#bad deck anyways half of it was bent

[entropicbias]

tomorrow, i will buy myself a new deck of cards. very unfortunate how kids keep showing up to my house and absolutely slaughtering my cards. one of those rascals tore an even bigger hole in my link doll's ass. what has this world come to! teach your children manners! good grief.

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Harriet waits for Anthony and Ginny to come and endures conversations with her parents. The horror.

Harriet paces the board of her father’s ship – she got there early in case Anthony comes early and drags Ginny on-time too, for once.

Back and forth, back and forth, her footsteps fall heavy on the wood. She growls at some sailor that stands too close in her way. As if these old port rats didn’t know better. When she looks out, the street is still empty.

Anxious what-ifs swirl in her mind, mixing up with half-formed revenge plans until she can’t distinguish one from the other. She shakes her head and turns around. The thoughts refuse to leave her alone.

„Harriet, honey, you’ll walk a hole in the board if you don’t stop,“ her mother says, coming to the railing.

Well, too bad, if Harriet wishes to walk a hole in the board of Jolly Roger, she will bloody well do so.

Besides: „Weren’t you supposed to help Da getting ready?“ she asks her mother. She’s pretty sure she was, yes. Help him shave, razor to his neck, one little slip and Captain James Hook would be done for.

„I was,“ her mother scoffs in distaste, „But he got this bothersome mechanical razor-machine from the barges and he’s hell-bent on trying it.“

„…You can ask the de Vils to mess it up for you?“ offers Harriet. Ivy at least would help just for the hell of it. 

„I think I’ll just throw it at a wall first. You know, accidentally,“ the siren appears in deep thought; Harriet glances out into the port. Still no sign of them. „Or maybe it’ll fall into the sea. The deck was swinging oh so much on the waves–“

Harriet can see the plan swirling in her mother’s eyes and would be quite happy to leave her to it: It’d be an absolutely appropriate time to change her mind yet and just go get them, right? And Ginny did say she wanted to be kidnapped.

„But Harriet,“ her mother’s voice shakes her out of her thoughts: „This boy of yours, are you sure you want to keep him?“

Of course that’s what she’d ask – and not that Harriet hadn’t thought about it. Anthony would look just so pretty drowning; Ginny would, too. But:

„Yes, mother,“ she glares, „I’m keeping him. I’m keeping both of them.“

Another face of distaste. But look, Harriet just doesn’t think her parents get any right to judge her life choices. Just look at them. And her existence is their fault anyway.

„Well if you’re sure…“ her mother draws out, „And look, your father is here.“

She turns around and nods in greeting; he does the same before he basically forgets she’s near, eyes only for his wife.

He runs his fingers over his jaw and cheeks, and asks: „So, what do you think, my love?“ And gods, Harriet really tries not to listen. She pointedly turns away from them, definitely not just to check if Anthony and Ginny arrived yet.

But no, the port is still fucking empty.

„I better go put your wonder machine in the right place, James…“

Oh, so her mother is speedrunning her get rid of mechanical razor plan. Good for her.

„But I already put it away, love.“

She just crooks her eyebrow at him, and he lets her do as she wishes. Which reminds Harriet, she should double check which dishes and drinks are poisoned tonight. As soon as her mother gets back, of course.

„Harriet.“

Well, now he pays attention to her.

„Whom did you invite again?“

„Ginny – you met her already – and Anthony.“

She tenses when he raises his hook, but it’s only to play with it. She glares at the weapon anyway.

„Anthony Tremaine?“

She narrows her eyes and glares at her father too; her fingers touch the knife by her hip for just a second.

„Yes, him,“ she answers.

Captain James Hook lets out a big dramatic sigh, and says: „But Harriet… He’s french.“

From the other side of the ship sounds a splash of the razor machine her mother just very accidentally dumped into the sea.

„I know.“

„Then why would you date him?“

Harriet gasps in offence: „I’m not dating him! I’m not!“ She feels blood riding to her cheeks: Anger over that audacious accusation, what else?

She turns away from her father, who is muttering something that are most probably death threats towards the French, and gasps again: They’re here.

She walks over the boarding bridge and the street as fast as she can without breaking into an undignified run.

„You came,“ she states instead of greeting.

„That we did, Captain,“ answers Anthony. She looks him over, he put on his best suit and jewellery, and he looks good in it, nevermind that he actually has some weapons on him, too. Ginny is draped on his arm. „Told you we would.“

„Actually,“ says Ginny, „I wanted to stay at home so you’d have to go get me, but he didn’t let me.“ She drives her elbow into his ribs and Harriet cackles.

„We know, Sunflower,“ he sighs in exasperation, rubbing the spot, „We all know there is something wrong with you.But it’d be rude.“

„I don’t think you can even imagine wrong, Tremaine,“ grumbles Ginny, „Just wait tonight.“

At that, Harriet just cackles. Ignoring Anthony’s faux-hurt glare, she turns around and motions towards the ship: „Come aboard,“ she says to them, „Oh, and don’t drink the red wine. That’s usually poisoned.“

„Excuse me, what?!“

But she’s already marching ahead, biting her cheeks just so she wouldn’t smile; she pauses in front of the bridge, letting them pass. Anthony pushes Ginny in front of himself and hovers his hands over her elbow and the small of her back, and Harriet most definitely isn’t staring at all.

She bites her lip and shakes her head and boards too: She needs to show them to the dining cabin. Preferably before her parents can start talking too much.

She gets to them just as Anthony started his greetings.

„Yeah, yeah, that’s all great,“ she interrupts, „Let’s keep the pleasantries for the dinner table.“ Where there will be more people and less chances to carry out a coherent conversation. „Let me take you to the dining cabin,“ she says, as if she was giving them a choice.

As she passes her parents, she hears: 

„You can always change your mind…“ 

And

„You can do better than the French, Ettie.“

She pretends she didn’t hear either of these things and drags quietly giggling Ginny away by the wrist.

Dinner at the Hooks

Part one of ??; cca 1k words.

Mostly just disaster threesome and Huma flirting, ngl. They didn’t even get to the Jolly Roger yet.

For future reference: Hook kids’ mother is a siren and she’s very much trying to kill James Hook. Everyone but James Hook knows this. Hooks might or might not have adopted Claudine Frollo, I’ve got yet to decide. Also, Uma has a godly father because if Mal can, so can Uma. (It’s not Hades.)

I hope you enjoy!

Harriet slams open the door to the Tremaine salon: Seems like she’s in luck today. Anthony’s in the corner, combing through Ginny’s wet hair. How convenient.

She lets her eyes linger on them for just a heartbeat before glaring around the salon and barking a sharp „Out!“

Anthony glares at her, all disapproving, as if to say, „Don’t kick the customers out of my salon, Harriet.“

Well, too bad. She doesn’t care for his customers at all, and she’s prepared to show him so – the mirror on the wall looks a little too uncracked for her taste.

She narrows her eyes at him. Little effect, really, except for Ginny’s intrigued expression and her hand reaching out to his, as if to stop him from arguing, at which he huffs and turns up his eyes. Excellent, fucking finally.

„I said, out,“ Harriet snarls at the customers that unwisely didn’t take their leave yet and at the Tremaines she doesn’t care about.

Just as the doors click, she stalks closer to Anthony and Ginny, and slams her hand into the chair behind her shoulder; Ginny straightens just a little bit.

„My parents are organising a dinner, a family get together,“ she says, „You’re both invited.“

She looks Anthony into the eyes – he’s crossed his arms over his chest and is still glaring, that bastard, – and then tilts up Ginny’s face with her pointer finger to get her attention more surely.

„Meet me by the Jolly Roger at eight.“

That should about do it.

„Did you really just kick out everyone out of the salon just to ask us out?“ Anthony asks with a hint of disbelief. She scoffs at him: The fact that she did exactly that doesn’t mean that she’ll admit to it, obviously.

„I’m trying to be nice here,“ she says instead, „Would you prefer it if I kidnapped you?“

„I would,“ pipes up Ginny.

„We know, Sunflower,“ sighs Anthony as he slides his hand onto her shoulder and curls his fingers in just slightly. Harriet smirks at the sight a bit.

„Come,“ she says, „At eight to the Jolly Roger, my whole family will be there.“ She herself isn’t sure if that’s a threat or not. „I’ll be waiting for you.“

She decides it probably is a threat.

She shows off her teeth in a smile before leaning down and kissing Ginny – she lets the kiss linger for once as she drags her fingertips over her jaw. Eventually, she tilts Ginny’s head back again and straightens up to face Anthony.

She steps closer and kisses him too, sliding her hand over the back of his neck. „Don’t you dare stand me up, Tremaine,“ she breathes into his lips.

„How could I, Captain?“ he asks, as he pulls back „With such convincing arguments that you give.“

She cackles, and as she walks away, she shows him the middle finger.

She hopes they come.

………

„Harry,“ Uma opens the door to his rarely-used cabin and leans on the frame. She smirks as he turns to her, make-up half-done and a gold chain dangling down his chest. „The dinner at your parents’ starts soon.“

In about quarter an hour, really, but the Hooks consider time a suggestion at best and showing up late is more fashionable, anyway.

„Thank you, love,“ he tells her, twirling the eyeliner pen in between his fingers, „Give me few moments to finish getting ready?“

The best part is, she could say no and he’d drop everything and go as he is now, just because she said it. She smirks at the thought. But:

„Of course,“ she says instead, „We want you to look your best, don’t we?“ (And if by „we“ she means mostly herself, well, who can blame her? It’s only her right.)

„Of course, Uma,“ he smirks too and saunters closer, „Thank you.“ With that, he draws her closer by the waist and kisses her lips. She sinks into the kiss for just a moment before lightly pushing him off her.

„Now, don’t get handsy, Hook.“

„My apologies, my Captain,“ he puts his hands up in mock surrender, „But I needed some of your lipstick, you see, to finish off the look.“ His eyes shine as he winks at her.

„You could’ve just asked to borrow it.“

„Mmm, but it’s more fun this way, Captain, don’t you think?“

Instead of an answer, she steps closer to him again, and, grabbing him by his shirt, brings him in for another kiss. There’s his answer.

„Good Gods, they’re at it again!“ sounds through the ship and Uma suddenly remembers she didn’t close the door. Well, too late now.

„There’s children around!“ protests Bonny from down the hall with exasperated scandalisation.

„There are none!“

„There are none yet, Captain,“ sing-songs Bonny, „Now, if you two keep at it…,“

„Bonny!“ Uma’s time to be scandalised – this is what her own medic is doing! The audacity! And meanwhile, Harry just laughs, pulling her closer to him yet.

„This ship needs thicker fucking walls,“ she mutters only for him to hear.

He laughs again: „I think our crew would pay a decent treasure for thicker walls, love.“

Too bad they live on a cast-off island, isn’t it? She pouts and crosses her arms and isn‘t all that much surprised when Harry kisses her hair and leads her to his shelf where some jewellery and trinkets lay carelessly scattered. Most of these pieces she has never seen, which means he just got it (stole it) recently – he tends to just give the jewels to her and borrow it later when he’s in the mood for anything other than his usual assembly of rings and earrings.

And really: „Paid a little visit to the Westergaards this morning,“ he says, „Most of their stuff was gaudy, but these looked passable. Anything caught your fancy, darling?“

„Hmm, I don’t know yet,“ she says, picking up a necklace and letting it fall back down in between her fingers, „I think I need to look at these first. Examine it. Go finish getting ready in the meantime.“

„As you command.“

In the end, Uma picks a new ring, a bracelet and a decorative comb that Harry weaves into her hair immediately; sure, they might have left five minutes after the dinner was supposed to start, but their entrance is going to be showstopping.

[judeswhore]

movie night with mase but it’s early on in the relationship and your first time staying over

in which your first night at mason’s involves a marvel marathon, an argument over the best avenger and a pouty boyfriend

i actually watched captain america writing this

clint is boring - mason mount

“I feel like we just aren’t going to get any sleep tonight.” You mumbled, settling yourself down against Mason’s side on his sofa, your body relaxing immediately into the soft cushions and Mason’s heat. You tucked your legs up beneath you, Mason’s spread out across the L shaped section and caught his little grin and the raise of his eyebrows. “Not because of that, perv, once I start a Marvel movie I have to make it through all of them.”

Mason gave a little hum, remote balanced in the palm of his hand, pointed directly at the screen displaying a range of Marvel films. When he’d suggested you spend the night, your first night over at his house, you hadn’t expected him to challenge you to a Marvel movie marathon and you were surprised when you arrived after work to see his living room decked out in pillows and blankets. He’d bought snacks and ordered pizza and you genuinely didn’t think it could have been a better night.

“I have the weekend free, I wouldn’t say no to staying locked up in here with you the whole time to finish them all.” You tilted your head to properly catch his gaze, eyes taking in the facial hair that had slowly started to drive you crazy.

“Do you not have plans, Mount?”

“Even if I did I think a Marvel marathon with you would make me cancel in a heartbeat.” Your cheeks turned a little pink, still shy when it came to having Mason’s full attention or have him compliment you in anyway and you ducked your head back to stare at the TV.

“Flirt.” You mumbled into the material of his hoodie, his soft laugh fluttering your hair as he bent to kiss the top of your head.

“Okay, how are we doing this?” He shuffled slightly, arm curling around your waist, hand against the top of your thigh and gave your skin a soft pat. You furrowed your brows at his question, confused over what he was asking as you reached over him for a packet of strawberry pencils.

“What do you mean?”

“We watching by series or in order?”

“Order obviously. Start with the first Captain America.” Mason’s gaze flickered between you and the TV screen while he tried to pull the movie up, attention half focused on the way you’d moved closer to him as you opened the packet of sweets. “Want one?” You held one up and Mason just opened his mouth, grinning when you rolled your eyes and pushed it passed his lips. “I’m not feeding you, idiot.”

“Mean,” He clicked play on the movie and threw the remote to the bottom of the sofa, using his now free hand to hold the pencil in his mouth. “Need a blanket?”

“No, you’re warm enough.” You muttered, settling your head back against his shoulder, gaze trained on the beginning scene of Captain America The First Avenger. You could feel Mason’s thumb brushing over your hip, the steady rise and fall of his chest the most comforting thing you’ve felt in a while.

“Best Avenger, go.” He spoke directly into your ear, his breath tickling your skin and you had to snuggle in closer to him, your hand sliding into the front pocket of his hoodie.

“Black Widow.”

“Seriously?”

“You disagree because she’s a woman?”

“No, I disagree because Thor is right there.” He argued, reaching for another strawberry pencil, playfully whacking the end of your nose with it.

“Thor’s my second but Nat, she’s incredible. Plus I think her new movie made me love her even more. Her and Yelena in the helicopter is an unmatched scene.” Your first date with Mason bad actually been to go see Black Widow on opening night and both of you had gotten over your nerves by gushing over how much you loved the franchise. You’d never been with a guy who liked the movies as much as you and it was refreshing to actually be able to talk to someone you were interested in about one of your favourite things.

“Come on, Thor is bad ass. Hello, hammer wielding, Black Widow doesn’t have a hammer.” You pulled a face at him despite the fact he couldn’t see and have a slight shake of your head.

“She doesn’t need one, her skills alone are enough. She could come here and kill you with her bare hands right now. And anyway, Captain America ended up wielding the hammer so really are Thor and the hammer that good?” Mason gave a little groan and he playfully poked his fingers into your side until you squirmed against him, giggling softly into his hoodie.

“He did it because he was worthy.”

“Exactly, so Thor can’t be that special if someone else is worthy of his hammer.”

“I can’t believe this is your argument.” He muttered into the top of your head, your hair muffling just complaints.

“It’s a valid point, just admit Nat is the more superior Avenger and we can move on.” You patted his stomach, shuffling a little bit closer to him, the body heat he’d been providing slowly disappearing and as if sensing it Mason pulled one of his blankets from the back of the sofa and threw it over the two of you before answering.

“Never, I’m defending my man to the grave.” You snorted a laugh at this that made Mason laugh in return, a short surprised giggle tickling your head. “I’m not sure we can be together anymore if you hate Thor.”

“I don’t hate Thor, he’s my second favourite, just Nat comes out first, gotta do it for the girlies.” You knew Mason was rolling his eyes, it was a comment that usually warranted an eye roll from him but he just ended up shrugging his shoulders.

“Can we at least agree that Hawkeye is the worst?”

“Yes! See Clint’s boring and totally should have died instead of Nat. Endgame did her dirty, she had all their backs and they’d be fucked without her but we didn’t even get to see her funeral? Bullshit.” You furrowed your brows, accepting the Oreo cookie Mason held in front of you.

“Passionate about that aren’t we?” His tone was teasing and it earned him a soft pinch to his side.

“Yes, I thought it was shit. I hope she haunted them for it.” Bucky Barnes had appeared on the screen and you gave Mason a little jab in the thigh. “Look at him.” You heard his half grumble as he attempted to swallow the biscuit in his mouth.

“Oh God, you fancy him don’t you?”

“No offence, but if Bucky came to me right now I’d have to leave you. He’s just so… Hot.” Your tone was almost dreamy and Mason pouted softly, nuzzling into your hair.

“He’d crush you with his robot arm.” You gave a shrug of your shoulders, bundling the blanket further up beneath your chin, a shiver racking through you when Mason’s fingers pushed slightly under your shirt, the pads of them grazing your bare side.

“I’d be completely okay with that.”

“I’d never crush you with my robot arm.” You giggled lightly, tilting your head and kissing his jaw to soothe the hint of jealousy in his voice.

“Don’t worry, Mase, I’d let you share my time. Sharing is caring, remember?” He scrunched his nose and shook his head.

“No thanks, I think I’d just rather have you all to myself, I’ll fight him for your affection if I have to.” He turned his head and pressed a delicate kiss to your lips, squeezing your hip softly. “I’ll challenge him to shoot outs.”

[heygutlcssa]

@grazziella​ (GRAZIELLA)

If he was fire then she was water and nothing felt as freeing and calming as being extinguished by her. He was enchanted ( imagine that, enchanted) by the way she’d kick his shoes with her own,  or how her lipstick would stain her teeth when she smiled as happily as she could, or how that smile would go all lopsided when she laughed.  She could light up a room with just the way she sighed.

So when she’s sat there looking like a wilted flower, his first reaction is to set whatever got her looking so right.

He’s used to the sagging foundation and moldy wallpaper of the west side. Everything was broken or near about. He’d been the one folks would call when something went wrong ( not that any one could afford anything other than him anyway). He’d started this underthe table Mr.-fix-it  back when he’d beat the shit out of the fella that lived below him. He could hear him screaming his head off as if he was in the same room. He’d fixed their electric and changed all the lightbulbs that had been shattered in the house when the fella’s wife didn’t report Riff to the cops for knocking on their apartment door and decking the guy right in the face upon the first chance to. this was after he’d lost his job on account of O’Conner’s being torn down. he had some steam to vent.

Next thing he knew there was a line of housewives with things that needed fixed at his apartment door .

Walking through Grazie’s place makes him think of Tony’s old home. He remembered how Tony’s ma really reamed into him the first time he tracked mud across her newly cleaned and waxed floors. Thought he’d be thrown back out on to the street for sure. Not that he could understand anything that woman said, but he remembered helping her clean it up and finding his shoes clean and polished in the morning. She was a good woman, that one.

Grazie’s place smelled like summer time.  Nice clean walls, good rugs. He wondered how much effort it took her to get the place looking so nice. He let her lead him through to the problem like a shepherd leads�� a lamb. he’d a hard time comprehending a place this nice. It was all rather intimidating.

She had decorative soap that looked like sea shells and flowers in her bathroom. He bent to smell it when she was wasn’t looking. it smelled like mangos. He’d half a thought to take the one shaped like a rose to show Tony later. Or perhaps just to keep it in his pocket for when he was missing her.

He’d been under her sink in that spiffed up bathroom for over an hour now, the problem a little more complex than he’d originally thought. Normally, in these cases, he’d make sure to get up often and make sure he’d walk around.  He’d always make sure he’d stretch out his back to keep it from hurting bad. He didn’t this time.

He’d had her shut off the water main to the apartment and had her to run and turn it back on when he needed it and off again thereafter. He got a towel to dry his face from her at some point and took a solid minute  looking at it with utter confusion. They made towels in colors?

           It smelled better than the soap.

                              He’s long past the point where he can feel his back tingling.                                                   it hurts.                                                                                            it hurts,                                                        it hurts real bad.

          He can’t even feel his feet.

At least the sink is fixed and done up the right way. He could at least do that for her.

He shimmied out from under cabinet which held the sink, feeling pins and needles in his toes with the movement. He’d hooked his arm up over the sink to help lift himself up, but came crashing back down at the sudden jolt of pain. There’s a grunt and few muffled swears (something in his head said no swearing in a fancy-ed-up place like this, despite feeling like the devil’d stepped on his back). He’d tried rolling to his side with much the same results.

“Graz!” he called squinting at the ceiling. Damn, he didn’t like this. not in the slightest. ” Grazie, come here a minute.”

There is a third try, which felt a hundred times worse than the first two attempts. When he sees her he gently pointed in her direction,” Don’t you laugh.” he huffed,” I can’t get up, help me, huh?”

[artemiseamoon]

After Dusk

Makena (Hunter/half vampire demon) x Brasa (crossroad demon/high level demon)

Words: 1,027

Warnings: dead vampire, demon portals, a bloody fight

About: When The Order calls a worldwide Hunters meeting, Makena know something dangerous is on the horizon. What she doesn’t know is her new assignment puts her face to face with an a demon she made a deal with over 30 years ago.

Top Gif: The search tool on here is a complete nightmare. I had this gif saved bc I can’t find it via gif search. Credit to the creature, here is the original post.

💫 Arte releases a draft into the void 💫 | A03

(new process note: since this was already whole, I’m posting it as such)

When The Order called a meeting, Makena knew a huge threat must be on the horizon. Unlike the old days, they barely called meetings. All hunters have regional managers; they handle correspondence, assignments, and anything else the surrounding hunters need to know.

No matter what a hunter was up to, if a meeting like this was called, they had to drop everything and show up in person. Hunters in training, those earning their stripes, would step in for the time being. Doing things like patrol, and security until every region's hunter returned.

Makena learned there’s been several troubling things happening and from the sounds of it, all hunters would be on deck, and given specific assignments by their RM’s. Among the troubling revelations, she learned portals have been opening up at an accelerated rate, the demon population has tripled and though maintaining the vampire population is part of their jobs, and less around isn’t really a bad thing, someone has been killing nests of vampires.

Since this is not the work of a hunter, The Order wants answers. Who is doing this and why? Are they a threat to the Order and its Hunters? What is the cause of the portals and increase of demon activity?

Perhaps the most disturbing of all is the sudden and drastic reduction of hunters. They’ve been disappearing, quietly, in the dead of the night with no trace. It’s very clear to Makena why a meeting of this scale was called.

Post meeting, she went back to her room and waited for her assignment.

…

Makena found him in the middle of the desert. It took a lot of blood, sweat and detective work to get here. All signs lead to him. To her disadvantage, he was expecting her; in spite of how quiet she’s been.

