful of your fragile needs, specifically your skins needs.

• He was always happy to help you apply some sunscreen on your back if you asked him to or carry some around wherever you both went.

• However, he never actually seen you burn.

• That was, until one day...

• You had left early in the morning, claiming you wanted to get some fresh early Summer air by going for a little jog.

• Kars had some work to do upstairs in his study, bidding you goodbye and losing himself in his piles of paperwork as he scribbled away.

• You had barely been gone an hour, the sounds of your footsteps pulling his attention from his work for the briefest moment but he paid little to no mind to your early return.

• The door to his study creaked open and your voice was next to hit his ears.

• "Kars?" "Hmm, so soon, beloved? How was your--" He turned in his chair to face you, his words suddenly getting caught in his throat. He nearly dropped the handful of papers he was clutching at the sight he was met with.

• There you stood in the doorway, sheepishly tapping your fingers together as you struggled to meet his gaze. You knew very well what he was gawking at.

• "Do you-- uh... know where the Aloe Vera is?" Came the hesitant question.

• Dressed in a joggers tank-top and shorts, every inch of your visible skin was near to an angry red.

• It was as if someone had rubbed you raw with sandpaper from head to toe and just from the way you were standing he could easily tell that you were starting to feel just as raw.

• "Goodness, gracious!" He cried, ruby eyes burning holes into you as he got up from his chair, marching straight up to you. "What on Earth happened?!"

• You frowned, curling in on yourself stiffly, letting out a pathetic laugh. "I... uh... forgot to put on sunscreen before I left..." you explained, the red in your cheeks blooming with more than a burn from the sun. "I didn't realize it would be so hot out today..."

• Kars blinked once, looking you up and down with tight lips.

• He wasn't even touching you and he could feel the heat radiating off your irritated skin.

• Several painful moments later... you were seated in the bathroom, devoid of clothing.

• You were already so sore that getting your clothes off had been nothing but a painful struggle with you whimpering the whole way as the massive Pillarman tried his absolute best to be as ginger with you as possible.

• He had even briefly considered just cutting your clothes off with his brilliant bone blade to spare you the agony.

• Every line of where your clothing began and ended was laid bare, leaving you looking very awkward with the blotches of crimson skin gracing your pale, white body.

• You were quite lucky Kars was blessed with the ability to heal but still, you flinched every time his huge hands graced your raw skin as he worked his magic.

• By the time he was done you were only a little more pink in hue than usual; it was almost like a weak farmers tan.

• He assured you, however, that you would be back to your normal palor in a day at best

• He also made sure to take extra care to apply a generous coat of moisturizer to your skin too.

• "There." He sighed, carding a hand gently through your hair as he planted a kiss on your temple. "Please dear one, I beg of you to try and be more careful next time."

• Ironically, through all the time he had known and loved you, one of his affectionate nicknames for you was his "ray of sunshine".

• He was starting to think that perhaps it was better to reconsider and start calling you his "starlight" from now on...

Esidisi:

• For a man whose domain lied with heat, he was always more than careful to be sure you didn't get burned.

• Sometimes he playfully teased you about how very pale you were, often during the times when you were complaining about your palor, but you knew very well he adored you and your skin.

• He often compared you to a work of art; a beautiful statue of white marble. He deemed it fitting, as marble had remarkable and beautiful veins etched into its stone much like you.

• Many a morning you woke up giggling as he trailed soft, warm kisses along your milky skin.

• Once, you came inside after spending the afternoon out in the garden and immediately he noticed a pink tinging the skin on your back and shoulders.

• You hadn't gotten burned badly but it was still a burn no less. You had put on sunscreen but alas, you had forgotten to reapply...

• "Ow!" You jumped a little, you hadn't really realized you had gotten burned until he curiously poked you where it was sore.

• He retracted his hand when you cried out as if you were the one who burned him, tears noticably welling up in his eyes as your genuine pain sunk into his heart.

• "Oh, did that hurt? Oh my beautiful little flame, I'm so sorry." He breathed, he held back from hugging you (as much as he wanted to in that moment) and causing you further pain. "You've burned yourself."

• You really hadn't been exaggerating when you told him that you had the tendency to burn easily.

• Minutes later, you were seated in the kitchen, your top removed, with your Husband the Pillarman lovingly tending to your sunburn.

• You could tell he went the extra mile to diminish a good amount of the heat in his hands as he took care to press cold wet cloths to your irritated skin to draw the heat out of the burn.

• He hummed softly to you as he worked, shushing any and all painful whimpers you happened to make as the cloth graced raw skin.

• You shivered as he removed the previous damp cloth, replacing it with a fresh and freezing cold wet one.

• It was a feeling you could only associate to pouring water sizzling on a hot gridle.

• "Th-Thank you, Esidisi..." you sighed. Your back was feeling much better now but you knew by tomorrow your skin would definitely be peeling.

• "It is my pleasure, my sweet little spark." He crooned, reaching for the bottle of Aloe Vera. He planned to thoroughly slather the area with it.

• Unable to help himself, the corner of his lips tugged into a teasing little smirk. "Well, you always told me you wished you had a bit more colour to your skin. And now you have a lovely pink spot!"

• You rolled your eyes at his words, shooting him the strongest glare you could muster. "Hah."

• Though you intended it to come out as displeased, Esidisi didn't miss the tugging at the corners of your own lips.

Wamuu:

• "What do you mean by this?" The warrior had questioned you, his eyebrows knit together, when you had first told him about your tendency to burn.

• In his eyes, that should have been impossible.

• You weren't a Vampire and Humans could train themselves to harness power straight from the sun itself.

• How and why was it possible for you, a Human, to BURN simply by standing in the sun?!

• You did your very best to explain it to him, telling him about harmful effects of UV rays and how fragile Human skin could be in prolonged exposure to it.

• You even told him proper precautions Humans had to take to prevent this from happening and that you in particular had to take extra precautions.

• Wamuu listened to you intently, nodding his head through your narrative.

• He supposed that it all made sense and you were very pale after all...

• From that moment forward, being a warrior and all, Wamuu made it his sworn duty to protect you from the suns harmful rays damaging your precious skin.

• Everywhere the two of you went, even if there was just a chance of sunshine, he didn't want to risk it and ensured to have sunscreen with him (and more importantly on you) at all times.

• Apart from that, he did his very best to ensure you were well shaded when the sun was particularly powerful that day.

• More often than not you found him standing over you with an umbrella (that he may or may not have took from the Café down the street) or draping something over you to give you some shaded coverage.

• But at times when there was nothing else to cover you, he simply did it himself by letting you (and ONLY you) stand in his shadow for some coverage as he was considerably larger than you afterall.

• "Are you sure it's ok, Wamuu?" You frowned, not at all liking the way he instinctively twitched when you stepped into the cool shade cast by his very person.

• You knew very well how hypersensitive he was when it came down to his shadow and, more importantly, people invading it.

• You could already see him gritting his teeth to fight against his primal instincts.

• "Really, you don't have to--" "I do." He said firmly, stepping to the side so you were now fully shaded. He suppressed a shiver, standing as tall and proud as he could. "For you, my beloved, I must. It is my sworn duty to protect you in any and all ways possible and that includes protecting you from the sun."

Santana:

• Santana was more pale than the average living Pillarman (with Kars coming in as "2nd most pale").

• However, despite the fact that he was now an Ultimate lifeform and could now stand in the sun all he wanted, that surprisingly didn't change about him.

• Needless to say, you both stood out a lot at the beach.

• Still, it was comforting to you to have someone in your life who was just as pale as you were, being insecure about your painfully white skin afterall.

• Santana, attentive and intuitive as always, quickly picked up on your habits of sunscreen and your preparations to go outside in the hot sun.

• If you forgot to slather some on, he would simply walk up with the bottle in hand and do it for you.

• He saved you from getting burned a few times doing this.

• One day, Santana and you were walking hand in hand downtown before he stopped right outside a flower shop.

• "Ooh, they're pretty aren't they?" You said, stopping as well to admire some of the arrangements put out.

• Santana hummed, a small smile gracing his lips. "They are like you."

• You thought that he was simply saying you were pretty but no, his meaning ran much deeper than that.

• Wordlessly, he grabbed your arm, tracing his fingertips softly over the winding blue veins visible under your pale skin before pointing back to the flowers.

• The flowers had veins too; winding little lines that had been lovingly etched into their soft delicate pedals by nature, it was only a part of them that made them more beautiful.

• "You are like them." He continued, his eyes filled with warmth as he turned his gaze back down to your arms. "Delicate. Soft. Beautiful."

• Your cheeks flamed red as you understood, your face burning hotter than any sunburn you had ever received when he pressed his lips to the veins on your wrist.

• For a man of few words, Santana sure knew how to make any insecurity you had about yourself (more importantly your palor) melt away.

• "My flower..." he murmured against your skin.

[chokemeanakin]

Soft head canon taking a shower w/ Anakin because I think that’s the cutest thing ever

I hope you guys don’t mind, I decided to just combine these. also, I’m proud to say it, SMUT WARNING 😆😆😆

This is dedicated to my whores in the Anakin’s Sluts gc 👀❤️

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

Anakin Skywalker x fem Reader Take a Shower (Fluff + smut)

The battle was a particularly cruel one. It seemed like every other week you were on a desert planet-- much to Anakin’s dismay-- where the sand would get kicked up and everyone would choke on the dust and you couldn’t see two feet in front of you. You had to get used to shielding your eyes, slathering yourself in sunscreen, and swallowing with a parched throat. Finally, after the separatist base had been destroyed and the droid factory shut down, you and Anakin were sent home.

After reporting to the Jedi council (you technically had no obligation to since you weren’t a Jedi, but it felt like the right thing to do since you were working under them for the Republic), you and Anakin stumbled to his room in the Jedi temple. You were both too tired and beat up to care if anyone saw you-- albeit the hallways were empty-- as Anakin held the door open for you and followed you into the room himself.

“You can take first shower,” he told you, shrugging off his Jedi robe and folding it over the couch. You rolled your shoulders, feeling the stiffness already building up in your arms.

“You sure? I’m fine to wait if you want to go first.”

Anakin slung his arm around your shoulders and led you to the bathroom, planting a quick kiss to your dirt-smeared forehead. “You’re dirtier than me. You go first.”

“Or…” you took his hand and ran your lips over his knuckles. You looked up at him deviously. “We can take one together.”

His face suddenly lit up. You wanted to roll your eyes at his boyish excited, but he was too busy ripping his belt and leather armor off to see.

“Don’t be shy,” you joked, and started the shower so you could give him some privacy. While you two had seen each other naked before, you were still a bit shy around him and preferred to ease into things. Anakin, on the other hand, had no shame. This was evident from the pants that he threw to the ground, signaling that he was fully naked. He walked up behind you and pulled your hair over your shoulder, leaning down to whisper into your ear.

“Your turn.”

Again, that damn bashfulness bubbled up in your stomach. Anakin could sense it, and his chest rumbled with quiet laughter from behind you.

“I’ll give you some privacy then,” he let his fingers trail teasingly over the delicate skin of your neck, and then his warmth was gone from your back. You closed your eyes as he walked in front of you and got in the shower.

Get it together, you commanded yourself. It’s just Anakin.

Yes, Anakin. Beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, sculpted Anakin. The thought of his impressive physique just behind that curtain was doing nothing to quell your rising nerves.

“Water’s getting cold,” he teased from the shower. You rolled your eyes again.

“I’m coming.”

Starting with your shirt, you lifted it up and over your head and let it drop to the ground in the pile of Anakin’s clothes. Your pants followed, then your bra and underwear. Facing the shower, you took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

You pulled the curtain back a little bit and slipped inside, looking at the ground so you wouldn’t psych yourself out. When you looked up, Anakin was staring down at you, a sideways smile on his face, dripping with water.

“Well hello there…” he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chiseled body. You were glad he did that, so you could hide your body by pressing it against him. You’d be fine in a moment, you knew that-- you just needed to warm up.

“Oh stop it,” you wrapped your arms around his waist as well, resting your cheek against his chest. “That’s Obi-Wan’s line.”

He pulled a face at that. “Please don’t mention Obi-Wan while we’re showering together.”

“My apologies,” you laughed, and then pulled away. Swallowing your nerves, you reached for a bottle of shampoo behind his head and got to work scrubbing your hair. You passed the bottle to him and he did the same.

This was the part you were nervous about. You didn’t feel particularly sexy washing yourself in front of him. Shampooing your hair was such a menial task, but it was something you never pictured having anyone else ever witness. Especially Anakin.

But he didn’t seem to mind. He did the same as you-- scrubbed his hair with shampoo, then stepped under the water to wash it out. You smiled as his hair fell into his face, and he ran his hand through it to get it out of his eyes.

“M’lady,” he stepped aside so you could wash the shampoo out. While you did, he grabbed a cloth and applied some body wash to it. You watched his bicep flex as he squeezed the bottle. He looked at you, eyebrow raised.

“May I?”

Oh. He wanted to wash you.

