#before bouncing away to go chill out with sun

[rosesareredrosa]

One More Chance

Mattheo Riddle x fem reader

Summary: Y/n stumbles upon Mattheo while going to the library after they broke up but Mattheo wants One More Chance in their relationship

w/c: 832

The dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts were quiet, the echo of footsteps bouncing off the ancient stone walls as Y/N made her way towards the library. The evening was drawing in, the golden light from the setting sun filtering through the narrow windows and casting long shadows. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, more out of habit than need—after all, it was late autumn, and the chill had only just started to creep in.

As she turned the corner, she nearly bumped into someone. Y/N took a step back, her breath catching when she recognized who it was.

"Mattheo," she greeted, her voice coming out steadier than she felt. She hadn't expected to run into him, not here, not now. Her pulse quickened, memories she had tried so hard to bury threatening to resurface.

Mattheo Riddle stood there, hands shoved into the pockets of his robe, his dark eyes watching her intently. There was a glimmer of something—mischief, perhaps?—that danced behind his gaze, something that had always drawn her in. His tousled curls and easy smirk were as infuriatingly attractive as ever.

"Y/N," he replied, his voice smooth, carrying a hint of surprise that he didn't bother to mask. "Fancy running into you here."

She stiffened slightly, unwilling to let herself be swayed by the familiar charm in his tone. She had built walls around her heart since they had parted ways, and she wasn't about to let him chip away at them again.

"I was just heading to the library," she said coolly, sidestepping him. "Excuse me."

But Mattheo moved too, blocking her path. "In a hurry?"

Y/N sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "What do you want, Mattheo?"

He tilted his head, studying her as if trying to unravel a mystery. "I just wanted to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about," she retorted, keeping her tone brisk, despite the way her heart thudded in her chest.

"Is that so?" Mattheo mused, not moving an inch. "You don't still have feelings for me, do you?"

The question caught her off guard. Heat rose to her cheeks, but she forced herself to meet his gaze with a sharp glare. "Oh, why would I? We broke it off for a reason, didn't we?"

Mattheo's smirk faltered, replaced by a more serious expression. His eyes softened slightly, and for a moment, the bravado dropped. "We did. But it doesn't mean it was easy. Or that it didn't matter."

Y/N felt her resolve wavering, memories of late-night conversations, shared secrets, and stolen kisses flooding her mind. She had convinced herself that ending things was for the best, that they were too different, that he was too reckless and she too cautious. But the truth was that she had never really let go of him.

She shook her head, determined to keep her emotions in check. "It doesn't matter anymore, Mattheo. We made our choices."

He sighed, his posture relaxing as he leaned back against the wall. "Maybe. But I can't help but wonder…if we made the right ones."

Her heart clenched at his words, but she forced herself to stay firm. "You can't change the past."

"Maybe not," he conceded, "but the future? That's still up for grabs."

Y/N bit her lip, torn between the desire to walk away and the pull of what could be. The chemistry between them had always been undeniable, a spark that never quite fizzled out, even after they parted ways.

"Why are you saying this now?" she asked, her voice softer, almost vulnerable. "What's changed?"

Mattheo looked at her with a seriousness she hadn't seen before. "I realized that letting you go was a mistake. I've been thinking about it a lot, and I can't shake the feeling that we gave up too easily."

She stared at him, unsure of what to say. Part of her had hoped he would say something like this, while the other part was terrified of reopening old wounds. "Mattheo…"

He stepped closer, his voice low, earnest. "I'm not asking for everything to go back to the way it was. But I am asking for a second chance. To see if we can figure this out, together."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she looked up into his eyes. She saw sincerity there, a glimmer of the boy she had fallen for mixed with the man he was becoming. The future was uncertain, but as she stood there, she realized that maybe, just maybe, it was worth taking the risk.

"Alright," she whispered, barely believing her own words. "One more chance."

A slow, genuine smile spread across Mattheo's face, one that made her heart skip a beat. "One more chance," he echoed, his voice filled with promise.

And as they stood there, in the quiet corridor of Hogwarts, it felt like the beginning of something new—something that had been left unfinished, but was now ready to be written.

[back2bluesidex]

Seven Minutes - KNJ (18+)

Pairing: Namjoon X Reader

Theme: Major Angst, implied smut, fluff if you squint, Time-traveler Namjoon (?)

Wordcount: 1.1k+

Summary: Namjoon goes around the world in a day in just seven minutes.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, cock riding, creampie (it's a no no), death, very angsty, time travelling but not really. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: I don't know what is this honestly. I managed to incorporate rpwp tracks in the story but I hope you guys don't cry. let me know how it is if you want <3

Masterlist | Patreon

The first trail of winter is evident under the soft glow of sun. 

Leaves are starting to turn brown, there is a chill in the early morning air, the last remnants of fog are still clinging to the dust. 

But Namjoon can’t feel a thing, neither the chill nor the foggy air. He is not from this world or timeline after all. 

Namjoon sees himself, the younger version, standing at the bus stop waiting for the vehicle to arrive so he can leave for his first class. 

He used to be so sorted out even in his early twenties but that faded with time. 

And then he sees you, the younger version of you. 

Rushing past him you reach where the younger Namjoon is standing currently. 

You look the same - just so beautiful. 

It is the moment that younger Namjoon fell for you. 

It is the moment everything started. 

When he peeks he sees his younger self stealing glances at you. He smiles at the dumbfoundedness of the younger boy, who is very clearly taken aback with your beauty. 

It was the very moment he fell for you. 

But right now he feels like he has been the wrong person in the right place. 

Only if it were someone else, you probably would have been happier than he had ever managed to make you. 

Everything surrounding Namjoon morphes into black and gradually the scene changes. 

Now he finds himself standing inside a wedding hall.

The wedding hall, where he got tied with you. 

There are familiar faces everywhere, some of the faces he missed seeing, some of the faces he hated seeing, and some he never saw properly in the first place. 

Then his eyes fell on your figure.

You look so divine, so gorgeous that he could start crying right away. 

Your gloved hands are held by another younger version of himself, the one that claimed to be your groom. 

He watches as you two take vows one by one, promising for a forever that he failed to keep.

And then the kiss. 

Namjoon recalls he felt like heaven at that moment. 

You felt like heaven to him.  

Just as before, everything starts morphing into a blackhole again. The scene changes and now he is standing inside your shared bedroom. 

The first thing he sees is the sunkissed smooth skin of your naked back, then his eyes drift down towards your hip. His younger self is clutching onto your waist as if his life depends on it. 

The grunts and moans are mixing with the already tensed air and making things even worse. 

He watches you ride the other him, your tits bouncing with every move you make. 

You have always rode him like a pro, making him go nuts. 

You release, triggering his own climax. He spills into you shamelessly.

“I- I love you so much” his younger self confesses to his freshly wedded wife, you. 

“I love you too, Joon.” you reply ardently. 

The scene changes with another rush of black. 

This time he travels to a much recent time, only two years prior to his own timeline. 

You two are now married for five years already. 

The promises of loving each other have started crumbling down under the weight of busy schedules, unspoken truths and the monotonous routine of everyday life. 

The love his younger self confessed of has turned into a habit. 

He sees you waiting. You are sitting on the couch, staring towards the condo door as if you haven't seen him for years. 

Namjoon wishes you could actually see the current version of himself, who is also desperate to reach out to you now. 

But he knows it’s impossible. He doesn’t belong to this timeline. 

The door opens. Another version of himself walks in, clearly tried and irritated. 

“You’re late again.” your voice comes out thinner than the night-time air. 

Younger Namjoon doesn’t give you a single nod and heads straight towards the bedroom. 

He stands there, watching you as tear drops fall from your eyes one by one, roll down on your cheeks and soon turn into a downpour of heavy emotions. 

Namjoon cries too, even when he can’t feel his own tears. He cries with you nonetheless. 

This is the moment, he realized, he became lost for the rest of his lifetime. 

This time the black is mixed with a little white, making things gray. 

When the next scene appears, he finds himself, younger only by a year, sitting at his desk with his head leaned back and eyes closed. 

You stand before him, crying, sobbing, almost begging. 

The scene breaks his heart. But his younger self had been impressively heartless at that time. 

“What do you mean you fell out of love?” you manage to speak in between the sobs. 

“I said what I feel, Y/N. I need a break.” His younger self adds matter-of-fact-ly. 

He hates it.

How could he be so blind? How could he not see what he was doing to you? How the hell did he manage to be such an asshole? 

You break down at his words. 

Namjoon turns his back at the scene. If he stays in this timeline for a second more, he will lose it. 

And as if granting his prayers, the scene changes. The black nothingness gets even lighter this time. 

Is this a sign of approaching the end of seven minutes? 

This time he finds himself alone, the same one as himself, just a few hours prior. 

He is sitting at an overpriced bar, clutching a whisky in his one hand, clutching his phone to his ear with another. 

He is calling you. 

“Come back to me, Y/N. come back to me.” he murmurs into the call. 

If he remembers correctly, you cut the call as soon as he completed his sentence. You were unwilling to let him break you more, which he understands - appreciates. 

Settings morph into a grayish black for one last time. And now he is back where he is supposed to be. 

Namjoon’s soul stands beside the hospital bed, where his dead body is lying cold. 

You are sitting right beside him, crying your eyes out. 

Crying as if your heart has been ripped off and your blood is flowing ceaselessly. 

Research says the human brain stays active for seven minutes after death to replay memories. 

Is it a coincidence that he started his seven minutes with you and ended it with you? 

Probably not because you have been his world, his most precious gain in life. 

Even though he had caused you so much pain, you never truly left. 

And see… you are here to mourn for his unfortunate, premature death. 

Spending his last seven minutes with you is equivalent to going around the world in a day to him. 

And this way Namjoon can bid you goodbye properly, even when you will never get to know about it. 

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 16

Part 1 Part 15

Steve doesn’t know Eddie well enough to be able to tell if the way he’s bouncing is excitement or nerves. Either way, he’d all but bolted up to sprint to the phone hanging from the wall in the kitchen. It’s an ugly beige and has one of those chords that you can twirl around and around your fingers as you talk.

Steve and Will stand a few paces back, watching as Eddie picks up the phone, and presses it so hard into his ear that he’ll be able to hear the ocean out of it.

Eddie’s bouncing on his toes, but as the seconds tick by, he slows, then stops, heels planted to the ground. He hangs up the phone, hangs his head, planting his palms on the countertop like he needs its support to stay upright.

“He must be at work,” Eddie says.

Steve inches forward, laying his hand on Eddie’s shoulder and squeezing. The other boy takes a shuddering breath, before turning around, shrugging out of Steve’s hold.

“Do you want to try your parents?” he asks, looking Steve’s way.

He swallows the lump in his throat, forcing the words out. “Nah, they’re out of town.” He waves his hand breezily, like he couldn’t care less about his empty house. His absent parents. “Maybe we should try Will’s Mom again?”

Eddie’s eyes look sad and soulful, wet like Bambi’s. But he doesn’t say anything, just turns toward Will who’s still dawdling by the refrigerator. “We should try your Mom again,” he says. “But didn’t you say the Demogorgon came?”

Will wilts, the smile blooming on his face dropping before it’s even fully formed. “I think the phone got fried anyway.”

Steve’s not jealous of a pre-teen. Especially one trapped in a hell dimension being hunted by monsters. That’d be too fucked up to comprehend. “Dude, she loves you,” Steve says. “She definitely bought a new phone within like, thirty seconds.”

Will Byers beams, clearly a Momma’s boy through and through. Steve Harrington is not jealous, really. He’s not.

“How long ago did you talk to your Mom?” Eddie asks.

Will scuffs his already scuffed shoes against the carpet. “This morning, I think,” Will says. “But then the Demogorgon came, and I was running away when you found me.”

He says “found me” like Steve and Eddie are the best thing to ever happen to him. It runs through Steve like an electroshock, sends his skin buzzing in a way he can’t tell whether it’s invigorating or frying him from the inside out.

“Okay, so we should wait a little bit,” Eddie says, walking back and forth in front of them like a general to his soldiers. “Chill on our laurels, get some sleep, and come at this thing fresh eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow when the risk of Demogorgon sighting has gone down.”

Will bounces on his toes, once, twice, three times before seeming to catch himself. Oh, god. There are two of them. Steve may not survive long enough to meet Byers’ Mom, and it won’t be from a Demogorgon attack. It’ll be from two over-enthusiastic nerds.

Steve sighs. “What’re we going to do until then?” Steve asks. “It can’t be bedtime yet, just look at the sun.”

The twin looks of condescension he gets for that one are identical enough that he has to dig his teeth into the laugh that wants to burst out.

But then they look at each other, and it doesn’t seem all that funny anymore. Because Eddie’s smiling like the grinch right before he robbed all the who’s down in Whoville, and Will’s puppy-dog eyes could be charged as a lethal weapon.

“We could play D&D?” Will asks.

Steve groans slapping his hands over his face and rubbing them down harshly, even though the game is sort of fun. Even though it might be more fun with three people. Even though he was sold the moment that Will Byers looked at him with those eyes.

“Fine!” he says, throwing up his hands. “Let’s play your stupid nerd game.”

They gather around the coffee table, Eddie and Will leaning against the couch, Steve an island all on his own on the other side.

“Will, do you DM or should I?” Eddie asks, like the title is something grand to be bestowed upon someone. Like Will just got named Prom King and he’s asking if he wants the crown on his head.

“Maybe you can this time?” he asks, looking up at Eddie through his fringe.

Eddie nods. Steve settles his elbow on the table, sinking his cheek into his palm as the implications of “this time” run through his head.

“What’s your race?” Will asks, eyes glued to Steve.

Steve lifts his brow, shifting his gaze to where Eddie’s cringing away from Will. “We’ve, uh, sort of been playing with training wheels on?” he says, like it’s a question.

“Class?” Will asks, looking horrified. “Stats?” Eddie grimaces. Will sighs, turning back to Steve. “Do you have a character?”

“Sir Steven.”

“He’s definitely a human fighter,” Eddie mumbles, fidgeting with his rings like he’d committed some horrible sin.

“Okay, well, you’re supposed to roll the dice when you create a character so that you know how your character will react to things. Does that make sense?”

Steve nods even though it doesn’t, ignoring the way Eddie scoffs. Will fishes a little bag out of the pocket of his vest, dumping a pile of black dice. Steve recognizes the one with the twenty sides, but there’s a square one, a triangle one, and one shaped like a diamond he’s never seen before. He kind of wants to put them in his mouth, maybe swallow them.

Steve rolls a die for each stat, nodding along like it all makes sense. Eddie runs into his room for paper and a pencil, dutifully writing each number down.

When he passes the paper to Steve, he doesn’t know whether he should be insulted by the number for intelligence or flattered that Munson apparently thinks he’s charismatic. He keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to drop his score any lower.

Steve nods along while they discuss modifiers and alignments, but something of his confusion must show because Will and Eddie dial it back.

Will’s character is some sort of wizard who can cast spells and shit. He talks about his figurine, which Steve deduces is a little action figure like he saw in Munson’s room specific for his character, and the costume his Mom made for him to play, expression faraway.

They play. It’s more complicated this time, and when it becomes clear that Steve is struggling, Will scoots to the other side of the table to help point out which of the dice he should roll and what math he should be doing.

It’s fun, and they kick Xanthar’s ass, even if Steve’s pretty sure Eddie takes it easy on them. He tells himself it’s for Will’s sake, but the glimmer of humor in Eddie’s eyes makes it hard to hold onto that sentiment.

Will’s jaw-cracking yawn as they go over the story (campaign?) signals the end of the night. The poor kid’s eyes are drooping.

“Alright, bedtime for all the kiddies!” Eddie says, jumping up far too energetically for the end of the day they’ve had. “That means you, Harrington.”

The bed’s not big enough for all three of them, and Eddie’s bedroom doesn’t have enough floor space, so they huddle together in the living room. Will takes the couch after a thorough browbeating, huddled under two blankets and what must be Uncle Wayne’s pillow.

Steve and Eddie move the coffee table so they can sleep beside the couch, keeping their bodies between Will and the door. They make a nest of Eddie’s bedding and pillows.

Will’s breathing evens out quickly, poor kid. Steve stares at the ceiling. The silence drills into him until he can almost feel it, making him tense and tense until Eddie scoots close enough that their arms are touching.

The single point of contact seeps warmth into Steve’s bones. He closes his eyes, reveling in it.

“Should we really be wandering around with a child when there’s a monster running around?” Eddie asks, his breath whispering against the shell of Steve’s ear.

With his eyes closed, it’s easy to picture that thing, the Demogorgon. The way it’s claws curved, the way its face opens, and then opens again. The sound it makes. So, no. Steve doesn’t want that thing anywhere near the kid, but—

But.

“We’ve got to get him home, Munson.”

Eddie sighs, breath tickling the flyaways along Steve’s hairline. “Yeah,” he replies. “I guess we do.”

Steve falls asleep before Eddie moves back away, that single point of warmth following him into his dreams.

Part 17

[rivetingrosie4]

What a Life (Morgan & Family: A Fluff Dump, Pt. 2)

credit to @foundynnel i believe for 2 of the edits above

𑁦𐂂𑁦

RDR2 | Arthur Morgan x Female Reader | Rating: General | tumblr masterlist | Ao3 | Part 1

Summary: Part of a modern au (and post gang) fluff dump work. Just a scene in which Arthur and reader enjoy secluded family life with their very young son. Arthur is a cute and loving dad and is adored by reader.

Tags: fluff without plot, family fluff, romantic fluff, domestic setting, parenthood

Word count: 2,660

In the cool shadow of the cabin, thrown long by the late morning sun, you sit with your little son, watching him play in the sandbox. The mourning dove’s rounded, plaintive hoots are parried by the sharp, tinkling warbles of goldfinches in the nearby pine branches, and the fragrances of crisp mist and thick sod linger in the mountain air.

You watch the faint glimmer of day paint the crests of Gabriel’s cupid’s bow with light, his plump lips resting between his two rotund cheeks as he concentrates on the toys before him. The wispy feathers of his splayed lashes bow and rise with each blink. His beautiful, shimmering eyes inspect each toy, each color, each shape. Out of all the blocks, large puzzle pieces, rings, balls, and animal toys half-buried in the sand, he has landed on one. You watch the bulbous pads and segments of each tiny, clumsy finger curl to a strong, stable grasp around the edge of the object of his aim—a large block with an Appaloosa sketched and painted lovingly on the side.

“Just like your daddy,” you whisper to yourself.

Dipping your fingers into the sand and feeling its chill envelop your skin, you look up with a smile to gaze in the direction of the stables. In the distance, you catch sight of Arthur hauling a huge saddle and its accompanying tack, a moment before he disappears through the door and into the shaded interior.

You recall the quiet rustling of his rising this morning when he’d been up before the sun, as he often is. And the way he’d kept from waking the baby in his room, intentionally leaving you to reap the reward of your son’s customary gleeful smile, his bounce in his crib, and his lifting of his arms for you.

You turn back to your eleven-month-old with a burgeoning smirk. “Wanna come help Mama make some sourdough?”

“Yeah,” he immediately chirps, recognizing nothing but the lilt of a question in your voice. But he doesn’t look up at you, still captured by the blocks and puzzle pieces.

You stand and take a few steps away to prompt him. “Well let’s go!” you call.

He braces himself on the sand with his palms, a moment later lifting his tush into the air. When he straightens, his brows knot, and his lips dangle from between his cheeks as he gazes down confoundedly at the discomfort of sand stuck to his flesh.

You snort a laugh as you cover the sandbox behind him. “Just go like this, Gabe Baby.”

You show him your flattened hands and slowly brush them together.

His brows don’t budge as he looks back and forth from your hands to his own, unable to fully brush them.

“Like this,” you whisper, gently taking his wrists and swiftly brushing his palms back and forth over each other.

When the sand is removed, he toddles to follow you up towards the cabin, and you carry him when you reach the oak staircase to the back door.

As you turn onto the wraparound porch, you notice Arthur now hefting a huge bale of hay by its cords into the stable, his black leather hat shading most of his face in the distance. But you like to imagine he wears a subconscious smile, now enjoying a life of simplicity, filled with nature and horses and art and family and love, tucked away from the gnarled heartache that gang life had left in its wake.

“Sandy baby,” you mumble when you arrive inside and close the back door behind you.

You promptly remove both your shoes and strip Gabriel to his diaper, tossing his sandy clothes into the hamper.

“Are you dry?” you ask vainly as he starts to toddle away. “Wait, are you dry?” You deftly hook a finger down his back and into his diaper before he can fully get away.

Peering into his diaper, you find no present. You carefully squeeze his bottom to discover no liquid deposit.

When you release him, he immediately darts down the hall. You follow and walk into the kitchen, beckoning him to join you. When he does and you bend to pick him up, he whines to be allowed to remain standing on his own.

“Well how’re you gonna see from down there?” you lightly ask.

When he shakes his head, you half-frown. It was just a couple weeks ago that eleven-month-old Gabriel began walking. Since then, he’s always wriggling out of your arms and dashing across rooms, seemingly already excited to be as independent as he can be.

At first, it stung. With the love and special intimacy of mother and son—and with even the chemistry and well-being of your bodies both dependent on the other—the two of you had been closer than peas in a pod, glued at the hip for so long. It’s always been and still is a precious bond to you, though its daily aspects continue to gradually change. And it was hard to so suddenly feel a little unneeded. But Arthur has helped you find a comfort in the balance of realizing that your feelings are only natural, and that you’ve been raising a wonderful and healthy little boy, with this change as just another bit of proof.

As well as the fact that Gabriel still likes to cherry-pick when he’s carried and when he walks on his own. You suspect that like any human, his adamant desire for independence doesn’t do one thing to hinder his deep enjoyment and fierce need of being held.

So you turn and begin pulling ingredients and dishes from the cupboard, at last going to the fridge to retrieve your sourdough starter. You begin mixing ingredients in your big bowl atop the counter, when you hear a whimper and feel a few hard tugs at your palazzos. And you smirk.

You glance down to find him with arms outstretched and upheld for you, bouncing on his tiptoes with longing. You stoop and lift him to you, hugging him to your hip and pressing a few kisses soundly to his smooth cheek.

Describing each action aloud to him, you finish mixing, dust the countertop with copious amounts of flour, and turn the bowl with your free hand to dump the dough.

“Now we knead,” you almost sing, in hushed tones.

Perched on your hip, his plump little arm drapes with familiarity and utmost contentedness over the back of your shoulder. He watches your every gesture with a mixture of restful curiosity and heightened interest.

You push the dough away and pull it towards you again and again, tucking the edges underneath as you do, to form a smooth, rounded surface on top.

“You wanna feel it? You wanna knead?” you ask.

Leaning forward, you let him reach and press his tiny hand into the supple surface of the cool dough.

“Gentle,” you say, showing him the way you keep your fingers outstretched and softly brush and pat the surface of the dough with the pads of your fingertips. “No squeezing.”

The two of you watch his little fingers delve into the pliant mass of dough, leaving a mark of small craters. When they begin to slowly bounce back, you watch his face instead of the dough.

He releases a single cooed sigh of delight as he looks at you with a bright smile, which you heartily return.

How you love, you love, you love him.