Now, they stand in the middle of the abandoned church, the wood hot from the desert sun, dust and sand mingle in the air with the taste of their blood and sweat. Of all the battles Makena has fought, this one has taken the most out of her.

Silence has fallen in the church, she laid back against one of the rickety pews, Brasa is on the other directly across from her. The both of them catching their breath, eyes still locked on each other.

Brasa holds his injured arm closer to his chest and lowers the sword in his other hand. When his left leg hits the broken pew to his side, it falls over completely, sending a loud crashing sound through the old building.

“How’s a cambion-vampire get into the Order anyway?” He asked after a big exhale. His dark eyes shoot down to his hand, it’s starting to heal.

“Things have changed since your day Brasa. The Order has diversified, “she pauses to spit out blood, then wipes her mouth, “we even have werewolves.”

Brasa raised a brow, “werewolves?”

“They figured - “she struggles to sit up and holds onto the back of the pew for support, “what better way to keep the order than have inside men. Human hunters have done fine for centuries, but the level of peace we had the last 10 years, that couldn’t be done with just humans.” She winches and grabs her side.

“Wouldn’t you be considered traitors?”

“Of course,” she lowers one of her legs and puts her foot on the ground. Now she's seated upright with one knee bent on the bench. “But I don't care about that.” she pauses and collects her thoughts,

“Who would have thought?” He smirks and rises from the pew. With quick reflexes, she has her sword in her hand again and is on her feet too. Brasa’s eyes move to the sword, then back to her face, “30 years.”

“Seems we both climbed our way up the ranks since then.” She comments, still keeping a sharp eye on him.

Brasa steps out of the pew and examines the large slash across his leather jacket.

She continues, “Crossroad demon to what? One of the Queen's most trusted soldiers. Must be. How are you doing it? The portals, the mass killings?”

The sinister smirk returns to his lips, “did you know it was me you were tracking?”

“No. Not until I saw you face to face.”

“Same,” he holds up his hand, it’s fully healed now, “I’m not who you’re looking for. I’m here working on the same thing you are.”

Makena stands opposite him, “Bullshit.”

“What's happening now, this isn’t us. The Queen isn’t happy.”

“What? Someone got hold of an ancient tablet somewhere. Causing so much chaos the Queen of Hell is annoyed?”

“If this was her, she’d own up to it, you know that “he starts to move with slow steps, so does she. Soon they're like a couple of crows in a slow-paced dance. “The advantage of your little Order getting their shit together is how it’s benefited her. This, what’s going on now, doesn’t.”

Makena continues moving, they’re burning a circle into the dusty ground, “that doesn’t make sense.”

“This isn’t the first time someone got their hands on an ancient tablet. Won’t be the last.”

“If so, someone on your side fucked up.”

“We know that.”

“What's with the disappearing hunters? The dead vampires?” she asked.

“They don’t mean anything, it’s what’s inside that matters. I read the missing table once. In part.”

“Their blood?”

He nods.

She goes quiet and breaks eye contact, taking in all the information.

“You know what this means, Makena - instead of The Order sending you out to hunt, you should be kept away. You are the goldmine. A hunter and a Cambion made vampire - your clock is ticking. You’re working on borrowed time. They’re always made stupid decisions, and they’re making one now.”

She dismisses his comments. “If you’re not the one doing it, why did everything lead me to you?”

“Did you not hear me earlier? I am working the same case you are. You are following my steps; I’m following who’s ever the fuck we’re looking for. If you’re a dog with a scent, of course you’re following mine.”

She raised a brow and went still. So does he.

(That’s all I have, so it’s a one shot. If I do expand, subscribing on A03 is the best way to get updated)

Maurice Compte list

Masterlist

[getitinbusan]

Strawberry Lemonade

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+

Even if you could decide, why would you want to? Both men were perfect in extremely different ways yet, your longing for both of them was beginning to feel greedy.

Pairing: Reader x Tae x Jungkook

Words: 3850

Warnings: 18+ threesome, MF vaginal sex, MF anal sex, MF oral sex, unprotected sex, swearing.

You weren't technically staff, it was a loophole that benefited everyone. While the crew stayed in coach, you were up front with Jungkook as he helped stash your camera equipment into the first class overhead. In 7 hours you'd be in Bali for a week in paradise.

"Y/N's sitting with me, she already promised." Taehyung pulled your hand towards the middle aisle.

Pouting, Jungkook popped his air pods in and took his seat.

It was a competition, pure and simple. Like a new shiny toy Jungkook and Taehyung both wanted you. Everyone knew and the game of one upmanship was getting a little out of control. But somehow, caught in the middle wasn't such a bad place to be.

Dim and quiet most of the plane was already asleep. Taehyung snored softly as you wiggled out from underneath his heavy grasp. You didn't want to disturb him but the days makeup needed to come off before you settled in for the night.

Taken by surprise, Jungkook stood with a smile waiting outside when you opened the bathroom door.

"I think we need to talk about something." He guided you back into the tiny room.

"What's that Kookie?"

His lips parted before he quickly pressed them onto yours. His hands were still holding your face as he broke away.

"I see the way you look at me and I think you want me just as much as I want you."

You loved being playful with Jungkook, teasing him was definitely a turn on.

"I'm keeping my options open." You wanted to sound taunting, but your hand slowly dragging down his chest let him know he was going to get whatever he was after.

His mouth moved over your neck as his fingers worked their way under your light t-shirt. His thumbs caressing the soft flesh just above the elastic of your waistband sent a gush of excitement to your panties.

"I want you so badly."

Pulling your pants to the floor he lifted you onto the small counter.

His finger slid into you easily.

"Does Taehyung get you this wet?"

"He's never tried. Should I let him?"

"I'm not afraid of a little competition Y/N."

His track pants came down with a quick tug and his hard cock sprang out. Stepping back towards you for a heated kiss his erection pressed against your sopping center. His length was more than you'd expected and you couldn't stand the anticipation any longer.

"Do you know how hard it's been to work with you for weeks and not get to touch you?"

Grasping his cock he held it straight to line himself up with your entrance.

"Uh huh," he nodded. "I've had to keep requesting baggy clothes to hide my chronic hard on."

He pushed himself into you letting out a long slow moan as his head fell back. Leaning into the mirror you pulled him in closer wrapping your legs around his hips.

Knees bent, he adjusted his height to pump himself into you. It wasn't sweet or slow, it was a mile high, hard quickie that had been a long time in the making.

Helping you down he wrapped you in his arms and kissed you while smiling. "I promise when we have more room i'm going to lay you out across a bed and make you cum so hard that mines the only name you're going to remember"

"That's pretty cocky considering you just spent the last 5 minutes only satisfying yourself." You straightened your clothes, "But I guess I could give you another shot."

You left him where he stood, red faced and pants down in the washroom.

Taehyung stirred as you layed out your blankets.

"Bedtime?"

"Yeah, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

He hummed in pout, "Come back and cuddle with me."

He held up his blanket in invitation and you slid in beside him.

Settling in he was now wide awake and staring endearingly. "I really like you." He smiled brightly at his own admission.

You pushed his shaggy hair off his forehead. "I really like you too Tae."

Somewhere at 35,000 feet in dead of the night you found yourself tangled in lips and limbs with the soft boy.

Where Jungkook had left you wanting more Tae picked up the slack with long lingering kisses and slow moving hands.

His nimble fingers played at your entrance before he plunged one inside, "You're so wet"

Pulling it back out he raised it to his mouth and unknowingly sucked off the mixture of your excitement and Jungkook's cum.

"Taehyung, I want you."

"Yeah?" he ran his finger over your lip before he kissed you again, "flip over for me."

To anyone walking by it would look like you were spooning, slow movements and subdued noises would be the only tell. One hand expertly stroked your clit as the other held steady trapping the moans inside your mouth.

Jungkook sat the next row over listening intently to Taehyung's heavy breaths and the uncontainable whimpers of climax he'd drawn out of you. Mad at himself for his purely selfish attempt with you, he stuck his airpods in and drifted off.

With the group shots finished you'd called a break for everyone but Jungkook.

"You're up first for individuals handsome."

He smiled as the others turned to leave. "Where are we shooting?"

Slinging the camera bag over your shoulder you started to walk away. "Your room."

Once the door was pulled closed he swept you into his arms. "Is this my second chance?"

"We've got a job to do Jungkook, maybe if I get a good shot and we have some time I'll consider it."

He threw his hands up in defeat, "Let's get this picture out of the way then."

"Good, go get in your pool."

Taking your dress off you hoped the added incentive of your bikini would motivate him. Playful and sexy it was the quickest shoot you'd ever done.

"I think I got what I need." You pulled yourself out of the pool and set the camera on the concrete.

"I don't think you did. Not from me anyways."

Legs dangling in the water you kicked some towards him.

"Whose fault is that?"

He pulled his wet shirt over his head and tossed it on the deck.

"Mine, and I'm sorry. I just wanted you so badly."

His hands found their way to your hips and he tugged on your bottoms.

"A little help here?"

You couldn't help but laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck you lifted yourself up so he could slide them off you.

"Let me make it up to you?"

He kissed you, softer this time, more intently.

"How much time do I have?"

"About 20 minutes…"

He raised his brow accepting the challenge. "Then you should lay back."

Sinking to his shoulders in the water his face took residence between your thighs. "So beautiful," he said before sliding his tongue inside you.

It felt like heaven, you couldn't help but tug at his hair as his mouth strategically worked to get you off.

"Are you done yet?" The unfazed voice came from the doorway.

Jungkook's hands held your thighs firmly open when he felt you trying to instinctively clamp them shut.

His eyes flicked up at Taehyung.

"Almost, do you want to stick around and see what it looks like when she cums?"

What was even happening right now? reaching for your dress you wiggled from Jungkook's hands and covered yourself.

Jungkook's tongue now finding itself restless and aggravated poked angrily into his cheek.

He scoffed, "Thanks, I've already seen it. It doesn't look like you're going to get her there anyway."

Taehyung turned, ignoring him completely unfazed. "I wanted to see if I could take you to dinner after you're done working."

Jungkook was visibly angry, "Maybe you should stop monopolizing her and let her spend some time with me without interrupting"

"You two are acting like children, let me know when you're done." Getting up and grabbing your things you left.

Laying out in the sun as they swam nearby, they had unknowingly made a decision for you.

The waitress walked towards you with three frosty glasses on her tray. One was Red, one was Yellow and one was Pink.

“The gentlemen argued about which you’d like more, Strawberry or Lemonade.” She smiled, “they ended up compromising and ordering you a half and half.”

The condensation pooled onto the table as she set them down. Looking in their direction she raised her eyebrow at you knowingly, “Why choose one when you can have both, am I right?”

You'd always thought it had to be one or the other.

Taehyung was Strawberry 🍓

Classic, comforting, consistent. The sweetness of red stained lips and warm hugs that felt like home. Fresh air that made you sleepy while laundry hung on the line. Your Grandmother’s kitchen filled with memories and knowing you were safe.

Jungkook was Lemonade 🍋

Even if you knew what to expect, it always stunned you. A surprise tang that made everything feel like you were a kid on a summer day again. Bright yellow sunshine that permeated your eyelids making your body feel electric, alive and invincible.

But she was right why not have both?

The sunshine felt good on your skin. The decision had lightened your mind and as the waves broke on the shore you were lulled into an unguarded slumber.

If the whispers and stifled giggles hadn't given them away their shadows blocking out the sunshine through your eyelids would have.

"I don't know what you two think you're going to do, but you probably shouldn't."

Raising your hand to shield your face you carefully cracked your eyelids open.

Jungkook stood by your feet, water droplets glistening over his body.

"We wanted to apologise for yesterday." Placing his hand on the back of his neck his usual confidence wavered.

Taehyung laid down and pulled you into a wet bear hug. "We've decided to be mature about this, whoever you decide to pick we'll have no hard feelings."

"What if I don't want to pick, what if I want both of you?"

By the looks on their faces they clearly weren't expecting that as your answer.

"I don't need you to make a decision right away. I'm going to my room so you two can think about it."

Grabbing your drink you smiled and walked away.

Leaving the door unlocked you knew it wouldn't take long for their erections to override their brains. There was a light rapping on the door before the handle turned.

"We came to an agreement and we think that we would probably be okay sharing you."

Taehyung spoke while Jungkook stood blushing.

"But we want to know, how will it work?"

Jungkook cut in, "I think we need rules so we both get equal attention."

Walking closer to Jungkook you knew he'd been feeling neglected.

"Listen, sometimes one of us will need something and sometimes ALL of us will need something…"

You kissed his lips. "Right now I need something from both of you."

You pulled Tae in closer.

"You interrupted the other day and Jungkook never got me off. So the ground rules will come after I do."

Both their jaws were slack and they stood staring not knowing where to even begin.

"Are we good with this arrangement?" To help seal the deal you had a hand on each of them rubbing their growing bulges as they nodded.

"Can I make you cum first? I feel so bad about the other day."

Taehyung snickered.

"I don't know why that's so funny Tae, it's your fault for interrupting. It certainly wasn't from his lack of skill."

You moved your hand away from him and lifted Jungkook's shirt off.

"So, since I didn't get to cum because of you, you don't get to cum until Jungkook has taken care of me."

Used to be in charge, he didn't know what to do or where to be.

"Take your clothes off and sit in that chair, you're going to have to watch."

Jungkook undid the top of your bikini while you let the bottoms fall to your feet. Pulling down his shorts you walked him to the bed. "I need you to finish what you started."

Once again he spread your legs, however, this time it was a performance with an audience and he had a point to prove.

Making sure his Hyung could see everything he began to lay big soft tongue kisses over your excited entrance.

"Fuck Jungkook, I haven't been able to stop thinking about your mouth."

He was skilled. Between his tongue, his lips and his fingers your thighs shook uncontrollably. You looked towards Taehyung, he was watching intently with dark hungry eyes while stroking himself. His lips were parted and heavy breaths escaped everytime his hand moved over his tip.

"I think Taehyung wants a turn Kookie."

Jungkook didn't miss a beat. "He can lick my cum out of you when I'm finished."

"Jungkook, if you can't share you're going to have to leave."

He huffed, so used to getting his way. "You've only got one cunt."

"I do, and if you both want to stay you're both going to lick it."

Jungkook pulled away and flopped on the bed. "Fine, let me know when it's my turn again."

Dipping your finger inside yourself then running it around your lips you teased him, "Tae, do you want some?"

Taehyung grinned, his huge cock stood stiff and straight as he walked over to lay between your legs.

Dragging his finger through your wetness he slowly sank it inside you. Like he was starved he attached his mouth to you, his tongue dancing over your clit, slowly, softly, deliberately. Taehyung did nothing without purpose and his purpose was very clear.

"Holy shit."

Your hands reached to grip the sheets but Jungkook's thigh was closer.

He was staring, watching your face wrecked with pleasure.

"Please Kookie, I want you both so badly."

Shifting down the bed he filled the remaining space between your legs.

Taehyung coaxed him, "Not everything has to be a competition between us."

His fingers delicately opened you wide, "think of it more like choreo, working together."

Wrapping his lips around your aroused bud he sucked softly.

"Let's make this about her."

Their tongues worked in tandem just adjacent to your pleasure point. Their timidness could easily be mistaken for teasing if you didn't know how nervous they both were to be together in such intamacy.

"Please I need this," you couldn't help but beg desperately. 

Without looking at each other their tongues explored further meeting tentatively in the middle to combine their efforts. Inhibitions forgotten, the grander pursuit of ecstasy took over reason and apprehension. 

Their mixed saliva dripped down to where Taehyung's finger was circling around you seeking permission to enter. 

"Your ass is so tight, I'm calling dibs."

Sliding back up beside you he looked like a man possessed. Dark eyes stared into your soul as his fingertips rolled your nipples. 

He ran his nose up your neck and practically hissed, "Can I fuck it?" 

"uh huh." was all you could muster. 

Standing up he grabbed something from his shorts on the floor and moved back towards the chair. "Why don't you come sit on my lap?" 

You tugged Jungkook's hair trying to get his attention, "Change in position baby." 

He sloppily kissed up your stomach, over your breasts and his lips lingered along your jawline. His hard cock was pressed against your leg as he wiggled his hips in search of relief. 

His warm breath tickled your neck as he sighed, "I'm not going to stop until I make up for the quickie." 

His fingers slid inside you while his mouth latched onto your peaked nipple. Suckling as he pumped between your legs he whispered. "I'm want to make you cum so hard." 

The lurid sound of your wetness filled the air as your body squirmed in stimulation. "I'm gonna cum, don't stop, please …" 

His hand moved faster, your orgasm exploding, breaching its bodily confines as you cried out his name in satisfaction. 

Taking a minute to let you come down he got up, pulling you with him. 

Taehyung sat waiting with a smile, condom already stretched over his impressive cock. About to straddle him Jungkook turned you around. 

"You're gonna face me okay." 

"Okay"

He steadied you as you backed toward Tae. Placing your feet to squat on either side of his hips you lowered yourself towards his waiting shaft. 

"Have you done this before?" Taehyung's honey voice dripped into your ear. 

You nodded blushing.

"Of course you have my dirty girl." 

He pushed up and you pushed down, his tip sliding through the tight ring.

Your mouth open, and head back it was a painful adjustment. Jungkook stood staring at your breasts, your arched back making them sit pert on your chest. 

Walking closer, his cock stood pink, weepy and desperate for release while he stroked it. 

Adjusting your grip on the arm rest Taehyung began thrusting into the new more relaxed angel, deep moans rolling out of him like thunder. 

"Now you Jungkook." You pleaded, "I want you both at the same time." 

Jungkook's face was flush, overwhelmed with the scenario unfolding before him. 

"Just focus on me Jungkook, on how much my pussy is aching for you to fill it." 

His breath shook as he balanced his knees on the small remaining chair space. His tip, lingering at your entrance teased the wet folds driving your anticipation crazy. 

Waiting for his turn to jump in, he was trying to match Taehyung's rhythm like a sordid game of double dutch. 

In and out and in and out and oh god when he was finally in. 

Their dropped inhibitions along with the feeling of them thrusting into you in unison was almost too much to bear. Rubbing against your thin wall that lay between them, they must be able to feel it? Head to head their cocks pressing together in your sexual vice. 

The thought of their intimacy combined with their collective moans under you and over you made your skin shiver in ecstasy. 

 "Is this what you wanted? Both of us stuffed inside you?" 

Taehyung was eager with his words. Expletives and praise fell off his tongue in equal measure. 

"Once Jungkook makes that pretty pussy cum again I want you to finish both of us in your mouth." 

Jungkook was biting his lip, still fucking you with a determined concentration. As sweat built over his warm skin Taehyung lay back and wrapped his arms around your thighs. Pulling your knees back he spread you wider for his friend. 

"Lean in and fuck her deeper."

Ever the Maknae, Jungkook listened to his Hyung and ground himself into you slowly until he bottomed out inside your wet wonderland.  Your body shook with pleasure as your cunt pulsated, your second orgasam so close. 

Letting go of your leg Taehyung put his thumb to Jungkook's mouth. 

"Open," he commanded. 

Jungkook licked and sucked the digit until it was pulled hastily from his greedy mouth. Letting his hand wander to the space between you Taehyung rubbed the wet appendage roughly over your clit. 

It only took seconds, the sound of your own pleasured cries ringing through your head as the white lightning orgasm tore through and took over your body. 

Both men lay still enveloping you, Jungkook's face scrunching in concentration as he tried to discourage his own imminent release. 

Tae's soft smiling lips kissed the back of your glistening neck as Jungkook carded his hand gently through your hair brushing it back off your face. Hovering over your mouth his lips skimmed over yours, "Do you think you can finish us baby?"

You didn't have much energy but you nodded knowing that whatever was left you'd use it all to please them however they wanted. 

Jungkook stood and taking your hand helped lift you to the floor. Quickly throwing his condom aside Taehyung joined, wrapping his arms around you. Both men were attentive and grateful yet still acutely unsatisfied. Their lips and hands travelled over you appreciatively while their cocks stood begging for attention. 

Sinking to your knees their half moans half exhales spurred your enthusiasm to please them. 

Taking Jungkook in your mouth you could taste yourself all over him. Your sticky excitement was built up around his balls and you licked it off as he watched intently. 

Your hand slid up and down Tae's shaft easily with the lube left behind from the condom. They were equally thick and perfect, you couldn't help but smile up at them pleased with your choice to take them both.

"Fuck you're beautiful with a cock in your mouth." Tae purred while pumping himself into your grip. 

"Want to see what yours looks like?" 

He didn't have to answer, you gripped onto Jungkook and let your mouth take Tae. 

Alternating between them, rubbing and sucking back and forth they took turns having their way with your face. The breathing got heavier and they were getting greedy with your mouth. Gripping them both, your hands grasped tightly and pumped them until they were whining. 

"Where do you want it?" Jungkook asked urgently. Wrapping his own hand around his length he spurt his hot load into your open waiting mouth and proceeded to stand looking dazed as you turned towards Taehyung. 

"Are you gonna swallow that?"

You looked up with big eyes, mouth open and shook your head no while holding Jungkook's load on your tongue. 

A Few furious strokes later Taehyung came undone, filling the rest of your mouth with his salty excitement. 

Gripping your chin, his thumb caressed your jaw. "What are you waiting for?" 

Getting off your knees you stood to meet their gaze, swallowed and smiled. "Sometimes things taste better combined." 

The last day was quiet, you'd not spoken to either man since yesterday's trist. Bags were packed, passports were lost and located and staff scurried around making sure everything was in order. Your mind was left to wander. You'd hoped the lack of communication was from exhaustion and not embarrassment, you didn't regret a thing.  

Separate cars rolled into the airport and you stood by yourself not wanting to make them uncomfortable in case they indeed had doubts over what had happened. 

Deep into your twitter feed you felt a warm arm wrap around your waist. Jungkook smiled shyly, "I was hoping you'd sit with me this time. You know keep things equal." 

Walking over Taehyung raised his eyebrows at the both of you, "I have a better idea." He held out three new boarding passes, "I got us our own cabin."

THANK YOU FOR READING 💜

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[writtenbyrain]

The Lucky One

Read it on AO3

Summary: What if Master Fu hadn't been the only reason Marinette was late to her first day of school? What if, when Ladybug told Chat Noir she was in love with someone else, it really was someone else? Really, it comes down to this: What if Marinette met Luka before Adrien?

Notes: This is written for @feminaexlux for the LBSC 2021 Valentine's Day Exchange! I'm your secret admirer, so happy Valentine's Day, beautiful — I hope you enjoy the fic! 💕 Also, thank you so much to the lovely @chrwrites for beta reading! Word Count: 2,873

Luka loved his little sister more than words could describe, which was precisely why he couldn’t let her leave for her first day of school without her lucky pink hair clip.

Sure, she never really wore it; in fact, she seemed far more comfortable allowing her purple bangs to obscure her features in an increasingly persistent effort to hide from scrutinizing eyes. But that didn’t stop her from bringing the clip with her every day, anyway, just in case she ever found the strength to let herself be seen.

