#Road side tire service

[247kingdommobiletire]

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[tarotwithavi]

A letter from your future self

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

This is a general reading so only take what resonates and leave the rest.

Masterlist ✉️ Paid services

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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT 🫶🏻💞

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 1

Dear past me,

This is me sending you a big hug through this letter. It feels like you’re always pushing, always defending what you believe in. It’s been tough, I know. But I want you to remember something important: this struggle is shaping you into someone strong and unshakeable. Each time you stand your ground, you are becoming more of who you are meant to be.

There is a quiet power within you that often gets overlooked, even by you. It’s that deep, inner knowing ,your intuition that whispers truths only you can hear. Trust it. Trust yourself. You don’t always need to shout to be powerful; sometimes, the most potent strength comes from within, from a place of stillness and certainty. Let that inner voice guide you, even when things seem uncertain or confusing.

And speaking of confusion, I know there are moments when everything feels like a blur, like you’re lost in a fog and can’t see the path ahead. Those moments are scary, but they are also where your deepest wisdom lies. Don’t fear the unknown. Dive into it. Embrace it. This journey isn’t just about reaching a destination; it’s about discovering who you are when the light is dim, and the road is unclear.

I want you to know that your fire is what makes you unique. Your passion, your creativity, and your ability to lead with courage even when you’re scared, that's your gift to the world. You don’t need to hide your light or dim it for anyone. Keep that flame burning bright, because it will guide you through the darkest nights.

Remember, I’m already here, living the life you’re dreaming of. I’ve faced the fears, the battles, and the doubts, and I’ve come out the other side stronger and more certain of who I am. And you will, too. Trust in the journey, trust in yourself, and know that you are exactly where you need to be right now. Keep going. The future is waiting, and it’s more beautiful than you can imagine.

With love and faith,

Your Future Self

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 2

Dear troubled me,

I see you there, carrying so much on your shoulders, wondering if it's all going to be worth it. You've put in the work, tried so hard to make things right, and yet sometimes it feels like you're stuck in the same place, like nothing is changing. I know you're tired. I know you're feeling the weight of all the choices you've made and the dreams that haven’t turned out the way you’d hoped. But I promise you every step you’ve taken, every seed you’ve planted, is leading you somewhere important. Even when you can’t see it yet.

I know you’ve been overwhelmed. It feels like you’re doing everything alone, like no one really understands the pressure you're under. You’ve been carrying responsibilities that aren’t always yours to bear, trying to hold everything together, and sometimes, it just feels like too much. And it’s okay to admit that. It’s okay to feel like you need a break. You don’t have to do everything perfectly. You’re allowed to put down what isn’t yours and take care of yourself first.

You’ve also faced those moments of disappointment the kind that stays with you, that makes you question your choices and what you’ve lost along the way. I know it’s hard to see past what didn’t work out, to not let it define you. But what I want you to remember is that these moments are not the end of your story. They are a part of your journey, a testament to your courage to keep moving, to keep feeling, to keep believing in something more.

There will be nights when you feel like you can’t escape your thoughts, when the fears and worries seem to have no end. You are stronger than those thoughts. You are more than your darkest moments. You have the ability to change your narrative, to find your way back to peace. I know it feels heavy right now, but you have it within you to rise above it.

There is a new path waiting for you. A chance to step into something different, something that lights you up in ways you never thought possible. A fresh start where you’re no longer bound by what’s held you back, where you trust yourself enough to take that leap into the unknown. Your spirit is ready for this, even if it doesn’t feel like it yet. Trust in the adventure that’s unfolding for you. Believe in the magic of new beginnings, and know that the future you’ve been dreaming of is closer than you think.

With all the love and faith in your strength,

Your Future Self

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 3

Dear Me,

I am writing to you from a time when things are clearer and lighter. I know right now, life feels like a series of choices and uncertainties. You’re standing at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take. But I want to remind you of something very important: trust yourself. You have a pure heart and a courageous spirit, and that's all you need to move forward.

Life is bringing you a connection that is deep and meaningful. Embrace it fully, without fear. It might not look like what you expect or come at the most convenient time, but it will fill your heart in ways you can’t imagine. This is your time to take a leap, to jump into new experiences without overthinking, without doubting. This journey might feel risky, but it will lead you to places where your soul feels alive.

Along the way, you’ll meet someone or maybe a part of yourself who is passionate, romantic, and perhaps a bit of a dreamer. They (or you) will inspire you to see the beauty in the small things again. Follow these feelings; they are your compass. But remember, not everything will be perfect. There will be moments of conflict and struggle. Sometimes, it will feel like people are challenging you or taking advantage of you. There will be a sense of loss or tension, like you've been fighting battles that wear you down.

But through these struggles, you’ll discover something powerful within yourself. You’ll learn what is truly worth fighting for and what isn’t. You'll grow wiser, stronger, and more determined. You'll start to see yourself in a new light a light that burns bright with confidence, creativity, and fire. You’ll become the person who knows her worth and doesn’t settle for less.

In the end, you’ll find a place of peace and abundance. A place where you’re comfortable in your own skin, where you feel secure and proud of what you’ve built for yourself. You’ll be surrounded by the things you love and the people who cherish you. This is the life waiting for you , a life that feels rich not just in material things but in spirit and joy.

So, dear me, be brave. Be bold. Trust the path, even when it twists and turns. Know that everything is leading you to a future where you stand strong, radiant, and fulfilled.

With love,

Your Future Self

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[trying-harder-then-u]

Johnny's Daddy

Johnny has been my friend since forever, and while we grew apart in High school, we would always make sure to comfort each other through all the tough times. He helped me with my breakup, and I helped him when he lost his job.

Johnny was always on the smaller side; Puberty Hit never really got to him, and while he never got the muscles he wanted, he eventually became quite happy with his body and my numerous numerous offers to wing man him and help him get a girl were always turned down.

Earlier today, my phone pinged while I was at work. Johnny had messaged me:

"Hey man, could you come to my place after work?"

"Sure? What do you need?"

"I'll explain when you get here."

Me and Johnny had always been open and clear without ever really needing to talk outside of texts, so I thought this must be something big if he wanted to talk about it at his place, so after work finished up, I got in my car and drove to his apartment in the city. After a good 50 minutes of driving through the winding roads, I finally arrived.

As I opened the door, he came and hugged me. "How was the drive?" "Nothing special, just some traffic jams and that stuff," I responded. For the first few hours, we just hung out talking about life and playing games before I finally asked why he wanted me here: "Well, I wanted to tell you I was gay." he blushed as he said it, "Damn man, thanks for telling me; I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me, do you want to go to a gay bar or  something?"He shook his head at my question: "You don't understand; I've been trying to get a boyfriend for awhile now, but it never works out, and I wanted to ask you if...." "I'm sorry, man," I interjected. "I love you like a brother, but I don't feel the same way about you." "Okay, sorry, I hope we can still be friends," Both of us laughed awkwardly at the incident, but decided to hang out some more. At about 6, we were both getting hungry, so he ordered a pizza, and he got up to grab us a drink. I heard what sounded like pills rattling in the kitchen before he returned with some beers, caps removed. "Thanks, man," I said as he handed me one. Taking a sip, I thought it tasted funny, but I just shrugged it off as the pizzas had just arrived and i was starving.

As we ate and played video games, it became latter and latter, and the beers piled up, each tasting stranger, then the last. At some point, my mind started to became fuzzy. "Ugh, I don't feel good," i said. "You don't look good either. Maybe you should just sleep here for the  night."Johnny commented, Too tired to argue, I ended up on his couch and fell asleep quickly as he went back to the room. "You'll be fine; I bet you feel like a new man tomorrow morning," he called as he closed the door.

That night, as I shuddered in my sleep, my body began to change, moving around as my stature grew, stretching from 5 feet 8 to 6,2. My flab melted away as my skin tightened around new abs that began to push out one by one, and calves became strengthened along with arm muscles. My round face gained structure as a square jaw and clear skin gave my face a new, more attractive look. But it wasn't just my body changing; my dreams began to shift; thoughts that I used to have about women became directed towards Johnny; as I dreamed of dominating and using him, the apartments that we each had eventually became one, just as my place had his boyfriend cemented, and soon I was picturing him submitting to me every night. As these dreams peaked, I felt my dick pulse, lines of cum shooting out as my rock-hard cock lengthened, growing longer and longer inside my underwear from it's normal 4 inches to a monstrous 9, and my boxers turning to briefs as they were soaked in my semen. The transformation was over, and my new place in the world was confirmed.

The next morning, Johnny smirked as he walked in to be greeted by me staring at him in nothing but my briefs. "I have a job for you, boy; I need some services," I commanded, His dick jumped up, and his body shuddered as he moved towards me. All memories of my past life disappeared as he wrapped his lips around my dick; all that mattered was teaching my boyfriend his place.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hii congrats on 5k!! i love your writing ! if you’re still celebrating could i request a carmy blurb where maybe you’re syd’s besite and carmy has this biggggest crush on you (im talking this mf is Yearning) and she gets on him sooo hard about it like teasing him and reader and him end up together ? TIA <3

Not So Secret.

carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - cursing.

written for my 5k celebration- post here, masterlist here, inbox here.

“You’re gonna stare a hole through her fuckin’ head.”

“Shut up.”

Richie laughs, following Carmens eyeline to where it’s fixed on you.

You’re stood in the restaurant with Sydney, both of you giggling at something she’s showing you on her phone. When you look up, you smile at Carmy, all soft and sweet and like butter wouldn’t melt. He almost melts, a puddle of yearning on the kitchen floor.

Sugar appears next to the two of you, holding out a piece of paper.

“This is a really rough draft of what we kind of want them to look like. Obviously you have full control, but this is kind of the vibe?”

When Carmen mentioned wanting a more personal touch on the menus, Sydney quickly offered your services. You’re the most artistic person she knows, gifted with naturally gorgeous handwriting that almost looks like calligraphy. Plus, she knows how much everyone at The Bear likes you, having been a part of their transformation. It’s a win - win.

“Yeah, I get you. So you want the title words like Dessert in more of a cursive, and then the actual dishes and descriptions in a typeface?”

“Yes! Do your thing. We trust you.”

She gives you a side hug, careful not to hit you with her bump.

“I’m gonna need some nice paper, and probably a new calligraphy pen so I can start from scratch. I’m gonna head to the craft store, and I’ll be back.”

“Carmy will go with you!”

Richie shouts it from the doorway, where he’s been not so subtly watching the conversation. Carmy blushes, clearly caught off guard.

“He needs to go to the craft store too, right Cousin? Good. Go. Bye!”

Carmy’s practically being pushed out the door, uncomfortable and flustered. You smile reassuringly, grabbing your bag and walking over to your car.

“You’re okay with me driving?”

“Course. Shouldn’t I be?”

You laugh, and he can’t help but grin, the sound settling nicely into his ribcage to warm him up.

“I��m a good driver, I promise. Despite what Sydney might say.”

He looks worried but gets in anyway, ever trusting you and anything you do.

He can’t help but sneak glances at you as you drive. You’re completely focused on the road in front, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Carmy feels heat bloom across his chest at the action, wishing he could reach out and release it for you before you draw blood.

A text chimes through the air, startling you both. You press the button on your steering wheel so your car can read the message out loud.

From Sydney: Carmy. Tell her immediately or I’ll lock you in the walk in freezer. Sick of you acting like a lovesick puppy. This is your chance. Don’t blow it, asshole. We’re all tired.

Both of you freeze, your hands tightening on the wheel. Carmy wants to throw himself out of the moving car, but decides against it at the last minute.

You pull the car into the craft store parking lot, choosing a space and yanking the handbrake on. You turn to him, looking at him for the first time since the bombshell.

He’s blushed all over, chest heaving and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You almost want to reach out and release it for him, before he draws blood.

“Carmy.”

“I think, uh, yeah, I just - that was clearly sent to the wrong person. Not meant for you.”

You laugh, suddenly, and it spooks Carmy so much that he jumps out of his skin.

“Yeah, Carm. That I figured.”

He laughs with you then, unsure and nervous. You reach out and place a hand on his knee, trying to calm him down. It just makes his heart lurch.

“What’s Syd talking about? Tell me what?”

He looks down at his lap, hands knotted together.

“I think you know.”

“Wanna hear you say it,” you whisper.

He finds the courage to meet your gaze, taking a deep breath.

“I like you. So much. I can’t stop talking about you to anyone and everyone that’ll listen - to the point that everyone at The Bear gives me so much shit for it. Sydney won’t get off my back, either. She says I’m ‘yearning’.”

You chuckle, rubbing patterns into the material of his jeans with your thumb.

“They’ve all made bets,” he continues, “about if I’ll ever tell you or not.”

“Who bet on you? And who against?”

“Syd and Richie against me. Marcus too. Tina and Sugar are on my side. Not sure why.”

“Wanna make Tina and Sugar some money?”

He quirks a brow questioningly, eyes going wide when you lean over the centre console and plant your hands on either side of his face. You’re so close to him that your breaths tangle together, one set of lungs working overtime.

“Kiss me, Carm.”

He doesn’t think twice, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. His hands find your back, tugging you into him as much as the limited space allows.

You whine when he bites at your lip gently, and he has to pull away to take a steadying breath before he passes out.

“You should get your eyes checked.”

He tries to process for a moment.

“Huh?”

“You must be blind if you can’t see how much I like you, Carm. How much I’ve always liked you.”

He grins at you, bright and white, and you shake your head before leaning in to kiss him again.

When you don’t make it back into the restaurant that day, everyone has never been happier to not see the both you.

[edenesth]

[7:03 AM]

"Oh my freaking god! If you don't know how to drive, go back to driving school!" you shouted, resisting the urge to flip off the car in front of you. "Seriously, how did these people even get their driver's licenses?!"

Seonghwa bit his lip, glancing over at you with hearts in his eyes. He admired your heeled foot pressing aggressively on the accelerator as you overtook the slow driver hogging the fast lane. His eyes travelled up to your work outfit—a well-fitted black velvet dress with a mid-thigh slit, a floral-patterned scrunchie on your wrist, and a pair of geeky rose gold-rimmed glasses on your face.

God, if only she knew how hot she looked.

The thing was, you were usually the sweetest angel known to man. Everyone at your workplace called you 'sunshine,' and you truly were the nicest person to exist, a quality that had drawn him to you. To him, this made you wifey material, and he couldn't imagine loving anyone else if you weren't the one he eventually married.

But there was one time when you were most unlike your usual self: whenever you were on the road, behind the wheel. When you drove, you turned into a complete demon.

He remembered witnessing this side of you for the first time. It was just a few weeks into your relationship when he needed a ride. His initial shock quickly turned into admiration as he savoured the meanest resting bitch face he'd ever seen on you. He had no idea his sweet, perfect angel could harbour such rage.

That same expression was on your face now, and he would never tire of seeing it. However, there was one problem: he was getting a little too excited from seeing you like this. This was not the right time for such feelings. He was on his way to work, for goodness' sake. The last thing he needed was for his coworkers to notice how 'affected' he was by his girlfriend first thing in the morning.

To avoid letting his excitement escalate, he quickly took out his phone and started playing around with it, eventually settling on taking selfies using the mirror on the visor to distract himself.

"Man, I look good today," he smirked.

"Oh yeah? We'll see how good you look when you have to walk yourself to work tomorrow. This will be the last time I'm dropping you off, Park. That goddamn car of yours better be all serviced and ready by the end of the day."

His grin vanished at your words. "But babe, we're having such a good time. Don’t you like spending a few extra minutes with me, hm? Besides, the guys at the workshop said it could take a few days if the spare parts don’t arrive on time—" he was cut off by the deadly glare you shot him.

"If you think being stuck in an unnecessary jam and being late to my own job because of you is a good time, you need to reevaluate your priorities," you said coolly, eyes on the road as you overtook all the drivers from hell and sped toward his office building, which was thankfully not too far from yours.

"Yes, ma'am."

Seonghwa wasn’t sure how to feel hearing those words, but he supposed he finally understood what it meant to be both scared and turned on at the same time because damn, that was hot.

Before he could dwell on those feelings for too long, the car slowed to a stop, and he realised you had arrived at his workplace. After shifting the gear to park, you turned to face him, your usual warm smile greeting him once again—the smile he adored, the one that had stolen his heart, the one that made him realise you were the one.

"We're here, Hwa! You know I don't mean any of those words, right? I'll drive you whenever you need me to. Now go before you're late."

Just like that, his angel was back.

His heart melted all over again as he leaned in to press his lips firmly against your invitingly pink ones, not caring if he ruined your gloss. That was what you deserved after all the things you had just said to him. Call it his little payback if you will. To his delight, your eyes fluttered shut as you kissed him back, just like the sweet angel you always were, giving in to him without fail.

Pulling back slowly, you sighed, "Go. I'll see you after work. Love you."

