#the lower decks style opening!

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Captain Pike has had enough time travel shenanigans for one day!

Star Trek Strange New Worlds S02E07 Those Old Scientists.

[ectologia]

♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝒯𝐻𝐼𝒩𝒦𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒜𝐵𝒪𝒰𝒯 . . .

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ asphyxiation ﾉ breeding ﾉ doggy style ﾉ riding ﾉ full nelson ﾉ dick piercings ﾉ profanity

𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 . . .

Dabi’s favourite positions.

He enjoys a classic doggy. He loves how his scolding hot hands, ribbed and marred from years of misuse, mould into the pudgy flesh cushioning your hips and tummy. Squeezing the life out of you with clawed crooked fingers stabbing into your stomach while he stuffs his lengthy shaft all the way up to the stiff peak of your cervix, kissing the tiny opening with the dangerously armed tip of his pierced cock, threatening to splurge the entrance of your womb with wet, sticky seed. It makes him feel like a dog, a ferocious hound, a wild beast. Surviving to live and living to survive. Rutting with warm pants and throaty howls, grunting into the soft hairs that line your nape as he hunches over the extension of your spine, anticipating the moment he finally gets to fill your bitch pussy up with his puppies.

On the other hand, he’s also an avid enjoyer of having you hump him. He’ll pick you up by your shoulders, interlocking each of his lithe fingers around your limbs as he poises you atop his painfully erect dick, sitting your ass down on his hips as they bump up into your soft squishy bits, commanding you to ride him like his own little cowgirl. You complain that you’re tired after the first minute or so, it’s a constant but he just doesn’t seem to care. He’ll swat the meat of your plump butt with a flick of his wrist, telling you to “giddyup” and ride him properly, hissing through grit teeth to “bounce up and down on his fat-ass horse cock.” With splayed palms, his hands rest limply at your haunches, stroking the prickled fuzz of hair growing along your calves and below your thighs as you claw and clutch at the layer of fat chubbing his otherwise lean abs, nails scrunching and sprouting along the fleshy ripples every time he bucks up into you with a sly grin. Sneering at your startled yelps and pitiful whimpers.

But what really gets Dabi going, what really tickles his fancy. Is when you let him fold you like a deck chair. His drug of choice would have to be a nice, stuffy full nelson. One where you let him crumple you up like a tin can in his fist, one where he has your legs sticking out every which way, twitching and shivering and shuddering like a spider beneath his boot. He thinks you look so sweet like that, when he has your arms smushed between your tits, and your thighs locked on his elbows, no where to run and definitely no where to hide. He’ll do you in front of the mirror, all so he can see that cute violet hue overcome your features whence he’s blocked your air ways for a second or five too many. Biceps shaking, evidence of his lassitude after purposely trying to choke you out with his manhood fucked half-way inside that puffy little cunny he loves to hurt so much. He’ll chew his lip as you gasp and splutter, barely attempting to stifle the ashen chuckle that threatens to erupt as flecks of spittle fly onto his hairy thighs. Cooing at you, he’ll rub lines into your buzzing clit, nuzzling and huffing into your ear while he taps and faps away at the hard lovebud, refusing to move when you panic, flailing and screeching as the stimulation becomes too overbearing. Only then will he relent, recollecting your flapping arms and legs to spear you from the bottom, lowering you up and down his smouldering hot length, spiked with hooks and other metal weaponry a-geared to tear your delicate pussy open from the inside out.

[bruisedboys]

bradley bradshaw x fem!reader — you’re worried about what bradley will think of your new haircut.

mutual pining, pre-relationship, fluff (very self indulgent since I got my hair cut this week xoxo)

You were feeling good about your new haircut yesterday, when it was freshly cut and styled and so super soft. Today is different. You know you look different and you can help but think different is bad.

You rake a hand through your short hair. “Does my hair look bad?”

Natasha and Bob both give you twin looks of incredulity. It’s not the first time you’ve asked it tonight. They’ve brought you along to the Hard Deck for a night of drinks with their friends and you can’t stop fussing over your hair. You won’t admit to them it’s because you’re harbouring a massive crush on one of their squad members and you’re worried he’ll think you look awful.

“It looks fine,” Natasha tells you, again, not for the first time. “You look pretty. Right, Bob?”

Bob hums, tapping his fingers on the wooden tabletop. “You look great, Y/N.” He gives you a look from behind his glasses. Confusion, a bit of suspicion. “Why are you worrying so much, anyway?”

Your heart stutters. “I’m not—“

“Phoenix, Bob!” Jake Seresin appears seemingly out of nowhere, sidling up to your table with all the charm of a prince. His eyes land on you and your new hair and he grins. “And Y/N. Looking good, sugar.”

He winks at you. He’s a huge flirt and you’d definitely be into him if it weren’t for another certain aviator.

You smile at him. “Thanks, Jake.”

The others, Payback and Fanboy, file in behind him. They both notice and compliment your hair, which is a good sign. Still, you know who’s coming next and you can’t help but curl in on yourself, taking a sip of your drink so you don’t have to see him as he approaches.

“Hey, guys!” Bradley Bradshaw appears, stupid Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses, moustache, golden skin and all. He’s tucking his glasses into his shirt so he doesn’t see you at first. “Hey— woah, Y/N.”

He stops short when he sees you. You lower your drink slowly, heart in your throat. Your knee bounces underneath the table.

“Hi, Bradley,” you say.

Bradley blinks. Blinks again. “Hi. Hey. I— you cut your hair.”

He says it like he’s never heard of a haircut before. You smile unsurely.

“I did,” you say, pushing a lock behind your ear as if that will help your case. “Is it bad?”

“Bad? No, it’s— it really suits you,” he says. If you’re not mistaken, he’s stuttering. Not only that, but unless you’re imagining it, he’s blushing. He stares at you, completely unaware of anything or anyone else, golden cheeks tinged pink. “You look really pretty.”

Your turn to blush. Heat flares behind your cheeks, burning into your smile. Pretty, he called you. “Thanks, Brad.”

Bradley seems to come back into himself, a lopsided grin creeping onto his face. He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and smiles at you. “Hey, you’re welcome. Just tell me next time so I don’t have a heart attack, okay?”

What’s that supposed to mean? You open your mouth to say something, you don’t know what, but Jake’s southern drawl interrupts you.

“Bradshaw!” Both you and Bradley turn to see Jake at the pool table with the rest of the boys. “Stop flirting with Y/N and get over here so I can beat you. Again.”

Bradley rolls his eyes. “He’s lying, I won last week. I’ll be back, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

You weren’t planning to. He flashes you a dazzling smile and then you watch him go, your heart thrumming with the sort of electricity you can’t ignore. You think you might burst. He’d called you pretty, said you’d given him a heart attack. You feel like your own heart’s about to give out, too.

Across the table, Bradley now well out of earshot, Natasha wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“Oh,” she says slyly. “Now I get why you were so worried about your hair.”

You groan and bury your burning face in your drink again. “Please shut up, Nat.”

You have a feeling she won’t.

[sundayswife]

A gamble.

Aventurine x afab! Reader (No specific pronouns.)

Tags: Mdni!! Smut, Slight praise, unprotected sex(please use a darn condom), doggy style, fingering, squirting, soft sex?, character might be OOC, porn w/ plot, I guess?

A/n: Heyy, finally finished this fanfic. I hope I did okay at writing Aventurine's character, anyways enjoy!

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One scarlet night, you and Aventurine had chose to have a small game of cards. Nothing too special, if one loses, they would have to do anything the winner says. Very simple.

Even though, gambling and playing a cards with Aventurine was an risk. He was a good gambler after all, major luck on his side while he does so. Which makes your stomach twist and turn nervously.

One would think other wise if you'd say that your not nervous. Cmon, what's the chances of winning against someone as good as him? Though, there's always a way, but this is all about chance.

You huff as you looked at your cards, having a terrible hand. Again, you wondered if Aventurine was cheating. But he couldn't have been, you watched him shuffle the deck of cards a few good times already.

You tossed your cards down, only a sense of hope that he would somehow was a lower hand. But no, he hand a much higher hand and smirked. Before pushing the pile of chips towards himself, leaning his cheek and his hand as his elbow rests on the table. A cheeky smile plastered on his lips.

"Losing again are we now? I might say, your pretty bad at this." He teased, his violet irises meeting yours as his eyes narrow slightly. As if he was challenging you to continue, and finally lose the bet against him either way.

A frown spreads across yours lips as your slowly realized that you had no more chip to bet off. A sigh comes out quietly from you, before you close your eyes in defeat. "I have no more to bet on more of, the winner of this bet goes to you... Aventurine."

You grumbled slightly in annoyance, knowing anyways that you were going to lose one way or the other. You crossed your arms over your chest, opening your eyes once more as you meet gaze with his eyes.

That slyful smirk on his face was frustrating you, always so cocky with his smiles, you hated by how much it made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

"So... you chose defeat you say? Hm, I was hoping to have a.. longer game with you. But oh well, I'm fine with this either way." Aventurine shrugged, before flashing you with a wider grin. If that was even possible...

"Hm, anything I want... And you would do as I say?" He asked, his eyes wondering over your body. Obviously checking you out, having some ideas in mind. But not voicing them out justtt— yet.

You nodded your head in such defeat, you didn't wanted to bail down so fast. But at the same time, you didn't want to go into a dept that you very much didn't need at this very moment.

All aventurine did was kept that smirk on his face before opening his mouth. "Where's that pretty little voice now? Cmon... let me here you say yes, if not then we'll simply just continue the game without the little bet." Aventurine he said with a smug smile, though, his tone was as soft as a feather.

"Yes, that was the bet... the loser would have to do anything the winner says. And, I'm okay with that." You mumbled out, though still remaining eye contact with him either way.

Aventurine nods, hearing your verbal consent. That was all he needed before you asked you, for such favors... but he was silently happy that you trusted him.

"All right then, can you please come over here? Hm?" He questioned, with a tone filled with lust to the brim. But also with a touch of passion. He pats his thigh, singling for your to come and sit on his lap.

You felt heat raise to your cheeks, but you brushed it off and walked over towards him. Nervously. You gulp down the saliva that was building up in your mouth, before taking a seat in Aventurine's lap.

Shivers going up your spine as he wraps an arm around your waist. Holding you in place on his lap comfortably. "No need to be nervous sweetheart, I won't bite... I promise." He whispered into your ear, before placing his face into your neck. Taking a nice wiff of your scent, making himself melt just from the smell and weight from you.

"Hm, you smell delightful gem..." Aventurine mumbled out before wrapping his other arm around your waist. Enjoying the warmth of the embrace.

You then melt into his gentle touch, it calmed down your nerves as you hugged back. Enjoying his embrace as well, that was until you felt something poking your butt.

You knew what it was, it was obviously Aventurine's hardening cock. You let out a small chuckle before grinding your hips. Softly creating friction between your ass and his clothed dick

He groans out as his hands wandered down, gripping your hips firmly. As he tries to suppress desperate moans, already egar to feel you.

"Not feeling so shy are we now? Hmph... fuck, need you so badly." Aventurine mumbled out desperately, his hands helping your hips to grind back and forth. Both of you liking the small friction being created, but then, you liked how he wasn't just flat out controlling on what you want to do. Letting you have the freedom to pleasure yourself too.

You grip onto his shoulders for support as you hump against his hard on. All you could let out was soft whines and pants, from the nice feeling of grinding your clothed cunt against his clothed cock.

Aventurine let's out soft groans, and he's a type a guy to not hold back his sounds of pleasure. His lips press soft kisses against your neck, before sucking on the skin. Creating a hickie.

His left hand wanders up and cups your tit gently, foundling with it as his thumb brushes against your hardened nipple. Making you let out a sigh of pleasure, yes, it was like a slow burn. But it felt amazing by his hands.

"Hmm, can I take this shirt off of you? Please?" He asked, his right hand on the hem of your shirt as he waits for reply.

"Yes, Aventurine.." You replied with a small whine, which causes Aventurine to have a shiver go up his spine. They way you spoke his name in that honey tone, Aeons he needed you so badly.

Aventurine leans back a bit, before he takes the bottom of your shirt and pulls it up. Not too long before it's on the floor and he's kissing all over your neck. Mumbling how your doing so good for him, 'such a good gem.' He would say as he kisses down your collarbone.

His hands would wander around your body softly, but firm. He would then start nibbling at your neck, becoming a lil rough, but not too rough to make you uncomfortable.

Your hips would twitch as he slide his hands to your pants, waiting for you to say no or to stop him just in case. Only for you to whine for him to continue, which causes him to smirk.

Pulling your pants along with your underwear, you then kick the extra clothes off of your ankle. Letting out a small gasp as Aventurine's right hand came down further down. Cupping your cunny softly before his middle and ring finger found your bundle of nerves.

Aventurine started to rub small and slow circles on your clit, teasing you as your hips buckled up from the sweet but so, so far away pleasure. Just wanting more, he was treating you so nicely. And now he's teasing? And still clothed? Unfair.

He let out a chuckle before speaking out. "My, my... you are so wet my dear. All of this because of me?" He teased, before picking the pace, rubbing circles on your clit faster. Which causes you to wail out a moan.

You've always hated for when he teased, but you also loved it. Your thighs become shaky as you felt the knot in your stomach blooming more.

"How about you be a good little gem and cum for me, hm? You can do that right?" He would tease, while rubbing faster circles on your poor clit.

You felt like your were about to burst. That knot in your stomach becoming looser and looser, before it hit you.

"Ah—! Aventurine— I'm gonna...!"

You wailed out as you came on his fingers, gushing all over his trousers and your thighs. It felt so good that you were seeing stars.

"Holy fuck..." Aventurine whispered out as he continued to rub at your clit, but gently so you could ride out your oragsm.

"Looks like I got myself a squirter... heh," he teased as his fingers slowly came to a stop. A wide smirk across his lips as he looked down at your panting form.

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"Fuck... you feel so good." Aventurine groaned out, while he pushed himself slowly into your cunt.

You were no longer in his lap, and now was bent over the table. The cards you two were playing with were now all scrabled everywhere.

Neither of you cared though, only wanting the sweet pleasure of sex. Feeling him slip into your pussy perfectly, you squirting earlier helped out with him sinking his cock into you.

Both of you sigh out in pleasure as Aventurine finally bottoms out inside of you. His head resting against your shoulder as he waits for you to fully adjust to him.

He wasn't grithy, but he was long. Probably about 6 inches or 6 in a half inches long. At least.

"You can move now..."

You mumbled out softly, your hips twitching with need.

Aventurine nods before placing his hands firmly on your hips and lifting his upper body up from your back.

Pulling out a little before slamming his hips back, causing both of you to moan out in the pleasure forming between you two.

"Fuuck, you are so tight my gem stone..." He murmurs out along with a grunt, his cock sliding in and out of your gummy walls.

All you could do was moan and drool by how much pleasure he was giving you. Aventurine's cock was literally felt like it was perfect for you.

You wail out as you felt his tip brush gracefully against your g-spot, hitting it sooo sweetly it made your toes curl.

"R–right there! Fuck! Mmm,"

You moaned out as your back arches from the pure bliss you were feeling, tears swelling in your eyes from the way he hit your cervix so perfectly.

The room was filled with plaps as skin hit one against another, as well as the sounds of your cunt gushing around his cock. And finally both yours and his moans would fill up the room as well.

"So good f'me, ah– ugh fuck! You feel so good." Aventurine praised as his hips picked up the pace, his hips slamming against yours.

His cock now rubbing against your sweet spot everytimes he re-enters into your body. At this point, you were fucked dumb. It's felt all too good that you couldn't think straight anymore.

His grunts were growing louder as his pace became more punishing, hips and pelvis slamming right up against your ass.

Everything was a wild blur, you couldn't think straight as Aventurine's cock rubbed against your soft walls. Over, and over again.

You were taking him so well, that his mind was driving up the wall. Thrusts becoming sloppy as he felt you clench around his grith.

"Cum for me,"

Aventurine grunted, wanting you to cum before he did. Wanting to satisfy you first before he came.

Your eyes rolled back, letting out a strangled moan as you creamed around him. Cumming around him as he hisses at the squeeze.

Sloppy thrusts continue, desperately going faster as you whine out at the overstimulation.

"Ugh, gonna cum— fuck!"

He groaned out before you felt hot, gooey substance fill your insides up. Nice and full of it.

His hips still against yours as he pants out, making sure you take it all. All of his seed before he pulls out from your warn pussy.

"Did so good f'me, good gem..."

He whispered into your ear before your eyes closed, going into a blissful sleep after the turn of events...

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A/n: Hey!! I just wanted to say that this might be out of character for Aventurine but I tried. Hope you guys enjoyed!! Stay safe and reblogs are appreciated.

[star-trek-fandom-confessions]

#348

"I know the Lower Decks gets flack for its art style sometimes, but I think it's fitting and genuinely beautiful when it needs to be (especially past season 1). There are so many talented artists working on the show, and you can feel the love they have for the world and the characters. Also, when the LD team remade the opening for the SNW crossover, it blew my mind. That shit was so gorgeous!"

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Love the potential in this house so much. It's a mid-century modern built in 1960 in Wilmington, Delaware. They have really brought the outdoors in. 3bds, 2ba, $490K.

Walk in the front door and right in front of you is the center atrium of the home.

Love this so much. Can you imagine how stunning this could be?

The layout of the home goes around the atrium and there's a nice railing with stairs to the lower level on one side. The floors need refinishing, they look dull and stained in some spots.

Large open concept living room with a stone corner fireplace.

This is so unique for a home that's not a mansion.

It's very open. Here's the dining room next to the kitchen.

Here's the entrance to the atrium thru sliding glass doors. Can you imagine how nice it would look if you put in French door with side panels?

See? Doors like this, but white.

And the outdoors don't end at the atrium b/c here's huge sunroom. It has heat, so it's a year round room.

This house was lived in hard. It's really worn. These are the original cabinets and I kind of like the green Plexiglass in the upper cabinets. I thing that I would just paint or refinish these cabinets and change out the hardware.

Hmmm. They did some repair in here and didn't paint over it, but thi is the primary bedroom and you can see the en-suite on the left.

Both baths are very dated, but I would have to embrace the MCM style w/the blue tiles and fixtures. The sinks need to be repainted.

It's unusual to have a walk-in closet in a vintage home.

The 2nd bedroom is white so it just needs paint.

The third bedroom is a little smaller, but has 2 murals.

I don't know what's happening here, but it looks like they were using the garage for another purpose.

The basement isn't finished, but there's a big brick fireplace down here. I would definitely have to finish it a some point. Look at how huge it is.