You sprinkle the dough with flour and rest it in a basket for its turn to prove. After fetching a dough you’d left proving hours before, you carefully score it with one long slice for expansion, and several small strokes for a quaint wheat kernel design on the other side.

“Mama.” Gabriel pats your sternum and rests a couple fingers past his lips.

“You hungry?” you ask.

When he nods, you brush a hand down the slope of the back of his head and kiss his temple. You add as you set him to his feet, “Let me get this in the oven, then I’ll feed you.”

After setting the parchment-papered sourdough in its cast iron dutch oven and pouring a bain marie past the paper, you place the whole thing in the oven and set a timer. You glance at the oven window with a small smile, eager to see the crispy crust on your extra-sour boule. Since you first noticed its resemblance to Gabriel’s tummy, you’ve made a tradition of kissing the top of the boule, then indelicately turning Gabriel sideways in your arms and blowing a raspberry on his bare belly, making him cackle hysterically. These days, he’s even begun giggling when you turn him in your arms and before you ever kiss his belly, already tickled by the anticipation alone.

With Gabriel in tow, you walk to the couch in the living room. Gabriel rests both arms over the seat cushion and tries to lift one leg up over the edge, but you reach your hands under his arms and pull him into your lap.

Just before you unhook your bra from its strap to nurse, the two of you hear the back door open.

Gabriel’s eyes widen, and a grin begins to pull on the corners of his mouth. “Da,” he says.

He wiggles down off the couch, and as he toddles down the hall, you listen to his bare little feet patting quietly along the hardwood floor. You smile to yourself at the precious sound, so deeply dear to you.

As you hear Arthur’s rustling, jingling presence in the doorway and the naturally firm, heavy footfalls of his work boots, you imagine him resting his black hat on the wall as his small son comes around the corner in only his diaper, bared rounded belly and all.

When you hear the playful growl and the resultant squeal and cackle, your grin splits wider.

“You’re in your nethers, baby boah!”

You can detect the pinch of a smile in Arthur’s voice and the breath of laughter with the last couple words.

More little pads of bare feet as Gabriel comes running back around the corner and down the hall. He hesitates as he toddles, turning back to ensure Arthur’s tailing, eager to play this game with his father.

Still, when Arthur leans around the corner and pulls an exaggeratedly silly face with an outright grunt, Gabriel’s little body gives a tiny jump. His squeal and adorable laughter ring out into the air. He clumsily darts into the kitchen.

When his father follows with a few long strides and the sturdy clops of his boots, he brings with him the musty scents of alfalfa hay and tanned rawhide, of trail dust and undiluted sunshine. And the two subsequently begin an elaborate game of peek-a-boo, back and forth around the island. You can’t help but laugh along at the purest sound of undiluted joy—the beauty and innocence of your own child so easily tickled and contented by life and love—as you turn on the couch and watch the pair. No matter how many times Arthur jumps out to stop him with a silly face and a low hoot or growl, Gabriel instantly screams and squeals, his body utterly racked with tightly coiled cackles.

Arthur wheezes and snickers every time.

“Oh my God, listen to him!” you laugh.

It’s always another several seconds before Gabriel totally recovers and manages to catch his breath, his laughter smoothing with each heave of air.

With the next turn of their game, Arthur lingers behind the island when Gabriel rounds it, not jumping out even when his son takes reticent steps forward, looking for him. Arthur continues to linger, even quietly backing up to hide himself, watching his son for the right moment to strike.

Finally Arthur leaps out, and Gabriel jumps with the highest squeal and loudest cackles you’ve heard yet.

You and Arthur both burst with your own laughter at his reaction.

When your son’s breathing finally evens, you call, “Gabriel, I thought you were hungry?”

“Oh, were you about to eat, son?” Arthur asks in his deep timbre. “You hungry?”

Gabriel nods and pats a hand to his belly above the rim of his diaper.

“Well, better go see Mama,” Arthur quietly grunts as he picks his son up by the underarms and sets him on his hip out of habit. Arthur lifts him over the couch back and sets him down into your lap, then remains behind the couch himself, watching over your shoulder.

After cushioning your back and adjusting him in your arms, you reach beneath your tee, unhook the front of your bra, and gently bring Gabriel to your breast to nurse. He latches on immediately, very well accustomed to your routine. A certain profound peace washes over you as you watch him. His lips flange around you as he suckles; his quiet breaths through his nose briefly pause each time he swallows; and his plump little arm rests wistfully over your chest.

Many people may look away, abashed and discomfited, unable to fit something at once both so innocent and intimate into their world. But it’s always made perfect sense to you. And maybe motherhood was a dream too quaint, one not rebellious or modern enough, seemingly not daring or adventurous enough. But it was your dream.

When Gabriel spots Arthur’s face over your shoulder, he pulls away from your breast with a growingly wry grin, clearly expecting to continue the game from moments ago. Droplets of your milk spill between you and his mouth as he voices a syllable and lifts his arm, attempting to goad Arthur into another silly face.

Arthur silently complies with cross-eyes and a sideways tongue.

Gabriel promptly giggles, and the two of you smile and chuckle at the sound.

“Don’t while he’s nursing, he’ll choke,” you lightly say.

After softly cooing and corralling Gabriel back to his feeding, you continue watching him with a contented smile. You brush your hand down over the back of his head, into the growing downy hair that curls funnily at the base of his neck. As he closes his eyes, you brush the backs of your curled fingers down over his temple, and gently trail your fingertips across the velvet flower-petal skin of his plump baby cheek.

You hear the long, relaxed sound of Arthur’s husky breath over your shoulder, a sound you know very well, especially these days.

“What a life, huh?” he quietly says.

He means to facetiously point out Gabriel’s current lot—nursing at his mother’s breast with his father at the ready to make him smile and laugh. That is, a life full of love and joy, well taken care of, and absent of a care in the world. Just as he should be for now.

It doesn’t take you a few moments, and you’re turning to look into Arthur’s cerulean-sage eyes. A knowingness resides in your gaze. Because you yourself, as well as your husband, have been given all you’d so deeply and totally longed for—and longed, a word too weak—more than you could’ve ever imagined you’d actually live to get.

“Yeah,” you quietly, pensively respond. “What a life.”

The love of your life holds your gaze, and understands.

Your love and gratefulness are immeasurable and uncontainable, filling you and stretching past the bounds of your body and being, like fragmented granules of glittering dust floating from a burst star.

Strangely enough, even with all the joy and contentment and peace, the words and the shared gaze are not without a mingling of loss and ache.

They are not gone entirely. But you both have someone now, to join you in weathering them.

You are not alone.

Arthur leans to you, and you share a few kisses, soft as breath. You turn and close your eyes a moment as he rests his forehead to your temple. And you both gaze down at your son with contented smiles.

[jessi4fanfics]

~Absolutely Perfect~

|BROPPY AS PARENTS!!! I have writers block and usually parent broppy aus help me keep up with my oneshots CUZ THEY WOULD BE CUTE PARENTS:33 Its costly centered around Branch tho:) Ivy and Oakley are ocs by @spooky-pop ⭐ (btw, Spooky, if you want me to take this story down, feel free to tell me and I will do it right away❤) Pwease enjoy✨|

It was a quiet and chill morning. Ya know, those kinds that just only seem to happen on your birthday or Christmas or even a lucky Saturday when you go "ah, no work, no worries, and I get to sleep in. Perfect".

Branch could feel the sun shining through his eyelids in a more comforting way than annoying through the window, and the plush soft and cool covers and sheets covering him, his right foot being slightly cooled by the breeze coming from the fan above them.

He wasn't moving though. Heck no. He was half asleep still anyway, and he was already trying to make himself fall back asleep.

Branch smiled through his drowsiness, eyes still shut. Despite how comforting his bed was, the feeling of his wife's hand holding his underneath the covers, her head laying over his arm, her crazy morning hair brushing against his cheek as she leaned against him was more what was making this morning seem so perfect.

Her slow deep sleeping breaths were enough of a song to drift him back to sleep...

"DADDDDDD!!!!"

 A pounce, a bounce, and Branch felt his leg crack as a child landed on top of it.

 "Owww!!" He bolted up, knowing sleep for the morning was gone. He felt his leg. "Ivy!!! Please don't break my leg!!"

 His daughter gave him that grin he only knew too well, a grin her mother gave him often as well.

It meant affection. But it also meant destruction.

 "Your leg is finnnee. It gave the same kind of crack my fingers give when I do this!" Ivy took her right hand and started pulling the fingers on her left hand with it. After each pull came a pop!

 "Ivy! Stop!!" Branch covered his ears. "That sound is disgusting and probably unhealthy!" 

Ivy chuckled and climbed up to him, wrapping him in a hug. "I love you, Dad."

 Branch gratefully returned the hug, but have her a skeptical look. She definitely was up to something.

 "I love you too, Ivy," he sighed, eyebrows still raised.

 Ivy looked up at him. "And you know what?"

 "Hmm?"

 "It's time for your birthday noogies!!!" Ivy shrieked happily.

Birthday--?!!

Before Branch could process this, Ivy jumped up, standing on their bed, wrapped her arms around his head, and used her right hand to scrape her fist hard against his already ruffled morning hair, into his noggin.

 "Ivy!! Ow, stoppit!!" Branch tried to push her off, unsuccessfully.

Ivy cackled, continuing.

Branch heard a giggle from beside him. Poppy had sat up now, and she was watching her husband get attacked by his own daughter with so much joy in her eyes--

 "Oh sure - ow! Just sit there and enjoy the show! Ivy!!! That's a knot, owowow!" Branch winced from the pain.

 "I'm sorry," Poppy croaked sleepily, still giggling . "Ivy, honey, get off of your dad, please."

 "But I have to do a boogie for each year of his life!" Ivy groaned, taking a small break. "And- whew! That's gonna take awhile," she murdered jokingly, patting him on the head.

 "Oh, really??" Branch scoffed, reached out, grabbed his daughter by the waist, pulled her down and began to tickle her.

 Her laughs were exactly like her mom's. Branch loved to hear them.

When her laughs became more like shrieks, he stopped. "No one calls me an old man." He sat back smirking proudly.I

 "You did that yourself," Ivy shot back smartly, grinning and out of breath.

Branch lifted an eyebrow threateningly and reached out once again.

Ivy shrieked and fell off the bed trying to avoid him.

 "You okay?" Branch peeked over.

 Ivy just laughed from the floor.

Of course she was fine. She was Ivy.

Poppy laughed and took Branch's arm gently in her hands. "Honey, quiet down, you're gonna wake--"

In came Oakley, his hair just as disheveled as his parents. He was carrying his blankie and his eyelids were still dark from sleep. He said groggily, "What's happening?"

 Ivy shot up. "I was noogie-ing Dad."

Branch rolled his eyes.

Oakley frowned, disapproving. "Noogie-ing is not very nice, sissy."

"PFFTTT!" Ivy waved her brother away and stood back up.

Poppy laughed and held out her arms. "C'mere, pumpkin."

The young orange troll scuffled over to his mom. He climbed into her lap and she wrapped her arms around him, rocking him back and forth.

"You see, Oak, it's some trolls' traditions to give people noogies on their birthday. Uncle John Dory does it to your daddy all the time, which is probably where your sissy got it." Poppy looked at her daughter, who nodded proudly.

John Dory was only her favorite uncle.

"Birthday?!" Oakley sat up, his ears twitching. He looked at his dad, who was now massaging his scalp, which he believed was now completely red under his crazy hair.

"Yup." Poppy grinned and turned to Branch affectionately . "It's your dad's birthday. And he has absolutely no work today, Mommy made sure of that." Her eyes twinkled excitedly.

"Whoa, no work?" Branch looked at her, alarmed. "You aren't about to do all of my jobs, Poppy. It's a crazy list of king duties, and your list is already long, and I wouldn't want--"

"I have no work too." Poppy beamed happily. "The leaders told me  they have it all under control." 

Branch watched her, surprised. No work? He had been doing his king stuff and his boyband work combined since the day after he and Poppy returned from their honeymoon.

"Wow. Poppy, honey, that's so sweet, I can't believe you--" he began, leaning closer to her.

"BIRTHDAY PUNCHES!!" Oakley shrieked. He jumped out of Poppy's lap he hurled himself at his father, and gave him a form punch in the side.

"Ow!!!" Branch wrapped his arms around his torso. "Oakley!"

Poppy laughed. "Branch, you're so sensitive!"

Branch scowled. "I'm not sensitive, I-- ow!!! Ivy! Stop encouraging!"

They were both punching their dad now.

"Uncle John told us to punch you as many years as you have lived, " Oakley stated importantly. "He said I had to do this otherwise you would explode!" He continued punching while Ivy laughed.

"Of course he told you that, " Branch groaned.

"How old are you, Daddy?" Oakley asked.

"I'm sure you've punched me at least fifty times already, Oak!" Branch grabbed their fists and held them away from him.

 "Fifty? Hmm." Ivy pretended to think. "Only thirty more punches to go, Oakley!"

 Oakley cheered and got ready to punch again.

"What?! Nooo, I'm not eighty!" Branch said, holding him back.

"You're not?!" Oakley gasped. "Wow, you must be ancient!"

Poppy was full-on belly laughing now. Branch glared at his son.

"I'm younger than fifty," he told him.

"How much younger?" Ivy teased.

"Alright! That's it! " Branch stood up, grabbed Oakly and hurled him over his shoulder, grabbed Ivy and did the same, and dragged them over to the couch in the living room where he plopped them. "Stay."

They both giggled.

"Or what?" challenged Ivy.

"Or your mom and I can't get dressed and take you out for donuts, " Branch said casually, walking away.

"DONUTS!!" the kids shrieked with excitement. They rushed to their dad and hugged him before he went into his room. Then they dashed off to get dressed themselves.

Branch marched into his room, a slight smirk on his face, and shut the door firmly behind him, locking it. And he plopped back in bed beside Poppy, who was still sitting there, smiling, and pulled the covers over his head.

"So?" she asked, rubbing her hand over his stomach through the sheets.

"Apparently we're taking them out to donuts, " Branch said through the blanket.

Poppy frowned. "You hate donuts."

 "And?"

 "You aren't about to take us to a donut place on your birthday, Branch."

 "Says who?" Branch sat up defiantly. "You guys love donuts. I think I can gift myself with seeing you guys heavily enjoy yourselves, thank you very much." He pecked her cheek tenderly.

Poppy smiled even bigger. Then the smile got a bit wobbly.

Suddenly, looking away quickly, she gave a sniff.

Branch immediately was on alert. He turned her chin to face him. "What's wrong? Poppy are you...crying??!"

What had he done, what did he do--?!!!

Poppy's smile got even more wobbly as she felt the tears slide down her cheeks. She giggled. "I know it's stupid for me to cry over," she sniffled, "but you are such an amazing part of this family, Branch. You don't realize how lucky we are. Even through your mistakes, you are our rock. Great fathers aren't just amazing people, they are also great examples. Sometimes of what not to do," she chuckled.

She leaned her forehead against his. "But that's what you are to us. Everything we could ever need."

Branch smiled, wiping her tears with his thumb, swiping it across her cheek.

"You know-- you made me like this."

The chuckle that came from him made her melt inside. "Well, it was a team effort."

"DONUTS! DONUTS!" the kids shrieked from outside their door. "DADDY WE'RE READYYY!!"

Branch laughed and got up. "Just a minute!!" He turned back to her from his closet. " You're sure nothing else is bothering you?"

Poppy shook her head happily from the bed. "Everything is absolutely perfect."

You are absolutely perfect.

Happy Birthday My Rock.

MWHAHAHAHA CHEESYYYYY (again) I need to work on my cheesy endings😭. But hope you enjoyed, I loved writing it! I hope it cured my writing block!💀 Hearts!!

[fishermanshook]

ASK: sooo you mentioned that you wanted someone to ask for ganji or orpheus smut so here i am 😆😆 so, general ganji smut hcs? or maybe just sfw nsfw hcs of taking a bath with him? or perhaps first time hcs? Soooo many ideas

requester: @ch6douin

HOLD ME TIGHT AND DON'T LET GO

(batter , novelist x gn!reader) separate [N]SFW hc’s

# MINOR WRITING SMUT ⚠️ , reader is gn , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

What’s more intimate than bathing together under the moonlight? Holding each other in your arms, as the other shakes and cries from the overstimulation you’ve caused to their body. Seeing you, their darling, twitch, and moan from the pleasure they give you is something they need engraved in their mind and memory.

How can they help themselves when you look so stunning right now?

꒰wc꒱ 1.3k

The Batter

SFW

Getting close to the Batter is an accomplishment in itself, but establishing a relationship with him earns you some bragging rights. Ganji’s emotional (and physical?) walls are literal fortresses in themself, so to have a relationship with him takes time, patience, and communication. The more the two of you talk, the fewer bumps there will be.

Once the two of you start dating it will be a lot smoother from there on out.

In the early stages of your relationship, if you were trying to bathe alongside him, Ganji is automatically shutting it down. He’s not comfortable doing something that he finds so intimate already and he’d rather do it later in the relationship.

When he does find your relationship solidified, he asks you if you would like to join him in the bath. Where the sun pours in from the windows and gleams across your skin. It feels nice to be this close to his, with your chest against his. Skin to skin. Heart to heart.

Ganji might ask you to wash his hair, or, as long as your hands aren't wet, run your fingers through his hair. It's such a soothing thing for the man that he could fall asleep if he weren’t in the bath.

But on certain and rare occasions, the Batter may or may not find it harder than usual to keep focus. Especially when your ass is pressed right against his— oh god. He might explode if he doesn’t have his way with you right now.

[N]SFW

“Fuck, Ganji! Yes right there!” the words spilled out of your mouth as the Batter pumped his dick in and out of you. You should’ve become numb to any feeling down there, but it’s your 5th round and you swear the twitching of his cock becomes even more prominent with every thrust.

The Batter seems to have an unwavering stamina, but you sense his tiredness growing in every thrust. Yet he keeps it up. He can’t get the image of you bouncing up and down on him out of his brain, and he wishes to soak up the memory and feeling before your touch eventually wilts away.

“Tell me I feel good, love,” Ganji whispers in your ear with that deep, raspy voice that you love. It never fails to send chills down your spine as you moan out his name and praise him like it’s going out of style.

“You so amazing darling,! Fill me up so good, ugh please keep going,” you groan out as his name continues to spill from your mouth like a mantra. You take him so well, your eyes filled with lust and love.

Ganji senses that you're about to reach your climax, and he’s not far behind you. It seems only now you realize that his hips have started to meet yours in a lustful rhythm neither of you want to end. With a final kiss, you moan out his name one last time before coming.

“Yes darling— come for me,” Ganji says as you come undone on his cock, coating his in your essence once more. The Batter eventually thrusts into you sucking in a breath of air as he follows suit.

The aftermath leaves both of you tired and drowsy. Using the last bit of your energy, you help clean up Ganji and yourself before making the trek back to your shared bed.

“I love you,” Ganji states as he lays a gentle kiss on your forehead. You hummed back in response, closing your eyes to get some well-deserved rest.

Aftercare is an obvious must. It doesn’t matter how tired he is Ganji will help clean you up. So while it doesn’t explicitly state that here, he did make sure to help wipe you down.

Ganji just wants to make you feel good, but also won’t deny pleasure as a response. As long as you feel like you're going to burst, he’ll feel good too.

The Novelist

SWF

The Novelist isn’t one to trust easily, let alone fall in love as quickly as he did. He’s quick to judge others on their behavior and who they surround themselves with. You must’ve made an amazing first impression on him, as it’s become a lasting one even months later.

Orpheus finds himself confessing to you using a heartfelt letter that took him weeks to write. Don’t believe him? Then maybe the crumbled drafts decorating his bedroom floor will convince you otherwise.

Regarding bathing together, he’s not entirely against the idea. Orpheus thinks just that preferably, he’d want to do it later on in the relationship when trust has further been built. He’s not rushing to have you with him in the bath, and it doesn’t seem like you are either.

Although, he can’t deny the pleasant thought of holding you oh so close to him. A glass of red wine is held in your hands as he massages out any areas of tension across your back and other areas. To have you wash his hair and try (miserably) to keep the soap out of his eyes.

It’s all adorable to think of, which leaves him to inviting you into the tub more often than not. As you lay on his chest, hands intertwined, he can’t stop thinking about how lucky he is to have you.

This time though, the rose petals and candles that decorate the bathroom floor tell a different story. Leaving you to wonder if Orpheus had ever written something like this before.

[N]SFW

Orpheus wants the both of you to feel good, which is why he refuses to stop when you're begging him to. He works away at your neck first, covering it in hickeys as his fingers twist and pinch your nipples.

“Orpheus please— need you so badly,” you whine into his ear as he pulls away from your hickey-covered neck to face you.

“But darling I thought you wanted this,” Orpheus states as he presses kisses along your jawline before finally moving inside you. Drawing a low moan from you as he pushes himself inside. “Shit, always so tight for me no matter how many times I do this huh?”

It doesn’t matter how many times the two of you do this, he always makes you feel too good for words to describe. He touches all the sensitive parts, kisses all the right spots, and always hits the right spot. His accuracy is precise and has you coming in no time.

Your wet hands glide through his hair and pull his head towards yours. In other situations, he’d pull your hand away and sulk because “now my hair is soaking”. Now though, he wouldn’t want anything else but to have his face against yours. To listen to the melodies that fall from your mouth. To hear his name fall from your lips.

“Come on daring, lemme hear more of you.” Orpheus managed to grunt out as he pounds into you, the water and soap around you creating waves around you.

“Feel so good—Orpheus I want all of you!” You shout out as you scratch and claw at his back. Your neck and collarbone are littered with hickeys and warm spots from where his soft lips were earlier.

Sooner or later, you're gushing from his cock. Your back arched in a way that has him drooling from his mouth and shooting loads into you that feel like they'll never stop.

Once the situation has calmed down, he'll help clean up and tuck the two of you into bed. With a final kiss to the lips and a shared "I love you" goodnight, you two drift far off into sleep.

Orpheus is a gentleman at heart, but despite that, he'll tease you a bit before giving you what you want. It's always worth it in the end and always makes the experience just 10 times more pleasurable for both of you. 

note: hi poookieeee,,,, apology’s for how long this was left in my drafts 🌝 hope your happy with this sjsjajakqllemsc

(2024)©️fishermanshook — do not steal, translate, plagiarize, or repost my work on any other platform

[whiskeyghoul]

Coloring pages || [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A/N: This has been stuck in my mind for weeks now and I needed to put it down. This is the first fic I had proof read by someone! Enjoy and please like and reblog when you do. 

Tags: Fluff, tooth rotting fluff, just fluff, coloring pages, spencer reid x gn!reader I think.

You stood outside of the Quantico building, leaning against the side of your car. The air had the early autumn chill, it wasn't cold but your oversized sweater sure made it a lot more bearable to be outside of the car for an extended period. You were waiting for your date to be finished with his work. Boyfriend. You corrected yourself internally. Boyfriend of 6 weeks, 3 days and 5 hours to be exact. Which, with Spencer as your boyfriend you had to be.