Swallowing thickly, you nodded. The butterflies were starting in your stomach again, but you beat them down with a stick.

He stepped up close to you again, eyes soft as he ran the cloth gently over your shoulder, down your arm, and back up again. He did the same to the other side, spreading the soap along with it, before moving on. He made you turn so he could get your back, your behind, your legs. You were a blushing mess when he turned you around again, but he was smirking.

“Cute butt,” he quipped, and you glared at him.

“Lemme see that,” you reached for the cloth, but he raised it over his head. No fair. If he got to get up close and personal with your goods, you deserved to do the same to him.

“Ah ah ah, I’m not done yet.”

You crossed your arms, pouting as he applied more soap to the cloth. He looked at you expectantly.

“What?” his eyes drifted to the arms crossed over your chest. “Oh.”

You let your arms drop, baring it all for his eyes to devour. And devour, they did.

With one hand on your ribcage to keep you still, he got to work running the cloth over the delicate skin of your breasts. Your breathing increased as he directed his sole focus on them, never having a person pay such close attention to them before. He was being very nice about it though, his expression staying neutral yet soft, interested yet thoughtful.

You knew he was doing cartwheels in his mind though.

Always the gentleman, he didn’t linger. He could probably sense your growing nerves, and moved on to run the cloth down the valley of your breasts and to your navel. He finished up by washing your sides and then helped get the suds off with the showerhead.

He smirked slightly when he picked up the showerhead, and you knew what he was thinking. You responded by taking it from his grasp and hooking it back up to the wall.

“You’re no fun,” he winked, squeezing more body wash onto the cloth. He began to wash himself with it before you grabbed his wrist to stop him. He understood right away what you wanted to do.

He stood still beneath you, a smug smirk plastered on his face as you took your time running the cloth over his body. It wasn’t fair, really, how crazy attractive his body was. And what’s worse-- he knew it too.

You took your time dragging the cloth over his broad shoulders, down his muscular arms, over his chiseled chest. You watched the soapy suds drip down between his defined abs, his chest rising and falling with each measured breath he took. His skin glistened with moisture under the warm spray, the steam clouding up around you. You went lower, tracing his v-line, lingering for a moment, caught up in the sight of him--

“Okay, I think that’s enough of that,” he said as your hand was enveloped in his, removing the cloth from your grasp. You returned to reality, feeling all of a sudden way too hot. One look at his face and you knew he felt the same.

“Right,” you reached behind him again to turn the lever of the shower off, but the soap on the floor caused you to slip and fall forward. Anakin caught you, but you were pressed right up against him once again. Only this time, the air between you two was crackling with electricity.

“Careful,” his voice was deeper, raspy. You were hyper aware of every place your body met his-- the arm around your back, hand pressed to the dip in your spine, your front meeting every hard plane of his. One look at his face and you knew what had already been decided.

Your lips met on their own accord.

Water dripped into your mouth as your lips slotted with his, but you didn’t care. You gripped his shoulders as he spun you around and pressed you against the shower wall, out of the way of the spray of water so he could get to you properly. He attacked your mouth like he was starving, and it was all you could do to keep up.

His lips strayed from your mouth, making his way down your neck, licking and biting and sucking the skin. You gasped for breath, chest rising and falling rapidly as his hands slid up your body, cupping your breasts and squeezing at the same time he returned to your mouth.

He swallowed your moan, your hands digging into his shoulders, pushing yourself up so you could get more leverage on him. He knew where you wanted him, and he was more than willing to supply.

“Fuck, baby,” he broke away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. You could feel his panting breaths on your lips, water dripping from his bangs down your face. You were so enveloped in him it was hard to breathe, but there was nothing else you’d rather suffocate in.

He watched his hands squeeze your breasts again, holding them in his large palms, flicking his flesh thumb over your nipple. The sensation shot right to your core, and you bowed your back away from the wall, pressing closer to him.

You wanted to tell him what you wanted, where you wanted his sinful mouth, but all you could vocalize was a pathetic, “Please.”

He bent his head to press a kiss the hollow of your neck, a promise of what was to come. He looked up at you, and his eyes were hooded, dark.

In the next moment, his lips were wrapped around your left nipple, sucking it into his mouth and rolling it around with his tongue. You gasped, hands instantly digging into his hair to hold him in place.

While his mouth paid avid attention to your left peak, his right metal thumb-- warmed from the water-- massaged the right. You had no idea this could feel so good, but your body was singing with pleasure due to Anakin’s ministrations.

He sucked your nipple into his mouth and then released it with a pop, kissing his way over to the right to give it equal attention. You watched him tongue at your soft flesh, flicking the peak back and forth until it was hard. Then, ever so gently, he closed his teeth around it and nibbled.

You just about tore his hair out.

He laughed at your reaction, running a tongue over the area to soothe his actions. It sent vibrations through your body, causing your nerves to go haywire. Switching back to your left breast, he closed his lips around your nipple again and closed his eyes, moaning.

He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Shit, Anakin,” you panted, throwing your leg around his hip and grinding onto his thigh. The heat was pooling up there, and you needed some friction to relieve it. He met your actions with a hand to your hip, guiding your movements as he continued his work on your chest.

Between his mouth on your chest, working you in ways that made blood pool both in your cheeks and in your lower regions, and the sinful grinding you were doing on his leg-- you weren’t sure how you lasted so long.

Those beautiful plump lips closed around you again, teeth scraping your sensitive skin, sucking you into his mouth and running his tongue over the center. At the same time, he reached a hand down and began playing with your sensitive nub, massaging it just so that it would cause an explosion within your body.

You threw your head back, pressing it against the shower wall as the rest of your body curved into his involuntarily. Anakin’s name left your mouth in a cry, fingers digging into his scalp, but if it hurt him he didn’t mention it. Your head went all fuzzy, your vision spotty as the high crashed over you like a wave. He slowed his motions and backed off on the pressure as you came down, working you through it but not stopping completely.

When your body stopped twitching and your head cleared up, you fell into Anakin limply. Your body was useless, the powerful orgasm he just gave you having soaked up every last bit of strength you had left in your bones. You felt like a big blob of jelly, and Anakin released your sensitive peak with a smile.

“Beautiful,” he traced his lips over your forehead, holding you up with his hands under your arms.

You both noticed the water going cold at about the same time.

“I guess that’s our cue,” he reached up to turn the water off, then called a towel over with the force. He helped you out of the shower and wrapped you in the towel, guiding you to sit down on the toilet cause your legs were too weak to stand.

“Just so you know,” you managed to choke out. “I’m returning the favor once we get back to your room.”

There was no point in getting dressed. Anakin smirked and took your hand, leading the way.

[wwilloww]

cliff diving pt. 2 | kth

CLIFF DIVING (m) | KTH 2 OF 3

genre: fluff. smut. nonidol!au. camping!au.

pairings: Taehyung | Reader

rating: 18+. NSFW. Explicit.

word count: 5.8k

warnings: cursing. talk of sex. skinny dipping. spooning. grinding. dirty talk. 

summary: Every year as soon as the weather warms up, your friends haul ass out of the city to the mountains where you camp and hike in the shadow of giant rocks and ancient evergreens—and now apparently jump off of cliffs for fun. This time, an innocent round of truth or dare inspires you and Tae to play a mischievous game without getting caught by your friends.

a/n:  ahh I had so much fun writing this chapter. If you liked it, please let me know! And if you want to be added to the tag list, leave a comment and you’ll be notified as soon as the finale is published! 

<- previous chapter || series masterlist || next chapter ->

WWILLOWW©️ DO NOT TRANSLATE, REPOST, OR COPY MY WORK

“Ah, shit,” Jimin curses, wiping his brow and stepping back to examine his hard work. “I think I grabbed the wrong tent on my way out. It seems too small.”

Jungkook is holding the tent bag. “It says it’s a five-person. But we know that’s never quite enough to fit daddy long legs over here.” Jungkook nods at Tae.

“We’ll squeeze,” Jin adds, unaffected, already unloading the sleeping bags from the car.

And you do. With your bellies full of s’mores and limbs tired from a long day in the sun, you’re all ready to crash. Tae and Jin each take an edge. Within ten minutes of climbing into the warm shelter, Jungkook is passed out on his back and sprawled half-in, half-out of his sleeping bag in a fashion that leaves the rest of you to sleep on your sides, squeezed like sardines. Jimin slides easily into the small space between Jungkook and Jin, throwing an arm languidly over Jungkook's snoring form.

You’re the last one to enter the tent. Taehyung smiles sleepily at you, patting the remaining spot between him and Jungkook. You smile shyly back at him, before turning away from the boys to slip out of your shirt and into an extra-large sleep shirt and shorts. You’ve done this a million times before: changing in front of them before a night out or when one of them decides to crash at your place. And yet, you find yourself covering your chest in a poor exercise of modesty and ducking your head as you crawl onto the sleeping mat in between Taehyung and Jungkook.

After the events of the day and this strange burning feeling you get every time you’re around Taehyung, you feel an uncomfortable mix of tension and excitement. You curl up into the smallest space that you can, facing away from Tae.

It seems like forever. The night drags on and snores rise up from your friends. But all you can think of is the small space of air between you and the long-limbed man behind you. There’s an unnamable energy that flows within the empty space, sending tingles down your spine.

It’s a while before you fall asleep, but as do, you can almost imagine rough fingerpads ghosting against your skin.

When you wake, there’s a crick in your neck, half of Jungkook’s body thrown over your leg, and one of Taehyung’s arms sprawled across your chest. When you try to untangle yourself from your friends, there’s a sharp pain in your scalp and you look down to find Taehyung’s fingers twisted into your hair.

“Ow.” You throw your head back on your makeshift pillow, attempting to push the two men off you. You manage to tip Jungkook off of you and he grunts, rolls over to his side, and quickly falls back asleep. Taehyung, on the other hand, is a notoriously heavy sleeper.  

“Tae,” you groan, shoving your palm into his face. He groans and smacks his lips together, but doesn’t move any more than that. “Tae,” you hiss, shoving him again.

His eyes pop open and he turns to look at you. As he takes in your flustered look and his hand tangled in your hair his eyes widen.

“Oh-oh shit.” He does his best to release your hair from his grasp, in the meantime snagging several hairs. You wince. Once he’s freed, he brings the other hand up to smooth over your head. “Sorry,” he murmurs, patting your head.

“‘S okay.” You smile gently up at him.

His gaze traces your features, a little sleep-puffed, but still beautiful. Your eyelashes flutter sleepily and your cheeks and nose are reddened from the cold--and your hair, tangled, and spread out across your pillow, and perfect. He finds a smile creeping across his face.

“What are you looking at?”

“You,” he answers honestly. Your lips twitch in amusement.

“Okay.” You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as the word slips out.

Taehyung doesn’t touch you. Not all morning.

His gaze continues to flicker over to you as you hike. He helps you haul equipment in the morning and is your shadow as you prepare lunch. He doesn’t touch you, at least, not until you ask him to help spread the sunscreen onto your shoulder blades and back. His fingers linger a moment too long as he slathers your back in just a little too much of the white paste, but then his touch is gone, snatched away as if he had remembered something.    

After an adventure-filled morning and a late lunch, the others head out to scope out some new climbing spots, leaving you and Tae alone at the campsite.

“There’s only one left!” you call over your shoulder. You are bent over the cooler, the ice quickly melting underneath the summer sun. “And we better eat it soon before it melts!”

Taehyung waves. “Eh, you have it. I’m still full from lunch.”

You beam at him and grab the popsicle out of the cooler, unpeeling it and carefully climbing up the boulder to where Tae is sprawled on his back, overlooking the small lake where your friends have set up camp for the week. He makes room for you as you reach the top, patting the spot beside him.

“You sure you don’t want it?” you tease, waving it under his nose. You slide a little closer to him, and he pulls away slightly, leaving a friendly distance between you two.

“I’m sure.”

“Alrighty! More for me!”

He watches you bite down on the popsicle, your lips rounding perfectly around the tip of the dessert. What would it be like if those pink, plump lips were wrapped around his—What the hell is wrong with me? He shakes his head, as if by doing so he can physically dispel the obscene images swilling through his mind. He doesn’t want to think about these kinds of things. He doesn’t want to tread over that invisible barrier between friendship and… whatever lays on the other side of that, not when he’s entirely unsure of where you stand.

Still, he can behave.

He brings himself back to you, back to your words and the way you beam and glow underneath the summer sun. He loves the way you talk when you’re excited. When you detail your most recent passion, your eyes always seem to drift somewhere far away and your hands fly around animatedly. It’s contagious. As much as he’s falling into the world you describe to him, still, god, still, his eyes are drawn to your lips where a drop of melted popsicle has collected.

“You—you have—,”

He reaches out to wipe the pink juice from your lips and before he knows it, his thumb is pressed deliciously to the corner of your lips. You stop in the middle of your sentence, eyes widening up at him.