There's a big pantry down here. This could be great for anything kind of storage.

And look at all these shelves.

There's a big deck on the back of the house.

This home has been so neglected, I hope someone who loves it comes along, b/c it could really be special. The .33 acre lot needs landscaping, too.

This can be a beautiful yard and garden.

Oh, now we can see that they were using the garage for something else. The front of the house is well-cared for and there isn't even an HOA.

It's located in a beautiful wooded area. I would love to have this house.

[sometimesanalice]

Give Me Your Hand {Here Is My Heart}

Summary: You and Bradley have been dating for a couple months now. You want him and he wants you. And it’s getting harder and harder to keep your hands off of him. So what is holding you back?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 9K

Warnings: Fluff, Pining, and Smuttt

(This will be a 2-Part series for characters in the “Like I Can” Universe. It can be read without reading the original series first.)  PART 2

You’ve seen Bradley’s thick, wavy hair in various stages throughout your life. He has a little cowlick tuft in the back that would always pop up if it was cut too short. You’d seen it in high school when he used a little too much product like most boys did at that age. You’d seen it smashed and sweaty from being trapped under a baseball cap for too long.

However, for all the ways you’ve seen it over the years, his hair mussed by your own hands is easily one of your very favorite looks on him.

There is an open bottle of some random red blend you had picked up from the grocery store on the table, you had been more drawn to the label than what was inside of it. Your glasses were mostly untouched, the only clue about whose belonged to who was the imprint of your lower lip left behind on the rim from your lipstick that’s long worn off from your mouth.

And you are straddling Bradley’s denim clad lap enthusiastically making out on his probably-from-Ikea-but-still-very comfortable dark gray couch. The short skirt of your flirty little ruffled red dress sliding higher and higher up your thighs with every movement.

Your hands are undoing what minimal styling he had done to it before you had gotten to his place that evening, while his large ones are everywhere. Traveling the length of your back, squeezing your hips, running over the outsides of your calves. 

It has been almost a couple of months since you had been set up by the Daggers on those truly terrible dates. At the time it seemed like a fun idea to go on all those blind dates, until it wasn’t. 

That is, until Bradley. Being with him had made it all worthwhile. 

There have been plenty of dates since then. Nights out. Nights in. Nights spent laughing at the Hard Deck with his friends. But they all end the same. With Bradley kissing you goodnight. 

In the Bronco.

At your door. 

At his. 

You haven’t stayed the night, not once. Not even after the time where you both fell asleep tangled on his couch. You had woken up it find it was nearly 3 A.M, and even then you still made it a point not to cross the threshold into his bedroom. Even though you wanted to.

The way his mouth is moving against yours is nothing short of sinful. He is so good at making you breathless. So good at making you blush. Having him like this is more than you ever thought you’d get, its deliciously thrilling being the one to pull the low moans and satisfied sighs from him. 

It is almost too easy with Bradley. You’d never let yourself think about forever at this point in a relationship with anyone else. He made it so difficult for you to keep your head on straight when he looked at you with such dizzying adoration. 

It was getting harder and harder not let yourself think about Bradley being the one for all of your last-firsts. Even as you tried to take things with him day by day, moment by moment.

How that evening out on the outdoor terrace could have been your last-first date. That pretty green dress you’d worn, now tucked away in your closet protected in its garment bag, felt special in a way you weren’t sure you were ready to look at too closely.

How that kiss against his Bronco in the parking lot near the beach afterwards could have been your last-first kiss.

How whenever you mustered up the courage to finally give yourself to him entirely that it could be your last-first time.

But one of you had to be the practical one. One of you has to keep their feet on the ground because the other literally as his head in the clouds on a daily basis. You felt constantly at war with bullet pointed logic of your mind and the whatifwhatifwhatifs of your heart.

When Bradley dropped you off back at your car after your post-oceanside-dinner-milkshake-run, he asked you out again for the next weekend. Claimed he wanted you to have a second first date with him, even though you both already were planning on meeting your friends at the Hard Deck the very next night. 

His smile had been so sweet and his eyes so sincere there was no way you were going to turn him down. Even if you didn’t think you needed a second first date with him when the first had been one for the books. 

Bradley’s burning lips work their way down your neck. His hand at the base of your neck keeping you exactly where he wanted you. The delicious drag of his mustache along the sensitive skin of your throat makes your toes curl. His hot mouth sucking softly at your pulse point before laving it with his tongue. Can he feel how fast your heart is beating?

For your second-first date, the only feeling that had been coursing through you that day had been pure excitement knowing it would be Bradley knocking on your door. 

And when he picked you up, he arrived with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand and a bottle of your favorite champagne in the other.

There was an undeniable giddiness that evening, but also a tentative shyness between the two of you as you sat across from each other at one of the many seafood restaurants that dotted the boardwalk. The table had felt almost too big, since the two of you were both a little too in your heads. 

“Why did it feel easier last time-”

“I feel like I’m on an interview-”

After a couple awkward stops and starts, you both just looked at each other and had to laugh about it. It was better when you moved your place settings and slid into the spot next to him. When his leg nervously bounced under the table, you were close enough to rest a hand on his thigh. 

“Have I told you how pretty you look?”

“Only a few times now,” you replied as you nudged his foot with yours, “But I like hearing it.”

And then slowly but surely the nerves and awkwardness melted away as you two settled into the familiarity of each other. You did call him “Rooster” a couple times on accident, and he ended up almost telling you the same story twice before he realized it halfway through the second time. But it was a comfortable kind of bumbling as you explored the newness of this part of your relationship together.  

Afterwards, he had suggested taking a walk along the beach, you’d readily agreed at the thought of the sand beneath your toes and your fingers tangled between Bradley’s.

You didn’t walk very far before a large canopy made entirely out of thousands of string lights caught your eye. The area was roped off on the beach halfway between the boardwalk and the ocean waves. People were already milling about, some brave souls already dancing away as the final rays from the sunset illuminated them in a golden red light. 

“C’mon, kid,” he’d said already tugging you along with him by the hand, “Let’s check it out.”

“Bradley, I don’t know. This looks like some kind of private event.”

It didn’t click until he was pulling out his phone with the tickets already pulled up and ready to be scanned that he had planned it all along. 

“I’ve always wanted to go to one of these,” you told him with a grin on your face as you waited in the line to exchange your shoes for a pair of light up headphones.

“Have you now?” He was looking very pleased with himself as he slid an arm around you, tucking his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.

“I thought you said you were done with surprises,” you asked teasingly, smoothing down the front of his Hawaiian shirt. Enjoying the way his stomach tensed beneath your hand. 

“Now, where the fun in that? I think I like surprising you,” he murmured into your ear.

When you made your way to the front, he slipped the headphones over your ears before pulling you to the side, bending down to roll up your jeans a bit and then doing the same to his. 

The sand was still warm for the sun under your feet, and the twinkle lights were picking up the golden strands in Bradley’s wavy hair. He was so handsome and he was all yours tonight.

The two of you had the best time as you bounced around between stations, the colors on your headphones changing from blue to red to green as you told the other one to change over whenever a familiar song came on as the inky night settled around you.

You had danced with Bradley plenty of times of the years, like at school dances and at your mom’s second wedding. However, it was always the goofy and fun kind of dancing between friends. Where he would spin you until you were doubled over in laughter or where you’d compete to see who could pull out the most ridiculous moves.  

His fancy footwork and carefree exuberance still amused you to no end, but it was also the good kind of different the way he wrapped his arms around you from behind. You’d felt a good kind of free in the way you let your hips move against him without overthinking it. It was the good kind of exciting the way he feathered kisses down the side of your neck when the music playing through the headphones slowed down.

The two of you moving in sync and touching each other in ways you haven’t indulged in before, a little sweaty and out of breath. You had never felt so truly lighthearted and uninhibited as you did as you danced the night away with Bradley, as he shimmied with you, as he twirled you about, as he held you close. 

By the end of the evening, your cheeks were hurting from the wide smile that hadn’t left your face once the whole night. 

And there was no hesitation in the way you pulled his face to yours as people danced around lost in their own moments on the beach under the twinkle lights and moonlight that night. As you got lost in him.

The rough denim of his jeans between the soft skin of your thighs has you desperate to move against him for more. His fingers are playing with the frilly chiffon fabric of the red dress you bought forever ago and completely forgot about in your closet. You wanted to be as bold as the color you were wearing, to take the lead and slide his hands up your dress to where you both really wanted them to be. Instead you trail your lips long the strong line of his jaw, reveling in the way he sighs your name.

The next date you had planned. 

And the only thing you had told him about it was what time he should expect to be picked up. 

At the time he’d grumbled something about his mom raising him as a gentleman and that meant always picking the girl up. To which, you had retorted that Carole told you not to take nonsense from any man, and that included her son. Phoenix had clicked her glass with yours at that.

Bradley was notoriously bad a keeping a secret, excluding when he had planned that first date, but he was even worse when he was the one being kept in the dark. Needless, to say you thoroughly enjoyed teasing him that whole week before your next date.

And if he ran his hands more over your body as he tried to get you to give him even the smallest of hints, you couldn’t say you minded. 

You’d stopped by his favorite deli on you way home from work and ordered a couple of those giant sandwiches that were piled high with all the cold cuts and too many toppings, along with a few containers of different sides to round out the meal. Your fridge had been stocked his favorite beer from your last grocery run, so you’d grabbed a few cans of those and some sparkling waters and put those in your cooler basket with the other sweet treats you had already bought before you’d quickly changed and left to go pick him up.

You’d barely had the car parked in his driveway of his condo before he was opening the door and throwing his large body in your car.

“It’s not too late to let me drive, kid,” he’d said in greeting, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You really liked this part, the casual physicality of his affection. You liked it a lot.

“Oh please, you just want me to tell you what we’re doing,” you countered, as you backed up and pulled on to the main road. “Plus, I don’t see what your problem is. I drive you around all the time when the Bronco is getting a tune up.”

“Yeah, but only when it’s in the shop. I am physically pained to be in a Honda Civic,” he complained, as he shifted from side to side and moved the seat back trying to get more comfortable. Ever the drama queen.

“Hey, it’s a hybrid! I’m saving the planet,” you lobbed back at him, “How much fuel does your F/A-18 go through?” 

“It’s boring.” There was no missing the derision dripping from the word.

Such a little car snob.

“I think you mean it’s practical,” you replied primly. “I’m not going to apologize for having a car from this century, Bradley.”

“Is it even safe to be this close to the ground?” he groused as he looked at you from over the top of his sunglasses. 

“Well, my lease on this is up soon and I have been thinking about getting an all-American whip,” you paused for a moment as he perked up at the idea of that, “Do you think I would look cute in a Jeep?”

The taunt landed just the way you hoped it would when he groaned and clutched his heart.

“My girl is not driving a Jeep. That’d be like sleeping with the enemy!” he dramatically bemoaned, “The Bronco would stall out of spite knowing you’re driving the competition.”

You hoped he didn’t catch the way you’d clamed up. How your hands had tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles standing out in contrast against the paper-thin skin there.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t slept with someone on the first date before. And while you knew it was a matter of when and not if, you were still having a hard time wrapping your brain around the fact that you would be having sex with Bradley Bradshaw.

But there was fucking and then there was whatever this was. 

It already felt different with him than anyone else you’ve dated before. It felt like it would mean more with him and you couldn’t pretend you weren’t anxious about it.

This was Bradley.

Bradley.

Who had always made it to your tennis matches wearing the t-shirt he had made that boldly sported your last name across his chest after you had complained that the boys’ teams always better funding and therefore got better apparel. He was always the loudest person in the stands, except for your moms when they overdid it on the Sauvignon Blanc.

Bradley.

Who had always sent you your favorite kind of flowers to be delivered on your birthday and never failed to FaceTime with you regardless of where he was in the world or what time it was where he was stationed.

Bradley who was looking so handsome next to you in your practical Honda Civic wearing a snug light blue button up shirt and smelling really good. Woodsy with the tiniest hint of citrus.

With his tousled sun-lightened curls and warm brown eyes. His strong, sturdy nose. That mustache that had no right to look so perfect on his face. You’d liked every version of him you’d know throughout your life, but this one next to you? You lo--

“Light’s green, sweet girl.” He was wearing that little half smirk of his. The one that was entirely too knowing, and that looked entirely too good on him.

You had blinked at him a few times before you had realized you’d been completely caught checking him out. And it wasn’t until the car behind you honked that you were startled out of your Bradley filled mental wanderings.

Thankfully you were saved from further jokes at you or your car’s expense as you pulled into the parking lot of the library, happy for the distraction from your earlier thoughts.

“Do you have some books you need to return?” he asked a bit perplexed, his eyebrow knitting together. 

“Nope,” you answered. Sending him a smug wink as you reached over to click the button to unbuckle his seatbelt. 

He wasn’t the only one who could plan a surprise in this relationship. 

And in the midst of your self-satisfied musings, you had somehow missed the way he had rounded the car until his big hands were on your waist. Then he was turning you around and crowding you against the side of your very practical car.

“This ok?” he rasped questioningly against your ear, stroking your side.

You nodded rapidly. All words had escaped you the second he had pressed his broad, hard body against yours.

It was a miracle you didn’t drop the basket in your hands when his mouth collided with yours, his lips leisurely gliding over yours. You were still getting use to the sensation of his rough mustache on your delicate skin, but you liked the feel of it. 

You liked everything about him.

He pulled away after a few moments, nudging your cheek with his nose, “Hey, you good?”

There was a moment when you thought that maybe he had noticed the way you’d froze in the car when he had made that joke. He knew you so well, but even that felt like a stretch.

“Just peachy,” you replied, as you leaned in for another quick peck. But just as you tried to pull away, he tugged you back in.

“’m not done kissing you yet.”

“Bradley, come on,” you laugh breathlessly, the grin on your face derailing any further plans he had for your mouth. 

“Or, hear me out,” he mused, as he trailed a finger down your arm, until he reached your hand to take the basket from you, “We can make out against your car. Seeing as we’re already very good at that.”

“Nuh-uh.” You shake your head at him. “There will be no more making out.”

“At all?” he coaxed. His thumb sneaking under your top, stroking the skin above your hip.

“For the next couple of hours,” you amended. “Are you going to be trouble?”

“Only the good kind, I promise.” He was wearing that cheeky smile that always left you feeling a little flustered. Threading your fingers together with his free hand, he gestured for you to lead the way. 

You pulled him along with you as you followed the other groups of people who were making their way the same direction around to the back of the library where the large section of grassy lawn was located. 

“Last chance, you sure you don’t want to go make out in the stacks?” he teased as you passed by the entrance, giving you a heated once over, “You always were such a good girl in school, Miss Valedictorian.”

It made your cheeks warm at both the idea of him pressing you against the shelves and from him calling you a good girl. And you were almost tempted to let him have his way. To let him pull you out of the line you were waiting in in favor of finding out what his mouth tasted like in some quiet, dusty corner of the library. 

“Behave, this is an all ages event,” you reminded him, and yourself. He held up his three fingers in Scout’s promise. But you knew better, recognized what that smirk he was wearing meant, so you met him half way, “If you’re good, maybe we can do that for our third date.”

You had felt your pulse radiate through your whole body when he leaned in close and murmured, “I can be good for you.”

A pointed cough jolted you both out of the moment, you had been so wrapped up in him that you had completely missed that the line had moved. Muttering a sheepish Sorry, you tugged a shameless Bradley along with you to catch up with everyone else. 

When you made it to the front of the line, he tried to fish out his wallet before you could reach yours to pay the suggested entry donation fee. The volunteer chuckled as you tossed the blanket you were carrying at your troublesome date’s broad chest. And then you handed over the cash you had withdrawn from the ATM earlier in the day, plus a little more.

You were a patron of the literary arts, after all. A humanitarian with a point to prove. This was your date you had planned for Bradley, you would be the one sweeping him off his feet tonight.

The big screen they had set up gave it away, but you refused to tell him what movie was playing that evening even as he made guess after guess as you wove your way around people to find an unoccupied spot in the grass.

You kept him busy by having him smooth out the blanket until there were absolutely no wrinkles, and then distracted him with all of his favorite goodies as you unpacked them out of your cooler bag. Thankfully, it wasn’t too much longer before the event’s coordinator was welcoming everyone since you had run out of PG-rated ways to keep Bradley diverted without spoiling the evening’s featured film.

When the opening credits had started rolling for Singin’ in the Rain Bradley had turned to you, his wide grin lighting up his whole face. 

“I love this movie,” he said excitedly.

You smiled back at him indulgently, as if you didn’t already know that. However, you still had felt very pleased with yourself that he was so thrilled as you passed him one of the massive, overly filled sandwiches along with a beer. 

You had forgotten to pack some extra plates to put the sides on, so you and Bradley passed the containers of creamy potato salad, tangy coleslaw, and cold tomato salad back and forth. Occasionally feeding the other bites in between watching Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor’s antics on screen. 

A little while later, the two of you had cozied up on the blanket, the leftover food pushed off to one side. Bradley had pulled you into the space between his legs, encouraging you to rest your back against his sturdy chest. You had never felt as perfectly content as you did sitting there wrapped up in his arms sharing a bag of gummy bears and the other boxes of movie candy you had packed as the warm California breeze washed over you.

You had been surrounded by families and other couples, but the way he rested his chin against your shoulder and hummed along with Gene Kelly singing “You Were Meant For Me” was for your ears only.

There isn’t anything in this world that feels as good as Bradley’s wet lips sliding over yours. Nothing as exciting as wondering where his hands will roam to next on your body. Nothing as devastating as when he teases down the strap of your dress off of your shoulder with his nose as his mouth purposefully works along your collarbone.

Ever the gentleman, he’s never pressured you, or even brought it up. You know he is waiting for you to make the move, to let you be the one who sets the pace. To let him know when you’re ready to take that next step with him.

And you want to. You really want to. Even now, you can feel how enticingly hard he is beneath you as you moan into his mouth. 

You know that you’re the one holding you back. 

The one holding the both of you back. 

And you know exactly why.

The closest you two even got to toeing that line into something more was the night you got back home after spending a few days on the East Coast for a work trip. 

Bradley had wanted to pick you up from the airport, but you were getting in late and didn’t want him to lose out on the sleep that he needed to stay safe doing his job. He only let it go once you had promised him you would text him when you landed and got home in one piece.

You had been getting ready for bed after showering off the plane from your body, slipping on an old shirt you had recently rediscovered buried in the back of your dresser when your phone had lit up. And you really shouldn’t have been surprised to see Bradley’s name on your screen well past 2 A.M, but your heart still fluttered seeing his name pop up.

