#when there's not enough content of the chars you like...so you gotta do it yourself

[artisfaction]

For the bitches who wanted Elrond with long hair, there you go. (It's me, I am bitches)

[saetoshis]

TOO BUILT UP! [‹ BLLK ›]

[‹ WITH ›] nagi ; barou ; kunigami ; sae + kaiser!

[‹ SUMMARY ›] how long they last during NNN!

[‹ MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS ›]

fem!reader, all chars are 18+, mention of wet dreams, some dry humping/grinding, brat!reader + brat tamer!kunigami, some begging, mild degradation [sae + kaiser], dacryphilia [kaiser]

[‹ NAGI ›] a week tops!

nagi doesn't like the idea of participating in the first place, and he can't help but grumble out how much of a pain it is to do such a stupid challenge. but he can't resist your pretty pleads, so he'll sweep his complaints under the rug and try his best - just for you. but he can't make it, not when you snuggle into him looking all cute in his huge hoodie as he's sprawled on the bed playing games. the glimmer in your eyes and the way your thigh drapes over his lap is enough for his breath to catch in his throat, cock twitching in his pants at the slightest friction. "ah... don't wanna play this boring game anymore," he mumbles as he tosses the controller to the side of the bed, but you didn't know that he wasn't talking about the video game until he started pawing at your body under your hoodie and kissing against your neck.

[‹ BAROU ›] two weeks!

barou scoffs at the dumb idea, his mind all-too-convinced that it would be far too easy so he doesn't even wanna bother. all is normal for a week or two, except when the slow ache of pent-up testosterone from game after game starts to wrack his body and mess with his head. he'll find himself waking up after a wet dream and that's when he knows - maybe this challenge was harder than he thought. it's when he experiences recurring dreams of your pussy squeezing around his cock and your cute noises rattling in his head that he finally does something about it. it takes nothing more than the sight of you wearing one of his big t-shirts as you saunter into the kitchen for him to finally crack. "fuck... just cleaned the counters, too..." barou mumbles between panted sighs as he lifts you onto the cold marble. "m'gonna have to clean again after this."

[‹ KUNIGAMI ›] almost the whole month just to prove a point!

kunigami just sneers when you offer up the idea. he's stubborn enough to push through just to spite you, all in efforts to show you just how unfazed he can be without having his dick inside of you every night. he'll tease you throughout the month with lingering kisses and mumbles of 'mm, what ya starin' at? thinkin' about somethin'?' when he's fresh out of the shower with just a towel hiding exactly what he knows you want. but after a few weeks, his resolve starts to break when you tease him back. he knows what you're doing - when you cuddle up against him and push your ass back into his hips or kiss along his neck, he knows you're just being a brat on purpose. and that makes him want to break you even more. "such a fuckin' tease, aren't you? want me to fuck the brat outta you? hm?" kunigami jeers as he grinds his hips against yours to ease the twitching in his cock that he refuses to admit is there. "gotta make up for lost time... yeah, i know this pussy missed me."

[‹ SAE ›] until you're the one begging for him to fail!

sae looks so unbothered and nonchalant when you tell him to participate. he mutters out a small 'fine' and continues on with his day. you certainly expect a more dramatic response, and you had no possible inkling as to how much the game was going to affect you rather than him until about a few weeks in. the ignorance of pleasure wracking within your body was too much to bear, and sae would just look the other way whenever you tried to plead him to help you. "no," he'll respond in a deadpan. "i'm just going along with what you told me... i'm sure you can keep your hands to yourself, can't you?" but it's when you beg with glimmering tears in your eyes that he finally caves in. "can't even do it by yourself, hm?" sae murmurs as he slips the head of his cock inside your beyond-needy pussy. "need me to touch you, don't you? tell me... lemme hear how much you need me to make you cum."

[‹ KAISER ›] the entire month just to get you desperate!

kaiser laughs out loud at the proposition, and the sound of it alone lets you know you're in for it. he'll mutter something about how he's 'not sure you'll survive', and considering how stubborn he can be - it might just be a possibility. he'll tease you over the month with the tantalizing sight of him shirtless and sprawled on the couch, or he'll kiss you slowly enough for your head to spin and desperation to seep into your mind. but no matter what sort of tricks you try to pull, kaiser just won't give in. just the idea of your teary eyes begging for him to finally fuck you at the end of the month is enough to keep him satiated for weeks. by the time the month is up, you're practically a wreck of pent-up emotions and filthy thoughts and kaiser knows it. "kinda backfired, didn't it?" kaiser chuckles out the words against your lips, fingers hooking around your panties and slipping them off of your legs. "who's the desperate one now, hm? gonna cry for me? c'mon, lemme hear you beg just a little more."

2022 SAETOSHIS.

tagging: @donvampiro @xiaroo @boyfrwenz @aveegrex @simp-lauren @b-achiras @youronlygirl-riri @enishis @garoujo @tinyreo

[enchantedrose]

Charlie Gillespie ~ Sex Tape

warning: sexual content. if you’re not comfortable with that, please don’t read. also, this man is so fine toooooo.

————————————————————————

Y/n: “I’ll see you later!” I yell to my best friend Sarah as she drops me back off at my house from work. As i get to my front door, i unlock it and open the door, shutting it behind me. Charlie already told me it was gonna be a late night so i already know he’s not home right now. I go upstairs to our bedroom and change clothes into a pair of shorts and one of Charlie’s shirts before sitting on our bed and getting my phone out. Conveniently enough, as I get it out, my phone rings and i see that Charlie is calling me. I smile before answering the call. “Hey Char.”

Charlie: “Hey baby.” He says on the other end.

Y/n: “What’s up?”

Charlie: “Nothing. I just wanted to hear your voice for a few minutes.” He says making me smile again.

Y/n: “Are you coming home?”

Charlie: “No.” He says before sighing a little. “I’m on a small break right now. I have one more small thing to do after and then I’ll be on my way home. Are you home yet?”

Y/n: “Yeah. I just got home a few minutes ago. Do i need to make you any dinner?”

Charlie: “No. Don’t worry about it love. They have food for us over here. Feel free to make yourself something if you’d like though.” It’s then silence for a few moments before he speaks again. “I love you.”

Y/n: “I love you too baby.”

Charlie: “I gotta go love. I’ll see you later.”

Y/n: “Yeah. Bye Char.”

Charlie: “Bye baby.” He says before we end the call and i look at my lock screen. The one of the both of us. I smile to myself again before opening my phone and laying down a little. I start scrolling on Instagram and checking stories for a few minutes as I see that Owen posted one. I open his story and see Charlie playing around a few hours ago. I smile again watching Charlie being weird and laughing before going back to checking my insta notifications. When i finish checking those, i go to TikTok and watch some of those. I was scrolling for a few minutes when I found a hot edit of Charlie. As i watch it, i can feel myself getting wet. Without realizing, my hand goes down to my cunt and i start rubbing myself slowly. After a few minutes, i set my phone down next to me and continue rubbing myself over my shorts as i moan out thinking of Charlie. “What are you doing?” I hear a voice ask with a small chuckle. I pop open my eyes and see Charlie leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed watching me.

Y/n: “Charlie…” i say moving my hand away quickly.

Charlie: “Ah.” He says stopping me. “Hand back. Now.” He says walking over to me slowly. I then hesitantly put my hand back on my clit as Charlie stands next to me.

Y/n: “I d-didn’t know you were home…” i say as my heartbeat speeds up a little.

Charlie: “Clearly.” He says chuckling a little. I rub myself a little over my shorts again as i moan out again. I barely see Charlie slightly lean against the wall as he watches me.

Y/n: “C-Char…”

Charlie: “Stop love.” He says making me stop my movements whining a little. “Don’t worry love. You’ll get to. I just want to make you do it myself.” He says coming close to me and kissing me, one of his hands on the back of my neck. We make out for a few minutes before he pulls apart and looks at me. “I have an idea.” He says before pecking my lips again and walking over to our dresser at the foot of the bed. I see him take his phone out and go to camera before setting it down.

Y/n: “What are you doing?” I ask him, my heart racing.

Charlie: “You’ll see love.” He says smirking a little as he presses the record button before walking back over to me. “Move over a little love.” He says making me move over a little and he sits where i was laying. He stretches his legs out a little and pats the space in between. I then move to where im sitting in between his legs. He then moves his lips close to my ears before whispering in them. “Show me what you were doing before I showed up.” I look at him in shock before turning my face away from him and hesitantly moving my hand over my clit. I rub it over my shorts again as i feel him slightly stretch my legs out a little more. I see him watching it from the camera and i feel his hand on my thigh slightly caressing it. “You can stop love.” He says making me move my hand away. I lean my back against his chest as i feel his left hand go around my stomach. “Can i touch you love?” He asks making me look at him. I then nod quickly.

Y/n: “Please Char…” i say making him chuckle a little. He moves his right hand slowly down to my clit slowly rubbing me over my shorts for a moment before bringing both of his hands up to my boobs and cups them over my shirt. He then moves to take off my shirt, well his shirt, and throws it somewhere in the room before playing with my boobs. As he kneads them, he kisses my neck and shoulder blades making me moan out from the pleasure. “Char… please…” I say making him chuckle a little against my skin as he moves his right hand over my shorts again. He just rests his hand over my clit before speaking again.

Charlie: “I want you to look into the camera and watch me rub you baby.” He says whispering in my ear before rubbing my clit over my shorts. As I watch Charlie in the camera, I moan out from the pleasure and I can feel myself getting wetter again. After a minute, Charlie stops before speaking again. “Take your shorts off baby. I want to feel your panties.” He says, his voice husky. I comply and lift my hips a little to slide my shorts down my legs before throwing them in the room somewhere. “Good girl.” He says before moving his hand to rub my clit again. “Fuck. You’re so wet love.” He says his left arm wrapping around my waist again. After a few minutes, Charlie can sense I’m getting close so he moves his hand away.

Y/n: “C-Charlie…” I say breathing heavily.

Charlie: “What is it love?”

Y/n: “F-fuck me… with a vibrator… please…” I say making him chuckle a little before giving a small kiss to my shoulder blade.

Charlie: “If that’s what you want love.” He says slightly sucking and kissing on my shoulder blade. “What do you want? A dildo? A bullet?”

Y/n: “A wand…” I say moaning in pleasure from his kisses.

Charlie: “Okay. If that’s what you want baby. You’ll get it.” He says giving one final kiss to my shoulder before reaching over to the bedside table and grabbing one of the vibrating wands. “Ready love?” He asks making me nod and I see him grin in the camera before turning on the vibrator and softly sticking it on my clit above my panties making me moan out.

Y/n: “Oh fuck Charlie!” I moan out as I feel the vibrations. I grip onto Charlie as I buck my hips against the vibrator.

Charlie: “That’s it love.” He says groaning out. As I can feel my high coming again, I speak again.

Y/n: “Charlie, stop for a minute.” I say breathing heavily. Charlie takes the vibrator off of me and looks at me worriedly.

Charlie: “Everything okay baby?” He asks making me nod a little. I lift up my hips to take my panties off as I slide them down my legs before throwing them somewhere in the room and getting comfortable again.

Y/n: “Okay… You can keep going.” I say smiling to him making him smile back. He then pecks my lips before moving the vibrator back over my clit, just this time, directly on it as my clit is fully exposed to the camera. “Fuck!” I yell from the vibrations. I feel Charlie move the vibrator in little circles making me writhe a little.

Charlie: “That’s it love.” He says softly caressing my stomach with his left thumb while his right hand is busy with the toy.

Y/n: “Charlie-“

Charlie: “I know baby. Let go.” He says giving a gentle kiss to my shoulder as he roughly puts the vibrator against my clit to help me cum. I scream out Charlie’s name as I come undone for the first time tonight and he leaves the toy running for a little longer before turning it off and setting it aside.

Y/n: “C-Charlie… finger me…” I say breathless.

Charlie: “You’re needy tonight aren’t you?” He asks chuckling a little before putting his fingers back on my clit like he did earlier. He starts rubbing his fingers against my clit for a moment before pumping a few fingers in.

Y/n: “Oh god Char…” Even with his arm around my waist, I’m still grabbing to try to steady myself.

Charlie: “You like that baby?” He asks as his fingers pump inside me. I moan out a quick yes as I lean my back against his chest and lean my head on his shoulder.

Y/n: “Char… I’m close…”

Charlie: “I know baby. I got you.” He whispers to me as he continues pumping his fingers. After a few pumps, I come all over his fingers and he moves them not long after and brings them up to my mouth. I open my mouth and suck his fingers, sucking up my cum. When he brings his fingers out, he speaks again. “God you’re hot.” He says catching me off guard making me look at him shocked.

Y/n: “W-what?” I ask him shocked. We’ve been dating for a while and had sex before of course but he’s never told me I was hot.

Charlie: “I mean it love. You’re so fucking hot it’s unbelievable.” He says smiling to me making my smile fade just a little as I slightly look away a little. It’s then silence for a moment before he speaks again. “You… think I’m lying to you, don’t you?”

Y/n: “It’s not that I think you’re lying it’s just… unexpected I guess… I’ve never thought of myself that way…” I say before I feel Charlie softly caress my hip with his thumb.

Charlie: “You should love. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Inside and out.” He says before moving my face so I look at him again. “I just want you to see yourself the way I see you.” He says softly before cupping my face a little. “You’re perfect.” He says sincerely looking into my eyes.

Y/n: “You think so?” I ask my voice barely above a whisper.

Charlie: “I know so.” He says before pecking my lips a little again before we start making out a little again. As we make out, Charlie speaks again. “I want to show you just how amazing you are…” He says before kissing me again. “Just how hot you really are.” He says pushing my back flat against the mattress slowly as he kisses me. He caresses my hips as he softly moves his kisses down. He kisses my cheek, my jaw, my neck, all the way down to my chest making me moan out a little. “My babygirl.” He says kissing my chest. “So naked under me. So pretty.” He says kissing my chest again. “So hot.” He says before sucking on my chest a little, definitely gonna leave a hickey, as I moan out again.

Y/n: “Charlieee…” I say making him chuckle a little, making me feel the vibrations against my skin. Then, I feel his right hand’s fingers against my clit making me gasp a little.

Charlie: “Oh god you’re so wet again.” He says groaning a little before rubs me and fingers me a little as he nips at my neck.

Y/n: “Charlie…” I gasp out as he puts a little pressure to my clit as he starts kissing down to my boobs again.

Charlie: “So fucking sexy.” He says sucking on my boobs a little. I wrap my arms around his back as he pleasures me, occasionally messing with his hair. He moves his hand away from my clit and back to my waist, caressing it as he kisses my boobs. “So beautiful.” After a minute, Charlie gets off of me and sits up a little as he takes off his shirt and throws it somewhere in the room. He then goes back to kissing me again as I wrap my arms around his neck. “I am so glad the camera is catching all of this.” He says in between kisses.

Y/n: “I forgot all about it.” I say before moaning again.

Charlie: “You want the feeling of a vibrator against you again?” He asks me as he’s kissing me. I quickly nod my head yes as Charlie reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a purple silicone vibrator. He turns it on and sticks it against my clit before pushing it in. He kisses me again as he pumps the vibrator in and out. “God I love you.” He says in between kisses.

Y/n: “I love you too Char.” I say breathlessly as he continues pumping the vibrator. “G- Fuck!” I moan out throwing my head back. After a few more pumps, I can feel it coming. “Char-“

Charlie: “Cum baby.” He says before I come undone and he pumps a few more times to ride out my high before pulling the vibrator out and setting it aside. Once he gets it set down, he puts his mouth over my clit and licks it a few times to get some of the cum before lifting his head up and standing up. I watch him as he undoes the button and zipper on his jeans before sliding both his jeans and boxers down. “Think you can cum for me one more time?” He asks getting back on the bed.

Y/n: “Yeah.” I say smiling as I still try to catch my breath. I then see Charlie smile again before speaking again.

Charlie: “Good.” He says hovering over me. He then kisses me for another moment before he speaks again. “I want you to watch the camera as I fuck you love. I want you to see just how hot and beautiful you are.” He says before he goes to my sweet spot on my neck and sucks on it as he pushes his dick in me. I watch the camera as Charlie thrusts in and out and sucks on my neck. I turn my head back to Charlie above me and watch him, admiring him. He thrusts a few more times before moving his head to look at me and smiles as he thrusts. He turns his head to look at the camera before speaking again. “Look how hot we are together love.” He says turning to look at me again to motion me to look back at the camera. I chuckle a little watching it before I cup his cheek with my right hand and speak.

Y/n: “I love you Char.”

Charlie: “I love you too babe.” He says and we kiss again, and, without warning, I break again and not long after, Charlie does too before pulling out and laying next to me. We lay there catching our breaths for a moment before I hear Charlie. “Best. Night. Ever.” He says making me chuckle again as I move to lay my head on his chest. “Oh I can’t wait to watch that when I’m away from you again.”

Y/n: “You’re such a goofball Charlie.” I say chuckling.

[dreamsclock]

I love the name when pigs fly it’s genius—

THANK U ^_^ have a fun little snippet from it !!!

when pigs fly au — ch1

It’s day twenty four in the prison when Techno slips through time.