He bit his lip, feeling your thumb swiftly wipe your gloss off his lips. "I love you too, babe. God, you drive me crazy."

And he meant it.

You giggled, pushing him away by the chest. "You do the same to me, Park Seonghwa."

As he got out of the car, his heart pounded in his chest, still reeling from the emotional whiplash you had given him. Feeling hot from the experience, he loosened his tie to cool off before entering his office. Oh yes, he couldn't wait to be picked up by you this evening. Unlike now, he would be able to show you just how crazy you made him once you got home tonight.

Just you wait, you little devil.

ATEEZ Masterlist

I... this is self-indulgent as fck, that's all I'll say HAHA this was the only thing on my mind as I was driving home from work today. I'm usually sweet as an angel (it's what most people say about me) but good lord, I'm unrecognisable whenever I'm on the road.

Sacrificed my workout time to write this because priorities LMFAO

Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this random timestamp and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |

@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |

@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot @vic0921 @vnessalau @apriecotte |

@bangtannie7

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[tojipie]

thinking very hard about truck driver toji !

passing mention of sex but no actual nsfw content !

────────────────────────

lugging cargo across the country is no joke, with individual jobs spanning weeks at a time. fortunately, toji somehow ended up with you to keep him busy, his forever passenger princess.

a blurry picture of you two taken on a disposable camera hangs on the dash mirror. the shot is encased in a clear frame and strung up by beaded thread. you’re holding the camera towards the two of you, blowing a kiss towards the lense as toji stands with his arm slung around your shoulders. he’s smiling, a marlboro red pinched between his molars.

toji tries not to smoke in front of you most of the time, opting to pull over at a weigh-in station when his hands start to shake. he’ll kick the same pebble around while you stretch behind the truck, waving at the occasional biker.

it’s rare that men in his profession have anyone to spend the drive with, toji makes the most of it. the older man uses your little stowaway situation as an excuse to take you all across the country, picking up little keychains and stickers for you at every gas station the two of you visit. it’s hard to keep busy when all there is to do is pump gas and fuck, but you’re content with the little dynamic you have.

he’ll pull into a rest stop every time he starts feeling tired, dragging you into the driver’s side seat so he can cradle you in his arms like a little teddy bear. real sleep is done in the truck cab, under a weighted blanket he’d picked up at a strip mall in the mountains.

your “bedroom”, or the truck cab really, is a modest little room behind where the driver’s compartment is. toji tore out the twin sized mattress 2 weeks into your little arrangement, replacing it with a queen sized memory foam one. “a good investment” he called it.

you two rarely if ever sleep in there though. opting for the comfort of a hotel room over the glorified backseat of a sleeping arrangement his truck has. toji can afford it, that much is obvious from how much he spends on room service per week. the man had taught you that a truck driver’s salary was more than enough to keep a girl happy, and with how much you two had been on the road, he was easily reaching the 6-figure mark.

most people would get sick of being forced to spend so much quality time with each other. you never will.

you’ll never get tired of waking up in a different place every morning, spending hours exploring new cities with your favorite boy. you’ll never get tired the way you learn something new about him everyday. a new detail about the family he grew up with, a beauty mark you never noticed on his back, the way his nose scrunches when you say something funny.

you’ll never get tired of the way he stalks up to you after every other rest stop visit, hands clasped behind his back as he prepares to surprise you with whatever trinket he just bought you. and you’ll never regret your decision to be his permanent little sidekick, experiencing every day right alongside him.

────────────────────────

a/n: hii ! i rly rly love this au hehe, i might even like it more than prisoner toji. lmk if this should be a series, and feel free to send in related asks if u want :D

[sungbeam]

nonidol!jung sungchan x f!reader

at some point beneath the glittering summer sun and along evening tides, you and sungchan tripped over the line drawn in the sand.

▷ genre, warnings. brother's best friend!au, friends-ish 2 lovers, family vacay + sungchan lol, swearing, kissing, fluff, humor, sungchan does go shirtless (it's a beach), mentions of food, mentions of alcohol; lee jeno, sohee, and anton r ur brothers! (so u have the lee last name but u "look more like ur mom"); barely proofread, also im sorry if this is boring my head has not been in the game for Months

▷ word count. 10.0k

DISCLAIMER: i DO NOT actively write for or stan riize; this is literally just a birthday present T-T so if dynamics/personalities aren't right, i literally don't know these guys 💀

a/n: happiest birthday to my beloved soulmate and wife @justalildumpling :')) i hope u like it <3

OFTEN when you came back home from work, your joints and muscles ached to the point you could barely stand, your hair felt gross on your head, and your eyes stung from dehydration and sleep deprivation. That was the toll of working closing shift at the restaurant you worked at, and had been working at, for the past several years. 

It wasn't out of the ordinary to see the lights in the house still warm and bright when you got home either. Your family was a handful of night owls, not discounting yourself. They had witnessed you in this particular rat-nest dump of a state time and time again, which was why you didn't worry about looking like Death Incarnate. 

“Hey.”

Your soul left your body. 

Sitting on your living room couch was not a family member. Though, he might as well have been a part of it from how much you had been seeing him lately. Jung Sungchan was your older brother Jeno's best friend, but Sungchan was in your year rather than Jeno's. The two met via the high school soccer team and had been good friends since. 

Years later, he was sitting on the living room couch, nearing one in the morning, his hair damp from a recent shower, T-shirt sleeves rolled up his shoulders, and his phone paused from the game he was playing. Your brain was too tired to even register the amount of muscle packed onto his arms (what the fuck—). 

“Sorry, did I scare you?” He chuckled sheepishly, reaching up to ruffle his dark hair, grown out slightly. 

“What are you doing here?” You blurted instead. Exhaustion meant that conventional politeness was completely defenestrated. It was one in the morning on a summer night… usually your older brother was out clubbing or drinking (not that you were any different, but you worked quite a bit more nights lately). 

Sungchan's eyes danced up and down your form. “Jeno and I decided we're gonna pull an all-nighter for the road trip in—” He glanced over at his phone, “—seven hours and just knock out in the car. How was work?”

Road trip? Car ride? If you could just make it to the shower… “It was fine. Tiring,” you said with a sigh. You trudged over to the far side of the room, behind Sungchan, into the kitchen. You grabbed a cup to fill with water, then drained it down your throat just as fast as it had been filled. 

With water in your body, your systems were finally coming back online. Road trip. Car ride. Your eyes widened. “Oh my god. I have to pack.”

“You haven't packed yet?” He queried, tone light and teasing as he watched the progression of your panic with amusement. “Even Jeno's packed.”

You sputtered back at him, “Quiet, you!”

Sungchan's warm laugh followed you out into the hallway and all the way to your room. You couldn't understand why your face felt so hot; you should have been too preoccupied to be embarrassed, after all. 

You slammed your bedroom door shut, dragging a hand down your face. You couldn't believe Sungchan just saw your I-just-worked-for-eight-hours-in-customer-service face. Not even some of your closest friends had seen the aftermath of your night shifts at work yet. 

Crazy. 

It wasn't every family vacation where a plus-one was invited. Your family tried to set aside time for these trips just for the six of you, but this time was an exception. Somehow—you weren't a part of the delegations—Sungchan was invited on this summer's trip to the coast. Your mom mentioned offhandedly it was because Sungchan “was a nice boy,” or something to that effect. Your family rented out a cabin right along the beach for a week, and the lot of you were going to be stuck in the family minivan for a good eight hours together. 

And if Sungchan was tagging along, that meant you were going to have to fight for the middle row seat or—

“Yn—you’re in the back with Sohee and Anton.”

You came to a screeching halt on your way out of the house, a bucket hat shielding your puffy eyes from the waking world, your duffle strapped over your shoulder. It was seven hours later—an ungodly eight in the morning. “What? Nuh-uh; I don't think so.”

Jeno stood only a few meters ahead of you by the door of the minivan, his hands primed on either side of his hips as if he was the self-proclaimed guardian of the car seating chart. “Well, I said so. Sungchan has longer legs than you—”

“Why don't you sit in the back then?” You shot back with a saccharine sweet smile. You were too tired for this shit. 

Sungchan scratched the side of his head as he walked out of the house to stand by you and join the argument, his flip flops thwacking against the ground. “Uhh, I can sit in the back middle seat. It's cool, dude.”

“Sungchan's too tall for the middle seat,” your dad interjected. He took yours and Sungchan's bags to add to the trunk. “Yn's in the back. Sorry, hon.”

“Dad,” you groaned. 

“You can switch with Jeno half way.”

“Dad!” Jeno squawked this time. 

Your father gave a tired sigh, saying more than he would ever say aloud. “Everyone in the car. Can't you two be like Sohee and Anton? At least they're knocked out.”

“They know they'll be sent to the back without question,” you pointed out as you made your way to the minivan. As you passed by your brother, you sent him a very potent stink eye, then clambered into the back row. 

Like your father had said, your younger brothers, Sohee and Anton, were already dead asleep. Their mouths hung open wide enough to catch any wayward fly with their heads angled back against their neck pillows. You snorted and snapped a photo of them to add to your collection of brotherly blackmail. 

Your mom was settled into the front passenger seat already queuing up driving directions to get to the coast. From your perch in the middle, you had a clear view of her phone screen—seven hours and two minutes. Yay. 

You supposed there wasn't anything too terrible about the middle seat; you were out like a light as soon as the car pulled out of the driveway. 

When you woke up, it was about four hours later, and your parents were having a hushed discussion amongst themselves and Sungchan. A baseball cap had materialized on top of Sungchan's head at some point when you were asleep, and the sleeves of his T-shirt were once again rolled up to expose his muscled shoulders. Did this guy not have a tank top?

“...I like it, at least—well, I don't mind all the extra requirements, and I know it'll help me reach my ultimate end goal, so.”

Your mom let out a hum of approval. “Ah, that's good that you like it. You'll be busy as a nurse.”

Right, Sungchan was in the nursing program. Your brother wasa kinesiology major, and you were going into law. It made for quite the diverse pool in the car. 

You opened your mouth in a yawn and fumbled your hand around your lap for where your earbud had fallen out of your ear, carefully so that you didn't shake off Anton's head on your shoulder. (Oh no, was he drooling?)

“Yn-ah, good morning,” your mother teased quietly. 

You glanced up, eyes going wide when you realized both your mom and Sungchan were now peering back at you. “Morning,” you murmured. Your fingers enclosed around your fallen earbud to tuck it into the case left in the bag at your feet. 

“Sleep well?” Sungchan piped up. There was that twinkle in his eyes, the same one from last night. It made your stomach twist in a way that was more pleasant than not. 

You cleared your throat, unconsciously reaching up to adjust the placement of your bucket hat and praying you didn't look like a sewer rat. “For the most part,” you replied. “How about you?”

He shrugged. “I had a decent power nap. Your mom says you're going into law. That's really cool.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Thanks. And you're in nursing, right? That's cool, too—super admirable.”

Sungchan's mouth widened into a small grin. “Thanks. It's only our first year, but it feels like so much work already.”

“Right? Tell me about it…”

Less than fifteen minutes later, the family van pulled into the parking lot of a diner off the interstate, exactly halfway through your journey. The seven of you, weary and hungry, filed out of the vehicle and into the establishment. You and your parents slid into one booth, while your brothers and Sungchan occupied the one behind you. 

There was a low-spun fan swirling above your heads, an 80s song you vaguely recognized wafting through the air at a dull decibel. Your phone was stashed away in the bag tucked into your end of the booth seat while you idly sipped on your glass of iced water. 

You jolted at the feeling of something light hitting the back of your head. 

A gasp from behind you. 

You rolled your eyes, twisting around in your seat while picking the wadded up straw wrapper from your hair. “Who did it?” You deadpanned. 

The boys table was filled with sheepish expressions, to their credit. Your younger brothers, who were sitting on the far side facing you, thrusted their fingers in each other's faces in a torrent of blame and accusation. 

“Aish, never mind. I don't care who did it,” you dismissed. Your eyes caught onto Sungchan's. He sat just diagonally to your left and for some reason, his eyes on you made you feel warm. 

You flicked the wrapper back; it hit Anton square in the forehead. Jeno barked out a laugh. 

“Nice shot,” Sungchan nodded, extending his fist to you. 

You couldn't suppress the smile from coming onto your face as you bumped his fist with yours. 

Food arrived swiftly afterward, and it was demolished as quickly as it came. In the sway of a palm tree frond, the seven of you were back in the confines of the family minivan. 

The remainder of the car ride carried over quickly. Though Jeno unhappily sat his ass down in your previous spot with you claiming his from before, he and your other brothers snored away five minutes in. You didn't go back to sleep despite having a full belly and less than five hours of sleep under your belt; you watched the world pass by outside the window in a blur. 

Urban skylines melted into rolling emerald mountains and pastures, sank into palm trees and sandy shores that met a blue horizon as far as the eye could see. 

The beach house your family rented this year was a two story cottage-type. It was small, with only one bedroom and bathroom upstairs, a bathroom downstairs, and a living room and kitchen. The rest was all beach. It was determined that you and your mom would be given the honors of the upstairs bedroom and bathroom, while all the boys piled into the living room. 

Once everyone was settled in, there was little else to do but go make use of your new backyard for the next week. 

“Yn! Come on, slowpoke!” Sohee shouted at you from the shoreline with cupped hands. You saw his bare back as he splashed into the waves after Anton, who was already only a speck in your vision. 

Your bare feet sank into the sand, and you wiggled your toes between the warm grains. Sunshine, glorious and concentrated above the distant horizon, soaked into your skin. Ah, this was the life.

Just as you reached for the hem of your shirt to reveal your bathing suit, you caught movement from the corner of your eye. Jeno and Sungchan were coming onto the beach from the front of the house, a disassembled volleyball net hanging between them. 

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head at the sight of Sungchan's back—

Before Jeno or any of your other brothers or Sungchan could catch you ogling, you gave yourself a nice, mental slap to the face. No more. You needed to stop this. When did you ever look at Sungchan like this?

(You could still remember when he was the gangly kid with the growth spurt trying out for the high school soccer team. He was paired with Jeno to test his potential, and the rest was history.)

Sungchan was the first to spot you as he and Jeno determined a place to set up the net. He beamed boyishly, his chin inclining toward you. “Hey, wanna play?”

Your eyes flickered to the corded necklace hanging from his collar and between his—Yn, shut the fuck up. “Sure,” you said simply, feigning nonchalance. 

If he noticed your wandering eyes, he didn't comment. Instead, he nodded back at you. “Sick.”

You both turned back to your original tasks. Your hands went back to the bottom hem of your shirt to tug it up and off your body. (Maybe you weren't the only one with wandering eyes, though.)

You draped your clothes over the back porch railing and began making your way down to the shoreline. “I'm gonna take a dip and then come back up!” You said to Jeno and Sungchan. 

“Oh, okay—ow!” 

You didn't see nor hear what happened, but when you glanced back, Sungchan had his back turned to you as he furiously rubbed the back of his head, while Jeno smiled innocently. 

Your older brother waved you along. “Carry on!” He said. 

Walking backward for a couple steps, you shot him an incredulous look, then turned around to meet your little brothers in the ocean. Whatever. 

You had been staring at the wooden ceiling above your head for the past forty-five minutes. Your mom's even breathing and the ocean waves rolling outside the window failed to rock you into unconsciousness. You'd figured the sunlight from this afternoon would have made you tired, or perhaps all the food you ate for dinner, but your eyes continued to stay wide open. 

A quiet sigh fell from your mouth as you rolled over onto your side and gently peeled the covers off. With near silent footsteps across the oak floors, you slipped out of the bedroom and down the stairs. 

The cacophony of combined snoring from all the men in the living room was comparable to the volume of the waves just outside. 

You barely contained your snort of amusement. You didn't worry about waking any of them up as you crossed the living room, full of a smorgasbord of limbs and bodies draped across the large couch sectional and blankets on the floor. 

The back door was left unlatched when you reached its threshold. Outside, moonlight dappled across the calm sea like a sprinkling of diamonds. You slowly pried the door open, freezing. 

You and Sungchan made eye contact from across the back porch. He was perched on the top step, nursing a bottle of beer in his hand. A loose breeze wafted through the strands of his hair. 

“Sorry,” you whispered, moving to retreat back into the house. 

“Oh, no—please.” He patted the empty space next to him on the porch step. 

You blinked, at odds. He was clearly out here for a reason and you'd figured he wanted some space, but if he was inviting you, then… 

You closed the back door behind you and settled beside him, with a comfortable amount of negative space between your bodies. You folded your arms over the tops of your knees and stared out at the midnight horizon. It smelled of salt and sea spray, and the light wind was a refreshing crispiness against the humid evening air. 

“Couldn't sleep?” He murmured, glancing over at you. 

You nodded. “Yeah. You?”

He hummed in response. 

“I'm not surprised,” you said. The corners of your lips curled upward. “I wouldn't be able to sleep amongst my brothers either. Their snoring could wake a bear.”