“Yes, Bradley?” you answered with a playful lilt in your tone. 

“Hi, kid,” you could hear the soft smile in his voice, “Did you make it home ok?”

“I did, but what are you still doing awake? You’ve got that new training program that starts tomorrow, and roosters aren’t known for being nocturnal creatures.”

“She’s got jokes, ladies and gentlemen,” he deadpanned flatly before tentatively continuing, “You said you were going to text me when you landed. But my phone has been suspiciously silent.”

You didn’t know if that swooping sensation in your stomach had been from feeling like you’d let him down or from the fact that he was calling you this late because he was worried about you. That he had stayed up wanting to hear from you because you mattered to him. You that you were in his 2 A.M thoughts. 

“I figured you’d be asleep, and I didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted self-consciously as you puttered around you room, putting away a few of the things from your suitcase.

And it had been the truth. You had typed out a message when you were waiting in the ride share pick up area with your carry on, but ended up deleting it not wanting to bother him or disturb his sleep. 

“Nah, you’d never bother me. I was waiting to hear from you. Wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyways, not with you being flown around by some random pseudo-captain airline pilot wearing a pair of wings with a brand logo on it.”

The men you had dated in the past had always said the same thing without really meaning it, sending halfhearted thumbs up when you’d let them known you got home after a date or landed safely after a work trip. But Bradley wasn’t like those men, he truly meant the things he said because he cared.

“Not the branded wings,” you teased, before softly saying, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good, sweet girl. I’m just happy you’re home. You free dinner tomorrow? I want to hear all about your trip.”

“For you? Yeah, I think I can clear my schedule.”

“Good,” he said contentedly before pausing for a moment, and you heard rustling on the other end of the line, “So, what are you wearing?”

You burst out laughing, as you finally crawled into your soft bed, grinning wildly, “Bradley Bradshaw, you did not just ask me that!”

“What?” he asked innocently, his chuckle giving him away. “How about this, you tell me and I promise to never bring up the fact that you have contributed to any prematurely gray hairs that might have sprung up in the last few hours.”

“A silver fox Bradley Bradshaw?” Now that was something you were very much looking forward to seeing one day, “Be still my heart.”

“Chances are you won’t have to wait long,” he joked.

“Well, it’s funny you should ask,” you mused as you look down at the threadbare shirt you had on, “Because I am currently wearing a very old Cardinals Baseball shirt.”

He had given it to you after they had won the State Championships his junior year as a thank you for all the time you had spent helping him practice after school and on the weekends leading up to the playoff games.

“You’re messing with me.”

“I would never joke about Washington High school pride.” He laughed at that, because really, when were you not teasing him?

When you didn’t say anything more he’d pressed, “Wait, seriously?”

“Mm-hmm,” you purred smugly, playing with the frayed hem of the shirt.

“I want to see it.”

“Are you asking me to send a photo of myself in bed after 2 A.M?” you asked with faux shock, “Sir, I am a lady.”

That made him snort, “There wasn’t anything ladylike about the way you took down that burger the other week. But seriously. You’ve got sixty seconds, kid. Otherwise I’m coming over there to see it for myself.”

Your breath had caught in your throat. His demand made your heart beat faster in your chest, the two of you had never done anything like this before. 

“Ok, ok. Give me a moment.” 

Working quickly knowing Bradley wasn’t one for idle threats, you positioned yourself where his shirt is clearly visible, but also featured a glimpse of the top of your thighs and a hint of the smirk on your lips. Satisfied you sent it off to him and put the phone back up to your ear.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out incredulously. You didn’t know if he meant to say it out loud or not, but you’d felt the heat work its way in your cheeks all the same.

“Come on then, Bradshaw. You’re up. Tit for tat as it was.”

“I didn’t realize tits were on the table,” he rasped lowly.

You were thankful he hadn’t made this a FaceTime call, so that he didn’t see the way your jaw dropped.

There was a thrumming working its way through your body. There wasn’t anything explicitly dirty happening, but it felt deliciously thrilling all the same. It was exciting doing this with him.

“Nuh-uh, rules are rules. You’ve got sixty seconds,” you tell him, trying to sound more in control than you felt.

A few moments later you see the notification pop down, and you click into the text. The first thing your mind registered was his skin. 

So much golden skin. 

He was leaning against his head board, navy comforter bunched around low on his waist. His hair was a little mussed, and his mouth was pulled to one side in a half-smirk. He was just so handsome, you could even see the fine trail of hairs that led to his---

“Goddammit, Bradley!” you’d exclaimed putting him on speaker, so you could still hear him without putting your phone back up to your ears since you were too busy staring at the picture he had just sent. “Are you kidding me? This is some serious one-handed fodder!” 

You could hear his booming laughter on the other side.

“Happy now?” You could hear how pleased he was with your reaction in his voice.

“Truly, the happiest. You have no idea,” you replied, albeit a distractedly, “But, full disclosure? I am going to be gazing at this so disrespectfully after we hang up.” You’ve never been so bold before, but everything about that moment had been electrifying with him. Because of him.

“Enjoy your one-handed fodder, kid. But full disclosure?” his voice was teasing as he used your own words against you, “You’d need to use both hands. I’m glad you’re home, I’ll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, sweet girl.”

He hung up on you without waiting for a response as you gaped into your home screen.

As images filled your head of what it would look like to have both of your hands wrapped the length of him, you let your fingers trail down your stomach and under the waistband of your underwear.

You had already lost a lot of sleep thinking about Bradley. Dreaming about how it would feel to be naked and pressed close along his body. He runs so warm normally, would he be even hotter to the touch as you both rocked against each other? You wanted to know the sounds he made when he came.

Too desperate to come to bother reaching for your vibrator, you had propped your phone against your spare pillow looking at that photo of him cozy and warm in his bed, and with your other hand you easily slid two fingers into yourself. Circling your clit with one hand as you worked yourself with the other.

You wanted his fingers. You wanted his mouth. You wanted his cock. You wanted all of him.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself think about Bradley. His molten brown eyes. His strong forearms. The tantalizing veins of his thick neck. The way his mustache feels against your mouth when you make out in his Bronco. The powerful grace in the way his body moved during a game of dogfight football.

You imagined him unreservedly and unabashedly. 

Above you. 

Below you. 

Behind you.

You came like a flash. Back arching as you spasmed against your own fingers while thinking about his.

And a few minutes later, just as your heart rate had settled back down and you were about to turn your light off, you got a text from him.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝. 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍. 𝙸 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚘, 𝚔𝚒𝚍.

Which promptly had you tossing your phone away from you as you squealed into your pillow. 

It was so easy to lose yourself in his kiss, breathing in each other’s air. Your mouths are drawn together like magnets. His hands are high on your ribcage, his brave thumb caressing the underside of your breast. You are dizzy off of the feeling of his tongue stroking yours.

There is an earnest yearning in the way you both kiss each other. In the way you touch each other. It’s almost like you’re trying to make up for something. 

“I can feel you thinking, sweet girl,” he says a little breathlessly as he pulls away from your mouth. His lips are swollen and his hair is a wavy, brown mess. “Am I not going a good enough job over here?” 

You know he is teasing you, but you can tell that he is giving you the gentle opening to talk about what distracting thoughts are pulling you out of being in the moment with him.

“I was just thinking about when you picked me up in your old Montero for the first time. You were leaning against it like my very own Jake Ryan,” you tell him as you place kisses across his cheek.

Not exactly the truth, but you don’t want to ruin the mood by telling him what was really on your mind. Not when you wanted to make him feel just as good as he was making you feel.

“I loved that car,” he moans lightly as you kiss along his jaw, his hands sliding up your back.

“I know,” you hum against his ear, “You didn’t talk to me for like a week when I spilled my milkshake in it that one time.”

“I should have kept that car, she was a classic,” he sighs as he leans his head against the back of the couch to look up at you. His hands skimming up and down the sides of your waist, still hard beneath you.

“You know, my parents still think I was some kind of manual stick-shifting wunderkind,” you tell him grinning down at him. Your thumb tracing the long scar there under his Adam’s apple.

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have taught you how to how to drive when you were fourteen,” he says with fondness. The grin on his gorgeous face nothing short of sheepish, “Your mom can never know. I still want her to like me.”

You smile briefly thinking about him teaching you in the afternoons after school when neither of you had practices to attend in the abandoned parking lot across town. 

How he had patiently taught you how to shift from neutral into first even after stalling out multiple times in a row. He had done his best to hid his wincing from you when you inevitably managed to grind the gears because he didn’t want you to feel bad about it. You can still remember how loudly he whooped for you when you managed to start it and get it moving in one go. Afterwards, he had taken you to the ice cream place to celebrate, that time with him in the driver’s seat. 

When you had finally gotten your learner’s permit your parents had called you a natural. And you had immediately known that there was no way you were ever going to tell them you’d learned from Bradley. That was a secret just for the two of you.

“You know,” you muse toying with button on his shirt, “Sixteen-year-old me would probably be losing her mind knowing that I get to make out with you anytime I want.”

“Huh, that so?” he smirks, a hand coming up to play with the ends of your hair, “Did you have a crush on me, kid?”

For the most part, before getting together you had been good about keeping your feelings for Bradley purely platonic. Except for a couple of slip ups here and there over the years, like that time at the Hard Deck after seeing the team play dogfight football for the first time. But that was another secret that you were never going to give up easily. 

Your friendship with him had always meant more to you than anything else.

“Mm, I wouldn’t call it a crush. What I had was a lot of hormones, and it didn’t help that you were pretty.” 

He had always been cute, even as a gangly teen whose arms and legs never seemed to be in sync, but the man looking up at you now was in a league of his own. His warm brown eyes were slightly hooded filled with mischief and something more.

“And now?” Bradley asks teasingly, his other smoothing up your back to press you closer. He leans forward to kiss the spot where your neck met your shoulder.

“Now?” you breathe out, as his mouth moves up along your neck, “Now I still have a lot of hormones, think you’re very handsome, and definitely have a crush on you.”

“Good,” he murmurs as his teeth graze your jaw.

“What about you?” you gasp, melting into him further. You want to keep him talking, so you don’t think about how you want his mouth on other places. He is so hard, so warm, and you want him so bad. 

But for as much as you wanted to strip off your clothes and his to let him have his way with you, it was the last boundary between being just friends and this. It wasn’t something that could ever be undone. And you wanted it so bad, it scared you just how much you wanted that kind of permanence with him.

It’s been almost two months and you’ve had him for years, but you want him like this forever.

“Yeah, there’s been a few times when I’ve caught myself thinking about you in less than friendly ways. You’re gorgeous, and smart, and funny,” He squeezes your waist, before admitting, “Always felt guilty when it happened though.”

He had thought of you too. 

Why did that make your chest hurt? Could you have been doing this for years?

“Tell me,” you quietly urge, running your fingers through his hair encouragingly, “I want to know.” 

You were desperate to know.

“Do you remember that house party we went to that Spring Break you visited me during my senior year at UVA?” he asks, letting his hands lightly trail up and down the tops of your thighs. 

You could have been doing this for years.

You didn’t trust your voice not to wobble and betray you, so you nodded your head instead.

“I had gone in to get us a couple more drinks, and when I came back out there were so many more people in the backyard than there were when I left. I mean, I was probably a little drunk, but it was packed,” he told you as his thumb rubbed small circles near your inner knee, “I remember looking for you when I got distracted by a great set of legs in pair of frayed denim shorts. And as I was working out how I was going to play it as I made my way over to her, she turned around.”

It wasn’t a secret where this was going. You knew what the ending would be before he even started telling you the story. Yet, you were still hanging on his every word with bated breath.

“You turned around. Couldn’t believe I didn’t recognize you in that moment. And the way you smiled at me,” he reaches up and cups your cheek, his thumb lightly tapping on the spot where your dimples lived, “God, I still remember, it hit me like a suckerpunch. Your hair looked so pretty under the string lights they had put up.”

“They were the shitty red and green Christmas kind,” you whisper. 

You remembered that party, it was one of the last times you got to spend uninterrupted one-on-one time with him before he joined the Navy. Before your friendship turned into a long-distance game of catching up and phone tag.

“They were and probably a fire hazard too,” he confirms softly with a chuckle, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you gaze at each other. “I felt so bad afterwards that I had been checking you out. Like I was taking advantage of our friendship somehow.”

This was a new kind of openness between the two of you in this little moment of transparent honesty. A reminder for how well you know each other that there are still new things to learn. 

“I remember when you picked me up from the airport, I think it was like the first time we’d seen each other in person in almost a year. And I had this moment when I saw you waiting for me that realized that the boy I had grown up with was very much a man,” you sit back a bit to better look at him, his cheeks were still flushed from earlier. “But god, Bradley, now? Now, you’re devastating.�� 

You wanted him to have these parts of you, to fill him in on the things he didn’t know, the things you kept close to your heart. It was your story, but it belonged to him too.

“C’mere,” he murmurs as he wraps his hand around the back of your neck pulling you back into him. Your mouths are a whisper away from each other as you share the same air, and he is looking at you with such open want, “I didn’t realize until recently how much time I spent trying not to think about you like that when you first moved here. And now that I can, you’re the only thing that’s been on my mind. You’re so fucking distracting, sweet girl.”

If you thought you were needy before, now you felt like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin if you didn’t get your mouth back on his right that very second. 

He meets you half way for a desperate kiss. It’s hungry and open-mouthed. You come alive under his touch, his kiss energizes you in a way that no drug or stimulant ever could.

Your hasty, frantic hands landing everywhere. Never content to linger in one place for long. Not when you have so much of his body you are dying to map with your hands. With your mouth. You want to touch him everywhere. You want to taste him everywhere.

You nibble on the fullness of his lower lip, seeking entrance into his warm mouth. He opens for you without hesitation, his tongue ready and waiting to welcome yours. You can still taste the juicy, full-bodied red on him from that long-forgotten bottle of wine.

He says your name on shattered breath, pulling away only long enough to place wet, hot kisses down your neck, down your chest. Your hands are buried in his hair, clutching at his sunkissed waves.

“This damn bow,” he rasps as he roughly pulls at the little bow at the center of your flirty red dress as if it has personally offended him by its very existence. Once untied it reveals a bit more of the swell of your breasts to his eager eyes. 

Your skin feels almost a size too small for your body, and your throat is tight with want. His kisses were like champagne going straight to your head. His hands are the only thing you want touching you.

You don’t mean to let your hips rock against the firm swell of him, but his resounding groan is quite possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your life. And you know in that moment you need to hear it again, and again. So you roll your hips once more, intentionally this time.

Bradley’s low moan of pleasure makes you feel heady and reckless. You lick a stripe along the underside of his jaw. His hands fly to your ass, sliding under that frilly dress, grasping you with greedy hands when you kiss a spot behind his ear. Even in your frenzied state you file away his response to that for later.

And then you are lost in the feel of his mouth. Of his hands on you. Of your hands on him. Of the taste of the skin of his neck. Of the feeling of the zipper on his tight jeans hitting your clit just right as you writhe on top of him.

It starts as a shiver that makes your whole body erupt in goosebumps as he encourages the rolling of your hips against him. You’ve never felt as cared for, as safe as you do in his arms.

The tingling sensation begins at the base of your neck and like a flicker start it shoots down, down the entire length of your spine setting off in your cunt in spectacular electric bursts.

You spasm deliciously and devastatingly against nothing with Bradley pressed thick and hard against the center of you. The shockwaves gripping your body as you’re left gasping and panting into the hollow of his throat. 

“Did you just...?” he asks urgently. You can’t speak yet so you nod vigorously into his neck. “Fuck. That’s so hot.”

Pressing closer, you try to hide from the intensity you know you would find in his eyes. Burying your face further in his neck as you try to catch your breath. You breathe him in in hopes that his soothing cedar scent will help settle the rapid beating of your heart. 

“Sweet girl, please. C’mon, I gotta see you,” he murmurs desperately. He pulls his head back a bit trying to create more room to get a look at you, attempting to coax you out by brushing your hair back, “I need to see it. Please. Let me see your face.”

You can feel how turned on he is, can hear it in his voice. And you’re feeling truly shy around Bradley for probably the first time in your life.

“I’ve been thinking about what you’d sound like for weeks,” he tells you with such soft sincerity.

“Bradley,” you whisper finally pulling away from the sanctuary that is the crook of his neck. His heated gaze roams your face, drinking you in. He brings a hand up to cradle your cheek, this thumb skimming your lower lip. There are a thousand different emotions coursing through you and you know he can read them all. 

“God, you’re so beautiful. Talk to me, please,” he breathes, “What’s going through your mind? It’s just me.”

You have been so careful trying to skirt around this conversation. It has been the elephant in the room after every date, every heated make out session, every honeyed goodnight kiss. 

And you want him too much to keep avoiding this, even though it scares you.

“That’s just it, Bradley, it’s you!”

“It’s me?” he asks confused.

“Yes! It’s you, it’s me, it’s us. It has never been like this with anyone else. I have never felt like this with anyone else. And the way you look at me sometimes, it’s overwhelming.” You were still feeling flustered from your surprise orgasm, and you know you aren’t expressing yourself clearly. But you feel so flayed open before him.

“Hey, hey,” he says soothingly, “If this is too much for you, we can slow it down. Or if you aren’t feeling it, we figure out how to be just friends again.” He can’t hide the wince on his face as he says it, but you know he honestly means it. “It might take me a couple of decades to forget the way you sounded just now, but we would figure it out together.”

“No, I don’t want that. Don’t you get it? I feel the complete opposite, and that’s the problem!” 

“Ok, wait. You just came on my lap, sweet girl,” Bradley’s voice is unmistakably proud, even as he breathes out raggedly. “I’m trying to get my thoughts in order over here. Because that was the best thing I’ve ever heard and I’m having trouble getting my head on right to talk about this. So as much as I love having you on me, we have to readjust before we can continue.”

You make a noise of protest as maneuvers you both so that he is stretched out across the couch, while you’re nestled securely against the back of his couch and half draped over him.

“Let’s try this again,” he says rubbing small circles on your back, “I don’t want to mess this up by not knowing exactly where we stand with things, you are too important to me. Are you worried it’s going to be weird or that it’s not going to be good?”

“No.” That legitimately never even crossed your mind. But now a seed of doubt had been planted in your already anxious mind, “Are you?”

“Not even a little bit,” Bradley tells you with a shake of the head, “I know it’s going to be good.”

“That confident about your sexual prowess, huh?” It felt easier, safer to make a joke.

“Well, yeah. There’s that,” he hums with a half smirk, “But it’s you and me, kid. It’s gonna be good. How could it not be?”