He is handsome, kind and so incredibly intelligent it is sometimes just a tad frustrating. His rambles were interesting and you could probably listen to him for hours on end. You also wanted to spend time together just enjoying each other's company. Being together, that was your type of love. The affirming touches that the other was there. The comfortable silence you enjoyed so much where you could hear soft intakes of breaths. Glances at one another to confirm that the other was still there. You loved when Spencer had invited you over to his apartment once, he still had some work to finish so you'd picked up a book from the many shelves and made yourself comfortable on his worn couch. You had looked up from the book and over to him, seen him deep in thought as he looked at the lines of writing, jotting down notes next to it. His brow slightly furrowed, lips pursed ever so slightly as he thought particularly hard. Completely unaware of your admirations of him from the couch. That's what you liked.

People began filing out of the building as the sun set, you watched and watched to catch the first sign of Spencer. When you did see that messy brown hair bounce slightly as he walked down the steps a smile spread across his face. You mirrored his expression, every time you saw him it brought a smile to your lips. A gust of wind picked up, ruffling his hair even further as he bound over his long strides causing him to stand before you in, what felt like, mere seconds. "Hey." He said softly. His hand reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear that had been swept up by the wind. His fingertip grazed the side of your temple. "Hi." You returned just as softly. "How was work?" You asked as you looked into those big, brown eyes. They were filled with warmth as he looked into yours. "It was good, no new cases which I was hoping for since I wanted to see you." Spencer spoke his emotions as he pulled his hand away. "Good, because I have something planned." You said with a smile, turning on your heels and walking back to the driver's side.

"You have something planned?" Spencer asked as he quickly dove into the passenger seat. Tucking his bag between his feet. "I do." You say as you put the seatbelt on, feeling his eyes on your profile. "Can I know?" He asked, impatiently tapping his fingers against his thighs, an air of excitement surrounding him. "Not yet. It's a surprise." Your voice sounds melodic, sing-song-y even, on the last sentence as you turned the key and started up the car. "Tell me more about your day." You say as the music over the speakers softly filled the car and the heater worked to warm your cold tinged hands.

Spencer had talked about his day, you were intermittently interrupting him with questions before he asked about your day. You were still going on about a coworker who had annoyed you when you parked the car in front of your destination. The bookstore and café combo where you had your first date. You got out and quickly snatched the tote bag you had haphazardly laid on the backseat before turning back to Spencer. "The bookstore? Why are we here?" He looked at you quizzically. You rolled your eyes playfully and put the tote bag over your shoulder. "Because we're going for coffee." You answered and held out your hand which he took. You saw his eyes dart towards the tote bag, that soft crease between his eyebrows forming as he pictured all the possibilities of what its contents could be. “Coffee at 5 P.M.? You know that feeling unaffected by caffeine could be a sign of a genetic difference or you have built an increasingly large tolerance. This could be a problem once you start ingesting dangerous amounts of caffeine unbeknownst to you.” Spencer rambled as you entered the coffee shop. You rolled your eyes playfully, “I’ll get a tea then.” you say as you get hit by the smell of fresh brewed coffee, pastries and books. There was music softly playing in the background. The shop was warm.

Pulling Spencer along to the table where your first date had been, you sat down, shedding your fall jacket and hanging it on the back of the chair. The tote bag was placed on the table, only a slight peak of its contents spilling out. Spencer’s eyes darted to it, wanting to know what you had planned and why you were being so secretive. Quickly, your hand found its way to cover the contents, pressing the tote bag shut. “After we get our drinks.” You teased, there was a sparkle in your eyes, seeing him this interested in what you were planning made it all the more fun to keep him in the dark.

“Really? Can’t you just tell me?” Spencer questioned, giving you the most pleading eyes he could muster in that moment, you were surprised he didn’t pout at you. Just then the waitress came over, taking your coffee and tea orders before walking back behind the bar. When you had looked at her Spencer seemed to have taken his chance and snuck a peek inside of the bag, before you knew it he was pulling out a set of colored pencils. “Spencer!” You admonished playfully, snatching the colored pencils out of his hand and sticking them back in the bag. “What? I was just curious.” He played innocent, giving that sweet smile he knew made you weak. “You brought colored pencils?” He tilted his head slightly, his soft curls falling away from his face. You reached out across the table, tucking a stray curl behind his ear like he had done with you before, “I did.” Your answer came with a soft sigh before folding the tote bag slightly open and pulling out the matching set of colored pencils and a book of coloring pages. “I guess the cat is out of the bag.”

“Why did you bring coloring pages?” Spencer looked confused at the book, flipping through the blank pages filled with outlines of forest scenes and insects. An amused smile on his lips, “Aren’t we too old for that?” He asked, his tone was a slight teasing one. You know he didn’t mean it to be hurtful at that moment, but still he didn’t seem as excited about it as you were. You bit your lip, holding back the twinge of disappointment that shot through your heart.

“I thought it would be fun to do something together. It’s not a children's coloring book, but you know… I wanted to work on a page together, so we have something we both did.” Your voice had an edge to it, the disappointment you tried to hide still managed to bubble its way to the top. It felt horrible, that such a little thing could make this big of an impact. Your hands fidgeted with the end of your sweater, picking at the sleeve with a hint of defeat. Eyes cast down on the table. “Woah, hey, wait no I- I didn’t mean anything bad- I just-” Spencer stumbled over his words, quickly reaching his hand across the table to hold yours. Moving his thumb soothingly across the back of your hand. “If you want to, we will. It looks fun. Really.” He corrected himself, his eyes finding yours. You could see the hint of regret at his earlier words, his sincerity in his current ones. The disappointment still lingered, but the warmth from his hand was quickly spreading through your body to wash away any doubt. “Really?” You asked again, wanting the extra confirmation. You attempted a smile, it was half hearted still but at least it was somewhat reassuring to yourself. “Really, I just get to pick what we’re working on.” Spencer smiled back, giving your hand a soft squeeze before letting go to pick up the book again.

You watched Spencer flip through, taking a quick look at the different pages until he found one to his liking. Placing the book open on the table, a flowery field with butterflies and bumble bees. “This one.” he said, looking to you for confirmation like he could make the wrong choice. “That’s perfect.” Your voice was soft, still trying to get over the disappointment from before. It was nearly gone, leaving you with mostly warmth in your heart. You grabbed the two sets of colored pencils, opening them, and setting them out on the table. Just then your drinks were brought out, a chai latte for you after Spencer’s comment about caffeine, he still had a cappuccino which made you smile a bit. You handed a set of pencils to Spencer before picking up your chai and taking a tentative sip. It was hot but delicious. 

“Alright, so how do we start?” Spencer asked, looking at the page then back at you. “I want to color it together. You can start over on your side, I start on mine, meet in the middle?” You said, placing your cup back down. “Won’t it be mismatched? should we at least have the same color green for the stems?” He suggested, suddenly seeming a bit more into it than he had been before. “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. The same blue for the sky too?” You added, opening your own set of pencils. You picked out a blue, matching it with one from Spencer's set. He did the same with the green, handing you the matching pencil with a smile. “Let’s get coloring then.” He said before turning his attention to the paper. You followed suit, touching the colored pencil to the paper and began to fill in the white space.

You kept picking up pencils, filling in the flowers with different colors, sometimes your hand would meet with Spencer’s while drawing and he’d look up with a smile. Soft bumps and touches that affirmed you were both there. Light chuckles and laughter with your coloring interrupted by each other. Your heart fluttered at how he had thrown all his earlier judgment aside to make you happy. Looking up he was focused, smiling at the paper as he decided what colors would fit best. Sometimes asking for your opinion. Intermittently his drawing was interrupted by sips of coffee. Wiping the residue off of his lips with his sleeve before going back to the page.  The way he was focused was cute, hairs falling in front of his eyes, a grin on his face as he gave in to the childlike whimsy of doing a coloring page. It was refreshing to see him with his shoulders relaxed, focusing on anything but words. Letting the surrounding sounds of the shop take over. Slowly you felt yourself be more and more focused on Spencer rather than the drawing. Once he noticed, he looked up, the smile still plastered on his face, “What?” he laughed out the question. One of the more beautiful sounds you’ve heard, though you wouldn’t tell him that. You shook your head no, laughing softly “Nothing.” You answered with a genuine smile. “There’s something.” Spencer pushed, still smiling, holding back the laughter that bubbled up inside of him. “You looked very focused, that’s all.” You answered, shrugging nonchalantly before you finished up your drink that had gone lukewarm from the amount of time you had been sitting there. “Well, so did you. Just not on the coloring anymore.” Spencer teased, making a blush creep to your cheeks. Biting your tongue to hold back from throwing out a retort that would have been completely unnecessary. 

Your eyes cast down to the coloring page, it was almost completely filled with your combined efforts of removing every spot of white. It was beautiful to you, a bit messy but that made it perfect. Spencer looked down too, regarding the page with a certain air of pride. “I think we should frame it.” he spoke up. Your eyes darted back to his face, to see if he was joking or if it was serious. His expression was relaxed, no sign of any funny business. “Why?” You asked, a hint of confusion in your voice this time around. “It’s the first thing we made together.” His words made your heart skip a beat, the way he was so sincere had such an effect on you. “We’ll have to make another for my place then.” you answered. “Or you’ll just have to come over by my place more often to see it.” Spencer smiled, his words a thinly veiled excuse to see you in his home, to have you over, spend time together. 

You smiled, quickly leaning over the table to steal a kiss after he finished his sentence. “I’d like that a lot.”

[janovavalen]

✧SOMETHIN STUPID. || percy jackson x fem!reader

summary: percy jackson’s first days on camp were hell to say the least—fist day and he got bullied, but when he sneaks away to be alone he finds an interesting girl in the forest.

part one.

part two.

part three.

part four.

part five.

word count:

warnings: small curses (literally like one word and it’s not really a curse but it’s considered one) reader is daughter of athena, sister of annabeth, horrid flirting, reader lowkey not felling percy for the first half’s of this story line.

taglist: @pleasingregulus

@alidearest @leovaldezluvr

when the next morning rolled in, percy was ready for his day to say the least. not even. he thinks for the first time in his entire life he was actually ready and happy to wake up in the morning with the sun shining in his face.

wiping a bit of drool off the corner of his mouth he sat up and stretched. his arms raised up into the sky above his head while he groaned loudly. happy he was the only one in his cabin to do so but not as happy at the fact some people outside probably heard him.

not caring at the moment he bounced up and got on his clothes. his regular shoes and jeans with his curls ready to go thanks to a bit of water, he made his way outside and inhaled the fresh air.

some campers had been with their siblings or just friends as always. when percy walked down the steps of his cabin he heard—‘hey percy!’. looking over to see grover who had a wide smile on his face.

‘hey grover’ he waved back while waking up to him.

‘so; what’s the move for today?’ grover asked as they started to walk.

‘the move…? dude—i don’t want to think about it more than i am already, if i go i will literally go insane because i don’t know how to even speak to her…let alone look cool’ percy helplessly sighed while walking.

‘that’s because your not every cool’ grover teased as percy looked at him with wide eyes before pushing him with a laugh.

‘no but seriously dude, just be yourself! y/n is probably one of the coolest people here, she’s so nice, chill, and funny. just be yourself—‘

‘my awkward, non-funny and embarrassing self? yeah sure we can do that’ percy rolled his eyes as grover stopped walking along with percy as he placed a hand on percy’s shoulder.

‘percy, your not like that at all—well maybe a little bit that’s besides the point. like i said, just open up, be yourself and y/n will totally connect. if anything , the two of you are actually more similar than you think you are. she’s just as corny and weird as you are—‘

‘i’m not corny and weird—‘

‘uhm…well?’

percy let his jaw drop as he laughed a bit along with grover who stayed quiet but nonetheless percy understood what he was saying and he understood what to do.

‘i get it…i just need confidence’ percy shamefully admitted while looking off to the side. grover let the little him in his mind scrape the edges of all his brain before an idea came into mind.

‘percy…i know who we can ask. i know who will help you all that way’ grover confidently admitted with a smile.

ʚ 🌊 ɞ

‘wait…you and y/n are hanging out later tonight and you need my left on what to say and how to act?’ luke asked with frowned eyebrows as percy nodded.

yeah, grover’s amazing idea was to ask luke castellan one of the more wanted boys in camp, not only that but he had seemed to know what to say to y/n to make her laugh. so maybe if percy could pick up some things from him, he could get y/n to laugh too.

‘hm..man i really don’t know—‘

‘luke please! i need this, i need you to know how important this is!—‘

‘okay! okay, let me think’ luke rushed out as he stood up from the chair he was once in. percy tried to calm down a bit as grover stood against the wall with his arms crossed over his figure.

luke had been staring at the wall for a second before he snapped his fingers together—‘i got it’ luke got the two’s attention as they were all ears.

‘when you see her start it smooth, talk to her, walk a bit close but not to close, she doesn’t really like being close to new people but be close enough to where you can feel her, speak smooth, soft—not to jumpy and not to nervous, she will definitely think about that and make fun of you later to me or annabeth. be sarcastic, she is super sarcastic so be sure you know when she’s being serious’ luke listed.

‘okay okay, what do i do about how i act..what do i wear? what would you wear…’ percy asked as he looked luke up and down.

‘what would i wear? dose that matter—‘

‘just tell him’ grover groaned while holding his face.

‘well…if i were you going with y/n i’d totally wear sweats and her f/c jacket with the shoes you have now. make sure your hair is kind of messy but neat at the same time. also make sure your shoes are tied. if you trip in front of her, dude your done for’ luke warned as he looked down at percy’s slightly untied shoe which percy was quick to tie back up.

‘lastly? use some of that poseidon power, maybe make some water move and all and it will be so cool. she will totally dig that, she even likes swimming’ luke told him as percy stood back up and nodded.

‘dude, this is totally it, your going to do so well!’ grover ran over to percy who had been in deep deep thought the whole time.

what would he even talk about? what if he calms up, freezes mid sentence or what if he does end up falling in front of her? he didn’t know, he would have to find out in the next twenty minutes.

in these remaining moments luke and grover did their hardest to boost his confidence. percy would occasionally feel like he had it then remembered how much of a clutz he actually was and how awfully bad he was at speaking to y/n.

‘percy! it’s time, dude don’t be late you can’t be late she hates late—‘

‘well, sometimes she’s late but she doesn't like it when other people are’ grover corrected as luke rolled his eyes at the remembrance on how many times y/n would go off on him for being late to practice to only show up late the next day.

‘i can’t—she will think i’m weird, look what im wearing! my pants don’t even fit over my ankles and my hair is all dried out—‘

‘dude, you look good! you look awesome and your going to kill it’ luke calmed percy down who would have continued to rant for the next thirty minutes if given the chance.

percy sighed and closed his eyes a bit before combing out his hair and dusting his fit. turning to look at grover who gave him a wide smile and thumbs up for good luck.

‘okay…i’m onto my most important quest of my life, see you guys later if i don’t die from embarrassment and rejection’ percy told them as they rolled their eyes whilst percy walked out of the cabin.

looking around to the open view of the camp around this. it wasn’t very dark, the sun was still up and the sky was dimming with a faint color of pink. clouds were moving in small groups as they moved to other places around the world.

percy always found it interesting how the sky looked. let alone how it could change colors every other day. it could look so bright and beautiful with the colors and clouds and when the night fell it showed the stars that aligned with each other and the moon that shined.

getting a bit destructed as he walked slowly but kept his gaze looking at the sky every so often as he walked only to make a grunt as he felt a body hit his own.

‘oh—i’m sorry. i wasn’t paying attention and i didn’t see—‘ looking down to see y/n who had her hands in her pockets and her mouth closed in silence she shook her head lightly giving him a small—very small smile.

‘percy it’s okay, i wasn’t looking either’ she admitted as she pulled her hands out of her pockets to fix the three rings that sat on her fingers, shining in the reflection of the sun that set above the lake.

‘o—oh, okay. okay so i guess we have something in common after all’ he smiled lightly while looking at y/n who tilted her head to the side.

‘and that is…?’ she wondered. percy shrugged as if it was the most simple question asked.

‘not being able to stay in the real world without getting distracted’ he admitted. y/n let herself think about it for a bit before scoffing and looking away before back at him.

‘well, you can say that but i know when to bring myself back to reality’ y/n teased at how percy could stare at a wall and imagine anything and everything for three hours without moving. he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

‘no way you said that, i can do that any day, i can also read a book and finish only one without going into the next that same moment’ he teased back at y/n who rolled her eyes and shook her head.

‘hm, i’m not saying you win but im not saying anything else on this topic as of right now’ y/n said as she walked down the steps to lead to the dock of which was followed with the lake.

‘well then i guess i do win for right now and if you can think of something please do tell and share’ percy walked close next to y/n who shook her head once more.

the two of them walked down to the woody dock with the lake across them as the sun had been setting.

‘so…i kinda don’t know what to talk about—‘

‘i can tell—‘

‘but we can totally make some things up, how was training today?’ percy ignored her insult and kept speaking which y/n noticed.

‘it was okay. i need more training from luke tomorrow i slipped up on my sword today and it was embarrassing’ she revealed as the two of them made it down to the lake.

‘i’m sure it wasn’t as bad as mine’ percy tried to help only for y/n to say—‘it definitely wasn’t but i could’ve done better’ percy decided to keep quiet on the insult once again with a smile as he looked at her as she looked into the distance.

percy faced the water in front of them as he squinted his eyes ever so slightly with the yellow and orange light from the sunset his his eyes making it brighter than ever. turning his head to look at y/n who had her gaze set at the sky he examined her face. he found himself doing this quite often which he didn’t really know why.

he found it calming? interesting, fun, comforting and sweet to watch and draw out her facial features which she probably didn’t even know existed. the small beauty marks that were peppered over her face. the way her hair sat along her shoulders and neck, her face which shined in the light of the sun.

smiling to himself ever so slightly he sighed and found a small idea.

‘wanna swim?’ he casually asked. y/n looked over at him with frowned eyebrows and scoffed a laugh.

‘swim? in this lake? yeah no thanks—‘

‘don’t be lame! come on, when’s the last time you had fun?’ he turned his body to face her own as she did the same with hers to him.

‘the last time i had fun? maybe when i beat you in training the other day?’ she reminded leaving him to roll his eyes and cross his arms over his body.

‘no not that, i mean actual harmless fun? laughing and just hanging out.’ he asked leaving her to sigh and shrug.

‘i don’t know, i’m not a fun person—‘

‘that changes today then, come on!’ grabbing her hand as he tugged she yelped unexpectedly and pulled her arm back before he could jump with her leaving him to be the only one in water.

covering her mouth with both hands cupped she laughed aloud as he moved his way through the warm water around him.

‘percy!’ she yelled out with a smile as he made his way to the top of the water, his hair falling down onto his face and the curls being prominent. scoffing as he looked up at her, y/n had been drying with laughter.

this is the most he’d ever seen her do any emotion other than being cold stone serious.

‘are you serious!?’ he yelled as she laughed more—‘you're just a scary cat, really! the water isn’t even that bad’ he bragged while swimming up to the dock.

‘says the son of poseidon’ she hinted at leaving him to flick some water into her face which she responded with a gasp too.

‘percy jackson!’ she yelled while whipping her face.

‘you don’t need to be a kid of poseidon to have fun in the water, anyone can, that just shows how much fun you can have.’ he teased while moving his arms around in the water.

laughing a bit y/n slowly sat down with her legs beneath her as her arms held her body so she could lean forward.

percy had now been looking up at her as his own body fell hidden under the water. his arms moving to keep him floating.

‘having fun in there?’ she asked with a lifted brow.

‘you could be too your just so lame’ he exaggerated while rolling his eyes leaving her to laugh and shake her head.

‘i’m not getting into the water with you percy, you can have that all to yourself’ she replied with a grin of which he replied with his own smile. noticing the way her face looked with the shimmers of the water and how it shined around her, he smiled and looked over her face once more.

y/n noticed but froze, not knowing what to do, trying to see what he’d do himself. but at the same time she felt herself examining his face.

placing his arms on the low dock to lift himself up the two of them sat face to face which she was nervous about. the water dripping from his face and down his pointed nose. the curls dripping onto the dock below him, the once dry wood absorbing the water from his hair.

looking at her face once more he helplessly admitted—‘your so beautiful.’ his eyebrows frowning as she looked into his eyes she scoffed a bit and shook her head trying to leave only for him to jump into action and take her hand in his.

‘i mean it…i’ve been thinking this since the first time i saw you…your just, different—‘

‘percy…’ she nervously mumbled while her hand became wet with his own.

‘and i’m not afraid to admit that i’ve been waiting to tell you that. it’s like the more i see you the more i want to know? the more i need to know about you. i can’t really explain it but…’

as he stopped talking y/n nervously looked at him with her breath becoming shortened and her lungs screaming. her heart was beating faster than ever right now and she didn’t know what to do at all.

‘percy…please—‘

‘y/n…i like you.’ he admitted. she felt her heart drop down to hades castle .

‘i mean…i think i do? i don’t really know. there’s not much i can say because i don’t even know what the work like is i mean i can say i like blueberry pancakes or i like blueberries and the ocean but that a different type of like…the type i feel for you is different than blueberry pancakes, do you understand—‘

‘i cant…’ she said. his heart stopped.

nervously laughing with his hand slowly gripping and letting go her own he looked into her eyes and over her face—‘you can’t..understand? or you can’t…reciprocate…’

‘i don’t know? i just can’t—i have to go’ she snatched her hand back before leaving percy to stand by himself on the dock. wet, heartbroken and so so confused. was he just rejected?

the worst she could say is no? yeah well the worst she could say is ‘i can’t’

ʚ 🌊 ɞ

‘what’s do you mean she said she can’t—‘

‘that’s all she said! that’s literally all she said before leaving me standing there as i stupidly watched her leave! i thought i had this. i thought we had something going!’ percy embarrassingly whined into his hands as he sat with grover and luke who watched their friend handle the rejection.

‘oh dude…i mean it’s not bad—‘

‘she literally left me there alone and didn’t turn back!’

‘oh..well, there’s always other fish in the sea’ grover tried to calm but only making it worse.

‘but i wanted that fish!’ he exaggerated as luke looked at grover who held his hand over his head while picking his horns.

‘okay…listen we can’t let you act like that—that was far—‘

‘what is far was my heart that was ripped out of my chest and thrown into that lake.’ percy leaned back into the bed while he looked at the wood above him.

luke and grover watched as percy stared into the ceiling while replaying one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. groaning at the replay luke stood up heroically.

‘okay! okay…we can fix this…y/n is not one to leave a question unanswered…we will fix this percy. just give me some time, give me until tomorrow when i train her, i can bring it up and maybe she’ll tell me something i can tell you—‘

‘really! you’ll do that?’ percy jumped up from his sadness and excitingly looked at luke who nodded.

‘i’m ninety-three percent sure she’ll tell me something anyway. while i’m way it, grover can give you a signal when to walk by and you do not look at her okay? don’t look our way so she will turn around and see you and that’s when she’ll tell me’ luke planned as grover nodded and percy as well.

‘dude…you guys are amazing…but if i get rejected again i think im going to take my chances out in the real world and see what monsters come out for me.’ percy told them as they scoffed.

and yet again another plan had been formed.

percy didn’t think to keep a scoreboard anymore but let’s just say embarrassment one and percy zero.

[teshadraws]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 56]

<< First | < Previous | Next >

-

Nia and Tobias fly across the Obsidian Sea, and reunite with a couple of familiar faces!