Sungchan sputtered out a laugh as his eyes crinkled upward and he pressed the back of his knuckles against his mouth. “I wasn't gonna say it, but…”

You shared a grin with him. “I will happily say it for you, dude.” 

His eyes were stunning in this lighting. The moonlight hit his irises at an angle that made them shimmer like a shade of molten copper. He licked his lips, and you saw his eyes dart from your eyes, down a few inches, then further down to the beer bottle in his hands. 

“Oh, uh,” he stammered, tipping the bottle nose in your direction, “want some? I thought the alcohol would help me sleep, but it's not looking awfully promising.”

For a split second, your heart leapt at the thought—your mouth pressed against the place his mouth had been, tasting the place he'd drunk from. 

You dashed the thought from your mind. It couldn't have been so significant as your brain was making it out to be. You were probably just sleep deprived. 

“Thanks,” you said while reaching across the gap to accept it from him. Judging by the weight, it was just about half full, and you took a light swig. 

A drop of liquid dribbled out of the corner of your lips, and you swiped it with the pad of your thumb, sticking the finger into your mouth to suck it off. You passed the bottle back over to him, catching his eyes not looking at yours. 

(The organ in your chest was no longer in your chest. Was it normal for your heart to make a home in your throat instead? Why did he look at you like that?)

“Any reason for not being able to sleep?” You asked him to break the silence. “I mean, besides the symphony my brothers and dad are conducting, of course.”

His eyes shuddered, as if breaking out of a trance. “Oh, uhm—nothing in particular, I guess. Maybe it's just from all the excitement. I think it's usually hard for me to sleep in new places.”

You bobbed your head in understanding. “No, I get that. It takes me a little to get used to new environments, too. I don't know how I would have survived if I was living in the dorms at uni and not at home.” The university you attended was a decent commute from your house, so living on campus was never something you gave much thought to. The idea of living independently appealed to you sometimes, but in general, you didn't have a ton of qualms against your circumstances now. 

“For sure,” Sungchan whistled lowly. He contemplated the opening of his beer bottle, then took a gentle sip of its contents. “Have you made a lot of friends? I feel like it's a lot harder than people make it seem.”

You passed him a curious glance this time. “Some, but it's definitely not as easy as high school. You haven't made a lot of friends?”

“The soccer team, mainly,” he chuckled. “The occasional ally in my classes.”

You let out a bright laugh that made his smile widen. “'Ally?’” You parroted. “What a fun word to call classmates.”

“It's true!” He insisted, chuckling. “Some of these professors are evil, man. Competitive grades? Not a chance,” He scoffed. “We're all in this together, even if the curve is against us.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep from being too loud, but the rolling waves likely covered your noise plenty. Your family were deep sleepers. 

“I just figured that you meet lots of people,” you offered when your mirth died down to a giggle. You toed a pile of sand sitting on the last step of the porch. “Your socials are pretty active,” you said, “but I guess I shouldn't judge a book by its cover.”

“I could say the same about you, Miss Party Girl,” he smirked. “When are you gonna drag me to a rave?”

Heat raced up to your cheeks. “I've only been to one,” you said, rolling your eyes. He'd seen that post? First, the post-work daze, and now, the turnt raver? “I haven't gone to a party in a few weeks 'cause of finals anyway.” 

Now that you thought about it, you'd been so busy as of late, you couldn't even count the amount of outings you'd declined on your two hands. 

“Trust me, I get it.” He raised his hands in an act of surrender, his knees angling toward you. The negative space was suddenly a lot less negative. 

Another tip of his beer bottle; it swapped hands once, twice more. The liquid dribbled smooth down your throat just as Sungchan knocked the rest back. The empty glass made a dull thunk sound as it hit the wooden porch to Sungchan's right. 

“So what I'm getting,” you drawled, mimicking his position by angling your knees toward his. You felt your legs brush—the stimulus sent a jolt down your nerves that warned of addiction and tasted like the forbidden. “Is that you've never been to a rave before?”

Sungchan gave a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe I have.”

You mocked his shrug. “Maybe you have.”

“Or maybe it's just that I haven't gone with you yet.”

Even the waves seemed to quiet for a second. Your heartbeat stuttered in your chest, and you tied down the nervous laugh ready to bubble out of your mouth. You bit your lip and found yourself nodding. “We'd paint the town red, Jung Sungchan,” you murmured. 

There it was again—that flicker of his gaze to some place you both knew crossed a line. It was the beer, was what you were telling yourself. It was the beer. 

Seagulls surfed the ever-blue sky. Eternal summer could be thought of as a filter of golden, glittery gauze across one's already rose-colored glasses. But summer, truly, was the shade of Jung Sungchan's tank top peeling off his body as he sprinted down the sandbank after your brother, Anton. 

You watched the fabric whip around in the salt breeze before settling into a heap where his footprint melted into the mineral grains. You were giving Sohee the sunscreen spritz-down up on the covered porch, while Jeno barreled down the bank after his friend and brother. 

From behind you came the scratch of the back door sliding open. You and Sohee peered back to where your mom poked her head out. 

She just barely caught her sunglasses in time as they slipped off her head. “Hey, your dad and I are heading out. Watch each other, okay?”

“Got it!” You and Sohee chirped. 

One more nod from your mom, and then she was gone. Your parents were going to take a date into town, just the two of them. That left you and the boys here with the surf and sand—definitely not a terrible compromise. If you wanted, you could probably have the whole house to yourself, anyway. These guys could entertain themselves. 

“Yn! Sohee!” 

Jeno arced one arm up into the sky to beckon you down to the sea, only to get dragged underwater by his two comrades. You and Sohee harked out twin laughs as you watched Jeno fight for his life with limbs flailing and foam flying into the sky. 

You patted Sohee's shoulder as you set the can of sunscreen onto the porch step. “Alrighty, you're good to go, bro.”

“Thanks—race you down!”

“Hey!” Your laughter echoed as you bolted down the sand after him to join the fun. 

As your feet dug into the wet embankment, your palms made purchase against Sohee's shoulders to shove him into the water. A yelp leapt into the air, and you turned away to avoid getting hit in the face with the consequence of your prank. 

“I'm so gonna get you for that!” Sohee spat water out of his mouth, a wicked grin pulling onto his lips. 

“No, you're not, actually!” 

You bolted—well, stomped, your way through the knee-deep water, furiously trying to get away from karma. Water yanked down on your limbs in a forceful coax to give into your punishment, but you were determined. 

You could hear your brothers’ hollers of encouragement: “Get her, Sohee!” and “RUN, YN, RUN!”

Adrenaline pumped through your veins and you pushed your legs harder. 

“I got her!” Wait, was that Sungchan?—

You suddenly felt a pair of hands on either side of your waist—you swore as your legs came out of the water and your world twisted. 

“No, no, no, no, no!” You squawked, squirming wildly in Sungchan's arms as he scooped you into his hold like a bride. (NO. NOT LIKE A BRIDE. WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE A BRIDE?—) One arm cradled your back and the other under your knees, and he laughed—he chuckled—as you attempted to flip yourself out of his grasp. 

“You're not getting out of this, party girl,” he said close to your ear. 

For a heartbeat, you lost your breath at the rasp behind his words and the grin on his face. But a heartbeat was all he needed. 

There was free fall, and then all sound muffled as cold water engulfed your body. You plugged your nose and screwed your eyes shut. You felt your ass hit the sand at the bottom in slow motion, before the air in your lungs began to lift you back up to the surface of the water. 

You broke out with a gasp, hair flipping back as you furiously swiped your hands down your face to get the water out of your eyes. They stung like a bitch, but you could feel the rush of blood in your ears; it was thrilling. 

A hand in your vision enclosed around yours.

“You asshole!” You scowled up at Sungchan from where you knelt, though it was half-hearted. 

He beamed back at you boyishly with damp hair hanging in his eyes and water running down the crevices of his stomach like a goddamn system of canals. “You're a good sport, Yn.”

“I'm really not.”

You had the distinct pleasure of seeing the smile slip off his face before you used his grip on you to yank him into the water. You swallowed a good half pint of saltwater, but the revenge couldn't have been sweeter. 

When Sungchan's head broke the surface, it was followed by a dog-like shake of his head. You laughed to turn away from the spray of water; Sungchan delighted at the sound. 

Amusement still lingered on your lips as your eyes snagged on the piece of seaweed that made its home on his head. You didn't think twice about it before leaning closer to reach it. 

You stepped forward, and—oh boy, was that a mistake. 

You had a front row seat view of a droplet of water slipping down the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, and the cliff of his chin. You wrestled down a swallow, and pulled the seaweed off his head, flinging it into the water. 

“You had, uhm, a little…”

“Right, thanks—”

You both flinched apart as a man-made wave of water crashed into your sides. “AMBUSH!” Your three brothers declared, springing up out of the water and parading a full-blown attack with all weapons firing. 

You and Sungchan were swift to launch your own counterattack. 

Merriment filled the summer air as much as saltwater embedded into your skin and eyes and mouth. You almost made the mistake of thinking your racing heart was just from the determination to beat your brothers, and not from the guy on your side of the war. The heat was getting to you and the sun was getting to him.  

It was about an hour later that you found yourself lazing upon the slick and smooth plane of a surfboard. The ocean rocked you gently from beneath the board; it had been surprisingly calm all of today. 

At some point, you and the boys established a truce in the Great Water War, mainly because your brothers were hungry and there was a big, juicy watermelon just begging to be cut open and devoured in the house. 

Suffice to say, you let your brothers figure it out. 

Your consciousness faded into the foreground of your mind as a distant sound of splashing neared. You peaked one eye open, lifting the rim of the hat up to see who dared to encroach upon your isle. 

You could recognize Sungchan's mop of hair from a mile away, at this point. You couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing, but why did it have to be either?

He cropped up right beside you, pushing back his hair to keep the water out of his eyes. “Hi.”

A smile curled onto your lips, teasing. “Hi. Good swim?”

“Good nap?”

“As good as one can be on the open ocean,” you said, shifting the hat up so you could see him better, but keeping your face shaded. “I don't know how dolphins sleep with half their brain on.”

Sungchan's brows rocketed toward his hairline. “They sleep with half their brain on? Crazy.”

“I know. I can't even stay awake with half my brain on.”

You and he shared a laugh, and he set a palm on the board next to your body. “Aw, no,” he assured. “If you've got less than half a brain on at all times, then I've got one brain cell.”

“Joke's on you, half my brain is half a brain cell.”

He wrinkled his nose at you. Cute. “Sweetheart, hate to break it to you, but that's not how brain cells work.”

You nearly fell off the board. “Okay, Mr. Know-it-all, do tell.”

“I'm not about to talk about neurons on my vacation.”

You challenged him with a look. “Overruled, counselor. Answer the question.”

His mouth fell open in a stunned daze, and his reaction made you break face for a moment to laugh. He blinked. “I have to be really honest with you…” Sungchan carded a hand through his hair, then pressed his knuckles to his mouth. “That was really hot.”

Was it suddenly five degrees warmer out here? 

If blood rushing in your ears was akin to the sound of waves crashing, there must have been one hell of a tsunami in your veins right now. 

You sputtered a laugh. “You need to get out of the sun—”

“I'm sorry I said that aloud,” he grimaced sheepishly. 

“Nurse? Nurse!—” You feigned raising your head up to look around for an imaginary nurse in the middle of the ocean. “Oh, right. You are the nurse.”

He groaned, tilting his head back and playfully punching your shoulder. “You're so—”

“Hot?”

You howled at the sight of his cheekbones blooming the color of ripe watermelon. “I'm kidding; I'm teasing!”

He sighed, smiling despite the pain etched onto his gorgeous features. “Never living that down, am I?”

You shifted your position to laying on your stomach now, your arms folded beneath your chin. Sungchan carefully turned the surfboard so the tip faced him, and you were trapped in his gaze, head-on. “It was cute,” you consoled. 

“So you think I'm cute?” He cocked a brow. 

“And you think I'm hot.”

He flicked water at you. “Aaand, there it is!” 

You laughed again, delighted at the red lingering on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. God, he was fucking gorgeous. 

A beat passed for a second. Something settled between the two of you, a thing you couldn't yet put a name on, but it had been there since last night. Or maybe it had been there longer, festering in the negative space between you until said space could become something of a memory. 

You weren't sure why he was here—why he'd swum out here to meet you when his best friend was back at the beach house, gorging on watermelon and getting his ass handed to him in Mario Kart by his siblings; why he all of a sudden occupied a part of your mind like the tide creeping up the embankment at four in the afternoon. At first, he was far enough for you to settle into a false sense of security; until all of a sudden, there he was, the foamy waves lapping at your feet and his smile the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes. 

His tongue swiped over his lips and he cleared his throat. “So, uh, watermelon?” That was his original reason for coming out here. (He did volunteer, after all.)

You perked up. “Right, sure. Watermelon.”

“Great.” He broke into a smile, but the corners of it were softer, fonder. You could get used to the look of it. 

There was this saying—the elephant in the room—but here in the cabin living room, it was definitely more of a blue whale. Just completely out of the water, weighing about thirteen tons, the size of twelve school buses… yeah, that sounded about right. 

“GO FISH!” Anton flung his finger across the circle at Jeno with the glee of a kid on Christmas morning. “Suck it!”

Your mom sent an express glare his way. “Anton.”

Your youngest shrunk down sheepishly. “Sorry, eomma.”

The seven of you were settled in the living space this fine evening with a deck of cards. Your parents were on the couches watching the movie on screen and the game before them, while you, your brothers, and Sungchan huddled around the coffee table playing said game. Sunsoaked and weary, it only took one hearty and filling dinner to perk the lot of you right back up like a field of sunflowers.

“This is a stupid game,” Jeno sulked as he examined his hand of cards. 

“You only say that because you're losing,” you pointed out. “Anyways, Jeno, can I have that three?”

Jeno cut you a glare as the rest of the table rolled into fits of laughter. Your smile was cheeky, reaching out to snatch the three Jeno revealed he had during his turn. 

“That's cold,” Sohee snorted. 

Your eyes darted over to Sungchan opposite you. His eyes were glimmering. “Yeah, I didn't know you had so much ruthlessness in you, Yn.”

“Why do you think she's going into law?” Jeno grunted. Though one card less, it meant that he had one less pair in his finished pile. At this rate, you might win and end up with the most pairs. 

“Guys, it's literally just how you play the game.” You nodded over at Sohee. “Sohee, do you have a jack?”

Your younger brother handed it over without ceremony. “Unfortunately.”

“Anton, do you have an ace?”

He shook his head. “Go fish, noona.”

“See?” You said to the rest of the table, but your eyes went to Sungchan's. “The nature of the game.”

They let you off the hook because you didn't plunder everyone of their cards this round. It continued on with Sohee, then Anton, before landing on Sungchan. 

He made a show of considering his cards, a furrow between his brows. He glanced up at you over the rim of his hand and gestured with a curl of his fingers. “I'd like that ace, Yn.”

“Oooh,” Anton giggled. 

Jeno grinned as you extended the ace across the table to Sungchan. “Karma.”

“Thank you—” his fingers grazed against yours as he plucked the card from your grasp, “—very much.”

You pressed your lips into a small smile, nose wrinkling up at him. You had a few cards left to rid yourself of. 

Your dad cleared his throat as he stood up from the couch to bring his empty bowl to the sink. “By the way, are you kids still going into town tomorrow?”

The five of you exchanged brief eye contact with one another. “Yep.”

The idea had come up during dinner after your parents came back. They'd mentioned a variety of activities and little shops to visit that might be fun for you to see, including a hand churned ice cream shop and a port side arcade building. It would just be the five of you going, while your parents would walk down to the beach trails about a mile from the cabin to go hiking. 

In the morning, you and everyone else in the house took your time getting up and ready for the day. Breakfast was taken together at the table before you split off into your separate parties. 

Jeno took the wheel with Sungchan riding shotgun, and you sat in the middle row with Sohee, while Anton occupied the back. You rolled down your window to rest your chin on the fold of your elbow, your sunglasses slipping down the bridge of your nose as you watched the scenery pass by. 

Right in front of you, Sungchan also had his window rolled down with his arm propped on the lowered sill. He chatted animatedly with Jeno about whatever game he and all three of your brothers were playing this morning, but you could feel his gaze go to his side view mirror more than once. 

The ride was an easy, breezy one. 

The main town center bustled with locals and visitors alike in the late morning. Jeno found free parking about a block away, and the five of you walked over as one big group. 

“Ice cream first!” Anton declared with one arm raised toward the sky. 

“I concur,” you chimed in. You lifted your sunglasses up slightly so you could read the town directory easier. “Seems like we're close by.”

Anton nodded in approval. “Onwards, then.”

You and your youngest brother led the way. The idea of ice cream made your mouth water, especially since you could already feel a bead of sweat dribble down your spine. Why was it so goddamn hot?