There’s something about his steadfast sureness that warms your chest.

“Can I tell you what I’m worried about?” He waits for your nod of confirmation before continuing, “I’m worried about how I am supposed to function afterwards. How am I supposed to just get up and go to work in the morning after I’ve had you in my bed? Because once I get to have you like that, I’m never going to stop wanting more with you.”

And there’s the longing again, that pull in your stomach. You want him too, you want him too.

You are comforted knowing that he has things that have been on his mind too, that you’re not alone. Even if the two of you are concerned about two different things. And it was only right that you let him in, you could be unreservedly vulnerable for him. 

“Bradley, it’s been so incredibly good with us. But I’m so afraid that once we take this step, that all I am going to be thinking about is that we could have been doing this for years. That we could have had each other like this for years.” Even the idea of it hurts your heart, at the glimmer of the possibility that you could have gotten to this point with him sooner. “And I don’t want to have any regrets about the way our story has gone up until this point. But I especially don’t want to have any regrets about missing out on time with you.” 

He presses a kiss to your forehead in understanding. 

“Let me ask you this then, would you trade any of it?” he asks as he slides a hand around your neck to tilt your head up to look at him, “Any of the adventures we had when we were younger? Or the weekend visits? Or any of the late-night milkshake runs for it?”

You knew the answer immediately, “No. No, I wouldn’t trade a thing.”

“Then we’re right on time,” he promises sincerely as he skims his thumb along the line of your jaw. “We’re right on time, sweet girl.”

It’s so perfectly Bradley, the way he knows exactly what your heart needed to hear.

And all the extra pressure you had been feeling releases from your body because it’s Bradley.

It’s just Bradley. It’s just you. 

It’s just you and Bradley. 

It’s been that way since you were kids. 

You’ve had him as a friend. You still have him as a friend. But you also get to have more. 

Of course, it’s going to be good.

Of course, it’s going to be right.

Of course, there were going to be what if’s. It was inevitable.

What you weren’t going to do is let yourself dwell on what-could-have-beens or regrets because you have him here and now. And that is more than enough. 

It’s everything. 

You untangle yourself from him to stand up as he watches you apprehensively. Waiting to see what your next move will be.

Standing in front of Bradley, you hold his gaze as you find the zipper on the side your little red dress. All concern leaves his face as you draw it down slowly before him. He doesn’t blink as you let the silky fabric skim down your body, puddling at your feet. And then he is looking at you with open awe and longing. 

Stepping out of it lightly, you confidently make your way to the stairs towards his bedroom.

“Well, are you coming?”

PART 2

Not to worry, friends! There is more to come! After all, we have to find out what happens once she goes up those stairs!

To those who like to spice up their life a la the Spice Girls, I’ve got more headed your way (and by more, I mean smutttt)! I have a taglist, so let me know if you would like to be added!

I wrote this as a birthday fic for the one and only @gretagerwigsmuse​! (Surprise! See I can be sneaky, even if you already knew about it, haha!) It may be a little late, but I hope it was worth the wait!

Mood board for Part 1

(This is written for part of my ‘Like I Can’ series. You don’t need to read it first, but you might want to. It’s pretty cute! You can check it out here!)

You can check out my other fics here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes @soleilgrec @keyrani @chicomonks 

[themorriganwitch]

Jake Seresin NSFW Alphabet

18+ below minors do not interact

Aftercare (What they are like after sex): Listen, he was a fuckboy until he met you. So, there was barely anything post sex except for a short peck on the lips before he left and spend the night curled up in his own bed. When the two of you started dating, he was mighty overchallenged with you pouting at him, cause he did not wrap you up into his strong arms immediately after he pulled out. It took him a little while to fully let loose and be intimate with you besides sex, but after a serious conversation where you both honestly talked about your needs, wants and concerns, he tried his best to fully satisfy you. 

Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):  On himself definitely his upper body. He spends a lot of time in the gym and takes a lot of pride in his looks. But no matter how much he loves his body himself, he loves it even more when he sees you watching him at the beach or at the gym, eyes ranking over his body while you absently bite your lower lip. Jake teases you enormous for it, but secretly he loves it. 

On you he has a thing for your ass, your boobs, and your eyes. Your ass because he is big on physical touch and always needs to have a hand on you, preferably on your nice ass no matter if its thick and juicy or small and cute. Your eyes cause it’s what caught him first when you looked at him all those years ago on a Friday night at the hard deck. Your boobs because there is nothing better for him then laying on top of you after a particular stressful day at work and burry his face in your boobs while you play with his hair. 

Cum (Anything to do with cum): He is not as messy as Rooster is, like he would not feel the need to mark you up with his cum. He either likes it clean inside of a condom, or if you are on the pill, he is obsessed with cumming inside of you. Also highly believes that spitters are quitters. 

Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs): Hangman has two. 

It took him ages to open up about this to you, but as soon as he did, he felt an instant relief. Jake just can’t stand the thought someone could find out that the cocky, handsome aviator has a thing for sucking your nipples. He doesn’t know why he likes it so much, and he honestly does not want to find out but something about it is incredibly comforting and calming for him. 

He has not told anyone yet but sometimes he fantasizes to be watched by someone else while he fucks you senseless. And if he says someone, he means Rooster, because he would love to see the jealousy in Bradley’s brown eyes while he slowly thrusts into you and makes you feel oh so good, letting his wingman know that he will never be able to satisfy someone as good as Jake Seresin can. (The One Shot to this Headcanon can be read here)

Experience (How experienced are they?): It’s Jake Seresin we are talking about. He has been around the block. Probably five times. But I would say that he is not that experienced when it comes to real connections and intimacy, being vulnerable is something he needs to learn with you. 

Favorite Position (pretty self explanatory)

 Everything where he can see your face. 

Mirror Sex:  Ride him in reverse cowgirl position while the two of you look at each other in the mirror – pure heaven.

Missionary: He is obsessed with seeing all those expressions on your face. How your eyes roll in the back of your head when he hits that spot inside your velvet walls or how your pretty mouth forms a silent O whenever you shatter around him and squeeze him just right. 

Doggy Style: On the rare occasions when he does not need to see your face as much as he needs to fuck you deep into the mattress, doggy style is his go to. He has a perfect grip on your hips and he can spank your ass occasionally while he hears your whimper beneath him. 

Goofy (Are they rather serious oder humorous in the moment?): The most you will ever get out of him is small smile when you try to crack a joke to lighten the mood, even though you should know better. When it comes to Sex your man is on a mission and nothing else. He will do everything to satisfy you in every way possible and that’s why he is determined to stay serious. 

Hair (How well groomed are they?): He is completely shaved in down under. Jake just prefers this look for himself, cause it fits his pretty boy aesthetic. For you he would also prefer you to be hairless, but he would never pressure you into a certain way how to treat your body. As long as you’re a happy and confident within yourself, he is a happy guy. 

Intimacy (How are they during the moment?): He had plenty of Sex without ever feeling really intimate with someone. He spends all his time to build his career and never really saw a need to get emotional close to someone. Until he met you. After he experienced loving sex for the first time in his life, he got absolutely addicted. I highly doubt he could ever go back to his fuckboy years, after he experienced real emotional closeness and intimacy with you.

Jack off (pretty self explanatory): He prefers the real deal, but he is not above it. Sometimes he is deployed, or you are simply not in the mood for sex, so he would jack off. 

Kink (some kinks of theirs): Hangman has several kinks (copied from my Dagger Squad Kink Headcanons)

Breeding kink – that man wants to see your belly round and your tits swollen. Could be the southern boy from a huge family in him or just him in general. No matter what – that man wants to see you pregnant with his child. 

Cockwarming – Jake being the touchiest human on planet earth loves nothing more that feeling your walls hugging him perfectly close, especially after coming right back from a long deployment. 

Edging – He’s a teasing piece of shit. Nothing gets him more going that hearing you beg for his cock. 

Exhibitionism – slipping his hand between your thighs while sitting at dinner with Rooster and his girlfriend knowing only, he can feel the wet patch on your panties even though you are in a room full of people, that’s probably the best dinner he ever had. 

Brat Taming – Mouth ‘Make me’ at him, after he admonished you several times for you teasing him on a navy ball and will fully loose his shit as soon as you come home. 

He also has a thing for degradation and humiliation

Location (Favorite Place to do the deed): Hangman is pretty open and risky. He has railed you in the bathroom of the hard deck and several clubs already, as well as at the beach and his car. He never would do it on base though or anywhere else where someone of his admirals could see the two of you.

Motivation (What turns them on): Competition. Tell him your Ex-Boyfriend was the best sex you ever had, you will regret this two hours later and won’t be able to walk for the next couple of days. Watch Coyote doing push-ups at the gym for a second to long, he will rail you at home until you won’t be able to spell Coyote correctly.  Tell him after girls’ night how Phoenix rhapsodized about how her boyfriend make her cum three times by giving expertly good head, he will make you call her right after he doubled this sum, so you have to tell her with shaky voice that no one will ever be as good in bed as Jake Seresin is. 

No (Something they would not do): He would never share you with someone else. Hangman likes to think about the idea to be watched while fucking you, but he would never ever let someone else touch you the way only he is allowed to. He is way too possessive for this. 

Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skills): That man is skilled af when it comes to giving head. He knows all the tricks; he spends his time to learn your body language and he has you squirming and shaking beneath him within seconds as soon as he puts his mouth on you. But I would say that he can get quite egoistical when it comes to giving oral. Like he does not do it on purpose but if you don’t remind him from time to time, you will get down on him way more than he goes on you. If you remind him though, he will feel bad enough to spend literally hours between your legs, long enough to beg him to let you go because you are so overstimulated but satisfied. 

When it comes to receiving head, as said before he highly believes spitters are quitters, but he would never be mad at you if you would feel uncomfortable to swallow his cum. 

Pace (pretty self explanatory): He can do slow. He can do passionate. He can do hard. He can do rough. Whatever you need or want it’s yours. 

Quickie (pretty self explanatory): Accepting the challenge to make you cum in a spare amount of time? He is absolutely down. He loves the rush; he loves the intensity, and he loves the risk (if you are doing it at a semipublic place)                                       

Roles (Which role do they take during sex): He mostly is a Mean Dom. Jake just has a major thing for degradation and humiliation. Everything consensual of course. I do see him having sub tendencies, which he slowly explores with you. Being vulnerable is not easy for him, but he trusts you enough to let you know this side of him.

Stamina (how many rounds are they able to go?): He is fit, he eats very well and takes good care of himself. He definitely can go for as many rounds the both you want until the both of you are left very satisfied. 

Turn off (What turns them off) : Bad hygiene or someone who is overly lazy (as long as these are not consequences of mental health struggles) He spends most of his time either to work on himself or he works his ass off to get a promotion at work. Someone who has no ambitions or does not care about themselves enough to treat them good, is simply a major turn off for him. 

Unfair ( How big of a tease are they?): Biggest tease on planet earth. He will do literally anything to see you all flustered, cheeks slightly red and eyes wide in disbelief. No matter if he would send you dirty texts with some nice Ab pics while you are out for brunch with your friends or if he fingers you beneath the desk while out for lunch with the dagger squad but pulls out his fingers right before you come – he will always find a way to get you hot and needy for him. And he will tease the living shit out of you for it. 

Volume (How loud/vocal are they): He is big on praise. He loves to tell you who good you take him and what a good little slut you are for him. Besides this he loves to hear you beg. This man will literally have you beg for everything. You want his cock all down your throat? You better ask nicely. You want to cum on his fingers? You better go on your knees with doll eyes and beg.

Wild Card (their wild card): He is extremely competitive, which also shows in his Sex life. You probably never had a more intense orgasm than the day, you spend with Jake, Bradley, and his girlfriend in a cabin in the woods. Even though you and Jake already finished and were all cuddled up, slowly drifting into sleep – the moment he heard Rooster railing his girlfriend in the room next to yours his competitive side was awaken and it did not take him more than 5 minutes to get you all worked up and thrusting into you so deeply that you could not help yourself but to scream his name.  No need to say the smirk he wore the next day at breakfast table, because he pulled three more orgasms out of you while Bradley made his girlfriend only come twice, annoyed the hell out of everyone but Jake. 

X-Ray: (What's going on in those pants?): He is about average length, but he is deliciously thick with a prominent vein on the bottom side of his cock. His tip has a pretty pink tone. 

Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): High. Extremely High. If he can get his hands on you – he will. Whenever and wherever you let him, just sign him that you are in the mood, and he is ready to go.

Zzzzzzz (How fast do they fall asleep after it?): He will always make sure you are being taken care of after sex. After the two of you had your conversation about what you want and crave after Sex, he will always make sure you get what you need. No matter how stressful his day was, he will wait until your head meets the pillow and he hears your sweet snores until he falls asleep himself. 

[sharks-n-bones]

I'M OFF WORK!! YA KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS???

Guess what time it is? 👀

THAT'S RIGHT BABY IT'S BRUCE TIME LET'S GET IT

Bruce, obviously, realized the world was flooding pretty quickly. He has a restaurant right on the beach! Of course he'd notice!

At first, they thought it was just tide coming in a bit more than normal. It happened sometimes, though usually it was because of the moon being a bit closer to the planet, but whatever. Nothing unusual

But then the tide didn't go out nearly as much as it should've, and the next time it came in it rose even further. After a few days, Bruce finally realized something was wrong. The tide was gonna reach the restaurant within a few days, at this point!

The other Vacationers seemed to notice too, as the next day, everyone was building boats so they could head to the mainland. With the help of Brandy and a bunch of other Vacationers, Bruce made a restaurant-style boat

The lower decks had rooms for him, his kids and Brandy and the top deck was set up to be a restaurant. It was built Vacationer size with plenty of amenities troll size as well, for himself and any other trolls who visit his new sea restaurant

Bruce's original thought was to head to the mainland, see if they could rebuild there and build a dock for his restaurant, but the flood was taking over the mainland as well. The beach was just gone, the water reached the trees and was creeping higher

Then the storms came. Every other day, storms ravaged the remaining land and the rising sea alike, and Bruce and Brandy had to steer their ship away from the land and further out to sea to escape them

It was hard to tell the kids that the world was flooding, that they had to stay on the open sea’s now or at least until the water stopped rising

When the water stopped rising though… there weren't anymore island's big enough to be sustainable long-term

So after stopping at a couple more islands for wood, fruits and vegetables, they built another layer above the restaurant and made a small farm. They grew wheat, fruits, veggies, potatoes, corn, whatever they could

They learned through trial and error how to make flour and which plants had medicinal uses. They weren't experts by any means, but they were learning

Whenever they made an island stop, Bruce and Brandy made time to have fun with the kids on the beaches. They'd swim and surf and enjoy the water whenever they weren't working or gathering more resources for the ship

Despite everything, the water just felt better and better. It felt rejuvenating, refreshing, especially after a long day of work. They didn't get as many customers as they used to, but still many ships would stop to try out their restaurant

Bruce honestly thought his hair was going to go downhill, but it looked better than ever! It was nice! He hardly had to do anything to maintain it anymore, it was almost weird. He still did his usual hair routine though, when he could. Resources were limited nowadays, after all

A few months pass since the water stopped rising, and Bruce was starting to get the hang of things. Word spread about his restaurant on the sea, and he and Brandy would get customers more often than not

There were some odd things happening, though… Bruce didn't know what to think of it. He didn't know if he was hallucinating or if the skin between his fingers had somehow gotten… longer… it was something he'd noticed after washing his hands before cooking, one day, but he assumed it was just his mind playing tricks on him

There also seemed to be a small rash going around, though for some reason it only affected the sides of the neck? He'd gotten it, Brandy had gotten it, as have his kids and some coworkers. Their homemade itch relief ointment helped, but the soreness remained

Another kind of strange thing that Bruce has noticed is a new genre of Trolls visiting the restaurant. Sea shanty trolls, they said they were. Their music was so unique, but it sounded nice and sounded fitting for the world being flooded. Bruce would find himself humming their songs as he worked

They had set anchor at another island for supplies, and a few other ships full of trolls, vacationers, and a couple bergens had stopped by to try out their restaurant on the sea. Even a few techno trolls came out of the water to try it out! It was busy, for once, and Bruce was going around taking orders as usual

He paused when he passed a table of mixed trolls, hearing a techno troll mentioning something about how the flood started. His ears perked and he walked over. He asked how they were enjoying their food, before easing himself into the conversation and asking what the techno troll was saying about the flood

The neon troll's voice hushed to just above a whisper. He told of a legend among techno trolls, of an ancient species of troll known as sirens. He told of their beauty, of their strength, of their voices so powerful they could hypnotize people

He told of their control over water, how they had the bottom halves and colorings of ocean creatures and how they could make themselves look like land trolls, legs and all

He told of how he believes the elder techno trolls made a huge mistake. How centuries ago, the techno trolls used to live alongside sirens. He told of how they used to live peacefully alongside each other, of how the sirens would protect then from the big fish in the sea and how the techno’s accepted them as their own

Then, he told of how the ancient elders feared the sirens power and their abilities. The elders feared what would happen if the sirens suddenly turned on them. He told of how the elders discovered an old and powerful magic

He told how the elders lied to the sirens, saying there was a giant eel in a large cave system that had been lurking at the edges of their village, possibly waiting to strike. He told of how the sirens, wanting to protect their friends, ventured into the cave to fell this great and terrible beast, and he told of how the elders followed them in secret and sealed them inside with that old and powerful magic they had found

Bruce was horrified by this story, but it didn't end there. The techno troll then told that when the world began to flood, the current elders ventured to the cave and found it in shambles, completely broken apart and collapsed. The sirens had broken free, and the elders worried that they wanted revenge

Bruce paled. He slumped into the empty seat he'd been standing next to. The techno troll continued, saying how there was something different in the water now. Some ancient and powerful magic

He mentioned how he'd noticed changes in land trolls and vacationers who'd spent a lot of time in the water. How he'd noticed the spaces between fingers becoming webbed, how rashes appeared on the sides of the neck, how their voices were becoming stronger

Bruce paled further, thinking of the rash on his neck, on Brandy's, on his kids- he looked at his hands, at the spaces between his fingers, at how the webbing really did stretch higher than before. He wasn't hallucinating

The techno troll went on, saying how his theory is that the siren elders must've pumped this ancient magic into the water to make land species more accustomed to ocean life. As a courtesy or as a warning, he didn't know

Bruce let out a shaky breath. He asked the techno if he had any idea what the sirens were planning. The techno shook his head. Warned him to just be careful. Told him not to fear the physical changes, as they'd help them survive in the ocean

Bruce nodded and got up, attempting to go back to work as usual, but how could he after all he'd heard? He handed the orders off to a coworker and rushed off to tell Brandy of what he'd just learned

[topgunslut]

rescued (part 1)

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x f!reader, established relationship

read part two here!

cw: near-drowning, protective jake, slight panic, probably drowning inaccuracies, paramedics, crying, loving penny <3, jake being an asshole, probably navy inaccuracies, hospital, undressing infront of a doctor, slight medical terminology 

requests are open! 

the football drifted farther into the wet sand as the wave pulled the tide back, getting ready to crash. you chased the oblong ball as it rolled back with the current.

it was dog-fight football day. after the uranium mission, the dagger squad made it a weekly occurrence to play offense and defense at the same time in front of the hard-deck.

usually, you and penny sat on a blanket on the sand, having a small picnic while gawking at your boyfriends, respectfully. but today you decided to join in on the game, which everyone, especially jake, had been begging you to do.

the football halted when it met a rock, and you reached down to grab it.