He glides his hand away from your slack mouth and before he can consider the consequences of his actions, pops the edge of his thumb into his own mouth, sucking off the drop of sweet juice. A red flush starts to creep up your cheeks.

“God, sorry.” He runs his hand through his hair, unable to look at you. “That was weird.”

Your next inhale seems oddly loud, and the two of you are both aware that you’re both holding your breath.

“Ah,” you finally giggle, breaking out of your shock. The blush still hangs heavy on your round cheeks. “No, it’s kind of sweet.”

He sends a tight smile your way but still won’t meet your eyes.

You desperately search for anything to say to him, to break the horrible silence hanging between the two of you.

“Haveyouever beenina friends with benefits relationship?” you spurt.

Oh no, you think. Not the right question. Nope. Not after all that.

The blush on your cheeks lights anew.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I have,” he responds slowly, looking over to your shocked state. He gives you a light shove, hoping you chill out. “Didn’t last long though.”

“Why not?”

Stop. Stop asking these questions.

Despite the anxiety that rises in you, he answers your question without hesitation.

“Ah, she couldn’t withstand my ethereal beauty and got attached,” he says dramatically before laughing light-heartedly. “Nah, actually it was more than that. We were young. Things got messy, fast.” He shrugs.

You nod sagely, as if you understand—despite never having stood in his shoes.

“What about you?” Taehyung's deep voice breaks through your thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Have you ever been in a friends with benefits relationship?”

“Ah—uh, no, not really.”

“Why’s that?”

“Never really came about.” You fiddle with the popsicle stick in your hands, using it to trace random patterns on your legs.

Taehyung follows the swirls you trace, entranced by the small white trail that follows the pressure of the wood before disappearing into the soft flesh of your thigh. Is this the way your skin reacted last night, under his fingers? He gulps and pulls his gaze back to yours.

“What?” you ask.

Let me trace those patterns for you, let me press those pretty lips to my own, let me see you wrap them around my—

You search the incomprehensible look in his eyes, as he’s still not answering you. He’s just… he’s just staring at you, mouth hanging slightly open and still, fucking gorgeous.

That night in the tent, sleep teases you. It hovers at the edge of your consciousness, pushed back by the swirling thoughts of the day.

You reach up to graze over the corner of your lips where Taehyung’s thumb rested not so long ago. When you close your eyes, you can almost feel that slight pressure and the distant heat of his touch.

You nuzzle into your pillow, attempting to focus on anything but that. Anything but him. Anything but the thought of him slipping his thumb into your mouth, hooking against your lips, his face nearing and lips slightly pouted—stop.

You are split in half between the fire burning in your abdomen—the one that tells you there’s something there, there’s something to explore between the two of you—and the coldness of the knowledge that you couldn’t handle his rejection. He’s too dear, he’s too precious—the thought of losing him, of messing things up, is greater than the thrill of having him.

“Are you awake?” a low whisper brushes against the nape of your neck. You start at the sensation.

“Mhmm.”

“Are you… okay? You seem tense.”

“‘M fine,” you mumble back.

Taehyung has always been able to read you though, his sharp eyes tracking your every movement and expression. Even with your back turned to him, he knows exactly the face you’re making with your shoulders pushed all the way up to your ears.  

You’re hiding from something.

“Come ‘ere.”

His arm snakes around your waist and pulls you flush against his body. The smallest of gasps brushes past your lips.

“Just relax,” he murmurs into your ear, his voice now dangerously low because of the proximity. “Is this about yesterday?”

You say nothing.

“Did I disappoint you?”

“What?”

“I know it isn’t ideal to be put in a position to pick between your friends, especially for something so… intimate… and I know I’m not your ideal choice, but—”

“That’s not it,” you flatline. “Not it at all.”

The two of you are quiet.

“I don’t think you could ever disappoint me,” you say softly.

Oh, Taehyung thinks. OH.

“So you’re saying… you would like to—” Taehung grins against your neck.

“Never said that.”

“But you also didn’t, not say it either.”

When you don’t reply, he brings his hand up to trace along the thin line of skin between your raggedy t-shirt and shorts, chuckling as you jump at the touch.

“Shut up,” you hiss, more in response to what you know he’s thinking than what he’s just said.

Gotcha, he smirks. Just this little touch has raised goosebumps on your skin, despite the warmth of the tent. It all makes sense. Your tenseness, your silence, your wide gaze wasn’t that of confusion or discomfort—it was one of want. But why are you holding back from me?

“You know, when I said that it could be worse, I wasn’t lying. I could do a lot worse than you.”

“Go to sleep, Tae,” you say, but he can see the blush creeping up the side of your face.

“Are you sure you want me to?” His hand sneaks under the edge of your t-shirt, palm flattening against your side. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy this: Tae pressed so tightly against you, his hands wandering your body as if they belong there.

Your usual response is to pull away from this kind of pleasure. And you should. Especially from Taehyung: your friend, the cold voice in your head reprimands you.

But there’s a new voice alongside that one, the same one that whispers jump.

Something snaps in you.

You want this. There’s no denying that. You want his hands all over you, underneath your shirt, dipping underneath the band of your shorts. Wherever they go, you’ll follow.

You take a deep breath and release it, slowly. Closing your eyes, you slide your hand up your thigh until it rests atop his wrist. Without fully interlacing your fingers, you allow your fingers to slip between his, guiding his hand even further up.

He freezes.

“Tell me to stop,” you breathe, twisting your head back. It’s an invitation, an out—not an order.

He extracts his hand from yours to better trace intricate patterns against your flushing skin, knowing your face is flushing with the delicate attention. He draws his name on your skin.

With a sudden burst of confidence, you push your back against him. A small gasp slips out as you understand what’s resting against you: his hard cock.

You can feel his bulge press against your ass and when he moves to nudge away from you, you push your hips back, slowly trying to feel him against you again.

“Fuck,” he hisses when you roll your hips as if you’re readjusting. “Are you trying to kill me, woman?”

You feign innocence.

“What? What did I do?” you breathe, adding a beautifully executed note of concern to your voice. The thrill that rushes up your spine when his grip tightens around your arm makes it all worth it. “I’m just trying to get comfortable.”

You wouldn’t necessarily consider this comfortable, your ass pressed against his quickly hardening cock. The warmth and comforting presence of his body wrapped around yours, yes, you would consider that comfortable. But the growing ache in the valley of your belly—there is nothing comfortable about that.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“Hmm,” you hum.  

He nudges your hair away from your neck and breathes your name against your skin. “Before, I—,”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re doing but go the fuck to sleep,” Jin hisses from the other side of the tent.

You clasp your hand over your mouth, holding back your gasp of embarrassment. You can feel Tae shaking against your back, holding back laughter.

“Okay,” Tae whispers back to Jin.

His grip tightens around you and in the warmth of his arms, it’s not long before both of you are drifting off into sleep.  

When you wake the sun has just started to peek above the horizon, casting a pink glow over the mountains. That crisp predawn chill still threads through the air, cutting through the thin lining of the tent and reddening your nose. But you’re surprisingly warm.

Tae is wrapped around you, but you don’t want to move. His warmth pulls you somewhere safe and secure. The feeling of his arms wrapped around you paints you in a glow that you can’t quite put a finger on. It’s effortless as you allow yourself to slip into it.

As your eyes grow heavy again, you reach down and wrap your hand around his wrist, tugging weakly.

“Tae, we should move,” you whisper. “The others…”

But he just tightens his grip and nuzzles your neck and soon your eyes are fluttering shut again, drawing you back to that easy, sweet place as you try—and fail—to write a mental note that quickly dissolves into sleep.

The next thing you know, your eyes are blinking open again, foggy with sleep. When they finally focus, you find dark, deep bunny eyes staring unwaveringly at you.

Jungkook. He’s got his head propped up on his elbow and he’s grinning at you.

“Shit,” you gasp, remembering where you. Who you are. You immediately try to untangle yourself from Tae. Since you were last awake, he’s nestled his nose into your neck and has somehow wrapped both of his arms around your torso, pulling you tightly against him. As you disentangle yourself from him, he groans and tries to pull you closer.

“Tae,” you hiss. “Let me go.”

Tae’s eyes finally pop open to find Jungkook staring at the pair with a frown on his face.

“y/n is such a cuddle whore.” He pouts. “Next time, come cuddle with me. I’m not a bony noodle-like Tae is. I do it better.” He winks.

“Fuck off,” Tae groans, flopping away from you and onto his back.

Today the group splits up.

Tae and Jungkook head off to hike while you, Jimin, and Jin split off from the rest to tackle some of the bouldering routes they scouted the day before.

This height feels different to you than that of the cliff. There’s a thrill in the ache of the challenge. You love the way you are entirely in your body as you scale the rock. In a way, it quiets the ricocheting thoughts of Tae, the spiraling sensation of his body wrapped around yours all night. You’re the last to pull yourself to the top and you quickly plop yourself in the center of the boys as they cheer you on.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Jin says, passing you a bottle of water as you sit atop the rock, looking down on a slope of evergreens. “What’s going on in that big, sexy brain of yours?”

You giggle at his phrasing. “Nothing much. Just stuck in my head a little.”

Jimin watches your expression carefully.

“Someone stuck in your head?” he asks slowly.

“No?” Jimin and Jin exchange glances, but say nothing. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” you smile sheepishly.

For the rest of the day, you push yourself hard, scaling the routes faster than ever, faster than either Jin or Jimin.

By the time you all return to the campsite from your separate adventures, laughing, a little sunburnt, and covered in dirt, you’re ready for a distraction. It’s getting dark and your muscles ache from pushing just a little too hard. You’re tired. Tired of the stirring in your chest. Tired of trying to unravel Taehyung’s indecipherable stares while your heart flutters endlessly. Excessively.

After you all head down to the shore to wash up after the long day, you help Jin with dinner. He’s always had a special touch in the kitchen, and even with the limitations of the great outdoors he manages to transform the campfire griddle into a Michelin star kitchen. Gratefully, you accept his instructions to stick to washing and chopping vegetables while he absent-mindedly flutters about the make-shift kitchen stirring and tasting and measuring. To him, this kind of magic is second nature.

Dinner is exquisite, as anticipated. You groan obscenely when the stew he's thrown together hits your tongue.

"Jin, you've done it again."

The chef blushes heartily from the praise, always a sucker for compliments.

You lean over to Jin, who’s sitting right beside you to pat him on the shoulder—but when you look over at Taehyung across the fire, his spoon is frozen halfway between his bowl and his mouth, jaw hanging open. As your eyes meet, he collects himself and throws a wink your way. You quickly look back down to your bowl, spooning more of the soupy goodness into your mouth.

You finish the meal in silence, a sign of a good, long day. Or sprouting, unreadable confusion.

Once the bowls are empty and the food is cleaned up and put away you return to the fire where you slump in your camp chair. The sound of the gentle lapping of lake waves and crickets stringing their song in the chilled air fills your head. Brings you some semblance of peace.

A peace which is very quickly broken by Jimin sprinting out of the tent wearing only his swim trunks.

"We're going swimming!" he commands, pulling you out of your chair and shoving you towards the tent to change. You laugh, never one to turn down a dip in the water. "Give the lady some privacy and then I expect every single one of you in your swimsuits and splashing in that divine lake.”

“But—it’s night time?” Jin says.

“All the better,” Jimin replies.

You laugh, hearing Jin's protests and Jungkook's excited chatter. Your heart swells with affection for your beautiful friends. Even with this new, uncanny twist of luck with the introduction of butterflies around Tae, you still feel a hard edge rise in your chest when you think about risking the friendships that have so unwaveringly supported you all these years. These people are your heart. They comprise the unending list of delights and joys that pepper your life.

It's silly, truly, to risk that all for the tension between your legs. Or the thing fluttering in your chest.

You quickly change into your bathing suit and rush out of the tent to meet Jimin in the water. He grabs your hand as you step tentatively into the cold water.

"Shit, that's freezing," you hiss.

"It's better once you're all the way in," Jimin reassures, tugging you deeper into the sun-warmed water.

He's right. Once you've gone in deep enough to duck your head under the water, it feels as if a switch is flicked.

The water surrounds you—soft, warm, reassuring.

You've always felt most comfortable in the water. There was something about the way it lifted the tension out of your bones and soothed your mind, as if when you submerged yourself within it you became connected to something larger. Larger than just you, your individuality, your problems.

Even the burning tension in your stomach that rises at the mere thought of Taehyung seems soothed by the darkness of the lake. You take a deep breath and flop belly up to float on the surface, fascinated by the split in sensation between the sharp, arid air and soft, cradling water.

The rest of the group joins you in the water, floating and splashing around. Jungkook is the last to join you, waddling to the edge of the water will a full donut inner tube and floaties.

It’s easy to fall into them. Into their crack-head humor and constant energy and endless affection. And if it weren’t for Taehyung’s lingering gaze, you could almost imagine all the events of the past twenty-four hours never happened. That you hadn’t backed yourself against the edge of some unknowable cliff in your friendship by calling out his name, by letting him wrap himself around you last night, by letting his gaze linger like this, letting it put a fiery brush to your cheeks.