The shop was a cute, little building with a pink and white striped awning and a large window in the front that gave visitors a front row view into the ice cream churning experience. You snorted as Anton pressed his nose up against the glass, a wide grin splitting his face. 

“You're scaring the workers, dude,” you jested, tugging your brother along. 

Anton scrunched his nose up at you. “You scare me every morning.”

“Just because you're a wimp when I put toner pads on—hey! Do you want ice cream or not?” You cackled as he attempted to flick you square in the forehead. 

Jeno groaned. “Guys, can we please act normal for once?” He asked as he swung the door open for everyone. 

Sungchan beat you to the punchline, slapping his friend on the back while he ducked inside. “That's rich coming from you, man.”

“Hey!” 

The squabble was swiftly swept out of your mind when you stepped foot into the shop. You were nearly knocked over from the potency of the sugary waffle cone scent that occupied the room. At the sight of tubs upon tubs of frozen treats kept within the display case, your entire face lit up, eyes going glassy with wonder. “Oh no, too many to choose from,” you gasped, cupping the lower half of your face. 

Sungchan chuckled beside you as he crossed his arms and assessed the dozen options before you. “I didn't know you were such an ice cream fanatic, party girl,” he mused. He glanced over at you with a fond sort of gleam in his eye. 

“Don't even get her started,” Sohee groaned. “She and Anton have a sweet tooth to rival Willy Wonka.”

Anton flagged down one of the workers, having already found his targets to try. He was in here for less than two minutes and was already rattling off the entire menu to the poor girl behind the counter. 

“Tiramisu sounds really good,” you muttered. Your eyes moved slowly from tub to tub. Another gasp flew from your lips, and you clasped a hand on Sungchan's shoulder. “Wait—but strawberry shortcake—hhhhh.” You wrinkled your brows together, lips pressed into a taut line. 

This was not good. 

“You could always get a double scoop,” Sungchan suggested. 

You bobbed your head. “That's true, but I'm just worried I won't be able to finish, y'know.”

“Well, maybe I'll get one of the flavors you want and we can split.” His shrug was all too casual. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, biting his lip through a smile. 

The organ in your chest gave a hop, skip, and a leap. You weren't sure if it was at the thought of it all working out alright or if it was because of Sungchan's generous gesture. You were telling yourself it was the former, but you could be persuaded it was the latter if given a light shove in that direction. 

When everyone's scoops were paid for, you fell into a loose formation to stroll around town while you finished your treats. 

You and Sungchan were glued to each other's sides out of necessity since you were sharing flavors. Jeno walked on his other side, however, lapping at his cotton candy blue scoop seated upon a throne of waffle cone. The two youngest walked in front, leading you all to wherever they wished to go. 

The town itself was rather quaint when you finally soaked it in. It seemed like the kind of place everyone knew everyone, and if you were new or only visiting, the locals were just as friendly and welcoming. The town center was stocked with anything a resident might need—a small grocer down the street, clothing stores and restaurants lining the boulevard, a newspaper stand at the corner, a laundromat, a hardware store, and more places you were certain you wouldn't be able to see in just one walk. 

As you scooped a bite out of some of the last bits of tiramisu in Sungchan's cup, Jeno was summoned up to his brothers who were debating over which way they should turn next. You and Sungchan lingered behind to finish off the ice cream in your respective cups. 

Just as you slurped up the melted shortcake ice cream at the bottom of yours, your eyes caught onto a storefront behind Sungchan. It was decked out in cliché boho-chic, with braided nets, shells, and sand dollars in the window and over the door frame. The souvenir shop seemed to embody the quintessential tourist trap, and you didn't mind falling into it. 

“—guys, we're gonna go to the arcade now!” Jeno said, beckoning you and Sungchan over. They must have decided on a route then. 

You made your decision. “You guys can go ahead! I'm gonna pop into this place for a second. I promised I'd get my friend Minjeong something.” Minjeong was one of the few close friends you made at university, and though you didn't promise to her face you'd get her something, you were determined to get her a little trinket as a token of your affection. 

“You're gonna go alone?” 

You blinked. “Yeah, I'll just meet you guys at the arcade.” 

Sohee piped up, “But mom said buddy system.” Okay, you should probably honor that, but it wasn't as if the four of you always followed that rule. 

“I'll go with you.”

All eyes went to Sungchan who tossed his empty cup and spoon into the nearby trash can. He gave a nonchalant lift of his shoulders. “I wanted to get my mom something anyway.”

You tilted your head to the side curiously as Jeno narrowed his eyes at Sungchan, like they were communicating telepathically. Odd. 

In fact, you didn't really know what to think about being alone with Sungchan. There was a difference between coincidentally ending up on the porch together or conversing in the ocean away from everyone else, to purposefully breaking off from the group to spend time with each other. 

Then again, he said he was getting something for his mom. That gave a different implication to him volunteering to accompany you. The goal was capitalism, not something forbidden.

Maybe you were thinking about this too much. 

“Okay, fine,” Jeno relented. “We'll meet you at the arcade, but don't take too long or we'll leave without you.”

“Aye-aye,” you teased, raising a hand to wave goodbye to your brothers. “C'mon, Sungchan.”

You dumped your empty ice cream cup and spoon into the trash before slipping inside the souvenir shop with Sungchan following right after you. You lifted your sunglasses up on top of your head, skin prickling with gooseflesh from the draft of air conditioning wafting overhead. A soft-toned acoustic played in the background, accompanied by the cheery greeting of a staff member from behind the register. 

You and Sungchan lifted your hands in warm reply, then disappeared into the aisles to explore. 

Your fingers grazed along the racks of clothes branded with the beach town's name and minimalist artwork; your eyes roamed over the ships displayed in bottles on the walls, the not-for-sale surfboard hung for decor. Like many souvenir shops, there were several turning displays that boasted rows upon rows of themed keychains with specific names engraved into them. 

“I will never find my name amongst these,” Sungchan mused quietly from beside you as the two of you rifled through the surfboards and seashells and sharks. “And yet, I look for the S names all the time.”

“Valid,” you nodded. “Sometimes I can't find my name either, but it's the hope that gets you.”

“And fails you,” he pointed out.

“Touché.” 

Near the keychain displays stood a tower of hats and head accessories galore. There were crocheted bonnets, straw hats, ball caps, and even headbands. Your expression glittered as you plucked up a headband with twin sunflowers on the top like a pair of antennas. 

After hanging your shades on your shirt color, you donned the headpiece, twirling around to show Sungchan. “Thoughts?” You asked, failing to sweep your grin away. 

Sungchan beamed back at you. “Oh, you're too cute.”

You ignored the heat creeping up the back of your neck to reach for another headband—this time, one topped with red crab claws. Sungchan graciously bowed his head for you to crown him with the piece. 

“Fabulous,” you declared with your hands on your hips. 

He peered into the small mirror to the side of the hat rack. “You think?”

“Of course.” So much so, that you pulled out your phone to snap a picture. You tilted your head toward his to fit both of your faces and headbands in the frame. 

Sungchan peered over your shoulder to take a glimpse at the photos. His tongue was jammed into his cheek, and you could feel his breath along the shell of your ear. “Send me those?”

“I'd need your number first.”

He grinned boyishly, roughing a hand through his hair before taking your phone from you. “You don't even have to ask.”

As he saved his contact information into your phone, you attempted to calm the giddy butterflies in your stomach by peering back into the mirror at the headband on your head. You squished the plush sunflower heads with your fingers, humming thoughtfully. “I low-key wanna buy this.”

He glanced up from your phone before handing it back to you. “If you buy that one, I'll buy this one,” he replied, pointing up at the crab claws on his head. 

“You're such an enabler,” you jested. A beat passed. “Okay, but only if you get it with me.”

“That is what I said,” he chuckled, eyebrows arched. 

The remainder of the time you and Sungchan spent in the shop was mainly to figure out what you would purchase for Minjeong and what Sungchan would buy for his mom. (Mainly, implying that there was still room for shenanigans.) It took a little more than half an hour, but you both emerged from the souvenir shop with a gift bag each, containing your headbands and the baubles bought. 

The arcade was only about a ten minute's walk from your location, so you and Sungchan took your sweet time getting there. As the two of you walked—the backs of your hands grazing against one another, shoulders bumping—you nearly forgot that Sungchan was your brother's good friend. Jeno had never made it a point that you and his friends should never mix, and you knew he could care less about your love life, but this was different. (Was it?) It felt like something that shouldn't happen, and yet, why were you starting to want it so badly?

The outside of the arcade was a cream colored building, much like the others in town, but with large posters on the outside beckoning guests to come in and try their hand. Your brothers texted you to let you know they were in a game of laser tag right now, so that gave you and Sungchan a little more time to yourselves within the arcade. 

“I have an idea!” Sungchan grabbed your free hand and hauled you off toward something in the distance. 

The feeling of your fingers slotting with his had more than just your steps skipping. “Hey, man—you and your long legs need to chill!” You hollered at him through a laugh. 

He sent you a look over his shoulder before stopping at one corner of the arcade. With jazz hands, he presented his marvelous idea. “Ta-da!”

Before you was an all-time classic: Dance Dance Revolution. 

Your eyes widened just as your smile did. “It's like you read my mind,” you marveled. 

The machine was just like the movies with a multicolored screen of bright blues and purples, a platform with two sets of arrows in the floor, and two arched rails at the back for each player to hold onto as they danced the night away. 

Sungchan marched up onto the platform and fished a wadded up paper bill out from his wallet. “Have you played before?”

When the machine devoured his money, the screen leapt to life and blasted its opening music to announce that somebody was willing to step up to the challenge. 

You set your gift bag down at the foot of the platform and climbed up to join him. “I've only seen it done before, but I've always wanted to try it.”

You and he locked eyes, and you were sure the twinkle in his was a reflection of just how excited you were. 

“Well, today is your lucky day, party girl,” he chirped. “Let's see what you've got.”

It didn't take long for you to figure out that “what you've got” was a lot less than whatever Sungchan had. 

You grappled onto the railing behind you tightly as you stomped your feet against the coordinating arrows that flashed on-screen. How long had it been since that fateful first round? Ten minutes? Two days? It was all mashing together. 

“This is unfair; you have longer limbs,” you groaned after missing a few arrows in a row. Why were you so out of breath?

A bead of sweat dribbled down the side of Sungchan's head. It was almost comical how serious you were both taking this game. “I have practice,” he corrected cheekily. 

“Same difference!”

“A master never blames his tools.”

You huffed. “Bullshit.”

At this point, your losses were becoming ridiculous. Desperate times called for desperate measures. 

For a sequence you knew you were going to miss, you leaned over and pinched his side. Sungchan jolted—it did the trick, and he missed the steps. His head whipped over to you, an impish gleam in his irises. 

“Oh ho ho… you wanna play that game?”

You placed your hand on your hip as the round ended. “If I'm gonna lose, might as well go out with a bang.”

His tongue swiped over his lip. “You're on.”

The next round commenced, and adrenaline spiked through you like a spear, more powerful than before. You knew to expect Sungchan's revenge, but you struck first. 

A poke at his side resulted in a tickle at your waist. You returned his parry with a blind poke at his stomach. 

Anticipating his response, you spotted his arm incoming out of your periphery and moved to step out of his reach. Instead of solid platform, however, your breath hitched at the feeling of half your sandal slipping off the edge. 

Sungchan's eyes went wide and his arm instead curled around your waist and hauled you to him. “Shit,” he muttered, “are you okay? Sorry, that was totally my fault.”

Your palms had landed on his chest, your heart rate slowing but not fast enough. All of the excitement in your veins was likely more so from the game itself, and not from almost falling off the platform… and perhaps, another part of it was you realizing just how close you and Sungchan were now. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I'm completely fine; don't even worry about it. And it wasn't your fault—I miscalculated my step and I started it anyway.”

He pressed his lips together. “Still.”

“Nice catch, by the way,” you said quietly. 

You saw his eyes leave your gaze, and this time, you followed in his movements. He ducked his head, almost shyly. “I guess so,” he chuckled. “I'm glad I caught you.”

If anything, your heartbeat was gaining speed again. The hand pressed into your waist was a little more addicting than you would have liked, and his mouth was closer than you thought it had been. 

In the neon glow of the Dance Dance Revolution screen, you and Sungchan leaned toward one another with one aim, and one aim only. 

“Hey guys!” 

You leapt off the dance platform at the same time that Sungchan zipped to his side, gripping the railing with an expression akin to a deer caught in headlights. 

You pressed a hand against your palpitating heart and turned to find all three of your brothers bounding over to where you and Sungchan were. 

“Oh my god,” Anton gasped, “is that DDR?”

It seemed that Anton and Sohee were more focused on the game than yours and Sungchan's compromising position. But Jeno… you noted the suspicious narrowing of his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest…

You swore you and Sungchan swallowed at the same time. 

“Did we interrupt something?” Jeno drawled. 

“Nope!” 

You and Sungchan looked at each other at your simultaneous answer. Great. That definitely wasn't even more conspicuous or anything. 

Jeno pressed his lips together. “Uh-huh,” he said, unconvinced. “Well, Mom and Dad texted and asked for us to meet them at the house, so we've gotta go.” He lifted the screen of his phone up for you to see. Dear god, you hadn't even realized they'd texted the group chat.

You cleared your throat. “Right.” 

You picked up your gift bag, and your younger brothers immediately flanked you on either side to gush about the game of laser tag they had just partaken in. Though you nodded and engaged in their conversation, your mind was elsewhere. 

Plus, it was hard not to be hyper aware of the fact that Sungchan was now alone to face Jeno somewhere behind you. You were not looking forward to the car ride back.

There were always some, unspoken fine lines that should not be crossed—at least, purposefully. In retrospect, you knew Jeno didn't care about who you chose to spend your time with, as long as they treated you right. In the same vein, you didn't care much about what he thought when it came to your own decisions, and yet, you found yourself caring a little more because this was one of his friends. Not yours. 

But feelings were feelings… and you were slowly coming to terms with yours. 

It was like déjà vu when you crept down the stairs in the dead of night for the second time this vacation. You simply could not bear staring at that wooden ceiling any longer with your mind reeling from this afternoon's events. 

The living room was yet again a cacophony of light snoring, and you crossed the room toward the back door once more. 

You paused again, the sight of Sungchan's back a familiar one. Instead of sitting on the porch steps, though, he leaned against the railing, gazing out at the dark waves. It was yet another calm night out on the embankment, but the moon tonight was hidden away behind a few wisps of cirrus clouds. 

He glanced over his shoulder at you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you greeted softly, gently closing the door behind you so you could join him at the railing. It was funny how you both were on the same wavelength. Fate had a funny way of encouraging you.

You and he hadn't properly spoken since the arcade, and Jeno hadn't said a word about it to you either. Dinner had gone on normally enough, so you were unsure of where this all stood. 

“I wanted,” Sungchan began, “to talk to you about something.”

You glanced over at him and found his eyes already on you. “Sure, of course.”

He straightened, gesturing to the sandy beach beyond. “Walk with me?”

You nodded and followed him down the porch steps. Your feet met the cool grains of sand, and a sense of calm seeped into your bones from the bottom up. 

A hand outstretched in your vision, uncertain. You clasped your hand in his palm, and the pair of you began to walk. You couldn't recall whether you began to adore the feeling of your hand wrapped up in his earlier or just now. 

“So…” you trailed off. 

“So,” he picked up. “About earlier today. I wanted to, uhm, make sure we were on the same page about something.” 

He stopped you both when you were a good distance from the house, where the waves slipped along the sand louder than the snores. 

“I had a really fun time with you today,” he said. 

You nodded your head in earnest. “I had a great time with you, too.”

He smiled then, hand letting go of yours to drag over his face. “I'm—I’m happy to hear that,” he replied, and you were sure he was trying to hide his growing giddiness. 

You reached over and gently pried his hands away from his face. “Did Jeno talk to you about today? Did he say anything?” Before he could reply, you added, “Because I know he means well, but who I choose to spend my time with is my decision. If he can't handle us together, then he'll have to learn to suck it up.”

“He did say something to me about it,” Sungchan admitted, “but it was just to make sure I wasn't playing around.” With his hands locked in yours, he gave your palms a reassuring squeeze. “And Yn, I'd like to take you out sometime—properly. No playing around.”

No more toeing the line in the sand. 

Your heart rattled violently in your chest. “I'd really like that.”

His expression melted into something tender, like the dark swirls of molten chocolate in the scoop of tiramisu ice cream. His thumb grazed over the back of your hand. “Okay,” he murmured, barely audible over the soft laps of the waves, “good.”

He considered you for a moment longer, teeth digging into his bottom lip. “I also—I did intend on kissing you earlier today, and I probably should have prefaced it, but—mmmh!”

You looped your arms around his neck and pulled his mouth over to yours. He sank into your hold with a content hum, his hands slipping around your waist to tug you closer to him. You'd never really thought about what kissing Jung Sungchan would be like, but you knew that your imagination couldn't have been better than this. 