“y/n!” urgent screams from the shore bounced into your ears.

confusion was written over your face but it soon disappeared as you looked up at the massive wave that towered over you. as if it were in slow motion, you watched as the wave descended right onto you. your body plummeted to the ground, knocking the wind out of you. on cue, you tried gasping for air but instead ocean water filled your throat.

that was the last thing your remembered until you felt somebody carrying you bridal style back up to the shore. “y/n, open your eyes for me,”

you started coughing aggressively, the salty water going all over your chest or spilling back into the ocean. jake, who you figured out was carrying you let out a relieved sigh as he continued the short walk back to the rest of the gang.

your throat burned not only at the seawater coming back up, but also embarrasment from your stupidity. hiccups combined with sobs and coughing were definitely not pleasant on their own but when combined, it felt like you were slipping under the waves again.

“put. me. down!” you managed to get out with the cocktail of emotions and physical reactions in your way. you wanted to just act like whatever just happened didn’t, you just fell jokingly and jake ‘saved’ you, showing his heroic side.

“not a chance, sweetheart” his words caused you to start flailing around, trying to get free of his grip while more panic to set in. his grip around your frail frame got stronger.

“stop moving, you’re going to hurt yourself,” jake scolded you, sounding angry and it did nothing but make you feel more embarrassed. your plan would have fallen through anyways because penny was already on the phone with the paramedics and the dagger squads concerned faces met yours.

jake set you down on your towel that was already laid on the sand from your earlier attempt to soak up the sun. the sun was about to set and jake had his raybans ontop of his dirty blonde hair, getting a better look at you. he brought his lips down to the top of your wet head, pressing a small kiss into your salty roots.

“yeah, she’s concious,” penny spoke into the phone. you were grateful for the group of friends that you had and for the fact that they stayed calm in high stress situations juxtapose to yourself.

immediately your bloodshot eyes went to find the eyes of the man who pulled you out of the water, jake but instead they met with everyone elses. you groaned and tried to speak but nothing came out but small coughs. phoenix came up behind you and gently rubbed your back.

you hissed when the adreneline lowered and you felt a sharp pain in your thigh, glancing down to see a long scrape that had yet to be bleeding. thankfully it didn’t go any deeper than the dried skin on your leg, but it still hurt like a bitch.

jake had appeared, sitting behind you on your towel so you could lean on him.

“there you go,” jake gently rubbed your arms. maverick popped a squat in front of you, with a tiny flashlight in his hand. he shined in it each of your eyes, making you see spots.

“pupils are PEARL,” he said. after the uranium mission, maverick thought it was a good idea to get everyone in the dagger squad some sort of medical training. he had already had some, from being in the navy for so long.

“i’m fine, i promise, guys,” you said hoarsly, “i just took a little bit of a tumble!”

“a tumble my ass, you nearly drowned! you went unconscious for fucks sake,” jake said, his tone making you feel like an idiot. for some reason, jake had been acting cold.

“tumble or not, the emts will be here in a few,” maverick said, tucking the flashlight back into the small first aid kit.

soon enough, the paramedics parked on the street and after a few examinations, they instructed jake to take you to urgent care so that you could be seen by a provider. he decided he and maverick just take you over to miramar where he could get you right in at the infirmary.

you sat up in the hospital bed, looking at all the ivs in your arm, anxiously waiting for the scan results. your grumpy boyfriend who went outside to talk to maverick didn’t help. based on his attitude, you wouldn’t be surprised if he just left.

“how’re you holding up?” penny walked past the curtain with a bottle of apple juice and your phone in her hand. you eyed your phone.

on cue, the infirmary doctor walked in and scanned his card on in the computer, logging him in. “y/n, how are you feeling?” he continued to type a few things into the computer.

“horrible, like i got hit by a big fat bus,” you whined. penny set the apple juice and your phone down on a near table and felt your forehead. her motherly instinct was enough to make you at least try to smile.

“i’m sorry, that’s usually normal. you’re very lucky you got out of there. when you were pulled out of the water, do you remember coughing up fluid?” he asked, rolling over to the bed on his stool on wheels whilst pulling his stethoscope off and putting the tops in his ears. you nodded.

“just going to listen to your lungs, make sure there isn’t any unwanted fluid in there. can i ask you to slip the top of your gown off?”  

you didn’t care that some man was going to probably be looking at your tits but the cold man who would soon walk through the door sure did. you were too exhausted to feel uncomfortable or awkward, it was purely medical.

without much effort, you pulled one of the strings in the back of your hospital gown and the top of you was left uncovered. the slight chill of the hospital made your nipples stiff which was to say the least a little embarrassing but it wasn’t like you were turned on.

he pressed the cold metal piece just below your left breast and then your right, instructing you to take a few deep breaths. in the midst of your second deep breath, the door swung open to reveal a not so calm jake.

he didn’t know how to feel once he saw you but he slowly shook his head at you with a glare, that felt like an arrow shot into your fragile, already cracked heart. you looked away from him.

“alright, your lungs sound nice and clear,” the doctor grabbed a freshly printed paper from the hidden printer next to the computer and scanned the results. “matches your ct scan results perfectly.”

penny helped you tie your hospital gown back on.

“everything looks normal, i’ll get the nurse to help you with your ivs and your discharge papers,” the doctor walked out of the room, making sure to sign out of the computer.

“tylonol will be your best friend for the next 48 hours. if you still have aches in three day, pop back in and we’ll see what’s going on,” the nurse carefully removed the ivs and gave you the clipboard with the papers proclaiming your discharge. you gave her a forced but grateful smile as she left.

you swung your legs over the side of the hospital bed to get into the clothes that penny had grabbed from your house before she came by.

“i’ll give you two some privacy,” penny stepped out, leaving you with jake. aches flooded your body as you stood to grab the clothes but you put on a brave face even though your eyes prickled with tears.

minus the bra, you eventually got dressed while jake stayed leaning against the wall, watching you the entire time. “you just want to show the whole world your tits, huh?” jake mumbled while he grabbed your hand, helping you get up. that was the last straw.

“i’ll be at pennys for the next few days,” you said, frustrated with your boyfriend, opting out of staying in your shared home. the best you could, you walked out of the hospital room.

by the time jake followed after you, you and penny had left.

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[sincosma]

So. Star Trek: Strange New Worlds. I need to sing this show’s praises (no plot spoilers!) and if you’re a Trek fan, you need to watch it ASAP.

LISTEN. This show is on another fucking level. I know a lot of trekkies have been complaining about “New Trek” (even though a lot of their complaints are curiously similar to the complaints about VOY and DS9 back in the day), but SNW is genuinely one of the best Trek shows PERIOD. Say whatever you wanna say about the missteps of early Discovery or the massive stumbles of ALL of Picard, but SNW came out the gate FINE-TUNED and honed in on the show’s message, identity, and place within the canon. And it SHINES. No weak pilot or cumbersome first seasons; SNW knows what it is and goes for it without hesitation. Love the irony that a show about the captain from the TOS pilot (which had very strange circumstances) and yet his own show knocks it out of the park. Delicious. At last, justice for Jeffery Hunter’s Pike!

They absolutely perfected the episodic-mini-serialized-arc style that DS9 pioneered. Pike is hands down the best all-around captain in the entire series, with the friendliness and openness of Archer, the daring and charisma of Kirk, and the principles and empathy of Sisko all rolled into one. There’s even a little bit of our beloved Janeway’s questionable decision-making and stalwart loyalty in his character!

The way they’ve highlighted each crew member with barely a single character arc fumbled is supremely impressive. Special mentions to the character arcs so far for M’Benga, Chapel, Uhura, and La’An. Ethan Peck’s Spock goes places that truly delight and shock me. The fan service has been subtle and tasteful (e.g. incorporating young Jim Kirk, references to future TOS show/movie villains, etc.). The deep lore cuts have had me shouting incoherently at the TV in excitement. Watching Lower Decks crew nerding out over TOS-era characters while SNW crew geek out about Archer, Hoshi, and Travis from Enterprise NX-01. These moments are so skillfully handled and feel so natural. It reminded me fondly of the incredible DS9 episode where Dax and Sisko end up on Kirk’s Enterprise.

Side note, I have to specifically mention episode “Subspace Rhapsody”…man, THIS is how a musical episode is DONE. Fucking BRAVO.👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

I’m truly impressed with the topics they’ve been unabashedly tackling with true Star Trek earnestness, optimism, and reverence. The challenging ethics of prejudice, eugenics, racism, sexism, fascism, war crimes. It’s all here, man. Yes, it’s not perfect and SNW of course has some issues, but this show hits the bullseye overall. Its flaws are completely overshadowed by its triumphs.

TL;DR: STRANGE NEW WORLDS IS STAR TREK AT ITS BEST.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“The Offering” Part 2 of 3 (A Namor of Talokan Fic)

Need to Catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Summary:

Lebadi has embarked on a two-year secret love affair with K'uk'ulkan on the high seas with a Wakandan houseboat she purchased for their clandestine hook-ups. All is well until their union is discovered.

NSFW. Smut. 18+. (6,254 words) Namor x Black Female OC

If you enjoy the content, please reblog!  That’s the only way our stories get circulated on this app!

"Baby, baby, baby… "

Evil Needle & Sivey—"Baby"

He liked to kneel before her and kiss her belly button first.

The indentation on her lower stomach seemed to be his activation button for Lebadi and she loved to stand over him, weaving her fingers into his soft black curls that crowned loosely around his scalp, still moist from the sea. The tip of his warm tongue dipped in and out and when he kissed the skin around her belly piercing, his dark brown eyes never left hers.

That was his way… always.

Touch. Kiss. Gaze up at her. Kiss again. Lick. Stare deep into her soul before sucking and tasting again, lowering his head to her sopping folds that plumped and bloomed open, revealing the sticky pink entrance to paradise. She learned over the two years of their forbidden courtship that he used those dark eyes to claim ownership of her. Every part of her. Cloying… fiery at times, and oh, so sensual, the sloe-eyed gaze of K'uk'ulkan demanded obedience. Submission.

She gave in.

The loss of will had her leasing a small houseboat in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Staying on the water was the only way to keep their liaison a secret from her world. He couldn't come on land without alarming her people, and she couldn't go down into his depths either, so they were forced to meet in the middle far off the Umkhombe Coast.

Anticipating his arrival was always the best part of their unions. She'd dance seductively on the deck, playing the erotic sounds of her favorite joot band, a style of Wakandan music that mixed instrumental sounds with dubbed vocalizations that played with the human voice in strange ways to evoke a hypnotic, romantic mood. Draped in a sheer azure cover-up with nothing else underneath except for a gold-hooped belly chain with matching bracelets on her wrists, Lebadi cranked up the swirling sounds and gyrated her hips with the syncopated rhythms. Tapping her bare feet on the deck with her arms dancing in the air, she snaked her body with sultry rolls of her hips to tease him from the sea.

Sipping on honey wine, she'd grab a handful of a mixture made from dried flower petals, spiced herbs, and brown sugar to rub against her shaved mound so that the scent of her juicy pussy was added. She called it her love offering and sprinkled it into the ocean, helping to entice his arrival sooner.

It always worked.

Humming and swiveling her loose hips, her eyes followed the line of the horizon illuminated by silver moonlight, waiting for the waters to part as her offering sank below the surface.

There!

A ripple breaking the tranquil ocean that grew into a wave rising to the starlight, his taut form bursting through a mountain of dark liquid, wings fluttering… behold… K'uk'ulkan. He flew high above Lebadi's line of sight, floating gently on a balmy breeze toward her, his dashing eyes never leaving her face.

Lebadi danced, twining her arms with slow sinuous motions that gestured for his company. When he landed next to her, she parted her sheer covering and fingered her folds, sharing glimpses of her wet arousal glistening like dew on a gossamer web across her fingertips.

"Namor…" she purred.

He closed his eyes and his nostrils flared, taking in the sweet odor of her swollen folds.

Down he went, on his knees, clasping desperate fingers on her graceful hips.

"In yaakunaj…" he murmured, sliding a fat wet tongue across her stomach before pushing his entire face into her pussy.

"Show me how much you love me, then," she replied with breathless abandon.

"Ch'ujuk," he whispered.

Sweet. That's what she tasted like to him. She kept that pussy sweet and delicious, like a ripe mango, eating plenty of fresh fruit and honey before traveling to see him.

Hot kisses slathered her clit with saliva and his mouth wasted very little time becoming reacquainted with what belonged to him. He sucked and licked her delicate parts, tracing wet silhouettes with an artful tongue tip. She gasped out loud, holding back her release until he told her she had permission to do so.

Standing up, Namor peeled off his skintight shorts, and she helped him unfasten his choker necklace. Tossing it on one of the bolted chairs set up for deep-sea fishing, he led her into the interior of the boat where the luxury stateroom awaited their in-depth union. He slid his fingers on the pearl clasps of her cover-up and pulled it off. Slanting his head to align his mouth with hers properly, his warm belly rested upright against hers, turning their bodies into writhing, serpentine creatures yearning to become one flesh… one being.

The interlocking of their tongues breathed life into her clit and it came alive between her thighs, thumping a staccato rhythm that made her pussy throb in anticipation for deep-rooted dick that would take her far beyond her stimulated senses.

Lebadi dropped to her knees and engulfed his thickening length into her greedy mouth, slurping his dick like it was the last bit of nourishment she would ever have between her full lips. Her neck worked his girth as it stretched her lascivious mouth, making her cheek and jaw muscles exhausted from handling such a thick erection. She made his dick shiny and licked around the head where pre-cum spilled all over her tongue. Namor tasted like the sea and promises of something smoky and rich that she couldn't get enough of. He threaded his fingers through her textured hair, twisting into the heavy locs securely before yanking her head back so her eyes stayed fixed on his face. Fisting his dick, he pressed it against her painted lush mouth, forcing her to lick away the spewing of clear arousal that had his lips twisted up with pleasure.

The man his people called K'uk'ulkan hated surface dwellers.

But he loved her.

The cognitive dissonance was never lost on Lebadi, even with all the libidinous, erotic things he did to her wanton body. She became a willing concubine under his magic touch. He was unpredictable. Dangerous. Irresistible. Their forbidden love was an addiction she couldn't be without. They were both from cultures that prided themselves on secrecy and discretion. Being practically invisible to the rest of mankind kept their people safe… and yet, they chose to be reckless with one another. It made their love illicit and delicious.

His fingers grazed against her cheek as a clap of thunder boomed above them.

"K'iibal cháak," he said. "The thunder… it will bring a strong rain."

"There was a ring around the moon. It won't rain until three days from now," she said.

He sniffed the air.

"Sáamal," he said.

Tomorrow. It would rain sooner than what the gauzy, reddish ring of light around the moon told her. Rain meant poor weather on the water, no lazy day of sunshine, and swimming with him in the open ocean.

He lifted her in his arms and placed her lovingly on the berth they would share. His dick pointed at her with a raging hardness that needed careful tending. She parted her thighs and used her fingers to push open her folds for him. The thick vein on the top of his erection showed the severity of his need. His slit wept pearls of pre-cum onto the berth. His regal bearing looked mystical in the low candlelight she had illuminating the quarters. He crawled onto the bedding and wedged himself between her legs. Gripping the heft of his dick securely, he twisted his fingers under the thick ridge of his frenulum and pushed the wide tip against her slick opening. Her pussy throbbed, letting him see the pink entrance wink open. The sight of it excited him more, and he held his slit closer to her as sizzling ropes of thick cum shot all over her, drenching her folds. It was so hot that she hissed with the intense feeling, wanting more. He gave it, cumming all over her clit, drowning it with a whiteness as creamy as icing on a cake. Namor groaned out loud and aimed his release toward her stomach, where warmer streaks painted her dark brown skin, pooling into her belly button before turning clear and messy all over.

Lebadi whimpered and played with his cum across her vulva. She spanked her glossy folds and Namor growled with pleasure deep inside his throat. Fingering her pussy, she licked his cum off of each fingertip like it was a sugary glaze. He dipped his finger into the sticky heat and traced it along her lips until she swallowed it all. Pushing her legs open wider, he parted the curtains of her inner lips and penetrated the deepest part of Lebadi, forcing the whimpers of happiness to ring in his ears, ushering a pleased smile to his face that lit up his eyes as well. He cradled the side of her neck and pulled out, swiftly thrusting back in again to make sure he hit her spot just right and she clawed his back to let him know he made it.

Linking her ankles around his waist, she panted as he stroked her walls, seeking new pleasure points to rub against, plucking out heavy moans from her mouth. At one point, she couldn't even close her lips, the delicious tugging against her clit weakening her hold on his shoulders. Arching her back, she sought his right earlobe and bit the pointed tip that was so sensitive to the touch. Namor groaned and pistoned his hips faster, the soft wavy pubic hairs of his groin mingling with hers until everything was frothy and wet with sweat and her slickness. The friction caused her to pee a little from the pressure inside and out, but her lover didn't care. He accepted all offerings from her body, everything became lubrication and a sign that he was putting in the necessary work to please her.

The churning water outside couldn't create more waves like the ones he made between the joining of her thighs, fucking her until she was cross-eyed and the cultivated coils in her thick hair flattened. His lips tilted up at the corners like a crescent moon then, pleased with her breathy sighs and pleadings for more until a strange shadow clouded his dark eyes. He stared at her primrose pink opening surrounded by the rich raven brown of her vulva, adoring the contrast of colors her body created compared to his sun-drenched sienna brown. Licking the pebbled nipples on her breasts, Namor thrust forward and cried out her name, his orgasm transforming his face into such sublime beauty that Lebadi wept under him, breaking apart all over his sturdy length.