How quickly you would come undone for him.

You snap out of your thoughts only to find that your gaze has been rooted on him the whole time. And his on you.

He sends you a wink and you almost scream in frustration. As much as you want to wink back this unrooted, ungrounded worry eats at you.

“Think I can make it all the way to the other bank?” you blurt out, suddenly feeling the need to shake out the feelings that are building up in your body.

“I hope you’re not expecting us to join you,” Jimin said as he floats languidly on his back.

“Nope, just need to move. See ya on the other side.” You blow an eyebrow-raised Jin a kiss and push off into the water. The water gets a little colder as you swim further out, and the chill starts to numb you, pushing out those burning, disastrous thoughts that—

“Hey! Hold up! I’m coming!” you hear an all too lovely voice call out from behind you.

So much for an escape. Well, if he’s going to be this way, you might as well push it.

“I’ll race you!” you yell over your shoulder. You kick off into the dark water. Taehyung grins and swims after your quickly disappearing figure.  

The wind has died down from earlier and there’s little resistance as you glide forward, paddling sleekly through the water. With the darkness of the night, the water looks like the darkest of inks before you, a darkness only broken by threads of  glossy silver moonlight on the ripples of the surface. You could be paddling through a painting for all you know.

Unfortunately for you, the splashing from behind you is getting louder—and closer.

You throw all of your energy into your stroke, the fire of exertion burning through you, cleansing you. Just as you’re finally nearing the opposite shore, something slimy slides up your leg and wraps around your thigh.

You scream bloody murder.

You shake your leg frantically, trying to get whatever the hell it is that is trying to eat you off of your fucking leg. You continue to splash and kick—until your foot hits something hard. There’s a loud splash immediately behind you and then a sharp, “Fuck!”

You whirl around to see Taehyung, clutching his face, one hand still holding onto a long green and slimy lake plant.

“Oh no, no, no,” you quickly swim over to him, trying to pry his hands away from his face. “Tae, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know!”

He peeks out between his hands, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

“Gotcha.”

He’s fine. Your jaw drops and your concern quickly morphs into anger as you beat against his bare chest with clenched fists.

“Kim Taehyung! How dare you scare me like that!”

“Ow, ow!” He groans as he tries to pull you to where the water is shallow enough to stand, wrestling you around in the process so that your back is pressed against his torso and he’s got his arms crossed over your chest, capturing your wrists in a makeshift straight jacket.

“You know I have an irrational fear of lake monsters and you fucking used it against me!”

“Chill! Hey… just chill.” Taehyung cackles despite trying to soothe you. “I’m sorry, but oh my god your scream! You would have thought someone was trying to murder you.”

“You, you were trying to murder me!” you snap, squirming against his hold.

He’s still laughing, his voice echoing loudly around the lake, his chest shaking against your back.

“Ah! Tae, let me go.” You try to wiggle out of his grasp by dropping your weight and swimming underneath his arms, but in the process untie the thin straps of your swim top.

You don’t even realize it until you’ve re-emerged from the water and the cold air hits your chest.

“Oh shit,” the two of you intone.

Taehyung stays cool but immediately averts his gaze and dives below the surface to retrieve your top. It seems like forever before he resurfaces, facing away from you, eyes squeezed shut for the sake of your privacy. He blindly holds out your swimsuit to you.

There’s a moment where you consider pulling his face towards you, asking him to open his eyes to you.

Instead, you mumble a hasty “Thanks,” and turn away to press the material to your chest and re-tie it. Your fingers fumble and you can’t quite keep the material from slipping down. “Ah, Tae?” you ask.

“Yes, darling?” The pet name glides so smoothly off his tongue.

“Can you help me tie this?” You hold the fabric to your chest as you look over your shoulder at him.

“‘Course.” He swims over to you and nimbly ties the strings around your neck and your back, pulling them just tight enough. His fingers linger just a second too long on that final knot. “There, all better,” he pats your shoulders and spins you back around so you’re facing him.

Once you’re facing him though, you both go quiet. He doesn’t take his hands from your waist.

Taehyung is struck by the way the moon seems to slip down your hair, glossy and heavy with lake water. Even your dripping features seem illuminated by the thin light, as if you had captured the night and held it somewhere deep inside you to radiate outwards.

Taehyung has always known you were beautiful. Always admired your strength and your passion and loved your slap-stick humor. But the way you were looking at him now, that same half-smile from earlier gracing your lip— this is a new kind of beauty. One that has nothing to do with the lighting or your features.

His gaze has been resting on your lips for a moment too long.

“Fuck it. Can I—”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his.

For a moment you both melt into the sensation, allowing your bodies to relax against the other’s. And then his pillow-soft lips are moving against yours and everything seems to move into hyperdrive.

There is an unspoken urgency in your movements. You both press hard, desperate to release the building tension. But instead of allowing it to break and fall away from you, it seems that his lips against yours only adds to it.

He bites down on your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth.

It takes an impossible amount of strength, but you are finally able to move your lips to his cheeks to mumble, softly, “Should we stop?”

He pulls away, searching your face.

“Are you asking me to stop?”

“N-no, I’m not.”

“Good.”

You gasp as he moves his lips to your neck, biting and sucking in the most delightfully painful way.

“But the others—?”

“They can’t even imagine it,” he repeats Jungkook’s words, an edge in his voice. “They’ll be none the wiser.” He loves the thrill of a challenge, of destroying someone’s expectations. But he loves the thrill of holding you here, alone, just his, even more.

“I don’t want to mess anything up,” you say softly, even as your hands come to tangle in his hair.  

He pulls back from your neck and tips your chin up so that you’re looking directly at him. “Does this feel like messing up to you?”

You chew on your lip as you think over his question.

“No. It doesn’t. It feels like something else.”

“I agree.” His eyes spark with joy as he leans down to capture your lips again. He wraps his hands around your ass, lifting you just enough so that your legs come to wrap naturally around his waist. You gasp softly as you feel his hardened bulge press against your core.

Gently, you roll your hips against his length and he grunts. Pleasure spikes as the tip of his cock slides against your clit, the thin fabric between you leaving little to the imagination. Slowly, you continue to grind up against you, egged on by the small moans slipping out from him. Hands wrapping even tighter around you,

As he continues kissing you, his hands slide down your spine, tracing each dip and bump, before pressing into the gentle valley of your lower back. Your back arches against the gentle touch. He smirks against your lips, tucking tracing into his back pocket for later.

“Does that feel good?”

“Mhmm,” you mumble, trying to chase his lips. But he pulls back, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You like my cock sliding up against you? Is this what you were thinking about last night—while you were grinding with our friends sleeping right next to you?” You gasp as his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Do you know how hard you left me, that gorgeous ass pressed up against me?”

“N-no,” you gasp as he thrusts against your folds again.

“I bet there’s a part of you that wanted them to wake up and see you like that, my cock between your ass cheeks.”

“No—not like that.”

“No?” he smirks as his hips circle against you, building that singing feeling in your cunt. “Would you have stopped me if I slid those shorts to the side and just--just slipped inside you?” When you don’t answer, he pulls back and waits. “Hm?”

“No, no, I wouldn’t have.” You pull his face back to yours, kissing him fervently as he continues to thrust against you. “I wanted—,”

From the shore, you can hear Jin calling your names and you freeze. His voice sounds so distant, even though he couldn’t be more than a couple hundred feet away. You ignore it and lean into the sensation of Tae’s chilled touch, twirling your fingers into the tangles of his dark hair and pulling him closer.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want—,” But then Jin’s voice is much closer. Too close. “Shit,” you whisper against Tae’s mouth, sighing.

You ignore the frown that spreads across his face and peel his hands from your body, pushing away from him. You’ve barely just broken apart when Jin comes into view. You paddle quickly towards Jin where he stands in the shallows, still dripping, with a towel and a flashlight. You wince when he shines it directly into your eyes.

“Thank Jesus!” Jin cries. “I thought you drowned! You can’t just scream and then disappear in the dark in the lake and expect me not to b—What the hell are you doing?” he asks, suspiciously eyeing your guilty faces.

“I, uh, we—,” you stumble over your words as you emerge from the water, wrapping your arms around your chilled torso.

“YN lost her top. I was just helping her find it,” Tae flatlined.

“Ah, how very gentlemanly of you,” Jin narrows his eyes at Tae. Jin had always been protective of you, but it felt strange to have his protectiveness directed at one of the members of your own friend group.

Nonetheless, Jin wraps the towel around you and carefully escorts you back to the camp, leaving Tae slack-jawed and covering an unfortunate boner in the shallows.

tag list: @dontaskshhhhh​ @myimaginationsrunningwild​ @taehyoungmoney​ @taffyteffy​ @london-dreamer71​ @satoujk​ @spicykoreantatertots​

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[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch2: Hey Sailor

Chapter Summary: Mary is excited for her first riding lesson, and it seems that she’s not the only one…

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Again, as you will all know I’m a Brit so apologies if too much British horsey lingo slips into this…ASK away if you don’t understand. Tagging all my SSB/CSI readers…if you want in or off the list PLEASE just tell me. This chapter is a bit of a filler, things start getting a bit more interesting in the next one, and then we’ll be diving into the Gifted story line in Chapter 4.

Thanks to my beta reader/sounding board @icanfeelastormbrewing​ for her input and her modes of transport kink...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

“Mary…” Frank sighed. “Take the boots off and get in bed.” “You told me that Miss Gallagher said I needed to wear them.” she looked at him.

“Yeah, but you can’t wear them in bed…”

Mary flopped onto the side of her bed and reached down to unzip the boots before she kicked them off and Frank picked them up and placed them out of the way. Mary shuffled down under her covers and lay her head back on the pillow and, once she was settled, Frank gently smoothed her blonde hair back off her face and smiled at her. Times like this she really did remind him of Diane.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?” “Can I read for a little while?” she asked.

Frank rolled his eyes “Mary…”

“Please!”

“Fine, fifteen minutes tops. And I’ll be in to turn the light off, ok?” With a grin she sat up and reached for her latest book- Moby Dick, and he dropped a kiss to her head and left her to it. He made his way into the kitchen, cleared the dishes and then grabbed a beer his attention turning to the table which was had clear, the other half scattered with the parts from one of the engines he had been working on. He knew he really shouldn’t bring this home with him but sometimes it was just easier.

His phone buzzed and he reached for it, glancing down at the unknown number.

“Hi Mr Adler, just a courtesy message to remind you of Mary’s lesson tomorrow at One. If you can’t make it please let me know ASAP so I can offer the slot to someone else. Otherwise see you then. Regards, Fliss.” Frank smiled, like he would have chance to forget. Mary had talked of nothing else since Saturday. His fingers hovered over the reply button, before he dropped the phone back down. He didn’t need to reply…did he? I mean…

Oh fuck it. What was a bit of harmless flirting? He picked the phone back up and tapped in a quick response.

“Like I’d have chance to forget. She’s been like a broken record since Wednesday. I had to pry her

boots off tonight as she was threatening to wear them in bed.” Setting the phone down he headed back through to check on Mary, her 15 minutes was over. He found her fast asleep, book clutched to her chest. Gently taking it from her, he slipped the bookmark into the page and turned off the lights, making sure she was tucked in. When he moved back into the main part of the trailer he had a reply.

“Brilliant! That’s what I like to hear. Get used to it, you’re going to hear about nothing but horses now for the rest of your life.” “Great, I can’t wait…” he set his Nokia down, not really having a smarter response to that, so he gathered a few pieces of the engine, setting to work. About five minutes passed and his phone went again.

“You know I offer starter lessons for adults too, maybe you should try it, see if you understand what the fuss is all about.” “No thanks, my feet stay firmly on the ground. Unless I’m on a boat.” “A boat? I didn’t have you pegged as a sailor?” At that Frank let out a bark of a laugh.

“I’m not, not really. I fix them. And besides, you don’t sail speedboats.” “What do you do then?”

“You drive them.”

“Do you drive them on water?” “Dur.” “That’s called Sailing.”

His work abandoned, he took a pull from his beer bottle and shook his head, smile tugging at his lips as he replied.

“But they don’t have sails…” “It’s a boat. It goes on water. It’s called Sailing.” “Alright, I bow to your superior knowledge…” “Glad we agree…even if I do detect a serious underlying tone of sarcasm in your message. See you tomorrow Sailor.” He laughed again, shaking his head. He tapped in a goodnight and placed the phone down, turning his attention to his work.

***** “What are you grinning about?” Bill Gallagher looked at his daughter as they walked across the field, Thor and his own dog, Rupert, hurtling ahead in front of them, their flashing collars keeping them located in the twilight.

“Oh, nothing, just winding someone up.” she smiled “One of the dad’s from tomorrow’s lesson, trying to convince me you drive, not sail, a speedboat.” “Hmmm…well they don’t have sails.” Bill mused.

“Whatever, they go on water, they sail.” Fliss shrugged, slipping her phone back into her pocket as Frank’s ‘Goodnight’ rounded off their conversation.