Okay, granted, he actually has no clue what day it is, twenty-something is more of a guess, because he’s fallen asleep, like, twenty four times, and Dream looks minutely comforted when Techno says “twenty four days” to him in a strong assertive voice, but if he’s being really honest, he has no idea how long he’s been stuck in prison.

He’d like to say the twenty fourth day was discernable from the twenty three others that had passed before (again, time is relative), but he’d be lying. Time in prison is hazy and dull; each day blends into the one before it and the one after it, leaving him feeling disappointingly dissatisfied before bed every night. Dream doesn’t seem to find this too hard to bear, finding something new to do every day, though admittedly, Techno thinks he’d rather be driven mad than go to the lengths Dream is going to. Or maybe being mad is why Dream goes to such lengths — he loses track of how much times Dream has thrown himself in lava, loses track of how many times he’s yanked his (friend?) (rival?) (cellmate?) (telly-tubby?) from the flames before they consumed him entirely.

“Dude,” he complains, shoving a burning Dream towards the water pot in the corner, “you’ve gotta find better coping mechanisms, man, this is really pitiful at this point. I don’t even have any witty comments any more. I’m just concerned.”

Dream, for the most part, looks chill. “You could’ve let me burn.”

“And then watch you respawn in the corner and giggle to yourself and mumble to yourself and wonder if you’ve been driven mad this time?” Techno arches an eyebrow, fans out a flame on Dream’s shoulder. “Nah, I’m good. That would be kind of a lame, bad-friend move.”

Behind the mask, he can see the harsh, gaunt edges of Dream’s face soften. “Friend,” he repeats, “huh.”

Techno makes a mental note to make sure Dream gets better friends when they’re both out of here.

…When. More and more, it’s beginning to feel like an impossible dream, no pun intended. Chat are faint in his head on good days, completely gone on the bad days (and there are a lot of bad days), and Techno is worried, with each hour that ticks by, that their chances of getting out of here alive are dwindling.

He and Dream both have one life. The people keeping them here have two and three.

The odds, he admits, aren’t exactly in their favour.

He lets go of Dream, slouching back into the same spot as before, and watches Dream pick up a book from the chest with slightly charred burned fingers.

“Hey,” Dream breaks the silence after a bit, clearing his throat, “what— okay, so, if there was— What would you do if there was a genie who could grant you any wish?”

Techno blinks. “Heh?”

“I mean, like—” The younger shrugs offhandedly, shoulders hunched as he stares down at his book. “If you could tell — I dunno, genie, magic guy, wizard, whatever — If you could say one wish, and it would come true, what would you wish for?”

It’s a good question. Definitely one of the better ones Dream has asked. Over the course of their weeks in the cell, the other has been getting creative: his first questions started off lame, like what’s your favourite colour? and what’s your favourite weapon to train with? and if you were being tortured daily by someone with little to no hope of escaping, all over a book that you can’t ever reveal the contents of, and you were terrified of one day revealing its secrets because you’ve grown weak enough to want to die over wanting to live, what would you do?

(“…Uh, hope for Technoblade to drop by,” Techno had answered at the time, after registering the question, “wait for a Technoblade to cheer me up with his witty commentary. That sure would make the torture bearable.”)

(Dream had laughed for the first time then: an unpleasant, hoarse, bark, but a laugh nonetheless. “Wait for a Technoblade?” He repeats.)

(Techno had shrugged. “I’m no Theseus, but you’re not exactly Pandora,” he’d told him, “no rule about having to stay in here yourself, right?”)

So yeah, he definitely prefers the genie question. Furrowing his brow and tilting his head back so it touched the rough obsidian wall, Techno considers his answer.

“Ask for a bell,” he deadpans, and smirks at Dream’s snort, “nah, but seriously? I’d probably ask to get out of—”

Another answer strikes him, one more fantastical, a daydream, childish, more than anything else.

He pauses.

“…Probably go back in time.”

Dream’s attention swivels to him, slowly. “What?”

“Dunno. Would be pretty neat.” Keeping his voice neutral, Techno offers Dream a wry grin. “I mean, ignoring the whole butterfly-effect thing, but I think I could be careful enough. I dunno, I think… maybe I could stop certain things from happenin’. Stop certain people from… becomin’ who they are now.”

Sam. Quackity. Wilbur. Tommy. Techno meets his new friend’s eyes behind the mask. Dream. He could change so much with the knowledge he has now — of course, he doesn’t think he’d ever actually want to go back in time, but hey, he thinks he could change a couple of crucial things.

Just as he thinks that, the whole universe tilts on its side. For a moment, Techno thinks god has struck him down for his insolence.

And then he hears it: a laugh, echoing in a thousand voices.

Time travel, huh? The protector of the End portal muses, and Techno imagines millions of rows of tiny sharp teeth baring in a smile at him. Never heard that one before. He laughs like he knows something Techno doesn’t. Alright. I’ll grant your wish, just this once. So sue me: I’m curious.

“Oh, wait,” Techno says into the darkness, “I was kidding.”

Too late. The world explodes into shards of different colours. He feels like he’s falling through static, every particle of his being glitching and sliding and spilling over timelines, months, events. So much whizzes by him — Doomsday, the Butcher Army, the Sixteenth, joining Pogtopia—

He goes instinctively to draw back. He remembers that all too well.

And because the universe hates him, Techno finds himself falling forwards, not back, and resurfaces — literally — in a puddle in Pogtopia, coughing and blinking water out of his eyes.

“Bruh,” he manages to cough out, absolutely horrified, “you can’t be serious right now. You cannot be serious right now.”

Oh, absolutely I’m serious, a smug voice in his head seems to say, have fun.

And before Techno can even begin to process the fact there’s a god with a petty vendetta against him (he’s supposed to be an atheist), the voice disappears, and leaves him stranded in the frozen ravine of Pogtopia…

…Six months in the past.

Because that’s just his luck. He’s stuck, confused, stressed, and pretty unpleasantly cold, in Pogtopia, which smells exactly like he remembers and is startlingly innocent: before wars, before betrayal, before the sixteenth and everything going wrong. If he has anybody looking out for him up above (which he highly doubts), he might be able to fix things.

…Or not. Because he’s Technoblade, and he’s on the Dream SMP, and things never ever work out the way he wants.

The sound of a screeching child trampling towards him does absolutely nothing to assuage his new fears.

[amphxtrite]

pietro maximoff x fem! reader

warnings: being picked up, tooth-rotting fluff (literally)

summary: pietro goes on his first camping trip.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: thank you to @sweetandsunny for the writing prompts that helped me write this!! ly sunny <3

translations: printsessa- princess, krasivaya- beautiful, milashka- cutie, dorogoy- darling.

———————————————————————————

“Finally Friday.” You yawn to yourself as you collapse onto your bed, after a long week of helping out the team and training, it was time to kick back, relax and-

“Hello Printsessa!”

Oh right, you smirk to yourself, peaking one eye open to see your speedster boyfriend standing at your doorway, a giddy smile on his face.

“Hey Piet.” You murmur, allowing yourself a small smirk as his eyes bounce back and forth from the spot in bed beside you and your eyes, subtly asking for permission.

“Oh alright, come here.” You giggle, opening your arms and immediately feeling Pietro’s body next to your and his arms around your torso.

A content sigh leaves his lips.

“Dorogoy, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He murmurs, closing his eyes and snuggling himself closer to your chest.

You smile to yourself and press a peck to Pietro’s blonde hair as fatigue takes over your form.

Now it was time to-

“Okay! If the clothes are off, put them back on, if the lips are locked, unlock them because dad’s here!” A voice suddenly yells, catching both you and Pietro off guard.

You yelp, and sit up suddenly to see your father covering his eyes and standing by the door he just kicked open.

“Ugh, open your eyes dad, we aren’t doing anything.” You groan, falling back down.

“Yes Clint, we were only sleeping!” Pietro chimes, suddenly across the room from you.

“Well it doesn’t matter, get your bag kid, we're going camping!” Clint cheers, throwing his fists in the air.

“And speedy can come too, why not.” Clint shrugs, causing Pietro’s eyes to widen. “I-I don’t want to intrude-”

“Dad, it’s Friday, we’ve been working all week, can’t we go another time?” You plead, finally sitting up.

“Sorry kiddo, but it’s Barton weekend number one, and your siblings and you agreed you would get the first weekend.” The archer smirks, looking at his daughter.

You glance at your calendar and sure enough the yearly event posted on the date was ‘weekend with dad.’

The little voice in your head cheers sarcastically.

“Fine, I’ll get packed.” You murmur, standing and grabbing your overnight bag from the floor.

“That’s the spirit!” Clint whoops.

“I should probably-”

Clint’s smile drops.

“Not so fast blondie, get your bags packed, you’re going.” Your father says sternly, patting the Avenger on the back on his way out of the room.

“You better listen, last time I told him no he didn’t make me waffles for six months.” You shudder.

Pietro’s jaw drops, “not the waffles.”

A blue blue went out and back into your room as Pietro returns with a bag slung over his shoulder and wearing clothes a little more suited for the wilderness.

You laugh and shake your head.

“Mind helping me Pietro?” You suggest.

“Of course, milashka.” He grins, pecking you on the forehead as he begins helping you, at a normal pace.

“So tell me again where we’re going, dad.” You question, readjusting your bag straps again as you walk further into the dense forest in front of you.

“A new spot I found while hiking the other day, great place to see the stars…” Your father responds, almost nervously.

“Oh no, I know that voice.” You groan, rolling your eyes as Pietro looks at you confused.

“What is it?” Sokovian asks.

“We’re lost.” You respond plainly, popping the ‘t.’

“We are not lost.” Clint sighs, moving his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“He brought us out here to die.” You shrug sarcastically.

“You brought us here to die?!” Pietro squeaks, misunderstanding the joke.

“Well, obviously.” Your dad jokes back, not knowing about Pietro’s state.

The platinum blonde man begins murmuring a silent prayer as you and your father continue to banter.

“Let future campers see us as a warning to halt before considering being active.” You sigh dramatically.

“Yes, and may they tell stories of us around the campfires and how great we were.” Clint continues.

Pietro’s brows were furrowed now, very confused by what was going on.

“I cannot tell if you two are being sarcastic or if we are really lost.” He mutters.

You look back over at your boyfriend and the look on his face was priceless, you begin bursting into a fit of laughter, your dad following shortly behind after he catches a glimpse of the mix of concern, fear and confusion slapped onto Pietro’s face

“O-Oh my gosh.” You laugh, placing your hand on Pietro’s arm. “You poor thing, you thought we were serious?” You coo, moving your hands up to Pietro’s cheeks as if he were the most innocent being alive. “Oh you’re adorable.”

“It’s a tradition for the kids, I gotta keep them on their toes.” Clint winks, patting Pietro on the back. “I almost had you this year.” The older Avenger sighs, placing his hand on your head and rustling your hair around.

“In your dreams old man, I saw it a mile away.” You smirk, rolling your eyes and joining your fingers with Pietro’s.

“Okay, okay. The site’s this way, come on.” Your father says, pointing in the direction you could hear rushing water from.

You nod and pull your boyfriend along beside you.

“You’ll get used to it Piet, my sibling’s and I were fooled every year until we started seeing the pattern.” You sigh, reminiscing in your memories of being scared to death as a kid.

“I can see why.” Pietro mutters, still slightly baffled at what had just happened.

Your lips pull even further up into a wide smile and you squeeze Pietro’s hand reassuringly.

“I’ll make sure dad doesn’t do that again, now hurry up, the sun’s setting and we haven’t even pitched our tent.” You laugh, pulling Pietro into a jog and catching up with your dad.

“That’ll do it.” Clint chuckles, stepping back and admiring his tent.

“Mines up too, dad!” You call, unzipping your tent and throwing your sleeping bag inside.

“How about you Pietro, how’s it-”

“Um, a little help?” A weak voice chimes from nearby.

You and your father turn around to see a mess of a tent behind you, beams sticking all over the place and a flustered Pietro standing in front of it, covering whatever he could.

“I-I’ve never been camping, I have only ever seen it on television.” He confesses, crossing his arms.

“Awe Pietro!” You coo, walking over to the pouting Sokovian and wrapping your arms around him.

“Here, hold this part up- Dad, you wanna get in on this?” You laugh.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Clint chuckles, jogging over and holding up the other half of Pietro’s tent as you begin feeding the thin pole through the thin material, with all three of you, the tent went up quickly and as you stood back to admire your work Pietro giddily runs up and scoops you into his arms.

“You are amazing, krasivaya! absolutely amazing!” He beams, spinning you in circles.

“Hey Piet! I’m getting dizzy!” You giggle, holding onto his shoulders and silently praying he’d never put you down.

“Alright you two, stop it before I throw up.” Your father sighs, rolling his eyes and throwing a marshmallow, managing to nail it right on your forehead.

To your dismay, Pietro places you back on the ground and takes your hand as he walks over to the small fire Clint had gotten started.

You sit on one of the chairs set up and accept a small stick and a marshmallow from your dad.

You smirk and stab the fluffy white treat onto the end of your twig and place it above the fire.

Pietro follows your lead and loses focus as the flames seem to swallow his marshmallow whole.

You skillfully pull your marshmallow out as it turns a perfect golden brown, but Pietro isn’t so lucky.

He lifts his stick from the fire to find a small bonfire on the end, and his marshmallow begins to burn.

“Oh- Pietro blow it out!” You rush.

“Right.” He squeals, taking a deep breath and ridding of the fire, leaving him with a charred blob.

“Aw it’s okay Pietro, you can just-.”

The blonde doesn’t let you finish and instead places the whole marshmallow into his mouth.

“-throw it into the fire…”

Pietro’s face contorts from neutral, to disgust, to glee in seconds. His eyebrows raise in surprise and his feet tap happily.

“It’s delicious! a little bitter at first but the rest is perfect!” Pietro muses, quickly snagging the bag of soft treats from your dad’s lap and sticking a bunch onto the end of his stick.

You smile at Pietro’s childlike glee and place your own marshmallow into your mouth, savouring the sweet crust and melts inside in your mouth as your boyfriend ate his like a sweet, sticky kebab.

The sky turns dark and you teach Pietro to make the perfect marshmallow, tell him scary stories and make shadow puppets with the fire’s light just like your dad would do with you when you were young. Clint had grown tired of your couple's antics quickly and retired to his tent earlier, leaving you and Pietro alone.

“Piet, you’ve still got bits of marshmallow on your face.” You laugh, wiping the remnants of sticky sugar out of his goatee and off his nose. Pietro looks down at you lovingly and notices a tiny bit of marshmallow on your bottom lip, without hesitation, his fingers move to your chin and he tilts your head up to let your eyes meet.

Leaning down, your lips meet in a sweet kiss. The taste of marshmallow and charcoal bring smiles to both of your faces as Pietro deepens the kiss. The fire crackles quietly beside you as Pietro’s hands move to your back to pull you closer. Your fingers find their way into his soft hair, tugging ever so gently.

You both part for breath, resting your foreheads together as you catch your breaths.

“You had some marshmallow on your lip, dorogoy.” Pietro smiles sheepishly.

“You don’t say?” You giggle, pressing kisses onto the edges of Pietro’s mouth.

There’s a moment of silence as the two of you bask in each other’s warmth, Pietro’s hands sliding up and down your arms and your fingers tangling themselves in his wavy locks.

“Thank you Printsessa, this has been one of the best nights of my life.” Pietro sighs with a grin.

“One of them?” You joke, leaning into your boyfriend’s chest.

“Oh tsvesti, do you think I’ll ever forget the night we first met? Or our first kiss?” Pietro fires back playfully, wrapping his arms around your tightly and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay, you got me Pie.” You sigh, cuddling closer into him.

“I know, zefir.” Pietro smirks.

“Wait, what does that one mean?” You ask, smiling at the new nickname.

“It means marshmallow, Printsessa. I think it’s very fitting for you.” He smiles, evidently very proud of himself.

You laugh lightly and nod.

“It’s perfect.”

[luvcherry]

chatroom [9] ◇

Natasha Romanoff x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 4.1k.

Part Eight || Part Ten

Chatroom Masterlist

Summary: Y/n and Natasha continue their trip and enjoy each other’s company alone.

Content: age gap, some angst, fluff, smut (18+ only, MINORS DNI), semi-public sex, fingering, tribing.

A/N: One more chapter left of Chatroom! This one is pretty lighthearted to prepare for the calm before the storm 🤓

Natasha told her that burnt toast is the best way to eat. Y/n thought they were too charred to even eat but her girlfriend convinced her otherwise. She giggled while she explained how browner the perfect toast is with such conviction. It felt silly but Natasha talked so passionately about it as if someone had told her all her life she was wrong about her opinion on bread.

And Y/n realizes what she likes most about Natasha. It was silly to see the admirable trait of being passionate come through when she’s talking about bread, but Y/n is certain that she could talk about paint drying on a wall and she’d look at her with stars in her eyes. She has a passion that Y/n has never witnessed herself — a lust for life if you will. The people around her are exploring life, but there is just something so attractive about a person who has it together while not being solely tied down to their career every waking moment. It seems more meaningful than the trap of college life where you’re trying to party hard yet come out of college unscathed. Natasha has direction in her life, something that feels hard to grasp in the throes of college and preparing yourself for life beyond while in a totally new environment.

Y/n would like to feel like she has her life together someday. She never worried or thought about that until she met Natasha. Her main concern prior to this relationship was finding herself and being able to open — she feels like she has been able to do that with this relationship. However, she’s still in college where her life feels a little bit jumbled.