His warm sweat fell onto her and cooled within seconds. He stayed inside of her pussy, filling it with more cum until he was satisfied that she was sated from clenching all over him.

Namor rested his head on her breasts. His breathing became soft as she fingered his hair. They fell asleep together just as light raindrops fell outside, making a gentle patter on the houseboat's roof. Both of them had been wrong in predicting the weather. No matter, though. Their entangled bodies basked in the afterglow of lovemaking.

The rain splattered harder on the roof.

Lebadi woke up with Namor still asleep on her chest, looking all serene and cozy while she listened to the rainfall outside. The houseboat rocked on the water and she wondered if they should move more inland to avoid larger waves.

His body had cooled on top of hers, and she reached for a thin blanket to cover them.

She stopped.

They weren't alone.

The shadow of a person stood across from them in the stateroom. The candles had burned out, and the moon had shifted its position in the sky, making it difficult to see who watched the forbidden lovers sleep. Lebadi shook Namor awake and his senses went into overdrive immediately. He rose from the berth, blocking her body from the intruder.

"Ba'ax ka beetik?" said a muffled woman's voice in Namor's language.

Namor picked up a small lighter and held it against the wick of a large yellow candle resting on a small wooden dresser. He spoke to the woman with an irritated tone.

"Táan in chan weele'—"

"Jach u yoojel tuus," the woman replied.

Namor flung a dismissive wave of his hand to the stranger and she lunged for him, coming into the light. Most of her face was covered with what looked like a green and blue turtle shell. Her skin was a pale blue color, too, a sharp contrast to the dark wet hair that hung past her shoulders. She had eyes like Namor's. Intense and angry.

"Ko'x!" the woman shouted, grabbing Namor's arm.

He shoved her back and Lebadi jumped out of the berth, grabbing for a pair of panties and a tank top lying across a chair.

"Is this your wife?!" Lebadi screamed, more embarrassed than angry.

Namor lowered his head before shaking it.

"She is not my wife… eetbak'el… same family… my cousin. Namora."

Namora tilted her head and stared at Lebadi with narrowed eyes. Her voice sounded guttural and mean.

"Bix a k'aaba teech?" Namora spat out.

"Do not answer her," Namor said.

Lebadi held her own name on her tongue as Namor commanded. Namora took a closer step, and she moved behind Namor for protection.

"I can't tell you my name," Lebadi said.

"Ma' tu na'tik," Namor said.

"She doesn't understand for real, or are you just saying that to fool me?" Lebadi asked.

Namor grabbed Namora's arm and pulled her outside onto the open deck while still naked, sliding the door shut behind him. Lebadi waited on the berth and listened to them argue. Their passionate voices raged with loud aggression for over an hour. When silence prevailed, she opened the door and stepped out to check on him. The rain had tapered down to a light drizzle, despite the grouping of menacing gray clouds at least a mile away in the sky.

Namora sat on one of the fishing chairs and Namor sat next to her on the other one. Lebadi reached into a cooler near the sliding door and pulled out two bottled waters. She handed one to Namora.

"Uk'ahech? A k'át uk'ul?" Lebadi asked, hoping she pronounced the words 'thirsty' and 'drink' correctly without starting a war of words between the cousins again.

Namora shook her head and waved her hand.

"She can only drink underwater. She can't breathe up here," Namor said.

"Oh," Lebadi said.

She put the bottles back in the cooler and stood near Namor.

"Is everything okay? Why is she so upset?" Lebadi said.

Namor reached for her hand and threaded his fingers with hers. Namora jerked her head away as if the show of affection disgusted her.

"What is going on?" Lebadi asked.

Namora reached for a reed-thin necklace that looked like it was made from an abalone shell. She blew on it, but no sound came out that Lebadi could hear. His cousin dashed from the chair, leaping onto the upper edge of the vessel with her arms bowed to dive into the cold depths. Namor flew so fast that he caught Namora in mid-air before she even touched a curling whitecap. The wings on his ankles carried them high above the houseboat. Lebadi watched Namora struggle in Namor's powerful grip.

In the water, a blast of air from a blowhole caught her attention. An orca with a massive dorsal fin circled the houseboat as the Talokanil fought above it. Namor dropped Namora into the ocean with a loud splash and the orca swam to her.

"Namora!" Namor shouted down to her.

Namora threw one arm around the dorsal fin and pointed at her cousin with the other.

"Sáamal!" Namora shouted and the orca dove under a wave, allowing the sea to swallow them up.

A crack of thunder boomed, and bright swords of lightning clashed together, brightening up the sky, and transforming her lover into a deity lost to the world floating above her. Lebadi rubbed her arms as a fresh shower of rain poured down. Shaking her damp hair, she returned to the stateroom and changed into a warm robe. She used a towel to dry her tresses that clumped up into tight spongy curls. Namor met her in the small kitchenette and watched her make a fresh cup of ground Jabari Mountain coffee. She offered him some, but he turned her down, studying her face for a long time.

"Why did she come here? And why did she mention tomorrow?" Lebadi asked.

"She has seen me like this before."

"Like what?"

"In love."

Lebadi mixed sugar in with her coffee and sipped it with her back against the stove.

"So I'm not your first surface dweller girlfriend?"

"You are."

"Have you been married? Have children?"

"You never asked me things like that before."

"Because this has been a fun fantasy while we were alone. Someone knows about us now… and I realize we are really strangers. Fuck buddies."

Namor slid his hand around her neck and brought her lips to his, sliding his tongue out before they connected. He sucked on her probing tongue and did the same to her lips, forcing waves to tumble in her stomach. His kisses were always slow and demanding. The man knew her weakness with him. She pushed him back.

"I want to know more about you, Namor. Will we just hook up on the ocean every three months when you make time for me?"

"We are not what you say… fuck buddies."

"Answer my question. Have you ever been married?"

"I have."

"What happened?"

"She died."

"Did you have children with her?"

"I did. They died too."

"How?"

"They grew old and died."

Lebadi blinked her eyes a few times and tilted her head as if that made the understanding easier.

"What do you mean? How old were they?"

He moved away from her and lowered his head, contemplating his answer.

"Namor?" she said.

"My wife lived to be ninety-eight. My daughter eighty-one… and my son… seventy-nine."

"I don't understand, you… you're close to my age. How do you have children older than you?"

"Lebadi… I have lived for nearly five centuries."

Lebadi laughed and threw up her hands, turning away from the bullshit. A warm hand slid up her thin robe and held her shoulder. Namor turned her to face him.

"I am telling you the truth—"

"You told me you were a mutant. That explained the wings and your other abilities… but now you're an immortal?"

"How do you think I know your language and so many others? There was a time when your people were not so secretive."

His eyes challenged her to doubt him. She couldn't. He could fly. Breathe underwater. Had the strength of many men, and could summon creatures from the deep.

"My people named me after an ancient god. They believe I am the return of him and I have cared for them like they were my very own children. I have lived many lifetimes under the deepest parts of the sea and lost more than one family. Colonizers have brought pestilence to my people… stolen land… destroyed so much. They continue to do so, all over the world-"

"If you hate surface dwellers so much, why come to me? You could've left me alone after that first time we met."

"I could not forget you… could not keep you from my mind. Your people are like my own. They want nothing to do with the outside world, and that makes you different."

"What are saying? You want to live a lifetime with me, too?"

Lebadi held her breath inside her chest. She curled her hands between her breasts and Namor cuddled her in his arms, peppering her face with tiny kisses.

"Namora is angry because she doesn't want me to hurt anymore. She has been alive long enough to know my last wife and the pain it caused me to lose her. After my first wife passed, I stopped having children. I had two more wives after her, and I made a vow to take care of my people and never have a woman again. Until you. My love for you clouds my eyes every day that I am by your side," he said.

Lebadi's eyes welled up, and he kissed away the tears that dropped like rain onto her cheeks.

"You are worth the pain… teech k'abéet ti'teen—"

"I need you too, but this is so much to take in all at once," she said.

"Tell me you love me."

She pressed her forehead against his.

"In k'áatech," she whispered into his parted lips.

The edges of his mouth ticked up into a smile, and he spanked her backside, making it jiggle. He rubbed on her bottom, lifting and separating the round mounds in his hands, squeezing them to enjoy the softness.

"Take this off," he said, fingering the top of the robe.

She undid the belt, and he circled her waist, lifting her up on her toes, his warm naked body evaporating the rain from his skin as it absorbed her heat too.

"Namor, what happens tomorrow?" she said.

"Namora will come back."

"For what?"

He walked her backward on her toes toward the stateroom. She pressed down on her heels to stop him.

"I don't want to talk about that now. Let me love you, Lebadi… your skin is like honey in my mouth, I want to lick all over your body…"

He nuzzled the side of her neck where fleshy immortal lips sucked and kissed chills down her spine and into her toes.

"Let me love you," he said.

She gave in, as he knew she would.

His morning loving was as good as his nighttime lust.

With her head down and her ass up in the air, he took her with long strokes from the back as she rested her head on a pillow at an angle where she could watch his face. His lips quirked up with tension and his right palm pressed down into her lower back. Her pussy squelched and became a gushy ride. Namor slapped her rump hard and used his right hand to palm her left ass cheek as he glared down at her throwing it back on him with frisky twists of her waist. He glanced at her face as if to question what right she had to have a pussy that good on his dick. She arched her back further, and he cursed at her with words that were too filthy for him to translate into Wakandan.

"Fuck me…" he panted.

"I know you like that," she grunted, shifting her hips and widening her thighs to let him sink deeper.

His fingers slid to her hips, and he gripped the supple flesh to anchor himself. He gave quick thrusts that just rested at the entrance of her pussy and she pouted, needing all of his thickness to make her feel full and stretched. Her toes lifted and teased the feathers on his ankles at the quill, which was highly sensitive to touch like the tips of his ears, stimulating another part of his erogenous zones that she liked to play with on his body.

"Fuck my pussy… s'good baby…," Lebadi moaned as she bit into the twisted, sweaty sheets.

Namor teased her entrance until she whimpered his name and he plunged into her, cumming while he did. He drenched her walls, then pulled his fat dick back out and ejaculated onto her ass and back before stretching her out again. His cum painted her walls with creamy warmth. He reached around and played with her clit, two of his fingers strumming a love language that only her stimulated nerves could translate. It was enough of a conversation to have her walls throb back with an answer. She squealed with pleasure and he laughed with obvious delight.

Afterward, they went for a swim.

The sky had cleared up enough to let a few rays of sunshine peek through. He dived below with fish netting and left her alone on the boat for an hour, returning with swordfish, shrimp, and mussels for them to enjoy at lunch. He cleaned and prepared the seafood. She seasoned and cooked it. They ate with their fingers and she showed him how to eat sticky yellow rice balls with a soft fermented flatbread that she made the day before. Namor liked the sour, porous texture of the bread, stuffing it down his throat with the fish tea she made from the swordfish.

Later in the afternoon, they moved the houseboat to another area when the water became choppy and unpleasant. Sleeping nude on lounge chairs, Namor watched her skin darken into a rich mahogany hue. He made her lay on top of him so he could run his hands all across her back and ass, fingering her pussy from behind until she came all over his hand with a sticky release.

Lebadi took a nap inside the stateroom for a few hours. She needed to recharge from a day of lovemaking and eating well. Waking up alone, she found several loose mothers of pearls wrapped in a large seaweed leaf fresh from deep sea oysters. Smelling the odor of good cooking, she rose naked and joined Namor in the kitchenette. He stirred a thin soup of clam meat that she liked for dinner. Holding up a spoon for her, she tasted it.

"Good… ooh, and hot," she said, waving her hand in front of her open mouth to cool the soup on her tongue.

The sun was low in the sky, announcing a gorgeous sunset that saturated the ocean backdrop with blazing red and deep mauve.

"Oh, shit!" she said, rushing back to the stateroom and changing into a short azure blue tunic over a bikini bottom. She dug into one of her travel bags soon after.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She strode back into the kitchen, clutching a small sachet of her annual offering to Mama Wati. Bypassing the beach and surfing with friends again in Birnin S'Yan that year, she wanted to honor the mother of the sea with Namor by her side.

"Come," she enthused, tugging on his hand to follow her.

Lebadi prayed over the small bundle before untying it and dropping some of the mixture into the sea. She gave the rest to Namor, and he sprinkled it with amusement.

"This god brings you joy?" he asked.

"She does."

He touched her hair, which had shrunk up into tightly coiled spirals from the seawater. She twirled a thick lock of hair and stretched out its length, letting it bounce back into place.

"Children in Wakanda who are born with extra curly hair, like me, are said to be children of the sea. My grandmother was a child of the sea, and so was her grandmother before her. I come from a long line of Mama Wati babies!"

Namor leaned over and kissed her cheek, then held her face with both hands to kiss her longer. She was about to wrap her arms around the nape of his neck when the houseboat listed to one side, knocking them off balance. Namor flew with her a few feet above the deck to keep her from falling. The surge of water lifted the boat and brought it back down roughly, and from Namor's arms, Lebadi witnessed a pod of humpback whales breach the surface and rock the houseboat even more.

"K'uk'ulkan!"

Namora called to him as she pulled herself up onto the back of the closest whale. Namor put Lebadi back on the houseboat and two tall Talokanil men climbed onto the boat, giving her menacing looks. Namor barked orders to them and the men stopped moving, watching their god fly onto a whale to confront Namora. There was no reasoning with Namora and she leaped onto the boat and grabbed Lebadi by the throat, tossing her far over the side. The icy splash punched into Lebadi's back as the dark waters covered her face. She held her breath, watching the light from the surface fade from dark blue to rising ebony the deeper she went down. Flailing her arms, she tried to swim back to the surface, her lung capacity helped by her years of surfing and having giant waves crash over her before she could get more air. Her loose tunic floated above her, tangling her arms and covering her face. She pulled it off and pushed her arms to her sides, swiping away the weight of water crushing her.

Kicking her legs, Lebadi's ascent was thwarted by another Talokanil woman below her, who grabbed her ankle and dragged her further below. Seconds later, Namora was upon her, her hands choking the life out of Lebadi. Bubbles rose out of her mouth and she became woozy from the lack of oxygen in her lungs. She almost blacked out to the haunting, melodious sounds of whale song, until Namor fought off his cousin and the other woman to drag her away. Lebadi noticed a great number of his people holding spears and hugged up close to the whales, using them as living ships to travel on.

Namor burst through a wave and flew Lebadi to the houseboat. The rage on his face frightened her and he screamed at his people. Most stood on top of the whales wearing the same breathing apparatus Namora had to use above the surface.

Namor pulled Lebadi behind him and faced his people. Rapid-fire conversations ricocheted around them as she tried to pick out any words that she knew from being with Namor. It was clear to her that the posse revered him even as they pressed to retrieve him, but his actions upset them. She upset them by claiming his heart.

Namora had a pleading quality to her voice, and it softened Namor. He kept glancing back at Lebadi, and the longer his people spoke to him, she could see his body language changing. His shoulders slumped, and a light went out of his eyes. The voices grew louder, more incessant, and Namor threw his head back as if the stars above them had all the answers he needed. Then… they started singing to him.

Even the whales emitted sounds that Lebadi could feel flowing across her skin above the surface. The haunting melodies of the Talokanil mixed with the vibrations of the sea creatures they rode upon brought Lebadi to her knees. She wept from the pure beauty of it.

Namor looked down at her with a torn expression. Namora climbed back onto the boat and held her hands before him like the wide maw of a shark about to attack. The others made the same hand symbol toward him.

"Líik'ik Talokan!" Namora said.

Namor closed his eyes and Lebadi felt a trembling soul shift inside of him. Namora nodded her head and the other Talokanil on the houseboat dropped back down into the water. Namor sauntered over to Namora and held her face. Only their eyes spoke in a secret language they knew. He stroked his thumb across Namora's forehead and slowly flew up into the sky alone, raising out his arms.

One by one, the whales and the sea dwellers departed.

Namor came back to her side, and she knew.

It was over.

His people came first and she would become a lost footnote to the seductive antics of a foreign god who wanted to fuck a Wakandan woman for fun.

She ran from him, hot tears spilling in fat drops onto her arms as she wailed and beat her fists on the berth. He tried to comfort her, but she thrashed her body to get his hands off of her.

"Get out!" she shouted, burying her wet face. Snot and copious tears clogged up her nose and throat.

He wouldn't leave her side and stroked her back.

"You said I was worth the pain!"

"They are my children."

"I am your woman! They can have you forever, but I only get this one lifetime, Namor! Just this one!"

He pushed back the springy curls on her forehead. His soulful eyes bled into her spirit and she covered her face to hide all the pain that soaked her heart. Namor spooned around her and she wilted. Crying and pleading meant nothing. His duty to his own came first. Always.

They slept curled into one another. By daybreak, he was gone.

Lebadi ate leftover shrimp and rice for breakfast and tossed all the uneaten food into the sea. She started the quiet engine of the houseboat and programmed it to take her back to the Wakandan coast, where she would leave it at the marina rental space she kept for the past two years. Leaving the seaside was the best thing for her sanity.

Returning inland for good would help her forget.

Lebadi couldn't believe the message on her kimoyo beads.

Her former college roommate, Okoye, stared at her.

"Well, did you make it or not?" Okoye said.

Sitting inside an artsy café together, a table full of half-eaten shredded beef and coconut curried rice between them, Lebadi stared at the formal rejection of her application to the Dora Milaje corps.

"I was rejected," Lebadi said.

"Why?"

Okoye's voice went up an octave as she swiped the floating image of the document.

"I failed the physical apparently," Lebadi said.

"How? You seem fit to me… wait… what is that look for? Did you already know you would fail?"

"Not when I applied, but…"

"But what?"

Okoye nudged her wrist with her hand.

"Talk to me, Lebadi. We were supposed to tag-team in this thing."

"I know," Lebadi said. "I just failed. You'll have to become a Dora without me."

"Rhino shit! You always wanted this. We went to school purposely cultivating our education to prepare us. You did an internship in the palace for Bast's sake!"

Okoye lifted a finger to her lips.

"Call them and ask what happened. They have to give you specifics."

"No, they don't. I'm not qualified. I'll find something else to do."

"Like what?"

"I can be an executive assistant to a senator, or maybe a personal assistant to a Council Elder," Lebadi said.

Okoye's kimoyo beads glowed a neon blue.

"Dammit, I have to go. I'm picking up W'Kabi from his mother's house. His hovercraft was fixed at the shop finally."

"When is he going to buy proper transportation? He's had that hovercraft since he was in high school."