-

The next day dawns cold and clear. As Nia and Tobias make the walk to the flying outpost, Nia is quickly woken up by the delicate frost coating the leaf-littered forest floor and the foliage they have to pass through. Her fur feels soaked through within minutes and her paws are chilled, but the brisk pace of the walk helps to warm her up. Well, that and walking a bit closer to Tobias. The charmander seems equally disgruntled about the approaching winter, but he doesn’t snap at Nia for bumping into him once or twice as she leeches off his bubble of warmth.

The sun is just starting to cut through the trees in rays of orange light, melting the frost, when Nia spots the tall structure of the flying outpost ahead of them. She picks up the pace, trotting ahead until it’s fully in sight in the middle of a small clearing. Something like canvas has been tied down to block the open gaps of the structure, acting as makeshift walls to cut off powerful gusts of wind. They billow and blow in the breeze like sails, flapping loudly.

There are only a few Pokemon waiting near the bottom of the structure, but Nia’s eyes lock onto one in particular, large and maroon with a fluffy mane of white.

“Fliss!”

The braviary’s head lifts from where she’d been talking to a smaller, bright orange Pokemon. Even with the intimidating scar where her right eye should be, the way Fliss’ face lights up is nothing short of adorable. “Nia! Well, I’ll be! You looking for a ride?”

“Yes!” Nia slows to a stop in front of the braviary, bouncing on her toes. Both because she’s excited to see the large flying type again and to stay warm. “Are you flying today?”

“Sure am! A little frost ain’t gonna stop me. Where’s that partner of yours? You two still a team?”

Nia turns, just in time for Tobias to emerge from the brush with a sour look. He takes a moment to shake melted frost from his foot. “Here. Just hating winter.”

Fliss laughs and jerks her chin up at the pieces of canvas. “You ain’t the only one. Half our crew’s hiding away until the sun comes out to warm everything up.”

“They’ll have to face the winter eventually,” a new voice says, crisp and even. The bird Fliss had been speaking with before steps closer, and Nia can’t help staring at his feathers a bit longer than is probably polite. He’s a bright orange, the color ending in flame-like tapers and fading into a light gray underbelly. His wings and tail are a striking black at their tips, and streaks of bright yellow band his tail feathers and ring his eyes and beak. He looks like the embodiment of fire, just a head or so taller than Nia and Tobias.

“This ball of sunshine is Comet,” Fliss says, amused. “If you’re lookin’ for a long flight, then he’ll be joining us for the trip.”

Tobias frowns, looking between Fliss and the new Pokemon. “Why?”

Fliss and Comet exchange a loaded look. Then, Fliss sighs. “Was hoping you wouldn’t ask, little flame. We’ve just been flyin’ in pairs lately. Extra safety and all that.”

Nia blinks. “Safety?”

“The winds are more volatile than they used to be,” Comet says. “I promise you we can handle it. It’s just a precaution.”

Nia can’t help wondering what had to happen for such a precaution to be put into place. She shuffles worriedly on her feet, glancing at Tobias. He doesn’t look any more soothed than she feels. No wonder, considering they’ll have to fly over the Obsidian Sea again. An accident over the open ocean is basically a death sentence for a charmander.

“We need to head back to Ghatha,” Nia says, locking eyes with Fliss. “So we would need to go over the ocean. Are you sure it’s safe?”

Nia knows this is technically Fliss’ livelihood, but she trusts the flying type not to lie to her just to make some extra money. Not about this.

The braviary ducks her head in a bow. “I’m as confident as a victini in my flight. But if ya aren’t comfortable, you could always find some water transport.”

“Though the ocean is becoming just as unstable,” Comet mutters.

Tobias shakes his head. “No. No, we’re on a tight schedule. I’ll be fine.”

Nia wonders if he’s reassuring her or himself.

“Neither Felicity or I have had any incidents,” Comet says. “Going together is just extra assurance. New protocol.”

Nia exchanges an uncertain look with Tobias. Normally she wouldn’t want to risk it, but they don’t really have any other option. They need to talk to Will as soon as possible, and using water transport would take far too long.

“We’ll fly,” Tobias says, deciding for the both of them. “If you’ll take us.”

“Gladly!”

The cost for travel is a bit higher than it was before—to compensate two ‘mons’ time rather than just one, Fliss explains—but luckily August gave them more funds than he’d thought they’d need. Tobias splits the payment between the two flying types, dropping the coins into the little pouch tied around Fliss’ leg and the small bag tied to Comet’s back.

Finally, it’s time to fly.

“Welcome aboard!”

Fliss crouches low, belly brushing the grass, to let them crawl on. Tobias doesn’t hesitate before taking a firm grip of the bird’s feathers and pulling himself up onto her back. He offers a hand, and Nia gives him a smile of thanks before letting him help her up. She sits behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle and grateful for his sturdy warmth.

“Smoother start than last time,” Fliss teases. “Ready to fly?”

Tobias nods. “Ready.”

Nia takes a deep breath. “As ready as I can be.”

Fliss laughs. “That’s what I like to hear! Just hold on tight now. Promise we’ll get ya to Ghatha safely.”

With that, Fliss pushes off the ground with powerful legs, giant wings beating hard to get into the air. She bobs once, then slowly lifts up and up and up. They rise past the outpost and the trunks of the trees, until they’re surging past leaves and into a sky that’s a robin’s egg blue.

Immediately, the wind buffets them, cold and biting.

Nia feels her stomach drop. She ducks her head into the warmth of Tobias’ shoulder, clinging tightly to him. She feels more than hears him sigh, but he doesn’t argue, just patting her arm twice once before holding once more to Fliss’ feathers.

Fliss rises higher and higher until she catches the air current she wants, then levels out to ride the wind. While the bone-deep fear clutching at Nia’s gut doesn’t disappear entirely, it does ease a bit once their jerky flight smooths out.

Nia almost wants to peek out at the world, recalling the brief glimpses of gorgeous, breathtaking views from last time. Plus, Tobias clearly loves this whole experience. It’d be fun to share it with him.

But as soon as she squints open an eye and catches sight of the sprawling forest below, looking as small as a carpet of moss, and the sheer openness of the sky around them, terror grabs her again.

She buries her head back into Tobias’ shoulder, taking deep breaths of his soothing scent to calm herself.

Nia still can’t remember if she’d flown before as a human. She knows planes are a thing, but her memory has only returned in bits and pieces. Much of her history is still blank, like a tapestry that’s more moth-eaten holes than actual thread. Was she afraid of heights in the human world too? Or is her body’s fighting type nature really enough to put such fear into her?

It’s hard to describe the feeling, especially as it engulfs her and makes her feel lightheaded. It’s like as much as she knows they’re (probably) safe with Fliss and Comet taking care of them, her body trembles with the knowledge that if she fell from here, she’d likely die. Her chest feels tight, her heart pounding hard against Tobias’ spine, and panic simmers quietly in the back of her mind.

“You breathing back there?” Tobias asks, head turning enough for Nia to catch the words.

Nia takes a gulp of air. Then another, slower, to try and follow his unspoken suggestion. Deep breaths. Just don’t think about it. You’re fine. Tobias is here, and Fliss is here, and if something goes wrong then Comet is here too.

“C-Can you talk?” Nia asks.

“Uh. I guess? About what?”

“Anything. I-I just need a distraction. Um. What kind of Pokemon is Comet?”

“Oh. He’s a talonflame. Fire and flying type, like a charizard. I don’t know too much about them, but he’s the final evolution in a three-stage form, and I can tell he’s fast. He keeps having to pull himself back so he doesn’t leave Fliss behind.”

Nia can’t bring herself to answer, breath stolen from her chest, so she nods.

Tobias keeps talking. “Uh. I think the first form is called a fletchling? They’re little things, about Junie’s size. Don’t remember the middle form’s name, though. Um…they’re probably pretty warm, if they’re anything like other fire types. That’s likely why he’s comfortable flying so early in the day, when it’s still cold.”

Comet must catch onto what Tobias is doing and what they’re discussing, because when Tobias starts running out of tidbits to share, Nia hears the talonflame’s voice shout to them over the wind.

“Talonflame are certainly a warmer species. We even create fire with our feathers, rather than a flame sac like most fire types. We produce an oil that’s flammable, and generate heat and friction through flapping our wings to ignite.”

“Watch,” Tobias says, tapping Nia’s arm.

Nia whines, but peeks open an eye in the direction of Comet’s voice.

Comet is sailing easily along on an air current, framed by blue sky. Upon seeing that he has her attention, he flaps his wings—once, twice, three times—and small embers spark to life from his feathers, leaping behind him to be carried away by the wind.

Nia’s curiosity just barely wins out over her fear. She lifts her head to watch more clearly as Comet does it again. He flaps once, hard, and flames burst to life around his wings, hot enough that Nia feels a brief wave of warmth. Then he shoots forward, zipping past Fliss.

“Show-off!” Fliss shouts, laughter in her voice.

“She was curious,” Comet counters, voice now on their other side.

Nia turns to look at him, mouth open to ask questions about how they can choose when to ignite, and if fletchlings can do that too, and a hundred other things—

But she catches sight of the Silenfroar Mountains behind the talonflame, remembers where she is, and icy fear grips her again. She buries her face with a whimper, feeling pathetic.

Tobias sighs.

“Want me to take a turn on distraction duty?” Fliss calls.

Someone must give her the affirmative, because she starts talking. “Did ya know that there’s another variant of braviary out there? Psychic and flying type! I met one once, and he could blast enough psychic energy to knock out a wailord. I can pack a punch myself, so I was mostly just jealous that he could use his powers to write! This old gal is forever cursed with illiteracy.”

“You can read,” Comet says, dry.

“Half-illiteracy, then!”

“That’s not how it works.”

Nia giggles despite herself, grateful for her travel companions as they fall into more animated conversation. Like this, if Nia keeps her eyes closed and takes deep breaths, if she lets the breeze soothe her and imagines she’s just on a windy hillside rather than hundreds of feet in the air, it’s not too terrible. Although Nia wishes she could whip out her blanket without risk of it blowing away. It’s much colder than the last time they flew.

The three Pokemon keep the conversation flowing, shifting from one topic to another, until Fliss finally asks why they’re returning to Ghatha so soon.

“We’re actually going to Stonebrook, a bit south of Ghatha,” Tobias says. “We’re meeting someone there.”

“Oh, Stonebrook!” Fliss crows. “Nice little place. Quaint. We could drop ya off there if you’d prefer, for a bit of extra poke to compensate our time.”

Tobias makes a thoughtful sound that rumbles in his chest. “How much extra?”

“Let’s say 150.”

Tobias mulls it over, and Nia can feel him turn his head as if to get her input.

“Whatever you think is best,” Nia says into his shoulder.

Tobias hesitates for a moment longer before turning forward again. “100 poke and you’ve got a deal.”

Fliss laughs, loud and booming even as the wind snatches the sound away. “Haggler, eh? You know what? Sure. I like you two, so 100 poke it is. Comet, you can have the larger share since I took the lower deal.”

Comet doesn’t answer, so Nia assumes he agrees with those conditions.

Time passes in a blur after that. Nia knows that they have at least a few hours until they reach the land across the sea, but she tries to distract herself by listening to the snippets of conversation around her and thinking about what they have waiting ahead of them. They’re going to find Junie! And see Will again, as well as his human settlement. Excitement mixes in with the nerves in her stomach.

However, it's hard not to let her mind drift to more panic-inducing thoughts too, like their current situation in the air, or their mission from Giratina, or even how much she misses her family in the human world when she has the time to think about them.

Nia wants them here. She wants her mom to stroke her hair and soothe her fear. She wants Clay to make stupid jokes to distract her. She wants Toni to stick her obnoxiously large headphones over Nia’s ears to drown out the quiet roar of the wind.

She misses them so much. Longing aches like a bruise inside her chest.

Nia sniffs and hopes that Tobias doesn’t notice her shaky breaths. Tears prick at her eyes, hot and insistent.

Nia misses them, and she doesn’t even have the full story. She’d hoped that after getting sick and remembering some of her life as a human, the rest of her memories would follow. But after the initial deluge, they’d slowed to a stop. She knows she’s still missing a lot, still has giant gaps in her memory that feel impossible to focus on for too long. What was the last thing she even did with her family before showing up here?

Nia is pulled out of her thoughts when Tobias speaks up, tapping her arm. “We’re at the ocean.”

Nia doesn’t think he means for her to look up, just to update her, so she nods her thanks into his shoulder.

After that, Nia tries to let the loud howl of the wind and the roar of the waves drown out her thoughts and anxieties. Tries to let the sensations surround her in a fuzzy haze.

She’s snapped back to reality by the sudden tilt of the world.

Nia squeaks, clinging to Tobias as Fliss’ considerable mass is knocked sideways by a sudden gust of wind. The braviary flaps wildly to correct herself, and Nia’s stomach flips. Oh, they’re gonna die they’re gonna die they’re gonna die—

Fliss finally manages to catch a gentler air current, leveling out her erratic flight. Nia keeps her face hidden away, focusing on her death grip around Tobias’ ribs and the way he’s clutching at her arm in return.

“Are you two all right?” Comet yells, sounding more tense than Nia would like. His voice is closer too, as if hovering near enough to catch them if they fall.

Tobias squeezes Nia’s wrist, whether to reassure her or himself that she’s still hanging on. “I don’t know if I’d say all right, exactly, but we’re still here. What was that?”

“Rogue wind,” Fliss calls back. “I’ve sailed these currents for more than twenty years, and I’ve never seen anything like ‘em. They like to pop up out of nowhere and throw us off course.”

“A symptom of the increasing natural disasters, as far as we can tell,” Comet adds. “It certainly makes travel more difficult. Dangerous, particularly for the smaller flyers.”

Nia’s heart sinks. This is just one more reminder of what they’re trying to stop. Of what will come to pass if they don’t fix the world. Nia can imagine the winds growing untamed enough eventually to ground flyers completely, whipping up storms and typhoons to wreak havoc alongside earthquakes and droughts.

Nia takes another deep breath to ward off fresh panic. This is why they’re going to see Will. They’re going to fix this. All of it.

“Don’t you worry—I’m much tougher than any rowdy wind!” Fliss calls, trying to sound upbeat. “You two just hold on tight and we’ll be sure to get you to Stonebrook safely.”

Tobias nods, but doesn’t respond. Nia, still trying to calm her racing heart, simply holds onto him tighter. She already didn’t like flying, but the thought that the world could suddenly flip and toss them into the ocean at any time is ten times worse. Not that she doesn’t trust Fliss, but she distrusts the current state of nature even more.

“I’ll scout ahead to make sure that doesn’t happen again,” Comet calls, just loud enough to hear, before Nia feels another burst of warmth from his flames. He must’ve jetted forward to fly just ahead of Fliss.

Unfortunately, conversation stops after that as Fliss and Comet focus on navigating the rough air currents. Time passes in tense quiet, aside from the rush of the wind and the roar of the waves. Every time a gust of wind shakes up their flight even the slightest bit, Nia’s heart jumps into her throat.

When Tobias finally speaks again, it’s quiet and almost to himself. “Huh.”

Nia tightens her grip on her partner. “W-What? Is something wrong?”

“No. I don’t think so, at least.” Tobias leans slightly, as if peering over Fliss’ side. “Giratina’s following us.”

That’s interesting enough to make Nia look up. She debates with herself for just a moment before steeling her courage, tightening her grip, and following Tobias’ gaze down, to the choppy ocean below.

Sure enough, Nia spots Giratina’s giant, serpentine shape in the broken reflections on the ocean’s surface. He’s following alongside Fliss’ quick pace, winding like a snake through black water.

Fliss notices the legendary’s presence, but she must think it’s another Pokemon because she just gripes about nosy water types before flapping higher to catch a different current. Nia stiffens at the reminder of how high up they are and burrows back into her safe space.

“Surely he has better things to do than follow us around,” Tobias says.

“Maybe we should give him an update?” Nia suggests. “To be fair, he doesn’t know what we’re doing. We could try talking to him through a reflection later?”

“Maybe.”

And with that, they fall silent again.

____________________________________________________________

It’s late morning when they finally make it back to land, and almost noon by time Fliss calls out that they’ll be landing in Stonebrook in a few minutes.

The rest of their flight had been uneventful after that first incident. Comet had successfully steered them around any other severe turbulence, and the cold weather had warmed with the sun beating down on their backs. Still, Nia is beyond relieved to have the end of their flight so near, and she manages to lift her head and take a peek at where they’re going.

The forest below looks different from the one in Bethoc’s Haven. The trees back home are a range of species, mostly deciduous, with spreading boughs and wide leaves that change colors and wither away with the seasons. These trees, even from a distance, stand tall and pointed, a rich palette of greens despite the approaching winter. Evergreens?

Fliss and Comet aim for a notable gap in the trees. As they start to descend, Nia realizes they aren’t just settling in a small grove or clearing, but instead at the edge of a tiny village nestled amongst the trees. There are small buildings scattered throughout the space, built from boulders and slabs of stone propped against one another. Other than a few purposeful openings that are clearly windows, any gaps are filled in with smaller, carefully stacked stones. A stream winds through the town, stepping stones bridging its two halves, and even this late in autumn the whole place feels green and lush, each building topped by a grassy roof. They must be farther south than Nia had realized.

Pokemon are scattered around the village, going about their day. Children are chasing each other down dirt paths, shrieking with laughter, while a couple of adults talk and watch the kids from outside stone homes. Others appear to be doing chores or running errands. One building is seemingly the home of a merchant, and a few Pokemon are crowded around the little window where he’s exchanging goods. Smoke rises from another building, and Nia catches the savory scent of something cooking. Some Pokemon are even riding a cart out of town on the main path, heading who knows where.

Fliss finally touches down, and Nia wastes no time in sliding off her back. The cool, pine needle-strewn dirt below her feet is blessedly solid.

“Oh, thank God,” Nia breathes, sinking to the ground. Her legs are somehow both stiff and flimsy as jelly.

Fliss laughs, lowering herself so Tobias can slide down much more gracefully.

“You good?” He asks.

Nia groans, leaning forward to press her forehead against the dirt. Tobias gives her a patronizing pat on the back.

“Apologies again for the rough flight over,” Comet says, stepping closer.

“But we did get you here in one piece!” Fliss says, giving an exaggerated wink with her one good eye.

Tobias helps Nia to her feet. “That you did. Thanks.”

“We’re planning to head to Ghatha right away for our next job, so you may need to make the journey north on foot if you need a return flight,” Comet says.

“That’s fine!” Nia says, giving Comet a weak smile as she starts stretching out her stiff legs. “We probably won’t need a flight ‘mon for a while, anyways. We need to find someone here in town, and then we’re heading south.”

“Fair enough,” Fliss says. “Well, it was good seeing you two again, despite the rocky weather. Be careful on your travels and be sure to find us again if you need a flight! It’s always a pleasure having you as riders.”

“Thanks, Fliss,” Nia says, smiling warmly at the braviary. “I can’t say it’s been, um…fun, exactly, but I appreciate you doing your best to make it easier for me. Both of you.”

Comet dips his head. “Of course. It was nice meeting you both.”

With that, Fliss and Comet step back and take flight again, flapping up and into the sky. Nia waves them off until they’re out of sight.

Then it’s just Nia and Tobias standing at the edge of the village. Stonebrook is absolutely tiny, maybe ten or twelve small buildings in all, and Nia can see clear to the other side of town from where they’re standing. While the inhabitants of the village aren’t approaching them, there are one or two Pokemon watching them curiously, clearly wondering who they are and why they flew to Stonebrook of all places.

“Well, we’re here. Now what?” Tobias asks.

“Well…” Nia trails off, looking around. “I guess we just ask around until someone can point out where Junie lives? It can’t be too hard to find her in a town this small.”

Tobias shrugs, clearly not thrilled about socializing with a bunch of strangers, but follows as Nia wanders into the village proper, towards the merchant shop she’d spotted earlier.

“This place is nice,” Nia says, smiling as one of the children she’d seen before runs past her. The kid, a brown chipmunk Pokemon with a leafy green bonnet, does a double-take at the two strangers in his village, and skids to a stop. The Pokemon that had been chasing the little guy slams into him, and the two fall into a squirming, squabbling heap.

“It’s definitely not where I expected Junie of all Pokemon to settle down,” Tobias says, stepping around the kids. “It’s too…”

“Peaceful?”

“I was going to say boring, but yeah.”

Nia elbows him to be polite, still looking around as they approach the merchant’s shop. The village is open to the sun, but it’s surrounded by a thick wall of pine trees. Nia can’t decide if the forest feels reassuring or confining. Then again, she lives inside a giant tree, so she doesn’t really have room to talk.

“Nia?”

Nia stops in place, ears perking at the familiar voice. She spins to find it, beaming when she sees Junie stopped mid-step mere feet away. The rookidee is clearly shocked, beak open and wide ruby eyes flicking between Nia and Tobias in disbelief.

“Junie!” Nia says.

Junie blinks once. Twice. Then she finally seems to register that this is really happening. She tweets an excited, shrill noise before rocketing into Nia’s open arms. Nia falls to the dirt and moss, laughing.

“What’re you doing here?!” Junie says, nuzzling into Nia’s fur. “Where did you even come from?”

“We flew!” Nia laughs, hugging her. “Did you not see us? Half the village has been staring at us since we landed.”

“I just got into town!” Junie leans back just enough to meet Nia’s eyes, feathers fluffed with excitement.  “What’re you doing here?!”

Nia feels her smile falter a bit. She sits up, and Junie resettles in her lap. “We have business south of here, so we thought we would stop by and visit you on the way.”

“I’m so glad you did! I missed your adorable face.” Junie’s gaze flicks behind Nia to where Tobias is standing, and she perks up all over again. “And Toby’s here too!”

“I told you not to call me that,” Tobias growls.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your charming personality!”

Nia giggles, while Tobias just rolls his eyes.

“Ahem.”

Nia and Junie look up to see a pink cow Pokemon standing over them, a basket full of linens held against her hip.

Oh. They decided to have their reunion right in the middle of town, didn’t they? And right in the middle of one of the walking paths, too.

Junie laughs and flaps her way out of Nia’s lap. “Sorry, Marie!”

Nia scrambles to follow. “Sorry, ma’am!”

Marie shakes her head, but she’s smiling as she passes. “Good to see you so happy, Junie. Just keep the paths clear, all right?”

Junie salutes the Pokemon’s back, sending Nia a wry smile.

Huh. Nia had gotten the impression back in Ghatha that Junie didn’t talk to her neighbors much, but that was a pretty casual exchange with Marie. Maybe she’s grown more comfortable with them since then?

Once the cow Pokemon is out of earshot, stopping outside of her home to hang the linens on a makeshift clothesline, Junie turns to Nia. “Come on, we can go back to my place.”

“Oh, sure!”

Nia and Tobias follow as Junie hops down one of the village’s dirt paths, then leaves the trail entirely to head into the woods.

Nia hesitates at the tree line, watching Junie’s dark feathers get nearly swallowed up by the forest’s heavy shade. The three of them are dwarfed by the tall evergreens here.

“You don’t live in town?” Nia asks.

“Nope! I live with Bo now! He should actually be stopping by the house soon with some lunch.”