And as Luka waited patiently for her to unearth that courage for herself, he did his best to support and encourage her in any way he could, which was precisely why he found himself racing toward Collège Françoise Dupont on the first morning of the school year.

“Sorry, excuse me,” he mumbled to no one in particular as he pedaled perilously close to cars and took street corners just a hair too sharp.

That morning, as he had been organizing his own school books and binders, he found the small hair clip sitting forlornly on the deck of the Liberty. It must have fallen out of Juleka’s backpack, he realized, considering the haste with which she had raced off to meet Rose.

Thus, he now found himself down the street from the school, approaching the corner where a charming bakery huddled adjacent to the campus.

Only, just as he reached the crosswalk, an old man with a cane hobbled out into the road, where—

“Whoah, watch out!”

Luka skidded to a stop, tearing off his helmet as he ran to grab the man’s left arm. At the same time, another girl in pigtails, one arm burdened with a pastry box, ran out into the oncoming traffic to grab onto the man’s right.

Narrowly missing the bumper of a passing car, Luka huffed in relief as all three of them staggered back onto the edge of the sidewalk — but not before the girl in pigtails tripped, landing heavily on her hands and knees.

The crosswalk flicked green, then, and pedestrians began to obliviously mill past.

“Are you okay?” Luka bent down to grab the girl by the elbow, just as a cane appeared in his peripheral vision. “Are you hurt?”

The old man they had rescued edged closer to clear his throat before the girl could respond.

“Thank you, both of you,” he said before eyeing the box the girl had dropped. Pistachio green macaron shells lay shattered along the cement. “Oh! What a disaster.”

“Don’t worry, I’m no stranger to disaster. Besides, there are still a few left,” the girl responded buoyantly as she sat up and recovered the surviving cookies. She turned to Luka. “Oh! And y-yes! I’m okay! I’m just such a clutz, thank you for helping me.”

Her cheeks were dusted with a subtle pink as she looked up at Luka, his hand still resting gingerly on her arm.

She’s cute, he thought to himself before glancing back toward the crosswalk. And kind. Maybe I should—

The school bell rang, then, and the girl whipped her head back around, her eyes wide.

“Oh no, I’m going to be late!” She stood and hurriedly shut the lid of the pastry box before angling back toward the road. “H-have a nice day!”

“Wait!” Luka grabbed the girl’s wrist before she could barrel across to the campus. “You go to Collège Françoise Dupont?”

“I-uh, yes?”

“You don’t happen to know Juleka Couffaine, do you?”

The girl straightened and turned fully back toward Luka, her eyes flicking to where his fingers curled around her wrist. Her blush reemerged, albeit more brightly this time.

“I do! W-we’re in the game sass together! Well, I-I mean the same class,” she clarified nervously. “We’ve b-been in the same class. Together. Maybe we’ll be in the same class together again, this year, I mean.”

Luka just chuckled and grabbed the clip from where he had stuffed it in his pocket on the way out.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Ma-ma-Marinette.”

“Well, ma-ma-Marinette, if you happen to see Juleka, can you please give this to her?” With one hand still on her upturned wrist, Luka pressed the clip into her palm. “You can tell her that her brother Luka dropped it off.”

________

If she thought about it hard enough, Marinette could imagine she still felt the pressure on her hand from where the boy — well, where Luka — had pressed Juleka’s hair clip into her palm, even though weeks had gone by.

Juleka was, in fact, in her class again, which seemed to work to Marinette’s advantage.

As time went on, Luka made increasingly regular appearances after school, primarily to pick up Juleka and walk her back to the Liberty at the end of the day.

And if Marinette made the conscious decision to linger around the front steps of the school under the guise of sketching or organizing her backpack, who needed to be the wiser? (Albeit Tikki did occasionally chide her for running even later than usual.)

But every day that Luka took the time to stop, say hello, and ask to see her sketches, she knew that the loss of time was worth it. “Hey, Marinette!”

Absolutely worth it.

________

Despite the fact that everything had turned out well in the end, Luka wasn’t sure that his righteous anger that morning had been worth it.

And as much as he refused to show it, he felt a twisting pit of shame and apprehension in his stomach.

Ladybug and Chat Noir had just released him from Hawkmoth’s akuma, and he was about to take center stage with the rest of Kitty Section for their well-earned television debut. While this moment should have been exhilarating — triumphant, even — all he could think about was what Marinette must think of him now.

Marinette, who always went out of her way to help those around her.

Marinette, who spent what precious little time she had making costumes for the band.

Marinette, who was kind and gentle, and had now seen him at his worst.

Who had now seen him as a villain… literally.

Luka took a steadying breath, one thumb skimming nervously over his Kitty Section mask as he prepared to step out in front of the cameras… until he felt warm fingers encircling his wrist.

He half-turned, the pit in his stomach sinking even further.

“Luka?” Marinette stood there before him, one hand bashfully coming up to her face. “Did you really mean those things you said when you were akumatized?”

Wait, was she… blushing? No, that couldn’t be.

Not after today.

“I'm sorry, Marinette, but I don't remember,” Luka said slowly as the pit twisted itself into butterflies. “What did I say?”

“Uh, oh, n-nothing,” Marinette stuttered. She looked down and rubbed nervously at the back of her neck. “It was nothing at all. You were possessed by Hawkmoth's akuma.”

“I don't know what I possibly could've said. I just hope it wasn't anything mean, because—”

He had to tell her how he felt. Now. Because if he didn’t, what else was she supposed to think? What if what he said while he was akumatized made her think that he didn’t—

“—You're the most extraordinary girl, Marinette.” He grabbed her shoulders earnestly. “As clear as a musical note and as sincere as a melody. You’re the music that’s been playing inside my head since the first day we met.”

The words sat right on his tongue, as well-rehearsed as his fingers on the frets of his guitar. He squeezed his hands once more on her shoulders before turning around to take the stage.

Though he had just recovered from being Silencer, he thought, perhaps he still had one thing left to silence: His doubts.

________

Ladybug had little doubt in her decision today, even if she found herself gritting her teeth and bearing with the stench of Paris’s sewers — again.

Really, she and Chat Noir had made somewhat of a habit of coming down into the watery maze beneath the city, and she was beginning to think that it was time to find an alternative place to run and hide.

As much as she cared for the silly kitty, sometimes the time they spent alone became a little overwhelming, what with his constant flirtation and declarations of love. And coming down to the sewers didn’t exactly make his attempts seem any more romantic.

… Wait, in that case, maybe being in the sewers wasn’t too bad of an idea.

In any case, she had tried time and again to tell Chat Noir that she was in love with someone else — someone with deft fingers, blue hair, and eyes that were bluer still — but the blonde still didn’t seem to be deterred.

Which was what gave Ladybug the idea to bestow a Miraculous upon Luka.

He was a natural match for combat after all, right?

Luka, who was so level-headed.

Luka, who always took the time to think before acting or speaking.

Luka, who genuinely put the needs of others before himself.

He had demonstrated as much on the day they met, after all. Who else would make themself late to school not only to help an old man out of the street, but to also make sure his little sister had her favorite hair clip on hand?

Luka was selfless, caring, observant, cute—

Yes, that settled it: Luka was the perfect candidate for a Miraculous.

Today, Chat Noir seemed to think they should give this particular one to Adrien Agreste, but Marinette wasn’t so sure. Would the celebrity model really be cut out for an akuma battle, let alone one that had brought them down into the sewers?

Probably not.

Closing her eyes and ignoring the acrid stench of garbage as she sucked in a determined breath, Ladybug called Luka out of the locker Chat Noir had left him in. Hesitantly, he approached the spot where Ladybug stood by a metal ladder that led to the surface.

“Luka Couffaine,” she began. Gently, she turned his hand over and pressed a box into his palm, much in the way he had pressed a clip into hers some months ago. “This is the Miraculous of the Snake, which grants the power of Second Chance. You will use it for the greater good. Once the job is done, you will return the Miraculous to me. Can I trust you?”

Of course, she knew the answer even before Luka smiled and nodded.

His hands tightened around hers knowingly.

________

Of course, knowing and understanding were two very different things.

After Miracle Queen had come and unnerved all of the Miraculous wielders by revealing their identities, Ladybug, in particular, had seemed uncharacteristically dispirited. Even Chat Noir seemed to hold himself at arm’s length from the heroine, albeit Luka didn’t understand why.

Nor did he understand why, over the past several weeks, she had appeared at his window in frequent blurs of red and black, offering him time with Sass under the condition that he come out to patrol in Chat Noir’s place.

Of all the previously-exposed Miraculous holders, he was the only one she had recalled to the field, even though it was never for the express purpose of an akuma battle.

Now, racing along Paris’s rooftops, Viperion did his best not to pry, though he couldn’t help but feel concerned at the discordant melody that was all but radiating off the girl. Weeks had passed, but something about Ladybug was still off-beat.

Patrol that night was almost over and it was only getting more and more difficult not to ask questions, especially considering she—

“We’re here.”

Ladybug landed gracefully on the final rooftop of the evening, her expression indifferent as she hooked her yo-yo around her hip and looked out at the distant wash of lights across Paris. She released a silent sigh through her nose, the rise and fall of her shoulders otherwise betraying her neutral demeanor.

Viperion landed beside her, consciously restraining himself from coaxing a sad melody out of his lyre and asking, “Do you feel kind of like this?”

“Why don’t we stop to catch our breath?” he asked instead. “Before we go our separate ways, I mean.”

Ladybug’s gaze flicked up to him in question before softening a fraction.

“Sure,” she murmured, her softly-emerging smile a small victory in Viperion’s heart. “I brought a snack, anyway. Just in case we got hungry.”

As Viperion lowered himself to sit on the ledge of the roof, Ladybug padded to the opposite side, bending down to grab a pastry box before returning and perching herself next to him. As she opened the lid, Viperion didn’t try to suppress his own smile.

Pistachio green macarons sat in a neat row within the box, their fragile shells still perfectly in-tact.

“These look delicious,” he said, gently removing one with his right thumb and forefinger. His left hand skimmed distractedly over the hidden pocket of his Miraculous suit.

The two sat that way for several minutes, the silence of the night punctuated only by the occasional passing car or giggling civilian. Ladybug and Viperion, meanwhile, relished in the quiet anonymity provided by both the height and the shadows of the building they sat atop.

Eventually, Ladybug sighed once more — this time more audibly — and leaned to rest her head against Viperion’s shoulder.

“You’re unbelievably brave, you know.”

“What?” Ladybug lifted her head to look at him through her falling bangs.

“I said you’re incredibly brave,” he repeated, his eyes fixed forward. “And I just want you to know you don’t have to shoulder all of the burden on your own.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Ladybug’s brows furrowed. “I mean, I asked you to come out and help patrol with me, didn’t I?”

Viperion just chuckled once more, as he often did while contemplating how best to string his words together like a discernible song of their own.

“Yes, and I’m grateful you did,” he conceded. “But you and I both know that’s not all. And maybe that’s why I don’t feel any doubt, anymore.”

“What … what did you doubt?”

Luka paused a moment, his hand once more pressing against his pocket. This time, he pulled the contents out and curled his fingers around it protectively.

“I guess… I doubted that you wanted me to be there for you,” he said. “But, lately, you’ve been leaning on me more, both in and out of the suit—”

Ladybug gasped.

“—And that makes me happy.”

Viperion turned, grabbing Ladybug’s wrist with a feather-light touch. Turning her palm up, he pressed a small clip into her hand before closing her fingers. Then he pulled her in for a reassuring hug, careful to hold her gently enough that she could pull away if she wanted to.

He heard her sniff before he felt her burrow into his neck. His skin was cooled by the unexpected dampness of her cheeks.

“Juleka gave me her lucky hair clip several weeks ago,” he explained. “She said she hoped it would help me to find the luck and courage I needed to tell the girl I love about my feelings, which… I guess I already did. So this time, I’ll just tell you that I know what you’re facing and, if you ever need someone to shoulder more of the burden for you, I’ll always be here. My life is already filled with music, but you add the sweetest harmony of all, Marinette.”

Ladybug hiccuped, wrapping her arms hastily around Viperion’s waist. One hand remained fisted around the clip while the other pressed between his shoulder blades, silently asking him to hold her tighter.

So he did.

Humming the heartsong he had written for Marinette weeks ago, Viperion pressed his cheek into her hair and rubbed circles into her back. His body shook slightly as the girl gasped and wept, but he didn’t dare let go. Not until she was ready.

Several minutes later, her body had finally relaxed into his, the sobs gone and her breath evening out. His humming trailed off as she slowly unwound her arms from around him.

“I’m sorry, Luka,” she whispered as she pulled back and wiped at her face. “It’s all just been so much.”

“I know. And I’ll be here for you every step of the way, in whatever way you’ll have me.”

Finally, the girl smiled — the first real, genuine smile he had seen from her in weeks.

Viperion’s heart soared with relief.

“You’re right you know,” she said, uncurling her fingers to once more reveal the clip. “You didn’t need this lucky clip to tell me how you feel. Though, to be honest, I feel like I’m the lucky one.”

Slowly setting the clip down beside them, Ladybug reached up, pressing one hand to Viperion’s cheek and the other to the back of his head.

His eyes fell closed as he bent his head low, his lips catching hers just as she pressed closer to meet him. This time, his hands floated to her waist, the moment weaving a delicate new melody around him.

Her lips were softer than he’d ever imagined... and tasted faintly of pistachios.

No, he thought distantly. I’m definitely the lucky one.

[kcarreras]

Underneath Tangerine Skies

Fandom: Outer Banks Pairing: JJ Maybank & Kiara Carerra Summary: Set after 2x10: JJ & Kie discuss the events of that day on the ship which leads to some emotional chat which naturally leads to them making out against a tree… you’re welcome.

The Pogues never had any real idea of the exact time whilst they were on the island, for obvious reasons, but on this occasion - with the sun sitting low in the sky, casting pink and orange hues out across the water - Kie’s best guess was that it was early evening. The temperature had begun to drop, humidity dissipating a little, making it easier to breathe.

She had been traipsing around the island for a while now, looking for JJ, when she cast her eyes up to the grassy embankment lined sporadically with trees ahead of her, where the solid ground of the island met the white sandy beach.

“Thank god,” she sighed in relief at the sight of him sitting at the foot of one of the bigger trees. His back was against the trunk, his knees bent and forearms resting on them, looking out across the water.

“JJ!” she called as she made her way over to him and up the sandy slope, but he didn’t seem to hear her over the sound of the lapping waves.

The waves against the shore was a sound they all seemed to find comforting - something familiar to remind them of their real island home - but JJ seemed to seek it out more often than the rest of them.

“Hellooo,” she sing-songed and JJ turned in her direction, a smile spreading out across his features as he noticed her approaching. Kie’s arms were held out either side of her to keep her balance, eyes focused on her feet as she sunk slightly into the soft sand of the slope with each step.

“What are you doing out here on your own?” Kie asked, trying desperately not to sound like an overprotective mother.

“Everyone’s looking for you. We were worried you’d been eaten by your ‘nemesis’”.

JJ raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

“The ‘Killer Island Lizard’, who else?” Kie clarified with a roll of her eyes as she dropped down next to him with a knowing grin, pulling her knees up to her chest to mirror his position as she dusted the sand from her hands.

On their second night on the island, JJ woke everyone up, jumping around and hollering in the dark about some huge lizard-like creature that had apparently crawled into their shelter. By the time they had fumbled around in a panic in the pitch black looking for one of the last remaining flare guns from the raft to use as a light, it had ‘disappeared’.

Once John B had swiftly yet gently smacked him round the back of the head for scaring the shit out of them all in the middle of the night, they tried to explain that it was probably nothing - just a figment of his imagination or a too-real nightmare. But JJ being JJ, he refused to accept all their rational responses. He’d of course began by naming it the most basic yet ridiculous name he could think of - hence the Killer Island Lizard - and had insisted that he sit up through the night and keep watch, determined to prove it was real. Every morning since, though, the Pogues had woken up to JJ passed out asleep at his “post” with his Swiss army knife still in-hand and - unsurprisingly - no evidence. It had kind of become a running joke.

“You know, you guys can laugh all you want, but I’ve seen it, with my own two eyes,” he began, his middle and index finger forming a ‘V’ as he gestured from his eyes to Kie’s. “All scale-y and fang-y and shit,” he finished with a dramatic shudder.

“Right,” Kie drawled with a roll of her eyes, knocking her shoulder into his.

“I’m just sayin’, don’t come crying to me when this little island retreat of ours turns into a low-budget remake of Planet of the Dinosaurs.”

“Planet of the Dinosaurs? Okay, first of all JJ, that’s not even a thing,” Kie replied, her signature ‘where did I even find these boys’ expression on her face, and JJ shrugged. “Second of all, if we have to compare your ridiculous lizard scenario to a movie, it’d be more like Jurassic Park.”

“Whatever,” he said, unbothered by her correction. “Doesn’t matter anyway, ‘cause luckily for you, I owe you one. Therefore, I promise to rescue you first before I come back for the others.” He proudly assured her, as if she needed it.

“Of course… and not that I’m complaining or anything, but what exactly have I done to deserve the top spot on JJ Maybank’s rescue list?” Kie asked, feigning flattery with a hand over her chest.

“I don’t know if you remember, Kie, but you jumped off a freakin’ cargo ship into the middle of the ocean to save my ass. I think you earned the top spot,” he replied.

“Well what kinda Pogue would I be if I’d just let your ass drown like that? Especially since you took the blunt end of that machete to the head defending me,” she said, her tone light. She was still smiling, but JJ saw something akin to guilt flash across her eyes as she spoke.

“Oh, so it was all to do with you maintaining your pogue rep, and nothing to do with how miserable you’d be without me around?” he asked, knocking her knee with his.

Kie’s smile faltered at the words “without me around”, and her gaze dropped from his face to her hands, which were hugging her knees as she fidgeted with her rings. She lifted her eyes for a second, looking out to the ocean ahead of them, vast and endless, and quickly blinked in an attempt to suppress the tears that stung at the corner of her eyes.

She took a deep breath, composing herself before speaking again.

“C’mon, we better get going before everyone thinks we really have been eaten by your stupid killer-lizard,” she said with a half-hearted laugh as she moved to her feet.

She had barely left the sand when JJ’s hand reached up and took a gentle hold of her wrist, causing her to land back down on the same spot with a soft thud.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, tipping his head forward to try and meet her eyes, but she was looking straight down into her lap.

“Kie, look at me for a second, would you?” he said, reaching across the short distance between them to tilt her chin up until her eyes met his.

She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were glassy and it looked like tears were threatening to spill. With one blink, one fell from each eye, running down her cheeks until she reached up and swiped her two hands across her face, capturing them.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and it sounded so sincere that she was sure her heart actually cracked open a little.

“Nothing, it’s stupid,” she said, casting her eyes upwards to the sky, but she felt JJ’s gaze stay on her. “It’s just, we’ve been here, what? Like a week? And we still haven’t talked about it.”

“Talked about what?” he asked.

“About the ship, JJ. You almost died,” she said, as if he somehow wasn’t already aware.

“Yeah, I know, Kie, I was there,” he said with a humourless chuckle.

“No, JJ. You don’t get it,” she said, taking hold of one of his hands in hers. His eyes dropped down for a second in surprise to look, and her knuckles were pale with the pressure of her grip.

“When I looked over the side of that ship and you were face-down in the water, every instinct in my body told me to jump. So I did, without a second thought.” Kie said, her voice beginning to sound almost panicked, as if she was reliving it as she spoke.

“Kie, it’s okay. You don’t have to-” he tried to interrupt, but she had started and now she couldn’t stop.

“I held you up, and I tried not to panic, and I treaded that water until I felt like my lungs were going to burst.”

She was breathless, her words rushed, and JJ squeezed her hand that was still holding his.

“I don’t know how I did it, Jage. John B and Pope asked me how we didn’t go under, and I don’t know the answer. All I know is that it was never an option for me not to at least try. I mean, I can’t even imagine-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” JJ comforted her, pulling her into his side with the hand they had been holding. He sat back against the trunk of the tree, and she settled into the space beside him, her head resting where his chest met his shoulder. His arm went around her waist to hold her in place, and squeezed gently.

“You don’t have to imagine anything, alright? I’m here, you’re here, everyone’s good, Kie.”

Her hands gripped at the material of his tank, eyes closed as she tried to ground herself and slow her breath. After a few seconds, she felt the side of his head gently rest on the top of hers.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, until she felt JJ shift beside her. He lifted his head and turned at the waist until his body was facing hers.

“You know, when we were on the deck, and that guy was swinging the machete around?” he began, his eyes dropping to look straight down into Kie’s, and she nodded, staring back up at him. “He was behind you, and all I knew in that moment as I was running towards him was that I didn’t care what happened to me, as long as you were okay.”

“Jay-,” Ki tried to say, but he continued anyway.

“It was never an option for me not to try, either… because God know’s, Kie, I can’t imagine-”

Before she had time to talk herself out of it, she leaned up, her hand still gripping the front of his tank as she pulled him down toward her. Her mouth collided with his, then she pushed upward, JJ’s back pressing against the tree trunk behind them. They were still for a second, their lips pressed together, eyes closed and hearts pounding in sync against each other’s chests. Almost instantly, JJ’s hands came up to take hold of her face and then they were honest to God kissing.

It could have been seconds or minutes or hours, who knows, but suddenly she didn’t feel close enough and Kie turned herself more toward him, pushing up onto her knees before straddling his lap. They eventually broke apart, out of breath and eyes bright. Kie’s hands were knotted in the front of his shirt, and JJ’s had found their way to her hips. Her forehead was resting against his, both their breathing still laboured.

“This is a bad idea, right?” he asked, eyes still closed and his mouth inches from hers.

“For sure. Maybe the worst idea either of us has ever had,” Kie replied, but her mouth fell forward to meet his again, and she felt him tighten his grip on her hips before sliding his hands up her back beneath her shirt.

“Do you- wanna- stop?” he hesitantly questioned between kisses, and she shook her head silently, her mouth still against his as she rolled her hips. His mouth fell open for a second, a startled groan escaping, and Kie couldn’t help but pull away to smile against his mouth. In response, one of his hands went straight to the back of her head, tangling in her hair as he pulled her mouth back to meet his, kissing her deeper before tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth. This time it was Kie that moaned into JJ’s mouth, and he grinned as her hand raked it’s way through his hair, pulling on it until he released her lip with a groan.

“Up,” she said, gesturing for him to raise his arms with a glassy-eyed smile. He did, and she took hold of the bottom of his tank and pulled it up over his head, throwing it down on the sand beside them. They were kissing again instantly, his hands squeezing her hips as her hands roamed over his bare chest, nails dragging and causing his skin to prickle with goosebumps. She smiled against his mouth, and he pulled back, his head resting against the tree as his hands came to rest on the smooth expanse of her thighs as she sat back on his lap.

“Fairs, fair,” he said, his eyes slowly dropping from her eyes to her chest and back again.