"You know how stubborn he is. He'll have that thing until he's an old man," Okoye joked.

She touched Lebadi's hand again.

"Do you want to go out for drinks later? Talk some more? I feel terrible about this news."

"No, go on and spend your evening with W'Kabi. I'll call you later if I find out anything more."

Lebadi didn't bother to stand up. She let Okoye bend over and kiss her temple before she dashed out to give the love of her life a ride to the bike shop. When Okoye was out of the café, Lebadi tapped her kimoyo again and swiped the second page of the form letter for the Dora Milaje corps. There was a listing of categories that could be checked off to explain why a candidate was rejected. The one that prevented her from becoming a Dora Milaje for that recruitment cycle was smack dab in the middle of the page.

Pregnancy.

Lebadi sighed and paid for the food by swiping her kimoyo beads over the dishes and stood up. The thick-layered skirt and jacket she had on barely concealed the baby bump sprouting from her middle. Four months along and she was already showing. Fatter in the face, too.

Walking alone in the downtown area of Birnin Zana, she turned her head to look over at the double palace. Okoye would get through Dora Milaje training easily. Her father was a lieutenant in the military and a decorated pilot. It didn't hurt that her mother was an interpreter for King T'Chaka Udaku either. The dream was for Okoye and Lebadi to protect royalty and travel with the king. She rubbed her belly and sighed. There were plans in place for her to live secluded in Birnin S'Yan and work discreetly as a monorail operator until the baby was born. No one knew she was carrying the seed of a foreigner, a mutant king who once said he loved her, but left her anyway. They had been careless with sex, and now she faced a daunting future.

What kind of child did he put inside of her?

Part 3 Finale HERE!

A.N.:

There will be a part 3! I’m working on several fics at once so be ready! And once I fnally see “Wakanda Forever” y’all in trouble!!!

Reminder:  I switched up the spelling of the actual Mami Wata to Mama Wati to give myself space to reshape my ancestor’s actual African/African Diaspora spiritual water being into a fictional Wakandan one.

[wardenparker]

The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Dating Your Ex - ch 1

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

When Marcus unexpectedly runs into his ex-wife he is plunged into a world of complications where rekindled attraction and deep-seated insecurities reign. Unfortunately for him, it is also a world wherehis ex-wife is not the only ‘ex’ around, as a new case crosses his desk that will require all hands on deck. ✨💖Inspired by and based upon absurdthirst’s Tequila💖✨

Rating: G but this blog is Always 18+! Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: Mentions of: divorce, collegiate Greek life, underage drinking, food/alcohol consumption. Summary: Going to pick up his date from her office turns into a rollercoaster night for our dear Marcus Pike. Notes: Welcome to a brand new series and hang on for the ride! This should be a fun one, and Keri and I are really excited to spend time with Marcus once again.

Marcus hums as he searches for a parking spot. The building was off the Mall, a few streets over and it meant that he wasn't going to have to fight for a spot from overeager tourists who didn't realize how big their rental van was. Not that he begrudged anyone coming to the capitol to tour some of the amazing museums and monuments. He encouraged it, but the heavy summer travel traffic had given way to fall and he was enjoying the cooler temperatures. His stomach flutters slightly, not as much as it has from other women, but he tells himself that it's just because this is only the fifth one. He's trying to take things slow, although he doesn't know how sleeping together on the second date counted as slow. Maybe because he wasn't already planning out his future with the pretty restoration technician. He parks and hops out of his car, ready to pick her up from work since her own caar was in the shop. Reservations for Ambar were already set for seven o'clock and he was looking forward to sharing a bottle of wine and learning more about Silvia.

The FBI badge still pinned to his jacket means most people let him go by easily, with only security asking him to stop to check that his clearance is, in fact, authentic. The restoration labs are on the lower levels of the building with the offices above, and the large bullpen-style office full of conservationists that work specifically on photographs is on the second floor. He knows the building roughly at this point, mainly knowing Silvia's directions on how to get from the front door up to her desk in the second-floor photo office. She's been staring at the clock for the last half hour, intentionally a little overdressed for work so that they could go someplace nice for date number five.

She really, really likes Marcus and has been telling her little trio of work girls about him since the beginning, but doesn't have the same relationship experience he does since she's a few years younger. She's taking her boss's advice though - since Silvia adores her boss - and taking things slow. Not rushing into things is key, she's been told. Silvia sighs, glancing at the clock again right before the pebbled glass doors to the bullpen open.

"Hey you!" She calls out, waving enthusiastically. There's no one else in the office now so she can be as excited as she likes.

"Hey." His smile is easy, making the dimple in his cheek show as he puts a little bit of hustle in his step to reach with short statured brunette and give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Slow, he reminds himself. Moving too fast has resulted in a failed marriage and a failed engagement as well as plenty of relationships in between. "Are you ready?" He asks as he pulls back to smile at her again.

"Yeah, just let me send this e-mail and we can get going." She nods and sits down again quickly to type out two more sentences before hitting send. When she pops up again and grabs her purse the sound of commotion comes from behind a closed door on the other end of the bullpen. "Oh!" Silvia grins and motions toward the door in question. "You should meet my boss while you're here! She's awesome. Best bar trivia teammate ever."

Meeting Silvia's boss wasn't high on his list of things to do for the night, but he was always agreeable on small things like this. Plus, it was good to know the boss in case he ever needed a favor. Cultivating friendships and contacts was important now that he was running the Art Crimes division as a whole. "Sure. Lead the way."

"She's great," Silvia promises, leading him across the bullpen before knocking twice and pushing open the door. The brass name plate glints in the stagnant office light but he doesn't notice the name on it. "Hey," Silvia hums, sticking her head inside. "I'm headed out, but I thought I'd introduce you to Marcus before we leave. He'd make a great addition to our trivia team, ya know." It's about the sixth time she's told her boss that, but that's okay. She's just excited.

Marcus was expecting a woman, he was sure that Silvia mentioned her boss several times, but to be honest - he hadn't been able to keep up. She had a tendency to jump from subject to subject that made it difficult to actually understand what she was talking about. He hears a wooden creak as the boss gets out of her chair and rounds the desk. He plasters a friendly smile on his face and starts to extend his hand. "Nice to mee—” his words die in his throat as he comes face to face with the last person he had ever expected to see.

His ex-wife.

"Marcus?" You freeze on the spot, the polite smile that had previously been painted across your face replaced with complete shock. In a split second it's like you're back in the Kappa Sigma house while the dreamiest sophomore in the world makes fun of your cheap ass margarita to the tune of some god-awful party playlist made by one of his brothers. You almost feel like you can't swallow, so taken aback at the sight of him that your jaw may as well have hit the floor.

He sees you in the Chi Omega t-shirt, pulled tight over your breasts and your head thrown back as you laugh at his jokes. Looking at him like he's the only man in the world. In this split second he can feel the weight of the cheap wedding band he had worn proudly on his finger as he whispers your name. "I— what are you doing here?" He asks in shock.

"You're standing in my office," you remind him, amusement creeping into your voice as you start to feel a little relieved that he's as surprised as you are.

"You guys know each other?" Silvia is standing beside him still, looking between the two of you in honest confusion until a thought seems to dawn on her that makes her smile. "Hey, Pike and Pike. I never put that together before. Are you like...cousins or something?"

Marcus's eyes widen slightly as he turns to Silvia, completely forgetting that she was there for a moment and now thrown back into the very awkward reality of the situation. "Uhhh," he shuffles slightly and braces his hands on his hips as he absorbs the information that you had not changed your name back to your maiden name. "Doctor Pike huh?" He sees the doctorate proudly displayed behind you. "That's— that's great."

"Yeah...it, uh...it took a while. But it was worth the work." Shifting awkwardly from one foot to another, you look back at Silvia with a pit swirling in your stomach, and the wall of realization that hits you is far less innocent than the one that just hit her. "Th-this is who you've been seeing?" You ask, eyebrows raised in a way that just begs her to say 'no'.

"Yup!" But Silvia doesn't seem to be reading the room at all, and she nods happily while reaching for Marcus's hand. "This is what, babe...date six?"

Hearing her call him babe almost makes you sick, but you manage to barely hold onto your composure. Silvia's a hard worker and a kind person who has been a good friend in the time since she was hired. She's sweet and deserves to be happy. You just desperately wish she wasn't off being happy with your ex-husband of all people.

It seems wrong to hold Silvia's hand but he doesn't resist. Instead, he gives her a weaker than normal smile and looks back at you in abject horror, as if he's been caught cheating. Although the divorce papers that he had in his files at home would beg to differ. "Uh, you talk about me to your boss?" He asks, terrified over what she might have said since they have been sleeping together.

"Of course," Silvia laughs like it's not a big deal. "I told you; I tell my girls everything."

You cringe internally, wishing you could just disappear into the floor at this point. When Silvia says everything, she means it. "We...we've been friends for a little bit..." you tell Marcus. It had happened kind of by accident, but it was nice to have friends at the office. Of course, now you'll have to avoid socializing with her outside of work like the plague, just to avoid running into Marcus randomly.

Silvia shines a sunny smile on Marcus. "So...are you guys related? It's so weird I never noticed the last name thing before."

“I— uh—” he flounders like a fish out of water for an answer and immediately looks to you to see if you will step in and explain. The idea that she had shared fucking him with you nearly makes him want to melt through the floor although you know firsthand what he’s like in bed. Fuck, you had taught him plenty about what women liked. “So, about that, uh, it’s kind of a funny story.” He chuckles weakly. “We’re not related…anymore.” It’s wrong, it’s so wrong but he can’t help but think that Silvia isn’t the brightest crayon in the box for not picking up on the same damn last name. It’s not like Pike is common.

"We're divorced." The kindest thing you can do is just get it out in the open, instead of letting yourself and Marcus wither away in the awkwardness. Maybe it comes out a little more harshly than you meant it to, but only because you're trying not to squawk or get emotional over it. Over him. Fuck he looks good... Nope, don't let yourself go there.

"You're...?" Silvia nearly hiccups, her small eyes blowing wide as she looks between the two of you. "I...I didn't know you were married."

"It was a long time ago," you murmur, desperately wishing you were one of those people who kept a bottle of liquor in your office.

“I told you that I had been married before.” Marcus defends himself, oddly hurt that you kept his name but people didn’t know you had been married. Apparently, the divorce hadn’t been as friendly as he had thought, especially considering he hadn’t wanted it. “I—” he looks over at you, reminded of how fucking beautiful you are before he looks away, over to Silvia. “We got married in college. Divorced three years later.”

"Oh...god, I—I had no idea that..." Reality seems to finally catch up to Silvia and she tries for a joke even as she cringes. "I mean, you've got great taste."

At this point, Marcus isn’t quite sure who Silvia is talking to, but he needs to get out of this room. “We have reservations at seven, so we need to go.” He offers quietly.

"Right." Silvia smiles again, looking up at Marcus and giving his hand a happy squeeze. "Well...I'll see you tomorrow." She tells you, obviously just as glad to get out of the awkward bubble of suffocation that is your office as Marcus is.

"Yeah..." You nod, but it's stilted and awkward. "Tomorrow." For tonight...you'll be going home to drink a bottle of wine alone on your couch.

******

"—'m sorry, it's weird right?" Marcus looks up from the glass of Pinot Noir to find Silvia shaking her head and looking almost panicked as her words rush out. He shakes his head, a little ashamed that he hasn't been paying attention to his date. His preoccupation with his ex-wife living in D.C. and apparently working as a director at the Smithsonian was all he could think about. All while studiously avoiding the thought that you looked amazing – just like you had the day you had moved out of your shared apartment the morning after the divorce. "I'm sorry." He shakes his head and gives her a smile that is meant to be charming but probably falls slightly flat. "Could you repeat that?"

“I said it’s weird.” Silvia repeats, sinking in her chair a little bit like he’s just confirmed everything she was saying. Marcus has been completely different tonight - distant and awkward and inattentive. She knows why, of course. She isn’t stupid, despite what she knows other people say behind her back. “She’s my boss, and hopefully still my friend, and I like you but there’s a lot of history here that I’m just not comfortable being in the middle of.” Silvia sighs slightly, leaning her elbows on the crisp tablecloth between them. “Maybe it’s best if we just end things here?”

“Hey—” Marcus immediately feels guilty, reaching out and touching the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, I’ve been horrible tonight. I am just— surprised.” He settles on that and watches her closely. It’s not her fault, he’s been perfectly happy with his dinner date with her up until an hour ago.

“And I get that.” She nods, not pulling away from him but also not returning the gesture of comfort. “It’s not like I’ve never been through a breakup. But…” she blows out a breath, heavy and loaded. “Let me ask you this. Why did you get divorced?”

“Nothing bad.” He’s quick to assure her, not wanting her to think there was ever anything acrimonious between you and him. “We just— we got married too young.” He sighs softly, remembering the pain both of you had felt when you realized that you were both on very different pages for what was the plan over the next ten years. “So we decided the smartest think we could do was divorce.” He chuckles. “Nicest divorce ever.”

“God, you’re so nice,” she groans, laughing despite herself. She’s not laughing at him, but at the situation on the whole. How incredibly weird it is. “So…nicest divorce ever but you didn’t keep touch?”

Marcus frowns slightly, shrugging his shoulders. The truth was, he hadn’t wanted to see where you ended up, it was too painful. “We just…lost contact.” He settles on that finally. “I decided to join the FBI.”

“And she went to grad school.” Silvia knows your career path. She’s looked up to you since you were a guest lecturer at George Washington University in her undergrad years. Granted that wasn’t so long ago - and maybe the fact that Marcus is nearly ten years her senior is part of what’s making her feel like an awkward kid caught between parents right now. “Look…I just…I don’t want anything to get awkward or uncomfortable because of me being friends with your ex-wife, and…if I’m honest, it already feels pretty awkward.”

Marcus sighs, pulling his hand away and his shoulders slump slightly. Fucking ironic, the relationship that he wasn’t rushing into, he was getting dumped. “I understand.” The food is barely touched in front of the two of you and he motions to the waiter, asking for to go boxes and the check. “At least you can take dinner home.” He jokes weakly.

“I’m sorry.” She is. Honestly, truly sorry. But it’s better that this is discovered now when they’re barely anything to each other than in six months when she’s had a chance to develop feelings. “At least let me pay for dinner. It’s the least I can do, since I’m the one…ya know…breaking things off.”

“No.” Marcus shakes his head and reaches for his wallet. “Don’t worry about that.” He’s not going to hold a grudge or have any hard feelings. In fact, he’s a little relieved as he shoots her a small smile. “My treat. Last time.”

“You’re a really great guy, Marcus.” Whether it hurts or helps, Silvia is at least going to tell the truth. “This is just a super weird coincidence. That’s all.”

“Well, it will be something you can awkwardly joke about later on.” Marcus tells her as he hands the bill to the waiter with his credit card inside and reaches for his wine glass.

“Maybe.” She hesitates before doing it, eventually reaching out to grasp his hand for just a brief moment when the waiter places her to-go box in front of her. “It’s been really great to know you, Marcus,” she murmurs, continuing the streak of awkwardness by smiling and silently walking out of the restaurant.

Marcus sighs and finishes his wine before the waiter brings back the credit card slip to sign. Maybe this was for the best he tells himself as he takes his own box and gets up so they can clear the table. Obviously it wasn’t ideal to date her when she works for you.

****** The fact that you got shit sleep last night is really your own fault. A bottle of wine and an entire bag of tortilla chips with guacamole is not dinner by any stretch of the imagination but you just couldn't get yourself to eat anything substantial. It had been snacking and getting steadily drunker while you tried desperately not to think about Marcus, culminating in an extremely ill-advised viewing of Casablanca whilst wine drunk and digging through the remainder of the chocolates your sister sent you from her last trip to the Godiva outlet. This morning you're tired and hungover, glad to have nothing to do but paperwork and a little office organization that you've chosen not to pawn off on the new intern. Doing it yourself from time to time so the interns can get more hands-on time in research suits everyone nicely. Having already had a cup of coffee in order to even get out of bed this morning, you didn't stop for your usual venti soy pumpkin white mocha and you're regretting it, just wishing you had that little treat to pick yourself up when the weight of your own shoulders seems heavier than normal.

Silvia is nervous as she walks into the office, depositing her purse at her desk and deciding that she would stop in the break room before she talks to you. This is very convoluted - despite the insistence that things are okay, she wants to clear the air. Your regular coffee mug is in the drying rack, so she makes you a cup of coffee before carrying hers and yours to the door that proudly displays Dr. Pike, Director on the brass nameplate.

"Come in." Even though the knock is hesitant, you still hear it, and you pull yourself away from hard-staring into the void just in time to see Silvia poke her head in the door. Ah, shit. It's not that you don't want to see her - she's hard working and very sweet and honestly you like spending time with her outside work most of the time - but today it's just...it's fucking awkward. "Morning, Sil," you murmur, trying for a smile.

“I—I brought you a cup of coffee.” She offers, holding up the mug that is still steaming. “And I—I was wondering if I could, uh, talk to you. About yesterday.”

"Thanks." Nodding as you accept your Bat-Symbol coffee mug, you swallow a sigh and sit down behind your desk. Silvia moves easily, shutting your office door and leaning on the edge of the heavy wooden piece of furniture you sit behind for at least a few hours each day. "What did you...erm...want to talk about?" You know what, technically, but not specifically.

Silvia bites her lip and decides to just come out with it. “I stopped seeing Marcus.” She blurts out. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

"Oh." Whatever you had thought, however fleetingly, that she might say, that was definitely not it. "I—um...you didn't have to do that...I mean, he's a good guy. Just because we're divorced doesn't mean I hate him or anything." In fact, you never did. And that was what made it so hard. "And besides, how I feel about him has no bearing on whether or not you should go out with him."

“You’re my boss.” She flushes slightly and looks down at her own milky coffee. “And I just— I told you all about sleeping with him.”

“Yeah…” Huffing slightly, you shake your head and take a sip of the sweet, equally milky coffee she made for you, humming in appreciation. “And as your boss, I agree that it’s a little weird. But as your friend?” She reminds you a lot of your sister, actually, which might have been tucked away in your subconscious when you hired her two years ago. “As your friend, I don’t want to stand between you and happiness. If that’s Marcus? Well…I—I would completely understand. I mean, he’s a great guy.” He had been your happiness too, for much longer than five dates.

“Why did you get divorced? I asked him but he just said you got married too young.” If he’s such a great guy, why wouldn’t you want to stay with him? You had kept his last name.