When you broke apart with your foreheads pressed against each other and sharing breathing air, you let out a small laugh. The sound coaxed a warm chuckle out of your counterpart. 

“Sorry,” you breathed against his lips, “I probably should have asked first.”

He smiled against you. “You can apologize by kissing me again.”

He most certainly didn't have to tell you twice.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! (idek if that was good, im off my Game and off my Rocker dkfnrj)

m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @meosjinn @fluorescentloves @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @kflixnet

[drugsorgasmsandcheese]

to kiss and to die | l. howlett

old man!logan howlett x fem!grim reaper!reader

description: in which death has never been so peaceful

warnings: logan’s death, angst, fluff, not beta read, pics used are not mine and were found on pinterest, the use of one latin word so if it’s badly translated i do apologise.

word count: 2084

he was used to people on the richer side of town booking his limousine service. it was a limousine service, after all. so logan didn't think much of anything when he pulls up outside of a penthouse building and a young woman steps into the car, giving her name to confirm she ordered the service.

when logan confirms, she smiles and closes the door behind her. she screams money, but old money. there's class about her and the way she holds herself. back straight as she sits, one leg crossed over the other and her head held up high. he can't help but take her in. he's never been one to care about the likeness of a lady a woman could be, but there is beauty that radiates off her, that is her, that logan can't seem to shake.

her head is turned to look out to the window, gazing upon the lights of the city that never sleeps. she seems observant in the way she looks, like not a single detail could be missed by her and she wouldn't allow it if it slipped by. logan's eyes slip down to the outfit she wears: a short black dress with a slit in its side, a pair of sheer black tights, black leather heeled boots that hugged her calves, and a black leather trench coat. she's slick, she's elegant, she holds herself high and with might.

as he drives, he approaches a red light. the woman takes the time to pull out a compact mirror, reapplying her lip liner followed by a clear gloss. when she's done, she smacks her lips and places the items away. "you're a hard man to find, logan howlett."

logan's eyes snap up into the rear-view mirror as he starts the limousine up again. his name on her lips is like honeyed venom, he can't quite decipher the emotion that lingers in him when she speaks of him like she knows him. his hands clench on the wheel as he drove, keeping the ride smooth as he turns a corner.

"who are you?" he asks, his voice gravelly and gruff just like his appearance, eyes flicking between hers and the road.

the woman smiles softly, an odd reassurance about it as she does so. "a mutant, just like you." she speaks, honeyed tone never dropping.

teeth snarl at her response. "that's not an answer." he's lived what feels like a thousand lifetimes, and he knows that even people like him aren't to be trusted.

"'the reaper.'" there's a knowing look on her face as she, the reaper, confirms her identity.

mutants knew her, the stories and legends that were a tale as old as time itself. a mutant that dealt the card of death, one who escorted mutants into the afterlife, who resurrected those she believed were not quite done with living. she was all four horsemen of the apocalypse, a woman that wielded so much power the world was her sandbox. nothing more to play with. to see her was like to see a ghost - blink and she's gone.

his jaw clenches tightly. "and what do you want from me?" logan all but growls out.

"you seek me out. why?" she questions with such poise in her character that it's hard for logan to differentiate between talking to death and indulging in his own delusions.

her questions hangs in the air for a moment or two, it's not like either one are keeping count. he can't find the words, he's never been good with them. he's harsh, he's a brute, a killing machine. when is there time to talk when you're killing yourself by killing another?

but there's a security in her presence. she's reassuring, it's peculiar. he's face to face with death and logan's never felt so settled. "i'm old, and i'm tired. there's nothing left for me here."

the way she smiles at him was a comfort in his own as he pulls up to her destination, the limousine coming to a stop. "there's plenty left for you, logan." she sits forward, and logan only notices how she never wore her seatbelt. he supposed she didn't have to. "just because you are at war, doesn't mean you can't find peace."

there's always the discussion of god being all-knowing, but what of death? what of the reaper who knows your story, who escorts you to the place you shall forever remain. death knows, she knows.

the woman pulls out a slick, black business card that's tucked between her pointer and middle finger, handing it to logan. he takes it so gently that he scares himself. he's a brute and yet he's gentle when the time comes. it appears to just be a simple black card, but even with his weakened vision, he can feel the indents in it. 'THE REAPER.'

"no one understands pain better than death." she says and logan's eyes are still fixated on the card.

death, such a simple term given the complexity and intensity of the situation. of him, of her. the words ring out in his head, no one understands pain better than death.

his gaze snaps up, his expression stoic but calm, like he's accepting whatever fate she'll grant him. he watches as she leans forward and places her hand on his cheek. he never expected death to be so warm.

"don't be what they made you." she whispers, and he lets out a sigh in content, in relief. the weight of his regrets and his lost humanity have hung on him heavily, his shoulders finally being lifted.

it's been a long time since logan's been touched. he doesn't even know if he's ever been held like this, cradled almost. to be looked at in such understanding. solitude and loneliness have kept him a shell. he chased it out, leaning into her touch, and it's like she can see him. the guilt, the regret, the pain.

"that's all i am. that's all i know." logan replies. his voice is strained, like the battle he's fought against himself, in his mind, has finally come to light.

her thumb runs across his cheek slowly, brushing against his grey beard. "if death is what you wish, logan, don't let it be a slow one. you've been tortured long enough." her eyes lock onto his. "good men don't deserve to be tortured, and you are a good man. you are a man, not the soldier, or the monster, or the weapon they forced you into being."

logan's expressions softens at her words. and, for the first time in his life, he's being given a choice. the choice to die. not as a weapon, a monster, a soldier, but as a man.

his hand reaches up, brushing over her own cheek. death is warm. there's an intimacy behind it that he's craved for so long that logan feels like he's falling apart from the inside out, and it's different from how he's felt before.

"you have my card, use it. death is everywhere, logan, and so am i."

the feeling of human connection. he craves it. being secluded and a shell of himself has made him overwhelmed as their skin touches. "death," he murmurs, his voice hoarse and gruff like it always is "and you."

she nods, her lips twitching. "take care of yourself, superstes, it's not your time just yet." she finishes and pulls away, stepping out of the limousine and leaving logan entrapped within his mind. not at war, but at peace.

—

the next time logan sees the reaper is at the funeral. it’s expected, mutant reaper or not she’s bound to turn up when one dies. but he also knows it’s because his fingers had subconsciously stroked the sleek business card in his pocket.

she lingers by his side and he feels himself reaching out, grasping onto her hand and she returns to the touch. death is warm. their fingers interlock, and it’s a reassurance that she gives him like she did last time. like she can read his thoughts.

it’s not your time just yet.

the thought makes him reach into his pocket, fingers itching to grace the adamantium bullet he’s carried like his guilt for years but he can’t find it. it’s then that he realises the weight that settles in between their hands and he looks at her.

she still wears that leather trench coat, and a part of logan wonders if that’s her very own black cloak. it suits her, if it is. the air of sophistication, of elegance still surrounds the reaper, and another part of logan wonders if she’s always been like this, or if there was a time when she succumbed to her powers and became a beast like he had.

the reaper’s gaze meets logan’s, that same soft smile gracing her lips. “not just yet.” she speaks and logan nods, hand squeezing hers. human connection.

she stays with logan when gabriela lopez approaches him, and a part of her seems to physically soften at the sight of the woman. when he questions her about it later, she only responds with a question of her own. “what did i tell you?”

it takes a few seconds to recall. he can’t tell if it’s from the old age so his brain has wore down, or if he was so focused on being touched and looked at like he was understood that he forgot her words, until it clicks. “death is everywhere, and so are you.”

and all the reaper does is nod, not another word spoken. but she was the one who pushed for logan to accept the job of escorting laura, and he didn’t know why. but there is something so alluring about death that he couldn’t say no.

the reaper stays by logan’s side awhile longer, her scythe hanging over him like a thread. there’s a time when her fingers trace the scars over his skin that his weakened healing has failed to take care of of, and the word is uttered from her lips again: “superstes.”

he’s not quite sure what it means, what language it is, but she looks into his eyes as she says it. not at the scars, but at him. and it touches his soul.

there’s another time in the kitchen. the couple who had graced them into their homes after the accident, where it’s just them. there’s the slow music in the kitchen, and if his old self remembers correctly, it’s ‘dream a little dream of me.’

logan’s leant against the counter as the reaper approaches, taking his hand in hers; an offer. he’s reluctant at first, he’s not really one for dancing, but death is so tempting. the weight of the adamantium bullet in his pocket, the way she follows him everywhere.

his calloused hand slips into hers, and it’s not really dancing. they sway on their feet, her clutched close to his chest and his chin rests on top of her head. death is warm, and this is the human connection he has longed for for so long. he wants it to linger, to last longer, he needs it like a beggar, and logan is willing to get on his knees if he has to.

but when x-24 arrives, she’s as good as gone.

—

he meets the reaper again, and it’s like a setback in time the way her hand is outstretched in front of her, and the words escape from her lips in a promised whisper: “it’s your time, superstes.”

logan looks down at her hand and he smiles. it’s genuine, just like the one in his final moments, and he takes the reaper’s hand without a single moment of hesitation.

even in death, she is a warm embrace.

he holds her close to his chest, and logan can’t help but sway like the lyrics are behind them, and the reaper chuckles, following his movements. his head dips down, nose brushing against hers and logan lets out a sob. peace, all he’s ever wanted, has finally settled down upon him. in his death as he held laura’s hand, he knew what it felt like. to be at peace, to be loved, to die.

now, as he places a gentle kiss on the reaper’s lips, he knew what it was like to be loved by death, to find peace with death, to be kissed by death.

death is warm. death is beautiful. death is peace. death is…all a man like logan has ever wanted.

[ssahotchnerr]

hi! What about Aaron coming to help you with a popped tired before work and reader just feels bad about bothering him or whatever but they’re literally going to the same place:) popped my tired this morning and need to live off my delusions 😭

to your rescue

cw; no established relationship, mutual pining, aaron being darling <3 (and hot)

"i'm so, so sorry." your words left you in an exhale, crossing your arms from where you where standing above aaron.

aaron peeked up from his handiwork, brows drawn into a line over his eyes for a moment, before one quirked up in confusion. "you're sorry your tire popped?"

"no. yes." your face burned in humiliation as you leaned against the hood of aaron's car, watching him replace your tire, a small grunt leaving him as he stuck it in place. "that you had to come to my rescue, and do all this. i didn't mean to inconvenience you and i know you probably have a million things waiting for you at work and you probably had to get jack to school and then you get a call from me who-"

you were rambling as result of being so incredibly frazzled, a peaceful morning turned hectic; the brief panic of feeling your tire give out from underneath you, pulling over amidst morning traffic, not knowing how to switch it out, and having to call your boss, who you happened to have the biggest crush on, of all people to come and save you.

"hey, no," aaron shushed you, shaking his head as he set the lug nuts onto the tire. he was also currently sporting a white undershirt, having removed his suit jacket, button-up and tie to prevent dirtying them - allowing his arms to be on full display as his muscles flexed. "first, i'm just relieved you're alright. and it's not an inconvenience at all. this was on my way, and we're inevitably ending up at the same place, aren't we?"

he paused to meet your gaze, eyebrow raised once more, cheekily this time. your head tilted an inch as you considered this, well yeah.

aaron continued, resuming tightening the bolts on the spare. "jack's already at school, he had to go in early for a club. you called after i already dropped him off."

"i could've called someone else though." you huffed, slight heat filling your cheeks again, "like morgan, or road service for god's sake. but, you were the first person i thought of." the end of your sentence trailed off, as you fell on the shy side.

"i'm glad you did." aaron answered earnestly, so sweetly your blush intensified again. "i would've hated driving past and seeing you stranded on the side of the road. if that was the scenario, i would've stopped regardless."

silence fell overtop you both as aaron finished up, the period of time also allowing for your burning cheeks to cool. once the car was lowered, and aaron was fully satisfied your tire was tightly secure, and safe for you to proceed driving on, did he stand up and finish his thought.

"and besides," his sudden lighter tone of voice piqued your focus back to him, "half the time, i'm looking for an excuse to delay getting the workday started." a smile threatened his face, a shiny line of sweat on his forehead. "don't tell anyone that though. it could ruin me."

you laughed despite yourself - your bad mood, and guilt, nearly disappearing. "of course not. i owe you after this."

aaron chuckled softly, closing your car's trunk after putting the ruptured tire inside. he was just walking past you, to put the tools he had retrieved from his car away, when you grabbed onto his forearm, stopping him in his tracks.

"i mean it, i owe you." you forced yourself to look into his piercing, yet soft, brown eyes, your voice low and sincere. "thank you."

a small, closed lip smile tugged at his face, "by the way, you could never be an inconvenience. especially not to me, i can promise you that."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 16

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: I didn't sleep very well but I'm here.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you move North, the sunlight fades sooner and rises later, the nights cooling with each mile. Nearly a fortnight on the road, and you return to the service of the queen. Bryce escorts you between the carts, gesturing in passing to his comrades, other times letting past another body on their own mission. You reach the front of the train where men with swords pace and keep watch over the surrounding lands. 

“Evenin’,” Bryce greets the guards outside the queen’s tent and they grumble back. The weariness of travel has overcome many of the travelers. 

You dip your head down and approach the tent flap. Before the card can pull it back for your entrance, it sweeps open from the other side. You step back as another figure falters before you. The king keeps hold of the silk and his eyes skim over you. He tilts his head and moves to hold the fabric open, beckoning you through with his large hand. 

“Your highness,” you murmur. 

His jaw squares but he says nothing. As you enter, the fabric falls heavily behind you. The king’s expression lingers in your mind, his silence even more. The tick in his cheek was hard to miss and you can hear his heavy footfalls as he stalks off. 

Within, the queen sits on a bench, playing with the tassel of her belt. Her father, Lord Dustan, stands to the side, arms crossed as he makes small steps back and forth. He tuts and chews his thumb. 

“Your husband does not behave as son-in-law,” the duke gripes lowly, “he would have let Debray fall to those vandals. He cares only for his frost lands.” 

“Father, he is only eager to be home. As much as I dread the cold, I cannot help but feel as such. I tire of this endless road,” Queen Jazlene yawns into a cupped hand. 

“Ah, but you must be a loyal wife. What of mine? What of your mother? She was alone in the castle.” 

“And you rode out to save her, didn’t you?” Jazlene prompts. 

“I am a lord of the summer lands, I am past my warring days,” Dustan snarls, “he would risk my flesh on an uprising he could crush with his left hand. He tests me!” The duke circles around as he jabs his finger in the air, “I deserve more dignity, more respect. I delivered him his kingdom.” 

“Yes, father, he is a frigid man,” Jazlene bemoans, “as icy a husband. He does neglect us both.” 

“Neglect?” Dustan faces his daughter, “does he not see to his contract?” 

She frowns and bats her doey eyes as she looks away, “it isn’t that he doesn’t fulfill his duty, it is only... how might I get an heir if I lie with my husband only once in a moon?” 

“Does he mean to deceive us? A son will bind us. A son is what we need. Does he think the summer lands will follow a king who does not sow his seed?” 

“I do not know, father. I... I have tried all I can think of.” 

“Mm,” the duke hums darkly, “that won’t do at all. Not at all. When I married your mother, she was swollen with you almost as soon as the vows were said. No, no, it won’t do. I will have word with the king, make certain he does not treat my daughter, his queen, so coolly.” 

Dustan stop and twiddles his fingers. You try to imagine him confronting King Geralt. Surely it is bluster for the sake of his daughter. 

“...we are ruined without an heir...” he mutters. 

Jazlene sits forward on the bench, “ruined, father? I am queen--” 

“Yes, yes, you are queen, but a queen has her duty too,” Dustan insists, “and it cannot be done with a negligent king. Leave it to me, daughter. The next I see the king, I shall handle our business. As I have ever done. Do you believe in me? For I did deliver you a fine marriage, didn’t I?” 

“Yes, father.” 

The duke goes to his daughter and rubs her shoulder. He leans in and you shrink against the tent wall, making yourself small. 

“Should it prove poor judgment,” his whisper scratches from his lips, “I will figure a way out.” 

He kisses her hair and turns to march out. He takes not notice of you though that is expected. Jazlene sighs as the flap falls and she leans back on her hands, swaying her leg. 

“Ah, the maid,” she cheeps, “you will fetch hot water for my feet. They ache.” 

“Yes, your highness.” 

She grins, a catlike expression and sits up straight, “yes, that is right. I am a queen and soon, the king will be certain to treat me as such.” 

You flit off to your duty. As you emerge, your chest stirs with unease. Something about their conversation has you unnerved. Though they said nothing outright, it feels as if there is more laced between the words. The queen and her father hardly sound as allies to the king. 