Kie rolled her eyes and smirked, crossing her arms over her stomach and pulling her shirt over her head, tossing it down on top of JJ’s. He smiled wide, eyes ablaze and biting his lip as he slid his hands up her thighs and back to her hips, pulling her forward so they were flush against each other.

She tried to ignore the eruption of goosebumps across her skin at the forefulness of the motion as he ran his fingers up and down the bare skin of her waist, setting her insides alight, and deflected with a question.

“You’ve seen me in a bikini a million times, what’s the big deal?” she asked, arms hooked loosely around his neck, fingers playing mindlessly with the ends of his messy hair.

“When a girl looks as hot as you in a bikini, it’s a big deal every time you see it,” he replied, leaning forward to catch her lips again but she leaned back, throwing a hand up covering his mouth, and he looked at her confused.

“Just any girl in a bikini, or…?” she asked with an exaggerated, quizzical look and he swatted her hand away pulling her to him by her wrist with a roll of his eyes, causing Kie to pull her bottom lip between her teeth to contain a laugh.

“Just you, dumbass. Now stop fishing for compliments and c’mere…” he said as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, all traces of her smile disappearing as her eyes fell closed at the sensation of his mouth against her skin. Her hips began moving against him again, and she wasn’t even aware she was doing it until his name started to fall from her mouth in breathy whispers. This only spurred JJ on, and he began pulling her hips downwards as she rolled them, increasing the pressure.

“Fuck,” she groaned, a little louder than she intended, when they hit a particularly good rhythm.

JJ had moved to the other side of her neck now, and Kie had tilted her head back to allow him more access. Her bottom lip was between her teeth in an attempt to stop any more outbursts that might get them caught.

JJ made his way back up her neck, along her jaw and to her lips, her name rolling off his tongue and into her mouth like a prayer.

Her hands, which were back in his hair at this point, pulled on a handful and he broke away from her breathless, eyes falling closed for a second before his head came to rest against the tree again.

He watched as her hands went behind her back to remove her bikini top, and he groaned, cursing under his breath and squeezing his eyes shut as he brought his hands up to stop her.

“Whoa there, hold up,” he breathed.

“Wha- what’s wrong?” Kie asked breathlessly, confusion clouding her flushed face as she tried to catch her breath, her hand running through her long, dark hair.

“Nothing. It’s just…” he said, leaning forward and looking around in every direction, just to make sure no one had wandered nearby whilst they were… distracted.

“Jay, if you wanna stop, we can stop…” she said, suddenly feeling a little on display straddled across him, inches from his face and minus half their combined clothing.

“Are you kidding?” he said with a laugh, his eyebrows raised incredulously. “Fuck no, I don’t wanna stop. It’s just, we’re gonna have to stop eventually because we can’t… y’know, here…” he said, making all sorts of expressions and gestures to get his point across. Kie hummed, one eyebrow raised as she deliberately kept her face dead-pan, enjoying watching him squirm.  

“…not that I’m assuming that this was going to lead to that, but - shit. You know what I mean, right? Please tell me you know what I mean,” and a smile broke out across Kie’s face as her head fell forward with a laugh, forehead coming to rest on his gently for a second before sitting back to look at him.

“Oh, I’m glad you’re finding this so funny.” JJ said, his head falling back against the tree, eyes closed and hands dragging down his face.

“I’m sorry,” she started, pressing a hand affectionately to his chest, still laughing. “I just never imagined this scenario playing out with you being the sensible one.”

JJ lifted his head from against the tree, opening one eye curiously.

“But you have imagined it?” He replied with a grin that made him look far too pleased with himself, and Kie gave a gentle push at his chest with a light-hearted roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, well, here I am, being sensible,” he groaned, sitting up straighter against the tree. “Excellent timing as always, JJ,” he muttered under his breath to himself.

“Anyway, the point is, if you do that,” he said, gesturing to the bikini top she had been about to remove, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna have a problem that’s a little difficult to solve with 5 other people around 24/7.”

“My bad,” she conceded, holding her hands up in surrender before leaning forward to press a kiss to his mouth. She settled back in his lap, a little further down his legs to allow him some space to… regroup. She dropped her hands into her lap with a huff as they looked at each other.

“Sooo,” she said, “What do we do now?”

“Excellent question, Kie. I think we start with you putting this back on,” he said, reaching for her shirt and handing it to her. “‘Cause I’m not gonna be able to stand up until you do.”

She laughed with a shake of her head, pulling her top back on and holding her arms out in a “tah-dah” like gesture.

“Better?” she asked, removing herself from his lap altogether and standing with one foot either side of his legs. She extended her hands down to him to help him up.

“Much,” he groaned, taking hold of her outstretched hands, getting to his feet with a huff.

“Okay,” Kie said with a determined sigh. “I’ll go back first, you follow in a few minutes, got it?”

“Got it,” he said, scooping his tank up from the sand and shaking it off, before pulling it over his head.

Kie nodded, but as she turned to walk away, she felt him take hold of her wrist and pull.

“JJ!” she laughed as she stumbled back towards him.

He caught her from behind with his arms around her waist, and pressed kisses into her neck and shoulder, grazing the skin with his lips and teeth.

“Jay,” she protested weakly, tilting her head back and to the side to let him carry on up to the shell of her ear.

“What?” he questioned with fake innocence, his hands pulling at her hips as he pressed up behind her, and she half-laughed, half-groaned.

“You’re the one who wanted to stop,” she reminded him, and she turned in his arms until they were facing each other. Her arms were draped over his shoulders, nails scratching gently at the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well, maybe I changed my mind,” he backtracked as he turned them round, her back hitting the tree he’d been leaning against earlier. The bark dug into the exposed skin of her back and shoulders, and suddenly she was grateful just to have pressure against any part of her body.

“You’re unbelievable,” Kie said as his mouth came back down on hers. She tried to keep her lips pressed together in protest, but then his knee found it’s way between hers, pushing them apart as his thigh came to rest between her legs.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he quipped against her mouth with a grin, nipping at her lip for entry.

“Not gonna happen, you had your chance,” she asserted teasingly between chaste kisses, and she felt his smile widen before he pushed his leg forward and up between hers. Her mouth fell open on instinct, a moan escaping involuntarily from the back of her throat. JJ’s tongue dipped in immediately, and suddenly they were back in a frenzy of hands and tongues and laboured breaths.

By comparison, JJ kept the movement of his leg that was still between hers steady and slow, but before long Kie’s hips were moving erratically on their own against him.

“JJ, fuck,” she groaned into his mouth, her teeth coming down around his bottom lip and he hummed in agreement.

His hands were roaming the bare skin under her shirt again, and he wished more than anything he hadn’t told her to put it back on.

He dropped a hand to her hip, then carried on down the smooth, bare skin of her thigh until he reached the back of her knee. She whimpered as he hiked it up to rest against his waist and her head fell back against the tree as the pressure he was applying between her legs hit a new spot.

“Oh my god, Jay - fuck, that feels so good,” she was practically panting, eyes squeezed shut and her grip digging into his shoulders to hold herself upright.

JJ knew he was asking for trouble with this, there was no way they could risk taking it as far as they both clearly wanted to, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop when she was begging him not to.

“Please don’t stop, JJ, please,” she pleaded breathlessly against his mouth, but to be honest she was doing most of the work, he was just along for the ride. Nevertheless, he responded by kissing her deeper, his grip on her solid and unfaltering, until…

“JJ! Kie!” John B’s voice called from down the beach, and JJ all but dropped her on her ass.

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath, arm swooping to catch her as her feet hit the ground.

“What do we do? What do we say?” he asked in a harsh whisper.

“Just - just say we got lost?” Kie suggested, still breathless and bracing herself against the tree, with an enthusiastic nod of her head.

“Lost?” he repeated, “A half mile along the beach in a straight line?!” He whisper-shouted in response.

“Hey, don’t take it out on me!” she replied, also in a shouted whisper. “I was ready to leave five whole minutes ago, until you pulled me back,”

“Yeah, for the best 5 minutes of your life,” he countered and Kie scoffed. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he muttered just loud enough for her to hear.

Kie shot him an irritated glare before responding in an even lower tone as John B got closer.

“Well, since you’re clearly a man of so many talents, why don’t you think of an excuse for what we’re doing out here on our own?”

“JJ! Kie! Please tell me you guys are alive?” John B’s voice came again, and JJ cast his gaze upwards for a second, muttering curses under his breath, until he spotted something. His eyes dropped back to meet Kie’s with a grin.

“What?” she mouthed to him with a shrug, too scared to use actual words in case John B rumbled them.

JJ began scaling the tree they’d been sitting under, and when Kie looked up, she saw it too.

Mangos.

JJ began plucking them from the branches and tossing them down one at a time to Kie.

“Over here, bro!” JJ called out to John B, and a minute or so later he appeared.

“Where the hell have you guys been?” he asked, as JJ clambered back down from the tree.

He turned to Kie, throwing his arms up. “Kie, you left ages ago.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I couldn’t find dumbass here,” she explained, lazily throwing an arm in JJ’s direction, who was currently too busy trying to balance an obscene amount of mangos in his arms to acknowledge the insult.

“Then on the way back we saw the tree, so we thought we’d just collect some fruit for everyone.”

John B looked at her sceptically.

“Look, John B, it’s no big deal. We’re fine. Let’s just get these back to camp,” she said, gesturing to the remaining mangos scattered across the grassy embankment.

“Sure, okay. Whatever,” John B replied, holding his hands up in defeat before crouching down to collect the fruit.

The three of them made their way back to camp in comfortable conversation, and were greeted by a lot of sarcastic “oh, so they are alive” (Sarah) and “we thought you guys had decided just to swim back to the mainland” (Pope) comments directed at their unexplained absence from the group. They soon became distracted once they noticed the fruit, and before long their escapade was forgotten by the rest of the group and no one questioned it further.

As they all sat round the fire later that night having dinner (fish cooked on a stick over the fire, the usual), Kie and JJ sat together like always, only now they seemed hyper aware of each other. Everytime their knees brushed, or their shoulders bumped, they couldn’t help but steal a glance at each other.

Once everyone had settled under the make-shift shelter at the end of the night, they lay in silence, waiting for the rest to fall asleep before JJ rolled over and wrapped an arm around Kie’s waist, pulling her flush against him and burying his face in her neck.

[fanficsandthings]

Through the Years, Ch. 6

A George Weasley Fanfiction

A George Weasley x Slytherin reader story.

Each chapter shares events in one year of George and reader’s life together.

Word Count: 4k

Author’s note: This year is going to be split up into 2 chapters, so ch 7 will be more of 6th year. I’m going on a short break after this chapter tho, so ch 7 will be posted April 23rd

Year 1, Year 2, Year 3, Year 4, Year 5 

Year 6:  Camping

The campsite was overcrowded and loud as you pushed your way past wizards decked out in green and white. Making your way past overly decorated and way-too-obvious tents, you kept your eyes out for a certain red headed family. You hadn’t seen George in nearly two months, and you were ready to tackle him on sight. 

As you neared the end of the campsite, you were starting to think that you might have missed the Weasley’s tent and would have to start your search again. A familiar voice caught your attention, and you turned to see a red headed girl coming out of a tent on the very edge of the campsite. Ginny was saying something over her shoulder as Hermione followed her out of the tent. 

“Ginny, Hermione!” you called, waving your hand in the air to get her attention. Both the girls turned to look in your direction. 

“Hey!” Ginny called back as she caught your eye. 

You rushed up to meet them outside their tent. They were both wearing the green and white colors of Ireland. 

“You two been having an exciting day?” you asked them. 

“Hermione taught dad how to light a fire the muggle way earlier,” Ginny told you. “It would’ve taken him hours to light one otherwise.” 

“Wish I could��ve been here to see that,” you said with a laugh. “At least he’s trying to blend in. Some of the wizards here don’t seem to care at all.” You gestured vaguely to the gaudy tents around you; the tent Ginny and Hermione came out of being the exception. 

“I feel kind of bad for the muggle at the entrance, Mr. Roberts,” Hermione said. “All those memory charms can’t be good for him.” 

You thought about how he had been Obliviated after he had said something vague about the events being held today when you paid for your campsite. “I hope it doesn’t affect his memory permanently.” 

A tall figure came out of a tent behind the girls’ tent. His long red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and you could assume that he was another Weasley. 

“Have you met Bill?” Ginny asked.

“I haven’t,” you said. 

Ginny led you and Hermione over to Bill, who was beginning to clean up the remains of the fire. Ginny called his name, and he turned to face the three of you. 

“This is--” Ginny started. 

“George’s girlfriend,” Bill finished the sentence for her. You looked at him slightly confused as to how he immediately knew who you were. “George has talked about two things in the last few weeks that I’ve been home: Weasley Wizard Wheezes and the Slytherin girl that he finally got to kiss after over 4 years of having a crush.” 

You could feel your face burning red at the thought of George talking about you that much. 

“I’ve seen every one of those muggle pictures of you two at least 5 times,” Bill continued with a laugh. “He loves to show them off.” 

“He almost went through two of my camera’s last year,” you said. “Errol got lost delivering one back to my parents, and George was a few hours away from going out and looking for him himself when he showed back up with a letter from my mom confirming that they got the camera.” 

“Hey that photo of Snape asleep at his desk, drooling on his papers would’ve been worth the search if Errol really was lost,” Ginny said. 

“That picture has a place of honor on the mirror in my dorm room,” you said, turning to Ginny. “It gives me motivation to go to potions every morning. I’ve enchanted it so none of the other girls can take it down.” 

“Please let me see that picture sometime,” Bill said to you. “How did you even get into his office without him waking up?”

“That’s a secret between Fred, George, and I,” you told him. You turned to Hermione and said in a whisper, “I printed another copy to give to Harry as a thanks for letting me borrow his cloak. Don’t let me forget to give it to him.” 

Hermione’s face formed an expression you were very familiar with. “How do you know about--”

“Anyway!” you cut her off, turning back to the rest of the group. “Where are George and Fred? I have some words for them.”  

Bill opened his mouth to speak, but a rustling was heard from the tent that he had come out of. Everyone turned their attention to the entrance of the tent as two heads popped out. 

“Is that who I think it is?” George asked as he stepped out. 

“George!” you yelled, half in excitement, half in faux anger. Jumping at him, you both fell hard onto the ground. Luckily, your landing was softened by George. 

George was trying hard to catch his breath as he looked up at you. “I can’t tell if you’re happy or angry.”

“A bit of both,” you said while standing up. “My hair was green for almost two weeks before I figured out the counterspell.” You thought about reaching out to help him up but decided against it. “I helped you invent that potion, you’re not supposed to use it against me. I was excited that you sent me sweets only to end up with that.”

George struggled to his feet, rubbing his shoulder where he had hit the ground. “You look good in Slytherin green, so we thought we’d add a little more to your everyday flare.” 

You turned to Fred quickly. “It was your idea, wasn’t it?” 

“I may have suggested it, yes,” he said, not bothering to hide his smirk. 

“You’re lucky it did look good,” you grumbled, reaching into your bag. Pulling out a photo, you handed it to Fred. “Proof that you finally got it to work. Only took you two and half years.” 

“Perfection takes time,” Fred said, smiling down at the photo. “We’ve figured out green, pink, red, and blue so far.” 

“We’re working on yellow next,” George said as he moved to look over Fred’s shoulder at the picture of you. Your hair was the same color as the winter scarf hanging on the wall behind you. 

“Can I have that back then?” you asked, reaching your hand out for the picture. 

Fred pulled his hand away quickly. “No, we need it to show clients that it really works.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him before rummaging through your bag. “Test it on yourself next time.” You handed the twins the rest of the sweets they had sent you. Two more of the hair changing sweet and five of one kind that you were too afraid to test out without knowing what it was. “Start with that one there. I’d like to see what it’s for.” 

The twins’ faces lit up as they looked at the bag you had just handed them. George’s quickly changed to anger as he took in what was in the bag.

“You sent her the Ton-Tongue Toffee!” George yelled angrily at his brother “We decided we wouldn’t test that on her!”

“Oh boy,” Ginny whispered beside you. 

“Ton-Tongue Toffee?” you turned to ask her, the twins continuing their bickering in the background. 

“It’s an Engorgement Charm stuffed inside the toffee,” Ginny explained. “They actually just tested it out on Harry’s cousin. Mum was super mad. She confiscated the rest of their stock.” 

“She knows the counter-charm!” Fred yelled over his brother. “She’d be fine!”

“We agreed we wouldn’t test the more dangerous ones on her!” George retorted. 

“You agreed to that,” Fred said, crossing his arms. “I never said I wouldn’t” 

“Hey!” you yelled, catching their attention. “You tested this on a Muggle?” 

“Yeah,” Fred said, a proud smile on his face. “It worked perfectly too. Swelled his tongue up to about 4 feet long.” 

“Dad fixed him though,” George continued. “After a bit of arguing with Harry’s aunt and uncle.”

“They’re sure to think all magic users are the devil now,” Fred said, laughing. 

“From what I’ve heard, they already thought that,” you said. “You probably just made it worse for Harry now.”

Hermione cut in to say, “I tried to explain that to them, but they wouldn’t listen to me.” 

“You guys are idiots,” you said, causing the twins’ faces to fall just a little bit. “I’m glad you’re figuring out your stock though. Tell me more about it so I can give you more criticism.”  You walked towards the boys and took George’s hand. Looking up at the sky, you noticed the sun was starting to set. “I’ll have to get back to my family soon. The match should be starting in about an hour.” You started to walk with the twins a little bit away from their campsite before turning back to Ginny, Hermione, and Bill. “I’m sure I’ll see you again after the match. Nice meeting you, Bill.” You gave a small wave with your free hand as George pulled you towards the edge of the forest nearby. 

Once you were out of earshot, Bill leaned down to Ginny. “I like her. Fred and George have a deep disdain for most Slytherin’s but apparently not her.” 

“They taught her their evil ways before the other Slytherins could teach her theirs,” Ginny said, laughing. “It suits her well, I think.” 

The three of them watched you and twins for a minute. It looked like you were shoving one of the sweets in Fred’s mouth, and all three of them held their breath, hoping it wasn’t the toffee. Fred’s hair very suddenly burst into the Slytherin green color, and you and George both bent over laughing. Fred brought out his wand, presumably for the counter-spell, but George grabbed it from him before he could cast anything. George pulled his green-haired brother into an awkward hug as you pulled the camera out of your bag. The twins both smiled widely as you took a picture of them, Fred only pretending to be annoyed. 

Fred finally snatched his wand back from George as he pulled away from the hug and quickly changed his hair back to his natural bright orange. He reached his hand out towards your camera, and you handed it to him. He pushed George towards you, and you wrapped your arms tightly around him. You kissed George quickly on the cheek as Fred took a picture. When you pulled away from George, he pretended to be annoyed with the kiss as he wiped his hand on his cheek. As you shoved your camera back in your bag, though, George took advantage of your distraction and kissed you back. 

The rest of the boys came out of the tent, Arthur telling them that they should start heading to the stadium. 

“Fred! George!” Charlie called loudly, causing the three of you to stop your conversation about the Canary Creams the twins had started working on this summer. “It’s time to go!” 

“Hello, Charlie!” you yelled towards the group, waving. “I’ll stop by after the match again. I’ll see you guys then!” You said a quick goodbye to Fred and gave George one last chaste kiss before heading back towards your own campsite to find your dad and uncle. 

-----------------------------

You were woken by a sudden, loud crash outside your tent, causing you to jolt up in bed. At first you assumed the sounds outside were sounds of celebration, caused by the Irish winning the World Cup and celebrating all night long, but the closer you listened, the more you could hear screams and chaos. 

Your father came rushing in from outside. “Get up, we need to go.” 

“What’s going on?” you asked him, rushing to find your boots and pulling them on.

“It’s the Roberts family,” he said, trying to push you out of the tent. “They’re being attacked. Your uncle went to help them. Go find the Weasleys; you’ll be safe with them.” 

Your feet hit the grass outside the tent, and the scent of smoke filled your nostrils. The sky, once alive with green and white, was now grey and filled with the reflecting lights of the fire. Screams could be heard in every direction, while people rushed by in a panic, not knowing what way to go. You could see the Roberts family being suspended in midair a couple hundred yards away. The tents around them were going up in flames as the masked wizards carrying them incited more fear in everyone. 

Your father started to head in the opposite direction that you were about to go, so you turned to him. “Where are you going? If someone is attacking muggles, they might be after you too!” 

“I’m going to help the other Muggleborns and Muggle spouses. I know more about magic than most of them,” he said, stepping towards you again. 

“You have no way to defend yourself against dark magic,” you informed him. 

He grabbed your hand. “I’ll be okay. I promise. Now go, before you can get hurt.” 

He let go of your hand and ran off. You quickly turned around and headed towards the opposite end of the campground where you knew the Weasley’s tents to be. 

The crowd was hard to get through with people pushing you in every direction, and you lost your balance more than once, barely catching yourself each time. If you fell, you were sure to be stepped on by everyone rushing by. 

By the time you got to the opposite end of the campground, your lungs hurt from running, and your hands were covered in dirt from the ground. The group of masked wizards holding the Roberts hostage were slowly making their way over, and you knew you needed to find the Weasleys and escape into the woods to be safe. 

Searching around frantically, your eyes found the Weasley’s tents, and you ran towards them. Not bothering with privacy, you rushed into the larger of the two. 

“Hello?” you called out, looking around the apartment-like interior, but you heard no response and saw no sign of movement. Taking that to mean they had already left, you rushed over to the girls tent to make sure they were out too.

“Ginny? Hermione?” you shouted as you ran. Looking in the tent, it seemed to be empty too. 

With no one in sight, your best option was to head to the woods, and hope they all made it there safe. Your eyes still searched frantically over the moving crowd as you hurried towards the trees. 

“George! Fred!” you called, hoping to see any sign of bright red hair. You could feel your heart beating frantically in your chest. Your lungs felt like they could collapse at any moment. “Anyone!” Your voice was showing the first signs of becoming hoarse as your breath got caught in your throat as you yelled. 

“They headed towards the trees!” a familiar voice called from behind. You whipped your head around so fast you weren’t sure how you didn’t fall over. Standing a few feet away was Bill, wand at the ready, a mixed look of fear and anger on his face. 

“All of them except you?” you asked, rushing towards him. 

“Dad, Percy, and Charlie went to help stop this madness,” Bill informed you. “I heard you calling, so I came back to help. I should go join them now. The twins took the younger ones into the woods to hide. You’ll be safe if you go there too. Keep your wand ready, just in case.” 

You suddenly searched frantically for your wand, feeling stupid for not having it out before now. You found it tucked in a special pocket in your boot. “Thanks for the advice.” 

“A boot pocket?” Bill said, sounding impressed. “I might need to get me one of those.” 

“Comes in handy in situations like this,” you told him. You squeezed the end of your wand in your hand, the memory of the first day you got it suddenly rushing into your mind. It was the day you had met Fred and George. You suddenly looked from Bill to the trees, thinking about the rest of the Weasleys in the woods. “I have to go. Thanks for helping.” 