“That’s what happened.” You nod slightly, but it’s obvious from her expression that she isn’t buying it. “We were really young, Sil. I mean we were still teenagers when we met. I was Mrs. Pike by the summer before sophomore year.” It had been the whirlwind romance to end all whirlwind romances, and your sorority sisters had cooed over it much more readily than your family.

“High school?” Her eyes are wide and horrified. She hadn’t thought you were that young. How was that legal?

“Oh, no.” Shaking your head vehemently, you realize you definitely left out a few details. You’ll blame the hangover. “College. Marcus is a year older than me, and his frat at UPenn used to throw this big welcome party for all the new Chi Omega sisters…which was the sorority I had just rushed. He was on the verge of turning twenty and I was not quite nineteen.”

“Oh, good.” She’s relieved at that, but she still couldn’t imagine being married that young. “So you were a freshman and he was a sophomore?”

“Yep.” You feel like a damn bobble head doll from nodding so much, and you sip your coffee for one silent moment. “We couldn’t even have champagne at our own wedding. We were kids. So when I say he’s great, I mean that. We just…dove in too fast, ya know? By the time we were starting to think about careers, Marcus was starting to talk about kids. And I…I just knew that I wanted to have a career before we had to start making compromises.”

“Oh.” Silvia hadn’t even gotten close enough to think about things like that. She had been too focused on her school and hell; she had been in elementary school when you had gotten married. “So you didn’t want kids and he did?”

"Basically, yeah." It was more complicated than that. There had been a great deal of immaturity and a bit of your own fear involved, but you're really not in a place to go into too many details right now. "We got divorced the summer after I graduated."

“If you hadn’t, you might not be Dr. Pike right now.” She decides, nodding. “I doubt he would have wanted you to go to graduate school.”

"I don't know." Over the years you've come to terms with that. That you'll never know what could have happened if you had stayed married to Marcus Pike. It's something that you had tucked away into the back of your mind, thinking you would never see him again so it would never matter. Oh, how very wrong you were. "But considering I got my doctorate at the Sorbonne and Marcus is an FBI agent? There would have been a rocky road no matter what. I just have to believe that I made the right decision. It’s not like our career paths are geographical neighbors or anything."

Silvia contemplates that and nods, taking a sip of her coffee. "I'm sorry that I sprang seeing him on you. You looked very shocked. I just— yeah..." She sighs and stands. "For what it's worth, he was preoccupied during dinner last night." She knows the difference when people are just not interested in her rambling and being completely in another world and last night Marcus hadn't been in the present. He was most definitely caught up in the past, a past that heavily involved you it seems. Giving you a small smile, she moves towards the door. "I hope that it doesn't make things between us awkward." She continues. "I have a lot of respect for you and have really enjoyed learning under your guidance."

"If anything, I think this brings us a bit closer together." The smile you return to her is a little lopsided and off kilter, but that's pretty honest to how you're feeling at the moment. "Thank you for coming in and not just letting it hang in the air. That shows a lot of maturity, and I respect the hell out of you for it."

That makes Silvia smile brighter and she ducks her head. "I'll go get started on my work, boss." She says before she scampers out of your doorway, feeling better about the entire situation. Marcus was a good guy, sure – but she wasn't going to ruin her job for any man.

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[kingofthe-egirls]

STOWAWAY: LUFFY x HIYORI

(cw: you are still the narrator, wano spoilers, hiyori gets sick from motion sickness, food/eating)

Songs: “Leader Of A New Regime” by Lorde

words: 1.4k

****

Luffy sits across from you, his legs spread and dangling from the wooden crate he’s straddling. He’s appraising you, his eyes hazy and his soft lips parted. He’s staring at your frame shamelessly. His crew is somewhere above deck, far away from this smuggled-into, tiny space.

Mugiwara no Luffy.

He’s sliding his strawberry tongue across his lower lip. A small, raspy breath leaves him as he kicks a sandaled heel against the wooden crate. He swings his leg, the dark hair shadowing his calf muscles.

“What’s your name, stowaway?”

He asks you, plainly.

His black coat sits heavy around his shoulders, his red cardigan left open over soft, strengthened abs. You shift, in the barrel he’d seen you pop out of after he’d spied you in this closet space. You lick your lips, switching between the lies in your mind you’ve studied like prayers.

“Hiyori.”

It’s your true name,

the one your father

gave you.

He smirks, pleased. “Nice to meetcha, Hiyori!” He says your name plainly, with an accent so different from your own dialect. He says it like—Hee-ya-or-ee—as he sounds it out. He seems to like its taste.

“Same,” you murmur.

He squats on the crate, his sandals firmly planted with his heels flat on the wood. You scratch the back of your neck, behind your satin collar.

“So, whatcha stowin’ away for?” He tilts his head, steady in balance even as the ship tips in rapid waves. Your own stomach is seasick, sweat beading cold along your face.

You swipe away the moisture on your soft upper lip. “Escaped,” You whisper, throat scratchy. You haven’t had fresh water in several days.

His expression scrunches, as he stares at you with a crooked head.

“Saw your wanted poster—in the News Coo,” You say, stepping out of the barrel on shaky feet. You’re wearing plum, pleated pants that billow out before tucking in at your ankles. Your kimono is a matching plum satin that’s embroidered with cream-silk cherry blossoms. Your wooden sandals clack on the storage room’s floor. You reach out to steady yourself on a nearby crate. “Sick—,” You warn, heavy-headed, before swallowing down the bile in your throat.

Strawhat Luffy suddenly hops down from his perch, his face stricken as he closes the short distance between you. His hands are warm and soothing as they cradle your face. “Hey…,” He whispers, worried, “Are you okay?”

You shake your head.

Your stomach churns.

Luffy sees you turn to wretch into the barrel you’d just been stowing away inside. It smells vile.

“Sorry…,” you rasp, swiping the back of your hand across your mouth.

Luffy is silent, before grabbing your hand and leading you upstairs.

****

It’s four days, before you’re allowed to leave the infirmary bed.

Sanji—chef with an even stranger accent than Luffy’s—is sitting next to you, spoon feeding you ginger soda.

“Slow sips,” he’s saying, his voice gentle and quiet. His flaxen hair is sifting over one eye.

“S’okay…,” You say, reaching for the bottle yourself. You’re sick of feeling sick. “I can drink the rest myself.”

Sanji scowls, but he hands you the green-glass bottle. You sip from it, gently. Eventually, your stomach settles.

“So…are you looking to join our crew?” He sits back in his chair, splayed out legs strong and lithe beneath his black slacks. The style is so strange here. So varied.

Searching the ceiling for answers, you suck your teeth as you decide what to say next. The spiderweb in the rafter isn’t helping you much at all.

“Sort of…,” you say, drawling out the words as slowly as syrup. They taste strange on your tongue, too.

“Is someone after you?”

You shake your head.

Sanji stares at you, his eyes burning hot coals into the side of your face.

You study the floor.

“So, what is it you want, Hiyori?”

You stare at the floorboards, your eyes focusing in on the glossy wood. There’s an acorn-shaped spot of knotted wood. It doesn’t help keep your head from spinning, and your saliva still tastes like ginger.

You sip the soda, and

speak:

“Freedom.”

****

So now you’re straddling the neck of the Going Merry’s goathead. Your hands steady yourself as you spill your stories to Strawhat Luffy.

He’s scrunching his eyebrows at you: drawn dark and serious over brown, sunlit eyes. He’s silently listening.

“…and I just wouldn’t. He said I had to, so I left. Escaped. Swam in a barrel until I somehow found my way to your ship. I need ya,” you sigh, swiping your hand across your face as you slurp up the sweet juice of the plums he’s feeding you.

“Need me?”

You nod, sinking your teeth into the plum’s scarlet flesh.

“Aren’t ya supposed to be the best, most dangerous pirate in the seas? News Coo says so much shit about ya,” You swallow, squishing the stone fruit between your forefinger and thumb. You steal another bite. “So you’re the person I want to have help me…find something. M’not sure what it is yet,” you sigh, seeing him perk up at your words. You stare at the plum’s stone heart. You scratch it with your thumbnail as you speak. “It’s silly, but…i have ambitions, y’know?”

“Dreams?”

Strawhat Luffy finishes your sentence. He regards you with softness: curious and honest.

You nod.

“What are your dreams, Hiyori?” He asks, sparkles in his eyes shot gold from the sun. He grins, radiant.

Fuck.

“Um…,” You stare at the side of the ship, at the sea’s choppy waves. The boat rocks still, but ginger and plums have settled your stomach—somewhat. You scrunch your nose. “I’m not sure…of the specifics. Yet. It’s something—with dreams. And…stars. And moonlight. But that’s it,” You say as you shake your head. Your thoughts are so scattered—so symbolic.

“It’s a song.”

Strawhat Luffy tilts his head. “A song?” He seems curious, intelligent. Interested. Chewing your lip, you respond.

“Yeah…a song. Something so—beautiful, that. Everyone else will listen to it and…say that they’re in love with me,” you trail off, swallowing the last of your plum piece.

Luffy scratches his head.

“Sounds like ya just kinda want someone to fall in love with ya,” he snickers. He sees your maddening blush and stops in his tracks. “S-sorry! I wasn’t meaning to be rude—,”

“No, it’s alright,” you snicker, scrunching your nose as you shrug in defeat. “That’s a way more honest way of saying it.”

“So,” he touches your knee, leaning in like he’s whispering you a secret, “What is it you actually dream about?”

“Sex,” you whisper, sedated by his chestnut eyes and sweet stone fruits.

“Sex?” He asks, tilting his head in earnest curiosity. You nod, far too risky with your own honesty.

“Sex is something I’ve dreamed about for a really, really long time. It’s something I really wanna start having, so that I know what it is and if it’s something I wanna keep doing. Y’know? So…for sex to start happening, I need…someone in my life. Who sees me. And…”

Here is where you turn sheepish.

“…falls in love with me.”

Silence.

Luffy is staring at you, his eyes tracing your features like he’s an artist studying a painting. His breath is sweet, as he speaks in whispers, “Is…sex something you need, from me?” He asks it curiously, appreciatively, as if he’s admiring you for saying such a secret thing.

You swallow.

“So…yeah,” you admit, fearsome blush staining your cheeks rosy. He smiles as you fidget with your fingers in your lap. They’re still sticky from the shared plums.

“Is that why ya liked my wanted poster?” He grins, all teeth.

You nod.

“Shishishi!” He snickers, hand on the back of his head to keep his sunny hat in place. He rocks back and forth, pleased. “Seriously?” He asks, wide grin only getting wider. He shrugs, delighted. “Me?”

You nod, sober as the sea breeze blows wispy turquoise hairs across your face. Your voice is steady.

“You.”

He smiles even wider now, as he slaps the back of his hand against your kneecap. He stands, letting out a satisfied grunt. “Welp!” He says as he helps you stand up, “We’d better get started,” he supports your elbow as he helps you stumble down from the Merry’s sheephead.

“Started on what?” You ask, flushed and rosy from the brief physical contact. He stares at you like he’s confused as to why you’re not getting it yet.

“Falling in love, duh!”

****

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Very cool 2002 Taos style adobe home in Valdez, New Mexico has the option of going off the grid or switching seamlessly to solar power. 4bds, 4ba, $1.750M.

This home is serene, Zen, and very artsy. An iron gate opens to the property and the first thing you encounter is this wonderful shrine.

There's a large entry with stone flooring and a tile bench with storage cabinets.

The kitchen is so cozy and warm. It has colorful lower cabinets and a huge fireplace/oven. There's a large turquoise island, but I don't know what that thing over it is, with the hanging light. White upper cabinets combine with the warm honey wood of the ceiling and door.

A large dining table under a beautiful Tiffany lamp is in front of a planter and a wall of windows that let in natural light.

Entering the living area through a turquoise doorway with a planter and built-in bookshelves.

This is lovely. Knotty pine columns, a beamed ceiling, fireplace and a mezzanine. Love the twig light fixture, too.

The columns are so interesting, and the ceilings and floors differ from room to room.

In this bedroom, the bed is tucked into a cozy alcove and there is a sitting room with fireplace.

So cozy.

Cool shower room.

The 2nd level mezzanine.

Lovely family room with knotty pine floors and a sweet little fireplace.

A home office has windows that look out on the terrace.

Nice 2nd bedroom has a log ceiling and a corner fireplace.

Here's a lovely bedroom with a platform for the bed. This house has such unique features.

There's a very sunny bath.

The primary bedroom is the most interesting room. It has a step-up area for the bed with a corner fireplace.

It has an en-suite bath and interesting closets.

Outside there's a covered patio with a great view.

And, a roof top deck with a hot tub.

The lot measures 6.88 acres.

[a-really-mediocre-writer]

Hi I love your writing and I’ve noticed you write for Chris Manawa, who I feel is under appreciated. There’s not a lot of writing on him so I was wondering if you could write something with him and reader on the boat and having a sweet moment together, like maybe messing around and play fighting? Just some fluff maybe some suggestive flirting. Thank you!

Sorry if my writing is a little messy English is not my main language.

Chris Manawa

GIF not mine, credit to @yanxidarlings

AUTHORS NOTE: hi guys so i havent written a fanfic or anything in like 3 years and my writing style may have change, lmk though if you would like me to write any other stories! requests are always open, and i have a few ideas for stories in the future as well. also after revisiting my only other chris oneshot i have realised that these are both set after his mom gets to walk the plank whoopsie

ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY <3

---

Although the boat saving our lives from being snuffed out by the apocalypse was a luxury that it seemed no one else could afford, it had its downsides…such as the constant close quarters with everyone on board, as well as the boredom. It feels like such a selfish thing to admit whilst knowing about the fates of those we knew and loved that we couldn’t save, but at the same time I didn’t ask to be thrown into this hellscape, surely I should be allowed a pass on my lack of gratitude.

One of those who were not able to survive long enough to see life on the boat was Liza, Chris’s mother- the boy would not let us forget his grief and her loss, with it being written across his face as if it was stuck in a permanent frown. Most of us if not everyone aboard tried to avoid him and his snaps and cold tone, however as one of the only other teenagers on the sea with him I felt it was my duty to at least try to connect with him, especially after he had saved my life during the city riots at the start after I had lost my own parents in the chaos and the dead.

Chris was sat looking up at the stars on the outer deck of the boat alone. The day had been a rough one, with Liza’s sea burial not going so smoothly, tensions were high between him and his father Travis.

“Hey stranger” I said warmly as I emerged from the inner boat wrapped in a blanket, making my way over to the troubled boy.

“Hey..” He replied solemnly glancing over to me, his eyes following me until I was sat cross legged next to him. I held a spare small blanket out to the boy who declined the gesture by pushing it gently back towards me. Rolling my eyes playfully, I sat up on my knees and wrapped it around his shoulders, making him blush and stiffen for a moment, only to relax once I had sat back down again. The silence between us was deafeningly awkward.

“Soo.. Whatcha doing out here?”

“The stars are so peaceful tonight..” He quietly replied as he gazed up into the moonlit sky.

“Yeah, that’s one good thing about life nowadays.. you can see all of the stars you wouldn’t be able to with all the big city lights back at home.” I smiled gently at him and he glanced down at me before going back to star gazing. He was in deep thought and holding back tears as he kept his head held high trying to stop them from spilling out, eventually failing as I watched one stray tear roll down his cheek.

“Chris, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I am here for you and can be a shoulder to cry on if you need it…I really care about you…” After a few moments he lowered his head to look at me and his eyes were bloodshot and glossy. He stared into my eyes as if searching for something lost, and eventually raised the corners of his mouth into a weak smile to tell me,

“Thank you.”

After a few moments of silence and us smiling at each other he looks to the side out to the water, “I feel like… no one understands what I feel here… my dad doesn’t care that she is gone, he didn’t care about her he’s too busy with his new family… you are the only person that I think cared that she died.”

We sat in silence for a while, thinking about what he had said, before Chris broke it again.

“Sorry…That was pretty heavy…”

I let out a soft chuckle and reassured him, “Hey, I can handle anything you know… I’m superwoman but for like…listening to people I care about” attempting to lighten the mood a bit and nudging him on the shoulder, which seemed to work as I caught him smiling to himself and playfully nudging me back.

“Yeah yeah don’t get cocky…” He smirks at me and I mock offence, dramatically putting a hand on my chest and joking back to him, “Me? Cocky? I could never- How dare you even THINK that…” I giggled watching him roll his eyes at my dramatic outburst.

“You are so immature,” he starts, “Sometimes I wonder why we are friends…” He stares at me for a moment as if he were analysing my every movement, before his eyes land on the blanket wrapped around me like a burrito and he decides to quickly snatch it from me, laughing and saying “Maybe it’s because you’re so generous for giving me your blanket”

“HEY!!” I shout as I sit in shock for a split second before lunging at him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders in an attempt to get the blanket back around myself. We are both wriggling around at this point trying to reclaim the blanket, as we forgot that the couch had a limited space, so when he eventually tried to get me off of him we both rolled down the steel drop from the couch to the deck, landing with a thud onto my back and physically wincing at the sudden pains shooting through my back. I was more shocked however to feel Chris landing on top of me, and when I opened my eyes he was there leaning over me, his hands either side of my head. We both just stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds too long, getting lost in his dark coffee coloured eyes; this then led to me scanning his face and admiring his undeniably handsome features and plump lips that he had begun to nibble into nervously. Feeling the blood start to rush to my face I decided to break the silence.

“Okay okay I didn’t realise that it was that serious to you…keep the blanket Manawa!” I giggled and poked his sides to shock him, which worked and his cheeks began to flush. He picked me up and I gasped, grasping onto his shirt incase he dropped me, but instead he put me onto the couch and sat next to me, opening up the blanket inviting me to sit wrapped up with him, which I accepted and crawled into his side, getting comfortable next to him as he settled the blanket over us both.

We sat awkwardly close to each other in silence for a few minutes, neither one of us wanting to scare the other away, but then Chris grabbed my hand underneath the blanket and without looking at me he said, “Thank you, Y/N… I needed this distraction from..everything…” he glances over at me “…you mean a lot to me…even if we have only just met, I feel like I have known you a lifetime, but it’s only been a month.”

I smile warmly at his words and glance at him before engulfing him into a tight hug, which he takes a few seconds to return.

“Chris, you mean a lot to me too. I would risk anything and everything for you, you are all I have left…” I feel the tears start to well up as i pull out of the hug and look him in the eyes, “…so you better not do anything stupid” I laugh and wipe my tears off of my face. He sits with an arm over my shoulders and laughs quietly about what I said.

“Maybe you aren’t ALWAYS immature and crazy… At least you aren’t boring.”