Nia’s brows rise at the bird’s easy answer, but she dutifully follows before she can lose sight of the rookidee.

Junie had seemed so stubbornly independent back in Ghatha. When did that change? Nia did tell her she should try connecting more with her neighbors, but this feels like a big step.

“Bo?” Tobias asks when they catch up.

“Yeah! He’s a dork, but he’s the best. A real metal guy.”

Nia tilts her head, hearing the joke in Junie’s voice but unsure of what to make of it. A pun, no doubt.

“Is he your, um…”

Junie must pick up on what Nia is asking, because she scrunches up her face and sticks out her tongue. “Ew, no, gross. He’s like. A dad. Or an older brother, maybe. Oh! No, wait, he’s definitely an uncle!”

“How do you just decide that someone’s an uncle?” Tobias asks.

“When they have uncle energy, duh. Keep up, Toby.”

Tobias sends Nia a look that makes it clear he’s already done with Junie for this visit. Nia bites back a laugh.

The rookidee leads them farther into the forest than Nia expects, until Stonebrook is out of sight behind them and they’re surrounded by the quiet of the trees. It’s heavily shaded here with the canopy of evergreens so thick, and the air cools notably. At first, Nia almost finds it unnerving, used to the dappled sunshine of the forest in Bethoc’s Haven, but the peaceful quiet and gentle, dark colors grow on her quickly. The ground underfoot is a soft mix of dirt, moss, and soft pine needles, and the air is fragrant with the scent. The trunks of the pines tower above them. There’s less foliage to wade through, which is nice. It’s not bad, necessarily. Just…different.

Finally, Nia sees something up ahead, an out of place gray amongst the cool browns and greens of the forest.

“This is where we live!” Junie chirps, hopping ahead to present it with a wide flourish of her wings.

It’s a small abode made of stone, much like the homes back in Stonebrook proper. One of its walls seems to be made up of the large tree it’s propped against, and its roof is a grassy slant of soil atop a slab of stone. The other walls are made of smaller, carefully stacked rocks, with only two rectangular gaps left on either side of the wooden door—windows, most likely, seeing as they’re currently covered by leafy blinds. There are a few flowers and paint doodles decorating the outside, almost certainly Junie’s doing, that brighten the gray exterior. The little house is cushioned by moss and framed by more giant pine trees, but there are a few slices of sunshine in this part of the forest, making the whole place look homey rather than unwelcoming.

“It’s lovely!” Nia says, charmed.

“You sleep on the ground?” Tobias asks, sounding more confused than anything.

“Hey, what’s wrong with that?” Junie asks, giving him a glare. “You sleep on the ground!”

“We literally live in a tree.”

Junie stops mid-retort, blinking. “Huh. Guess you do. Still! Lots of Pokemon sleep on ground level!”

“Not flying types.”

“We’ve had some rough storms around here, okay?” Junie huffs. “Besides, I used to sleep in trees before moving in with Bo, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I kept falling out, and it got so drafty! This is much cozier.”

“Or maybe you’re just a weirdo.”

“Maybe it’s just your human side talking,” Nia suggests, biting back a laugh at the cross look Junie sends her partner. “Humans do like being cozy.”

“Because it’s the best!” Junie says with a decisive nod. She opens her mouth to say something else, then pauses, glancing up through the trees as they rustle with the wind. “Oh! I think Bo’s home!”

Nia peers up through the pine branches and the slivers of sunlight, but she can’t see much of anything through the thick boughs.

“I’d step back if I were you,” Junie says, hopping back against the house. “I’ve been knocked over by his tailwind more times than I can count.” 

Finally, Nia sees him: a silver bird diving through a gap in the evergreens. He flashes bright when he cuts through a ray of sunlight, like the sun reflecting off a car, and the undersides of his wings are a scarlet red. As he descends, Nia realizes just how big he really is, and scrambles back to make room, Tobias right on her heels.

The bird slows down with a few powerful flaps right before he meets the forest floor. The gust created from his wings makes Nia brace herself against the house and squint her eyes shut as he settles heavily onto the mossy ground.

Nia blinks grit from her eyes and trails her gaze up from huge talons and a bulky silver body until she finds the bird’s face. He’s gotta be over two times their height, and he’s seemingly covered in…metal? The wings he tucks against his sides almost seem to be tipped in blades, sharp as they are, but they don’t cut through the satchel strapped around his body. His head is an equally sharp thing, with a wicked beak of sharp teeth and a spike of metal atop his head, almost like a helmet. He meets Nia’s gaze with keen yellow eyes.

“You didn’t tell me we were having visitors, Junebug,” the bird says, voice more playful than Nia expects. “I would’ve cleaned the place up a bit. Now I just look like a bad host.”

Junie laughs, hopping forward to gesture with her wings. “I’m just as surprised as you are! These are the friends I told you about, from Ghatha! Nia and Toby.”

“Tobias, actually,” Tobias corrects. It’s halfhearted, though, as he sizes up the Pokemon in front of them.

Nia gives the large bird a smile and a shy wave.

The bird squawks a laugh. “You two are just like Junie described! Nice to meet you. I’m Bolat. Local mail ‘mon and self-appointed wrangler for this little impidimp.”

Bolat reaches out a taloned foot to nudge Junie, surprisingly gentle. The rookidee trills an annoyed sound as she’s still nearly knocked over, but she’s smiling.

“I keep your life exciting and you know it!”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Nia says, bowing lightly. Tobias doesn’t say anything, but Nia sees him give the bird a respectful nod.

“You too.” Bolat tilts his head, looking at them consideringly. “Do you two plan to bunk with us tonight?”

“Oh! I-I mean, we can find somewhere else to sleep if it’s any trouble, but—”

Bolat laughs and shakes his head. “No no, you’re fine. We have room. We’ll just need to get you some bedding for a proper nest. Guessing you haven’t done that yet?”

“They just got here!” Junie says. “Gimme like an hour. There’s some decent stuff in that glen west of here, right?”

Bolat hums, eyeing the two of them again before turning back to Junie. “How about I just grab some bedding for the night while I’m out on my second run? I’m sure you want to catch up anyways.”

Nia almost protests out of pure politeness, but glances at Junie instead. This is her home, after all. Even if Nia is surprised that the little bird isn’t immediately insisting she can do it herself.

After a moment of thought, though, Junie just nods. “If you don’t mind, that’d be awesome! Thanks, Bo.”

“Eh, no big. It’s a slow day anyways. Ah, here.” Bolat lifts a wing to dip his beak into the satchel looped over his body, rummaging around through…letters? He finally re-emerges with a small sack, which he drops in front of Junie. “Grabbed some lunch. Make sure you eat a few of the chestnuts and greens—you need more bulk if you want to carry more than a letter at a time.”

Junie groans and butts her head against Bolat’s leg with a thonk. “I know, I know! I’ll eat my stupid veggies. Thanks.”

Bolat laughs again and looks at Nia and Tobias. “There should be enough in there for all three of you, if you haven’t had lunch yet. I’ll pick something else up for myself.”

“Are you sure?” Nia asks, ears lowering. She can’t help feeling like they’re imposing, showing up so suddenly and making Bolat do so much for them.

“Of course!” Bolat waves them off with a giant wing. “Any friend of June’s is a friend of mine. Make yourselves at home.”

“Well…thank you, then.”

“’Course.” Bolat squints up through the trees at the midday sunshine. “I’d better get going if I don’t want to be late, though. Can you hold down the fort until I get back, Junebug?”

“Aye aye, cap’n!” Junie says, saluting with her little wing.

“In that case, I’ll see you all this evening with bedding in tow. See you!”

Bolat barely waits for Nia and Tobias to say their own goodbyes before he’s flapping hard at the ground again and lifting up into the air. Nia watches, kind of awestruck that a bird seemingly made of metal can appear so light and graceful as he flies up between the trees and out of sight.

Then Nia squints, looking down at Junie. “’A real metal guy?’”

Junie chirps a laugh. “I wasn’t lying, was I?”

Tobias snorts. “A skarmory’s about as metal as a flying type can get.”

“Exactly! Now, come on in. I can’t make you guys proper nests until Bo brings back some fluff, but we can still catch up and eat!”

Junie grabs the lip of the sack of food and drags it along behind her, flapping furiously against its weight. Nia holds open the front door so Junie can get inside, watching as the little bird pulls open the blinds on the two small windows to let in some fresh air and sunlight. Then Nia follows her, surprised by how the inside of the little home feels both cozy and more spacious than she expects.

It’s clearly a space built for just one or two Pokemon, but it’s organized. There’s a small basin off to one side of the room, with bowls, cloths, and other supplies resting near it on a small, flat boulder. On the other side, there’s a larger slab of stone, where two nests sit. One is clearly Junie’s, a tiny bowl of moss and pine needles perfectly sized to cup her body. The second nest is much, much larger, and Nia has to stare at it for a moment to try to understand what she’s looking at.

Are those…thorns?

Junie notices Nia’s expression and twitters a laugh. “Yeah, Bo sleeps in a nest of brambles. Apparently lots of skarmory do it to protect their chicks and toughen up their feathers or something? Or he’s just a freak, I dunno.”

“That’s, um…really intense,” Nia settles on.

“Right?! I’ll stick with my soft, squishy nest, thank you very much. I’m a delicate lady, after all.”

Over near the table, Tobias snorts.

“Oh, what?” Junie says, playfully challenging. “Something you want to say, Toby?”

“Lots of things. But then Nia would scold me for being rude.”

“Like that ever stopped you before.”

Nia smiles as the two go back and forth. She trails closer to the nests, which are sitting right next to one another, almost touching.

“You two seem close,” Nia says, glancing back at Junie.

“I mean…I guess? I haven’t really been here that long.”

“Yeah, but you seemed really against letting anyone help you back in Ghatha. So I guess I’m just glad you found someone here you trust.”

“Yeah…” Junie starts preening her wing, visibly embarrassed. “I was being kind of dumb about that, in hindsight. Like. Bo can be ridiculous, but he’s super nice, y’know? I really like living here. He’s been teaching me a lot, too! Like getting me to fly higher without freaking out.”

Nia turns to look at Junie. “Really?”

“Yup! I can even fly above the trees now! Not by much before I panic again, but I’m definitely better than before. Bo thinks he can get me over my fear of heights in under a year!”

“See if he can teach Nia, too,” Tobias jokes, picking up a bowl to inspect it.

“This…seems like a big deal to you,” Nia says slowly, a little confused. “I-I mean, don’t get me wrong! It’s great! But your fear of heights didn’t seem to bother you that much before?”

“Well…” Junie hops over to fiddle with the tie on the sack of food, clearly looking for something to keep herself busy. “I couldn’t help you in the fire at Ghatha because I was too scared of flying, and I only ended up living with Bo because I was too weak to navigate a storm. So I guess I just want to get better at being a flying type so I can actually do things and not be scared all the time. Plus, I’ll need to be able to fly for real if I want to have a more exciting job than just running errands around Stonebrook.”

“A job?” Tobias asks, frowning. “Like as a Seeker?”

Junie bursts into laughter. “Absolutely not! Fighting’s the worst. Don’t know how you do it, Nia. And dealing with clients and guildmasters? Ugh. No thanks.”

“What’re you hoping to do instead?” Nia asks.

“I’m thinking a mail ‘mon like Bo!” Junie says. She abandons the sack and hops up onto the windowsill to better meet Nia’s gaze. She looks excited, chest puffed and eyes bright. “It’ll take me a few years to learn the landscape well enough to find my way around, and I have to build up enough strength to actually carry a few letters long distance—especially since I have to stay a pipsqueak forever—but I think I’d really like it! Bo’s let me tag along on a few of his runs and it’s the best. He gets to go everywhere and he meets so many funny people!”

Nia blinks at Junie’s enthusiasm, surprised. That’s…quite the long-term goal. Without thinking, she says, “Years? But what about getting back home?”

Junie seems confused for a moment, but then she pouts. “Oh. Right. You still want to be human again, don’t you?”

Nia jerks back. She remembers Junie mentioning something like this in Ghatha, but— “You don’t? You want to stay here? Like this? Forever?”

Junie’s pout deepens into something more genuinely troubled. Her eyes flick to Tobias before resettling on Nia. “Yeah? Just because you want to go back to the boring old human world doesn’t mean everyone does.”

“But…” Nia trails off, at a loss for words. She looks at Tobias, wondering if he’s as surprised as she is. He’s pointedly fiddling with the bowl in his hands, not meeting Nia’s eyes. Oh. Right. Leaving would mean…leaving him behind. And everyone else, too.

But even with that in mind, Nia still can’t help her shock. When she thinks of the human world, she doesn’t think of how boring it can be. She thinks of her family, of going home and reuniting with them. She thinks of her brother pulling her into a crushing hug and lifting her off the ground. She thinks of her mom crying and cooking a big meal for the family to eat together. She thinks of Toni refusing to leave her side for a week straight and catching her up on everything she missed.

Does Junie not have people like that to go home to?

“Do you not remember anything yet?” Nia asks. “About your old life?”

Junie hops down to the soft dirt of the floor and back over to the sack of food. “No, I remember. Not a lot, but enough. It just isn’t good enough to convince me to go back.”

“Wait, doesn’t Will have some theory about humans having to get close to death to regain their memories?” Tobias asks, narrowing his eyes at Junie. “Did you get your memories back after the fire in Ghatha?”

“Nope! Not there. I got pretty hurt right after I got back to Stonebrook, so it must’ve been then. I didn’t know about the whole near-death thing, but it did happen while I was recovering, so.”

“You got hurt?!” Nia asks, alarmed despite knowing that Junie has been totally fine the entire time they’ve been talking. She still can’t resist stepping closer and crouching to scan the delicate little bird’s body. “It had to be serious if you remembered something.”

Junie chirps a laugh. “Sure was! A nasty storm hit the woods and a branch fell on me. Almost flattened me like a pancake! Funny how that’s almost happened twice now, huh? Anyways, that’s how I met Bo! He helped me get back on my feet. Oh! And look at this!”

Junie ignores the distress surely painting Nia’s face to hop back a step. Then, with a furrow in her little brow and a few moments of quiet, a bubble of bright orange energy flickers to life around her.

Aura. Junie’s aura. Nia can sense it immediately, even if she hadn’t been able to see it herself. Her jaw drops.

The bubble around the rookidee only lasts for a second or two, weak and faint, before vanishing again. Junie pants, clearly exhausted from the little display, but beams at Nia and Tobias’ gobsmacked expressions.

“I used protect when the branch landed on me! Though apparently not very well, since I still fractured some bones. Definitely not as strong as the one you used in Ghatha, Nia. But still! Isn’t that cool?!”

“You can use aura now?” Tobias asks, looking horrified. He’s probably thinking about Junie possessing all of the intimate soul-reading powers that Nia has.

Junie shakes her head. “Nah. Just this one move. But I still thought it was neat!”

“It is neat,” Nia offers a beat too late, feeling off-kilter. That one book in the archives did mention that all humans could use protect, but it’s still strange seeing it in action.

Junie puffs out her little chest, proud, before realizing something. She glares at Nia. “Wait, you also got some of your memories back? That means you almost died again, too! I thought I told you guys not to get into any more trouble!”

Nia winces, holding out her hands in a placating gesture. “T-To be fair, I just got really sick?”

“That’s an understatement,” Tobias grumbles, walking over to flick Nia with his tail.

“Oh.” Junie’s irritation deflates. “That sucks.”

“A little,” Nia laughs. “Although…Junie, do me a favor and promise to go to a doctor right away if you get sick, okay? It can get pretty serious for humans.”

Junie opens her mouth to make a lighthearted quip, but something about the expressions on their faces stops her. She tilts her head, clearly curious, but eventually chirps, “Yeah, okay. I promise.”

After that, they settle on the ground outside to eat, where the dirt and moss has been warmed a bit by the sun. Tobias opens the sack Bolat brought back, where a small feast of berries, veggies, and some spiky chestnuts await them for lunch.

Junie gets to work carefully cracking open the chestnuts with her beak while Nia and Tobias divvy up the rest of the food for their impromptu picnic. It’s still chilly out, especially in the shade of the forest, but it’s not as cold as it was while flying over. The wind smells like fresh pine as it rattles through the trees, and dappled sunlight plays across the ground.

“I still feel bad eating the food Bolat got specifically for you two,” Nia says as Junie passes them some of the unshelled chestnuts to add to their meal.

“Don’t be. Bo’s really generous, and he finds lots of food while he’s out on the job. He took me in when I got hurt and took care of me without a second thought.”

Nia smiles as she takes a bite of a carrot-like vegetable, crunching away at it. Bolat does seem awfully nice, and Nia’s beyond grateful that Junie found someone like him to take care of her when she was so injured. She doesn’t want to imagine what would’ve happened otherwise.

“So, catch me up,” Junie says around a mouthful of food. “Any leads on the whole ‘returning to the human world’ front?”

Nia feels Tobias’ eyes on her, and tries not to look too eager at the prospect. “Um…a few? I have some ideas, but nothing solid yet.”

Junie hums, clearly sympathetic but not at all upset on her own behalf. “That sucks. Sorry, Nia. Let me know if I can help, okay? Although I don’t know what I could add that you and Will don’t already have covered.”

Nia slowly puts her own food back down. “Junie, you…you really don’t want to go back home, do you?”

Junie shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “I mean. I miss some stuff, I guess, but most of my memories are just…blah, you know? And I’m happy here! Even though I’m gonna be a little shrimp forever, I’m much happier here than I ever was as a human.”

Nia sits back, torn. On one hand, it’s not like she can argue with Junie’s feelings. And just because Nia wants to see her family and friends so desperately doesn’t mean everyone does. But to just abandon her old life entirely? Just like that?

“You aren’t worried that somebody will miss you?” Nia can’t help asking.

“Not really. They aren’t my problem anymore.”

What in the world does that mean?

Nia tries not to visibly slump, and starts picking at her food again. She’d been so excited to share her recovered memories with the rookidee, but now she isn’t so sure she wants to. Would Junie even want her to, or would it just be awkward?

“So is that the mission you’re doing south of here? Figuring out human stuff?”

“Um, no. Not really. We are going to see Will, but not about that.”

“What for, then?”

Nia glances at Tobias. He’s munching on a chestnut, and gives Nia a wave of his hand that clearly says it’s Nia’s prerogative how much she wants to share.

“Okay, your little telepathic communication thing is adorable, but what’s with the serious face?” Junie asks. She looks between Nia and Tobias. “You’re not telling me something.”

For a moment, Nia considers brushing off Junie’s concerns. She hadn’t told Xander’s team or Andyn’s team about the whole “world ending” thing, but…well, quite frankly, she doesn’t think Junie will let it go now that she’s picked up on it.

Plus, she’s human like Nia, as much as she apparently doesn’t want to be anymore. She didn’t have a life here before all of this started happening. It feels right, to let her in on the secret too.

Nia puts her food down again. “You’re right. Sorry. We, um…we found something out recently. Something big.”

Junie frowns. “Bad big?”

“Certainly not good big,” Tobias huffs.

“We met Giratina,” Nia says. “He—"

“Wait, back up. Giratina? The scary nightmare creature that Will explicitly told us not to talk to?”

Nia winces. “Yes? He’s, um…actually pretty civil. If a bit of a grouch.”

“So like Tobias, then,” Junie says. She doesn’t even bask in his reaction, adding, “Okay, hold up, start from the beginning. I need the whole story.”

Nia hesitates, but crumbles quickly under Junie’s insistent gaze.

So Nia tells the story yet again, from the moment when Tobias noticed Giratina following them, all the way up to their talk with August when they returned to the guild. She’s getting better at summarizing after telling the story twice before, but Tobias still jumps in occasionally to add any important details that she forgets. Junie is surprisingly quiet for most of it, aside from when she chastises them for being idiots, jumping down into dangerous mines with criminals and meeting up with crazy bugs who want to send them to the distortion world.

Finally, voice raspy and meal still only half-finished, Nia says, “And that’s the gist. This world—the Pokemon world—is basically in danger of falling apart entirely if we don’t do something to stop it. And the human world will go down with it.”

“Nia thinks Will might have some human connections who can help us find Xerneas, so that she can strengthen the barrier,” Tobias adds. “Or fix it afterwards, if it’s predetermined to break. Either way, we don’t have much go to go on, so we’re checking with him just in case.”

Junie’s expression is somber when they finish. She stares long and hard at the dirt, clearly deep in thought. Finally, she sighs and looks up. “Well. That’s a fine pickle. And just when I was getting comfy here, too. I guess we’ll just have to see what Will has to say, right?”

Nia blinks, then echoes the little bird. “We?”

“Well, yeah! I’m coming with you two to Will’s place, of course.” Junie says. “I just got you back. You aren’t ditching me again while you go off to save the world!”

Nia straightens up, heart lifting. “Really?”

Tobias groans. “Really?”

“Yup! You’re stuck with me, lizard-breath.”

“Greeeaaat,” Tobias drawls, using his flames to char a pecha berry cupped in his palms. 

“But what about Bolat?” Nia asks.

Junie waves Nia off. “He’ll be fine! He was on his own forever before I showed up. As long as I come back eventually to show him I’m not dead I’m sure he’ll be cool about it. And I can keep training while we head south so I’m not slacking!”

Nia smiles, something in her relaxing. “That’d be great, Junie. We’d be happy to have you.”

“Happy is a strong word,” Tobias says.

Nia glances at him, afraid for a moment that she’d just made a decision for the both of them that he’s genuinely upset about, but he doesn’t actually look bothered by this development. He bites into his berry with a casual movement, his tail flame its usual calm flicker and his expression even. Just their usual banter, then.

“Aw, c’mon! I’m excited to be traveling with you guys again! I guess we should leave right away tomorrow morning since this is kind of time-sensitive, huh? We’ve got mysteries to solve, worlds to save, eldritch horrors to meet—oh! Nia!”

Nia jumps, nearly dropping the peeled chestnut in her hand. “Y-Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask earlier, but I didn’t want to interrupt. If you can communicate with Giratina through reflections and he’s on our side now, could we like. Call him?”

Nia stares at Junie, chestnut forgotten. “You want to talk to him? He’s…kinda scary.”

“That’s even better!” Junie says, hopping up excitedly. “It’ll be like we’re trying to summon demons at a sleepover. Wait here!”

Junie darts inside her and Bolat’s home, and Nia looks at Tobias, bewildered.

The charmander shrugs, apparently more or less unphased. “You did suggest we get in touch with him so he knows what we’re up to.”

“I…guess?”

Junie flaps out the front door in an unsteady bob, a small stone bowl barely gripped in her tiny claws. She drops it on the ground in front of Nia, then lands clumsily on the other side.

“There! Will that work? You can use your canteen water, right?”

Okay, guess they’re doing this right now. Nia sighs, once again putting the last of her food aside to grab her canteen and pour an inch of water into the bowl. Sunlight bounces across the water’s surface as it settles. The whole thing is about the size of Nia’s hand, just large enough to see faint reflections of the trees above them.

“Now what?” Junie asks, practically vibrating. “Do we have to chant or something?”

“I don’t actually know,” Nia says, frowning. “We haven’t tried to call him like this before.”

“He can’t be far,” Tobias says, leaning closer to the bowl. “He was following us on the trip over.”