She is aware that right now she fits into Natasha's life as much as a square peg fits into a round hole, but she hopes that doesn’t deter her from wanting to be with her. Aspects of their lives and personality make them incompatible, but there are so many great things that keep them bonded together. If both of them can just hold on for a little longer then things will fall into place.

“What do you want to do today?”

Natasha's voice cuts through her thoughts and Y/n had no clue she was just staring at her as she sat across from her. She tries to play it off, hoping that she hadn’t been caught. She just looks so good in her morning attire with the scratchy voice to match.

“I don’t know…what do you have planned for us?”

“Well we could go down to the river nearby. It’s not warm enough for a swim,  but it’s still beautiful down there. Or we could go hiking. Either one sounds fine to me.”

“I wanna go hiking! I’ve never been to the dunes but Amy told me that they’re so beautiful and I gotta see it.”

“Then we’ll do that,” she tilts her head to see the clock on the stove that reads ‘11:23’, “we can head out at 1. That’ll give us plenty of time to get ready.”

Natasha gets up and walks over to Y/n’s side of the table and kisses the top of her head. In front of her was a plate of the simple breakfast she made for them. There wasn’t much to work with in the house. Natasha appreciated the effort. It was a new experience for her to wake up to noises coming from the kitchen and the smell of food in the air. It felt oddly domestic which was both comforting and frightening for her.

After last night, Natasha decided that she wasn’t going to bring up her feelings or acknowledge them for the entire trip. Y/n deserves the peace of knowing that her girlfriend does indeed like her. She feels guilty about the birthday fiasco, but Y/n acts like everything is fine so she decides it’s not worth bringing up on the trip. Y/n only acts like there isn’t an obvious problem because she’s clueless about how relationships work. Sometimes Natasha wants to be blunt with her. Y/n should be mad at her, she should want to stick up for herself and call her out. Every second that passes where she doesn’t do that Natasha feels like pushing her to do so, but she feels like that would do more harm than good. There is just no gentle way to confront reality and it sucks. She wishes she would have never been selfish in the beginning.

Natasha has to force herself to quit from thinking about exactly what she told herself to avoid. She doesn’t want to ruin this trip because of pessimism. Instead she turns her focus to packing for their hike. It’s not a hot day, but she wants to be prepared. It’s Y/n’s first time visiting the dunes and she doesn’t want it to be a bad experience. She contemplates packing one of the toys her eyes gloss over. She has a few that she hasn’t used on Y/n just yet and she’s excited to explore during this trip. However she decides not to pack one of their toys for now. She can’t promise herself  that the outing will be completely innocuous, but she’s already equipped with what she needs to get her girlfriend off. The dunes are nearby and she can’t wait for Y/n to see them. She’s sure that she’ll love it and she hopes it can give them the much needed peace deserved after the last two weeks.

-

“How close are we?”

“Less than a mile baby.”

Y/n wanted to groan but she feels like she's complained enough already.

The forecast had lied to them and it was warmer than expected. Y/n was wearing a sweater, the one with Natasha’s alma mater on it, when they first began their journey on one of the dune trails. Now it’s tired around her waist and she’s in a sports bra. It’s a little bit too small for her and it’s very noticeable. She only wore it because she didn’t think she’d have to take her sweater off. Natasha felt childish for ogling her tits, but Y/n is her girlfriend after all and she just can’t help but to stare at what’s hers.

They’ve been walking for a good 30 minutes. Y/n was growing exhausted, but Natasha wanted to show her something. She promised her that the work it takes to make it to their destination will pay off and Y/n hopes it’s true. They pass by multiple mile markers and Y/n counts down until they finally reach the next full mile. The trail breaks off into two separate ones. Y/n is about to walk down the one on the left before Natasha stops her.

“Here.”

Natasha grabs Y/n’s hand and leads her to the trail on the right. Y/n is a bit worried that a lot more walking is ahead of them, but she sees that the trail has reached a dead end. It’s not really a scenic area so Y/n is sort of confused as to why Natasha really wanted them to come to this spot.

“We can take some time to rest here. I doubt anyone will stumble upon us — plus we get this view.”

Natasha points to the vast opening where they can see the Earth stretch out for miles and miles. They can see the other trails and so much more. Y/n has never considered herself an outdoorsy person but Natasha didn’t lie when she said this would be perfect.

After just staring at the landscape beyond her for a few minutes, she turns to Natasha and sees that she has set up a blanket on the ground for them to sit on.

“Come sit with me,” she pats the space beside her.

Y/n happily walks over and sits down. She’s grateful for Natasha packing all the stuff she did or else this would be a much more miserable time. There is even more water than she has in her water bottle and a few snacks. Y/n’s hand is reaching for the grapes and she quickly opens up the baggy before popping a few in her mouth.

“So…how do you like the view?”

“It’s perfect,” Y/n says after swallowing what was left in her mouth, “how many times have you been here?”

“Countless times. I would always come with friends, or by myself, but never with someone I’ve dated.”

The revelation makes Y/n feel special. She doesn’t make a big deal of the comment but she keeps it stored away in her mind.

“I love the city, don’t get me wrong, but this is perfect. When I get old and retire someday I want to leave the city. I don’t know if I’ll necessarily move close out here or out of state, but I want to spend the last of my days out by nature.”

“Really? I guess I haven’t thought about that far out in my life.”

“If you live more than five years in the city, then you’d get what I’m saying.”

Y/n lived in the suburbs all of her life so city life was a foreign thing to her. All of her treks to see Natasha and going into the city made her feel oddly mature. Her parents told her cities are so dangerous and filled with rude people, but she’s never encountered any of that. The city was colorful and filled with so many different people. She found Natasha to be so lucky that she could step outside her apartment and have countless options for things to do on a day off. Y/n has been looking up schools in the city for that very reason. She almost considered transferring in the middle of her undergraduate years, but it’s just easier to wait until she graduates. She hasn’t said anything to Natasha about it because she’s unsure of how she’ll react. Would her close presence be unwanted? It’s hard to find the answer, especially after the last two weeks.

“I can tell when you’re thinking,” Natasha teases her. She leans back and props herself up on her elbows, “it’s written all over your face whenever you’re thinking too much.”

“Is it that obvious?” Y/n giggles as she lays down next to Natasha.

An arm wraps around her shoulder and draws her in closer. Everything feels perfect — almost like it did in the beginning. Y/n forgets about the problems of the last two week, in fact she thinks about any and all of the problems they’ve had. It all feels so small and asinine now. Y/n loves Natasha so much that she’s willing to look past the petty stuff. It’s finally set in that she’s in love with her girlfriend and now it’s time to move through life together. Y/n wants to know so much more about Natasha. She feels like she’s always talking about her life and her past, but barely knows about Natasha besides the small tidbits from casual conversation.

“Did you like doing this kind of stuff when you were a kid?” Y/n asks, breaking the silence.

“Sometimes. My parents would take me camping. It was one of the few times I felt like I was able to be a kid. I used to get made fun of by my classmates that I didn’t know how to skip rocks, but I learned how to on my very first camping trip. It’s so stupid, but stuff like that really makes you feel alienated when you’re a kid who doesn’t know better.”

Y/n could relate so much to Natasha’s upbringing so she wonders why she doesn’t open up about it much. It could be hard for her to do, but Y/n understands what she went through.

“That was me but with crayons. My parents wouldn’t give me the big 48 pack of crayons while everyone else had them. They thought it would make me ‘spoiled’ and turn into a brat. In hindsight it’s was such a small thing to be upset about but I was in 1st grade and it felt like the end of the world for me.”

“Most of it was small silly stuff, but that denial of small things snowballs into bigger things,” Natasha inhales deeply, “let’s change the subject. We’re out here and it’s so beautiful, let’s not ruin that.”

Y/n nods her head. She doesn’t believe that opening up is going to “ruin” their time out here, in fact she thinks it’ll bring them closer, but she doesn’t protest. Besides, she has no choice but to not talk about it when Natasha kisses her.

It was mostly to placate her. She doesn’t want Y/n to think she’s trying to shut her down, but now is just not the time to talk about those things. She feels Y/n melting underneath her and she feels like her mission has been accomplished.

“You’re so pretty,” Natasha says between kisses. Y/n hums into the kiss and arches her back to press her body closer to Natasha. Y/n hoped that this spot is as secluded as Natasha said because it would be embarrassing to be caught like this.

Natasha’s hands rested idly on her sides before she began to tug at her leggings. The action was making Y/n wet because she knows exactly what Natasha wants. She wants her too and the thrill of doing something so private out here makes her feel delirious with lust. Natasha places her head in her neck and begins to suck on her skin. Y/n sighs and whimpers when Natasha nips at the most sensitive parts of her skin.

A hand snakes between them and Natasha applies pressure to Y/n’s clit through her leggings. Those little gasps and sighs of pleasure are heavenly to her. She’s obsessed with getting Y/n off so much that it makes her impatient. She’s eagerly tugging at her leggings while still kissing her neck.

“Natasha,” Y/n whimpers. Everything was happening so fast and she couldn’t stop it. But she didn’t want it to stop. This is Natasha’s way of showing her love. It becomes increasingly obvious that it’s not easy for Natasha to open up, but she shows it physically and that’s enough for Y/n.

Natasha pulls away from her neck and sits up on her knees. She removes her own t-shirt to reveal her sports bra. She grabs Y/n's bra before Y/n is taking it off herself. The warm air hits her tits and instantly hardens her nipples. Y/n groans as she feels them pebbling. Natasha grabs the sweater around her waist and Y/n assumes she’s going to discard it somewhere but she instead places it over her head.

“I want you to wear it,” Natasha declares. Seeing Y/n in her clothes turns her on so much. It’s a little too warm to be wearing it, and their activities are going to heat her up even more, but Natasha is too selfish right now.

Y/n puts it on and it covers her up but it doesn't deter Natasha from reaching underneath her shirt and squeezing her tits. Y/n's sighs get a little bit louder, especially when Natasha's fingers swipe across her hard nipples.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

Y/n nods her head while biting down on her bottom lip.

Natasha gets Y/n's leggings off leaving her in just her underwear. Natasha is still partially clothed, but Y/n begins to tug at her sweat pants.

"You're just so eager," Natasha teases her for being hasty just like she is. It's all lighthearted because once Natasha gets Y/n's panties off she's not going to be able to control herself.

"I don't want to be the only one naked," Y/n says with a pout.

Natasha gives her what she wants and takes her sweatpants off, but she quickly turns the attention back to Y/n. She hooks her fingers in the elastic and pulls her underwear off. Now she's left in nothing but Natasha's college sweater. Her hair is a bit disheveled from their fumbling on the blanket. She looks so hot like this, but Natasha wants to make her look even more of a mess. She's possessive and likes to be reminded that she's the only one who does this to Y/n.

Y/n felt slightly vulnerable being exposed like this, but she feels safe with Natasha. Natasha grabs her hips and pulls her across the blanket. Y/n gasps at the sudden movement and those gasps turn to whimpers of pleasure when Natasha dips two fingers into her pussy.

"Oh my god," she whines.

She's reminded of what they did just the day before when Natasha pushes her fingers in deeper. Y/n is so wet, soaking every inch of her digits as she slowly pulls them in and out. Y/n is too embarrassed to look at herself getting finger fucked, but Natasha can't pull her eyes away. Her pussy is so deliciously warm and wet. Her slow pace is damn near tortuous but Natasha is having so much fun hearing Y/n whine and whimper like a bitch in heat.

"Your pussy is so tight. No matter how many times I stretch you out, your pussy is always wrapped so snugly around my fingers."

Y/n's body is heating up and it's not just because of the outside temperature. Natasha's fingers are somehow too much and not enough at the same time. She is constantly on a rollercoaster of emotions with Natasha's but the highs are so high.

"Natasha," Y/n whines again. It's like that's the only thing she can say because that is the only thing that matters.

The call of her name makes Natasha move her fingers in and out of her faster. She watches and hears the lewd sound of her fingers splashing in her wetness. Y/n's pussy is already creaming around her fingers and it really hasn't been that long. She just loves how responsive and needy Y/n gets.

As much as it's fun to turn her into an impatient mess, Natasha is becoming one herself. She pulls her finger out of Y/n's pussy and they're covered in her slick. She sits back so she can take her own pants off and her panties follow suit.

"W-What are you doing?"

This was something new for Y/n. Natasha straddled her and placed her legs around her legs to make them fit like a puzzle piece. She was rendered speechless when Natasha placed her pussy on top of hers. She was wet and sticky. Their arousals mix together as Natasha begins to swirl her hips so their clits can roll over each other. She grabs onto Y/n's leg tightly for leverage. Y/n has no clue what they're doing but it feels so good.

"Nothing feels better than your pussy on mine," Natasha confesses as her voice cracks. She feels like she's in heaven now. "So fucking wet for me."

Y/n was just laying there while Natasha did most of the work. She was so overwhelmed but Natasha was so much more composed than her. Y/n felt herself getting closer and closer every time Natasha moved her hips. She ground herself harder against Y/n's pussy, chasing her high as much as she was concerned with making Y/n cum.

"Pussy is so sweet baby," Natasha's voice is now whiny which matches Y/n's.

Her fast thrust makes Y/n's tits juggle underneath the sweater. Natasha nearly cums at the sight of those pretty tits jiggling under her sweater, her alma mater sewed proudly into the soft fabric. She's never felt so much pride in claiming someone as 'hers'. It's been a long time since she could say that. Flashes of regret hit her as she wishes she would have showed Y/n off at her birthday party. There are many things she could have done better, but Natasha can't fix it now. Sometimes it feels futile to do so.

"I'm gonna cum Natasha!"

Y/n's voice pulls her out of the daze. It was easy to get lost in contemplation when her hips were moving absentmindedly for her. But Y/n always somehow pulls Natasha into the reality where everything is fine. That clashes with the only reality that exists, but she can pretend until it becomes her reality because that's all she wants.

"Cum for me baby," Natasha leans down so her face was inches away from Y/n's face, but her pussy is still on Y/n's, grinding feverishly. "I want to feel you cum against me baby. You're so goddamn wet."

Y/n kisses Natasha with all the energy she has left in her. It's going to be so hard to trek back down that trail, but that's the bridge she'll cross when she gets to it. She's lost in the moment and the sweetness of her girlfriend's lips against hers. Their kiss is so soft and delicate compared to the rough and fast movements of their hips. Y/n cums first, moaning against Natasha's lips which sends a vibration throughout her body.

The feeling of Y/n's pussy gushing against hers triggers Natasha orgasms. She's the one who pulls away from the kiss so she can let out a strangled moan. She still grinds even as she grows sensitive. It's Y/n who is the one who stops them, her hands gripping Natasha's hips to bring her to a halt.

Natasha stops moving, but she rolls Y/n around so she's on top. Her lips are back on hers and she never wants them to part. She kisses her feverishly, her tongue sliding into her mouth. It's so lascivious that it makes the shy girl in Y/n all bashful. But the person on the outside is kissing back with so much passion. She's come such a long way and her being able to be comfortable with her sexuality is a big step for her.

They could go forever, and it almost seems like they're going to until a rock falls and makes both of them jump. Y/n yelps and Natasha looks in the direction of the fallen rock. When they realized it was just a rock and not a person, they relaxed. Y/n laughs at herself for getting all scared and yelping like that. Natasha joins her before she kisses her exposed collar bone.

"Was that good?" She asks against her skin.

"So good. It's always so good with you."

Hearing that makes Natasha's heart pump faster and she feels up with warmth. She's a grown woman but she feels like a teenager in love. It's scary that someone so young is able to make her feel like this.

That mere thought makes her become hesitant again. She pulls her lips away from Y/n's collarbone but she does it in a way that isn't sudden and won't worry Y/n. Her girlfriend has a big, satisfied smile on her face.

"I love being out here with you. I love this trip so far."

Y/n was fawning over the trip, and what they just did, but what she really wanted to say was that she loved Natasha. She just feels like it's too soon when considering their relationship. If they lived nearby and were able to function like a regular couple then she would have no problem saying it. It's been a little over a year of them being together, how could Y/n not love Natasha?

Natasha has strong feelings for Y/n too, but it takes her much more to say 'I love you'. She's only said it to one girlfriend and she truly meant it then. She still has love for that girlfriend, but she's not in love with her. She isn't in love with anyone, but Y/n brings her good feelings that she hasn't felt in a long time.

Her growing love for Y/n makes her believe that what Y/n wants is the opposite that she needs.

But, that is a problem for another day.

They're on a trip together, enjoying the beautiful view of the dunes and the surrounding nature. Nothing else matters. Whatever problems arise in the future will be addressed then. For now they just have each other and the silence that falls between them. That’s all they needed — a moment of stillness in the quiet chaos of their relationship.

[marjansmarwani]

It feels like an out of body experience

2k || ao3

“He was talking to both of us,” he repeated, aware that he sounded like a broken record. “Both me and Gabriel. He was going to take what was most important, from both of us.” --- Just a missing 2x12 scene of the moment after Owen realized TK and Carlos were in danger and what follows. Featuring an in-depth look at his guilt because why else do I ever write Owen Strand anymore?