You try to wipe the apprehension from your mind. You are but a maid and not so well-versed on noble matters. It isn’t your place to unpiece their declarations or untangle their riddles. You are to get the water to sooth the daughter of Debray’s feet, it may yet save you a box to the ears. 

⚔️

You shiver as the cart bounces over the hard ground. You count a month or so since your departure from the capital though the days blend in a fog. The gradual creep of the chill has advanced upon the part, slowing the wheels, and sending the riders to pause and cover their horses. You keep the fur cloak over your lap as you lean into the corner of the cart though Bryce seems enlivened by the atmosphere. 

The dim sky harkens the crossing of the intangible barrier between the summer and winter lands. Sprawling plains and rounded feels give way to rocky passes and jutting mountains, interspersed with lumpy tundras speckled with patches of mud. Several times, your soldierly escort has had to help yank free the wheels from some rut or another. 

“Are we there?” You ask through as chatter, blowing into your hands. “The Hinterlands?” 

“Mm, by my guess, we are at the Fox’s Tail. You see, it is the little strip of land where no man lives, summer or winter,” he explains, reaching to scratch his beard. You envy the warmth it must give to his cheeks. “Isn’t so cold yet, mouse, better brace yerself.” 

You nod and look ahead at the grey, brown expanse. There are dustings of frost but not snow, only on the distant caps of rugged mountains that shadow the horizon. You hug yourself as Daisy’s breath plumes in misty clouds around her head. 

“Why does no one live here?” You ask. 

“There are no trees, no grass to feed the livestock or game,” he shrugs, “it is barren...” he sucks his teeth and thinks, “there was a war. Hundreds of years ago, maybe more. The summer folk spilled upon the winter lands, some squabble over a slain lord... they put salt to the earth. They did not only want vengeance on the living, they wanted their descendants to suffer for their misdeeds. Starve out an entire people.” 

He snorts and shakes his head, “what the summer people didn’t understand is that the winter skinned do not stay still. They move with the winds. You’ll see, mouse. You haven’t done the last of yer scurrying.” 

You huddle down as another cold breath sweeps through the air. You’re not used to it but you will be. That’s how it always is. You just have to take what you get and make it work. You can’t complain for what you have; a warm cloak, a cart, and a kind companion. 

⚔️

Your teeth chatter as you hold closed the front of the fur cloak, the hood over your head as you walk the frozen earth. More often than not, you’ve left the prized cape in your cart for your return. It is too heavy to wear while serving the queen but the weather permits you no mercy. It is far too bitter to forgo the extra layer. 

Bryce is unbothered in his mail and the simple fur trim the collar of his wool cloak. He only seems to thrive in the dipping temperatures, stoking a fire for your nocturnal return so that you may sleep in its warmth. His constancy keeps you from mourning the lost summer sunshine. 

He stands behind you as you cross to the queen’s tent, now raised with several layers to insulate the walls. You enter as you do every night, unnoticed as Queen Jazlene mindlessly stares into the pages of a book. She’s grown quiet these last weeks as the travel wears on her, even her wardrobe showing the effects. 

You feel a gust from beneath the tent wall and step away from it. You watch the queen, huddled beneath a blanket on a stool, shaking as she tries to warm her hands in each other. She wears several satin cloaks layered over each other but the fabric is too sleek to garner much heat. 

She puffs into her palms and groan.  

“Damn this cold,” she mutters, then sits up, “maid, tea!” She demands, “Something warm! Anything!” 

You utter a small “your highness” and spin away to your task. You step out into the cold and go off to find a fire and a pot. The queen has some berry tea in her chests.  

You acquire a cup of steaming water from a cluster of servants around a flame. You linger for a moment to absorb some of the fire’s haze then set back toward the royal tent. As you near, a shadow nearly collides with you. You keep the cup balanced as you scramble around the figure. The torch light catches the king’s golden eyes as they meet yours. 

“Your highness,” you murmur. 

He grunts as he stops fully. He stares down at you wordlessly. You cannot read his expression as shadows dance around his features, flickering various emotions across his face. He bows his head and presses on. You turn to watch him go as concern rolls up your throat. 

In those last weeks, months you believe, you’ve not seen much of the king. You’ve wondered after his elusivity. At first, you thought it might be due to the combat at Debray, perhaps he was disheartened by the last act of resistance. Then you surmised it might be evasion of his own wife. Alas, you could not guess and fathomed it was not your place to do so. 

This brief encounter further perplexes you. You can’t help but question if it is you. You recall the last day in the capital, the grit of his voice casting you out. Go. The memory ripples through you. 

You think much of yourself. It wouldn’t be anything to do with a paltry maid. You focus on the hot water in your hand and continue on to the queen’s tent. 

You enter and wrap the dried berries and leaves, steeping them in the steaming water. You hover over the cup, waiting for the water to deepen in hue and cool enough to drink. When you bring it to the queen, you feel her gaze upon you. 

“Your highness,” you hand her the cup. 

She hesitates to take it, only doing so after deep consideration. She holds the tea in one hand as her other tugs on your cloak. She makes an ugly noise. 

“And where did you find this, maid?” She sneers. “Hmm, I sit her in my summer garb and you wear a bear’s skin?” 

Your lips part and you raise your shoulders. You look at the tent wall and frown. You poke your hand outside the cloak and touch the soft fur.  

“Your highness,” you look down at the cloak then at her trembling grasp on the cup. “Would you like it? You look awfully cold.” 

“Yes, I want the damn cloak!” She yanks it hard, “I am the queen and you did not think to offer me a proper cloak? How stupid are you.” 

You bow your head and reach to unbuckle the cloak. When it is loose, you shrug it off and hand it over. You will find a spare blanket. There must be some left among the luggage. 

She shoves the cup at you and stands. She swings the cloak around her and hums as she pulls its snug around her figure. She sits again and rubs her chin against the fur. 

“Much better,” she says, “I’ve been suffering this damnable place for far too long.” 

She takes the tea back, spilling a drop on your hand. You back away, the liquid cooling and sending a new chill through you. You cover one hand with the other and clutch tightly, locking your jaw against the tremor that crawls up your spine. 

The queen slurps from the tea and makes a face. She sneers, “I want wine,” she pouts, “how long must I be deprived? Wine!” She snarls down at the cup, “but I must drink this bile. Oh, but the king bids it,” she raises her voice mockingly, “you must obey your husband.” She shakes her head and takes another gulp, “at least it is warm. At least--”  

She holds the cup away from her suddenly as her face twists. She drops it and recoils, panic washing over her. She keels forward, holding her skirts out of the way as she spews onto the rug spread over the hard ground. She wretches loudly, spasming with the horrid sounds snagging in her throat. 

The smell of her vomit permeates the tent. She stays bent over her lap as she pants. You come forward and offer her a handkerchief to wipe her mouth. She sits up and gulps tightly, her features drawn. She pats her lips. 

“Well, clean it up,” she turns her feet away from the puddle between them. “Stupid maid.” 

She pokes a sharp nail into your arm and you wince.  

“Your highness, are you unwell?” You ask, “shall I fetch a physician? Or some ginger?” 

“No, you stupid cow, I am not unwell,” she flicks her fingers at you before waving away the stench of her bile. She stands and walks away from it, her hand settling on her middle. She faces you and smiles broadly, “I am carrying the king’s son.” Her face darkens as she wrinkles her nose, “I told you, you twit, to clean that up. You best do so before I make you eat it.” 

You nod and bend your neck, “yes, your highness, I will fetch water.” 

“I don’t care, just do it,” she snaps and rubs her stomach. She lets out a shuddery groan and turns her back to you. You watch as she draws tight the cloak and sways with a trill, “I will be a true queen now. He cannot deny me any longer.” 

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: a PJO AU

-

Cellbit hasn't been a demigod since he was eight years old staring a snake woman in the eyes in downtown Manhattan. It's been almost ten years since then, and he hasn't bothered with the gods since. (Good riddance.)

But then, of course, Richarlyson.

And then, of course, the spiders.

Oh, the spiders...

So now Cellbit has Richarlyson in the back seat of a stolen car with Pac and Mike on either side of him, Felps riding shotgun and shouting insults at the dozen or so dog-sized spiders chasing them down the highway. They're just under five minutes away from where Cellbit vaguely remembers camp being, which means Richarlyson is just under five minutes away from what is going to be the worst day of his life.

(Cellbit never got claimed, thank the gods. Mike says that he doesn't believe in divine authority, so he won't recognize whoever his parent is. Pac is long-claimed by now, but this also isn't his camp or pantheon. And Felps is... Felps.)

Richarlsyon has his headphones on, and he's watching The Lorax on his tablet (also stolen.) This is probably why the spiders are chasing them, but Cellbit doesn't have the heart to take it away from them.

Spiders... eugh. Of course, it just had to be spiders.

Cellbit watches a spider lunge for the driver's side door via the side mirror.

With a grimace, he takes one hand off of the wheel and slams his door open with his free hand.

The spider goes flying, and it's immediately run over and squished into a spider-shaped mass of goo on the road.

"Ewwww," Pac complains.

Cellbit wrinkles his nose in agreement. He pulls his door shut and stabilizes the car and tries not to think about how the squished-up spider is going to reform in a second and come after him and probably, like, murder him in his sleep after he drops Richarlyson off.

(The downside of refusing to associate with the gods for a decade is a distinct lack of celestial bronze weaponry. Except for...)

"Keep an eye out for a sign," Cellbit tells the others. "It's... strawberries? Something about strawberries."

The car jerks as a couple of spiders leap onto the trunk and start hissing.

Cellbit swears and sharply turns the car to the left, sending the spiders- and Mike- flying.

Mike shouts, and then he screams as a spider jumps up onto the window next to him.

"What the fuck?" he yells. "Pac!"

"Got it!" Pac cheerily says.

With only a little hesitation, he unbuckles his seat belt, leans across both an unbothered Richarlyson and a freaked-out Mike, rolls the window down, and stabs the spider through with the blade of his gladius. The spider screeches and dissolves into dust.

One down, so many more to go.

Pac grins and sits back in his seat. He ruffles Richarlyson's hair as he does so, retracting his sword back into his watch and re-buckling his seat belt.

Cellbit turns his attention back to the road. No signs yet... but it's also been ten years since he's been in New York, let alone at camp. Things could have changed. Things probably did change, and probably not for the better. Maybe the campers lost the war. Maybe the Titans won (but probably not considering the world hasn't been destroyed in the years since 2009.) Maybe Bagi-

"Delphi Strawberry Service," Felps hums. He looks at Cellbit. "Is that it?"

Cellbit answers by jerking the car so hard to the right that everybody inside, himself included, is pulled to the side. He grits his teeth and tries to stay as upright as he can.

(Why is he the only one who can drive, again?)

The car pulls onto a familiar gravel road. There's a tall tree on the hill ahead of them. Even through the windows, Cellbit can smell the scent of sweet, fresh strawberries and bonfire smoke. There are people on the hill braiding flowers.

The spiders continue giving chase. One must manage to puncture one of the tires with its fangs, because one of the lights on the dashboard goes red, and the car starts to wobble and slow down.

Cellbit groans and presses his foot to the gas. "Nooo, come on!"

They're so close! He can see the Golden Fleece waving in the wind.

He can also see a very large statue of a woman towering above the treeline. She looks... familiar. In a bad way.

Cellbit shudders and tears his eyes away from the statue. It's none of his business, anyway; he's just dropping Richarlyson off, and then he and the others are leaving before they're noticed.

Another tire is popped. The car stops.

Finally, Richarlyson takes his headphones off.

"Where are we?" he asks.

Cellbit tries to smile at him through the rear-view mirror.

"We're going to summer camp, remember?" he attempts.

Richarlyson- six years old and too smart for his age- does not appear to be too happy about that statement. Makes sense, he didn't want to leave California in the first place. Cellbit doesn't blame him; the weather is much more tolerable there than it is in New York.

The car shakes as spiders start climbing it. They start trying to break through the windows using their evil little spider legs and their absolutely horrifying spider fangs: enormous pointy things oozing a purple liquid that bubbles as it hits the glass.

Cellbit bites back a whimper. They're so big...

Pac's mouth narrows. He presses the button on his watch and only flinches a little as his gladius pops out of it.

Mike steels himself. He clicks his seat belt off, and he picks his bag up off of the floor and puts it in his lap- ready to run.

Felps, though, smiles wide and turns around in his seat to look at Richarlyson.

"Are you ready to run again?" he asks.

Richarlyson is good at many things, but he's best at running away from his problems (just like everyone else in the car), and the killer spiders are definitely problems.

So Richarlyson nods and clutches his tablet to his chest. He should really leave it behind, but...

"On the count of three," Cellbit tells everybody.

He takes his seat belt off and gets his backpack from the floor by his feet. He checks his boot and lets out a tense breath. Okay. It's there.

"Um," Cellbit says.

The spiders manage to crack the back windshield. Richarlyson gasps and rushes to take his seat belt off.

"Dois."

Pac yanks his seat belt off and grabs the door handle. His eyes flicker between the spiders and Richarlyson and Mike and Cellbit and Felps, though they linger on Felps for just a moment too long to be normal.

(Oh, Pac...)

"Três!"

Cellbit shoves the door open and jumps out of it, pulling his knife from his boot and stabbing it right into the abdomen of the closest spider.

"Wait, you meant on three!?" Pac screeches, tumbling out of the car and swinging his gladius at the nearest group of spiders.

"Yes!" Cellbit snaps. "What did you think I meant?"

He rips the knife out of the spider, panting heavily from both fear and exhilaration. The edges of his vision are red and dripping with blood, but the spider simple crumbles into dust at his hands.

Mike stumbles out of the car, Richarlyson in his arms and his bag on his back.

"I thought you meant after you counted to three!" Pac shouts.

He spins in a neat circle and manages to decapitate two spiders at once. They dissolve, but two more spiders take their places immediately.

Mike takes off down the road towards the hill, grumbling about Richarlyson's weight as he goes. Richarlyson starts talking about Mike's weight in return, and there are spiders.

There are spiders.

Oh fuck.

Knife's effects be damned, Cellbit screams and jerks backwards in sheer terror as a spider scrambles onto his side of the car. He falls onto his ass on the gravel and scoots away, eyes wide. His hands shake and his vision flickers back into something resembling normalcy and he can't breathe- fucking spiders, of course they're spiders! What else would they be? Fucking spiders, of course!

"Cellbit!" Pac cries.

"I've got him," Felps says, finally getting out of the car.

He calmly raises his arms above his head and stretches. As he does so, he walks around the side of the car and crouches by Cellbit's side.

"These things suck," he tells Cellbit, voice so low that Cellbit is convinced that only he can hear it. "Let's just run away."

There's just that smallest hint of magic in his voice, but Cellbit isn't worried about it. No, he's used to it. He's known Felps basically since he ran away, he's more than used to it.

His body stands. Cellbit only comes back to himself as he's approaching the hill, Felps and Pac close behind.

He skids to a stop just in front of the camp borders. He can seen Mike and Richarlyson already safe on the other side, and he can see a group of campers gathered around them and attending to Richarlyson, whose fake tears are convincing enough to get three or so campers to give him all of their flower crowns and chains.

Pac crosses the border and shivers. He immediately runs to Mike's side, clicking his gladius away and taking Richarlyson from him.

Felps stops next to Cellbit.

"Come on," he whispers. "The spiders, man."

Cellbit gulps. He feels all tingly; the statue of the woman stares angrily down at him, furious over his very existence.

A spider hisses, entirely too close to Cellbit for his comfort.

He yelps and rushes across the border, and it feels like his first breath of fresh air in a decade as he does so.

He hates it.

Felps follows, sticking close to Cellbit's side. He smiles and waves politely at the campers staring at the two of them.

Or, well. Staring at the air over Cellbit's head.

One of the campers, a taller boy with messy brown hair and a blue bandana loosely tied around his forehead, looks positively befuddled. Why?

"Don't get any bright ideas," Cellbit warns the campers. "I'm not staying. None of us are."

Richarlyson raises a dejected hand. "Except for me. They're abandoning me..."

He bursts into a fresh round of crocodile tears. Most of the campers coo and gather around him and Pac and Mike; Cellbit watches as Pac steals the watch off of a girl's wrist, and as Mike snags a solid handful of golden rings from several different campers. (Nothing ever changes.)

But the boy with the bandana keeps staring at Cellbit.

Slightly unnerved, Cellbit shuffles closer to Felps, who ignores him and looks up at the statue with his hand acting as a visor over his eyes.

"Oh, look. The Athena Parthenos," he comments. "When did that get here?"

Athena...

He nudges Cellbit in the side with a grin. "Look, Cellbit. It's your mom!"

...What?

"No," Cellbit firmly says, completely ignoring the various puzzle pieces clicking into place in his head. "I don't have a mom. Now, come on, we need to take care of the..."

He trails off as he turns around and sees the gaggle of spiders pressed up against the camp's barrier hissing and quivering and oozing.