“So, who is he then?” Bill asked.

“Oh, his name’s Frank.” Fliss replied, nonchalantly, but her dad didn’t miss the flicker of a smile that hit her mouth.

“Is he the one that your mum said was eyeing you up in the bar?” “He was not eyeing me up.” Fliss groaned “He was just being friendly.” “Sure he was.” “Dad.” she warned him, nudging him with her elbow.

“What?” “You know what!” she laughed “Stop it.” “Alright.” he smiled, holding his hands up “I yield, it’s just nice to see you happy, that’s all.” “Well, I am.” she said after a moment, and she meant it “The last six months the riding school has taken off, I’m feeling more, well, myself than I have in years. Just need to find an apartment now.” “Well, on that.” Bill looked at her. “Me and your mum have been thinking. We thought, maybe, you might want to move into the annex. We can do it up, gives you your own space…”

Fliss paused walking and turned to her dad. “That’s where Steeby stays though, when he comes out with Sian and the kids.” “There’s plenty of room in the house.” Bill shrugged “And they come like what, four times a year? It’s stood empty the rest of the time.” Fliss bit her lip.

“It’s just an idea and your brother won’t mind. Look, I know it’s probably not what you had in mind, living in your parent’s annex but for the time being until the Yard starts to turn over more of a profit we just thought it might give you a little bit more freedom.” “Whilst still staying close.”

“I want to keep you safe Titch.” Bill shrugged “I didn’t do that before but,” “Dad don’t.” Fliss shook her head “None of that, it wasn’t your fault. I hid from everyone what was happening…you didn’t know.”

“I should have.” he sighed “You’re my daughter.” “He had everyone fooled, including me. This is no one’s fault but his, I get that now.” Bill smiled and pulled her into a hug. “I know.”

“We should head back.” Fliss smiled, pulling away. “Mum will be wondering where we are.”

“You have anything to finish off?” he asked

“Nope, everything is out for the night and looks reasonably settled.” she squinted at the various horses dotted across her land.

“Hmmm, unlike this fencing.” Bill frowned, examining the broken bit of post and rail that Fliss had patched up with electric tape “This could do with replacing, love.” “Yeah, I know.” she shrugged “I was going to mention it but forgot. The temporary fix has worked for the time being.” “I’ll stop by and do it tomorrow.” he nodded, “Won’t take me long. I’ll level that top field as well whilst I’m at it if you want.” “Thanks Dad” she smiled. In comfortable silence they made their way back towards the main part of the yard. *******

Fliss grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge in her office and took a long drink. The heat was pretty intense today, and she was just wondering if really holding Mary’s lesson as advisable when she realised it wasn’t like they’d be doing anything too strenuous. She adjusted her baseball cap and walked back onto the yard, shouting instructions to the three members of staff to go and take a water break. Just as they were passing her towards the office, she saw Frank and Mary walking onto the yard. Mary was sporting a new riding hat and Fliss couldn’t help but smile.

“Well check you out!” she said, tapping the little girl on the head “Nice hat.” “I liked the silver on it!” Mary grinned, pointing to the sparkly strip that ran along the front.

“Me too.” Fliss nodded. “I have the same hat but mine has blue sparkles.” she straightened up and looked at Frank. “Hey Sailor.” He gave a snort of a laugh “I told you, you don’t sail speedboats.” “They go on water.” Mary said, “Its’ sailing.” “Ha, see!” Fliss laughed

Frank sighed “Whatever.” The corners of his mouth turned up and he handed Fliss the forms he had brought back.

“Oh great…” she thanked him “I’ll just file these and then Ruby will get Monty ready. I thought you might like to help her.” Mary nodded eagerly. Fliss excused herself and Frank heard her shouting something and a moment later a tall, wirey Hispanic girl emerged from the office with a saddle. Fliss followed, bridle slung over her shoulder and gestured for Mary to follow. Frank watched as the girl skipped off following and headed after her at a slower pace, rubbing at his neck which felt like it was burning. He’d slathered Mary in sunscreen before but of course had forgotten his own.

He stepped into the relative cool of the barn and watched as the stable hand was explaining to Mary what each piece of tack was as she began to place it onto the pony. He knew Mary would be taking all of this in, just like she did with everything, and Roberta would be hearing all about it later on.

Fliss handed over the bridle and stepped back, heading towards Frank. “I normally do have the ponies ready” she said, almost apologetically “But I thought she’d enjoy this bit.” “You thought right.” Frank laughed “I was just thinking to myself she’ll be chewing our neighbour’s ear off later.”

Fliss smiled and they both stood in silence watching until the other girl said they were ready.

“Alright, let’s go!” Fliss grinned and they walked out into the yard. She took the pony from her staff member with a thanks, and walked with Mary following into the riding paddock. Frank leaned on the fencing outside as Fliss led Mary and Monty over to the wooden mounting block at the side.

“Ok, so…” she turned to Mary and patted the top step “Climb up here…” Mary hopped up.

“Left foot in this stirrup,” she instructed. Mary placed her foot in. “Left hand here,” she guided it to the front of the saddle, “and then I want you to swing your right leg over.” Mary did as she was told, sitting down on the saddle.

“Good stuff kiddo!” Fliss smiled as she checked the stirrups “Ok, so we need to put these up a hole so…”

She busied herself shortening the stirrup leathers, and eventually when she was happy she nodded.

“So, what we’re gonna do for today is a bit of walking around, and stopping, and then if you’re happy with your balance we can try a bit of trot ok?” Mary grinned.

“Right…so take your reins…” Fliss showed her how to hold the reins correctly, and then she slipped the lunge line through the ponies bit and looked at the girl. “If you feel wobbly or anything you grab this…” she said, gesturing to the leather strap around the pony’s neck. “And shout to me ok?”

Mary nodded.

Fliss began to walk besides the pony who followed her like a dog. Mary all the time concentrating on what she was doing. Fliss explained to her how her legs made the animal go, and how to make it stop, and they practiced that for five minutes before Fliss moved slightly further away to let Mary take a bit of control, instructing her to go, then stop, go, then stop…

Frank watched intently. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly nervous about Mary falling off but he knew that he had to let her discover all this for herself. He leaned further over on the fence, watching and couldn’t help but smile at the look on Mary’s face, she was concentrating so hard her brow was furrowed, tongue poking out from the side of her mouth.

“Your kid?” a deep voice with a similar accent to Fliss said and he turned to his right to see a tall, stocky guy in his sixties, maybe, dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans looking at him.

“Neice.” he nodded, “First lesson.” “Ahh...” the man chuckled “Yeah I remember Fliss’ first lesson. I crapped myself.” Frank let out a laugh “Yeah, I’m a little nervous.” “Bill Gallagher” The man stuck his hand out “Fliss’ dad.” “Nice to meet you, I’m Frank.” Bill looked at him, nodding before his attention turned to the paddock “Hey, Titch, sorry to interrupt…” Fliss stopped the pony and turned to her dad “Hey.” “Fencing is done but I can’t get that bloody tractor started, so the field’s gonna have to wait.” “I can look at it.” Frank offered immediately “I mean, if you want.” Bill turned to him, “You a mechanic?” “No he’s a sailor.” Fliss shot back and Frank rolled his eyes.

“I fix boats. Engines, that type of thing.” “Huh.” Bill nodded appraisingly. “Well if you wouldn’t mind…” “Not a problem. Mary you okay here if I go for a minute?” Mary looked at him “Dur.” Bill let out a chuckle as Frank turned to him “Tell me raising them gets easier.” “Oh no mate.” Bill shook his head, grinning “You just get different shit to deal with.” Frank followed the man round to the back of the barn and spotted a dark green baby tractor. Bill explained what it was doing and Frank crouched closer to have a look before he headed to his truck for the jump leads.

After ten minutes or so he’d found the problem. They could start it, but it wasn’t holding any charge. Meaning when the turned the engine off it needed jump starting again.

“I’m pretty sure it’s the alternator.” he chewed his lip, stepping back “I’ll need to strip it down to see whether I can repair it or if it needs a new one but we can get it started again you can do what you need to do for today.”

Bill nodded “So not quite ready for the scrap heap?” “Not quite.” Frank smiled, wiping his hands on his jeans “Just needs a bit of a fiddle with.” “Don’t we all?” Bill quipped, making Frank laugh. They jump started it again and Bill thanked him before hopping on and heading over to the gate that led to the field.

By the time Frank returned, he was surprised to see that Mary was now riding the pony almost unaided in a circle around Fliss who was holding the end of the line attached to the Monty’s bridle as it trotted around. Mary was gripping the strap round the pony’s neck and trying to rise in time to the trot. It was clumsy and she was a little bit out of balance but that didn’t matter. He could hear Fliss shouting gentle encouragement to her, counting out the rhythm and eventually Mary fell in time with her counts.

“Good!” Fliss beamed “see, I told you you’d get it…” This continued for another 5 minutes or so before Fliss told Mary to slow Monty down to a walk and give him a good pat. They walked the pony around for a while, to give him chance to cool down a little before Fliss walked towards Mary gathering up the line as she went.

“That was awesome for a first go!” she said, smiling “Did you enjoy it?”

Mary nodded “Yeah, it was really cool!”

“Good!” Fliss said. “Now I’m gonna unclip the line and walk around for a bit. He’ll follow me but when I stop I want you to stop him yeah?”

Mary nodded eagerly and she unclipped the line and began to walk. Fliss knew Monty would stop when she did but she wanted to let Mary have a go anyway. They did a lap of the paddock and on the second she stopped by Frank.

“Look, Frank!” Mary smiled “I’m not on the line.” “Yeah, I see!” he smiled at her “Good job!”

“How’s my tractor?” Fliss asked.

“Think it’s the alternator. We got it started for your dad but I’ll need to strip it down properly…I can come back tomorrow and sort it properly if you want?” “Oh, I don’t wanna put you out.” Fliss started to protest but Frank shook his head

“It’s no bother, honestly.” he ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t promise I can fix it but I’ll be able to see if I can or if you need a new one.” Fliss looked at him and then nodded “Alright, but in that case today is free.” “No, that’s not why I offered.” Frank began to protest but Fliss shook her head

“I know.” she smiled that damned gorgeous smile again, and Frank felt his stomach flip. “But I’d like to.” Frank looked at her for a moment, her brown eyes locked onto his and he swallowed, nodding. “Ok, thanks.” “Wait am I coming back tomorrow?” Mary asked

“I’m booked up, sorry sweetie.” Fliss looked at her “But you’re welcome to come anyway, that is if Frank says its okay. You can always give Monty a groom.” “We’ll see. “Frank looked at Mary.

“I can put her to work.” Fliss said, grinning “Nothing like a bit of child labour.” “That’s illegal.” Mary said.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Fliss looked at her and Frank gave a chuckle.

They made their way out of the paddock and Fliss showed Mary how to swing her leg back round the saddle and slide down. She landed on her feet and took the reins from Fliss’ hand, leading the pony back to his stable. She helped untack and then Fliss handed her the bridle to carry. They walked into the office and Fliss tapped a code into the door to the left and led them into a tidy tack room, rows of saddles and racks adorned the wall along with bridle pegs and a few shelves full of rugs and blankets for the horses. Fliss slipped the saddle onto a spare rack and then directed Mary to Monty’s bridle peg. Frank took the bridle from her as the peg was a little high and hooked it over.

“Now, you need a drink.” Fliss looked at Mary “I got water or some apple juice.”

 “Apple please.”  Mary said. Fliss nodded and headed back into the office, giving her a juice box from the fridge “Frank?”

“Oh, errr, water would be great thanks.” She handed him a bottle and he screwed off the tap.

“So, do you want to book in again now or do it tomorrow?” Fliss looked at him. “I think she’ll cope on the group lesson fine.” “So when do they run?”  Frank asked, swallowing his water.

“Saturday afternoons at two.” Fliss said. “Or Wednesday at six.” “Can we come Saturday?” Mary asked.

Frank hesitated “I did say you couldn’t do this every week.” “Yeah but you didn’t pay for today.” Mary shot back.

Jesus Christ

He glanced up at Fliss who was biting her lip, trying not to laugh.

“Fine, you can come this Saturday but then that’s it, we go to every other week like we agreed, okay?” Mary nodded.

“Settled, I’ll book you in.” Fliss grinned. “If you get here about quarter to I’ll introduce you to the other girls before you join.” Mary frowned a little, before she recovered and nodded. “Okay.” “So do you like work here every day?” Frank asked and Fliss nodded

“Mostly. If I want a day off then I get Joanne to cover the lessons and the girls can open and close up.” she said “But it’s few and far between. Like I said, still in the early days so…”

Frank nodded “Yeah I know what it’s like, trying to get yourself established.” “I take it you’re a self-employed sailor then?” Fliss smiled and he gave a grin back and nodded.

“He takes me for rides.” Mary said “In the boats sometimes.” “That’s really cool. I’ve never been on speedboat.” Fliss mused.

“You should come with us one day, right Frank?”