This has been sitting mostly done on my google drive since May and I finally decided to finish it today, for some reason so I hope you’re all in the mood for some angsty Owen content. 

Beta’d by my loves @silvarafael and @justaswampdemon

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

“You thought he was talking to you?” Billy asked with a snort. “I thought he was talking to Reyes.” 

Judd let out a laugh beside him and Owen rolled his eyes, picking up his glass to take another sip of the whiskey. He rolled Billy’s words around in his head as he twirled the glass, watching as the whiskey sloshed around the sides. The thought came suddenly and hit him with all the force of a steam engine. 

“He was talking to both of us,” he said quietly, pulling Judd’s attention to him. He could see the other man frowning but he ignored him. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it sooner; he couldn’t believe it hadn’t been his first thought. 

“He was talking to both of us,” he repeated louder, now pulling the eyes of all the others to him as well. Tommy sat up straighter as she clocked the fear in his eyes. 

“What are you saying?” she asked evenly, using her steady, tempered captain’s voice that he had heard so often on patients in the field. 

“He was talking to both of us,” he repeated, aware that he sounded like a broken record. “Both me and Gabriel. He was going to take what was most important, from both of us.” 

His words hung in the air for a moment as they all processed and began to connect the dots. Owen set down his glass as they did, his hands were shaking too much to hold it. He was already reaching into his pocket for his phone when Judd’s expression cleared and he let out a curse as he figured out what Owen was implying, but he didn’t have the focus to see anything but the phone in his hands. 

Billy still hadn’t figured it out though so Owen spelled it out for him as the phone now clutched to his ear rang: “Our sons. He meant our sons, who live together. He meant TK and Carlos. He rigged their house to burn too.” 

There were horrified looks all around now but Owen couldn’t focus on them. The fear coursing through his veins was too all-consuming; there wasn’t room for anything else. 

The ringing stopped and for a split second, Owen thought that maybe, just maybe he was in luck, that TK had finally answered. But his voicemail answered instead at the tail end of the moment and Owen could feel some of the hope he had managed to cling to slip away. 

The others were watching him intently and he knew that the fear was written all over his face. Grace was the first to speak, breaking the tense silence. 

“You all need to go.” 

They all turned to her and Judd opened his mouth but she shook her head, “Those boys need you. With the 126 closed, there isn’t a house close enough to get to them in time. But you’re close here. I’ll call it in to dispatch, and pray a whole lot.” 

Owen nodded, already standing with Judd on his heels. The younger man paused for all of a moment, turning back to his wife who only shook her head. 

“TK and Carlos need you right now Judd, I’ll be fine. Just be careful, and call me when you’re done.”

Judd nodded and leaned forward to give her a quick kiss, “I love you, Gracie.” 

“I love you too, now go!” 

Owen didn’t need to be told twice. He was already halfway out the door before Grace even finished speaking. He jumped into his truck and was momentarily surprised when the passenger door swung open beside him. He turned, hand frozen over the ignition to see Billy climbing in beside him. The other man took a look at him and scoffed. 

“Well, what are you waiting for, New York? We’ve gotta go.” 

So Owen started the truck and sped away from the curb because Billy was right. TK was in danger and nothing else mattered. 

He pressed the speed limit the entire way from the Ryder’s house to the condo. It wasn’t far and Owen was making excellent time as it was, but that fact did nothing to quell the racing of his heart. He can’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before. What kind of father was he that when he was told that someone was going to take what was most important to him and he didn’t immediately think of his son? 

If they were too late and the worst did happen, how did he live with himself?

Billy had the scanner app running beside him, and the sound of his son’s address being relayed by dispatch sent an entirely different chill through him. It made it real, hearing the words outside of his own head. All the while his phone rang between them until TK’s voicemail picked up again and Owen swore. He took a breath and tried to let logic in. Maybe Raymond was just trying to scare them; rigging two places to burn might have taken more time than he had. Maybe they weren’t home, maybe they had decided to go out after everything that had happened today. Maybe they had been able to get out at the first signs — TK had been a firefighter, after all. He would have noticed, he would have known how to safely get them both out. He...

His conjecture broke off sharply as they finally reached their destination and Owen suddenly found that he couldn’t breathe. 

There were flames already eating through the first story, their ominous glow cutting through the night. Owen knew in his gut he had been right but seeing it stoked an entirely new fear within him. TK was in there. Carlos was in there. He needed to get them out. 

He moved towards the structure but suddenly there were hands on him, pulling him back. He rounded on the hands holding him, ready to fight back only to be met with Judd’s unimpressed gaze. 

“Running in there half-cocked and getting yourself hurt isn’t going to help them,” he told him, pressing an AFD t-shirt into his hands. “Cover up your face and let me grab the extinguishers, then we’ll go in.”

Owen followed his instructions without much thought, his shaking hands moving on autopilot to fasten the shirt around his face. His gaze never left the flaming structure before him, his chest aching with the knowledge that his son was trapped in there. It wasn’t long before a fire extinguisher was pressed into his hand by Judd, but it felt like an eternity as he watched the flames grow ever higher. He felt as if he were in those flames himself, the fear and guilt eating away inside of him with every passing breath that he got to take that his son might not.  

And then they were moving, bursting through the front door and attacking the flames with their extinguishers. Owen barely took a moment to survey the downstairs — to see the familiar living space charred and destroyed — before he led the way up the stairs to the bedroom, Billy on his heels. The sound of breaking glass had him running faster and he burst through the door to feel his heart jump into his throat at the sight of Carlos preparing himself to jump out of a second-floor window, TK a step behind him.

He shouted at them to follow him as Billy did his best to quell the flames that threatened to stop them. But Owen knew they wouldn’t because he wouldn’t be deterred. Now that he had the boys in his sight, he wasn’t about to leave here without them; no matter what. 

They both turned and looked at him in shock and he can only imagine how little sense this all must make. But then TK was pulling Carlos towards them and then they were out of the room and down the stairs 

He noted the hand that TK kept on Carlos as he stepped in front of them and wondered how much of it was his training and how much of it was the need to know that he was still with him. It was an instinct he understood, as he led the way and did his best to clear their path with the one fire extinguisher he had. He could hear them behind him but he was almost afraid to turn around, as if somehow if he looked back they would be gone; a modern-day Orpheus giving into his doubt and losing it all. So he focused instead on the flames, on finding the next step. On the way forward. 

His mind had almost started to wander again — pondering the terrors and what-ifs even now — but a piece of the ceiling falling to the ground before him interrupted that spiral, wrenching him back to reality. Being surrounded by fire on all sides without a stitch of gear was unlike anything else and he bit back a cry as some of the smoldering debris landed on his arm. But he pushed on because TK and Carlos were behind him and that was all that mattered. He could weather any amount of pain as long as the boys were safe. 

Finally, they burst through what remained of the front door, and before he even paused to take a breath he turned on his heel to make sure that they were behind him, that he hadn’t failed even more than he already had. 

But there they were, hunched over on their front lawn; taking heaving breaths of fresh air and coughing out the remnants of smoke still trapped in their lungs. 

Distantly Owen heard the sound of footsteps behind him and Tommy ran to join them and of shouts as Judd and Billy spilled out of the front door. Tommy gave him a quick look before making a beeline for the boys, reaching out for TK who shook his head and nodded towards Carlos. Her expression softened ever so slightly as she reached out a hand for Carlos, guiding him (and therefore TK too) further away from the flames still eating through the darkness of the night sky. 

Owen watched them go as Judd appeared at his side, following his gaze before glancing down at Owen’s sleeve. 

“Those could be some nasty burns, Cap,” he observed. “You should get those checked out.”

Even as he said the words the 129 was piling out of their truck and the captain was calling out orders. Owen watched them go but knew with a sinking heart that the damage had already been done in so many ways. He shook his head at Judd a moment later, “They’ll keep.” 

Judd opened his mouth to argue but trailed off when he followed Owen���s gaze back to where TK and Carlos were now getting checked out by the paramedics, Tommy hovering at the edge. His expression turned sad at the sight of Carlos hunched over and TK wrapped around him, running a soothing hand up and down his arm even as his mouth moved in what were likely soft reassurances. 

“Do you think he’ll ever forgive me Judd?” he heard himself ask, and he wasn’t surprised when the other man looked at him sharply. 

“Who?” he asked, “TK?” He started to speak but then stopped as he glanced back over his shoulder at the home that was crumbling to soggy ashes behind them. His eyes turned back to the couple currently seeking solace in each other in the back of an ambulance before he sighed: “Yeah, he will. He’s good like that. It’s just gonna take some time.” 

Owen nodded his agreement but kept his mouth shut so what he was really thinking didn’t slip through. Maybe, he thought, forgiveness isn’t even what he is looking for. Forgiving could be easy and TK had perfected the art over the course of his life. He knew his son loved him, but love didn’t always mean the same as trust. Trust was something else entirely and Owen couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before his son ever put his trust in him again. 

[queenmuzz]

I wish you would write an AU fic where the fire never happened and the twins lived a 'normal' life and now where they're older Vergil has to balance college work with being a single father and just before he breaks down, the rest of the family swoop in to help.

Toschi.... why do you do to me!?  I have so many AU’s...and now you’ve added another one lol!

Vergil was not sleeping.  He was just resting his eyes.  After all, he had drank two cups of coffee, black, and was standing at the kitchen counter, boiling the carrots to puree for Nero’s food. He couldn’t afford to sleep.  He had two textbooks out, and a voice droned on about ‘economic theory’.  He had an exam in two weeks, Nero would have his six month check up next week....and he needed to do Mrs. Patterson’s bookkeeping by tomorrow.   Although he wasn’t going to admit it, he was reaching his limit.  Thankfully, Nero, angel that he was, napped peacefully while his father tried to catch up on all his tasks “When one looks at the economies of socialized countries...” the voice went on over his phone’s speaker, “it is often mistaken that...”

----- “In the next chapter we will discuss the effect government tariffs can have on imports and..” Vergil shook his head.  In the blink of an eye.... the audio textbook had skipped through a chapter and half of content...the sun had jumped from late afternoon, to sunset, and to his horror, the clock on the stove was now almost two hours ahead. Vergil panicked.  He ran to the stove, terrified that the water had boiled away, leaving nothing but charred remains.  How stupid he was, he could have set his entire apartment on fire!  He could not afford to be so weak. Especially with his son’s life!

Two things puzzled him.  

One:  The stove had been turned off, the water dangerously low in the pot, but not burnt. Two:  There was a soft gentle laughter and cooing coming from his sons room, and another voice... Quickly he walked towards the infants room, and to his surprise, he found Nero giggling happily...in the arms of Dante as his brother sat in the rocking chair. How and how in the hell did he get in?

“Hey there bro!” Dante said cheerfully, as he tickled the baby.  “Mom called you several times, but it went to voice mail, so she asked me to check up on you.”  

Vergil glared at him, “Alright, you’ve done your check up.  You can go home and make yourself a nuisance somewhere else.”

Unfortunately, Dante shook his head.  “I don’t think so Verg.  You see, you nearly gave me a heart attack, finding you passed out on the counter, the stove on, and Nero crying his little lungs out.”

Vergil paled.  Had he been so weak and left his son defenseless?  Well that would not happen again.  If he had to drink straight expressos, and endure his brother’s teasing for drinking Monster drinks, he would.  Anything to provide for his son, to keep his little family safe.

Strangely, Dante’s smile wasn’t its usual sardonic.  It was more...soft.  “Vergil,” he asked gently, “When was the last time you slept?”

“I had a nap this morning.”

“You know what I mean, when was the last time you had a full eight hours of sleep?”

Vergil thought back.  His memory was fuzzy.  But between work, school, and his son’s unpredictable sleeping habits... it had been...several days...weeks maybe?

He didn’t have to say anything, according to Dante.  “That’s it, its decided.  I’m taking the little squirt to mom’s for the next couple of days.  You need some alone time, if only for you to get a decent night’s rest.”

“That won’t be neccessary-”

“Cut the bullcrap, Vergil.  I can tell when you’re running on fumes.  You can’t be a dad to Nero when you’re half dead.”  He sighed, and stroked the top of Nero’s downy soft head.  “You know, it’s not weakness to let us help you.  You don’t have to go this alone.  Mom, Dad...and yes, even me want to help you, to make sure you two are doing okay.  Capice?”

Vergil sighed...perhaps one night at his grandparents while he recuperated would be enough.

“Very well... I trust you can drive him there?  At a safe speed?”

“You wound me, brother!  Like I’d ever put my adorable nephew in danger” he responded, mockingly offended.  “But...I gotta ask you one favour though...”

“Hmm?”

“He kinda stinks.... can you change him first?”

[thevoilinauttheory]

Fire

[ FFxivWrite2021 Prompt 2: Aberrant ]

The Five Part “In the Dreams of Ashley” series is done! Go read the others here! {Prelude} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Wind} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Fire} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Water} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Earth}

[ HEAVY CONTENT WARNINGS - THIS PIECE IS TO EXPLORE ONE OF MY DEEPEST FEARS CONTAINING: mentions of death/blood, regrets surrounding said death, nightmares, detailed suffocation, detailed description of burning to death, suicidal ideation ]

[ also decided to do a music theme this month and all of these will have musical accompaniment lol ]

To dream that you or someone is being burned alive suggests that you are being consumed by your own ambition. To dream that you are being burned by fire indicates that your temper is getting out of control. Some issue or situation is burning up inside you. If you are setting a fire to something or even to yourself, then it indicates that you are undergoing some great distress. You are at the brink of desperation and want to destroy something or some aspect of yourself.

==

“So how did you even get here?” Ashley shoved a dumpling into his mouth, having yanked it from the pot as soon as he realized it was ready. Ruta had set up a fire, a large heavy pot on top of it, filled to the brim with broth and vegetables. He didn’t question where she got it, or even how she carried it - though common sense dictated that she borrowed the pot from the fishermen in Isari, as well as bought the food; they *were* set up right outside it, of course.

“Hm?” Ruta had her mouthful already, slurping up what noodles were left in her mouth. It took her a good minute to finish chewing so she could talk; and in that time, Ashley had already taken to swishing thin slices of fish around until they were cooked enough to eat.

“Y’know, get here. Back in the cells, you said you were from Kugane… but, uh… no offense, but.” “Because I’m Xaelic?” “...Yeah, sorry. That’s rude of me to point out.” Ruta only laughed. “Yeah… I left that part of me in the Steppes. I was capable, but… I thought, as a kid, if they’re gonna leave me tied up to a tree, I might as well go my own way. What’s to say that it’s not going to happen again?” “Tied to a tree? Oof, that’s rough.” “Made it all the way to Kugane and ran into some nice folks who thought ‘who in the hells let this child run around on her own!’.” She laughed. “They adopted me. Real nice people.” “They still with you?” ”Hope so, it’s been a few years.”

He stared at the flames, leaning back on his hands after he filled himself up on food - thinking about her words, how everyone he knew would have moved on with their lives without him. “Where’re Colette ‘n’Hunter? They’ve been gone a while.” “I think they went ahead to scout for a boat. We gotta leave in the dead of night, if we want a chance at getting past those pirates. You know how to swim?” “Uuhh… I’m gonna say “I’ll figure it out”.” He laughed. “Grew up in a desert, don’t really have time to learn to swim.” “You might have to! If we have to jump off the boat and swim our way there. I’m sure Hunter wouldn’t mind dragging you with him - guy loves to swim.” “Does he?” “I mean… he’s told me as much, at least.” “Hm.” That grin on her face only told him how much she was judging him. “What! Leave me alone! Stop staring like that, gods, it’s weird.”

==

“Don’t y’think you’ve been “retired” long enough?” Ashley leaned back in his chair and kicked his legs up on the table in front of him; he stuck the tiniest crumb of paper under his tongue, then closed his eyes. “Nope.” “Kid, you have to *move on*. Shite like this? This happens all the time - you’ve been sheltered way too long--” “Who died and made you th’boss of my life, huh? If I’ve been sheltered, then y’leave me to be the little bitch I am until I’m *ready* to “move on”. You haven’t experienced what I have. I haven’t experienced what you have.” “How’re you going to make any money to live with an attitude like that.” “Off my savings? My life ain’t your business - you can either sit here and enjoy a drink with me, or you can piss off. I don’t care either way, I ain’t working yet.”

==

He didn’t really need the road down memory lane - but it helped ease the pain, just for a little bit. His boots crunched over the shells and rocks that made up the shores of the Ruby Sea, staring at the water as he strolled. He had always questioned why they had referred to it as “ruby”, there was nothing as brilliant or red about it… back then, of course. He had taken its beauty for granted. The crimson kelp that made up the depths against the sparkling reflections from the sun, everything was so… peaceful. To a degree. He couldn’t account for the Garlean control over the area, and had to be on his toes because of it, but it was nice.

He wished his friends were around to witness it - it was dark when they were able to see it, if one could even call it “seeing”, as much as it was a black pit of unknown they were diving into.

He made a stop in Crick - he wasn’t necessarily welcome, but he wasn’t unwelcome either. They regarded him with impassiveness there, letting him relax as he wished or needed to - which happened to be in front of a fire with a pot attached to it, boiling water. How much longer could he stand to be here? The memories were starting to hurt now, they ached, and suddenly he felt ill to his stomach. That was when he decided it was best to leave, standing up to turn back the way he came - watching the ocean once more with the unevenness of the shore beneath his feet yet again.