His voice trails off into a whisper: "...spiders."

He can't help it. He drops his knife in shock, and, as he does so, an ice-cold needle jams itself into the side of his brain.

Cellbit immediately drops to his knees and scrambles to pick the knife up. He wipes it on his jeans, holds it, looks at it, loves it.

His reflection in the blade is clear. The glowing golden owl symbol floating above his head is even clearer.

"Told you," Felps says.

Cellbit reaches back and smacks his leg. Felps kicks at him. Cellbit smacks him again.

Richarlyson starts crying again. This time, he sounds serious. (He is only six...)

Cellbit sighs and stands, carefully tucking his knife back into his boot as he does so.

As he raises his head, he's met with the boy with the bandana standing only a foot or so away from him with his hands in his pockets.

"Hey," he says, "so if you don't want to stay, keep away from the training grounds. The Athena cabin is down there, and I... well, let's just say the head counselor is gonna want to see you."

He winks, and he walks off to join the other campers.

The Athena cabin's head counselor... who? If he's, then... oh, fuck.

Cellbit grabs Felps' arm and looks up at him desperately.

"Kill the spiders," he begs. "Please. We need to get out of here."

Felps pats the back of Cellbit's head reassuringly.

He smiles. "No."

And then he goes to squeeze through the campers to get to Richarlyson, who immediately brightens upon seeing him.

Cellbit looks at the spiders. He looks at the- what did Felps call it?- Athena Parthenos. He looks at the campers.

He looks at the hill as there's a scream from it, a screechy: "What the fuck? Are those spiders?"

The boy with the bandana looks up at the girl on the hill and offers a wave. "Bagi! Hey! I thought you were training?"

"I heard screaming," the girl explains. "I came to help."

She has a sword in one of her hands and a shield in the other. She's gotten her nose pierced in the last ten years. She looks... happy.

Quietly, Cellbit starts backing away. If he can make it into the woods and then run, he might be able to outsmart the spiders before they can catch him.

The girl looks at Richarlyson. She looks at Pac and Mike and Felps.

And then she looks at Cellbit, and she drops her sword.

Yeah, no.

Cellbit turns on his heel, and he books it into the forest.

He hasn't been a demigod in ten years, and he sure as hell isn't going to start again now.

[thedivineart]

Confirmation Signs To Determine Your Future Spouse

ꕀ ׅ࣪ ꒰ ✮ ꒱ links : navigation. send love.

pacs. paid services.

one

wishing well, a fountain, throwing coin and wishing in fountain, unexpected meeting, receiving the most special gift from someone, a lost purse/wallet, climbing alone in mountain to reduce stress/ hangout, being alone without feeling lonely, a dog coming towards you, small home in forest, cross roads, being happy in other people relationship, going to building/institutions to fix legal documents, a friends to lovers trope, visioning your past life, a gallantry from someone, aiming financial achievement, lucky money wins, a nest eggs, flames, mutual feelings with someone, being flirt, co-worker, a new friend, ships, a little home/cottage, new house/places, moving to a new place, soulmate connection, meeting perfect person/ ideal lover, seeing lots of abiding love, wedding, wedding rings, hurt/painful feeling, hospital/doctor, unrequited love

⋆ feel free to ask question you didn't understand in this reading

‹𝟹 leave like or re-blog when you love it !

two

changing location whether it is for work or residency, when you heal from the past, starting a new, stork, a invitation for a event, gifts ( receive or give ), helpful advice from someone, receiving lots of good news, a clock/time, your hate and fear towards someone, a handshake, a journey ( travel ), birds, sharing ( partnership), food, restaurant/ fast-food places, notice of correspondence from important bills, writer/ journalist, financial loans/help, being at your lowest point such as feeling trapped/tired/staying at home/unhealthy situation, a friend betrayal, older than you, foreign, lawyer/authority, being attack, an enemy, invitation in weddings or engagements, church, cemetery, thinking negative/ having negative thoughts, a large body of water such as beaches, pools, fountains etc, night, cold weather/winter, locks, fishes, physical union with someone, a mending of broken friendship/ex love, party, clubs

⋆ feel free to ask questions you didn't understand in this reading

‹𝟹 leave like or re-blog when you love it !

three

younger, foreign / leader, bad girl & boy image/personality, unexpected kiss, feeling lonely, a new lover/person, family oriented, lady and moody, soulmates connection, unexpected friendship with someone, horse/sagittarius, a good news coming, an artist/poet, student of arts, athletic body or an athlete, lack of focus in commitment, receive or give gifts, fountains, generous, wears uniform that symbolize their position at work, a friend, co-worker, a peer, taking time to heal the wounds of the past, in park, in forest, walking around and meeting someone new, having time alone, wandering in woods, in the big trees, travel, achievement, lucky breaks, successful moving up ( at work or something), the space, distance, someone is far away, delay, receiving love letters and bouquet of flowers, country side, simple life, money surrounds them, professional person, workaholic and less focus on love, a bank; good at handling finances, provides good advice in finance, a happy family, fire/burning, summer, evening, warm weather country, good judgement, social

⋆ feel free to ask questions you didn't understand in this reading

‹𝟹 leave like 🙵 re-blog when you love it !

four

authority, can be foreign, arrogant, weddings, older, negative emotions, large body of water such as beaches, pool, fountains, lake, pond etc, night, cold weather/winter, a dog, a friend, a church, a purse, money, financially stable/ wealthy, office, jewelry box, a social butterfly, enjoy clubs and socializing, likes to be busy and active, wine, travel, trips via water, clouds, heavy rains, good partner, sensual, good at financial advice, an expensive wedding of a friend, children, financially secure, fixing cars, lily, workaholic, trying their best at difficult situation, lion, a Leo sign, quite, electric, jealous and possessive, like to give great advice, streets of gold

⋆ feel free to ask questions you didn't understand in this reading

‹𝟹 leave like 🙵 re-blog when you love it !

© thedivineart. do not plagiarize any of my work, translate or repost it on other social media platform.

[mysticheathenn]

What Would Make You Happy?

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is about what will make you happy in your life right now with your current energy.

Remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

MasterList

Patreon Link

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Pile l:

What Would Make You Happy? Tarot: 6 of Wands (reversed), 10 of Swords, The Hanged Man, King of Wands, 8 of Wands, 7 of Cups (reversed)

Two words: Life Purpose & Rapid Movement. You want life to get to the good part pile l. Some of you could be struggling with your circumstances and feel that you don't have any other options in life because you either lack money, a support system, or you just can't see anything past your limiting belief system not knowing that the world is your oyster. You want life to literally stand at the side of the road like a cartoon character holding up signs of what path, direction, or what should happen next so you can help progress and bring in more of what you want in your life because you are tired of being in the same place. You are tired of feeling defeated like nothing you do is helping your situation. I Need a Hero (Shrek 2 Version) is playing in my head. Overall you just want to begin living your life in your purpose if not purpose you want to feel as if you are meant something on this earth like you aren't just here taking up space. You want to live a passionate and fulfilling life where you don't feel drained, anxious, unstable, or limited in the things you want to do, and even to some you want to be of service to those around you/community.

Extra Messages: Moonology Manifestation Oracle Deck Oracle: Step into Your Power & Work Through Your Feelings

"Achieving anything is nearly always part inspiration and part hard work. Believe that you can create whatever you want. Be You! Take action and be smart but also bold."

Some of you just need to ask for help. Your guides have been trying to communicate with you but you either are a) passing everything off as a coincidence or not believing that the path being shown to you is for you because you lack confidence or b) You need to be more grounded and meditate, do some yoga, journaling, whatever it is that you do to ask your guides, ancestors, the universe for help. That may even look like prayer for some of you.

Pile ll

What Would Make You Happy? Tarot: Queen of Wands (reversed), Ace of Cups (Upright), 7 of Cups / 4 of Swords / 5 of Wands (All reversed)

One Word: Fulfillment. You may have been drawn to pile l, pile ll. A Boondocks quote came to me "Huey: Grandad, what do you do when you can't do nothing and there's nothing you can do. Grandad: You do what you can. " Like pile l you are tired of life trying to knock you down every chance you get but for a lot of you, this is more of a mental thing than life doing anything. Most of you may feel that you aren't good enough, there is someone better than you, believing in imposter syndrome, or even anxiety. Not knowing that all you need is a change in your mental health. Stop believing in the voices in your head, the nay-sayers that told you once 10 years ago you would never amount to anything or even the results you see from lack of clients or progress. You are your own enemy, only you can put a stop to your madness and begin believing that you can achieve greatness and the fulfillment you want out of your life. Your thoughts reflect your reality. If you feel you aren't good enough...why should others believe you are too? If you believe your art, craft, or services are crap...life is going to prove to you with no sales, clients, etc because you believe it is true.

Extra Messages: Moonology Manifestation Oracle Deck Oracle: Open to Change, Take A Reality Check, Lighten Up

Be open to having a reality shift pile ll. What is the worst thing that could happen if you believe in yourself? Seriously what bad thing could happen if you decided to be your own cheerleader and believe you are worth more than what yourself and others have to say to you? Bet on it - High School Musical (Song link: http://tinyurl.com/262djrbw ) is playing in my head.

"I'm not gonna stop, that's who I am I'll give it all I got, that is my plan Will I find what I lost? You know you can Bet on it, bet on it, bet on it, bet on it (Bet on me) I wanna make it right, that is the way To turn my life around, today is the day Am I the type of guy who means what I say? Bet on it, bet on it, bet on it, bet on it

The answers are all inside of me All I gotta do is believe"

Pile lll:

What Would Make You Happy? Tarot: 9 of Swords (Upright), Knight of Swords, 7 of Cups/ 7 of Pentacles / 6 of Cups (All reversed)

One Word: Self Care. You have a lot of mental and emotional turmoil going on inside of you, pile lll. For most of you, this is limiting beliefs, anxiety, and depression. But overall I am sensing that you just want to feel not only appreciated but to not feel the burdens of everyday life on your shoulders. You may be the type who takes on way too much even the struggles and worries of other people. You need to release those worries and struggles. They are not yours to carry, if people around you don't care enough to do something for themselves why should you?? That is not yours to worry about. I know you are probably thinking well someone has to care...yea..but that person can't be you pile ll. You are literally tearing yourself down for other people just for them to what....get back with their toxic ex, overspend their budget asking you for money, etc etc..cut the cord. You need to worry and focus on yourself. You need you more, now than ever. Pamper yourself pile lll. Do a DIY spa day if you are short on money. Make a face mask or buy those $5 ones at the store, soak your feet in some Epsom salt, and play your favorite childhood movies. Relax. Maybe even get a massage if you have that kind of money. If you can turn off your phone for a weekend and focus on nobody but yourself. Ask yourself what do you want to do?

Extra Messages: Tarot: Judgement, Ace of Wands / The Chariot (reversed), Strength, 4 of Cups.

(Short Message for a very few) What you want is yours for the taking. All you have to do is ask....but you need to be sure what you want you have the strength for. Whatever this is for you pile lll just know that you are the only person in the driver's seat. It's time for you to decide what you want, where you want it, and when can you start. It's up to you to answer the call.

I hope this reading was insightful and gave some clarity or even guidance. Thanks to everyone who likes, reblogs my posts, and joins my Patreon. I always appreciate you <3.

Until Next time stay blessed and be safe.

The next pick acord reading will be for my Cosmic Stargazers on Patreon...not sure when it will be up but most likely before Monday or Tuesday.

[myobmaya]

Slow Burn | Eddie Munson

Eddie munson x fem!reader (established relationship with mechanic!eddie)

Description: after a long day of work, you just need the comfort of your boyfriend

Tw: smut. just sex with eddie.

for my eddie gir™️l @boomhauer I hope this makes up for the times we bombarded you with Steve (one day we’ll get you to admit you’re truly a Steve girl)

The voices of Metallica blast through the small auto shop off the side of the road in the small town of Hawkins. It’s one of three that the town offers, but the only one that seems to be open closer to midnight.

An orange 1969 Ford Mustang sits in the garage. Eddie Munson lays under the car fixing up some mechanical problems humming the words to his favorite songs. He’s the only one in the shop. His other two mechanics long gone hours ago leaving him alone to work. Or so he thinks.

You lean against the doorway watching the way his foot taps from under the vehicle. Despite the long shift wearing you out, you find enough energy to be at your boyfriend’s shop instead of going home.

Today was a rough day.

You didn’t want to go home to an empty house. You need to be around the person that could make you forget your boss’s lack of help and the patrons cruel words.

Not wanting to startle him, you lean over and stand on your tippy toes to reach the radio that sits on the counter beside the doorway. Your fingers turn the knob down and the music goes from deafening to a more appropriate level.

Eddie’s turning his wrench on a pipe when he hears his voice rather than James Hetfield’s singing the lyrics. He turns his head to the doorway for a clue and sees a familiar pair of shoes.

A big grin spreads like butter across his face and he’s pulling himself from under the car.

Eddie’s eyes squint as the light hits them. The flashlight he had propped under the car gave him just enough light to work with, but not enough for his eyes to adjust.

It only takes him a few seconds for the sting of the lights to go away. Once they do, you fill his sight and his chest fills with warmth.

He grabs the rag that sits on the hood of the car. He makes his way towards you wiping the visible grease from his hands. His hands are stained with the car residue, a familiar sight you’re used to.

You push yourself off the door and meet him halfway.

“Hi, baby,” Eddie greets you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. The other holds your cheek as you entangle your arms around his back. He puckers his lips giving you a quick kiss.

You pull back but keep yourself wrapped up in him.

“Whatcha doin’ here?” He asks, stroking his thumb against your cheek.

You lean your face against his palm. He takes notes of your tired eyes and the worn out look on your face.

It didn’t matter if you tried to hide your emotions. Eddie always held the key to unlock what you try to hide in your head.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. His eyebrows are furrowed as his thumbs stroke your cheek bones.

You shake your head not wanting to talk about work right now.

“I just needed to see you,” you lean forward and steal another peck from him. Eddie smiles cupping your face. He squeezes your cheeks together causing your lips to pout.

He laughs and gives you a peck. Your plumped up lips causing the two of you to enjoy the silliness.

“Well, I’m happy to be of service.” You give him a tired smile. He returns it before glancing at the clock on the wall. It’s nearing midnight. He looks back at you and the needy look in your eyes is enough for him to conclude he’s closing up the shop for the night. The car he was working on can wait until morning.

You let him take one of your hands into his.

He makes his way to the couch that sits to the side of the garage. An area he often used when he needed a break or to catch a nap after long hours.

Eddie takes a seat and pulls you right onto his lap. Your legs settling over his, your arm encircling around his neck as you lean against his chest. His hand rests on your knee holding you closer to him while the other meets your hip.

You feel his thumb begin to absentmindedly trace small circles on the side of your waist. His touch is already setting a flame in you.

He brushes back your hair tucking it behind your ear, “What’s going in that beautiful head of yours, doll?”

The lost look in your eyes tells him you’re swimming in your thoughts. And he’ll do anything to pull you back in.

When you don’t reply right away, he presses his lips to your neck. He keeps it innocent, leaving it as soft pecks as he makes a trail up to your cheek and back down.

“You know,” you take a deep breath trying not to bring yourself to another stress meltdown, “Work took forever. Some days it feels like Satan, himself, is my boss.”

You feel his kisses stop so he can look at you.

Focus on you.

Listen to you.

Your voice comes out as a whisper, “I just hated today.”

Eddie immediately sympathizes with you. He’s had his days, though becoming his own boss has definitely cut down on them. But, he still understands the stress you’ve had and only wants to make you feel better.

His hand moves up to your back, rubbing soothing circles on it. “How can I help?”

Tears spring to the back of your eyes. How can I help? A simple question, yet one that no one bothered to ask today. Most days you don’t need the help. But some days, days like today, it would have been great to have someone show the kindness you needed right now.

Eddie takes the pad of his thumbs and wipes under your eyes. The stress from today pulling down on your shoulders.

You don’t need help anymore. The work day is done. It’s over with. You just need to be engulfed in the person that has always helped you in more ways than one.

Turning to Eddie, you take him in. The white tank top clings to his skin, dirt and motor oil stain it, but he’s never looked better. His sun kissed shoulders are kissed by the recent tattoos lining them. His curly hair is pulled back in a low bun, his go to when he’s working.

There’s something about the way he effortlessly looks so fuckable in his mechanic clothes that makes you needy for him.

Eddie watches your eyes trail over him. The way your tongue peaks out before your teeth suck in your bottom lip gives him confirmation of why you’re here. He knows what you want. But, he needs you to say it.

You meet his coffee colored eyes. “I need you to fuck me.”

Eddie takes your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger. He kisses you until you pull away needing air. Your hands tug at the bottom of your shirt, freeing it off your chest before throwing it behind you. It lands on top of the Mustang, neither one of you noticing as Eddie’s hands make work on your bra.