You hurried off without waiting for him to say anything, too focused now on finding other people you knew. People that you needed to make sure were safe more than you needed yourself to be safe. Hopefully Fred and George were looking after the others, but four bodies is a lot to keep track of. With you there, the three of you could do a better job at it. 

Reaching the treeline, you stopped for just a moment to look back at the chaos in the campsite. The group of masked wizards seemed to have come to a halt from being surrounded by Ministry workers. The shouts of all the people running around you, also looking for loved ones, were too loud to make out any conversation from the large group. 

“Ron? Ginny?,” you shouted into the woods, looking for a clear path to run down. You quickly decided that a path would be impossible to find in this situation, and started stepping over bushes and sticks before breaking out into a jog.

Your eyes scanned the trees around you, hoping to find a familiar face or six. The more you searched to no avail, the more it hurt to breath again. Your breath felt ragged in your throat, whether from the running or the yelling of names, you weren’t sure.

You weren’t paying too much attention to where you were going, besides making sure you didn’t trip over anything. Turning around a rather large tree, you jumped over the roots, but your body came to a very sudden halt when you hit something full force. You fell to the ground, all the breath in your body leaving you. 

“Jesus Christ,” you breathed out as you lay on the ground. 

“Are you alright!?” a familiar voice asked as they reached down to help you up. 

“George!” you shouted, pulling him down to you instead, hugging him. “Did I just run into you?”

“You did,” he told you, pulling back to look you in the eye, “but that doesn’t matter. I know you’re safe now.”

You looked behind him to see Fred and Ginny “Where are Harry, Ron, and Hermione?”

“We don’t know,” Fred said. “They got separated in the rush.”

“But Hermione knows enough to be able to protect all of them,” George added quickly when he saw the panic on your face. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t worry about me, worry abo--” you started, but were cut off by a sudden flash of green appearing in the sky. 

The light lit up the entire woods, and through the trees you could make out the shape of a giant skull. People all around you began to scream again, scattering to run as far away from the light as possible. It was then that you saw the snake coming out of the skull’s mouth. 

“A Dark Mark,” you whispered, clinging onto George’s shirt even tighter. Your body seemed to tense up at the words you spoke, but you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from the skull. 

“Hey, look at me,” George said, but your eyes remained on the sky. He placed his hand on your cheek and softly turned your face to look at him. “Don’t look at that. Just look at me, and everything will be alright. 

George’s brown eyes scanned your face quickly. You knew he was waiting for you to give any more indication about what you were feeling. The tears behind your eyes suddenly ran down your face. You quickly pulled yourself into George, hiding your face in his shoulder. 

You felt a hand gently pat your shoulder, and you looked up to see Ginny looking down at you. 

“It’ll be alright,” she said softly. You knew she didn’t know too much about your situation, or even exactly what the Mark meant, but you greatly appreciated her trying to comfort you. 

“You and your dad are welcome to stay in our tent for the rest of the night,” Fred offered. “I’m sure dad won’t mind.” 

Finally backing away from George just a little, you looked at his face again. You could tell that he was trying not to cry himself, his feelings for you overtaking him right now. You leaned in and softly kissed both of his cheeks.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him. You turned to the other two. “Thank you so much.” 

“Let’s go see if the campsite is safe now,” George said, standing up. He held out a hand to help you up. You gladly accepted it. 

The walk back was stressful; you were worried that you might run into one of those masked wizards. When you reached the treeline and stepped out into the campground, you could tell that that group was gone, but another group of frightened-looking witches and wizards was beginning to form. They were looking for answers about what had just happened, but having no answers for them, you squeezed through them and made your way back to the Weasley’s tents. 

Your father had shown up looking for you just a few minutes after you had arrived. He was fine, just a little shaken from seeing the Dark Mark again after so many years. He chose to stay with your uncle in their tent, and you promised you’d meet up with them again first thing in the morning. 

The rest of the night was restless, and the hour or so of sleep you ended up getting did little help to make you feel better. The next two weeks before the start of the school year would be hard to get through, knowing that You-Know-Who supporters were becoming active again. 

You said your goodbyes to the Weasleys in the dim light of the morning, telling Fred and George that you would be waiting for them on Platform 9 ¾ in two weeks. 

“You better have those Canary Creams ready for testing by then,” you said, trying to lighten the mood of the day. 

“You offering to be the guinea pig?” Fred asked with a smile. 

“No,” you said, “but I have a few people in mind. We need some form of entertainment on the train.” 

The conversation lulled for a second, and George took the opportunity to grab your hand. 

“Be safe, okay?” he said. 

“You know I never am,” you said, trying to continue to joke. George looked at you with his eyebrows slightly raised, and his eyes pleading with you. “Okay, okay. I promise I’ll be safe. It’s only two weeks.” 

“I’ll see you then,” he said, pulling you into a hug. He whispered softly so only you could hear, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, squeezing him tightly. 

You walked back to your tent slowly, taking in the destruction of the campground and watching the other families pack up. You didn’t know why, but you had a strange feeling in your stomach the whole walk; a feeling that usually only happened when you were absolutely furiously angry at something. You thought you were more afraid from last night than angry, but you couldn’t get the whirl in your stomach to go away. 

The sun was fully peaking over the horizon by the time you made it to your campsite, your uncle having just finished packing everything up. A day that was supposed to be a joyous occasion had turned into the most disastrous event you had ever witnessed. You hoped that the coming school year would bring more joy than anything else.

[hisunshiine]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭

♡ 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬

♡ 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴

♡ 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

♡ 𝘸𝘤: 3343

an: commissioned story

Walking up the stairs to your best friends’ apartment, you hang your cape over your shoulder, defeated. Waiting patiently as Namjoon unlocked the front door, Jungkook shuffled side to side, just as upset as you, the evidence written across his face. His signature bunny smile, nowhere to be found, was replaced with a pout fixed on his face as he followed you into the apartment while Namjoon struggled to get the key back out of the golden deadbolt lock.

The sound of shoes being slipped off filled the silence along with jangling keys and the low murmur of curses followed by a soft exclamation of joy as Namjoon shut the door.

“I’m sorry babe. I didn’t know  it was cancelled. I didn’t check my email before we left...”

You tossed your purple cape over the couch and got comfy in your favorite spot.  Tucked into the left corner of the couch, your sheer pantyhose legs crossed, you dropped your head onto the back rest of the couch and attempted to look at Namjoon still in the entryway. Dressed up as Thor, his arms flexed nicely as you watched him put his shoes on the rack by the door, grown out blond hair falling in his face.

“Joonie, it’s fine. I don’t blame you. I’m just sad we didn’t get to show off our hard work.” You gesture at your outfit, Raven from Teen Titans, and shrugged. Left in just the black long sleeved leotard and hosiery, you sigh. 

“Poor Kookie here has been doing pushups and crunches for the past two weeks so that he could pull off a gladiator from 300.”  You turned your gaze to Jungkook, perched on the barstool next to the kitchen counter, elbow braced on the table to hold his head up as he sulked. “Nice job by the way, you got a lot of looks when we were walking up to the convention center.”

He laughed, shameless as always when showing off his beautifully built frame.

“Hey, I think the woman with the baby stroller really enjoyed the view.”

“I would hope so, she damn near tripped over her own child breaking her neck to stare.”

You lean up as Namjoon makes his way over to the couch, your eyes following the way his well-built body moves in the ludicrously tight Thor outfit. 

“What can we do to make it up to you? We rarely get a day off like this, all together.”

He was right. Adulting had made the time spent with your best friends almost nonexistent. Attempts to hang out, all three of you, rarely went off without a hitch; with Namjoon receiving calls from the office about accounts in progress, or Jungkook having to go in to work with the local sports team as their trainer during both on and off seasons, and you working your 9 to 5. It was stressful.

“Honestly, just spending time with you guys is all I need.” 

Namjoon lifted your legs to sit next to you, placing them in his lap as Jungkook jumped up and grabbed a dusty, small box off the living room bookshelf. An old deck of Uno cards that you all used to stay up late and play in college is tossed onto the coffee table while Jungkook’s feet carried him to the kitchen, where he grabbed a few beers.

“For old time’s sake?”

——————

Uno had turned into Strip Uno quickly, once you all were a few beers deep. The opaque green glass bottles were set off to the side of the coffee table as the three of you sat around, tipsy and half naked, laughing at each other. 

Jungkook had been the first one to lose an article of clothing, his Leonidas style crown tossed on the other side of the couch with Namjoon’s discarded cape. Namjoon followed suit with his costume shirt being next to disappear from his body. The males’ losing streak ended when you were the unlucky one to lose a large item, your black leotard. It wasn’t long before Jungkook, who had already been shirtless, had lost his roman gladiator skort, and Namjoon’s pants made it onto the clothing pile, leaving the three of you sitting comfortably in half-nakedness.

“God, I can’t believe we used to really trade girls back and forth, hyung.” Jungkook was laughing as he remembered some of their crazier antics, which you knew all about as their best friend. You’d even walked into some compromising situations once or twice, and saw exactly what each of them was working with below the belt.

“I can, man, we were insatiable. Fuck, we still are Kook, don’t act like just because we’re working now crazy shit still doesn’t happen.”

Namjoon’s eyes were low, the alcohol in his system making him feel nice.

“You’re right,” Jungkook giggled, face red from intoxication, “just way less often. It’s been what? 4 months or so? We need to throw a party or something.”

“You guys are just as bad as you were in college.” You say, leaning back into the couch behind you. None of you had moved from the floor where you had sat around the table to play Uno.

“Oh, right. I forgot that you were our ‘goody two shoes’ girl. Never did anything wrong...” Namjoon tried to roll his eyes, but the half-moon shape barely showed the whites of his eyes.

“That’s not true… I was just way better at being discreet. It wasn’t the campus’ business who I let between my legs.” 

“We played ‘never have I ever’ so many times, though… You never did anything bad.” Jungkook pouted at you, thinking you were lying to him. In reality, you lied back then. It wasn’t anyone’s business and you weren’t going to expose others’ sex lives just for some drinking game.

“I did, I just didn’t put a finger down,” you laughed. “I still drank what I was supposed to, I just didn’t want to be questioned about my threesomes and shit.”

Namjoon couldn’t believe what he heard. You, his precious best female friend, had a threesome before. The air in the room shifts, the tension palpable in the room.

“No, not my YN. You’re the good one.” Namjoon stated jokingly, though you could sense he was still serious.

“I need the details, YN.” Jungkook stared at you, eyes steady as he pinned you with his gaze.

His look is full of desire, and you can see him move ever so slightly as if he was uncomfortable. Jungkook’s hand moves to cover his hardening cock, but not before you can see that it was exactly what was making him so uncomfortable in his boxer briefs. 

“It was nothing wild, Koo. We were drunk, it was college, one of them, the girl, said that getting eaten out feels better by a woman, the other said no way and said he was the best ever to do it, so I volunteered to test out their theory and draw an end to the pissing contest.” 

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered how much fun it was. The memory turned you on slightly; you can feel your arousal drip onto your thong.

“So who was better?”

“She was, definitely.”

Namjoon shakes his head and Jungkook leans back, incredulous. Both had leaned in towards you as you told the short story, falling on every word that you said.

“Pfft! No way, I could totally out-do the chick.”

“Same. He didn’t know what he was doing, clearly.”

You shifted your body to get more comfortable, sitting with your knees bent and spread open in an L shape as you leaned back against the seat of the couch. You may have been curvy, but you were comfortable around Jungkook and Namjoon as they had known you for so long and seen you in various stages of undress, sobriety, and moods.

“I mean, we can always test it out.” You gesture your arm out at the 2 of them, resting your forearm on the knee that is bent up to the sky.

It’s silent, deadly, as they stare at you. Jungkook’s eyes roam your body that is on display for him, instinctively licking his lips. Namjoon, who was still leaned towards you, gives a smirk that has you… excited.

“Baby, you couldn’t handle me.”

“Awe, Joonie, it’s cute that you think so.”

“I’d be better at it anyways.” Jungkook chimed in. That cocky confidence oozing over him as he mimics your pose, though leaning back on his palm, arm extended to share part of his weight.

“Mmm.. I don’t know Kookie, I think Namjoon has been at it a little longer than you, plus, no offense, but he has fuller lips...” You turn away from Jungkook’s pout toward Namjoon, who’s still got that damn smirk on his face.

He moved forward, practically stalking on his hands and knees as he brings himself into your personal space. You watch the way his chest and arms flex, mouth practically drooling at the sight.

“You've been sizing me up, baby?” His voice is low, deeper as he let his hunger for you show. His hand slides along your hip, fingers curling gently around you. “You think about how good it would feel, my tongue between your legs?”

He’s surprised that you didn’t pull away. When you reached up and grabbed a handful of his blond locks and tugged, you reveled in the low groan he let out, eyes fixated on his quivering Adam’s apple as the sinful sound reverberated throughout the apartment.

“Damn—” your eyes snapped to Jungkook, whose pupils had dilated as he watched the interaction between you and his hyung. His mouth hung open; he hadn’t realized he had verbalized his thoughts.

“Everything okay, bun?” you asked, using Jungkook’s pet name that you loved to use when teasing him.

He cleared his throat, his hand stroking gently at his clothed cock, trying to ease the ache.

“Yeah—please, continue.”

You realized he was addressing Namjoon when you felt his parted lips skim across your neck, soft and wet as his tongue joined. Latching on gently, you rolled your head back allowing him more access as you yourself were now the one affected, moaning breathily as his solid frame hovered over you, pressing you back into the couch. You tightened your grip on his hair, and he bit your neck a little harder in response. 

Eyes fluttered closed, you felt a second set of hands on you, palms sliding along the pantyhose that still covered your legs. 

“I know you’ve thought about this...” Jungkook’s lips moved along your tummy as he talked, small kisses along the waistband of your hosiery. “Can practically feel how badly you want this.” 

His fingers dipped into your band and began to tug them down, freeing your thighs from their confines. You arched your back, unable to not react as he mouthed loudly at your clothed core, his tongue flicking against the cotton to trace the outline of your needy clit as he groaned with the inhale of your arousal.

Namjoon on the other hand was quieter, mouth busy sucking light bruises to your skin as his large hands palmed your ample breasts. As he kissed down your neck and collar bone, he pulled one mound from your bra, laving his tongue around your aroused nipple to pull sounds out of you. 

So enthralled in the feel of Namjoon, you don’t notice that Jungkook has you stripped bare, not until he’s nudged your thighs apart and settled himself between, a trail of wet kisses along your inner thigh almost unnoticed due to the amount of pleasure you’re feeling—that is until his lips latched onto your clit, a combined sucking motion with a flicking tongue, made your free hand dive into his mess of dark strands, directing his ministrations.

“Fuck, Jungkook, d-don’t stop.”

Namjoon moved to be behind you, replacing the couch as your backing as Jungkook circled his arms around your thighs and pulled you down closer to his feasting mouth. Namjoon began to kiss at your neck, hands resumed their massaging of your chest, nipples rolling between his fingers as you held Jungkook’s head so you could roll your hips, fucking yourself on his tongue. 

Feeling it build, the delightful coiling in your abdomen snaps when Jungkook enters you with a thrust of his two fingers and strokes roughly along your walls, brushing the rough patch of bundled nerves. You cry out, head thrown back onto Namjoon’s shoulder as you buck, hips rolling as you ride out your high on Jungkook’s face.

“Definitely think that I was better than that girl, huh, angel?”

You nod, never one to lie about how good or bad someone is sexually. 

“You let me have the control to fuck your face, it was amazing.” You tell him, your chest rapidly moving as you attempted to regulate your breathing.

“My turn.”

You feel more than see Namjoon switch places with Jungkook, maneuvering your body to a more comfortable position. Jungkook’s cock, hard and erect, is now pressed between your back and his abs when you leaned back onto him.

“Oh, he left you such a mess, baby.” Namjoon licks a stripe along your swollen clit, lapping at the juices. You’re still sensitive, but he pushed your thighs apart so his large hands could hold you in place as he slowly teased at your folds until you felt yourself leaning into it, wanting more instead of squirming away. 

“Right there Joonie—shit, that feels—oh!” 

Namjoon’s thumb rubbed wet circles on your swollen nub as his tongue explored every inch of you, teasing and tasting. Jungkook held you tight in his embrace, preventing you from running now that you could feel your second orgasm building. 

To make your judgement fair, Jungkook’s lips and hands touched your body where he could reach, knowing that Namjoon’s ministrations had added to your heightened senses when it had been him gracing the spot between your thighs. 

Namjoon’s nose pressed against your clit as he open-mouth kissed your heat, devouring as much as he could of your release before you replaced what he had cleaned up. You could feel the growing orgasm spreading through your veins, the thrum of your beating heart loud in your ears until Namjoon inserted his fingers. The squelching sound as your walls sucked his first two fingers into you caused both men to groan, the vibrations of the one feasting leading you to arch your back into Jungkook’s chest. Toes curling, your mouth is open as you try and catch your breath, but Namjoon did the same move as Jungkook and you squirmed as it consumed you, a crackling of electricity taking over your senses.

Sitting up, Namjoon grinned over your shoulder, knowing that the move his younger roommate taught him all those years ago never fails.

“I would say that makes it 1 for Jungkook, 1 for Namjoon, as we now hold the title ‘better than the girl who rocked your world’, right JK? Our good girl is finally enjoying being bad.”

Namjoon’s chin and lips were slicked with your cum, and you nodded, still a little fucked out as you came down.

“Damn, I wonder what prize we should get?”

Lifting an eyebrow, you sat up off Jungkook's chest, propelling yourself forward until you were on your hands and knees, eye level with Namjoon’s obvious hard-on. Licking your lips, his eyes followed the movement. He watched your every move as you leaned down, opened your mouth slowly, and lowered your tongue to the fabric covering his erection. You hear Jungkook inhale at the view you provide, sopping cunt on display.

“Mmph.. shit, baby.” Namjoon’s cock twitches as your mouth, hot and wet, teases his most sensitive area, and when he lifts his hips slightly, chasing as you pull away, you decide to show him exactly how much you enjoy being bad.

Your hands have pulled his boxer briefs down and the bulbous tip has entered your mouth before he was able to see the glint in your eye. Taking him into your mouth fully, he let out a sound you never thought you’d hear from him, a loud moan higher than his usual tone and accompanied with movement from his hips as he thrust up. Spit from your mouth dripped down his shaft as you pulled back. 

You heard Jungkook mutter a curse as your hips swayed seductively in his face, and you removed your lips off of Namjoon with a wet pop sound, replacing your mouth with your hand as you stroked his length. Turning your head to peek over your shoulder, you follow Jungkook’s gaze, smirking.

“Hey Bun, you gonna stare at it all night, or are you going to fill me up?”

You giggled as he scrambled up onto his knees, his hands tugging at his underwear to free himself from the restraining fabric. You grasp Namjoon’s thighs before you lower yourself again, the thrust of Jungkook entering you from behind pushing you farther onto Namjoon’s cock. The moan vibrates along his shaft, and Namjoon’s toes curl as you swallow around him, tongue tracing the thick vein.

“Fuck, you’re so wet...” Jungkook’s voice, melodious as he vocalizes with each thrust, causes you to clench involuntarily as he splits you. The burn from the stretch feels good, so good, and you push back onto him, fucking yourself as his hands hold onto your curves. 

“Her mouth… Jungkook, her mouth is—” you hollow your cheeks as you vacillate up and down, and Namjoon can no longer form words. His hands cup your face as he watches you worship him, oblivious to the words of praise Jungkook is saying.

“YN, fuck baby, your pussy is squeezing me so tight… You take my cock so well, better than I dreamed of.”

The spit that had gathered in your mouth dripped down and as you massaged Namjoon’s balls, the spit added to his pleasure. You felt them constrict in your hands, his cock twitching as your first warning.

“Baby, I—” you nod, knowing what he wants to say, and the action made him squeeze his whiskey colored eyes shut before he came, ropes of hot cum filling your mouth. Once he opened his eyes again, you made eye contact, pulling off of him and opening your mouth so Namjoon could see the translucent coating on your tongue before you swallowed it. 

“Shit.” 

His dilated pupils watched as you continued to use Jungkook to massage your g-spot, impaling yourself on him while you used a free hand to massage at your clit. Your third orgasm was a little harder to come by, not without a little help, so you told Jungkook what you needed.

“Choke me.”

You couldn’t see the way his doe eyes grew unimaginably wider as he maneuvered his right hand to grip your throat and apply just the right amount of pressure, allowing you to ascend towards climax. You fucked him harder, ass slapping against his thighs harshly.  He released your throat, both hands firmly grasping your hips. A slap to your ass from Jungkook’s hand spurred your words.

“Cum in me Kookie, fill me like Joon did—”

“Ah, fuck, I’m cumm—”

When your walls fluttered, Jungkook groaned and immersed himself as deep into your dripping core as he could so he could fill you as you gushed your arousal around him, juices mingling as you collapsed onto the carpet, Jungkook’s softening dick slipping from inside you as he moved to lay next to you.

Panting, you rolled onto your back, head on Namjoon’s thigh as you waited for your breathing to settle. Jungkook was already smiling and looking none the worse for wear, physically. He moved to lay his head on your tummy, an arm thrown over your body while Namjoon’s hand smoothed the hair away from your face.

“I think that’s… 2 for me,” you say, “and 1 for each of you.” 

Both men look at you in awe as you finish speaking, “...so what were you saying earlier about me being your ‘good girl’?”

♡ 

[waitimcomingtoo]

Hi I’m back!💗 I was wondering (if it’s not too big of a hassle) if you could do a Plank All Over Me but they do a relationship test. Like the one Meghan Trainor and her husband did for buzzfeed? Love you tons!-✨

Plank All Over Me - Couples Tag Edition

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

AN: you do NOT have to have read the others to understand this. Enjoy :)

Masterlist

Plank All Over Me 1 & Yoga Edition

“Hi, I’m Tom Holland.” Tom smiled widely at the camera.

“And I’m actually excited to be in this video.” You nodded in approval now that you and Tom were doing a normal video that didn’t require either of you to get into painful positions.

“You never say your name when we do these. You always say something else.” Tom looked at you as he realized the pattern with the intros of the videos you did together. “This is my girlfriend Y/n L/n by the way, everyone. Please pardon her manners.” He cracked a smile. 

“Yeah, but I do it on purpose. Its like my thing for these kinds of videos.” You explained yourself to Tom.

“Oh.” He deadpanned, pretending not to care about your explanation. You laughed at his serious expression.

“I can’t believe this video turned into our breakup.” You said to the camera and he laughed beside you.

“Can we both cry so they have something for the thumbnail?” He suggested to the camera crew.

“Or, better idea, hear me out.” You looked between Tom and the camera. “We start the video.”

“That’s a great idea.” Tom pulled your chair closer to his and slung an arm around you. “I’m Tom, this is Y/n, and we’re doing the Buzzfeed Couples Tag.”