Frank hesitated a little, surprised to find that he wasn’t filled with dread at the idea of her joining them.

“I’m sure Fliss has enough to be doing without you demanding more of her time.” he shot the girl a look, his tone even.

“Yeah, I’m very busy.” Fliss smiled, offering him a way out. He shot her a thankful look.

“We can do it when you’re free…” “Mary!” Frank’s tone was exasperated as Fliss laughed.

“Maybe one day.” she said, nodding.

This placated the girl somewhat and she bounced off towards the truck.

“Sorry.” Frank turned to Fliss “She can be a little bit…” “Tenacious?” “I was gonna say a pain in the ass.” Frank shrugged, causing Fliss to laugh, her soft chuckles made him feel a little warm, or maybe it was the afternoon heat…

“She’s a good kid.” Fliss said gently.

Frank smiled and then jerked his head in the direction of the car park “I better…” “Sure.”

“I’ll drop you a message about tomorrow?” Fliss nodded “Yeah, but don’t put yourself out.” “Well I owe you now for the lesson so…” he shrugged “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Yeah, guess you will.” Fliss smiled. There was a pause again and Frank nodded, before he turned and headed after Mary. He turned to look over his shoulder at Fliss who was now walking back towards her office before he wandered onto the car park to find Mary was now chewing Bill’s ear off.

“For the love of God.” he mumbled as he drew nearer to find her mid discussion with the man about the Olympics.

“Did you go?” she was asking.

“You bet!” Bill smiled “I’ll tell you something else as well…” “What?” “Those fences are even bigger in real life than they look on the photos.” “It said on the internet she jumped One meter forty!”

“The internet?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, we googled her.” Frank groaned “Mary.” “What?” she looked at him. “I was just saying…” “Well don’t.” He said, “Truck, now…”

“It was nice to meet you Mary.” Bill smiled as the little girl bid him goodbye.

“Sorry.” Frank apologised to him.

“Don’t be silly.” Bill waved his apology off. “She wasn’t doing any harm.”

“I meant about the google thing.” Frank sighed. “We weren’t prying, she was just curious after seeing the medal and…” Bill shook his head “Kids are nosey.” he shrugged.

With another nod he climbed in the truck and turned to Mary with a sigh “What did I say to you about not telling Miss Gallagher we googled her?” “I didn’t.” Mary said “I told her dad.”

There was a pause as Frank contemplated what she had said, and realised technically she was right. He should have closed that particular loop hole. “Smart ass.” He grumbled back, before he clipped in her belt and they left.

***** Fliss was surprised to see Mary wasn’t with Frank the next day. Frank explained he had come straight from the boat yard so she was busy doing some lesson work with their neighbour. “Gives me chance to work without her continually running around causing a nuisance.” he had explained, setting his tools down by the tractor.

Fliss chuckled, “Ok, well, I got another client due in a second so just give me a shout if you need anything.” He nodded. It didn’t take him long to realise he had been right. It was the alternator. He took the engine apart and was leaning over it on the flat bed of his truck when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to look at Fliss.

“It is the alternator, but it looks like it’s the brushes inside.” he said, “I can fix this.” She nodded, the movement almost imperceptible, and he frowned at the look on her face. She’d glazed over in front of him, eyes were widened, almost like she was stuck in a memory.

And she was. Something about the fact he’d been leaning over the back of a truck, his grubby t-shirt riding up slightly, dirt on his hands and arms had stirred a really inappropriate thought in her head…which in turn had triggered another flashback.

“He was fixing the car.” Fliss looked at John “I offered him a drink, that’s all…” “He was in our kitchen.” John advanced “I saw you looking at him. Admiring him…” “I wasn’t…”

“Don’t LIE TO ME!” John’s voice as loud and then there was a stinging slap to the side of her face, which sent her reeling. As she recovered, the ringing in her ear still loud from the blow, she gently reached up to her cheek, tears stinging her eyes. John’s face was immediately apologetic, and he reached out for her, causing her to shrink back against the counter.

“You hit me.” she gasped.

“Sugar, I’m so sorry.” John stuttered, his eyes filing with tears “I didn’t, you just made me so jealous…I…” He held his arms out and pulled her to him, his hands on her back as he dropped a kiss to her head “I will never do that again, I’m sorry…” “Fliss?”

She started slightly and looked at Frank. “Yeah, sorry, I was…” “Miles away?” he frowned.

“Something like that.” she nodded, shaking her head “Sorry, you said you could fix it?”

“Yeah.” he said “I can take it with me and then I can bring it back Saturday unless you need it before that?”

“No, Saturday’s fine.” she said gently.

“Look, I don’t mean to pry but are you sure you’re ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m good.” she spoke quickly. “Look, I gotta get on and…” “Sure.” he nodded, “I should be going anyway…” She smiled at him, and turned and headed back to the yard.

****

“You clearly triggered something.” Roberta said to Frank wisely as they both sat in his living room later that evening. He’d just finished telling her about the afternoon. “Some kind of memory.”

Frank hmmed his response. “Question is why are you so bothered?” Roberta asked.

“I’m not, I just, well it wasn’t nice to see. She looked so scared.” “Well you said her husband was sent down for assaulting her.” Roberta shrugged “She’s clearly had a lot of trauma. Maybe she just needs a friend.” “Yeah, maybe.”

“Could be good for both of you.” “I know what you’re doing.” Frank looked at her sternly

“I’m not trying to do anything!” Roberta chuckled

“Course you’re not.” he rolled his eyes before he changed the subject.

It wasn’t until he was alone later, that he pulled his phone out to text Fliss. He’d typed out his message, just a perfectly innocent one to check she was okay before he deleted it, shaking his head.

Whatever it was, it really was none of his business. He had enough of his own past demons to live with as it was.

But the more he lay there the more it wound him up. And he couldn’t get the thought of her out of his head.

“Fucks sake,” he grumbled, before he retyped the message and sent it.

**** Fliss was curled up on the sofa watching TV. Her parents were out for the evening so she was making the most of enjoying the space. Her phone went and she leaned over to grab it from the coffee table, unable to stop smiling as she saw who it was from.

“Hey, just wanted to check you were ok after before. I hope I didn’t do anything or say anything that upset or scared you.” The last line made her heart sink. He clearly knew about her past. Her dad had mentioned something about them googling her, and the case had been fairly big news amongst the equestrian circuit so she knew that the story was out there to read. Well, most of it was anyway. She rubbed at her eyes, thinking of how to respond. She hated that even after almost a year of him being out of her life John was till effectively a shadow she couldn’t seem to emerge from.

“It’s not your fault. I get flashbacks sometimes, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Well the past has a way of doing that. Trust me, I know.”

Fliss smiled gently as she tapped out her response. “Yeah, what is it Rafiki says on the Lion King? You can either run from your past or learn from it?”

Little over thirty seconds later he responded.

“Sound advice from a cartoon monkey…not always that easy in real life. If you ever want a non-judgmental ear to talk to, I’m a pretty good listener if you fancy a beer and a chat. Just as friends.” There was just something about this man, something that Fliss couldn’t help but warm to. She wasn’t stupid, the girls at the yard had told her a bit about him, his reputation amongst the ladies…he was a bit of a player from all accounts, but there was something there, something buried deeper, she could just tell. And what’s more, for the first time in years, she felt like she could trust another person other than her family.

It was for that reason she found it so easy to almost, sort of, maybe, possibly accept his invitation.

“I might just hold you to that Sailor.”

**** Chapter 3

[stenbrozier]

Mixed Emotions (Teen!Bill Denbrough x Reader + Teen!Richie Tozier x Reader)

“Henlo! I couldn't find your masterlist ): so I don't know if you already did something like this, but could I request a hc where Reader is split between Bill and Richie, totally lost and confused because feels like they love both? If you're okay with it of course” - @beauregard-s

Plot: You’ve known Bill and Richie since you were kids, running around in their backyards and playing with water guns. As you grow older, you grow closer to them and involuntarily start to notice how absolutely lovely they both are. You don’t wanna destroy any friendships, but you also don’t wanna suppress your feelings any longer.

Warnings: Slightly NSFW (making out, groping), implied smut, mentions of smoking weed + drinking, a n g s t + swearing

A/N: I ended up making this a fic cause I had trouble with the headcanons, but I hope you still like it ❤️ Aged up to 17!!

——————————————————————————

Bill laughed loudly as Richie squirted you in the face with a water gun, causing you to drop yours and bring your hands immediately up to your face. You rubbed the water off of your face, trying to rub the sting out of your eye as well but not realizing you were making it worse until it hurt so bad you started to cry. Richie dropped his gun first, coming over to help you get whatever it was out of your eye.

“(Y/N/N), I’m sorry,” he said, his high pitched voice ringing in your ears as you tried to thrash and pull yourself away from him. “Bill, go get Mommy.” Bill ran through the backyard, banging on the glass sliding door before Mrs. Tozier appeared at it and wiping her hands on her apron. She opened the door, and Bill grabbed her hand, pulling her to where you were.

“Mommy,” Richie yelled loudly as he pointed at you, still crying and wiping your eyes. Mrs. Tozier ran right to your side, gently prying your hands away from your eyes as she saw the redness that took over your eye.

“Okay, Honey, can you blink?” she asked as you nodded, still blubbering as she softly blew into your eye. After a few minutes, you were able to blink without it stinging and your sniffling had stopped.

“Richie, you’re mean,” you mumbled as you pulled away from Mrs. Tozier going to sit next to Bill on the little porch swing they had. Mrs. Tozier has offered you and Bill to come over for a play date, and you guys usually loved being with one another and nothing and ever happened; however, Richie was being a bit of a “meanie”, as you would call it, and had shot you with a devilish grin on his face. His mom had him in time out, sitting on the stool at the corner of the porch while you cuddled up to Bill on the swing. You guys swung a bit, trying to sneak a conversation with Richie while his mom counted down the minutes of his punishment while she made you guys dinner.

Mrs. Tozier poked her head out of the glass door and curled her finger in a “come here” motion. She whispered something in his ear, patting his shoulder as she slipped back inside. Richie sprinted over the swing, hopping on it and causing it to rock back into the house, a smile dancing on his lips. He threw his arms around you as the swing swung back and forth, mumbling “I’m sorry” over and over again into your neck until you accepted his apology. You stayed snuggled up to Bill, and Richie wrapped himself around you. Bill’s stomach rumbled, and you giggled at the weird, moaning sound it emitted.

“You g-guys are my b-best friends,” Bill confessed after the fit of giggles that you set off. You smiled up at him, hugging him closer as you felt Richie reach his arms around to hug you both.

———————

You and Richie sat on that same porch swing, now 17, getting ready to live your last summer together before college. You had slept over the night before to avoid the inevitable chores your parents would’ve given to keep you away from the Losers, the friend group that had been growing ever since you were five. They didn’t like the most recent additions, addition being Bev and recent being about four years ago, and they only really liked the four original boys that you’d met through the playground and school. Bill, Richie, and you had known each other since diapers because of your moms meeting at the park while you were all playing. Stan and Eddie were the two you had acquired in kindergarten, noticing their reluctance to reach out. You decided to reach out to them, Bill and Richie tagging along and getting closer to them than you were.

However, making new friends had never separated the original trio. You and Richie were inseparable still, his outgoing personality a perfect match for yours. He had grown up a lot over the years, towering over you, and everyone, at 6’3 with skinny arms and legs. His face had thinned out and his chiseled cheek bones made every girl fawn over him, though none of them cared to admit it. None of them but you, that is.

You had developed a crush on him over the years. Truly, you think it’s more of you just finding him super hot and wanting to make out with him once or twice, but you still thought that there was some sort of attraction there. You knew that you wanted something with him, but you didn’t know what. You were pulled out of your thoughts with Bill sitting on your opposite side of the swing, throwing an arm around you and kissing the crown of your head. You looked up at him, his soft green eyes meeting yours.

Now, Bill was the one you knew you had a crush on. He had been your rock for so many years, had given you so much hope and love that you didn’t know what to do with it. When you were younger, you had always kinda liked Bill: the 5’7 boy with pretty green eyes and wispy brown hair that held you while you cried and let you stay over his house for weeks at a time. Everything with Bill was always so domestic feeling, while everything with Richie was fast paced and “live fast, die hard.”

You sat in between them both, shutting your eyes and leaning your head back as you basked in the soft breeze and low humidity. Suddenly, you heard the crash of the Tozier’s metal gate hitting the fence right next to and it jolted you out of your comfort. Bev and Eddie walked in first, Eddie mumbling to himself about the heat as he slathered on what looked, and smelt, like sunscreen.

“What the fuck,” Richie said loudly as he gestured towards the fence where Mike and Ben were walking in from. Ben closed the gate softly and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Where’s Stanny?” you asked, looking around confused as Eddie shrugged his shoulders. From beside you, Bill began to speak.