Your bra is tossed onto the ground and Eddie immediately takes your breasts into his hands. He leans down and places open mouth kisses along your skin, licking and sucking every inch of your chest.

His mouth meets your nipple as your hands grip his hair. You feel him groan as you tug on his head, his other hand meeting your other breast. As his tongue circles around your nipple, he lays you back onto the couch.

“Eddie,” his name comes out in a breathless moan as you take in the feeling of his tongue working on you.

He continues his markings on you, working his way down until he stops at the top of your pants. Never letting his mouth leave your body, his mouth lays open mouth kisses to your hips as his hands make work on your pants.

His fingers unbutton them and slide the zipper down before he’s pulling back from you. You lift up your hips as his hands tug down your pants, taking your panties with them.

They’re thrown to the ground and he’s back over you in seconds. The rush of having each other after a long day catches up quickly. He pulls his pants down far enough to grab and pull himself from his boxers.

Your hand immediately goes to your mound, running a finger up and down. Eddie curses out loud, the sight of you naked on the couch in his shop was a wet dream come to life.

He strokes himself as you run your fingers up your wet slit before dipping one in and sliding it up to your clit.

“Baby,” he keeps his eyes on your heat as you rub yourself ready for him.

He hovers over you, keeping one hand beside your head, the other on his length.

“You’re a fucking dream,” his voice filled with lust his eyes full of need.

You grab the back of his neck pulling him to your mouth once more. He holds himself in his hand, guiding the tip of his cock along your wet slit. When he pushes in your mouth falls open, feeling him stretch you out.

“That’s it, baby,” his forehead stays pressed against yours as he bottoms out. Your moans bring a smile to his face as he moves his hips making you feel every inch of him. “That’s my fucking girl.”

The black curls from his pelvis brush against your clit and you swear nothing feels better than being filled up by him. You could have a hundred more bad days if it meant ending them like this.

“Eddie,” you whimper out, wrapping your fingers into his hair. He nods his head against yours leaning down to capture your lips.

He pulls himself in and out of your wet cunt enjoying the sensation of you taking him deeper. “You feel so fucking good.” And he means it. Nothing beats having his cock buried in you after a long day of working nonstop. Needing you even more, his hands fall to your waist. They grip your hips in a tight embrace as he pulls you up with him.

“Come sit on my cock, baby,” he whispers against your lips. You feel him pull out of you, only to sit back and lean against the back of the couch. He grabs your thigh and helps you climb into his lap.

You steady yourself with one hand on his shoulder, the other gripping his aching cock in your hand. His hands never leave your thighs, holding them in a tight hold you’re sure will have his fingertips indented by morning time.

He watches as you take his cock and run it up to your clit. You moan feeling the tip against you before guiding it down your pussy and sinking down on it.

Eddie lets out a loud groan seeing your cunt swallow his cock. He sees the ways your eyes flutter and how your breathing staggers. The way you completely give yourself to him sends a shock wave through his cock.

Just him looking at you with that fucked out look on your face is enough to make him cum. You settle your hands on his shoulders before you lean in and kiss him, grinding your hips taking him further.

The way your eyes shut and your breathing staggers brings a grin to his face. He knows you’re getting there.

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good for me.” Eddie groans feeling you squeeze around him. You pick up your pace chasing for release.

His hand leaves your thigh to slip in between your legs. You rest your hands on his shoulder and begin to lift your hips up and down his length.

“You look so fucking good taking me like this,” Eddie praises taking his thumb and rubbing it against your clit. The movement causes your eyes to open. You look down and watch as you fuck yourself on his cock, his hand working on your clit.

Eddie grounds his feet into the ground and sinks his back against the couch. Lifting his hips, he meets yours every time until you’re eventually leaning forward.

Your forehead presses against his as he fucks up into you taking over. His hand never leaves your clit taking all the work from you.

“That’s it, baby. Keep fucking yourself just like that.”

It’s not long before the euphoric feeling you’ve been aching for all day is creeping in. Eddie feels your nails dig into his skin and hisses. The pain mixed with the pleasure of fucking you feels so good.

Your whimpers increase and you’re letting him know you’re about to cum.

Eddie nods against you, telling you to cum. He wants to hear those sweet moans as you let go. He needs to feel your pussy clench around him and milk his cock clean.

Your legs tremble and you’re coming undone, head falling to his shoulder. He groans feeling your pussy tighten around him and he’s grabbing your hips keeping you steady as he fucks you through your orgasm.

He feels your breath against his neck and grips your hips tighter. Your sensitive cunt takes him over and over until he’s spilling inside of you, the feeling nearly sending you over the edge again.

Neither of you move for minutes, basking in the afterglow of your post orgasm haze. You practice regaining your breath, staying put in his neck. His hands move from your waist to your back as he traces small circles on it. Both of you taking each other in.

“You still with me, doll?”

Eddie feels you smile at the pet name. You lift your head and he looks down at you. Eyes tired but the smile he’s been searching for has finally made an appearance.

“Hi,” your voice is soft.

Eddie kisses your forehead. “Hi, baby.” You press your lips against his before pulling back. You look down at your still connected bodies before bringing your hands back up to his shoulders. He helps you steady as you lift off of him, the mess between you two present.

With weak legs you go to the cabinet off to the side and open the drawer where the clean rags are hidden. You pick up your shirt that was thrown on the car, hearing Eddie chuckle.

You clean yourself up, grabbing an extra clean one and make your way towards Eddie.

He gratefully accepts the rag and wipes himself clean as you make work to dress yourself. By the time you’ve slipped your clothes back on, Eddie’s already pulled his pants over his hips.

“Let’s go home?” You suggest looking down at him. It’s late and you’re both done for the day. You pick up a hand and link your fingers through his. He lets out a loud groan as helping him off the couch making you laugh at his dramatics.

His arms find their place around your shoulders, bringing you in to kiss the top of your head.

“Let's go home, doll.”

————

A/N: is tumblr giving anyone else a hard time when it comes to saving drafts? :( I’ve been having the hardest time uploading and posting hopefully this time my paragraphs don’t get double posted and deleted :(

thank you @littlesubbyflower for going in and editing when my mushy brain refused to

thank you to my wonderful beta readers @loveshotzz @strangermarvelss @thefreakofhawkins86

[alpaca-clouds]

Cars vs Accessible Worlds

Alright, let me talk about one thing in terms of accessibility in science fiction settings - and Solarpunk specifically - that also has more than one side to it: Cars and accessibility. Because it is more complicated than you'd thing.

See: The fact that our world is so car centric really, really hinders accessibility. Wide streets are a hindrance for even normal pedastrians, cyclists and so on. If I want to get from A to B, and the route crosses a street, and there is only a traffic light every like 500 meters, it means tat I usually need either to risk my life or take the long way around to get there. And that is a fucking bother even when you are healthy and can easily take that long way around. And the more car centric a society is, the worse the issue becomes. Here in Germany it is a lot easier still to cross a street than in many places in the US.

And of course this gets a lot worse if you are disabled. Be it that you just cannot walk that far. Or if you are blind and cannot even see in what direction you could go for the next traffic light. Or if you are hard of hearing or deaf, you might be more in danger of being surprised by a car. (And that is without going into how electric cars being so fucking quiet makes stuff even more dangerous.) And, you know, neurodivergent people might also just struggle with the fucking noise that is created by roads and is often inescapable in big cities.

And of course even outside of the environmental issues, the constant presence of cars is also a health risk. Not just because of the risk of accidents, but also due to the pollution and how it interacts. Even if we all were driving electric cars, there would still be all those microplastics created by tires and streets and stuff.

So, really. We do need to move away from car centric infrastructure to make our lives healthier and to make the world more accessible for disabled people too.

BUT...

But there is the issue that some disabled people still might be in need to use some sort of personal transportation device that can cover both short and large distances, because for one reason or another public transport just does not work and cannot work for them.

For example someone with severe anxiety issues, or someone who will be easily suffering from sensory overwhelm. There might be other issues, too. Just some folks will always need something like cars.

And of course there is also the fact that stuff like emergency services will still need streets accessible to cars. Because the emergency services will just not get around using something like cars to get to all the places they might be needed.

And this... makes things complicated. Because infrastructure should not be car centric, no. But it needs to be accessible by cars - and be it just for emergency services.

This is just something that I would love to see more talked about especially within the Solarpunk sphere.

[bettyfrommars]

invisibleMan!eddie x fem!reader

I had a smut request from the dear @strangerfreak for invisible!eddie and reader having sex in front of a mirror as a blurb, but it's 1.8k, so, close enough. I mean, why not add Invisible Man Eddie to our list of fuckable Universal Monsters.

18+ONLY, smut, boyfriend!eddie, mechanic!eddie, use of baby as a pet name, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, sex in front of a mirror, mention of using an experimental drug. No use of y/n or she/her.

author's note: so much love to those who sent smut requests in already, and I'm always happy to receive them. The two in this lil fic are very much in love and they very quickly turned into favorites of mine. This was not proofread, be gentle.

-----

“How long will it last?” You asked, staring into the space that you guessed was your boyfriend, but all you could see was the open door to the hallway.

When he moved, you caught glimpses of what looked like water ripples in the air, but otherwise, your eyes danced over the space, unsure of where to land.

Eddie lifted his hand up in front of his face, kind of loving the way he couldn’t see himself—it was cool as hell.  

“Only 24 hours, according to them,” he sat down on the bed next to you, and the only reason you knew that was because the mattress sank down and you could see the indentation where his butt was.  “I hope it wears off by Monday, because I don’t know if the customers at work will take to it.”

The thought made you giggle.  “Imagine wrenches and tire irons floating through the bay, seemingly unattended…”

“...an oil filter changing itself,” Eddie continued, finishing your sentence.  Now, you were both laughing, and Eddie gave a little snort.  You could feel him lean against you, could feel his calloused hand wrap around the back of your neck, and then you melted a little when he kissed the shell of your ear.

Money had been tight lately, and Eddie took the initiative to become a human guinea pig for a research facility specializing in supernatural powers.  The pay was phenomenal, but there were obviously some major risks.  He hadn’t told you he was going there after work, so you lost your mind a bit when you saw his van rolling up the road with no one behind the wheel.  

“Oh wait, baby, watch this,” you felt him get up off the bed, and then you followed the imprints of his feet that appeared in the carpet to where his service coat hung on the door.  A pack of smokes appeared in the air, and you watched in awe as a lighter lit a cigarette. It was as if you were in the presence of some animated Disney film.

Eddie inhaled and the tip glowed; you could see the smoke enter his lungs, and then puff out his nostrils when he gave another snort.  “This is wild,” he returned to his seat next to you on the bed. You could tell he was giddy with that schoolboy enthusiasm.  “I gotta get over to Steve’s later tonight and mess with him somehow.”

“I think this is the first time I’m actually grateful for your nicotine addiction,” you cupped your hand where you knew his jaw was to feel his warm flesh that your eyes kept telling you was not there.  “I can tell where your face is now.”

The cigarette bounced in the air. “Do you wanna get high and have sex with your invisible boyfriend?”

—-----

It was your idea to do it in front of the huge closet mirror, and Eddie loved you even more in that moment for suggesting it.  

It was dark, and you lit a few candles while Eddie rolled the two of you a fresh joint.  You could tell he was licking the side of it without seeing his tongue; you knew his rituals by heart.  

He took a big drag, and once you brought it to your lips, you watched his vest and shirt fly onto the bed, and then you felt two warm, rough hands come up your sides to ease your shirt off.  With your back against the bed, your legs were wide in front of the mirror, and Eddie kissed your stomach, up your chest, and along your neck, making a needy mew erupt from your throat, urging him on.  

“Yeah?” He whispered in your ear as he unhooked your bra, allowing his thumbs to graze the tender nubs of your nipples.  “Is it better when you can’t see me?”

“I hate it,” you found his mouth and kissed him deep. Your pussy thumped with an aching need as he rubbed you there over your jeans. “I miss my beautiful boy.”

“Here, gimme this,” he took the joint from you and smiled against your mouth.  “Before you drop it and burn the place down.”

You palmed him over his jeans, mouth watering at how hard he was.  “You wanna watch your cum fill me up, don’t you?”

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, and then he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you close, kissing you so that your tongues wrestled together as if they were fucking.  

You watched invisible hands pull your jeans off, and then the rest of his clothes, including his boxers, clumped to the floor, heavy with wallet and chain.  You knew his cock was bobbing in the air somewhere near, but thankfully you didn’t have to wonder for too long because his mouth was on you again.

When his two fingers sank into your hole, you whimpered and clenched around him.

“Fuck, I love you,” he murmured against your throat, and then you felt his head turn to look at what you could see in the reflection.  Even though he was situated between you and the mirror, he could see you open for him, straining around the thickness of his digits.  He could see your arousal trickling down, soaking wet to the carpet.  

You found his curved length and twisted your hand around the head.  “Let me taste your invisible cock,” you said with a hungry purr.  You were both paying attention to the mirror show as he sank a third finger in, and Eddie bucked his hips against you at the sight.

“Wait, wait,” he gasped. “Let me try something.”

Your face was in his hair and you ran a few scratches down his back, imagining him there as clear as day.

He scissored his fingers inside you to watch it spread. “God, you’re so beautiful, I can’t believe you’re mine.”

You grabbed his face for another long, hard kiss while his fingers fucked into you.  Eddie dove his cock into your grip over and over and you spit on the C-shape your hand was making to give it more slip.  

He backed off and put his forehead to yours, breathing heavy, bringing his soaked fingers out to draw lazy circles on your clit.  “I’m gonna cum like this if we’re not careful.”

“Mmmmh,” you hummed, stroking your thumb over his swollen, leaking tip.  “I think it’s time we see what this monster can do in real time.”

He couldn’t get into position fast enough.  Since you were on the floor, he yanked two pillows down off the bed to put behind your head and at your lower back.  He held your legs up by your knees, but then checked the angle in the mirror and put your leg down, asking you to move your hips slightly.

“Maybe I should be invisible next time,” you joked.

“Please baby, don’t say that,” he brushed his lips over your knee.  “I always want to be able to see you.”

From where he was, he didn’t have to turn his head too far to get a glimpse of the action, and you could see everything.  In the reflection, you watched the way he wet the head of his cock in your folds, spreading them open, making your glistening lips flutter.

If not for his hissed curses and sounds of pleasure, you would’ve thought you were having a wet dream or being made love to by a ghost.  

“So this is what it would be like to have sex with a ghost,” you mused aloud, feeling the weed hit you as Eddie sank deeper.

He grunted.  “It’s good practice, in case I die first, I’m gonna haunt the fuck out of you.”

“Impale me with that ghost cock, baby,” you wiggled your tongue at him.

And, so he did.

He buried himself to the base with a groan, followed by your whimpers that coaxed him to swivel his hips.

“Holy shit,” Eddie turned his head and marveled at the way your hole expanded and he could see inside of you.  The mix of your arousals began to foam a bit from the friction and Eddie’s hips moved faster.

You swiped your fingers over your clit, imagining Eddie’s hair hanging down his shoulders and his guitar pick necklace hitting against his chest with every thrust.  

He eased back with a huff, pacing himself.  "I’m so close,” you could hear him suck in his bottom lip.  

“Don’t stop,” you hushed with a hitch in your breath and Eddie noticed you working your clit in a certain way—-you were close too.

“Oh, shit, okay,” he continued, glancing in the mirror only once more while he set a steady pace.  

Your walls clenched and throbbed on him like a fist, making him mumble incoherently.

“I’m gonna cum so hard baby fuck—are  you watching?” his thrusts stuttered and your eyes were glued to the mirror as you witnessed his seed coat your walls and drip down your ass as he pumped it in.

“Eddie!” The sight of it sent you into orbit and your walls milked him aggressively as the orgasm rolled through you like velvet firecrackers. 

Eddie liked to watch your face when you came, but as the pleasure subsided, he turned to see what you could see.

“Fuckkk, that’s insane,” he mumbled, working his length in and out so he could watch the cum spill out and then get stuffed back in. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

When he was done watching the show, he dropped his head to your shoulder and let himself slip out of your warm heaven.  You found his hair and brushed your fingers through it, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer until your bodies met and he let you have his weight.  

“Baby, look,” you nudged him to notice the reflection again, and when he did, he saw you on the ground with your arms curled around nothing, like you were trying to hug the air.  “Now you can go down on me in a public place and no one would know.”

He lifted his head up, and you tried to decide where his eyes were.  “Can we try that tomorrow before this wears off?” He asked.

You leaned forward to kiss his mouth, but ended up kissing his nose.  “Meet you at a table in front of the Sbarro in the food court tomorrow at 11. I’ll be sure to wear a skirt.”

“Damn, that reminds me,” he got to his feet abruptly and you felt drips of his release land on your stomach. “I need to go over and show this to Steve.  So much to do before I lose my superpower.”

“I’ll drive, how about that?”

“Deal.”