Just as Nia’s about to try calling for Giratina, Junie shouts, “Hey, lord of nightmares! Get your butt over here!”

“Junie!” Nia hisses, wide-eyed.

“What?! You said he’s on your side now!”

“He is, but he’s also a god with a temper!”

“Uh, hey,” Tobias says, pointing. “He’s here.”

Nia looks down, surprised. Sure enough, she can see the faint reflection of Giratina’s silhouette in the surface of the bowl. Just his head, really, the rest of his body likely unable to fit into view.

“Whoa,” Junie breathes, feathers ruffled but expression delighted.

Giratina’s eyes narrow slightly, as if to ask what they want. Nia can practically hear his rapidly thinning patience.

“W-We saw you following us earlier, over the ocean,” Nia explains. “So I thought you were maybe wondering what we were doing? I figured we could give you an update. I-If you’d like.”

“We also wanted to see if we could contact you,” Tobias adds. “Which I guess is a yes.”

Giratina nods, looking back at Nia. Waiting.

She jerks. “O-Oh! Okay. Um. So we’re looking for a friend of mine, a human, who has been gathering other humans. We think he might have an idea of where to find Xerneas, since I know he’s been researching a lot of stuff and talking to a lot of people. So that’s why we’re, uh. Here. And traveling.”

Giratina seems to mull that over for a moment, before nodding his approval.

“Can he not talk?” Junie whispers, loudly.

“He talked to me in his dimension,” Nia says, feeling weirdly rude speaking about Giratina in the third-person when he’s right there. “But I don’t think he can speak to us through reflections?”

“But what if he has something important to tell you?”

Giratina shifts, catching their attention before Nia or Tobias can answer. He brings up a tendril-like wing, the giant talon at its tip settling close to the surface of the reflection and blocking out Giratina himself.

“Does he want you to…touch him? E.T. style?” Junie asks. “Can you even do that?”

Nia frowns, staring at the talon seemingly right on the other side of the water’s surface. “I…don’t know. He did pull me through a reflection in Shivergleam, but I kind of assumed that was like…a special ritual that Edme set up?”

“He did it at the river near the guild too,” Tobias grumbles.

Huh. He’s right. Which means…

Curious, and knowing that the legendary would have been able to kill her easily last time they met but decided not to, Nia lifts her hand and holds it over the water.

“You sure?” Junie asks.

Tobias reaches out and grabs Nia’s free arm, as if to make sure he isn’t left behind this time if she’s yanked through again.

With a deep breath, Nia dips her finger gently into the chilled water, trying not to disturb the reflections on the surface. Sure enough, after an inch or two, she hits not the smooth stone of the bowl’s bottom, but the dulled point of something else, ice-cold.

Giratina.

Nia’s brows raise. Curious, she dips the rest of her hand into the bowl. While she can’t wrap her hand around the sheer size of the claw, it’s undeniable that she has surpassed the depth of the bowl itself. Like a magic trick.

“Whoa,��� Junie murmurs again.

Satisfied for now, Nia pulls her hand free, amazed to realize her fur isn’t even wet. She blinks down at the water as it settles. Giratina has pulled away so they can see his face again.

“So when you’re around, you can make any reflection into a portal to the distortion world?” Tobias asks.

The legendary nods.

“Does that only work for Nia? Or for anyone?” Junie asks.

Nia doesn’t know how Giratina does it, but she can practically feel his exasperation through the reflection.

“Oh, r-right. Yes or no questions, Junie.”

“Fine, fine! How about this—can anyone go through a portal you open?”

Giratina nods again.

The three of them sit back as one.

“Huh,” Nia says. “I’m not sure that really changes anything? But I guess it’s good to know that we can check in with you any time if we need to.”

“Could be a helpful escape route in an emergency,” Tobias muses, hand at his chin. “As long as we find a reflection large enough.”

Giratina suddenly jerks, looking off to the side. His eyes narrow. He looks back at them, as if asking if they’re done here. There must be another one of those rumblings in the rift that Nia had experienced while there. A sign of the coming disaster. He probably wants to check it out to make sure it’s nothing more serious.

“I think that’s all we know right now. Um. Thank you for answering?” Nia says, feeling awkward about how exactly she’s supposed to sign off with a legendary.

Giratina nods, then slips out of sight. The reflection of the trees overhead and Nia’s curious face, leant over the bowl, flicker back into sight.

The three of them are quiet for a moment, digesting that experience.

“Okay, so. World-ending terror aside, that was pretty awesome,” Junie says. She hops up, looking all too excited. “We should try to summon more horror monsters before we have to get on the road tomorrow! Bo told me about this Pokémon called Darkrai who gives you nightmares. I don’t think he does it to mess with people, but let’s pretend he does because that’s much scarier.”

Nia can’t help laughing. The tension that had settled over them breaks instantly.

“Darkrai’s a legendary, feather-brain,” Tobias says. “He’s probably already dormant.”

“But he’s the god of nightmares or something! So maybe he’s immune to sleep stuff!”

Nia relaxes and finishes the last few bites of her meal as the two of them start up another silly argument. The exhaustion of the flight and the day’s antics are finally starting to weigh on her, but for at least tonight they can rest here with Junie and Bolat.

Suddenly, with just one more friend at their side, everything ahead doesn’t seem quite as scary.

[ak-vintage]

Miller Tours | Secret Springs Resort

Prompt: Joel Miller & Speedboat Rides

Created for the Secret Springs event hosted by @secretelephanttattoo

Dividers by the incomparable @saradika-graphics

The first words he says to you are a blunder, and though unintentional, you would be lying if you said they didn’t sting a little.

“Howdy. Welcome in.” His voice is low and warm, friendly but somehow calmer, more subdued than you had come to expect from the little beach town’s many small business proprietors. “You must be my 2:00. Boat tour for two?”

He glances up at you from his post behind a weathered, white-washed counter, the little hut at the edge of the marina looking like something out of time. There’s a wooden sign with peeling paint hanging over the door, “MILLER TOURS” printed across its surface in navy blue lettering, and rather than a credit card reader or a sleek tablet on a swiveled mount, he has an old bronze cash register at one end of the counter. Spread out before him are two binders describing the features of different tour packages, and there’s a corkboard on the far wall featuring a collage of sun-bleached photographs of past adventures, all of which are held in place with shining silver pushpins.

Boat tour for two? It makes sense. That is what your reservation was for. Still, something in your chest seizes at the question, and you offer him a pained smile.

“Uh. Just one, actually,” you say, hoping that will be the end of the discussion. Of course, that is wishful thinking.

Quirking a frown at you, the man behind the counter pulls a clipboard from a drawer and scans it quickly. He says your name like a question, and you nod, lips pressed together in a tight line.

“Okay. So Bryan won’t be joining us today?” he asks. You think you see something like understanding in the tightness around his eyes, the way his prominent brows pick up just a bit in the middle, wrinkling his golden, sun-warmed skin.

“Nope. Just me.” You tug at your coverup, a delicate, crocheted thing you’d bought specifically for this trip because of the little peeks of skin it afforded, letting you show off your new bikini while still having the illusion of some coverage. The person you had bought it for, however, is hundreds of miles away now, admiring someone else’s skin, someone else’s body.

And you are here. Alone.

“I…I hope that’s all right. I’ll still pay the two-person fee, it’s not a problem,” you say after a beat of tense, significant silence.

However, instead of the reluctant acquiescence you’re expecting, the man grants you a soft smile, and he shakes his head, his dark, salt and pepper curls bouncing as he does. “That won’t be necessary, darlin’. Why don’t you let me get locked up here, and we can get you out on the water?”

A wave of relief passes over you at that, and you nod readily. “That sounds good…” You hesitate, unsure of how to address him, but he rescues you quickly from any further social awkwardness.

“Captain Miller,” he says as he rounds the counter. He extends a large, calloused hand in your direction, and you shake it happily. His fingers dwarf yours, but rather than feeling intimidated, instead it just makes you feel safe. Cared for. “But you can just call me Joel.”

You spend the afternoon lounging at the back of Joel’s speedboat, a tidy, well-kept thing that cuts through the water like a knife, showering you with mists of saltwater as he makes a circuit up and down the coast of Secret Springs. He lets you run the boat’s radio, lets you choose the speed, lets you tell him when you would like to stop and take pictures and when you would like to keep going. You quickly take off your coverup to bask in the afternoon sun, soaking in its rays and luxuriating in the ocean breeze, and he almost manages to keep his eyes focused on the ocean. You almost manage to stop yourself from blushing under his gaze.

About an hour in, Joel reaches down into the storage compartment underneath the helm and pulls out a cooler with a chilled bottle of crisp white wine and two glasses. He pours you a generous glass, mumbling something about not knowing much about wine but knowing that this one is usually a crowd-pleaser. You, of course, offer him the other glass, and though he protests that he really shouldn’t, that it’s bad manners to drink on the job, he eventually accepts. You pour him his own splash of wine, and when he asks you what you would like to toast to, you tell him, “New beginnings.”

As the sun begins to lower in the sky, Joel takes you to a secluded cove on the southern end of town. There’s an area there that has been roped off for swimming, and he drops anchor and tells you you’re welcome to take a dip if you’d like before he takes you back to the marina. You slip into the cool water with no further prompting, eager to refresh yourself after a day in the summer sun, and this time, he makes no attempt to hide the way that he watches you as you float leisurely in the shallows.

By the time he is pulling the speedboat back up to the marina, hopping out onto the dock to haul it the rest of the way in with a length of rope twisted around his thick, tanned forearm, you realize you haven’t thought about Bryan once all afternoon.

When you head back into the Miller Tours building to settle up on your bill, you ask Joel for a piece of scrap paper, and he hands you the final, useless length of receipt paper from an old roll he had stashed away behind the counter. You hand him back your payment for the excursion, a generous tip, and your phone number and the name of the hotel you’re staying at scrawled across that length of receipt paper.

“You sure about this, darlin’?” he asks you as you head for the door.

You glance back over your shoulder at him and smile, feeling lighter, happier, freer than you have in months.

“Definitely,” you say, and then you watch as Captain Miller slips the piece of paper into the front pocket of his shirt.

Tapping his hand over that pocket, as though to promise you he will keep it safe, he replies, “Get home safe, sweetheart. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. See if we can’t get that ‘new beginning’ you’re after started off right.”

[hauntedestheart]

Security Footage - Ghosts

One of Trevor & Andy's misadventures, a more detailed account of the sort described in Security Measures - Ghosts

"Beach day!" Andy exclaimed, letting out a whoop and charging down the sand towards the water. Trevor followed behind him, shaking his head affectionately at the sight of his boyfriend dashing about like a golden retriever let off the leash.

The two college boys were something of a mismatched couple- Andy was a textbook hunk, a tall jock with muscles to match and an outgoing personality, whereas Trevor was a mid-sized twink who was exactly as shy as he looked. But the two of them were childhood friends who, after a body-swapping incident that Trevor was still embarrassed about, put aside their differences once they realized that they were actually deeply in love with each other.

It was their three week anniversary, which Trevor thought wasn't a big deal but Andy insisted that every moment of their relationship was important ("I wanna make up for lost time," he said) so the two boys had made the ninety minute drive down to the beach for a romantic picnic on the sand, just the two of them. Truth be told Trevor didn't love the beach, but he loved Andy, so he just smiled and nodded as Andy chattered on about how excited he was.

(Besides, he got to watch his hunky boyfriend get soaking wet in swim trunks, so it's not exactly like he was suffering.)

The two of them set up their blanket and nibbled on the tapas Trevor had prepared for a bit before Trevor sighed and told Andy to go swim- he was making more eyes at the water than he was at his boyfriend. The bigger boy grinned apologetically, gave Trevor a peck on the lips, and then tore down the sand and dove into the water.

Trevor reclined on the blanket and watched as Andy paddled out deeper into the waves, his powerful body pushing him out against the surf far deeper than a homebody like Trevor would have dared to venture- he got the sense that there was no way his boyfriend would let the trip end without the two of them taking a dip together, so he resolved to enjoy being dry while he still could. The calm called to him and he let his eyes drift closed for a moment, lulled into relaxation by the gentle crash of the waves and the warm kiss of sunlight on his face, and for once he felt like he could let his guard down.

His peace was interrupted when a strange sort of chill ran up the back of the young man's spine and his body gave an involuntary tremor- a strange sensation to encounter on a warm day in the sun -and something about the feeling gave Trevor a sense of unease. Whatever the intrusion was it had made his skin tingle and tugged at something deep down that felt vaguely familiar for some reason.

"Damn it!" someone whispered.

Trevor's eyes flicked open in a confusion only to find that he was alone with none of the other beachgoers anywhere near him- but he was certain he'd heard a voice right in his ear. Had he just imagined it? Despite his growing suspicions nothing nearby seemed amiss, so he shook his head and tried to put the nerves out of his mind.

An easy distraction presented itself in the shapely form of Andy, who had finished his swim and was making his way back over towards their spot. He rose from the sea like he was on an episode of Baywatch, glistening drops of water cascading down his muscles and swimsuit clinging sinfully to every curve of his lower half, and his body had bounce in all the right places as he sauntered across the sand.

Trevor's first instinct was to avert his eyes, look away in shame before anyone noticed him ogling the gorgeous college stud, but then he remembered that he didn't have to do that anymore. That hunky man over there was his, out and openly, and he had nothing to be afraid of anymore. So instead of shrinking back he let his eyes devour the full course meal in front of him with gusto, and he savored every crumb.

Andy stopped right in front of Trevor and gave a cocky little wink and popped his pecs when he realized he was being admired. His smile was brighter than the sun, and Trevor was so enamored that didn't even mind that his soaking wet boyfriend was dripping water all over him.

Andy gazed down at Trevor with excitement. "You gotta get in there, it feels amazing!"

"Don't mind if I do!"

Trevor's forehead furrowed in confusion- again, it sounded like someone had just whispered something right beside him, and he was about to mention it when something strange caught his eye. A cloud of pale blue hung in the air, translucent but too solid to be merely a trick of the light, and for a split second Trevor thought he caught a glimpse of a smiling face.

Then, before he could react, the wispy mass dove straight for Andy's face.

Andy gave a small yelp of surprise, which turned out to be a mistake because the apparition shoved itself into his open mouth and slid down his throat as if it were some gelatinous mass, disappearing down his gullet effortlessly despite its large size. He swallowed instinctively and gulped the strangeness down, then a moment later he gave a small burp and wisp of something not-quite smoke puffed out of his mouth.

There was a queasy expression on his face as the young man's hands went to his midsection, clutching at himself as if he could feel something strange sliding around behind his abs, and his stomach began to gurgle. To Trevor's ears, it sounded like laughter.

"What the fuck?" Andy managed to sputter out, gritting his teeth as if his insides were tightening up, and then his chest jerked forwards, seemingly against his own will. He glanced down at his body in confusion, then up at his boyfriend with a look of fear on his face, then eyes crossed and he sank to the ground.

Andy's hulking body dropped like a sack of potatoes but thankfully the sand prevented his collapse from being too rough, and instantly Trevor was by his side. He quickly confirmed that Andy was still breathing, but that all he could do before his boyfriend began to convulse wildly and he was left to watch in terror.

Andy's body seemed to have lost control over its pronounced musculature, each individual muscle tensing and flexing as if they were moving on their own and making it appear as if his body were fighting itself. He jerked around wildly, limbs flailing as he waged some kind of war internally, and their uncontrolled movements sent him rolling over onto his stomach. Then he started humping the ground, hips flying up and down wildly with his big ass thrusting as he mashed his crotch into the sand, and grunts issued from somewhere deep within him. It was hard to tell if those were groans of pain, or of ecstasy.

He flipped over onto his back again, giving Trevor a look at his handsome face scrunched up with exertion, then with a yelp he gave one mighty hip thrust that sent his entire body airborne for a moment. When he hit the ground again he went still, with only the heaving of his massive chest to show that he was still alive.

"Andy? ANDY?" Trevor patted at his boyfriend's face, frantically trying to revive him, but before he could succumb to full blown panic Andy's eyes shot open.

The hunk bolted upright so rapidly that Trevor had to stumble backwards to avoid being slammed into, and then he lifted his hands and stared at them with a strange expression on his face.

"I'm in?" The young man asked, seemingly in disbelief of something, and he opened and closed his fingers a few times like he was experimenting with their movement. He took his hands and placed them on his chest, pressing into the meat of his pecs to test how solid they were, and the answer apparently delighted him because huge grin broke out on his face. "I'm in!" He cheered, then both of his hands flew down and clutched at his crotch. He cradled the prominent bulge in the front of his wet swim trunks, fingers rolling slightly as he probed at his genitals, and his eyes widened and his grin got even bigger. "Oh yeah baby, I'm back in business!"

"Back in business?" Trevor's heart began beating double time- something was wrong. He squinted at his boyfriend, watching as the young hunk began patting his hands all up and down his body like he was feeling it for the first time. "What are you talking about? Andy, you're not making any sense. What just happened? Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm just peachy!" Andy's face turned and he leered at Trevor, lecherously, and Trevor's stomach turned. His sweet boyfriend had never once looked at him like that- like he was nothing but a piece of meat. "I'm feeling better than ever. In fact, why don't you lean in and give me a smooch, sweet cheeks?"

Andy reached for him, lips puckered, but Trevor shrank away, taken aback by how his boyfriend was acting. His behavior was different, his way of speaking was different... a thought crossed Trevor's mind. It seemed impossible, but given what had happened between the two boys in the past, the impossible might be the usual.

"You're not Andy, are you?" Trevor ventured cautiously, watching from a safe distance as Andy squeezed at his pecs like a fruit vendor inspecting produce to see how fresh it was. "You're someone else inside of him."

Andy (or, what appeared to be Andy) stopped in his exploration of his body and look of surprise crossed his face, which then melted into a smirk. He rose to his feet and shook himself out, stretching his arms and legs the way someone would when slipping on a jacket for the first time and wanting to get a feel for it, and he whipped around to face Trevor.

"Oh, you're a smart one, aren't you?" He cackled, and his eyes flashed neon blue for a moment. A familiar chill ran down Trevor's spine. "Well I'm afraid your boyfriend isn't here right now, I'm just a friendly ghost taking his meatsuit for a spin. You don't mind, right?"

Trevor's mind reeled. "A ghost?"

"Oof, he's a big boy, isn't he?" The ghost rolled Andy's shoulders backwards, shifting his bulk around awkwardly for a moment as he settled in to his borrowed form. He lifted his arms into a double bicep pose, whistling in admiration as he watched the huge muscles flex, and he bounced them up and down. "I don't normally get to take over stallions like this, usually I can only get control of old people and weaklings. But this!" He took his fist and pounded at his abs, smiling at the meaty sound of flesh on flesh. "This is primo real estate baby. I hit the fucking jackpot!"

"This can't be happening..." Trevor muttered to no one in particular. The ghost nodded emphatically in agreement.

"You're telling me, I can't believe it!" The ghost's face (well, Andy's face) was lit up with excitement as he puffed his chest out, petting his hands appreciatively down his stolen physique. He was practically trembling with excitement, hands flying everywhere as if he couldn't decide which parts of Andy's studly form he wanted to molest first. "After I couldn't take over you I thought for sure I'd have no shot with the big guy but nope, his body sucked me in like a hoover! He was practically begging to be taken over!"

Why would Andy be weak to- Trevor pondered for a moment, and a sinking feeling came into the pit of his stomach when he made the connection. He vaguely recalled reading something about side effects to the swap spell he'd used several weeks ago to take over Andy's body, and this must be one of them. This is bad.

"You need to get out of him right now!" Trevor demanded, gathering together all of the authority he could muster, but he knew he had no sway in the situation- normally he loved how ripped his boyfriend was but at the moment it was a disadvantage because if it came to force the ghost could easily use Andy's body to pulverize him. But still, he had to be strong for his boyfriend and at least try to protect him.

Predictably, the ghost just laughed at him and shook his head. "No, what I need to do is get out there and have some fun! I can't let a stud like this go to waste!"

To illustrate his point he yanked down his shorts and Andy's cock and balls came flopping out, the tools hanging out in the open air, and the ghost whooped with glee at the sight. All of the attention the spirit had been lavishing upon Andy's body was starting to cause a reaction and his penis was already plump with blood, creating a rather obscene sight- and from experience, Trevor knew that this "problem" was only going to get bigger.

Trevor's eyes darted around nervously, acutely aware that his boyfriend's naked body was now on display at a public beach. "Put that away, somebody is going to see!"

"Somebody? I want everybody to see!" The ghost wiggled his hips from side to side and his new dick whipped through the air with gusto, eager to obey its new master's command, and the ghost seemed almost hypnotized by the movement. Trevor couldn't blame him- but he had to try to stop him.

Thinking quickly, Trevor grabbed the blanket out from beneath himself and attempted to wrap it around Andy's body so he could conceal his boyfriend's nude form from prying eyes, but the ghost took a big step back out of reach and the smaller boy wound up faceplanting in the sand instead. He somehow managed to get tangled up in the fabric, incapacitating him and making so all he could do was stare up helplessly.

He saw his boyfriend's body looming above him, a pillaring tower of muscle with bronzed skin gleaming in the sun, and when viewed from beneath Andy's manhood seemed almost impossibly massive. Andy's handsome face smirked down at him and he gave a cocky little flex of his muscles and it was one of the hottest things Trevor had ever seen, but in that moment, all it did was fill him with thread.

"Fleshies just don't get it- you're on this planet to have a good time, there's no room for shame! And your boy here has nothing to be ashamed of..." The ghost placed one hand on Andy's now hard cock and he shivered, giving one long, agonizingly slow stroke of the shaft before dropping it. "But I don't wanna blow my load too soon, I have a full day of fun ahead of me with my new toy!"

He bent down and pulled Andy's swim trunks back up, struggling for a moment as he tried to stuff his oversized boner into the shorts and only partially succeeding as the full outline of his hard cock was still plainly visible as it strained through the wet fabric. The ghost placed his hands on his hips and smiled down at his handiwork, then turned his attention back to Trevor.

"Chin up fleshie, you'll get him back!" He winked at the still prone boy. "After I'm done with him, of course. And look at the bright side! You get to watch me walk away." He turned and smacked his ass, his borrowed bubble butt bouncing up and down as he jogged away down the beach.

Trevor lay there, sprawled out on the sand, and watched as a ghost ran off to do god-knows-what while wearing his boyfriend's face. For a moment he felt powerless- poor Andy was going to be completely humiliated, or worse, and it was all Trevor's fault.

Then he untangled himself, grabbed his bag, and set off in pursuit. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he was going to save his boyfriend no matter what.

Hopefully this is a one-time thing, he thought to himself... naively.

[utahimeow]

head over heels — shoyo hinata

summary — at an msby match, shoyo hinata catches your eye. apparently, you catch his too.

pairing — shoyo hinata x gn!reader

warnings — none

word count — 1k

author’s note — this was meant to be a drabble??

Shoyo Hinata literally falls for you.

The Black Jackals are dominating the match–unsurprising for a team known for their aggression, of course. But from your courtside seat, everything is so much more real. You’re almost among the players–Atsumu Miya performs his signature serve just a few feet away and you can see every wrinkle on his shirt.

Every detail on the players’ faces becomes crystal clear. Every point lost is so much more devastating. Every dive to save the ball is that much more dramatic.