“S-stan said he’d be a b-b-bit late. H-his dad nee-needed him to r-run some err-errands.” Everyone nodded, taking their seats on the wooden porch as you scooted closer to Bill so Eddie could squeeze in next to Richie. Richie looked over at Eddie with a look of adoration, and you stifled a laugh. Of course Richie loved Eddie and not you. It might’ve made your heart sink a little in your chest, but it was easier for you to now decide who to go after.

Or so you thought.

That night, after drinking and getting high in Richie’s backyard while his parents were away, you couldn’t stop thinking about his dark, curly hair or Bill’s nonstop attention on you. You had slept over Richie’s again, not wanting your parents to see you so inebriated. Richie was still wearing off the effects of his high, cuddling up to your side as a movie played on the VCR that his parents had in the living room. He was rambling on about how pretty everyone had looked today.

“Did you see Eds’ hair?” he asked incredulously. “It was so blonde today. Maybe it was the sun, but...” He snuggled closer to you, his head finding it’s way into the crook of your neck. Your heart raced at how close he was. Yeah, you guys had cuddled before, but this just felt different. You were about to reach out and grab his hand, but then soft snoring filled your ears.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, feeling his hands move to splay over your hip and pull you closer. You were in deep, for the both of them.

——————

The loud party music from inside the house made you whine as you cuddled into Richie’s side, one of his arms around you and the other around Eddie. Richie looked down to you at the small noise, rubbing your shoulder and covering your other ear as he realized you were sensitive to the sound.

“Richieee,” you whined loudly as you clawed at his chest. “Take me home.” You gave him puppy dog eyes as he shook his head, making you pout in despair.

“I can’t just take you home,” he said softly into your ear, leaving a kiss on your temple before continuing to talk. “Eds and Bill need a ride home, too, and only Mike and I have cars.”

You looked over to where your tipsy mind last remembered seeing Mike, and he was still over there, watching over the very drunk Stan and Bev, both of which who were screaming along to the music. Bill was with them before noticing you looking in that direction, and he staggered over to you. He sat down next to you, pulling you from Richie’s grasp and holding you in his lap. Your arms went around his waist, and you stuck your head into his neck.

“Y-you tired, (Y-Y-Y/N)?” he asked softly, seeming almost sober. He hadn’t had anything to drink that night, but he did have a joint or two and his eyes were a pinkish color. “We sh-should get R-Rich to take us ho-ho-home.”

“I already tried,” you said with a bite in your voice, sighing as you snuggled into him. “He’s just being an asshole.”

“L-let’s walk h-home,” he said softly, standing up before leaning down, motioning toward his back. You shook your head ‘no’, Bill’s face falling slightly at your rejection. “O-okay, then. Y-you just g-gonna wait for R-Richie?”

“Yeah, I was gonna sleep over again,” you mumbled softly, sighing when you looked into his sad green eyes. “My parents can’t see me like this.”

“Y-yeah, I-I guess th-they c-c-can’t,” Bill answered, giving you a tiny wave before going around to the Losers and saying his goodbyes. Your eyes met his again as he walked out the side gate of the yard, slamming it behind him as his shoulders slumped. Richie tapped your shoulder, opening his arm and letting you snuggle into his side. Eddie has run off to dance with Bev and Stan, and you snickered at him tripping over his own feet.

“Why’d Bill leave?” Richie asked you, looking down at you before running his hand over the top of your head and kissing your forehead gently.

“He said that he wanted to leave,” you said back, leaning up into the kiss, the slight upward movement with you head cause your brain to feel like it sloshed around in your skull. You groaned, cuddling into Richie again as he sighed.

“I’ll go get Eddie.” He squeezed your waist before standing up and walking over to a stumbling Eddie. Stan and Bev came running up to him with Eddie, Stan fussing with the collar of Richie’s shirt. A few minutes later, Eddie was trailing behind Richie with a pout on his face and a hand on Richie’s shoulder, steadying himself. Richie picked you up by the waist, holding his arm there until he could get you to the car. You weren’t completely drunk anymore, the three or four beers had started to wear off, but you were still a little high from the joint or two that Bill had smoked near you and blew into your face.

“Rich?” you mumbled as he got into the car, checking the backseat to make sure Eddie was okay while you sat next to him in the passenger’s seat. He hummed, looking back at you with a tiny smile on his face. “Can I sleep with you in your bed tonight instead of on the couch? So we can cuddle?” He chuckled lightly, nodding his head and placing a hand on your thigh to gently squeeze it.

“Of course, doll,” he answered back softly, pulling away and starting the car. He drive to Eddie’s first. His mom was away for the week so that meant he could let loose a little and not worry about consequences.

“Bye Eds,” you said with a soft smile, Richie helping him inside. You could see Eddie’s bedroom light turn on, and you knew that Richie was helping him get ready for bed in a calm manner. You knew Richie wouldn’t have left him there by himself because of how caring and loving he was towards his friends, but Eddie didn’t like sleeping at other people’s houses besides Bill’s. You sat and watched the lights in the house turn on and off as Richie went into a left other rooms, probably getting Eddie water and Aspirin for the morning. A few moments later, all the lights shut off, and the front door opened, Richie’s lanky body walking out of it with a bit of a tired limp. He came into the car, sighing and sitting down in the driver’s seat.

“He’s tiring when he’s drunk,” Richie said with an exaggerated sigh, looking over at you with a smile on his face. You smiled back, noticing the glimmer in his eye when you did. He traced his eyes over your body quickly, not caring that you knew he was doing it. He sighed heavily, turning around in his seat and starting the car back up, putting his hand on your thigh and squeezing. You cleared your throat, looking down at his hand.

“R-Richie-“ He cut you off with a chuckle.

“I see the way you look at me,” he said softly, turning the corner onto his street. “The cuddling, the eyes. It might not mean more than just you think I’m attractive, which is fine, but-“

“Richie, I have a crush on Bill,” you blurted out, watching the way his face went from confident to skeptical as he pulled up the front of his house.

“Well you’re staying the night,” he started, taking his hand from your thigh as you both got out. He came around to your side of the car, caging you in against it as you looked at him with wide eyes. Richie’s face was inches from yours, and he raised his eyebrows. “Can...can I-“

You didn’t give him the chance to finish before you leaned up and planted your lips onto his hungrily, the only illumination being the streetlight across the street that was flickering on and off incessantly.

“Inside?” you mumbled against his lips. He nodded, lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. One of his hands was kneading your ass, the other fishing for his house key since his parents were away visit Went’s parents for the weekend. He unlocked the door with you still in his arms, slamming it shut and running up the stairs before you even realized you were inside. Richie threw you on his bed, slipping off your shoes aggressively as he pushed his off.

“Mm, you’re so pretty like this,” Richie mumbled as he climbed on top of you, kissing your neck gently as he messed with the bit of your bra strap that was peeking out of your shirt. He hungrily kisses your lips as he reached under your shirt to undo your bra, earning a moan from you. He decided to pull off your shirt first, smiling at you as you sat up and raised your arms above your head. He admired for you for what felt like hours, eyes tracing down your body as he smiled gently.

“You gonna get me naked and fuck me, Tozier?” you teased, brining one of your hands up to softly run against his chest.

“You...you have a crush on Bill, though. I should...I should-“

“Don’t stop,” you begged loudly, tightening your legs around his hips. “I want you right now. Please?” Your puppy dog eyes had Richie melting immediately. He growled, ripping off his shirt before working on getting you naked, the whole time trailing kisses down your body, worshipping you.

“Are you sure?” he asked one last time, looking deep into your eyes as he massaged his hand over your side.

“Yes, Rich,” you begged, writhing underneath him. “Please.” He dove into your lips, kissing them and nipping at them, his hands roaming as you arched into his touch.

——————

You woke up to a soft creaking, and you felt arms tighten around you right after it. You looked up to see the underside of Richie’s face, his jaw clenching at the same sound that had awoken her.

“Rich, are you-“ Bev’s voice rang through the room and stopped abruptly, noticing you in bed with him. You jolted upright, wrapping the comforter further around you as Richie groaned at your sudden movement and Bev’s voice.

“I’m up, I’m up,” he said groggily, his arm still around your waist as he sat up with you. “Get out so we can get dressed.”

“W-we?” Bill asked as he barged into the room. His face dropped into a scowl when he saw you there, and he mumbled something to himself before walking out of the room. His pounding footsteps could be heard going down the staircase and out the front door.

“Can...can you guys wait for us outside?” you meekly asked, rubbing your hands over your face as you heard the retreating footsteps. “Richie, I fucking told you we shouldn’t have done this.”

“Babe, you weren’t complaining,” he says with a cocky tone. “Besides, it’s not like you’re dating Bill.”

You leaped out of his bed at that, grabbing your jeans and underwear off the floor and sliding them on. You searched for you shirt angrily, not being able to find it, so you went into his drawers and pulled out one. You threw it on, tying it up in the back since it was a little long. He came up behind you, softly placing his hand on your shoulder before you jerked away.

“I have a crush on Bill,” you said with a bit of bite in your voice. “Not you, Richie. Bill. And I can’t believe I slept with you!”

“(Y/N), you wanted-“ Richie’s voice was calm and collected, the complete opposite of your abrasive and loud voice.

“I fucking know I wanted it, asshole,” you screamed. “But I want Bill. I want everything with Bill. I’m sorry if you have feelings for me, but they’re not reciprocated.”

You grabbed your shoes from for the floor, slipping them on before you marched out of Richie’s house angrily, passing all of the Losers. Bill sat on the curb outside the house, and he gave you a sad look as you passed him.

“Wh-where are you g-going?” he asked confused, gesturing towards the others.

“Home,” you yelled back. “I’ll see you guys later.” You felt Bill’s eyes on the back of your neck as you walked away. The sound of Richie’s front door slamming made you look back again. You saw him run his hand through his hair as he searched for you, but by the time he had looked over to where you were walking, you had turned onto the next block.

[flowerfan2]

Ok friends, I’m cracking up sitting here right now, because I just took a quick trip to get bagels, came inside with the bag of bagels in my hand, and then sat down to post today’s chapter before allowing myself the reward of eating breakfast... and this is how the first line of today’s chapter begin:

David comes into the house with a bag of bagels in one hand and a tray of hot beverages in the other...

I got iced coffee instead of hot, but still, I guess it was meant to be!  Hope you enjoy Chapter 15.  @perryavenue​ is going to recognize where I got my inspiration for this one...

David x Patrick, A03, 3k this chapter, 48k so far.  

Chapter 15

David comes into the house with a bag of bagels in one hand and a tray of hot beverages in the other, listening to see if Patrick is awake yet.  He was hoping to surprise him with breakfast in bed.  Unfortunately, sunny Saturday mornings mean long lines at the bagel place, and it all took a lot longer than he had hoped.

David deposits the bagels on the counter, spotting Patrick sitting outside on the lanai.  Drinks in hand, he joins him at the table and leans over to give him a quick kiss.

“Successful trip?” Patrick asks, taking the lid off his tea and inhaling appreciatively.

“Mmm, yes.  I checked several of the bagels on the way home.  The French toast flavor is overrated, but they do an excellent marble rye.”

“Leave any for me?”

“Even I can’t eat a dozen bagels in half an hour.  Three, maybe, although that would still be a mistake.  There are plenty left for you to choose from.”

Patrick grins at him and leans back, putting his bare feet up on David’s lap.  David frowns.

“What, are foot rubs before coffee incorrect?”

David mock-glares at Patrick, even though he loves these silly call-backs to their history together.  “Bare feet outdoors is incorrect.”

“But there’s a swimming pool.”

“The pool is over there,” David waves his hand.  “You are here, sitting at a table, eating breakfast.  Not swimming.”

“Technically I was reading the news on my phone.  Not eating breakfast.”

“Keep antagonizing me and there won’t be any breakfast in your future, either.”

Patrick grins at him, then removes his feet from David’s lap and goes inside to retrieve the bagels, along with plates, cream cheese and lox.  Ordinarily David would insist on toasting his bagel, but these are so fresh and warm that they demand to be eaten immediately.  They busy themselves with their food for a few minutes, David moaning in appreciation, mostly just to watch Patrick react.

“So, I had an idea for what we could do today.”

“Is eating a pile of bagels and then taking a nap not good enough for you?”

Patrick chuckles.  “I was actually thinking of going kayaking.”

David nearly chokes on his food, and Patrick pats his back good-naturedly.  “Kayaking?”  He doesn’t screech, but it is a near thing.  “What about me, exactly, suggests that I would want to go kayaking?”

“Come on, David.  We’ve been sitting around here for weeks.  I did just get the all clear from the doctor.  It’ll be fun.”

David does not think for a minute that it will be fun, as kayaking will undoubtedly involve bugs, unstable vehicles, and the threat of drowning.  But Patrick has been beached, so to speak, ever since his injury, and David knows it has been weighing on him.

“I don’t suppose we could go on a nice, safe hike instead?”

Patrick laughs.  “We can do that another day.  I called a place about a half hour from here, they have two boats available this afternoon.  Just give it a try.  If you hate it, we won’t stay out long.”