There was a fisher’s boat floating in the middle, a small Auri woman casting out a line with a basket of fish next to her. Living a carefree, or… mostly carefree life. Living life as she could, and it seemed she was doing well enough. She turned her head and made accidental eye-contact with him-- those eyes, that face.

“Ruta?” He questioned softly, then smiled brightly and waved. “Ruta! You’re safe! Gods be!” As he watched the woman wave back, his vision blackened - flashes of the body of his fallen friend bleeding out on top of her girlfriend’s, looking behind him as he ran.

The next he knew were flames - and only flames. His whole body was searing, the heat too much for his skin. He tried to pull his foot from the ground, to try and run for the ocean, but he could not move. He stayed in place and it only seemed like the relief of water got further and further away the more he longed for it. It started with his legs, that’s where his eyes turned to next. One foot stood solid in the slowly creeping fount of lava, threatening to take the next one over. What happened? How did he get here? There was no way he would have done this of his own volition, was there? But no, he did - he stepped right into it, a wonder, no, a *knowing* of what the consequence would bring. A solace in knowing that this would be the price he paid for his inadequacies.

Even as he tried to change his mind - tried to scream for help that could not hear him, the fire climbed only higher. All he could do was cry out in pain as he watched his clothes set ablaze, and his skin begin to blacken and peel. The pain of it all, the searing pain of his skin melting from his bones wasn’t even the worst of it; it was the agony of seeing it happen slowly - the scent of the hairs and flesh charring; the popping, bubbling, cracking noises that followed until he was swallowed whole by it. Each scream, each breath, he was forced to swallow the flames until they choked him - then each cough cooked his lungs; his vision was nothing but reds and oranges until it had gone black, and what was left of him could only fall to try and drag itself to an escape out of pure need for survival. Only to be overtaken by the slow and searing pain of pure fire covering the entirety of his body - the last he heard was not the crackling of his bones like tinder, but the paddles of a boat hitting the still water as it passed right by him.

==

His awakening was a slow one this time, feeling the tears that had dried against his cheek. He woke up next to the flames of the dying fire, left alone by the people of the town around him. He was disoriented, confused. When it finally settled that it was a nightmare, he let out a heavy and relieved sigh.

Not quite the same as the last, but no less painful and terrifying.

[millllenniawrites]

wildest dreams (Poe Dameron x Reader)

part four of dear love of mine

words: 800ish

warnings: smut so this is 18+ folks; light humiliation; title kink; fingering; a single spank; fem!masturbation; bruising during sex mentioned; reader has a last name; this chapter is basically one long sex scene; regency au for the aesthetic but it’s historically inaccurate for the *vibes*; afab!reader; slow burn; sexual themes throughout; eventual smut; pining; warnings will be added as the series progresses

a/n: Happy International Fanworks Day (two days late but I procrastinated editing this so that’s what’s happening)! This series is presently my favourite thing I’m working on so I thought I’d give you guys a surprise update! This one’s short, but I wanted to keep it that way due to the nature of the content

Generally the smut in my series’ are necessary for plot but as long as you know that (THERE ARE SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT) reader gets herself off thinking about Poe, you’re good. I know there are a few people on this taglist that don’t wanna read the smut so like it’s okay for you to skip. promise. I personally wanted to write it for the challenge and it is somewhat plot relevant to the next few chapters, but it’s not necessary. So you can skip it if you aren’t here for the smut.

@intergalactic-smut-hutt and I wrote the smut in this chapter for Helix and it got cut from book two, so I adapted it for this! the rest of the content here is mine

__

"Good girl."

Your eyes fluttered shut as he pulled you against him. One hand cradled your head lightly as the other worked its way under your skirts, tracing up the inside of your thigh to your centre. You were soaked through from the second he touched you, trembling for him. You moaned as he played your body like an instrument with every chord memorized.

Poe’s breath, hot on her neck. “Miss Dean,” he scolded, “I’ve barely gotta touch you to get you wet for me."

You gripped his shirt, hips jerking into his palm as he dipped his fingers between your folds. “Poe…” you gasped, head tilted back. “Please?” It was a whine, low and full of need.

Your clothes disappeared. Knees on the bed, completely spread open for him, dripping with his cum. He smiled, urging your thighs apart with his hands.

You gasped, “General. More. Please...”

He leaned down, kissing your ass lightly. His hand replacing his lips with a solid smack, hard enough to bring a little bit of flush to your skin.

*

You shot up straight in bed, clutching your damp sheets to your chest.

Your room was empty, the curtains drawn, exactly as it had been when you’d fallen asleep the night before. You were still fully dressed. And clean, aside from a light sheen of sweat that glued your sheets to you.

The General was nowhere to be found.

As he should be. It would be highly inappropriate for him to be there with you. In the middle of the night. Alone.

Doing unspeakable things to you.

It might be better if you avoided reading from your secret collection of romance novels right before bed.

Something crinkled beneath you. From under your hip, you retrieved the General’s first letter. Once again, you found yourself tracing over the curve of his name.

Poe.

Dinner that night had been uneventful. The General had attempted to snag your attention on two occasions (which you politely but quickly dismissed) before seeming to give up. He had nearly sulked through the rest of the meal. Quite unbecoming behaviour for a supposed General.

It bothered you more than you wanted to admit, how quickly he’d abandoned trying to win your attention. In two short days, you’d gotten very used to the way he’d vie for a simple look from you. You squirmed in your discomfort, laying down and shoving the letter back beneath your pillow.

Visions of him had plagued you since Char had left for the night. You could still feel the way his calloused hand had brushed against yours. Nothing you did could shake it loose. He was so warm… almost as warm as the feeling between your legs.

You began counting your breaths in your head. Hands fisting the sheets, you tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable.

Without truly considering the implications of it, you let your hand snake down your body, pressing into the warmth between your legs.

Immediately, you relaxed down into your sheets, your discomfort momentarily eased by the quick brush of your fingers. But the heat returned, and with it came the wave of need you’d found yourself floating in right before you’d awoken.

You needed to sleep. Your mother had asked to meet with you early and she’d fear for your health if you weren’t well rested.

Hiking up your skirt, you let your fingertips trace over your clit once more.  

It couldn’t hurt. You’d get to sleep. Finally. Maybe his piercing gaze would be blunted if you indulged, just for a moment.

When you closed your eyes, his dark ones bore down into yours. You could almost feel the light brush of his lips over your cheek. Your jaw. Your neck. The way his hands would grip your hips. The bruises his fingers might leave behind.

Curling your fingers the way you imagined he would, you pinched your lips together to keep your moans quiet. In your dreams, he wanted you loud. In your dreams, you’d sneak around and risk getting caught. You’d travel to a town far away, pretend to be a duchess and a prince both hiding from their responsibilities. For a night, it wouldn’t matter than you shouldn’t be together. That you shouldn’t think of him like this. Together, you could escape.

As you clenched around your own fingers, you whimpered into the back of your hand. His name escaped, a soft confession into the night air.

Laying in your damp sheets, you caught your breath. You weren’t sure how you were going to face Poe in the morning.

Sleep stole you from your thoughts of duty, whisking you into another dream about a dark haired General, as if your sin had opened a door you now didn’t know how to close.

[nega-aria]

May I have Daddy!Gravesbeaks with the 🔥 - have a bonfire prompt please? Thank you! ~ MadamKezzie

Hells yeah you can! Daddy Gravesbeaks gives me life ❤

“Mallows”

Rating: SFW

Characters: Falcon Graves, Mark Beaks, Boyd Beaks

Ship: Falcon/Mark

The massive backyard was a world all its own; something enchanted.

In fact, there wasn’t a single corner of that seemingly endless yard that

wasn’t bathed in autumn magic. Boyd stared in wonder at the leaves falling all

around him. He liked this fall thing, he had decided. It never ceased to amaze

how the world could shift so beautifully, and with every season that passed

Boyd found something new to be mesmerized by, but autumn was something extra

special. It was sunny but still cool with enough of a breeze in the air to

scatter the loose leaves into a vibrant promenade just for him. One in

particular caught his eye. Large and fiery red, like it was endowed with bits

of sunset.

It was perfect.

In an instant the chase was on. Faster than any kid should be

capable of. Boyd could see further and run faster, and his query didn’t stand a

chance. His scarf trailed behind him as he pursued. It wasn’t necessary, nor

was the coat. He couldn’t feel cold, but he liked to feel like everyone else,

and everyone else wore coats in the fall. His sensors told him there was wind

on his face and dry leaves beneath his feet, but he couldn’t really feel them. Dad said he was going

to fix that soon. Boyd was glad. He wanted to feel. Truly feel like everyone

around him did, not just produce a preprogramed reaction to stimuli.

A final defiant gust of wind kept that flawless foliage just out

of reach, forcing Boyd to use the jets in his feet to keep it from getting

away. Some things, Mark wasn’t allowed to change. “Papa worries about me,” Boyd

reminded himself as he clutched his successfully captured leaf to his chest. He

wants me to stay safe, he thought. Even if that meant he could never be exactly

normal, Boyd wanted his father to feel better. He was the big, brave one, and

yet he always seemed the most scared: scared for Mark, for Boyd, and for his

own ability to express himself. Boyd didn’t want his father to be scared, so if

that meant being a real boy with rocket feet and laser eyes then that was okay.

So papa wouldn’t worry.

Boyd paused a moment, clutching his leaf and observing his parents

as they busied themselves with…what had they called it? Bonfire! Yes, bonfire.

Boyd’s first one, and Mark had promised a treat he had never even seen before.

A broad smile stretched across Boyd’s face as he raced towards his parents. Dad

always knew the best treats.

Even from a distance, he could hear Mark whining dramatically,

dropping his head to the ground and lying there beside the improvised fire pit like

he had given up on life. “Gravesy, this is too haaaard. Can’t I just have

mallows?”

“Fire first!” Falcon yelled from the nearby patch of trees where

he was currently collecting firewood.

Mark groaned harder as he lifted himself back into a sitting

position. “Slave driver,” he grumbled. Once again he attempted to start the

fire and once again he succeeded only in singing his own thumb. Mark swore

under his breath, sucking the abused digit and searching for a good excuse to

get distracted. He smiled widely at the one currently racing in his direction,

opening his arms just in time for his son to launch into them.

“Dad, dad! Look at the leaf I found!”

Mark’s eyes sparkled as he made a theatrical ooo sound in

response. “It’s perfect,” he gasped. “Let’s do the thing!”

Boyd bounced excitedly as Mark prepared for “the thing”, watching

over his father’s shoulder as he scanned every crevice of the leaf with his

phone. His smile grew wider when Mark faced his phone skyward, a soft jingle of

their experimental app chiming before a sparkling display of holographic leaves

swept through the air. They were perfect, and Boyd smiled brightly when he saw

the newest addition drift down in the presentation.

“I don’t hear a fire being made!” Falcon called, breaking the

trance.

Mark’s eyes rolled, landing on Boyd as they did so. “Hey,” he

whispered loudly, “help daddy out will ya?”

Big eyes blinked curiously at him. Boyd eyed the pit as if unsure

it would actually work, but aimed a foot at it anyway. A short blast from his

jets not only instantly ignited the tinder but pushed Mark back, yelping at the

resulting fireball.

“AH! I am so sorry!” Boyd said as he rushed to Mark’s side. “Are

you okay, Daddy?!”

Mark coughed slightly as he lifted himself back up. “It’s all

good, bud. Pretty sure I can spare some eyebrow,” he mumbled even as he thumbed

over both brows just to be sure they were actually still there.

Brittle leaves crunched nearby, and both parrots stared up at

Falcon. Mark’s surprised cry had obviously caught his attention as he was now

looming over them, bundle of wood under one arm and hand on his hip. “Did you

light that fire, Boyd?” he grumbled.

“No!”

“Yes!”

Mark aimed annoyed eyes at his son who was currently grinning ear

to ear and looking entirely too proud of himself for having ratted out his dad.

“Traitor,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be a dirty little cheat like your dad,” Falcon said,

pointing a finger down at his son.

“Yes, papa,” Boyd replied, arms innocently held behind his back. “Show

me how to build the fire?” he asked excitedly.

Falcon laughed softly. How could he resist that face? “Alright,

come here,” he said, sitting beside Mark on the blanket they had laid out and

depositing the pile of wood beside them.

Boyd instantly climbed into his lap, settling in as Falcon wrapped

an arm around him and moved them both slightly closer to the small fire.  

“You have to start with the kindling, the small bits,” Falcon

said, tossing a twig into the fire for emphasis. “Which your dad was supposed to do,” he added with a

sideways glare at his husband.

“Yawn,” Mark said distantly, not bothering to look up from his

phone.

Falcon rolled his eyes but chose to ignore him. “Once you have a

good spark going you build it up.”

Boyd watched in curious wonderment as Falcon began to add some of

the smaller logs to the fire, standing them against one another and explaining

how it was important to let the fire breathe. It really was like a living

thing, Boyd thought to himself. Alive and vibrant, swaying in the wind as it

grew stronger with every piece of wood that was added. Falcon even let him help

feed it. Sure he did so in a very paranoid manner, holding Boyd’s hand the

entire time, but he was happy he got to help.

“Then you nurture it,” Falcon finished, holding Boyd snugly in

both arms as the small parrot smiled happily and cuddled closer. He cocked a

brow at the chin that was suddenly perched on his shoulder, side eyeing his

husband quizzically.

“And theeeen,” Mark prompted.

Falcon sighed heavily but was unable to keep the slight smirk off

his face. “And then we roast mallows,” he finished.

“Yeah!” Mark replied, rushing off excitedly.

Boyd aimed eager eyes at his father. “What are mallows?” he asked

in awe.

Falcon chuckled. “Marshmallows,”

he clarified. “It’s like tradition to roast them at fires.”

“Roast them?”  

“Watch and learn progeny of mine,” Mark said as he returned with

the bag of marshmallows in tow. “First, ya gotta get yourself a quality

roasting stick type implement,” he said, obviously poking fun at Falcon’s very

serious instruction on fire making. “But don’t worry, daddy already did that

because papa left him alone and he was bored.” Boyd giggled as Mark loaded a

marshmallow onto his preselected branch. “Then ya roast it!” Mark exclaimed, shoving

his stick straight into the fire before pulling out his sufficiently flaming

treat.

He watched it burn just long enough for Falcon to wonder if he was

secretly a pyro before blowing it out with one loud puff. Falcon grimaced when

Mark shoved the entire heavily charred sweet into his mouth. “You do realize

you’re basically just eating carcinogen at this point right?”

“Mmm cancer tastes delicious,” Mark mumbled through his mouthful

of gooey treat.

“Do me a favor, son,” Falcon said to Boyd. “Don’t ever be as

uncouth as your dad.”

“No promises!” Boyd exclaimed, shoving his own stick into the fire

just as Mark had done.

His son was a quick study, and at times like this that seemed

entirely too frustrating to Falcon, but he smiled smugly when actually trying

to consume the blackened fluff made Boyd instantly reopen his mouth so he could

spit the rejected marshmallow into the fire with a telling “bleh”.

“That was terribly disgusting,” Boyd said.

“Boooo! You’re supposed to be on my side,” Mark whined.

They were too adorable, and Falcon couldn’t contain his laughter.

“Don’t worry, papa will show you how it’s done,” Falcon said, pushing a fresh

marshmallow onto his own stick before shifting the fire just enough to uncover

some of the coals.

Boyd watched mystified as Falcon showed him the proper technique

for obtaining golden brown marshmallow perfection, eyes sparkling as he soaked

in every ounce of sweet wisdom that Falcon had to impart. Mark had obviously

grown bored seconds into the demonstration, but he seemed content enough just

leaning against Falcon and documenting his son’s first campfire.

Expertly toasted marshmallows were definitely more agreeable, and

Boyd munched his happily as he watched the fiery coals dance before his eyes.

The same crimson hues were reflected in the sky above, the setting sun saturating

the horizon in rosy twilight as the day slowly slipped into darkness.

Fire was such a curious thing, Boyd thought. It wasn’t alive, but

it still needed to eat and breathe just like he did, and somehow that made him

feel better about his own real boy shortcomings. Boyd found himself in a sort

of trance as he watched the fire shine in the growing darkness. Small fingers

reached towards it, palm out and fingers spread in a search for any hint of

that heat that he knew was there. Nothing. Boyd knew it was there, but nothing

felt different, and he frowned sadly. Strong fingers gripped his outstretched

hand, pulling those searching digits back with a gentle firmness. Falcon held

his son’s hand tightly, smiling down at him. Boyd smiled back, gripping his

father’s large fingers with both hands. His sensors told him it was there, but

he couldn’t feel it. Or could he? He couldn’t feel it physically, but he could

feel it in a much more significant way, and that filled Boyd with a certain heat

that felt very real. He may not know what the warmth of fire truly felt like,

but he knew what the warmth of love was like, and that, he decided, was much

more important.

[neshabeingchildish]

Poly Wanna 15

Getting down to the crumbs in the bottom of the bag, I think. @chenoahchantel @henry-p-fart Y’all are the only ones that I heard back from the past chapter. It’s all on y’all now. Let me know how quickly I gotta end this, since it’s just y’all two sticking around.

Priorities and Boundaries

Henry had meetings with his production team before any of his appointments. They… didn’t go as he would have hoped. 