There’s Shoyo Hinata. Number twenty-one. Down here, his charm radiates outwards like rays from the sun. He beams triumphantly after a successful spike and your heart skips a beat. Pretty bronze eyes sparkle, wrinkling at the edges because that’s just how hard he’s smiling. You’ve had a soft spot for the opposite hitter ever since you started following the Jackals two years ago.

From up higher in the stands or on a screen, he leaps high, but down on the ground he soars, far higher than you can even comprehend. The hard muscles of his thighs and calves ripple as the notorious Little Giant touches three metres with ease and slams the ball down. The whistle blows before you’ve even realised he’s scored.

It’s Koutarou Bokuto’s turn to serve. Somehow he’s even bigger and broader than you thought. To your surprise, he doesn’t service ace. The other team barely manages to get the ball up.

Their setter sets up for a quick, but dumps it, but Miya saves it in a dive. It’s up again. Bokuto attempts a straight. Their libero receives it. The setter has it. The hitter slams it to the back of the Jackals’ court. Bokuto receives it but it flies back–it’s coming to you.

You blink, and just like that, Shoyo Hinata is sprinting full speed towards the ball–towards you–diving just a foot away from you and he succeeds. The ball bounces off his thumb and it’s back up.

He pulls himself to his feet but he freezes for a moment. His eyes meet yours and they’re filled with such a ferocity, such a fierce determination unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. It sends chills down your spine, leaving your breath catching in your throat. For a split second you swear a grin flickers on his lips, then concentration falls over his pretty features again and he’s dashing back to the court.

Your eyes don’t leave him for the entire rest of the game. And maybe it’s all in your head, but you’d bet your life on the fact that he keeps stealing glances at you. It’s not like he’s looking at his teammates–you’re sat directly behind him. There’s nothing for him to look at. Well, except you.

In the final set, the Jackals are at match point, yet their opponents refuse to let up. Each team fights to keep the ball in the air. In the end, the Jackals are victorious with one of Bokuto’s spikes.

The crowd cries and hollers as the winning team huddles up. You’re on your feet, cheering them on with pride buzzing through your veins. Then it happens again–through the growing crowd of players celebrating on the court, Hinata’s gaze locks on you. All red and gleaming with sweat, he smiles bright as always, then he’s being pulled to the bench to recover.

A lady informs you that some of the players will be over soon to greet fans and you freeze. Somehow you’d forgotten about the poster you’d brought in hopes that you’d get it signed. Your excited buzz quickly gets replaced with a pit in your stomach. You’re going to see Hinata up close.

He starts a couple of people down your row, but that only means you have more time to get nervous. With each person that he chats to, your hands get shakier and shakier. You’re playing out the possible scenarios in your head, considering the things you can say, and ask, and how you should act, and–

“Hi.” It’s Hinata. Your favourite MSBY Black Jackals player. Somehow it’s your turn already.

“Hi!” you say, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

“I’m Shoyo… um, Shoyo Hinata,” he says. He’s still smiling. god, His eyes are so warm. His hair is so pretty, even when it’s all messed up after playing. He’s shorter, yes, but he’s so… buff. Extremely buff. His biceps bulge as he runs a hand through the front of his hair.

“I know,” is what you reply, laughing to hide the fact that you want to curl into a ball.

He laughs too and oh, your entire face grows hot and your heart is beating in your ears and he’s staring at you gently but somehow it’s so intense.

“Do you think you could sign this for me?” you ask once you eventually pull yourself from your daze by reminding yourself that you can’t possibly embarrass yourself in front of Shoyo Hinata. You’re pulling the poster and a sharpie from your bag as you ask him.

“Yes! I can do that, definitely,” he replies. “What’s your name?”

You could melt.

You squeak out the syllables of your name and he scribbles down a message, then his signature, then he pauses.

“…I was gonna sign my number, but then I didn’t wanna be creepy,” he chuckles. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you the whole game though. So I’ll be polite and ask if I could have your number? Only if you don’t have a boyfriend! Sorry for assuming, uh...”

You wave him off, your cheeks burning and the world around you spinning a little.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, don’t worry. You played pretty well, so I guess you can have my number,” you tease, giggling a little as you hand him your phone.

Once he’s put his number in, he hands the phone back and you shoot him a text to say it’s you. When you look up, he’s grinning the exact way he did when he won his game.

“I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter One

Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: Anxious theme, Bickering, Brotherly Taunting, Uncomfortable situations, Yearning (oh the yearning) Smoking, Alcohol (it's a bar- feels self explanatory but just for safety) Shitty dad jokes, and silly goofy boy time!

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Jake has spent most of his 20's single or just random dates here and there. Unfortunately for him, his brothers and their partners are all on board for trying to find him the love of his life.

Author's Note: hehe hi :) I couldn't resist any longer. I hope you love Jake as much as I do.

Beggars Song - Matt Maeson "Oh yeah, I'm a beat down, washed up, son of a bitch, I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent, but I'ma Be damned if I let it keep me down."

The soft ‘click’ of the door latching behind me as I sneak out of Willa and Quinn’s apartment. It stopped snowing a few hours ago, so the plows have had time to take care of the roads. Hopefully, they could get out of there quickly enough to make it home. I can’t be shocked that we all got roped into a slumber party, especially with Josh involved. I honestly didn’t even mind it; sometimes, spending time with everyone is nice, not in the bar. My heart was whole, watching everyone laugh and smile together. 

Their apartment complex wasn’t too far from the bar, but I don’t trust the roads enough to drive the speed limit.

‘Oh, what a night, 

Late December back in ‘63..’ 

“Oooh, this one hits,” I say as the song fills the car. Turning the volume, I tap along on my steering wheel. Taking my time, I can appreciate how the snow softly coats the trees, which kind of makes up for the lack of leaves. The sun feels extra bright today, bouncing off all the snow piles and practically making the ground light up. 

‘What a lady, what a night.’ 

“Oh, I, I got a funny feeling when she walked in the room,” I quietly sing along. I’ve always been a little partial to the “oldies” as they say on the radio, but I grew up listening to all of it. Maybe I’m just a sucker for nostalgia. 

Pulling into my usual spot, ‘Oh, what a night,’ I sit for a second, contemplating whether I should run upstairs real quick or go into the bar. I probably should at least change. I’ve been in these clothes for almost twenty-four hours. 

As fast as I can, without busting my ass on the ice, I walk to the stairwell. It’s unfortunately not the most insulated, so I hustle upstairs; the first chilly days always catch you off guard.  The warmth hits me when I get into the apartment, my body letting out one last shiver, shaking the chill from outside off. 

After finding a clean button-up and switching into new pants, I feel like a new human. I take a few minutes to brush my teeth, spray myself with some cologne, and then make a cup of coffee. The warm drink on a cold day routine never misses. I scroll through my emails while waiting for my coffee to finish brewing before heading to the bar. 

The brisk air has me running down the stairs, fumbling with my keys to unlock the back door to the bar. I quickly turn the keys, hearing the heavy ‘clunk’ of the deadbolt flipping over. I scoot myself inside, pulling the door shut behind me while letting out another shiver. 

My body freezes when I hear sounds coming from the actual bar. Jesus Christ, NO. My heart rate spikes as I creep down the hallway, not wanting to give myself away. As if whoever or whatever is in here didn’t hear the door, you dumbass.  I still can’t see out into the bar, but the faint sounds are becoming much less muffled as I get closer.

“Fuck, what do we do?” 

“Just get dressed, baby. Go, go, go.” 

Is that Danny? I take a few more steps before finally seeing his tall figure standing shirtless near one of the end booths. He’s clearly buttoning his pants when I see a pair of smaller arms reach out behind him. Oh my god, Melody.  I watch as he fumbles around, trying to flip his shirt from inside out, when he turns around and locks eyes with me. I can see any ounce of life drain from his face from a mile away. 

We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. Still, it is realistically ten seconds before I spit out the only question I can manage to think of, “What the fuck is going on?” 

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“Jake, really, I’m so sorry,” Dan is about to plead his case now. 

Looking at him, I take a deep breath, knowing he genuinely feels terrible about this. “It’s fine,” I say, touching his arm. 

“I will just take the day to really clean the bar, I suppose,” letting the smile sneak onto my face to ease the tension. 

He lets a small laugh, “I’ll help since it’s my bad anyway.” 

“Oh god,” I let slip. That was supposed to be an inside thought, but here we are. 

“What?” 

I silently point to the camera behind the bar. I won’t lie: Watching the emotions cycle through his face wasn’t a little funny. Melody looked wide-eyed as the realization hit her as well. 

“Oh shit, oh my god,”  

“You quite literally helped me install them,” I let out an uncomfortable laugh, “I don’t know how you forgot.” 

He runs both hands over his face before finally asking, “Can we just.. delete that.. ALL of that..please?” His voice is coated in desperation as he keeps looking over at Melody.  

“I’m certainly not going to watch it, Danny.” Relief washes over him as if he really thought I would watch that.  

“Let’s agree to never bring this up.. again.. Ever?” I cock an eyebrow at him, taking a quick glance at Melody as well. She nods aggressively.  

“What are we never bringing up?” Sam’s sing-songy tone radiates through the bar. God damn it. 

Josh’s loud voice followed suit, “Oh, I love a good secret!” Of course, he came with Sam. 

“That is between you guys and Danny,” I put my hands up, “I have cleaning I need to get done.” I look over to Dan, trying not to laugh. The look on his face is screaming that he knows he’s screwed now that Josh is here. Everybody is about to know his little secret. 

“If you need to go for a little bit, do what you need to,” I lean in and whisper to Melody as I pass her. She gives me a thumbs-up and mouths, ‘Thank you,’ as I head down the hall. 

“Goodmorning, brother,” Josh’s voice comes from behind me as I grab some cleaning supplies from our storage closet. 

“I’m surprised you guys got here this early?” 

When I left the apartment, I didn’t think anybody would be moving for quite a while. The few of us in the living room, all sleeping on the makeshift bed we crafted with extra blankets and pillows. Sam dipped at some point in the night to Willa’s bed, what a party pooper. 

“I couldn’t fall back to sleep after you left, and I heard Sam moving around,” he tells me, “We figured you could use some help getting the bar situated after last night anyway.” Reaching out to take the broom and dustpan from me. 

Surprised that they wanted to help, I quickly said, “Oh, well, thanks bub.” Not that they didn’t usually help out if I asked, but it was a bit more dependent on me asking, which I’m candidly not great at doing. 

“So, what exactly needs to be cleaned?” Sam finally caves. 

I smile at him, knowing what he’s trying to do, “Let’s just say we’re taking the opportunity to really make sure everything is clean.” Grabbing a rag and some disinfectant to start wiping everything down. 

“Well,” he instigates further, “I just didn’t know if there was like a specific booth or something.” He unsuccessfully chokes back a laugh.

Josh quickly cut him off, “I’m sure he asked for specifics,” 

I bite my tongue so as not to laugh at the argument that will start. If there’s anything I know, it’s that these two can’t help but start shit with each other. 

“It was just a question, Josh.”

“You’re just picking at him for no reason. He said we’re cleaning everything, so just clean.”

“You know why we’re cleaning. That’s why you’re being defensive,” Sam says, his voice rising as he realizes. 

Josh gasps dramatically, “You DO listen to your girlfriend. Oh my god, I’m so proud of you!” 

“Oh, fuck off,” 

Josh laughed loud: “It doesn’t take much to figure out what happened, Samuel. Just use that little brain of yours for a minute, and maybe you’ll piece it together.” 

I sit in a booth to wipe the table down, just listening to them go back and forth. Josh isn’t wrong.. If he really did just stop to think about it, he would figure it out. Or, literally, just ask Danny. I never said he couldn’t ask him.

“I’m not that stupid, I know that-” Sam starts but immediately stops when he sees Danny walk back in. 

“What are we yelling about?”

“The two of them are bickering about why we’re cleaning,” I say plainly, with my eyebrows raised and a tight-lipped smile. 

His eyes widen, clearing his throat before saying, “Yeah, uh, people were a bit frantic last night trying to get out of here when the storm started, and we also didn’t want to get stuck too long, so we just.. didn’t have time to clean.” He couldn’t be worse at lying, but I think Sam will let it slide because of how uncomfortable he looks right now. 

“Now, why couldn’t you just say that?” Sam turns, looking back over at Josh. Jesus Christ, here we go. 

“Because that’s obviously not the reason, they clearly–” 

“Good morning, Krusty Krew!” Quinn sings through the bar, thank god. 

“Did we interrupt something?” Willa asks through a laugh. 

“Yes, thank you,” I speak before the other two can. 

It’s fun to watch as they both make their way over to their respective partners. Josh and Quinn always seem like they haven’t seen each other in years, even if it’s only been 20 minutes. The way they just curl into each other at any given moment. And then there’s Sam and Willa. Her laugh radiates through a room whenever Sam is around; they constantly pick on each other about something. He presses a kiss to the side of her head before she starts to walk away, but not before he swats at her ass, and she flips him off. She’s a saint for putting up with him. 

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I listened to everyone’s chatter until Josh and Sam started bickering again. I motion to Danny to say that I’m going outside for a minute before grabbing a cigarette from my office. Walking out the back door in the crisp air, I pull out my lighter and try to beat the wind. That first inhale is always the most rewarding. I told myself when I left the shipyard that I would cut back; the guys I worked with were heavy smokers, and it’s easy to fall into that trap. Now, I settle for one a day, and honestly, some days, I don’t bother; I find that when I’m stressed, I tend to go for it, but I’ve stuck to my guns and not gone back to smoking aggressively. 

I walk across the street, finding my usual spot to watch the boats slowly sail out to the ocean. I like to come here when I need a moment. I’m unsure why I’m feeling more anxious today than usual, but my chest feels heavy. Why do I feel so alone?

It’s not that I can’t be alone. I obviously have made it this long without someone; I have just spent the last two years watching everyone close to me find love. I never really feel lonely because they are all part of the family at this point, but I do have days where I can’t help but be almost..jealous. My mind keeps wandering as I take another drag. Is there something I’m doing that just makes me not worthy of dating? I’ve never understood why, out of all the dates I’ve been on in the last handful of years, none of them have worked out. God, I sound so pathetic.   

I enjoy the last moments of my smoke break, forcing myself to focus on the boat coming into the dock. I can’t seem bothered when I go inside, or they’ll notice. 

Finally, making my way back inside, I see Josh and Quinn in one booth and Sam with Willa in another. They don’t seem to notice that I’ve snuck back in, so I just spend some time cleaning up and organizing behind the bar while there’s nobody to actually tend to. 

I start mindlessly wiping down the wine glasses, trying to make them as clean as possible. Josh and Quinn are in my line of sight; it’s hard not to notice how in love they are. Always sitting on the same side of any table, whether it’s a booth or a typical table setting, they’re attached at the hip. They’re always touching. Whether it’s just sitting close enough, one of them can move their leg closer, or right now, where Quinn is just tracing their finger along his jawline and down the bridge of his nose. They lean in, pressing a kiss to his nose before he tugs them in quickly for a real kiss. This is dreadful. I really can’t remember the last time I kissed someone. Am I that touch starved that I’m jealous of my brother? The squeak from the glass reminds me where I am. I shake my head, putting it back in its place and grabbing a new glass. 

I glance over to the other booth; Willa has her head propped up in her hand as she looks at my brother. Even though they instigate each other most often, it’s always with love. She has a soft smile plastered on her face as she nods to whatever he’s saying. Running his hand down her forearm every so often, it’s weird seeing Sam so.. domestic? Willa really is perfect for him, though. I knew the moment she put him in his place while on a date with SOMEONE ELSE. How she looks at him like he’s the greatest thing ever created is incredibly sweet. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I can see the way her eyes light up before she calls him ‘babe.’  I put the last glass back in place, tossing the towel under the bar. 

I think I have scrubbed every inch of this bar today, I think to myself, leaning into my hand. The music is lower since there’s nobody here, and everybody is currently preoccupied. I let my mind wander for a minute. 

The feeling of being so excited to see someone that your heart flutters. Being able to just hold someone close. God, getting to kiss them endlessly— nothing is better than that. Feeling them smile at you, ugh. Being so wrapped up in each other, pulling her into your lap so you can just have her as close as possible. Someone to call sweet things and have them call me ‘babe.’ Fuck me. I need a wife. Can I just skip to the being in love part? I don’t want to waste my time on girls who will just leave after a couple of months. I just want to fall helplessly in love and spend every day making sure they feel the same. 

“Jake?” Sam loudly says, waving his hand in front of me. 

My body jumps involuntarily, “For fucks sake.” 

“Good daydream, huh?” Josh teases. I fight the warm feeling creeping into my face, rolling my eyes subtly. 

“What do you guys want?” 

“Will you make us drinks, please?” Josh asks, trying to recover from his taunting. 

“Quinn and Willa too?” I double-check as I’m grabbing glasses. They both nod in sync. 

I kept letting out little sighs, which, to be fair, I didn’t think were that obvious. Turning and setting one of the drinks in front of them, my eyebrows pulled together. 

“Why do you look so angry?” Sam asks. 

“I’m not?” I quip back. Unfortunately, it didn’t come out as convincing as I would have liked. 

“I really think you just need to get laid or something, Jake,” Josh laughs out, “you need someone to take the edge off!” he laughs, nudging Sam with his elbow. You’re telling me. 

“When do I have the time, Josh? Come on,” I can’t help the attitude that comes out, but given the day I’ve had so far— getting harassed for not getting laid is not helping. 

“Honestly, you just seem tense lately,” Sam pipes up, “maybe if you actually flirted with one of the pretty girls who comes in, you could get off once in a while.” Josh barks out a laugh towards Sam, but I see Dan pointing in our direction as I listen to my personal peanut gallery giggle. 

Rolling my eyes at them as they keep egging each other on, “Trust me, I’d love for my wife to walk through those doors, but I don’t see that happening.” 

I turn to finish making drinks for the boys, trying to ignore them, squawking about my lack of sex life. As I set out a few glasses on the counter, I heard a lower, raspy female voice ring behind me, “Could I speak with Mr. Kiszka?” 

I turn around to a petite redhead dressed very professionally. Her button-up was a pale yellow, tucked into some grayish-blue slacks. Her hair curled perfectly, and her dark red lips stood out against her pale complexion.  

“Which one?” we all answer in unison. 

She flips open her folder, looking at whatever papers are in there, and I can’t seem to look away from her. She’s … so hot?  

“Um, Jacob Kiszka, I’m sorry.”

She looks up at me, making direct eye contact. Green. Her eyes are green.  

I manage to muster up the ability to ask, “What do you need from me, dear?” Dear? Am I ninety?  The sounds of my brother’s giggling prevented any level of silence between us. 

“Well, I’m sorry to do this to you randomly, Mr. Kiszka,” she says confidently; her voice is so pretty.“Mr. Kiszka is our father. Please call me Jake,”  I say, trying to lighten the mood as I extend my arm out to shake her hand across the bar. It feels like a small jolt to my heart as her hand firmly grabs mine, and she tells me, “Charlotte Rhodes.”

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Chapter Two

FDOG Masterpost | Masterlist | Prologue | FDOG Playlist

If you ask nicely, I may be so inclined to drop Chapter 2 sooner than next Thursday .. is all i'm going to say. 🤭

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[zialltops]

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

Joel (41) / F!reader (25) | 4.7k | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak

Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky attitude or her sinfully tight jeans.

a/n: hi guys!! I’m fresh off finishing east side of sorrow and couldn’t wait to hop into this work. I can not thank everyone enough for the fun we had with esos, but i am beyond stoked to meet this joel because i am ferallllll for him all dirty on a ranch with a cowboy hat on a horse ughhhh, give it to me already. anyways, let me know if you like it 🤍 thank you to @sawymredfox for letting me idea dump on you and give me all kinda of ideas! i love you to pieces! this ones for you my dear!

A03 Link | Spotify Link | Masterlink

Pt. 1: Oklahoma Smokeshow

Half a mile from the turnpike, two miles from home, along the winding and twisting asphalt of Cold Creek road, Joel Miller rasps his gloved hand against the steering wheel of the Rising Sun Ranch’s newly bought—second (maybe fifth?) hand old pickup truck. A beat up nineties chevy with rust on the floorboard and a new-car tree hanging from the rearview mirror. Beside him, his brother Tommy bounces his knee while he takes a long drag off his second cigarette since this drive started. The smoke plumes through the window, then back inside when the chill outside pushes the hot smoke back into the cab, whirling around Joel's senses like it belongs there. The smell is insufferable and makes Joel’s skin crawl, takes him to a time before ropers scars and belt buckles.

“Know that shit’s gon’ kill you, right?” He doesn’t need to look over at his brother's form beside him to know the younger man is anxious, like he usually is on long car rides. “You used to do it too, big brother.” Joel scuffs at him, keeps his one gloved hand on the wheel as he keeps on driving. He’s not wrong, if he wants to talk about the Joel of ten years ago, a distant, ragged and angry version of himself. “Don’t remind me.” He keeps his eyes fixed on the snow coated road ahead of him. He’s cautious at this time of the year, the winter storms usually leave them stranded on the ranch for a few weeks, but he’s lucky enough to have caught the dark clouds before they started to let down too much. The salt on the roads seem to do the trick for the time being, so long as he stays away from the embankment and keeps his eyes on the dimming road ahead.

It was mid day, but the sun sets early in the winter, so it hangs low in the sky amongst the cold abyss, like it’s desperately reaching out for the horizon—like it wants to run from this place too. He looks ahead and silently wishes to himself that he could follow those last rays of sunshine into tomorrow, like maybe he would find something there.

He shakes the thought and sets his mind back on track, why they were out here. “When we get back to the ranch, you need to find a way to apologize to Miss Lou. She really was just tryin’ to be helpful, Tommy. She ain’t wrong for that.” Louise had always been more than welcoming and kind to them, she’s saved their asses more than once and she feeds them more than she needs to, but his brother can never seem to let a good thing be, always biting the hand that attempted to feed him.

“Don’t like it when people go through my shit, man, you know that.” He’s nearly done with his cigarette, thank fuck because Joel wants to grab it from his hand himself and chuck it out the window. “She wasn’t goin’ through your stuff, dipshit, she was doin’ your laundry! Doesn’t give you any right to snap at someone like that. Especially a nice lady who’s husband give’s us a dollar in our pocket and a roof over our heads. Do you have any Idea where we’d be without that?”

It cuts deep because Tommy flicks his butt out the window and sinks down in his seat, he knows Joel is right because they are incredibly lucky to be where they are now. They would probably never find somewhere as appealing as their little shared hunting cabin a half mile from the main house. “Hank ain’t happy,” he adds, like Tommy doesn’t already know that after the argument that led to them leaving. “We wouldn’t be out in a goddamned snow storm for fuckin’ flowers if Hank was happy.”

Joel finally glances over, but when he does, it’s at the bouquet of flowers sitting beside him on the bench seat. “Doesn’t matter, you still need to apologize—to both of them. We wouldn’t have shit if it weren’t for them—“ they wouldn’t, they were on their last leg, hitchhiking across half the country when they found an ad outside of the feed store in Jackson looking for a ranch hand in exchange for room and board. Joel gave them two for the price of one and the rest was history. Tommy makes an annoyed sound and interrupts. “Joel, what's that?” Directly in front of them, on the side of the road caught in an embankment is a little blue car sunk all the way down to the lug nuts. It doesn’t look like the person lost control, but they just drove into the embankment.