“So first we have to check off what we know about each other.” You said as you scanned the list of questions while Tom kissed the side of your head. “Do you want to just do a back and forth?”

“Sure. I’ll go first.” Tom pulled the completed closer to himself. “When’s my birthday?”

“June 1st 1862.” You answered confidently.

“Perfect.” Tom player along. “Your turn.”

“My age?” You read off the screen.

“Trick question, you’re timeless.” Tom smiled and you gushed. “Just kidding guys, shes 53.” He said to the camera.

“I’m just not but okay.” You muttered.

“What’s my zodiac sign?” Tom read.

“Little bitch?” You asked.

“You got it.” Tom nodded. You laughed and kissed his cheek.

“What’s my favorite movie?” You asked.

“That’s easy. It’s a tie between Spiderman: Homecoming, Spiderman: Far From Home and Spies in Disguise, out this Christmas.” Tom winked at the camera after he listed off his own films.

“You were close.” You pointed at him. “It’s actually a tie between Deadpool, Definitely Maybe, and The Proposal.”

“But…” Tom faltered. “But those are all Ryan Reynolds movie.”

“Yea, but that’s just because I wish he was my boyfriend instead of you.” You said with fake seriousness.

“Oh, okay.” Tom nodded as he went along with your joke. “It’s funny though, I haven’t seen any videos of you planking over Ryan Reynolds so…” ,he clicked his tongue.

“Thats because Ryan and I like to keep those videos private, don’t we baby?” You shot a wink at the camera.

“Okay, okay. That’s enough before I actually get mad.” Tom laughed. “And you have never seen Definitely Maybe.”

“Yes I have.” You defended. “That’s the one where they’re British and the little boy from Nanny McPhee plays the drum.”

“That’s Love Actually, and you gave the worst possible description of it, so congratulations.” Tom commemorated you as you laughed.

“We just got so off topic. Who even asked the last question?” You wondered.

“I’ll go.” He looked at the computer for the next question. “What’s my coffee order?”

“Here we go.” You roll your eyes at the ceiling. “Tom doesn’t drink coffee. He drinks sugar with a few spoonfuls of tea in it.”

“Yes, I do.” Tom confirmed. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There’s gonna be something wrong with that when all your teeth fall out. Do you want to be bald and have no teeth? Is that what you want?” You pretended to heckle him.

“That’s weird, I don’t see that question on the computer.” Tom said as he squinted at the computer, pretending to inspect the quiz.

“That’s because I made it up.” You said.

“That’s because I made it up.” Tom mimicked. Your eyes went wide and he bent over laughing. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean that.”

“The title of this video is gonna be Couples Tag leads to a break up?” You did an over exaggerated shrug. “With pictures!”

“And then “shocking!” in parenthesis.” Tom added on, poking fun at the youtube titles you were so used to seeing.

“Emotional!” You put your hand over your heart.

“Can we keep going?” Tom asked through his laughter.

“Yes, sorry.” You laughed and looked at the computer. Oh now it’s generic questions. Does your significant other have any bad habits?”

“No.” Tom said after thinking for a moment. “I’m perfect.”

“Oh, I know. His bad habit is that when he gets scared, he goes like this,” you pull your arm back and make a fist, “as if he’s about to deck someone.”

“That’s just my flight or fight response, darling. I won’t apologize for it.” Tom quipped.

“But you always choose fight!” You laugh. “Do you know how many times I’ve seen him about to punch a clump of hair?” You said to the camera.

“It looks like a spider! Your hair is all over the damn flat and it looks like a spider.” Tom brought up a common argument you two had.

“Okay, but why are you trying to punch a spider?” You defended.

“That’s an excellent question, my love, that I do not know the answer to.” Tom said with a smile and you double over laughing at the stupid argument. “Can you imagine walking into our home and seeing me about to punch a spider?” He chokes out through his laughter.

“Wait,” you wipe your eyes and try to compose yourself before giggling again, “remember that one time with the wind-“

“Don’t mention the wind chimes!” He cuts you off, which makes you laugh harder. “We swore to never speak of that day.”

“You swore.” You pointed out. “I just kept apologizing to the man.”

“Next question.” Tom said quickly. “When and where did we meet?”

“We met on the set of BBC Radio 1, in the studio when we filmed the Plank All Over Me challenge last year.” You recalled with a fond smile.

“Awww. I remember that.” Tom smiled at the memory and leaned over to kiss you. “Look at us now.”

“I know. You’re bald and I’m cheating on you with Ryan Reynolds.” You said with a dreamy expression.

“What was that?” Tom pretended not to hear you.

“I said where was our first date?” You read the next question.

“Oh, we went to that ice cream shop in Soho and got milkshakes.” Tom remembered the first time you’d gone out together.

“Tom told me he wanted to take me out for a drink but didn’t want me to think he was trying to get me drunk, so he took me out for milkshakes.” You recalled to the camera with a fond smile. “I thought that was so cute when you told me.”

“I’m glad you thought me being a massive nerd was cute.” Tom chuckled and you kissed his cheek repeatedly.

“It worked didn’t it? You got me.” You cooed.

“That’s right. I got you.” He smiled proudly and kissed you again, pulling you close. You rested your head on Toms shoulder for the remainder of the video.

“Where and when was our first kiss?” He asked.

“Our first kiss was in your bedroom after I beat you in a game of Wii tennis.” You said proudly.

“That’s right.” He grinned. “The first of many.”

“Just kidding. We’ve been together ten months and have not kissed since that day.” You deadpanned to the camera.

“We kissed twice in this video alone.” Tom pointed out.

“Sounds false.” You shrugged and felt his shoulders move under your head as he laughed.

“Anyway, Y/n was going crazy over winning and rubbing it in my face and I just grabbed her and kissed her.” Tom reminisced about the moment you had first kissed.

“I still don’t know if he actually wanted to kiss me or he just wanted to shut me up.” You joked.

“I don’t know that either darling.” Tom chuckled.

“Thank God.” You laughed. “Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

“I did, about four weeks in.” Tom nodded as he did the math in his head. “But I knew I loved you long before that.”

“Aw.” You beamed. “I still haven’t said it.” You deadpanned to the camera.

“She’s just kidding.” Tom assured the camera. You shook your head and mouthed “no.” Tom caught your reaction and pretended to tear up.

“I’m kidding.” You giggled and pulled him into a hug. “I love you.”

“Okay.” Tom let out a pretend breath of relief. “I was worried for a minute there.”

“Aw, no.” You bit your tongue between your teeth. “What’s the next question?”

“What’s my shoe size?” He asked.

“Huge. What’s my favorite song lyric?” You continued.

“So we’re gonna ignore that last answer?” Tom looked at the camera in fear. “Okay. You love the lyrics “so why don’t we go somewhere only we know?” and they always make you cry.”

“Do you remember why I love that song?” You asked him. “I told you on our first date.”

“Because it makes you think of Bridge to Terabithia.” He knew the answer immediately.

“Yes.” You smiled warmly at the thought of your favorite childhood movie. “Nothing crushes us.” You quoted.

“I haven’t seen that in so long.” Tom realized. “Can we watch it when we get home?”

“Of course we can. I’m always down to see Josh Hutcherson.” You wiggled your eyebrows. “Ask your next question.”

“Do you think Josh Hutcherson is better than me?” Tom pretended to read the question off the screen.

“Well, he survived the Hunger Games with nothing but baking skills and you died when some dude snapped his fingers, so I think the question answers itself.” You said.

“It wasn’t some dude, it was a titan.” Tom defended. “And Peeta was lying on the floor for half the Games. I actually fought.”

“Look at the material.” You shrugged.

“I can’t stand you. Ask your question.” Tom laughed.

“What did I wear on our first date?” You read. “Who remembers that?” You asked the camera.

“You had on a dark red turtleneck and a little black skirt.” Tom recalled and you looked impressed. “Your hair was half up half down and curled and you had a little black ribbon in it.” He smiled.

“I guess Tom remembers that.” You said with an approving nod.

“How could I forget? You were the prettiest girl in that ice cream shop.” He complimented you.

“I was also the only girl who wasn’t 7.” You pointed out.

“Wait, I think that was our last question.” Tom realized as he tried to scroll down but couldn’t anymore. “I guess that’s it. Thanks for watching our Couples Tag with Buzzfeed.” Tom smiled at the camera.

“Can we go home and watch Bridge to Terabithia now?” You asked as you rubbed his arm.

“Yes, lets go home.” He grinned.

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @foreverxholland @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @ho-ho-holland @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @m19friend @justcallmehitgirl @iamanerdot @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines

[seafleece]

caduceus is not a particularly strong person.

that’s fine, it’s not his job, they’ve got yasha for that, yasha and jester and herself and even fjord, a little, now she and his new mom are getting him in something resembling shape.

caduceus is not very strong, but he carries fjord below decks anyway.

fuck, she’s never seen him like this.

there was a hint of it, maybe, before— his lip did this funny downward curl when he was talking to colton and she thought oh, this must be the one he was talking about.

now, though, his eyebrows are so low over his eyes she can barely see them. it feels weird, to compare caduceus to a horse, but, like, that’s what she keeps thinking of looking at him, like when their horses were angry and their ears went flat back against their heads.

she knows he’s tired, too, but he picks fjord up— not like he weighs nothing, no, like he’s the heaviest thing in the world— and just staggers under him down to the dining room, not letting beau help at all.

he lays fjord out on the table and it rattles the whole frame of it. everyone crowds in at the top of the stairs for a moment until beau waves, dazed, and they come down to circle around him.

caduceus takes a second, breathes like a bellows, like that big fucking bull, and then leans over fjord, careful as anything.

jester presses up against her side, tail sliding cold and slick against her lower back. “i healed orly,” she whispers, mouth and eyes loose and wet with the same damp disbelief. “are you okay?”

“no,” she says back, and doesn’t look down at jester. jester leans against her a little harder until she wraps an arm around her shoulders. “but caduceus is worse.”

and he is, bent over fjord so close their foreheads are almost touching. he keeps moving hair away from fjord’s face, keeps darting his eyes from fjord’s closed ones to the awful color of the burst blood under the skin of his temple from when he’d fallen, to the even awful-er tear in him, from the bottom of his collarbone and down, through ribs, through, well. everything underneath ribs.

he’s not bleeding too much anymore, but it still soaks the table under him.

probably won’t be eating in here again for awhile, she thinks, and kicks herself for it in her mind’s eye.

“jester,” caduceus finally says, and sweet ioun, he sounds awful, all raspy and wheezing. like a broken person, like—

like someone who’d just carried fjord down a flight of stairs even though his just-revived sister could bend him like a reed the second she got the chance.

“diamond.”

“oh! oh, yeah—“ and jester peels away from her, for a moment, starts rooting through her bag.

she’s bloody, too, beau takes the second to notice— slick and bloody almost up to her elbows, probably from orly. they haven’t looked this bad since they had to fight yasha, too, she thinks.

she risks a glance over at yasha, in that moment, while jester’s digging around for the diamonds, and there’s a look on her face.

they’re all a little frenzied-looking, right now, afraid and staticky, all over, having to just watch caduceus do this with his lips curled into a scowl like they’ve never seen and his ears flat against the sides of his head. yasha, though, she looks terrified, terrified like when she’d stabbed right through beau and into the stone floor of the chantry, terrified like when she’d gone to heal beau and beau had flinched and she’d flinched back.

guilt, she thinks, and she hates that she recognizes it on yasha.

yasha meets her gaze after a moment, eyes swallowed up in that cavernous sort of dread, and then she blinks. later, beau thinks, and it passes between them like one of caleb’s messages before jester’s bloody hands re-emerge from the haversack and she looks away.

jester looks between the two diamonds clutched in her fists for a moment before handing the larger one up to caduceus.

caduceus has always been dangerously polite. she doesn’t remember when caduceus stopped calling caleb mister caleb, mostly because she doesn’t even know if he did.

anyway, he doesn’t say thank you.

she doesn’t think jester takes it too hard.

finally, caduceus looks up at all of them. trying to seem like he’s regained his composure, she thinks, but his hands are still shaking where he’s holding the diamond to fjord’s chest.

“this will take a while,” he says. “you all should get some rest.”

—

she waits in the doorway of her and jester’s room until yasha comes by.

“hey.”

“oh,” yasha says, looking her over. “beau. yes.”

“wanna come in? jester’s washing up right now.”

“yes.”

they sit a little ways apart on the edge of the bed. it’s pretty big, as beds she’s shared with jester go, bigger than most inns, almost as big as their shoved-together beds in the xhorhaus.

they always crowd together, anyway, she thinks. yasha could probably even fit on it, with both her and jester, if they asked her to stay with them.

“so,” she says, instead. “what’s wrong?”

yasha laughs a little. “you mean, apart from the very big wrong thing?”

“yeah.” she’s deflecting. beau lets her.

“ah.” her fingers dig rivets into the sheets. “i had a dream.”

this sets her on edge. “yeah? like you used to?”

“yes.”

“you don’t think it, uh, had anything to do with—“

“no.”

“oh. okay, uh—“ she doesn’t know how to do this. jester just tells her if she has a funny dream, just rolls on top of her so she can look right in beau’s face, so they’re sharing breath. “what happened?”

“i flew.”

and, fuckin’. that’s new.

“shit, really?”

“yes. i think— i think that’s what i was about to do, before.”

“before.”

yasha looks at her, then, and beau can see she’s crying. silent tears track down her face, bleed somewhere in her lap. “i wasn’t sure i would ever be able to, after that.”

“do you, uh, do you think you could again? or was it just a dream thing?”

“i don’t know,” yasha whispers, and looks away. “i was going to try, when i woke up. but then.”

“oh.”

“i should have,” she says, and the furrows yasha’s dug into the bedsheets deepen, almost to tears. “i could have helped.”

“no, hey, you couldn’t have known—“ she reaches out to put one hand over yasha’s. she doesn’t flinch, but it feels like she does, somehow.

“i did, though. i saw them. my wings, with feathers. i remember how it felt.”

yasha looks at her again, eyes dark with that same weight. “i was scared, if— if i opened them again, and they didn’t have feathers, still, i don’t know what i would have done.”

“oh,” beau says, because she doesn’t have anything else to say to that.

she thinks of something, though, watching yasha’s hands slowly loosen again. “do you want me to check?”

“what?”

“i just meant, uh—“ and she can feel the cold flush creeping up her neck. “you could close your eyes when you open them, so you don’t have to see right away.”

“oh.”

yasha’s quiet for a long moment.

“never mind, it’s, it was—“

“yes.”

“what?”

she finally looks back into yasha’s face.

“i want you to look.”

“uh— okay, i—“

“give me a moment.”

yasha stands up, then, and beau’s hands drop from above them listlessly atop the sheets. she takes a deep breath, so deep it almost looks like it lifts her up.

“okay.”

she closes her eyes, and then they’re just sort of. there.

“oh, fuck.”

she’s seen yasha’s wings before. has been close enough that they’ve scared her, even, in a fight, once or twice. they’re fuckin’ cool— skeletal and black, they match the name, match the whole vibe yasha has going on.

except, well. maybe yasha doesn’t want to match the name.

beau’s seen bird skeletons, before, in the archives— she knew yasha’s wings weren’t, like, bats or demons or something. they were bare, underneath all the black smoke, just bare. no long spindly pinions.

she’s got feathers now, though. just for the record. big, snowy-looking off-white ones.

she always thought, you know, yasha would have the wings of something cruel, something big and meant for the wicked winds above mountains, meant for folding for a dive at dizzying speed, towards prey.

but beau’s seen bird wings, before. and wouldn’t you know it, her wings look for all the world like a swan’s.

—

“beau?”

she sounds so nervous.

“yeah.”

“um—“

“they’re there.”

—

yasha spends a long time just looking at herself in the mirror on the back of the door, turning around and around, long enough that she’s still there when jester comes in, face crumpled in the way beau knows to mean that she just wants to curl into beau and stay there for a long time, and her eyes go so wide beau wonders if there might be a white to them, after all.

and, well, jester’s braver than her. always has been, always will be.

“i— they’re so pretty, yasha, oh my gods— can i touch them?”

yasha’s even paler than her wings, pale like bone in the sun, like caleb’s fancy paper before he scribbles all over it. she flushes pink, washed-out pink like early spring flowers, like how cad’s hair is getting now he dyes it less, and nods.

down the hall, caduceus is still bent over fjord, working the life back into him. in half an hour or so, he’ll come around groggily and call them all back, and they’ll all crush fjord between them and he’ll wheeze, still covered in blood but alive, thank the gods, alive, but for now jester just runs her hands along the soft slope of yasha’s wings and beau thinks that she has never seen anything this sacred, before.

[zims-left-shoe]

Hi, omg I love your stuff. Could I please request a tallest red x human female? I dont really have a specific idea. Just some fluff or headcannons is fine. Thank you so much. ILY😘

Yeah, of course! There’s a lot of dialogue, but I promise there’s fluff in the end!

Everything had been going so well. Until it didn’t.

A quiet moan of pain slipped out of your mouth as you continued to stay curled in fetal position on some hard surface, most likely a floor. Experimentally, you attempted to open your eyes, only to have your vision swamped by flashing saturated colors. You screwed your eyes shut again, drowning in the disorientation. There were probably voices around you, but they reached your ears as incoherent mumblings. Apparently, humans weren’t meant for instant intergalactic teleportation across schmillions of light years.

You were unsure of how long you had been laying wherever you were, nor did you suppose it mattered. Ever since you had been mildly conscious, you had been trying to recall what exactly had happened, without much luck. However, the second you had stopped caring about the preceding events, they all hit you with the force of twenty one bullet trains.

-

"Behold! Doesn't it amaze you?!" A very short alien gestured wildly to a glowing portal, grinning madly as if he couldn't believe his own genius. 

"Yes, Zim. It's very nice." Smiling uneasily, you nodded, your palms becoming slick with sweat. Over the years, you had learned to just agree with whatever Zim said, things went over much smoother that way. However, that didn't mean you weren't worried. Whatever Zim created tended to backfire...violently. Or explode. Or not work as intended. Or all of the above.

"Okay? But what does it even do?" The other human in the room spoke, more openly skeptic than you were. Purple light reflected off of his glasses as he shuffled through papers of calculations, which he couldn't read anyway, considering they were written in Irken. "Or, more accurately, what is it supposed to do?" 

"You imply that Zim's inventions never work as they should, Dib-stink!" Zim crossed his arms and turned away from Dib, clearly less than pleased with his lack of enthusiasm.

"That's because they don't!"

"Name one time!"

"Shall we take a look in The Cabinet?" The man decked out in black and blue thrusted an arm out towards a cabinet threatening to explode with close to ten years' worth of records of failed plans. Zim growled, lunging at Dib who was bent over in laughter. Before he could get very far, you grabbed the Irken's ankle, yanking him back. 

"That's enough, you two. Honestly. Act your age." The two disgruntled men grumbled complaints under their breath, but ceased their childish antics. If you hadn't known them for years, you wouldn't have believed that these two were now adults. "Now, Zim, could you kindly tell us what this thing does?" Your voice was soft and patient, hoping to set him back on track. He tended to become distracted quite often. 

"Yes! It's a portal that will allow the instant transportation of anything, the range being the entire universe!" He spread his arms wide, a laugh already bubbling up in his throat. Dib groaned and rolled his eyes.

"I thought you were working on the Irken conversions so I could finish my part on the ship." You couldn't help but crack a smile. Their ship was never going to be finished at this rate. 

"Yes, but this is much more important! I have an ingenious plan for it!"

"Enlighten us." Dib spoke flatly, still not convinced.

Zim pulled out a box wrapped up like a gift, complete with a neat little pink bow. "Zim will send this to my Tallest using the portal! Trust me, they'll love what's in here." Light from the portal glinted menacingly off of his teeth. The box made hushed mewling noises and began to ooze green goo.

"Is...is it alive?" Your voice was cautious. You took a step back when the box began to shake in his hands, bumping your back against one of the many machines in his lab.

"Zim, we've talked about this. The Tallest don't care, Irk has abandoned you, let it go. You know as well as I do that your mission isn't real, and that it's over." Dib sighed, not with frustration, more so pity. A few years ago when Zim had finally got it through his thick skull that his mission was a trick, it had devastated him to a point that no one had ever seen. You saw how much he needed a job, and Dib did as well. Dib had an issue with it in the beginning, but you both took him in, using his science skills to aid in Dib's personal projects. The last plan you were aware of was that the two were working on a ship of their own that would let them travel space together, something about Dib getting presentable proof of alien life while at the same time giving Zim a purpose. Zim seemed to have forgotten about Irk. Until now, at least.

"Don't worry about it! It's...a parting gift." The look in Zim's eyes brought you great discomfort. "Only a symbol of the termination of my service to the empire. That is all." His voice was pleasant enough, but you sensed some dark undertones. His fingers danced away on the controls, a dull hum echoing through the base as the portal fired up it's key functions. 'The Massive' and some coordinates became displayed on the screen above the portal, the destination locked in. 

"Zim…" Dib took a step forward, as did you. "You've had plenty of bad ideas, but I think this one is going to take the cake. So just shut the thing off." Zim shrugged his concerns off, stepping closer to the portal with the box that was becoming more aggressive the closer it came. Red light emitted from a lens at the top of the portal as it scanned the box in Zim's hand.

"Scan complete. Item composition: deadly. If transported, item will cause half of the universe to implode." The voice of the computer drawled. Your eyes widened as you looked to Zim, who acted as if he didn't hear the warning. More likely, he didn't care. When did he ever? He brought his arm back as he stood in front of the portal, preparing to throw the box.

Although it happened in the course of only a split second, it all was in slow motion for you. Without thinking, you took off, sprinting across the small room and leaping at Zim, harshly shoving him and the box out of the way of the portal. You had managed to prevent the tragedy of space implosion, but unfortunately, your forward motion continued, sending you through the portal. You had heard Dib's scream, but it sounded a million miles away. Your brain couldn't comprehend what had happened during the course of the teleportation, so it put you out of your misery, allowing you to pass out. 

-

"Ugh...Zim. Of course." You forced yourself to sit up, rubbing your eyes with closed fists. You were slouched over, and once the static finally cleared from your vision, you blinked several times until your eyes adjusted to the new light. The panicked whispers from before continued, but you could now make out what they were saying.

"Did she say 'Zim'?"

"What creature is it?"

"Is it a weapon?"

Your brain finally jumpstarted, and you whipped your head around, eyes darting from one face to another. Several Irkens surrounded you, to where you couldn't see anything but a sea of green. You scooted backwards to create more room between you and the crowd, bumping into something behind you. You jerked yourself around, facing two of the tallest creatures you had ever seen. Instantly you recognized them as Zim's Almighty Tallest. They were much taller in real life than you imagined them to be. Even as an adult female standing at your full height, you knew they would tower over you. Hell, they would overtake Dib by a landslide, who now stood well over six feet. They bent over you to get a better look. After a second of silent observation, the one in purple straightened up and groaned loudly, throwing his arms in the air.