“So, Henry… As we all know, the recordings have taken somewhat of a turn in the past few weeks and we only have a few more weeks of recording before we take everything into production. We need to know what it is you want us to create with what we’ve been given.”

“What do you mean?” He asked. “The stuff is right there. A look at my life and what matters to me. A look at who I am.”

“Right, but the premise of this show was supposed to be who you are outside of these people, and all you’ve done is manage to show how much you can’t live without them. Now, if we’re making a reality show about your road to poly love, that’s one thing, but if this is supposed to be Dr. Henry Hart, out of the shadows of his Swellview contacts, you haven’t given us much to work with. Not to mention the heinously under-utilized opportunity we had to include Chloe and Bianca in this journey. We need more scenes with them, more footage of them, less footage of Charlotte and Jasper, more individual Henry, and for individual Henry to give us some of his juicier stuff from earlier in recording.”

“There was never anything juicy. I’ve been being myself the whole time. I can give you solo stuff, but I’m mostly in the Man Cave whenever I’m not in an appointment or with Char and Jasper.”

“THAT’S the problem. You spend too much time with them and not enough time giving us good content. Nobody is gonna watch a show about a sex doctor who is as fucked up as his clientele sexually and nobody is going to take relationship advice from a therapist that they discover is only just finding himself romantically, UNLESS you show us that despite these things, he is well rounded and capable. So far… You’ve managed to make yourself look even more inept than ever before and far more dependent than anybody would have guessed.”

“I’m finally in a healthy relationship again. I feel human. That’s my truth.”

“Okay… But… There’s more to your truth. What if… You unmasked?”

“If what.” Henry said it with no facial expression or tone of voice. Surely, they were joking.

“We feel like the only thing that could really save this show right now is either a scandal or a sensation. I mean - let’s be honest, Henry. You’re enjoying this relationship right now, but in a few months, you’ll be bored of them and want more. You’ll remember how orgies felt and like and you. Will. Cheat. You’re not going to remain in this relationship and therefore… you shouldn’t prioritize it over the success of this show that you’ve put a lot of time and money into, and WE have put a lot into as well! We should work together on making a marketable product out of Henry Hart.”

“Dr. Henry Hart,” he said. “And… the product is as it is.”

“Well, the product is defective, then!” Grumpy Cat said and got up. “Listen, you two can do this with him, but I’m not putting other projects on hold for something that all of the professionals in the room see going down the toilet.” 

He stormed out and Henry conferenced to the doorman, “Gooch, make sure that you collect all of Tyson’s things. He’s saying goodbye to this operation.”

“Acknowledged,” the young Gooch said. 

Henry stood up, walked over to the door and locked it, cracked his knuckles and said, “I understand that there may be some frustrations about how things have turned out. I had a certain plan in mind for this project, as well. Have things changed, definitely? But, my goals haven’t. So, maybe, just maybe there is no unknown Henry Hart outside of his friends. But, whoever I am, that’s who you show. And, sure - if you want to try to film with Chloe and Bianca, I can’t stop you, but I don’t really have any reason to say anything more to either of them and my partners don’t, either. One thing that I need for both of you to understand at this moment is this fact - whenever your team met me, I didn’t have anything to lose, because I had lost everything, twice. I wasn’t loved and I wasn’t attached. There were boundaries that I never established, because I honestly couldn’t have cared less. What you need to now understand is that I’ve gotten my world back. In abundance. I’ve got boundaries now. I have priorities. So, say your piece, do your dance - whatever you feel like needs to be said or done, but I will in turn do what I feel like I have to do to protect my world. What will never be acceptable is to be on the attack when it comes to either of the two of them, and God help you, if I feel like you’re a threat to both, or to us…” 

His intercom sounded and Young Gooch reported, “It’s done boss. All of the subjects’ Kid Danger and Mr. Feelgood memories have been removed from the revelation point through the present…” Both remaining members of the team gasped and looked at each other in horror.

“Gooooood. Report to Schwoz for a quality assurance survey for the changes in the new and improved memory swiper, please.”

“Got it, Boss.”

Henry noticed that his sleeve was unbuttoned, and casually corrected that. “You.. you stole all of Tyson’s memories of you from the past three years?”

Henry furrowed his eyebrows, fixed his collar and corrected her. “I withdrew the privilege of him knowing my secrets. He gave up on me. He doesn’t deserve them and he signed a waiver specifically detailing that memories would be removed should he leave the operation disgruntled.”

“He was upset! You didn’t even give us a chance to talk some sense into him!”

“I don’t have room for the possibility of him walking out of here and calling the Swellview News. Swellview is way more dangerous than it once was. The secret of my identity can affect the safety of my lovers. I can’t allow it. Thank you guys for this meeting, though. I can’t WAIT to see what other ideas you might come up with for the rest of the show.”

“Well… What… about the announcement? To… to your families?” 

Henry smiled and clapped his hands together once, “See! He’s still thinking. I love it. I’ll talk with the others. You two have a wonderful day.”

.

My parents both think that I am a sexual deviant who, I’m not sure if they think that I went into this line of work to meet all of the nymphos and whatnot in Swellview and surrounding areas, but as I’ve tried to tell them numerous times, having a healthy, even highly populated sex life is completely normal, especially when boundaries are established and agreements are clearly stated. A woman goes to hang out with her friends and everyone talks up a gangbang that she reluctantly agrees to - problematic and possibly assault, depending on the details. A woman WANTS a gangbang and speaks with several friends regarding their desires and compromises, whether she does this only once or forty more times - perfectly healthy. The idea and concept of respecting one’s body and things of that nature are generally steeped in the socialization of the times. Now, the way that we internalize problematic socialization definitely can alter the normalcy of these examples. For instance if the woman in either example grew up watching porn - her viewpoint of a gangbang would be influenced by that. If she grew up in a church and wore a purity ring for all of her adolescence and was given abstinence only sex “education...” If she had no access to porn, but realistic parents and an excellent sex education system… there still would be some remnants of what society says about all of these things, but she would be in the position to make healthy, fulfilling decisions about her body and her sexual interactions. I too am capable of this! My family needs to know that because I have two partners now, that is perfectly safe and healthy… and hopefully, their parents can come to see that, as well. 

.

Charlotte focused on her current records of the most recent findings with her project. There was no good way to tell her mother about Henry and Jasper. Her mother had never been the type of person who would be open to this. For all that she was conscious of and all that she believed Charlotte should have the independence to do… She never would be comfortable or supportive of a polyamorous relationship. She won’t even CALL it that. Whenever Charlotte tried to tell her about before, she said something to the effect of, “That will never last, Honey. It’s hard enough to dedicate your all to one man, much less two.” Charlotte was trying to dedicate her all to two men. Not then, and not now.

What Charlotte did in a relationship was offer her partner a percentage of herself - selected energy, time, space, access, and in turn expected a certain amount from them, and in her mind THAT was the only type of relationship that made any kind of sense! What didn’t make sense to her was that her mom thought that it was reasonable to be the type of person she raised her to be, but also simultaneously commit to another person in such a way that it could be described as “giving her all.”

If I gave my all, what would be left for me? I’m giving you what you deserve, and that itself is on a “if you deserve anything” basis. If you don’t, it’s over. But, never will I ever give my all. That’s reserved for me.

“Jasper… How would you say it? Like, if you and my mom were talking?” She asked. He looked up from his laptop and stared at her for a while, honestly lost, because this conversation came out of nowhere and moments before, he was researching the cosmetic benefits of breast milk. She’d mentioned it and he went down a rabbit hole. Now, he had to focus. What did she ask him? Jasper… How would you say it? Like, if you and my mom were talking? What did that mean? OH!

“Well, I would say, ‘I know that this is a very strange arrangement from the outside looking in, but fortunately for you and your confusion, there’s no necessity for you to understand it. All that is requested is your support and hopefully you don’t have to fully understand someone that you love in order to give them that.”

“WOW! Jasper… That was actually great.”

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Char. I’m a little bit insulted by your decision to interject the word “actually” into that compliment.”

“Gonna be honest with you, that’s fair. Sorry, Booty Bear. I didn’t mean because of you. I meant because I’ve known my mom my entire life and at least half of that, I’ve been poly and not able to figure it out and not able to figure out how to tell her. Now that I’ve figured it out… Trying to come out to her again, this time in such a serious capacity - it’s terrifying. I just… Know that she’ll disapprove. So the whole angle of the fact that she doesn’t have to get it to support me is just what I need.”

“Well, I never know what you’ve got going on. Whenever you talk about spirituality or science. Whenever you tell me about work and your interests… I try to keep up, but I rarely can, and it never changes what I think of you, how much I love you or support you. So, really, I was simply speaking from my personal experience.”

She held her hand over her heart and moved to go hug him. 

Henry came off of the elevator and smiled at them. “Okay… WITHOUT me?” He joked.

Charlotte unhanded Jasper and his arms missed her already. She told Henry, “Jasper just gave me the basis of my thesis to my mom about our relationship.”

“Really? I thought that I had that covered,” Henry said.

“You have the psychological and health portion, but Jasper has the bottom line. I already know from the last time that “Well, I’m a grown woman and I make my own decisions,” will only lead to it being cited against me for the rest of my life. My mom is Petty Page with everyone but the one person she should have been petty with.”

“Did you just…?” Henry asked.

“I love petty puns,” Charlotte replied.

“Petty White. Petty Wright. Petty Wap. Petty Labelle. Peter Pettygrew. Pettycake, Pettycake Baker’s Man…”

.

Mrs. Page looked really great. Henry hadn’t seen her since he and Charlotte broke up… not like this, anyway. He’d see her around Swellview sometimes and he usually dodged her, because she’d warned him before that if he hurt her daughter, she’d have to hurt his feelings… and Henry didn’t want her hurting his feelings. He’d seen her at the school before, at their job before, out in public when somebody did or said something to Charlotte… She was really good at hurting people’s feelings, and he was someone who had very sensitive feelings, whether or not he would say so… about certain things, at least. Last thing he needed was for her to drag him in the street and talk about stuff that Charlotte might have confided in her with and loud talk him into dying of embarrassment. 

So, any time that he noticed her in town, he hid and fled. He thought he was smooth with it until she opened the door of the house for them and said, “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the front of Henry Hart’s face and not his backside as he tries to run away before I have the chance to read him for filth…” 

He turned red and laughed awkwardly. “It… Is… my face.”

“Hmm,” she said, unimpressed.

“Mama Page,” Jasper said. 

The woman squealed and threw her arms around Jasper and squeezed him very tightly, saying, “Son-in-Law! Now, you know that you can just say “Mama.” Mama Page sounds like one of those old ladies in reality TV and I’m not even trying to have my face on there, much less have a nickname out there, in the world.” She rubbed on his chest and asked in a low voice, “Why do you keep letting my daughter convince you to do crazy things? You know that she’s going through something right now.”

“I can hear you, Mom,” Charlotte said and looked at Henry. 

“Everybody come in,” her mother said. When they were inside, she asked Charlotte, “You still mad at me?”

“I needed you and you refused to help me, but you let Dad be here. I’m not mad at you, but that is what happened and I should be able to feel things about it, whatever those feelings are. Let’s not discuss it again, okay? That’s not what dinner is about tonight.”

Jasper’s parents, Henry’s parents and Charlotte’s dad all were already there. Everyone hugged Charlotte, but Henry only hugged his own parents and Jasper’s mom. Jasper didn’t hug anybody else. Mama Page was enough for him, but he did smile and nod to his parents. 

“The reason that my parents are here is more for solidarity with Henry and Charlotte than for this announcement, or for their support. Whenever Henry and I initially got together, my dad called me a “fruit” and my mom told me that a nice looking boy like Henry was probably just using me, that I needed to find an ugly boy with low self esteem, like she did… And she thought that was a nice thing to say… That it was helpful. So, even though she took care of me when I almost died, speaking to my folks about my relationships isn’t really... a thing I care to do.”

“So, should we all sit for dinner, then?” Mrs. Page asked and let everyone settle into their seats. She and Mr. Hart were seated next to each other, across from Mr. Page and Mrs. Hart. Jasper’s parents were seated next to each other, though he could tell that they weren’t getting along today, and he, Henry and Charlotte were seated across from them, with Charlotte in the middle. “I thought it was weird to arrange this dinner meeting. The last time these three families got together, I think you kids were in junior high.”

“No, we’ve gotten together since then,” Siren said.

“Not with the Dunlops,” Mrs. Page said, and her tone was short with the woman. 

Henry blinked and clapped his hands together once. “Well, we’re all here now, is what really matters. There are things that have been mended and we just would like to celebrate that with all of you.”

“What’s been mended?” Mrs. Page asked, but she was looking at Jasper, a little bit worried.

Henry spoke, since it was he who’d said the thing she was responding to. “Well, Charlotte, Jasper and I no longer have the same negative feelings towards each other that we had not too long ago. We’ve been able to come together and fix things.” He reached for one of each of their hands and leaned over Charlotte to make eye contact with her mother (who was on the other side of Jasper). “I’m making things right between the three of us. Atoning for things that I’ve done to them.”

“Hmm,” she said and glanced at Jake, then at her ex and Siren. “Well, that’s nice, right? Nice that our children are able to fix things, after all of the betrayal and the hurt. Very mature.” She stood and said, “I’m going to start fixing my plate. Jasper, there’s peas over there. I couldn’t bring myself to make fish sticks, so you’ll have to settle for my pan fried fillets, instead.”

“I love your pan fried fish, Mama P…” She threw him a look and he stopped himself from adding her last name. He looked at his mother and asked, “Can you pass the peas?”

Charlotte sang a little under her breath, “Pass the peas like we used to..” Her mom smiled at her and her dad chuckled. Henry felt left out of some kind of family joke, but invited it, because he knew that things were often awkward for her with the Pages these days. 

When everyone’s plate was full, Siren said, “So, Henry… You told me that you three have an important announcement. Was it the fact that you’ve gotten your friends back?”

He cleared his throat and said, “That’s the first part of it.” 

She smiled and waited. He started eating. “Well? What’s the next part?” Charlotte and Henry both looked at Jasper. Jasper had a mouth full of peas. Mrs. Page made THE BEST peas… 

“Well…” he said, finished chewing, swallowed, took a sip of his beer and nodded his head, “We’re in a relationship. The three of us.”

“Like… Swingers?” Siren asked.

“No, Mom. Not like swingers. We’re all in this relationship together.”

Mr. Page said, “Well, Charlotte and Jasper have been in a relationship for like a year or more, so what, are you like their boy unicorn or something?”

“No. I’m now also in a relationship with both of them. It’s a new relationship, not an add on to their relationship. It is called a polyamorous…”

“Why would you do this to yourself again?” Mrs. Page asked Charlotte. “You didn’t learn your lesson from the last time? Of all the people that you would want to play this new age House game with, you’d pick the one that had you running across the country to avoid his face?”

“That was a long time ago,” Siren said.

“I know! I had to visit my daughter out of town for many years. I know exactly how long it was. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, though. If it did, then I would be fine with what happened in 1999, New Year’s Eve. And, if you wanted to know, I am not fine with it.” Siren wiped her mouth, looked at Mr. Page, then back to the three and said, “Well, I support the three of you, like a mother should.”

Mrs. Page scoffed and laughed a little bit. Like a mother should be out there having so much sex around town that her husband had to eventually just start lying and saying that they were swingers, even though he had no idea she was even doing it FOR YEARS, with his dumbass…

“Mom…” Charlotte cut into her thoughts. “I know you and Mrs. Hart aren’t the best of friends, but tonight isn’t about her and Dad, or anything else.”

“It kind of is, Charlotte. Where do you think you’ve gotten this weird habit of never being able to decide who you want to be with? You got it from him. You knew as well as I did what he was like and you internalized that. You normalized it.”

“I. Am. Normal. I’m just not like you. Monogamy never made sense to me. Whenever you think about what you want in a partner, you think… one person might have it all? And if not, you think you should have to compromise away things that you expect or just be lonely while nobody meets your standards? If you do, that’s you and you’re normal too. We’re just different types of normal. You’re a normal monogamous person, and I am a normal other.”

Her mom smiled gently, “I remember whenever you asked me about what if you liked two boys for different things. I explained monogamy to you and I remember the look on your face, so vividly. I remember it because I wasn’t used to it. You were confused. It was weird to see. You were never easily confused and something that came as natural to me as air, your little genius brain couldn’t cimprehend it.” She sighed, “If you HAVE to do this, did you have to do this with… them? I love Jasper, you know that, but… I’ve been worried that he might leave you for another boy the entire time and you bring the worse boy to him and just serve him up.”

“It isn’t like that, Mrs. Page,” Jasper said, not calling her Mama this time. Not while she was being this way. “It’s like this. IF Mr. Page had come to you and said, I don’t think that I can be with one person. I think I’m meant to spread my love to others and you would have said, ‘Well, you do that right now and I tolerate it and act like I don’t see it, so I’m glad that you told me about it,” and you two remained involved and married and in love and he found whatever it was he was out there looking for and kept whatever he had with you and you, likewise, did the same, then someday, you both found something in the same person, and all three decided to share.”

“Horrible example,” she said. “I figured it was more like, Charlotte is very high maintenance and also likes to laugh. Henry’s rich and you’re funny.”