Much to his surprise, David does not hate it.

They show up at the launching area in their swim trunks and shirts, David with his long-sleeved swim shirt on, and Patrick with some kind of sports related jersey.  Their guide makes them wear ugly life preservers, which ruin David’s look but do give him a bit of relief when it comes to his drowning concern.  After a short lesson, during which Patrick asks lots of excited questions and David tries valiantly to follow along, they each get into a kayak and are pushed out into the water.

The sun is shining rather enthusiastically, and David is glad that he has sunglasses on – he even made them stop along the way to buy a cheap pair, in case they wind up in the water.  Patrick bought a ridiculous strap that holds his on his head, and he’s got a ball cap on as well, so there’s not much to see of him except his lovely pale arms which David very much enjoyed slathering in sunscreen.

David pulls his attention away from Patrick and focuses on stroking his paddle through the water, trying to put the guide’s instructions into action.  Patrick stays near him, offering quiet corrections, and soon they both fall into a comfortable rhythm.

David knows that he’s in better shape now than he’s been in for most of his life.  Although running doesn’t do much for his upper body, at least he’s got stamina.  He tries to relax and enjoy it.  If he paddles just right, the kayak cuts through the water without very much effort on his part.  It’s kind of neat.  Soothing, even, almost like the way it feels when he gets into a groove on a run.

They aren’t out on the Gulf, as ocean kayaking is far beyond their skill level.  Instead, they are making their way down an inlet of some kind, a broad waterway with docks and houses on both sides.  Soon they are out in the bay, and Patrick directs them past a piling with an egret’s nest on top, over to a bristly bunch of trees at the water’s edge.

“These are mangroves,” Patrick says, indicating the dense tangle of scrubby looking trees with visible roots.  “They’ve adapted to living in salt water, extracting the fresh water they need.  Some of them push the salt out onto their leaves.  The leaves even taste salty.”

David doesn’t ask how Patrick knows this.  He’d just wind up watching him lick a leaf.

They paddle closer, and David can see into the clusters of plants, the roots and branches weaving together.

“Want to go through?”

David has no idea what Patrick is talking about, but he follows him as he kayaks around the edge of a cluster.  There’s an overhang, and what looks like a tunnel into the middle of the clump of mangroves.

“Are you serious?”  David asks under his breath, but Patrick is already nearing the entrance.

“Go slow,” Patrick says over his shoulder.  “Try not to point into them, and if you do get stuck, just grab on carefully and lever yourself off.  Remember not to overbalance.”

It’s a recipe for disaster, but David gently eases himself into the tunnel.  It’s cooler and dim inside, with branches and green leaves all around him.  It smells like low tide, musty and brackish.  The nose of his kayak gets hung up briefly as he turns too hard in one direction and for a brief moment it lists dangerously sideways, but he takes a breath and then uses his paddle to back up a bit and set himself on a straighter path.

He catches Patrick looking back at him, having executed some kind of fancy twisting maneuver so that he can see David.  “Nice paddling, David.”

They rest for a minute there, Patrick showing David how to move his paddle to make his kayak go sideways (“it’s like a figure eight”) with limited success.  Then Patrick spends some time pointing out to David the difference between the red, white, and black mangroves, which doesn’t make any sense because they are all clearly green.

David doesn’t argue with him.  It’s far too nice here, hidden among the curving branches with Patrick who is so clearly, uncomplicatedly happy.  David will wear an ugly life jacket and take his chances with the alligators anytime if it makes Patrick smile.

After they extract themselves from the mangroves, Patrick makes them paddle into the wind in order to reach a spot where they can pull up on to the beach.  It’s less pleasant than drifting in the trees, but it’s worth it when their kayaks land on a sandy shore.  Patrick jumps out of his boat first, pulling the bright orange monstrosity up out of the water, and then returns to help David get out of his without tumbling over, which David very much appreciates.  

They sit down and stretch their legs, Patrick continuing to chatter about the birds they saw on the way over, how he’s never seen so many of the pink ones (roseate spoonbills, they’re called, but Patrick likes to correct David, so he pretends he doesn’t remember), how they’re fortunate to see so many birds of some kind or another this time of year.

After a while David just pulls Patrick against him, and Patrick shuts up, kissing David with the taste of salt on his tongue.  They make out for a while, alone on the shore, their kayaks shifting slightly as the water laps against their sterns.  Patrick lies back on the sand and David hovers close, his elbow braced against the ground as his other hand slides Patrick’s sunglasses off so that he has more skin to kiss.

They can’t go too far, for obvious reasons, but it feels wonderful to kiss and cuddle in the sun.

Finally they sit up, a little shy, and Patrick takes David’s hand in his and squeezes it.

“Thanks for doing this today,” Patrick says, and David’s heart swells.  It’s not such a big deal, participating in an activity just because your partner asked you to.  And it really wasn’t a hardship.

“It’s fun,” he concedes.

“I didn’t think you’d agree to come.”  Patrick looks away, out across the water.

David puts a hand on Patrick’s chin and turns his face towards him, until his brown eyes are locked onto his own.  “You asked.”  There’s very little he wouldn’t do for Patrick.  He can’t quite say that out loud, but he doesn’t have to.  He thinks Patrick hears it anyway.  

That night David’s putting away the remains of their take-out (Thai food, purchased on the way back from their kayaking adventure) when Patrick dances over to him and presents him with a package.

“What’s this?  Aside from an already opened and poorly resealed cardboard box?”

“Open it and find out.”

Inside under the blue tissue paper is a menorah, a pretty silver-plated one with a leaf and branch design.  It can’t have been cheap.

“Patrick, you didn’t have to-”

“I always imagined getting you a nice menorah, when we finally had a place together.  I had seen this one online, and when I realized it was Hanukkah, well.  Here it is.”

David just stares at it for a moment, tongue-tied.

“Do you like it?”

He wraps his arms around Patrick and kisses him soundly.  “I love it.”

It’s actually the end of Hanukkah already, so they load up the menorah with the appropriate number of candles and David mumbles what he remembers of the blessings.  It’s a rather lovely moment on top of a particularly lovely day, and David has to take a minute to keep it from overwhelming him.

Patrick notices, of course, and wraps his arms around him from behind, his chin on David’s shoulder, and they breathe together for a while.  When David relaxes Patrick nuzzles his ear.  “Want to go to bed?”

David turns in Patrick’s arms, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth at the eager look on Patrick’s face.  “Someone’s having a good day.”

Patrick captures David’s lips in a kiss, hot and insistent, and when he pulls back David is breathing hard.  “Tell me you’re not.”

He shakes his head, happiness bubbling out of him.  “Can’t do it.”

They make it back to the bedroom just before clothes start to come off, and soon they are naked and wrapped around each other, hands skimming over heated skin.  Patrick seems to have a plan, he’s wound up and raring to go, and David loves it.

“What did you have in mind?” he asks as Patrick straddles him, holding his head in his hands and nipping along David’s jaw.

“I want you to fuck me,” Patrick says into the shell of David’s ear.  “Open me up like this, and then fuck me.”

A thrum of arousal pulses through David at Patrick’s words.  They’ve had a lot of sex over the past week, but Patrick hasn’t asked for this yet.  

Their initial attempts at penetrative sex hadn’t gone particularly smoothly, back when they first got together.  After a few mishaps they had ignored it for a while, content to turn each other on and get each other off in a variety of easier ways.  David was happy to introduce Patrick to the pleasures of a really excellent blow job, and Patrick was, as always, a quick study, finding that he loved to bring David to the edge and then tease him until he was reduced to a writhing, begging mess.

And David was always quick to reassure Patrick that penetrative sex wasn’t the only way to have sex, that no matter what he thought in the past, they could make each other happy in any way they were comfortable with.

But Patrick was nothing if not determined, and so eventually they made their way back to it, first Patrick tentatively pushing into David, and later, when Patrick was in just the right mood, Patrick asking for David to do the same for him.  

“You don’t have to like it,” David remembers saying to Patrick, one night when Patrick was feeling some combination of bad and nervous and embarrassed about the whole issue.  “It’s okay if you don’t want to do it.  It really is.”

At some point, though, something happened that changed Patrick’s mind.  David’s pretty sure it had to do more with Patrick’s headspace than anything else, his gradual letting go of heteronormativity and becoming more comfortable with his view of himself as queer, but his prostrate probably factored into it as well.  Afterwards Patrick clung to David like an octopus, both of them sweaty and blissed out.

“How do people not do this all the time?” Patrick asked, pressing his face into David’s neck.  “How can it feel so good?  Why didn’t you tell me?”

David had laughed and hugged Patrick tight, too caught up in his fiancé’s astonished joy to wonder how he was going to keep the attention of such an amazing man.  It had been a very good night.

Tonight was shaping up to be even better.

Patrick holds himself over David while David finds the lube, and lets out a low moan when David reaches down and starts to press at his hole.  David takes his time, circling gently, then increasing the pressure, all while Patrick moans and sways above him.

Patrick leans down to kiss him, his mouth open and trailing wetly down David’s jaw, catching on the stubble.  He’s got a hand on David’s chest, and then Patrick shifts so his mouth can continue its journey, finding one of David’s nipples and sucking hard.

“God, Patrick,” David whines, just holding on to Patrick’s hips while Patrick bites at one nipple and then the other, sending sparks of electricity through his body.  “Come here, let me-” David gets his fingers back where he wants them, and then he’s pressing inside, Patrick fucking his fingers.

“Ah – David – oh god, yes, there, oh-” Patrick pushes back against David’s fingers, rocking back and forth, hands grasping at David’s arm and his chest and then valiantly pulling at David’s cock, although his attention is understandably elsewhere.  “Ohhhh, David, now, please, fuck me now.”

“Like this, or…?”

Patrick slides off David’s fingers and stretches out on the bed, pulling David on top of him.  “Like this.  Please. Now.  Come on.”  

David’s helpless to resist, Patrick’s big eyes pleading with him, his hands running up and down David’s arms, grabbing at his ass, squirming underneath him like he can’t wait a moment more.

“Okay, baby, okay.  I’ve got you.”  And he does, lubing himself up with a few quick strokes, and then positioning himself carefully between Patrick’s quivering thighs, one hand bracing himself on the bed as he slides into Patrick’s tight heat.

“David,” Patrick moans, “oh, fuck, yes.”  He’s reaching for David, trying to pull him into a kiss, and it’s messy and breaks David’s rhythm and he doesn’t care, it’s so good, Patrick wanting him like this.  David’s heart is slamming against his chest in time with his thrusts, and Patrick is writhing underneath him.  The slick slide of their bodies feels so good, David doesn’t know how he can hold it all inside.

“Patrick, baby, I love you, I love you,” David pants out, heat pooling inside him, a familiar tightness building.  

“Come on, David, oh god, come on,” Patrick pleads roughly.

David’s hips are moving frantically now, his muscles burning.  He’s shaking, dripping sweat everywhere, and he’s close, he just needs to keep going a little longer, for Patrick, he can do it.  

“David, I’m so close, oh god, you can, David-” Patrick gets a hand on his own cock and pulls, and David feels him, feels him quaking and shivering.

David comes with a rush of sensation, light exploding behind his eyes.  Patrick is almost there too, and David gets a hand on him, both of their hands on Patrick’s cock, twisting together, over and over.  Suddenly Patrick’s back arches and his whole body convulses as he comes, head thrown back in ecstasy, a long whine falling from his open mouth.

David collapses next to Patrick on the bed, turning his head to press his face against Patrick’s shoulder.  Patrick drapes himself over David’s side, arm sliding over his back, nose digging into his collarbone.  They lie there until the aftershocks subside, and then some, not wanting to move.

“Gonna have to change the sheets,” David finally says.

“That’s the first thing you think about, at a time like this?”  Patrick teases, a shaky hand brushing David’s hair out of his face and onto his forehead.

“No, it’s not,” David says.  “But it’s the first thing I can say without blushing, and I don’t have the energy for that.”

“David,” Patrick says, pressing a kiss to David’s lips, then pulling back before David has a chance to enjoy it.  “Are you feeling things tonight?”

David snorts.  “I’m feeling quite a lot.  Seemed like you were, too.”

Patrick starts to hum <i>“Feeling Groovy”</i> and David can tell it’s coming, he can tell before Patrick even gets a whole phrase out, and he slaps a hand over Patrick’s mouth.

“For once could we finish up our lovemaking without a concert?”

Patrick is laughing against David’s hand, and he bites gently at the ball of his thumb.  “Do you really want me to stop?” he asks, his breath warm against David’s skin.

“No,” David confesses, too open to argue even about this, about Patrick’s awful love songs whispered in his ears at highly inappropriate times.  “I don’t want you to stop.  Don’t stop any of it.”

“Deal,” Patrick says, easing David’s hand away from his mouth and wrapping him in his arms.  David settles in, not caring anymore about sticky sheets and sweaty skin.  All of that can wait for tomorrow.  For now, he’s just going to focus on how wonderful it feels to drift off to sleep with the love of his life holding him close.