"Oh god, it's one of those creatures that inhabits Zim's planet!" The purple one resumed wailing madly. The one dressed in red straightened up as well, but said nothing. His red bug eyes rested on you quizzically, intrigued by your mere existence. "You! How did you get here?" The purple one pointed a long and slender finger at you, his face filled with pure terror.

"I went through Zim's portal, it was an accident-" Your voice was panicky. Almost all of the Irkens around you were riddled with anxiety, which you absorbed like a sponge.

"So, Zim sent you!" The purple one just loved to shout, didn't he? You wondered if this was a common trait among Irkens.

"No! It-"

"He sent you for malicious purposes! Like, to, uh...to annoy us into oblivion! Yeah!" So, the purple one was a moron. Good to know. Nevertheless, the crowd of Irkens began mumbling, as if you were trapped in a high energy court room.

"This is all a big misunderstanding, now maybe you could just...drop me off at home, or maybe send me with an escape pod or something-"

"To the dungeons with her!" The purple one screeched, yet again pointing a finger at you. 

"Yes, My Tallest!" Two guards came up to you with taser spears, and you concluded it would be best not to fight. You had been electrocuted with high voltage electricity in Zim's lab once on accident, and it did not feel pleasant. A sigh fell from your lips as each guard took an arm, dragging you to the dungeons of The Massive while cheers rose from the Irken crowd. 

-

"I swear, I will kill Zim when I get my hands on him." You muttered, tossing a coin you had in your pocket against the wall for the four thousandth time. You sat on the floor of your cell, the cold concrete making you shiver. The wall that pressed against your back was the same. There wasn't even a cot in there. Iron bars with buzzing electricity fields between them blocked your exit.

"That's not the first time I've heard that in here." A voice floated toward your ears, however it was muffled by the surrounding concrete.

"Who are you?" You had assumed you were alone in there. After all, how often could you possibly use a dungeon on an armada flagship?

"I'm Deek. I think. Honestly, I've been here so long I can't even remember." The voice, which sounded male, giggled. "Anyway, what are you in here for?"

"Not sure. Trespassing, maybe? The more accurate term would be a kneejerk reaction. What about you?"

"Being annoying. I guess."

"Shit, really? I'm sorry."

"Nah, it's better than being tossed out the airlock." You ceased throwing the coin. Decidedly, Irken society seemed to be hell in space. "In fact, they just threw Jix out last week. Poor gal." Deek's voice held a tinge of sadness. Images flashed through your mind of your body being launched into space. That wasn't how you had envisioned dying. You shuddered. 

The sound of a door opening and steps approaching your cell caused every muscle in your body to tense. You vaguely wondered if it was your turn for death by airlock. You squeezed your eyes shut, curling yourself into a ball with your face between your knees, not wanting to see who had stopped in front of your cell.

"So..." The voice was level and calm, a stark contrast to the chaos of before. Cautiously, you lifted your head, opening your eyes. At your level, you could only see a long crimson skirt. Pushing yourself up to a standing position, you still had to crane your neck to see his face. The red Tallest stood before you, a bored expression plastered on his face. 

"Are you here to kill me?"

"Uh..." He almost seemed surprised that you had asked that. Even still, you wouldn't take any chances. 

"You shouldn't kill me! Just, you know, reverse engineer the phenomena or something and teleport me back! Or even send me in an escape pod! Humans, uhm, we cause massive explosions when killed! Yeah! So you'd destroy yourself in the process." If he had sensed you were lying, he didn't care. However, he did look puzzled by your desperate reaction.

"What? No, I'm not here to kill you." He let out a massive sigh, bending over to look you in the eye. "I'm just bored. There's only so much of Purple's antics I can take at a time." Your shoulders relaxed in immediate relief. 

"Wait, his name is Purple? Let me guess, your name is Red?" That was such a strange notion to you. Every other Irken you had heard of all had such bizarre names, and apparently these two just went by Red and Purple.

"Yeah? So? Also, it's Tallest to you." The threatening tone inserted into his words was half-hearted at best.

"Can't I call you Red? I'm not Irken."

"I don't think so, short-thing."

"Why not? And I'm not short! You're just tall. Plus, my name is Y/n. Not short-thing." You huffed, unconsciously shifting to stand on your toes, increasing your height by maybe an inch at the most. He seemed to appreciate his height being acknowledged, so he relented.

"Fine, do what you want." Red continued to stare at you, almost as if he couldn't quite understand what you were. You didn't blame him, the circumstance had been kind of sudden. Plus, he hadn't heard from Zim in years. Most likely, everyone had assumed him to be dead. 

"You said you were bored? I'll have you know, I can be quite entertaining! So maybe you could, I dunno, get me out of here?" Your lips lifted in a sweet smile, hoping Irkens could be swayed by charm. There was a second of silence as he mulled the idea over. On one hand, it would give him something to do besides eat and blow things up. On the other, if anyone saw, many questions would arise. Despite his concerns, curiosity won out. With his two thin fingers, he tapped a code into a keypad on the wall. There was a dying buzz as the electricity stopped flowing and the iron bars were lifted. There was a part of you that was amazed that he actually let you out. You stepped out, watching his face to make sure he wasn't bluffing about sparing your life. Not a muscle in his body so much as twitched, hell, you weren't even sure if he was breathing. You didn't know how he could with a waist like that. "So, what now?" 

"I thought you said you were the master of fun?"

"I said I was entertaining, not the master of fun. But, I dunno, we could start by getting out of here. Space prison kind of kills the vibe."

"Fine." Red began walking, well, hovering down the hall. He did not look back to see if you were following, and you had to jog to catch up. "Oh, and this isn't space prison, that's Moo-Ping 10. This is more like space holding." 

"There's a difference?"

"Oh yeah." You were sure you were both still in the belly of the ship, considering you never once went up a flight of stairs. However, you had exited the dungeon area, and emerged into a more open room. There were some tables and chairs, and the room was lit by white florescent lights. Everything else within the room was some shade of pink. Occasionally, he would take a quick glance around, as if to make sure no one was watching. Was he supposed to be down here? If he was a supreme leader of society, you weren't sure why it mattered where he was or who he was with.

"What is this place?" You finally asked as he took a seat in a chair, chin resting in his hand. His glances in your direction were fleeting and infrequient, almost as if he were embarrassed to be intrigued by something so short. 

"Not sure. An unused dining hall maybe?" Satisfied with his answer, you took a seat next to him. Taking the opportunity to look him up and down, youwere confused by his anatomy. He was built differently than every Irken you had ever seen. You pointed to his impossibly skinny waist. 

"How?" You opted for that phrasing, as you were unsure if 'is that natural?' would have been rude. 

"Hm? Oh. Corset." His answers to everything were quick and simple. Even still, you couldn't help but stare in wonder. 

"Doesn't it hurt?" You assumed having a corset tightened to such an extreme would be incredibly painful, but he only shrugged without a care.

"You get used to it. It's all part of being Tallest, just as is losing your thumbs." A smirk etched its way onto his face at your horrfied expression as his wiggled his two fingers through the gauntlet on his arm. Subconsciously you rubbed your thumbs, lips pursed in a tight line. "You're a curious little thing."

"You act like I'm a child! I'm a grown woman, thank you very much." You may still have been young by human standards, but you had still made it over the age of 18, so technically, you were an adult. Red chuckled at your pouting, as you had just proven his point unintentionally. A ghost of a smile was present on his face. Was he actually enjoying himself? You decided to switch gears. "The whole dynamic of Irk is strange."

"Oh yeah? How so?" 

"It's like one big military." Red snickered, unable to stop the chuckle that rose from his chest.

"Of course it is. That's kind of our whole thing." He lifted a hand, trying to gesture to the armada as a whole. 

"Oh, yeah. Right." Another silence fell between you two. It was rather difficult for you as a human to comprehend Irken society. It all just seemed so...foreign. So static and stiff. 

Red was the first to speak again. "Tell me then. What's Earth like?" Excitedly, you sat up in your chair, eyes shining. 

"Well, people still respect each other, sometimes anyway, but everyone is less stiff with each other. There's more kindness. Now, don't get me wrong, there are many who are full of hate and lots of people fight all the time, but it's still less so than Irk. Plus, height isn't such a huge deal. And there's relationships." Your words came out quickly, hands moving to accentuate your thoughts.

"Relationships?" If Red had eyebrows, they would be raised in questioning. His voice was laced with suspicion, as if he didn't trust the concept.

"Yeah! All different kinds. Familial, platonic, romantic, etc. You know, parents, siblings, friends, that kind of thing...usually, they're all based on love. And, no offense, but there seems to be an absence of that here." You had heard it from Zim many times before. Irkens can't feel love, they trust no one and all that. On some level, you doubted that to be true, rather it was more of a choice, that maybe they were told that love is a sign of weakness so they chose not to feel anything at all.

"Love...?" Red spit out the word as if it burned his tongue. Clearly, love was not a well thought of concept in Irken culture. After a moment, he appeared to recall something. "I think I remember something that happened years ago...Zim called about some romantic experiment he was running on some girl. Said it was very pain-based. This is something humans find...pleasant?" Waving your hands you shook your head in a clear 'no'. No wonder Red was concerned by the idea of love.

"No! Not unless you're a masochist anyway. I don't know what the hell he was doing, but that's not what love is."

His tone showed that he was still mildly disgusted with the topic, but nevertheless, he proceeded to ask for further clarification. "Then what is it?" Red was never very interested when Zim had been reporting ten-ish years ago, but now that he had a subject sitting right in front of him, the idea became somewhat exciting.

"Like, romantic love?" You asked, a small part of you hoping he was asking about platonic love instead. You weren't entirely sure how to explain romance to a species who understood nothing but pain and hierarchy. Red nodded, asking you to go on. You breathed out a relenting sigh, struggling for the right words to explain it. "Romance is...uhm…it's when..." Red peered at you expectantly, crimson eyes wide and inquisitive. Finally, you came up with something. "It's when you like someone very much, and you would do almost anything for them." He nodded slowly, looking as if he was beginning to grasp it.

"Like pledging your loyalty?" Loyalty was a thing Irkens could understand thoroughly.

"Yeah, like that! And you want to do lots of stuff together! Spend time together and all that. There's also physical affection." His head cocked to the side, similar to a puppy. 

"Physical affection?"

"Ye...Yeah...!" Your feet shifted on the floor as you clutched the hem of your shirt between your fingers. You couldn't help but feel nervous under his gaze. Your face flushed as he stared out at you through half-lidded eyes, overly fixated on the topic of physical affection. 

"What's that?" Once again, his voice was as even as could be. The corners of his mouth turned upwards in a grin, enjoying the way you were acting. It was quite amusing to him. You suddenly regretted bringing up the subject of romance.

"Like, examples?" Swallowing hard, your fingers began to drum on the table. How were you possibly supposed to describe it to him? He certainly wouldn't know what a hug or a kiss was. "I don't think I can exactly describe it to you..." You hoped he would leave it at that and move on.

Of course that wasn't the case. That was the problem with Irkens. Once they found a way to make you squirm, they would push until it was no longer fun. "Then show it to me." His response was quick, zero hesitation. He looked completely satisfied, for once not feeling that familiar dull, almost constant ache of boredom. You weren't sure about it at first, but the longer he looked at you with that smug expression, the more determined you became to wipe that smirk off his face. 

"Fine." Irkens are touch-starved creatures. It wouldn't take anything too extreme to accomplish what you wanted. You stood up, moving over to plant yourself right in his lap. Taking his hand, you intertwined your fingers with his two, pressing your face into his chest. "Humans do things like cuddle and hold hands." His heartbeat was similar to a human's, the rhythym just slightly different. This close, you could hear the soft hum of his PAK. With your free hand, you traced indescribable shapes into his chest. If you were to look up, you would have seen his antennae twitching. Already, you had accomplished what you had set out to. He was no longer teasing or overconfident. Although he would never admit it, he was content with the attention. As you continued to draw random nothingness, Red let out what sounded like a low purr, the sound sending a pleasant rumble through his chest and against your skin. A series of quiet chirps followed, and you had to assume he was satisfied. You couldn't help but giggle, and at the time, the uncertainty of how you would get home was the furthest thing from your mind.

"Do humans do anything else?" Red attempted to suppress the spark in his voice, but was wildly unsuccessful. His tone was the farthest thing from passive. You let go of his hand, sitting up to face him. 

"Of course we do." You experimentally raised a hand to his face, seeing if he would shy away. That was not the case, rather the opposite. He seemed to almost lean into your touch. You weren't sure why he was so okay with this; you supposed that each Irken had different policies and tolerances when it came to physical contact. Red seemed to be anxiously awaiting whatever was coming next, his expression eager. "Sometimes we give each other kisses." You didn't bother fighting the smile that played at your lips as you peppered several kisses all over his face. There was barely an inch of his cheeks and forehead that went untouched. Red's face felt hot beneath your lips, and if Irkens could blush, you were sure he would be completely flushed. His fingers had drifted to your sides, lightly resting there. 

Hmm...Irkens are quite interesting... You thought as you held eye contact with Red. He was clearly embarrassed to be engaging in this, but more so at the fact that he was enjoying it. And yet, he held your gaze, unwilling to back down. You wondered what would happen if someone found him like this. What would even happen?

"The rest of human physical affection is rather intimate, so the lesson will have to end here." Before he could protest, you leaned in one last time, pressing your lips to where his should be. His fingers dug into your sides, antennae shooting straight up in the air. You had never dreamed that you would be kissing an alien leader on a warship in space, but you wouldn't say you were disappointed. Pulling away, Red's grip on you loosened, and something bright caught your eye. Small sparks were being thrown from his PAK, which concerned you slightly. "Uh, Red...?" Pointing a finger to his PAK, he shook his head wildly, and after a moment, everything seemed to be alright again.

"It's fine!" He spoke abruptly, voice loud and awkward. His voice drew in some company, as Purple stuck his head in the room.

"There you are! Zim keeps sending transmissions through and he's going crazy-" Red yelped, practically throwing you off of him and into the nearest chair he could find.

"So, do I go home now?" You asked, and for the first time, Purple seemed to notice you.

"Ack! How did you get out of the dungeons?!" Purple jumped back, despite already being across the room from you.

"I have super powers." You snickered at his frightened appearance. Red rolled his eyes, waving his counterpart off.

"Just go, I'll deal with Zim." Purple nodded, zipping out of the room. You weren't sure if your senses were playing tricks on you, or if Red really was disappointed to see you leave. "C'mon, Y/n. Let's go figure out how to reverse engineer a transport portal."

[thereluctantinquisitor]

Another Year

OKAY so it is @frenchy-and-the-sea’s birthday and I am HERE with a terrible gift that is just... okay, listen. LISTEN. I had feelings and I just wrote them down and if it is wildly out of character please just pretend it is a really weird AU! 

Aaaanyway, Alex and Tahir belong to the wonderful Frenchy and live in her amazing original work, Seven Cities. If you haven’t already, join me in this glorious rabbit hole and come fall in love with all her characters!

Happy Birthday Frenchy <3

                                  ---------------------------------

If someone had told a young Alex that her life would be shaped like a cradle of wood, set adrift over the ocean chasing fairytales, she would have laughed them out of the room and told them not to bother coming back. Hell, sometimes she felt like laughing herself out of the room when she paused long enough to think about what they were doing. Seven cities. Sitting cross-legged by the Ranger’s bow, her head resting against one of the railing posts, those two words alone were enough to stir something deep and quiet in her chest. It was hard, not to long for answers to unasked questions. Particularly when they had been planted in your head by someone else. Some days, that meeting with Jon, and all the things that followed, felt like a dream. A story that had happened to someone else, a long time ago, that she just happened to overhear at a pub in some piss-soaked harbour town. A story full to the brim of adventure and triumph. Fuller still of mess and mistakes.

“Another year, huh?”

Alex huffed, not bothering to pull her eyes from the waves. “Not sure what you mean. Not sure I care to know, either.”

Of course, she knew exactly what he meant. Maybe at another time, in another place, Tahir might have laughed at her almost dramatic sullenness. But not this time. Instead, he just hovered for a while, before finally lowering himself down beside her with a soft grunt. Exhaling, he tipped his head back. Dark circles framed his eyes, same as hers. There had been some long days, of late, and even longer nights. They wore them about as well as could be expected. “You know, after all this time, I thought you’d soften up to people wanting to celebrate your birthday.” His gaze flicked down, and Alex’s averted just as fast. “It’s a good thing, lad. Means you’ve eked out another year in this mad place. And there’s no one alive who can take that from you.”

“If you’re feeling like waxing poetic, Tahir, there are better audiences for it.”

“Ah, well, Adelina is asleep.”

“Try Duchess.”

The pair exchanged a flat look, like siblings poised to push each other’s buttons. Normally, Alex’s glower was a thing of legend, but this time she felt the corners of her lips twitch traitorously and had to break the contest, masking it by casting her attention back out over the water with a huff. Rather than reveling in his victory, Tahir just allowed a faint smile to spread freely across his face. He was a spot of brightness in the inky dark. Somehow, when she needed him to be, he always was.

The silence lingered until she broke it. “I don’t make a fuss or demand a song and dance because I don’t care about it, Tahir.” Alex wasn’t sure why she started speaking. Normally those kinds of words had to be pried from her like a coin from a miser. “So unless you’ve been spending your lonesome evenings knitting a cape from old hemp sacks and sail rope, best to just treat it the same as any other day.”

There was a pause. “Well,” Tahir began slowly, “I’m not sure about the knitting, but if I’d known you wanted a cape made out of old hemp and---”

He broke off with a surprised grunt as the heel of Alex’s boot connected solidly with his thigh, then quickly caught her foot in one large hand. He raised it slightly, as if to say don’t make me confiscate this, then set it back down on the wooden deck at a pointedly safe distance. “In seriousness,” he continued, one eye still watching for any further signs of attack, “have a drink, at least. Even if it’s just with me or Adelina. Celebrate a little.”

Alex arched a brow. “That an order?”

“It’s a suggestion, Alex. From a friend.”

“Yeah, well…” Alex reached up and ran a hand through her hair. Or at least, she tried it, tangled as it was from the salt and wind. “Consider your friendly suggestion noted. I just…” Her arm suddenly felt heavy. Too heavy. She let it fall to her lap like an anchor to the seafloor. “I just don’t feel in a celebrating mood. Not of late. It’s… there’s so much to do, Tahir.”

“Like what?”

“I…” Alex hesitated. There were things to be done. Of course there were things to be done! There was always something to finish, or begin, or re-do because some half-asleep idiot fucked it up the first time. They were all tired. All drained dry. That meant something was leaking – something that needed to be fixed. Something she needed to fix.

Yet, when asked what that thing was, she found herself at a loss.

Tahir shifted his weight, boot scraping over the deck as he bent his knee and propped his elbow on it. “Sometimes, we have bad weeks. All of us, together, on this ship.” He was looking at her, waiting for her to meet his gaze. When she didn’t, he continued anyway. “None of us blame you for it, Alex. We’ll blame the gods, or the weather, or a bad hand at a tarot reader’s tent well before we’d ever blame you. This is just… how things go sometimes. We can’t change it any more than we can change the tide.”

Finally, Alex turned to face him. “So… what? I’m just meant to accept that sometimes everything goes to shit for no reason? Make my peace with it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because punishing yourself doesn’t make it any easier.”

Alex opened her mouth – to retort? Argue? She wasn’t sure. But once again, she found the will to fight had abandoned her. Or maybe, just maybe, Tahir had a point, and she’d just rather cast herself into the sea than admit it right now. 

Instead, Alex just grunted; a quiet kind of acquiescence, open enough to interpretation that she could stomach it well enough. Tahir, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, accepted it with wordless grace. They sat in silence for a little while longer, side by side, lulled by the creaking of the ship. Then, there was a rustle of fabric as Tahir reached into his side-pouch and extended a further sign of peace.

A flask.

“What’ve you got in there today?” Alex took the flask and set to unscrewing it with half-numb fingers. The night-chill was starting to rise already. She convinced herself the drink was just to chase it away. Nothing more.

Tahir relaxed back against the rail, stretching his legs out again. “Something you’ll like.”

Frowning, Alex eyed him warily as she slowly raised the flask to her nose. The first inhale was short – a test, of sorts. When she didn’t keel over from a poorly conceived prank by one of the twins, she relaxed and allowed herself a deeper breath. What met her was something rich, lightly spiced, and possessing just enough edge to promise a good, trickling warmth that curled its way to her fingertips. Even without tasting it, she knew one thing for certain: it was good. “When did you even get this?” she asked a little accusingly. Last time they were at port, he’d insisted on staying with the ship while the others enjoyed a well-earned shore leave. 

Apparently not.

As though reading her mind, Tahir quickly raised his hands. “Easy there, Captain. I convinced Davin to take my place for a bit. The Ranger was in good hands.” He hesitated. “Well, reasonably good hands. He was still sober enough to stand.”

It was easier to laugh, somehow, with that flask in her hand. Not just because its contents sent a comforting warmth straight to her stomach, but because it was something she hadn’t known she needed. It was a moment with someone she trusted above anyone else, sitting on the bow of her ship, letting sea and sail carry them towards a distant point of the compass.

Some leaks are small. Barely even noticeable, at first. But god, it feels good when someone takes the time to patch it.

“That good, huh?” Tahir asked eventually, after Alex had helped herself to a third hearty swig. Humming contently, she smirked and held out the flask.

“You tell me.” When Tahir raised his brows, Alex just rolled her eyes. “Listen - given you probably owe Dav a favour now – a thing no man alive would envy – you can at least partake in the spoils.”

Laughing, Tahir shrugged his large shoulders. “Well, when you put it that way, how could I say no?”

There it was again. That smile. The one that reminded Alex that she had her own. And she found it, then, as Tahir took the flask and allowed himself a long, deep swallow. Then another. Then another…

“Hey - don’t go emptying it!” There was a moment of frenzy, Alex grabbing for the flask, Tahir twisting away, keeping her at bay with a frantically extended elbow. Eventually, Alex managed to snatch it back and tipped it up, peering inside as though to measure the precise depth of his betrayal. “You rat bastard.”

But Tahir wasn’t listening. He was too busy laughing, one hand on the rail, hauling himself to his feet (and, more importantly, out of range). Once upright, he swayed slightly, then stretched his back. Cat-like. Content in his flagrant hubris.

 Duchess would be proud.

 “Come on, then,” he said. “Up you get.”

“What?” Alex was still fuming, trying to fish out the last few boozy drops with her finger. Traitor. “Why the hell should I?”

Tahir just grinned. 

“Because the rest of the bottle is with Adelina, and you’ve kept her waiting long enough.”

[sorcererinthestars]

Let’s Go Steal a Yacht

[UPDATED 2021.] Written for the 2020 @rtwritingcommunity‘s Secret Sunshine event for @leftsmitteninbritain! Just edited for 2021. Safe now! Please enjoy some unrestrained summer fun on this lovely August eve!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25569448

-- The sun over the Los Santos skyline was relentless. The heat this week hadn’t been less than 90 degrees and it scorched every citizen that walked down the roads, turning skin red and blistering and making everyone sweat. Like every smart citizen of Los Santos, the Fake AH Crew had been mainly squirreled away inside their frozen fridge of a penthouse apartment, air conditioning blasting.