“Whatever it takes for you to approve,” Jasper said, chuckling.

She looked reluctant. “If… EITHER of you hurt her again, at all, I’m coming for you, and then I’m coming for your mothers, for good measure.”

Siren said, “We are sitting right here.”

“Good. That means that you know what will happen in the unfortunate event that your boys TRY me,” Mrs. Page said.

Mr. Dunlop rolled his eyes and and mumbled something. Nobody seemed to hear him but Jasper, probably because he was used to him being discretely insulting. Something about “Dumb as dogshit” and “Banging fruits and coloreds.” Jasper’s eyes welled with tears and he glanced around to see if anybody heard him. The Pages didn’t get up to beat the snot out of him, so he figured that they hadn’t. But he had. 

“Not the proper way to refer to people, Dad,” he said. 

Charlotte paused from spooning a huge chunk of baked vegan mac and cheese onto her plate and Henry covered his mouth and nose with both hands and said, “Please, let it go.”So Henry had heard.

“No. He owes both of you an apology. He can say whatever he wants about me, but nobody is going to insult either of you. Not while I’M around.”

“I apologize. I didn’t intend to be heard. Moreso talkin’ to m’self. And definitely talkin’ ‘bout YOU, not really them.”

“You’re a dick,” Jasper said and dropped his fork on the table, trying not to cry.

Charlotte got up and marched towards the older man, but her mother caught her wrist and said, “Maybe the two of you should go?” To the Dunlops.

“I’ll wait in the car. You keep eatin,’” Mr. Dunlop said. “I ain’t takin’ you out nowhere after this, so you better fill up.” He left and Jasper let angry tears fall. 

“He’s why I was never that good at picking a man…”

Charlotte came back over to him and said, “Hey… Let’s go talk to the stars about it, okay?” She rubbed his back and he nodded and got up. Henry and Charlotte made eye contact and somehow, he knew the look to mean that she’d take care of this, if he’d handle the parents. He was the therapist, after all and she was a woman. Jasper didn’t need his man right now.

“What’d that tumbleweed even say?” Mrs. Page asked. Everybody looked at Henry, who sighed and shook his head.

“He said, should’ve named him Dumb as Dogshit, gonna die of AIDS banging fruits and coloreds.” 

The Harts gasped, Mr. Page rolled his eyes, Mrs. Dunlop kept eating like nobody said anything, and Mrs. Page asked, “Do those troglodytes still believe those stereotypes?” She shook her head, “You’re a lot of things I don’t care for, but I know that you’re at least careful. I’ll bet that you’ve never had so much as an STI.”

“EVER!” Henry said, excited that for once, someone, even someone that kinda still hated him, realized that he would not just be transmitting things, willy nilly. “Thank you for realizing that.”

“Swellview DEFINITELY would’ve been talking by now had anybody ever contracted anything from you,” she said. “Mary Gaperman would’ve called me on threeway with Officer Walnut.”

“Was not aware that they were associates, nor that you were friends with both.”

“I work in public relations,” she said. Why had Henry thought that she was an assistant of some sort? “I always know everything about everybody, whether I want to, or not,” she threw Siren a look again. Siren rolled her eyes and bit a dinner roll aggressively. 

Jasper and Charlotte came back and he looked better. “You okay, my baby?” She asked.

Charlotte answered for him, “He just needed to tell his problems to the stars, look up at their glory and realize that all of our problems are just so small when the universe is as big as it is.”

Mrs. Page poured herself a glass of wine and asked Jasper, “Why do you keep on letting my daughter talk you into things?”

“She’s so wise,” Jasper said and winked at Charlotte. 

His mother got up and said, “Thank you for the meal. Jasper… Call me if… You get sad again.” He was going to ask her if he could just call her in general, but she rushed out, and probably was rushing right to a fight with his dad. He’d embarrassed her tonight. She would definitely give him lip about that, not like he cared.

“You’re never gonna be like them,” Charlotte said. “We’re never gonna be like them.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m very lucky… to have both of you. Neither of you are like either of them.”

[millennial-star-gazer]

The Draconic Demon Within: Chapter 3

The Draconic Demon Within (Originally for Nalu Lovefest 2017 on previous celestialgeekmage accounts and Angst Week 2015 on Twishadowhunter/teamedwardjace2 in the past and Vera's April 2018 Prompt challenge on cosmicdragonwizard account )

Genres: Romance, Friendship/Family, Drama/Angst, Hurt/ Comfort, & New Adult Fanfiction

Vera's April 2018 Prompts: Soul, Empyrean, Savage, Memory, Trust, Fear, Unstoppable , Resilient, Supernatural (Implied) Lost (Implied) and Loathing.

Nalu Lovefest 2017 Prompts: Dreams

Nalu Week 2019 Prompts (Implied:) Lost, Curse, Trial, Treasure, Chance and possibly Bare.

Pairing: Nalu/EndLu,( Natsu x Lucy/ E.N.D. x Lucy)

Rating: M for language, steamy and mature adult sexual content (all consensual) in these and future chapters. Reader Direction is advised.(You have been warned!)

Summary: Now faced with the reality of who he is truly is, the son of Igneel must contend with the new darker instincts of his new demonic identity- all while navigating through his ever-growing, intense feelings for a particular celestial wizard. Originally a Submission (semi -au) for Nalu lovefest 2017 (on my previous celestialgeekmage account and now  one of my  entries for @nalu-week 2019 with chapter 3. (Also was on my earliest previous accounts of teamedwardjace/Twishadowhunter in the past. Also part of Vera's April 2018 prompt challenge from fic-writers appreciation on cosmicdragonwizard).

1/2 entries for @nalu-week 

Chapter 3: When A Star Dies

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A/N: Hey guys, it's your girl MillennialStarGazer back again! This time, it's with another installment of TDDW which is also happens one of my entries weeks for @nalu-week  2019. I was actually working on Chapter 3 along with those for my other fics (including WIPs) on my ipod . Took me some time to finish on account my other writing projects and responsibilities in my life— though I'm glad that this chapter's finally posted. This chapter's title was inspired by A Billion Stars Will Die Today from the incredible Nights Amore who's one of my favourite modern composers. (This evocative score and other tracks can be found here). Oh and major kudos to my friends/mutual's @bmarvels and @doginshoe for taking the time to be my betas whose positive feedback helped me to further develop and improve this chapter during its draft stage. Your help was invaluable—thanks so much ladies! Anyways, without further ado , here's chapter 3—enjoy!

(Note:   I’ve had to use  an alternative means of inserting divider/ page breaks by inserting pictures (or typing) in light of the original  tumblr  feature seemingly being removed by @staff .   Anyway, please be sure to  scroll down past cut for disclaimer,  corresponding links, legend and actual chapter content).

Disclaimer: Fairytail does not belong to me, but to the most honourable Hiro-sensei instead, for whom without this work of love wouldn't be possible.

Read Previous Chapters of TDDW and on platforms here:

(Copy and paste the links into another  window if need be)

A. Tumblr

Previous (Click Here:) (or here https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179816334878/the-draconic-demon-withinreupload-from/amp): 

 Next (Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/614628807073251328/the-draconic-demon-within-chapter-4-a-demons)

B. Fanfiction (Click Here:) (or here:  https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13113898/1/The-Draconic-Demon-Within-Reupload-from-cosmicdragonwizardaccounts)

C. A03 (Click Here:) (or here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17365061/chapters/40861307))

2. Ongoing Master  Post Of All My Writing (Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179665258923/master-fic-rec-post)

Legend:

Italic: Song Lyrics/Quotes (or flashback dialogue)

Bold: First Person Thoughts

Bolded Italics: Empathized, stylized Word(s) or bloodythirsty fantasies

Bolded Italics (Within and Outside Bracket) including for author's side notes also known as (A/N:) within brackets (though none for side-notes in this chapter ).

"The stars are not wanted now;

put out every one,

Pack up the moon and

dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;

For nothing now can ever come to any good."

(W.H. Auden: Funeral Blues)

Flashback

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"Lucyyyyy!"

Natsu's alarmed scream of Lucy's name rang out. Arms were catching his partner before she hit the ground. Just minutes before , the duo found themselves in the midst of a grueling stand off against two of Tartarus most notorious demons. Natsu versus Jackal ; Lucy versus Tempester who she battled with a valiant proficiency that her best friend or any other team would be immensely proud of;

"Whoosh and Whirl."

Only to be to no avail when a summoned whirlwind slammed into her light frame at the full force of a freight train before she could even blink.

"Lucy— can you hear me?"

"Please Luce— you gotta be okay! You.. can't... be gone... just can't be. If I Lose you...God! I can't... not again!"

Brittle words spilled from the lips of a tortured man rocking back and forth with a broken angel in his arms who never seemed so fragile.

My god... this pain... feels like everything is being blown apart! How viciously ironic those words proved to be. Natsu's entire world truly did seem to be crumbling around him.

"Lucy...open.. your eyes.." He gasped, frantic air being ripped from his lungs ." Let.. me know you're okay!... I'm .. begging ya'... just stay with ...me... Please?" The fire wizard's desolate voice broke on the last word. Gods above, what he wouldn't give to see or hear any vital signs of life from in motionless woman in his arms ; a single breath , a heartbeat or two, a twitch of fingers—anything! Honestly, he couldn't fathom how his life would have any meaning if his best friend's light was torn away from him.

Don't think I'd be able to go on.,,

It was then E.n.d realized his world would be so much darker without Lucy's guiding light— nothing more than a starless void. Not to mention, the indescribable , excruciating torment that would haunt their friends for years at a time if she didn't survive.

I couldn't stand to see them suffer like that. Luce has to survive — not just for my sake, but her own and the others… Please let her... what the hell?!

The unwelcome noise of steady, advancing footsteps broke through Natsu's reverie ; whose head whipped towards Jackal with a baleful growl.

"No— get away!"

"Ooh look at you barring your fangs at us like that!" Jackal was still sauntering towards the other wizards at a measured pace.

"Stay back!" The menacing snarl salamander slayer let loose in warning was positively bestial. Not to mention, his arms were automatically tightening around Lucy— sheer natural protective instinct. "Don't ya' dare come any closer!"

That bastard better leave us alone...

Good God how his fingers were just itching to char that infuriating , cocky smirk off the other demon's pathetic face.

But doing that would mean letting go out of Lucy and leaving her unprotected out in the open— not happening .

"Well aren't you quite the big,  scary, menacing, demon''. came Jackal's answering taunt, eyes flashing in sinister amusement.

" I said stay back..."

"Yeah, I don't think so," said Tartaros underling let out a taunting cackle of glee; which only served to boil the blood in Natsu's veins.

"Urghh–leave us alone or I'll literally burn the both of ya' to a pile of ashes for what you did to Lucy! "

Can't help but seriously want to tear them limb from limb right now...

Spasms racked the hybrid's sinewy frame at the same time as visceral images were flooding his brain from rising bloodlust.

Shredded remnants of flesh hanging from what was left of Jackal and Tempster's throat, a flash of extending talons.; spurting blood , hands instinctively pressing against punctured jugulars in frantic vain, agonized noises of agonized gurgling that were savagely pleasing to the ear. All for daring to lay a hand on the woman most precious—

Enough! God.. What the hell is wrong with me? And all these unexpected and strange, bloodthirsty instincts .. where are they coming from?! I mean sure I've been enraged enough to want avenge or thrash those who harmed my friends! But never the urge to kill —save for Jellal... and even that wasn't as graphic!

"Lost in thought?"

Jackal's taunting voice cut through E.n.d.'s reverie.

" Bastard— just leave us alone already!" His response was an incensed roar that was raising several octaves. "Why's that's so hard for ya' to get through your thick skull? As for my best friend— you'd better hope her heart's still beating or swear to God, I'll —”

"Jesus ...” The other demon muttered, his otherwise airy words laced with mild exasperation.

"Why are you so hung up over this celestial wizard of yours? Seriously dude... ya' might be one of the most powerful demons ever created— but you're kind of harshin' my vibe . Just chill.."

Scumbag… I'm either gonna save Lucy or avenge her...

"Look---no need to seem like you wanna rip our heads off, okay? Your woman's gonna be just fine. She's not dead— only unconscious. Hell, she's even got a pulse . Check for yourself if you don't believe me."

" Go to hell!" Natsu spat, words dripping with lethal venom." I don't take orders from sadistic psychopaths! And you'd honestly better not be lying!"

"I'm not. Just check, would ya'?"

Not trusting Jackal's claim , the fire demon lowered his head to press an ear against Lucy's chest; just for shock to shoot through his veins when what could only be the most precious noise in the entire universe could be heard — the steady beat of her heart!

Lucy's really okay?

Fic Tag Squad: @fuck-yeah-nalu @fortheloveofnaluevents @nalubookclub @nalu-week

@petri808 @magnolia726 @ccrispy

@yukimcffblog @i-write-fanfics-to-procrastinate   @writer-appreciation  @caandleworks @caandlle  @rougeminded @rougescribe @cobblepottantrum @lovelyluce @dark0angel13  @sovay-says

@soprana-snap @phoenix-before-the-flame @phoneboxfairy @bearpluscat @narutoyaoifan

@mautrino @goddesofimortality @nalufever  @thecelestialchick @nalu-natic @bearandbirdfan @pyroandtheprincess @mautrino @lucielhyung @smappybubbles @seehunnybees @lover-of-the-light117 

@rayhneatess  @nothingbutwordsstuff     @shootingstarssel @chamilsanya  @acidrain1698  @chamilsanya   @narutoyaoifan @superfreakerz  @nalu-natic @thecelestialchick @nalufever @moeruhoshi @h-eartfilias @lemonade-of-gods @fairywithajetblackheart  @katana-no-neko @mercurius-orion @nunnatheinsanegerbil @bearpluscat @shootingstarssel @kayty-of-fiore @narutoyaoifan @kaycha1989 @chiire @pyroandtheprincess @lovelyluce @sovay-says @satyrykal @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @phoneboxfairy @phoenix-before-the-flame @yukimcffblog @precenna @sugarpolis @fairywithajetblackheart @mercurius-orion @dark0angel13 @h-eartfilias @hungrypeanut  @shootingstarssel @sovay-says @satyrykal  @narutoyaoifan  @moeruhoshi @doginshoe @bmarvels

A/N: There you have it- chapter 3 folks! Fun fact about the title of this chapter: As you're aware, the title was inspired by previously mentioned score of the same name; Not to mention, how aptly-named this installment is if the events of this chapter, Lucy's type of magic and 's mindset are anything to go by. Not only is Lucy a celestial wizard, but she also happens to one of the precious lights or stars in Natsu/E.n.d.'s universe which he couldn't bear to lose if it were to be blotted out (from a metaphorical sense of course). Nor would he ever wish for his friends to suffer that kind of pain (as seen in the original anime/manga and sequel) . Hence why one of our favourite demons was so distraught when he truly believed Lucy to be possibly dead. Anyways, just thought I would provide a little more insight for those who were wondering.

All right, that's all for now. as always, don't forget to let me know what you think, like, reblog and share! Oh and be sure to stay tuned for the next chapter which will up ASAP once there's a chance for the writing process to start . Feel free to check out the rest of my writing as well! (Corresponding links are above, in the navigation bar and bio if reading this on tumblr. See other writing platforms for links as well! ) All right, that's it for now! Until next time— take care!

[applsauss]

Mors Ab Alto [7/8] - Terra Firma

Description: One year before the armed interventions. Union Zone, Rural Washington State.

Fandom: 
Gundam 00

Pairing: 
Tieria Erde/Reader

Word Count: 2.3k+


Warning(s): 
None

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

One year before the armed interventions. Union Zone, Rural Washington State.

      The sun is a violent red; It simmers in the chalky air. The grass is yellow and crisp around the uneven walkway, and in the bed of yellow flowers flanking the front door, there’s a pinwheel. It spins lazily in the breeze, unconcerned with the comings and goings of the seasons, with the smokey forest fires glaring from across the river. 

As you make your way up the front steps, the house looms, foreboding in its warmth. You’ve only returned a handful of times after selling it in the months following your mother’s passing, and your absence has made it all the more tall. 

Your apprehension is only counterweighted by the fact that, at least, you know the family you sold it to. They were neighbors from down the road and good people, hit the trails on Sundays with their two children and dog - though you don’t know how old the kids are anymore, or if there’s still a dog to hike with. 

You ring the doorbell. A voice shouts, muffled through the door, and then it swings open.

“Oh!” You’re greeted by a woman, Elizabeth. She follows her exclamation with the crisp syllables of your given name, and it makes your heart squeeze. After going so long by an alias, it feels unbearably intimate, and makes you painfully aware of Tieria, who’s standing just a few steps behind you, watching. “You cut your hair! How are you?” she tries to usher you inside, “come in, come in, we’re just about to have dinner. Who’s your friend?”

“Hi!” you bite off the rest of your greeting. “Elizabeth,” you say, stalling at the door, maybe a bit less excited than she is, “sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush. I just gotta get into the shed real fast.” Peering past her into your childhood home, you notice the paint in the hallway is smoother, and a different color. 

“Oh, no problem! We haven’t touched it,” she says, and she slaps a hand over her forehead, “Wow. It’s been years. You look so grown up - I mean, you look good.”