This road isn’t frequented and the cell service is spotty, but the taillights on the car tell him there's someone inside. “I’m stoppin’ to help,'' Joel informs him, but Tommy shifts and rolls his eyes—he’s never been the humanitarian type. “Why? I’m sure they can pay for a tow truck. Besides, if they are stupid enough to get stuck in an embankment, they can suffer.” Usually, Joel would agree, but the closer they get to Christmas, the more that iced over heart of his starts to thaw out.

Joel stops the truck on the road and leaves it running while he looks over at his brother. “Ain’t leavin’ nobody stuck out here in this storm, even if they’re stupid. They won't make it through the night.” He shuts the door behind him and stuffs his hands into his pockets. An agitated gust of air leaves his lungs in the form of cloudy condensation amongst the snowfall. He walks up to the car, leaning down so he can glance inside without getting too close. Through the fogged window, he can make out the figure of a woman leaned against the steering wheel, her face casted by her hair hanging all around while she slumps her head against the wheel. Stupid—stupid girl. What the hell is she doing way out here?

He rasps against the window and she jolts just as Tommy comes up behind him, finally having left the comfort of the truck cab. “S’a girl, should have guessed.” Tommy interjects with a crude tone, thankfully before she rolls the window down. She looks a little scared and a lot embarrassed, her eyes are red like she’s been crying her heart out. It doesn’t make Joel sad, it makes him uncomfortable. Emotions make his skin crawl, make him uneasy. He doesn’t handle people crying well, he doesn’t know how to react to it, what he should say or do.

“You need someone to pull you out?” He asks, trying his best to sound mellow tempered and helpful. He’s not, but he won't be able to sleep tonight if he has to drive by the coroner unsticking her frozen body from the seats in the morning. “I’m so sorry—I was checking my phone because my mom texted me and I didn’t see the corner—“ stuck in the snow because she was on her fucking phone? “You hit a snow embankment because you were textin’? You dim or somethin’, girl?” She gives him a hard glance, eyebrows pulled together tightly. “I’m not dim, but I can tell you’re dense.”

Tommy scuffs from beside him and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll grab the chain,” he tells his brother as he heads towards the truck. “I’m gonna pull you out, but after that you’re on your own, kid. This storm is just starin’, might be smart if you headed back to whatever city you blew in from.”

She’s the furthest thing from appreciative when Joel hooks a chain to the frame of her car and the hitch on the front of the old red chevy. When she gets out of the little blue car, Joel gets the full extent of how unprepared she is for a full on impending whiteout snowstorm. Her pants have rips and holes, like they are meant to be there, no way they are offering any kind of protection from the chill. Her boots have a three inch heel like she’s walking along some new york sidewalk with a tiny dog in her arms. She has a jacket, fur lining the hood and yet she’s still shaking like it all does nothing to protect her from the snow.

“Thank you for doing this, but I really could have called a tow truck or something. They probably would have been a lot nicer about it.” Her voice is dripping with disdain when he stands upright again. “You want nice, or you want to be dead? Because there ain’t no company sending a driver out here when were forecasted to get two feet overnight.”

She puts her hands on her hips in an attempted threatening manner, like that might scare Joel into an apology when she looks like an angry child who didn’t get their way. Joel hated people like this, too good for the world with their nose up in the air. He turns around to head back to the truck when he spots the piles of boxes in her back seat. Great—another fuckin’ know it all who think’s living out here is romantic and rustic. “You movin’ out here somewhere? You know there ain’t a mall for like, a hundred and fifty miles, right?”

She’s irritated now, with all the rude comments Joel is throwing her way—but he doesn’t care because the last thing this place needs is more city people thinking they can tame this untouched land. It shouldn’t bother him, because how long could she really last out here anyways? With those three inch heels and clothes fit for a concrete jungle, not muddy plains and cattle. She won't make it a month out here in the dead of winter.

“Just pull my car out, or leave me be, because the last thing I need right now is to get harassed by some old dumb fuck cowboy.” Dumb cowboy? Old? Like he’s the fucking moron out here in the middle of a blizzard in a car with bald ass tires and pants with holes in them. Maybe he should fucking leave, let her strand around trying to find a signal to call a tow company that wont come. “You know what?” Teach her a lesson, maybe then she’ll learn this place isn’t for people like her. With her done up hair and makeup—she’s pretty, unnaturally so—like she’s trying to damn hard to look that good—god damnit—“walk around in those stupid fucking shoes and see if you can find your own way out,” he leans down and undoes the hook under her car roughly. “Come on Tommy, were out of here.” She stomps her foot in the snow and starts to pace back to her car.

Joel makes his way back to the truck and unhooks the chain from the front. He’s had a long fucking day of taking care of his idiot bothers problems and he doesn’t have the patience to help some girl who doesn’t know what’s good for her.

“Hey, big brother.” It’s Tommy’s voice in his ears when he finally closes the door behind himself, huffing in discontent as he puts it in gear. “What.” He snaps, backing away from the stuck car and those sinfully tight jeans on that tight little—mother fucking son of a bitch, stop it!—he cant stand people like her, fucking with his head and getting under his skin. The type of girls who have looked him up and down and laughed in his face at the thought of someone like him being up to standard for someone like them. That snot nosed brat can sit in the snow, for all he cares.

“No need to get all hostile at me, man—I’m just checkin’ on ya. You’re all red and pissy, and nothin’ gets you all worked up like that.” He shrugs beside him with a cocky sort of snort. “I mean, unless—“ Joel jerks on the wheel and sneers over at his brother. “Drop it. Not another fucking word or I’ll leave you here too.”

Tommy’s jaw snaps shut and he looks out the passenger window, the radio playing quietly while the storm picks up, and the road carries on. Joel doesn’t think about what he’s done, only how his knee bounces and his hands flex the whole way back to the ranch. How his heart pounds and his blood rushes and it makes his head throb.

When they pull into the muddy drive, he shuts off the truck and turns towards his brother and the bouquet of flowers. “You really need to mean it when you talk to them, I’m serious. They are nice people who’ve looked out for us for two years. We owe them that, at least.” His little brother seems serious when he nods, so Joel passes him the flowers and heads inside. They have sacrificed so much to help Joel and Tommy. They’d been through dark winters with them, when they lost half the herd to the cold and Joel spent the night in the barn with what was left to make sure they all stayed upright and dry. They’ve all had empty bellies at night, didn’t have two nickels to rub together between the four of them and they’ve stood by each others sides through it. They’ve seen Tommy lose his shit a few times, too—so they know he’s capable of coming back from it. He just hopes this time wasn’t too far—Tommy had yelled at her for simply washing his clothes for him.

When the door to the big white farm house creaks open, Joel steps inside to the warm scent of roast in the oven and potatoes on the stove, Hank in his recliner with the newspaper in his hand and his reading glasses on while the game plays in the background. Hank was a large man, kind of chubby in the joyous kind of way, kind eyes and balding on the top. He laughs a lot, but he takes no shit while he’s at it.

“Kitchen,” Joel directs Tommy, who makes his way to the conjoining room where Louise was probably busy cooking dinner. Joel makes his way over to the couch across from Hank, who drops his paper and gives Joel a long look. “You talk to him?” He nods his head and glances down at his snowy boots. “He’s been real anxious all day. Storm comin’ in is messin’ with him and he knows it's no excuse to snap at anyone. He’s in there apologizin’.”

The older man nods at him and glances over his shoulder where Joel can barely see Tommy handing her the bouquet. “She was really shaken up over it, I hate seeing her so upset. She’s been excited all day and trying to make the house looks nice. I think it was just a misunderstanding, but don’t give him any excuse to yell at her like that.”

Joel twists his hands around and looks up at Hank who wears a solemn expression. “I know, I’m real sorry, Hank.”

The man across from him sigh, then offers a faint smile as he stands from his chair. “It’s alright. You boys are like family, families fight—it happens. Lets get some dinner, forget about all this mess, alright?” Joel is thankful for the reason to drop the conversation and stands with the older man as they head towards the kitchen. Louise and Tommy are talking quietly, smiling at each other until she reaches out and embraces him in a soft looking hug. It's an ease on Joel’s wound tight mind, thinking Tommy had finally thrown a wrench in the only good thing they’ve had in ten years.

Dinner is delicious, savory roast that he can dip soft bread in, let is soak up all the juice that he tries and fails to not get all over his beard. When his bowl is empty and his stomach feels distended, he leans back in his chair and sighs contently. “That was amazing, Miss Lou—I don’t know how you do it.” The smile she gives him isn’t like one of her usuals, it’s slightly saddened and disheartened when she looks across the table at him. For a moment, he worries that Tommy’s words are getting to her again. “Everythin’ okay?” He sits up a little in his chair.

“I'm a little worried. Our daughter was on her way home from college today, she’s finally graduated and she called me this morning to tell me she’d be home before supper, so I made her favorite.” She looks towards the window. “The storm is getting worse, I’m worried her little car wont make it,” Joel’s whole stomach lurches into his throat and he nearly throws up in his hands. “I told you we should have gotten her a truck, Hank, you know she’s not the best driver in snow.”

Fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck!—he’s such a fucking idiot. He knew she was coming home today, Lou has been talking about it for weeks, the impending return of the prodigy child, home with a degree to save the ranch—or whatever it is that she was doing. He’d heard them talk about her so many times, she was all brains and no know-how, Hank always talked about how clumsy and awkward she was, but how brilliant her mind was at the same time. He’d always questioned how uncoordinated she really was, based on the photos of her as a young woman roping in the rodeo. Fuck—he should have recognized her... “What’s her name again?” Tommy asks like he has no fucking clue Joel is losing his ever loving shit right now. They left her stranded on the side of the road in the middle of this damn snow storm. He hears Louise say her name but it doesn’t register because he feels like he’s on fire and drownings at the same time. “But everyone’s always called her Honey. Since she was a little little thing. She was always so ornery and stubborn until one day she got into a bee box and got covered in bee stings. Ever since that day she was so sweet, so we started calling her Honey.” Lou has this soft smile and all Joel can think about is how he’d told her to crawl back to whatever city she came from in her stupid fucking shoes. “She’s got a real mouth on her till something puts her straight.” Hank chuckles and Joel abruptly stands from his seat.

“I’m finished, I can go out and have a look incase she got stuck somewhere.” He slings on his jacket, but Tommy is still eating and doesn’t think much of it—dumb ass. “Are you sure? She’s probably fine, she knows better than to get caught out in these storms, she probably got a hotel in town.” Joel shakes his head at them and throws on his thick Carhartt jacket that Hank gave him his first winter here after watching him shiver in the fields. “I’m sure, it’s gettin’ bad, just gonna make sure she ain’t stuck somewhere.” Joel makes his way out the door quickly, grabbing the keys to the truck that they had given to him—“how are you supposed to manage a ranch if you don’t have a way to get around?”

He starts up the old chevy and it fires to life despite the snow coming down in heaps now. He’s worried about the road back to her car, about the probably eight inches lining the long driveway, but he throws it in four wheel drive and tries his damndest to get through it because despite all the things stacking up against him, his biggest worry is the police finding her frozen to death in the morning and her parents faces when they find out it was Joel who abandoned her there to die. God—he’s such a prick.

The road is slippery and tricky, a winding snow covered path along the hillside leading towards Jackson. It takes him twenty minutes in this blizzard to get there, all he can think about the entire time is the half freezing girl hiding in her car and the warm food in his belly that was meant for her. He stops the truck when he gets to the car, the lights are off and it looks abandoned—his gut lurches again, what if he’s already too late? Two hours have passed since he left her stranded and the sun has set now, real cold is creeping in.

He jumps out of the truck and walks up to the window. He can't see inside because the glass is fogged, so she has to be alive in there. He knocks on the window and the door jerks against the cold. “Hey,” he pulls the door open more, she’s sitting in the driver seat, pale and shaking with a small blanket pulled around her to keep in some warmth. The look she gives him could kill a man if he didn’t feel like he was already going to die the second she tells her parents that he left her there.

“Y-Your conscious f-finally get to y-you, asshole?” She’s absolutely shaking, her fingers look purple. “I’m so sorry—C’mon, it’s warm in the truck.” He reaches for her hand, but she snaps it away from him like he might burn her. “I c-can get o-out on my own.” She can and does, wobbles on her too tall heels and starts to head towards the running truck. Joel grabs the door for her and she sneers at him—yeah, yeah—he deserves that. He closes the door behind her and runs over to the other side. When he jumps in, she’s got her hands pressed against the heater while she relishes in the welcomed heat.

He pulls away from her trapped car, he’ll come back for it when the snow has cleared up a little bit, but for now—it’s too dangerous to try and yank it out just for it to get stuck in the road because it has no traction. It's ten agonizing minutes of silence while Joel taps his fingers against the steering wheel, trying his damndest to keep a close eye on the woman beside him. She’s warming herself up and thawing out that burning rage Joel knows is inside of her. When they get closer to the driveway, she starts to fire off. “You takin’ me to some backwoods shack to tie me up and keep me?” He scoffs and looks out the windshield, trying to keep the truck steady in the snow.

“If I was going to tie up and keep some girl, I’d make sure she was less bitchy.” She growls at him, growls lowly and it actually does the job, makes his skin prick in goosebumps while he drives. “Wouldn’t be so bitchy if you didn’t leave me on the side of the road. You know I could have died, right?” He is painfully, agonizingly aware of that fact. “I came back, didn’t I?” The driveway is in view, a long fenced path up to the old farm house. “How’d you know I was comin’ here?” Her voice is a tad quieter now, less abrasive on his ears.

“Cus’ I’m comin’ here too.” He says quietly, halfway hoping it won't reach her ears, but her mom was right—she is quick, smart too. “You’re Joel, aren’t you?” She laughs menacingly, crossing her arms across her body and her left leg over her right with a scoff. “You know, my parents said it was Tommy I wouldn’t like. Said you were this big southern gentlemen.” She laughs a little harder, looking over at Joel. “They were half worried they’d have to chase me out of your bed, that you were right up my alley. My daddy said you were the type to charm any woman’s pants off. Guess they don’t know you like they thought they do, huh? Under all that chivalrous facade is just another self centered, selfish cowboy.”

Joel shuts off the truck and glances over at her. “Look, I’m real sorry. First impressions aren’t my strong suit, got a thing for people who don’t belong out here. Didn’t know you were their kid. Would’ve pulled your car out if I’d known.” She opens the door of the cab and steps out into the snow. “So you’re only a good person when someone’s lookin’, I’ll keep that in mind, dickhead.”

She slams the door and storms off towards the house while Joel slumps against the wheel with his head in his hands. Fuck…if it’s not Tommy risking their welcome, their jobs, then it was him, making an absolute ass of himself in-front of the bosses daughter. The bosses fiery, too good—too good looking—

“Son of a bitch!”

—

He gets into the house ten minutes after she does, his hands stuffed in his pockets and half expecting her parents to kick him out right then and there. He pretty much told her to fuck off and left her to freeze to death. There’s no doubt in his mind that they would have found her dead in the morning, the temperature was below freezing already.

To his surprise, it's quiet when he gets inside. Hank and Louise are in the dining room with their daughter, laughing and smiling and surprised to see her, to see her with Joel. “And he just found you there?” She looks so…so..chipper standing there beside her dad with her arm on his shoulder while he sits at the table. “Yep, got my car stuck because I was texting, I know—not bright.” She sounds so fucking fake and dramatic in her tone, Joel’s hands flex and unflex. “And I couldn’t get out and find a signal because of my stupid fucking shoes. I probably would have died there if not for…good ol’ Joel.” She cocks her head with this shit eating grin on her face that makes Joel's gut clench up and his heart pound.

This fucking bitch—is she blackmailing him right now? In those stupid fucking pants and that top he’s finally getting a glimpse at—and then…shit…

Look at you…just—his brain is going haywire right now. He hates your fucking guts right about now but his brain makes other notes about your guts and its desire to be in them—and that tight ass shirt with your tits just pourin’ out of it—Jesus CHRIST, Joel, get it together here.

He shakes his head, bites the inside of his cheek and meets your eyes, everyone else is looking at you, but you’re looking at him, fully aware of the way his eyes just ate your body up for dessert until he was stuffed. “Real winner you guys have here, mom and dad…real winner.”

If there’s one thing Joel is certain of, it’s that he is in big, big fucking trouble.

[highvern]

Slay you deserve a million followers for teach me series. Can I request DK or MG kabedon? 🥹 humor or serious or against all odds angst would make my dreams come true you’re amazing

NGL I had to look up what that was and I can only imagine humor but this ended up super fluffy too im sorry for no angst anon 😔

Please accept this as my apology!!!

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom x fem!reader

Genre: humor, suggestive, fluff

Warnings: reader loves a boozy brunch, and they have a dachshund named Mango,

Note: Mayhaps be read as a long long long away epilogue of Teach Me couple

“Damn, you shit with that ass?” You drunkly smile at your boyfriend attempting to shuffle you inside your shared apartment.

When you swat at the curve of plump flesh, Dokyeom rolls his eyes with a groan. He can’t help but smile despite his exasperation with your antics. Bold comments from you has a special way of turning him into a blushing stuttering mess despite years of dating. Something about the brazen way you declare your interest after so much time together sends his heart into orbit, millions of butterflies filling his chest until he is convinced it’ll explode.

But the hallway of your apartment complex at two in the afternoon on a Sunday is not high on Dokyeom’s list of places to be felt up by his girlfriend. Coupled with the knowledge he only has so much time to get you horizontal before you refuse to move yourself, Dokyeom is too stressed to enjoy the usual banter you supply after too many mimosas at brunch with your friends.

The chilled metal door gives way under your combined weight, throwing Dokyeom forward as his feet fail to find their grounding — a firm thud ricocheting through the space under the bounce of his shoulders against the plaster wall.

A smack! echoes in response under your hand landing above his shoulder, pinning a wide eyed Dokyeom underneath your hips as you’re dragged forward by momentum.

“So…do you come here often?”

“To our house?” Dokyeom responds, eyebrows furrowing in amusement.

Crowding into the limit spacefurther, you watch him through your lashes— failing to realize your attempt at coyish allure leaves you resembling a round eyed calf.

Your slow blinks force a guffaw from his lips, shaking your stomach where it touches his own as the crown of Dokyeom’s skull meets the wall behind him.

Pouting as he works through the last of his giggles, you twirl with a huff; nose in the air as you trudge towards the living room.

Mango doesn’t rise from her sprawl across the couch, belly up as she basks in the sun flooding from the glass doors leading to the balcony. Her long golden hair spills onto the couch beneath her oblong body as she watches her parents with little interest.

Tangling your arms around her, you hold her tightly to your chest. “My baby!”

A sharp bark of displeasure answers, followed by your boyfriend gently setting her back on the couch as you sigh forlornly.

“No one in this house loves me.” You wail, stomping your foot while the familiar heat of Dokyeom’s arms curl around your waist once more.

“C’mon babe, let’s go lay down.”

Digging your heels into the ground, you turn to face him. “You love me, right?”

“Always.” Dokyeom smiles, a sweet kiss between your wrinkled brows signing his confession.

“Ew, I have a boyfriend!” You gasp, failing to wiggle out of his grip.

Distracting you in an effort to coral you into the bedroom, Dokyeom plays along. “Oh?”

“Yeah, and he’ll kick your butt!”

“Will he now?” Dokyeom nods, managing to work you out of the living room and down the hall.

“Yeah! And he’s all big and buff.”

“Oh, really? And he’ll fight me for you?”

You sigh once more, “No, he’s too nice.”

“Too bad.”

“I know, he’s really hot when he’s angry.”

Dokyeom fills that tidbit of information away for later, focusing on slipping the tight denim stretched across your hips down so you can sleep comfortably.

“What else do you like about your boyfriend?” He prompts, lifting each leg to free you from the offending garment before gently pushing you to sit on the bed while he works off your shirt.

Arms raised over your head, you eagerly list of the things you love about your boyfriend; a goofy faraway grin brightening your face.

“He’s the best! He’s funny and he’s really sweet and,”

Continuing to prattle on, you don’t notice the way your boyfriend falters under the praise you so eagerly throw his way.

“And Dokyeom is like perfect with kids especially my nieces! I can’t wait until we have kids.”

Kids.

You want kids. With him.

It wasn’t as if it had never been a topic of discussion. You both had been clear from the start that it was a something you’d wanted. But kids and marriage were always a distant goal for you two, nothing to consider for a least a few more years.

But you think about having kids with him. And suddenly he wonders what it’d be like.

Images of babies fill his head; ones with your eyes and his nose, smart like their mom but with their dad’s sense of humor. Bald and perfectly chubby in that cute way only babies are. Then it’s two little girls filling his ears with shrill giggles as he chases them around the living room with your own laughter chiming in from the couch.

Oh boy.

“But we have to get married first. And you can’t tell him I told you but," Comically looking left and right, eyes impossibly round, you drop into a whisper. "I found a ring in the dresser so I think he’ll ask me soon.”

You rock back and forth, feet kicking just above the shag rug as Dokyeom digs up an old shirt from the very dresser he’s had a certain ring hidden in for the past few months.

Finding his voice, albeit shakily, Dokyeom pries for more information.

“If he asks, what would you say?”

A brilliant smile lights your face — blinding in joy, putting all the wonders of the world to shame. You practically glow as you look up at him with so much emotion Dokyeom thinks he might pass out.

“That I’d love to marry you.”

[yarasdead]

yesss matty makes you look at yourself in the mirror!!

imagine him pounding you from behind and grabbing your hair pulling you up and making you look at yourself taking him so well 🥺

matty and mirror fucking. 18+

the vision of the small home that the both of you now live in is starting to take shape. and you thought the new full body mirror was a good accessory to yours and matt's shared bedroom. a cute item you can practically use everyday, the ability to take cute full body photos being one of the bonuses of it other than getting it half priced.

but the moment matt got lugged the huge box inside from the porch and began to swiftly unbox (at your request), he got far better ideas that just taking photos in front of the mirror.

it didn't help that when positioning the mirror in the bedroom you insisted that it will take home in a spot that is perfectly seen from the coziness of the bed.

and when one particular morning when sloppy kisses and the warmth from the rising sun causes you to be sprawled out over the bed, matty kneading at you ass as you bounce back at him. it's in the moment he looks up and something over comes him.

a hand smooths up your back, sending chills down your spine from matty's calloused fingers. his hand lingers at the base of your neck, massaging it for a moment before abruptly moving it to pull at the roots of your hair. sending you arching into him, completely at his mercy. matty begins to kiss at you neck, finding it cute how you're still bouncing into him even in the new position trying to chase your high.

your back is now fully flesh to his chest. a hand still in your hair pulling your back into him and a hand gripping your jaw. "you're gonna watch yourself in the mirror like a slut. so pathetic you're still bouncing back on my cock. you really want to milk me that bad?"

you whimper at his words as he lets go of your body and lets you fall into the bed. but it doesn't last long until his hand is in your hair again, pulling your head up.

"i mean it. watch yourself be so desperate for this cock, baby. you better not close your eyes or look away either."