But Geoff’s birthday was coming up and that required a big bash. Michael bent over the proposed plans, scrunching his nose up as he pointed at the phone where they had all scribbled down ideas.

So far, the list was pitiful. “We can’t go out to bevs, J,” Michael sighs. “He doesn’t drink anymore. That’d be weird, right?”

“Only as weird as you make it,” he shrugs, glancing to Gavin, Jack, Trevor, and Alfredo who were sitting lazily on the various penthouse couches, watching with various degrees of boredom. Geoff was out on an errand — they should have at least half an hour of uninterrupted time to discuss.

“What if we did like — a heist?” Jack asks, snatching the phone from Michael. Gavin just grins at his immediate pout, but Michael hands the phone over anyways. “Like, combine something fun with a little mayhem.”

“Geoff does love his mayhem,” Gavin nods. “What do you have in mind?”

“There’s a bunch of rich kids who are running a coke scam across the border out of their yacht,” Jack explains, gesturing to the map of the city and pointing at a spot on the Los Santos waterfront. “It’s a pretty low-bit operation. Not much drugs, but it’s sort of just an excuse for the Harvard whiz-kids to blow off some steam. But they do it off of a massive yacht. I’m talking three-floors, two hot tubs, helipad sort of shit. Mommy and Daddy must own it, but the kids run it.” She grins up at them. “Seems like the sort of thing Geoff’ll like, right?”

“So… you’re thinking that we make a run for the yacht, take it and the drugs, and then have a full-out bev party with their built in pool?” Gavin’s all smirks, sitting back and putting his feet up on the table.

“Not to be a downer or anything,” Trevor says smoothly, “but won’t killing the sons and daughters of some filthy rich people like — cause more problems than a few pounds of coke and a boat we could buy is worth?”

Jack shakes her head. “I know these types of kids. I’ve been scouting out the yacht on my morning flights. It’s not stocked for a fight. I think the kids know it’s a matter of time before one drug lord or another rolls them over for their stock. It’s not meant to be a long-term operation. It’s not like they need the money. I figure, load up on some guns, be intimidating, blare a megaphone from my attack chopper, and they’ll roll right over.”

“Give Geoff a fun day out without any actual violence,” Jeremy hums. “I’d like to actually shoot at someone, but it’d be fun to pretend, anyways.”

Jack chuckles a bit. “Can you live without blood and guts for one day, Rimmy?”

He huffs out an overexaggerated sigh, but then laughs. “Yeah. For Geoff.”

“For Geoff,” they agree. And the plan is set.

—

A few days later, on the day of the fight, Michael meets Gavin in the door of their shared bedroom. He leans against the doorframe, watching as the other gathers some of his camera equipment and places it in a waterproof bag. “So,” he purrs, announcing his presence. “Does that mean I get to see you in a skimpy bathing suit?”

Gavin doesn’t even have the decency to jump. But he does smile, moving over to the man as Michael shuts the door soundlessly behind him. “Guess it does. I’m sure you’ll like the view,” he grins back mercilessly.

“Don’t be an ass,” Michael teases, grinning with sharp teeth as he runs a finger down Gavin’s skin. Already tanned and lovely, Gavin really didn’t need much more sun. But his lips were still warm as he leans over to brush a kiss against Michael’s.

That wasn’t going to fly, and Michael shamelessly yanks him forward for a breathless kiss that leaves them both chuckling as they break apart. “And there’s more where that comes from later,” Michael demands as they step back. “I want no less than half an hour of uninterrupted Gavin time on a beach chair.”

Gavin laughs, eyes bright. “Is that so?”

“I want a frozen drink in one hand and my boyfriend’s hair in the other,” he says brazenly, laughing openly. “Is that too much to ask?”

“Sounds great,” Gavin smirks, eyes dancing, giving him one more kiss on the cheek. “Now get out. I’m sure more things need to happen and Alfredo’s going to need three people to tell him he shouldn’t bring a sniper rifle to a yacht.”

“Bet you fifteen bucks Jeremy is going to throw him into the pool and by the end of the night, neither of them are going to be able to stand.”

“Fifteen bucks. Jeremy can stand. We’ll have to fish a passed out Fredo from the pool.”

“You’re on.”

—

The best thing is that Geoff has absolutely no idea that half their heist prep bags are filled with birthday decorations, swim trunks, food and drink mixes, and all sorts of other goodies. He’s all gung-ho with the idea of shaking another drug gang from their territory and as far as the birthday boy is concerned, they’re going in loud and will return home for dinner and a movie.

They take a speedboat and a few jet skis out to the yacht, moored about a mile off shore in the deeper waters. As soon as they get close, they can hear shouting echoing over the waves. Probably emphasized by the whop-whopping sound of Jack’s blades overhead as she hovers in her copter.

“You have ten minutes to fully vacate this vessel!” Jack shouts. Only her boys can hear the glee in her voice as it echos, amplified by the speakers she has attached to the helicopter. The yacht erupts in chaos, scantily clad men and women racing around. Through the scope of his sniper, Alfredo can see drinks and things being tossed overboard.

“Leave the drugs and we’ll let you go,” Jack continues to order as people continue to scream and race around. Jeremy and Michael drive their jet skis in circles around the yacht, their screams of laughter erupting as shots pock the water around them. They’re going much too fast to be hit by an untrained hand.

“Should I take the shot?” Fredo asks lazily, gun in his hand. He doesn’t expect to receive a yes, and he’s right, Geoff waves his hand, just chuckling. It’s cooler out on the water, and if he spends his birthday just chilling and watching a bunch of rich bitches freak out, that’s fine with him. “Let ‘em squirm.”

After five or so minutes, they start to board the yacht. Any stragglers who try to fight them are immediately knocked out. There’s no need to kill, not in this adventure — that would bring down more trouble than it was worth. With any luck, the kids will tell this story to their friends back at their hoitey-toitey universities and no one will have to die.

Michael joins up with Jeremy as they’re wandering around the main deck. Jeremy has his obnoxious yellow ‘Bigness’ mask over the second part of his face and Michael has paint drawn like war lines across his face in a pattern he’s affectionately named ‘Mogar’. Lingering twenty-something’s spook as they see them, racing away.

At the end of the day, Jeremy only has to throw one sod overboard. He screams as he falls the six-something feet over the back deck, hitting the water with a thwap that seems painful. Michael screams jeers after him, Jeremy laughing warmly with pleasure.

They watch as the guy swims frantically towards the circling speedboat of rich kids, who pull him on board and race away.

“Did you see that idiot?” Michael laughs, spinning Jeremy around and removing that god awful cowboy hat. “He almost pissed himself when you grabbed him.” 

“Rumors of the Rimmy Tim go a long way,” Jeremy cackles. “I wasn’t even carrying my gun.”

“You’re a god awful eyesore, J,” Gavin’s voice filters through their coms. “I’ve disabled any tracking they have in the helm, plus gps positioning. Stand by, gents — this party is just getting started!”

Geoff, standing at the bow on the top deck, lazily wraps his arm around Jack and grins. “A very merry birthday to me,” he hums. “How much coke did we salvage?”

“About $50 grand worth, I’d say,” Jeremy says from the lower decks. “Not bad for an hour and no bullets.”

“Damn,” Geoff smirks. “I love to be King.” He runs his hand over the rail of the yacht. “Alright boys, let’s scuttle this thing and head home.”

“Scuttle?” Alfredo bursts, incredulous. “No, no. Everyone gather at the hot tub in the rear of the boat — ”

“Aft, Fredy!” Gavin protests. “Gotta be sea-worthy!”

Alfredo sighs and Trevor just kisses him on the cheek with a smirk. “I’ll throw him into the sea myself,” he whispers in his ear.

“....aft, then. Jack wants to say something.”

“Something you can’t say over coms?” Geoff asks with a raised eyebrow, but at Jack’s bright grin of insistence as she pulls on his arm, he laughs and shakes his head. “Okay, I’m coming, I’m coming. But you better get this out past the twelve-mile marker soon or we’re going to have the LSPD on our asses.”

“Pulling out,” Gavin hums. “This thing is run entirely on auto-pilot. Auto-ship? What’s the correct word? Anyways, I’m steering it out now.”

Even as he says it, the ship starts turning and heading out towards the open waters. They all rock a bit, but quickly find their sea legs as they head towards the aft, where Jeremy is already pulling off his heist clothes to reveal yet another glaringly purple-and-orange outfit — this time a pair of swim trunks — and falling into the hot tub.

It’s sickeningly hot, but it doesn’t stop him from wanting to take advantage of the bubbles.

It doesn’t take long for them to arrive, Gavin poking at his phone to make sure they’re not going to crash into, like, an underwater bomb or something. Geoff glances around at all of them, specifically at Jeremy with swim trunks, and lets out a bit of a sigh. He can’t help but grin. “Guys…” 

“Happy birthday, Geoff,” Jack smirks from off to his left, pulling out something from her bag. It’s a firecracker, and with a tug, confetti and sparks fly out over the deck. “We’ve got snacks! Diet Coke! Party favors! And best of all…”

Michael moves over and, waving his arms in an elaborate parody, tries to encompass the entirety of the yacht they just stole. “A yacht, just for you!”

The others erupt into cheers as Geoff turns a bright red. Redder even than the sunburn that already marked his cheeks, anyways. “Boys, you didn’t have —”

“Stop,” Jack teases, shaking her head. “You know we did.” She squeezes his arm and pushes him towards the hot tub. “Now, relax.”

—

Two hours later, Geoff had discovered the massive built-in grill and was working on preparing his own birthday feast. They had protested, telling him this was his day, but he was having a blast. Gavin had hacked into the speakers and music was pumping. Currently, Jeremy and Jack were racing each other on jet skis around the yacht, screaming and yelling at one another as they zipped past with incredible speed.

Michael was focused on a different sight — namely, Gavin’s face as he leaned over him as they both sipped on fruity, icy drinks. The booze was sliding through their veins, making the world a looser, happier place, even if Trevor kept prompting him to drink water to keep him from burning in the sun. Their hair was both wet from their journey into the water, but now they were just relaxing in the warmth.

“You’re tanning,” Gavin teases, nosing into the side of his face and kissing his ear just a bit. Michael just laughs. “I’m fuckin’ from Jersey, man, what do you expect.” Gavin’s resulting musical chuckle makes him blush a bit.

“Whores,” Alfredo comments dryly as he strolls past, but his grin shows he’s only teasing. He’s got some fruit concoction in one hand and was making beeline towards where Trevor was waiting for him on another deck chair. Everyone knew he couldn’t resist making a playful comment, but it doesn’t matter. Michael was feeling real good, and teasing wasn’t going to stand. 

He lurches up, dumping Gavin unceremoniously from his lap. “What did you say, you ass?” he calls, stumbling after Alfredo, who bursts out into laughter and flees to the dock. Gavin sits up and throws something at Geoff, who turns from the grill with amusement.

“Catch me if you can, bastard!” Alfredo laughs, dodging his attempts at capture with dexterity that no one should be capable of with so much booze inside him. But Michael has the dogged persistence of a man who loved to cause chaos, and it’s not long before he’s captured Alfredo in a tackle hold that sends the other squirming.

“God!” Michael grumbles, “You’re disgusting, you ass, so fucking sweaty! Have you gone swimming yet?”

“No!” Alfredo shouts, struggling, and they grapple for a few moments, laughing, before they lurch towards the edge of the dock.

No amount of struggling and playful yelling could stop this — Michael chunks Alfredo unceremoniously over the side of the dock. He spirals, arms and legs akimbo, until he splashes into the warm water of the Pacific with a yelp.

Everyone on board erupts into laughter as he surfaces, sputtering out insults and making sure he didn’t get water up his nose.

“Dick,” Alfredo mutters as he climbs back on deck, sprawling into the sun as soon as he lands there, spitting out water. Michael leans over him with a playful grin. “Don’t call me a whore again,” he says with his roguish grin and returns to Gavin’s waiting arms, who was giggling the whole time.

—

It’s truly insane just how much booze they get through, even if Geoff isn’t imbibing. The day trails on with a mixture of swimming adventures — Jack finds a few sets of snorkels in one of the unfortunate college student’s stuff — and launches into teaching a few very drunk boys the wonders of fish and coral. They are pretty decent swimmers even with a few bottles of booze inside them and only once does a rescue need to be made for Gavin, who is rapidly losing his ability to stand.

Geoff serves them an elaborate feast of steak, burgers, and dogs, supplemented with potato chips, potato salad, and regular salad. A true barbeque, and they eat like animals, ripping into it all.

Jeremy finds himself leaning against Jack at one point in the meal, and she gently puts more water in front of him and kisses him on the top of the head. She’s feeling good herself, nowhere near losing control but enough to be a bit more free with her affection.

She loves these idiots from the bottom of her heart. It warms her even more than the sun to see Geoff smiling so brightly, Gavin and him laughing about something foolish, Jeremy and Michael holding hands even as Michael tosses bits of bun at Alfredo to catch in his mouth, Trevor kissing him on the cheek every time he manages to catch one. Even if Trevor and Alfredo were their own little couple, they were family. They were her family.

Michael catches her smile and returns it. He looks tanner now, sunburn catching the tip of his ears and the curve of his shoulders, but it’s just great to see him so relaxed and happy.

They needed this. Summer just meant shorter nights which pushed for more intense heists with a shorter getaway period. She knew more than anyone the lengths to which they were working to be better, better, better. Geoff had said it themselves — they were Kings of Los Santos, but at what cost?

But today, it was a break from that. It was time for sun and surf, for snorkeling and barbeque dinners, for unrestrained booze (within reason, of course) and even less restrained smiles.

Her family. Criminals all, but criminals who lived and loved same as anyone.

—

As the sun sent cascading beams of color across the sky, Geoff rolls his shoulders and grins from where he was enjoying reading his book without assholes interrupting him every ten minutes. “This yacht is the best fuckin’ birthday present a guy could ask for. Better than dicks.” 

“What could be better than dicks?” Michael teases from where he was trying to see if he could balance on a surfboard in a handstand. Gavin’s request. Sometimes he wonders why he gets himself into this mess.

He drops into the water with a crash when a very sunburned Gavin turns to him. “Geoffrey, you’re going to miss the best part!”

“Best part?” He blinks, putting his book down a bit. “What do you mean? There’s more?”

Jeremy’s all grins. “Yeah. Fireworks.”

Of course there are fireworks. And not just any fireworks. Big ones, ones that are illegal all across the county and into California and beyond. Ones that could set forest fires. But for guys who play with real explosives, these are nothing.

He’s just about to ask where they are when Jack comes strolling back over to them, her Hawaiian shirt tied across her bikini top. He has to practically force himself to listen to her instead of losing himself in how pretty she is.

“I’ve rigged them,” she grins, shooting the Lads two enthusiastic thumbs up. “Alfredo helped.” His diabolical laugh when he comes out from behind them and how bright Alfredo’s eyes are is never a good sign for anyone’s safety.

“If anyone knows anything about rigging about thirty wires together in one long fuse, it’s Fredo,” Trevor teases from his place on the deck. Alfredo refuses to look ashamed, just grins like a loon. “Gonna be a hell of a show. Short, though.”

Geoff rolls his eyes, but they can see the smirk he tries to hide. “Okay, assholes, get going then. I’m not going to miss the giant fireworks show on my birthday.” The other Lads race over, following the Gents as best they can when they’re all pretty shit-faced. Michael and Jeremy need to hold onto each other, giggling as they try not to fall down, but with the help of one another they climb the stairs to the top deck and look across the way. There’s a bunch of rockets — nearly literal rockets, not fireworks — strapped to the roof of the rooftop deck across the ship, a good 100 meters away.

“Here goes nothing,” Alfredo says once everyone is assembled and looking up into the beautiful night sky. He slams his hand down on the button and watches as the fireworks erupt up into the sky, exploding in a burst of color and sound.

It’s not the most professional fireworks show. It’s loud and hot and they have to dodge a bit of flaming debris. Michael is literally whooping, jumping up and down, grabbing Jeremy’s arm. Gavin squawks, diving behind Geoff and watching with wide eyes as the leader of the Fake AH Crew watches the sheer destructive force his boys put together, just for him.

“That was awesome, boys,” he grins as it finally settles down. “Good as dicks.” The night air grows quiet and they’re left, just them, the ocean, and the sizzling debris in the water. Smiling at one another, sunburnt and heat exhausted and drunk and looking towards bed, they start turning as one towards the stairs.

[capncooks]

⠀،⠀⠀i hope you know this isn't who i am

word count: 1361

summary: you are part of the neo nazi criminal group, ran by todd alquistʼs uncle, who capture jesse. you try to help him, but your lies eventually unravel.

triggers: abusive relationship

the sun melted like liquid gold into the sunset as day turned to night. you wished this meant that the searing heat would also begin to fade, but it had been a real hot day in albuquerque and it was about to be a real hot night too. you sat in the weathered deck chair, completely bored out of your mind, and used the trigger loop to spin the pistol given for your ʼsafetyʼ.

safety. you were guarding a fifteen foot man hole, with a man inside that was no more than five foot eleven and the very epitome non-threatening. the only one who needed a gun was him, whether it was to shoot his way out or shoot himself. a big sheet of material was pulled over the top to block out the sunlight, which was a nice gesture in theory, but the material was dark and harboured way too much heat– you knew there would be a very sick man in that hole today, sun stroke would've got the best of him.

you peered down at the water bottle by your side, which was now empty for the third time of refilling. what you were about to do required you to be alone, nobody could know, and luckily that's exactly what you were. you took to the outdoor tap to fill your water bottle back up, taking a few sips yourself and then heading back over to where they kept him. you took your pistol and knocked it against the metal grid above him that acted as his prison bars. no response. you moved the material further till it only covered about a quarter of the hole, and tried again.

“hey– you” you hissed, spotting the man crawled up into a corner and seemingly lifeless.

you worried for a second, had they killed him? jack had really done it this time, fuckinʼ neo-nazi scum.

you rattled the grid again, and this time he stirred, “look up”.

the male slowly began to turn over to face you, though his hands remained cupped above his eyes as they took time to adjust to the evening light.

“iʼm gonna drop this, mʼkay?” you whispered, loud enough for him to hear, “if you want another, iʼll send down a rope and you can tie the bottle to it”

with that, you dropped the water bottle into the hole and awaited his reaction. he stared up at you for a few moments longer, before gingerly beginning to crawl over to it. you smiled as he did so, getting a weird kind of satisfaction from seeing him drink. he gulped it down, so much so you thought it was going to choke him. you hesitated telling him to slow down, but why the fuck would he? he gets one drink a day in 100 degree heat.

he finished in no time and glanced up at you, lifting the bottle shakily and forcing out the word, “more”.

you nodded in compliance, going off to scavenge a piece of rope lengthy enough to make its way down the hole. sure enough, you found one in the lab where jesse cooked and made it back. you tied the knot, all jesse had to was place the water bottle within and tighten it.

this went on for weeks. you made sure you could take watch at least once a day, getting frustrated when somebody shared it with you or was doing something outside. when jesse had to go a day without sufficient water, it ate your insides. it was so cruel. but, you did what you could... until you got caught.

“–i was so paranoid, and that was just weed” you told jesse, sat at the side of his manhole as he sat below sipping on the cool water, “i remember the streetlights began to turn off as i was walking home one night, and cus i was high as fuck, i got so paranoid... i sprinted the whole ten miles home”.

jesse sufficed a laugh at your story, “yeah, that's what weed does to you– don't ever try the stronger stuff, yʼknow, like what i cook, you wouldn't like that”.

you shook your head, “i wouldn't dream of it, iʼve seen what it does to the people in this place”.

namely, your boyfriend. charles, or chuckie as everybody often referred to him as. he was a heavy piece of work, and that was when he wasn't flying like a damn kite off crystal meth. you were with him by force, not by choice; too afraid to leave. you had planned to a few times, but his gang of neo-nazi criminals made damn sure that you were scared enough to never try it.

“why do you do this?” jesse asked, the conversation taking a much deeper and philosophical turn.

you sighed, thinking good and hard about your answer, “i hope you know this isn't who i am– iʼm like you, i guess, here by force. except, i have the chance to get out. and iʼm too damn scared to take it”.

jesse understood, he always did: you had noticed that about him. the shit he must've been through, to be so candid about almost anything you could say. if anybody knew how cruel people could be, you'd place your bets on it being jesse pinkman.

“y/n?”

you jolted upright, eyes widening like a deer caught in the headlights. you tried to pull the material over without causing too much of a scene, but the damage was done. you'd been caught at your game.

“what is this?” chuckie slowly marched up to you, taking your wrist roughly and yanking you back from the manhole.

he peered down, noticing the half filled water bottle in jesseʼs hand, before beginning to speak again, “you made yourself a lil fuckinʼ friend down there, huh?”

you stayed silent, so did jesse. you had anticipated this moment, but after a while you were starting to think you mightʼve gotten away with your little rendezvous. chuckie squeezed your wrist so tightly for a response that you let out a small cry in pain, and with that he shoved you to the ground.

“todd, frankie, jack!” chuckie called out, signalling the other members. they popped their heads out of the club building, before heading over to see what the commotion was about.

“get him out” chuckie continued, looking down at him and then you with a smile.

they dragged him out eventually, placing him down on the floor– knees bent, hands behind back. he was positioned right in front of you, and slowly you began to realise what was about to happen.

“now jesse, i know you know the rules here” chuckie spoke with a sinister air about him, “but i think y/n seems to think she can twist them”.

he kicked you in the stomach, winding you indefinitely. you choked for air, and jesse began to fidget.

“you'll think twice about making friends in this joint– both of you” you took another blow to the stomach as chuckie finished speaking, his eyes burning into you from above.

“stop” jesse whispered, becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

“stop?” chuckie tilted his head, giving jesse faux puppy eyes, “too bad that ain't enough”.

he kicked you again, and again, and again. after that, he rolled you onto your front and straddled you. with his face directly above yours, you squirmed– but he held your head in place, enough for him to spit onto you. taking one last slap from chuckie, you rolled onto your side and closed your eyes. you couldn't remember anything else: you must've blacked out.

jesse, however, he couldn't black out. he couldn't block what had just happened. he knelt in front of your limp body, tears rolling down his cheeks as he blamed himself. over and over in his head— ʼyou knew this was going to happen and you took the water anyway, you took itʼ. as some dragged you away towards the clubhouse, and the others began lowering jesse back into his hole, he couldn't help but think what he might do if only he had a gun.

he didn't want to live this life anymore.

* * *

written by ade ☺︎︎ , found on @paulsimonpie​ and @capncooks.

any requests, please send them into my ask/submissions box. my inbox is open for any queries you might have. you can send a prompt or an entire plot idea, but preferably note the season too as it helps with imagery.

feel free to leave feedback, i do this for my own personal enjoyment, but also for you– the lovely reader.