You huff quietly. “Thanks,” you smile, and she reminds you of Linda. “You look good, too - and the house,” you let out a puff of air, “the house looks great.” You give her a weak smile, “sorry, I’d stay to talk more but-”

“Oh, no.” She waves you off. “Go, go. Just stop by again before you leave, I’ll save you two a plate.”

The house behind her looks like a home, and she disappears back into its belly. She closes the door behind her quietly, leaving you and Tieria on the steps. You stare at the front of the house for a couple seconds, deliberately facing away from Tieria to gather your wits, and suck in a smoky breath.

“What are we doing here?” Tieria asks as soon as you exhale. There are geese flying overhead, honking, but neither of you pay them any attention.

You let out a disaffected laugh, then say, “stop asking. You’re the one who insisted on coming.” He takes a step back as you turn around, then follows as you hop down the front steps and begin picking your way across the yard to the shed.

“I didn’t agree to come here. I told you that it would be inefficient for us to split up, seeing as we’re supposed to take the same transport back to Krung Thep,” Tieria says as he follows you towards the shed.

Your response is a vague “hmm”, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with his complaint.

“Wait out here,” You say as you unlock the shed, and with some difficulty, manage to yank the door open. It drags on the gravel, then gets stuck. 

It doesn’t budge when you pull, so you huff and move to pull harder at the same time Tieria reaches to help. It unexpectedly jerks free, and you step backwards into him, shoulder colliding with his chest and the heel of your shoe coming down on his toe. “Oh, sorry,” you jump away, and when you look up at him, he’s frowning at you.

You leave him out in the dying sunlight, then flip your phone open to illuminate the dark space.

“What is this?” He asks, peering into the darkness after you. He’s still in the light, the sun playing on his hair, and his sweater is thin and open, billowing as the trees whisper. It’s all coming on too thick, too familiar.

“Again, Tieria, for someone who’s hell-bent on following protocol, you seem to be asking me an alarming amount of personal questions.”

“You’re the one who dragged me out here.”

“You’re the one who told me that either I take you or forget about it.”

There’s a car parked in the shed, an old model, though not old enough to be a classic, just run down. You tug the tarp covering the car over a wheel well where it blew away, and tuck it more securely under the tire, but otherwise walk past it, leaving it forgotten.

The shed is mostly empty, you’d gotten rid of most of your stuff, though there are a few things you couldn’t bear to part with. You’d never been materialistic, but when you said goodbye to your mom, you couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye to the reminders of her. A dresser in the corner, covered in a picnic blanket. A few of your mother’s favourite ceramic dishes. A glass from a brewery down the road. Hiking boots, a snow bib and sleeping bag eaten through by moths.

“There you are…” you mutter under your breath as you find the crate you’re looking for. Bending at the knees, you pull up the box of records with you and drop it on top of the dresser to rifle through its contents. When you’re satisfied that you’ve got the right box, you pull a drawer open and toss a box of matches on top of the box before picking everything up and turning towards the door. 

You carry the box out into the fresh air, then join Tieria, who’s wandered off to the remains of a fire pit: Concrete bricks lining a faintly dug-out hole, still charred white and grey. 

Tieria gives you a careful look, but keeps his mouth shut, refraining from asking any questions as you drop the box on the ground heavily, kicking up some dust. You flip the lid of the box open, revealing a mess of paperwork, and he clicks his tongue in distaste.

He crosses his arms, and taps his foot when you begin lighting the papers on fire by hand, then dropping them into the pit. Soon, the fire is strong enough, and you begin just tossing paper into the pit rather than light it beforehand.

“Can you finish this box up?”

“It wouldn’t be a breach of protocol, would it?”

“I dunno, you’re the one who knows about all that.” You hold out a handful of papers for him to take, and he takes them without another comment. Sometimes, his attitude is so… aggravating, and still… You notice how his eyes change colors in the firelight, or how the fire dances across his glasses. 

He pushes the sleeves of his sweater up to his forearms, and pretends to not look at the documents he’s diligently burning. And there’s some sort of deepset elegance in his form that you can’t help but admire. You turn away quickly, something undefined swirling in your chest. Sometimes, the best way to deal with thoughts like these are to just not think them.

The sun is set when you walk back to the shed. The sky’s lost its color, just a night, the stars like freckles at the end of summer, the moon a dirty orange, reflecting the smoky wildfire you’d passed on the way up the gorge.

Honestly, this work should have been done years ago, when you first joined Celestial Being. They’d asked you to get rid of unnecessary records, minimize potential damages and information leaks, but it was all too fresh and you couldn’t come back to just destroy all of this: Medical records, bills, college transcripts, bank statements, proof you had a life, family. Your mother kept records diligently, and you tossed them all in boxes when you left.

You pull a drawer out, and begin walking back to Tieria. The lights in the house are on, and you see Elizabeth and her family moving about like shadows puppets, Two parents, two children, a boy and a girl, sitting around the dinner table. You wonder if they have as many memories of this place as you do, if their bones consider this their home also. If the kids will grow up climbing out of their bedroom windows and meeting friends in swimming holes.

You join Tieria once again at the fire pit, set the drawer down next to the original box, and he’s staring down at something. It casts a shadow over his face, and then he hands whatever he’s got to you.

It’s a photograph – the child obviously you, and the woman your mother. You’re eight, maybe nine, sitting on her lap as you beam at the camera. She’s smiling, hair tucked behind her ears, and the neckline her tank top hanging low as she bends over to hug you. Pressing the side of her face to yours.

You never knew your father. You never needed to.

She reminds you of Linda, kind eyes framed by glasses, delicate hands – she’s always got her nails painted, but the polish is always chipped – and a strength under her skin, such a shock when most of what you remember of her is a tired soldier’s smile and a body riddled with cancer – the cancer she suffered through at the hands of radiation exposure – exposure that happened while she was serving her government, exposure that the government refused to treat on the grounds that there’s no proof they’re at fault - and so they just let her slip instead, refused to pull the plug out of the drain when you both were drowning in the bathtub. 

Fuck wars, fuck The Union, fuck the people who let the world be this way. Nothing means anything anymore.

You fold the picture in half and shove it in your back pocket, afraid to meet Tieria’s gaze – and you look back to Elizabeth’s silhouette and you’re struck by the urge to keep burning everything - to finally get rid of everything you were too weak to before. It would be too easy, to just keep going. 

Your chest burns, your eyes burn, the forest burns. You want to make it all disappear, like if you can get rid of the evidence, then it never happened in the first place, then you never had a life, never had a family before Celestial Being. You could forget about all of this, just let yourself be swept up by the tide of a new era, a new world, Celestial Being is a new beginning, and they’ve given you something to believe in, given your life a direction for the last couple of years.

You’re shaking as begin ferrying boxes back and forth. You watch a teddy bear dissolve into nothing. Tieria swells with quiet contempt. 

The night isn’t nearly dark enough, the air is choked by a smokey haze, and all you can see is the fire as the wood of a jewelry box warps, then crackles. 

Your high school diploma catches wonderfully, so do the binders full of notes from university. The blankets take longer. The heat of the fire is sweltering, and it makes you sweat.

You return with a stack of photo albums. The faux-leather melts off a front. The cover photo, a family portrait, bubbles and melts into nothing. Your throat tightens, but you don’t stop.

Family recipes become lost, notes left in lunch boxes float away as ash under the stars. A picture drawn for you by your cousin, cards spelling I-heart-you, your mother’s face, your mother’s face, your mother’s face.

Finally, you go back into the shed, and find nothing left but the car and the dresser, both gutted, the drawers tossed and turned over. You return empty handed to the bonfire, staring into the flames like it holds the answer, and watch the last of the plastic toys melt, the faces of heroes shifting into nightmares to mirror the family mementos, your life, and then you remember the photo in your pocket.

You pull it out, unfold it with your thumb and stare at your mother’s face, and you find kindness there, but it makes you feel weak, and you cannot be weak, so you hold the photograph out, towards the flames, ready to let it go, let everything burn, and fade into something new when Tieria reaches out and places his hand over yours. He doesn’t pry the photo from your hands, but doesn’t let it fall.

You stare at your hands, joined - His hand is warm, soft, his nails are manicured and his grip is gentle; you could have told him to wait for you, if you really wanted. You could have thrown a bigger fit, there really isn’t a reason for him to be here, every word out of his mouth is just thinly veiled justifications, so weak you doubt he believes them himself. 

You stare at your mother’s face, and can’t help but feel like there is all the reason in the world for her to be here, standing next to you, but she’s not. It’s unfair, like most things.

You pull your hand towards you, fold the photo and tuck it in your back pocket, afraid to meet Tieria’s gaze, and regret swells as you watch everything else dissolve and leave you alone in the dust. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N: Ketchum, ID, Boygenius. This is just self-indulgence. I’m not sorry.

Masterlist in desc.

[today-we-will-survive]

As The World Burns Around Us, Ch. 3

header made by me

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader ft. Taehyung

Genre: Apocalypse!AU, Angst, Thriller, Romance

Warning: dark themes, violence, gore

Word Count: 9.5K

Parts can be found in the masterlist under “As The World Burns Around Us”

Summary: You haven’t seen the sun in two years. The Virus wiped out a good three quarters of the world’s population and then the wars that followed wiped out half of that. After everything happened, it was only a matter of time before the different countries started blaming each other and emptied their nuclear arsenals. You’re still surprised Seoul survived – if you can call what it has become “surviving”.

You don’t know how much longer you stay there practicing, but by the time you’re done, the sun is setting and your target looks like it’s gone through a wood chipper. Your skin has a light coating of sweat on it, your breathing is shallow and your palms ache but you feel better than you have in months. Years actually.

As you make your way back toward camp, you swat at clouds of mosquitos and fiddle with one of your knives, slicing it through the air at an imaginary target. Taehyung’s remark about your skills becoming rusty irked you. And now you’re set on proving him wrong.

You’ve made it back to the front of the train and are imagining you’re facing off with a raider so you spin and duck, cutting your blade up to gut the guy when a hand clamps down on your wrist. Your breath catches in your throat causing a surprised shriek to escape as you meet Jungkook’s dark eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asks with a nervous chuckle. If he hadn’t caught your hand, that blade might be buried in his chest right now.

He releases you and you stand up slowly, putting your knife back in the sheath under your arm. “Just attacking a raider,” you mutter sheepishly. “He was about to clock me with a crowbar.”

Amusement replaces the startled expression on Jungkook’s face. “Did you get him?”

You match his smirk. “What do you think?”

“I think you haven’t eaten yet today,” he says and puts his arm around your shoulders. “And now it’s time you did.”

With warmth growing in the pit of your stomach, you lift your hand up to intertwine your fingers with his and the two of you walk together around the front of the train and toward the glow of the bonfire.

“This still all feels like a dream to me,” you utter as you look up at the darkening sky.

Jungkook leans in and kisses the side of your head. “Well then don’t wake up or you’ll ruin it for all of us,” he says causing a giggle to bubble up and out of your mouth.

The bonfire rages before you, fenced in by the silhouettes of all these boys you just met. As you near it, a sense of nostalgia hits you and you’re immediately reminded of the bonfires you used to have on the beaches in Busan. Jungkook must sense it too because he tightens his grip on your shoulders and brings you close to his chest.

Taehyung sits back in the shadows at the base of a tree away from everyone else so only the red glowing end of his cigarette is visible. Again, you find yourself wondering when the heck he started smoking?

“Y/N!” You spin around to find Jimin outlined by the fire, practically prancing toward you. He holds out two plastic plates to you and Jungkook, each weighed down with pieces of glistening, charred meat and a puddle of dark colored beans. You flash him a grateful smile as you take one from him. Jungkook takes the other and mumbles a thanks. Satisfied, Jimin turns and goes to join Hobi and Seokjin near the covered table.

“They all seem nice,” you say quietly and pick up a bean between two of your fingers.

Jungkook chuckles. “To you, maybe,” he says. “They fixed your hands. All I got was an arrow to the back.” He rolls his shoulder blade and winces. Then a thought hits you. Maybe he and Taehyung don’t want to stay. You feel panic seize your lungs with an invisible, icy fist. The bean smashes between your fingers.

“They thought you guys were going to hurt me,” you say hoping he can’t hear the underlying desperation in your voice. “You seemed to hit it off with that RM guy earlier.”

Jungkook makes a noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah, he’s alright, I guess.” He takes a bite of his chunk of meat. It takes him a minute to chew it. “And they did make you better,” he adds.

“I think it’s safe to say we can trust them,” you say hoping you sound convincing enough for him to agree. “Let’s stay just a bit longer.” You think about adding in a please but you don’t want him to know how terrified you are of venturing back out on your own.

Jungkook glances back at Taehyung who is still just barely visible behind the red glow of his cigarette. “Yeah, okay,” he finally says and you feel your insides unclench.

Though the relief is short-lived when you watch him make his way past the outer ring of the fire’s reach and settle down beside Taehyung at the base of the tree he’s perched under. With a sigh, you follow. Jungkook scoots over to make room between them.

Perfect.

The rest of dinner is spent sitting between Taehyung and Jungkook with your back against the trunk, watching everyone else as they talk and joke around.

You’ve often wondered how other people were surviving in this world. If everyone else was just as miserable as you, just as worried about where they were going to get their next meal or when the next wave of raiders was going to find them. But these people don’t seem to have that problem. Sure, they’re roughing it, in a sense; sure this probably isn’t how they thought they’d be spending the rest of their lives, but they aren’t just surviving in this world. They’re living.

Hobi stands up from his seat by Jimin and Seokjin holding a clear bottle filled with some sort of amber colored alcohol. He makes his way closer to the fire and takes a swig. When he stumbles a bit, Yoongi shoots a hand out and grabs the back of his shirt so he doesn’t go head first into the fire. The jerking causes him to spit the alcohol out and it sputters into the flames, creating a big fireball that quickly dissipates. The other boys whoop and clap for him, Jimin springing to his feet and reaching for another bottle on the table so he can try it next.

Jungkook lets out a chuckle beside you. “Hey Hobi,” he calls. The tipsy, dark haired boy perks up at the sound of his name. “Mind sharing some of that?”

“Aaayyyy, be my guest,” Hobi replies running over and pressing the bottle into Jungkook’s hand. “Don’t get too carried away, though. These are our only two bottles and actually they’re Yoongi’s.”

“It’s a special occasion,” Yoongi says from his place by the fire. “Drink to your heart’s content. And then Hobi can go get me more tomorrow.”

“Hey!” Hobi yells before heading back toward the table to see if he can convince Jimin to share.

Yoongi lifts his own cup which must contain more of the alcohol up to cheers and Jungkook raises the bottle in response before putting the opening to his lips and tipping his head back.

You watch the amber liquid flow down the neck of the bottle before disappearing into his mouth. His face pinches as he swallows. “That’s strong stuff,” he says with a quick shake of his head.

“I’m not really a fan of hard liquor,” you say eying the bottle.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook says. “You like to stick with the weak drinks, don’t you? Never could convince you to try anything stronger.”

“Still won’t,” you say with a smile and nudge his shoulder with yours.

“Hey, pass it here, man,” Taehyung says from your other side and you watch as the bottle passes in front of you.

He plucks the cigarette from between his lips and tosses it on the ground, crushing it with his boot before taking a swig from the bottle. “Ah, it’s like pure paint thinner,” he winces. “Come on, Y/N, you gotta try it.”

“Not after seeing your reactions, I’m not,” you say and push the bottle away as he tries to hold it out to you.

You feel hands on your arms as Jungkook pulls you back to rest against his chest. From here you can feel his warmth and heartbeat and still look at the others that took you in. That saved your life.

The bottle obstructs your view just then as Taehyung holds it out in front of you. You glance over at him and his eyebrows lift as if he’s urging you to take it. Fine. Your fingers wrap around the neck and you hold it up so the firelight reflects off the whiskey, making it look like honey.

“Here goes nothing,” you utter.

You tip the bottle back, feeling the weight redistribute as the liquid catches on the edge just before sloshing down the neck and into your waiting mouth. It definitely doesn’t taste like honey.

You’ve never tried whiskey before. Jungkook tried to get you to back in school but you always refused, liking the sweeter drinks that masked the taste but had the same effect. This is the first time you’ve tasted such a concentrated dose. It covers your tongue in a burning, furry sensation before making its way down your throat, warming all the way to your stomach. You feel your face tweak involuntarily as the aftertaste assaults your taste buds and numbs your tongue. Your throat closes and you sputter, sitting forward to cough. Both Jungkook and Taehyung let out amused laughs, though Taehyung’s is more of a chuckle and Jungkook’s is much louder.

Between the three of you, the level of whiskey in the bottle has significantly lowered by the time RM emerges from one of the cars carrying something big and clunky. As he gets closer, firelight bounces off the object like it’s made out of metal. More details become visible as your blurry vision clears.

“A boom box?” you crack.

An amused smile pulls at RM’s eyes, causing deep dimples to appear in his cheeks. Taehyung lets out a humorless cough. “What a waste of batteries.”

“Happiness is just as important for your soul as food is for you body,” RM says and puts the boom box down on the table.

“Yeah, Tae,” Jungkook says taking another swig of whiskey. Then he makes his way clumsily to his feet. “Just lighten up a little, will ya?”

RM presses a button and the night air swells with hypnotic music. Jungkook holds a hand out to you and you study it for a second, noticing the dirt that has permanently settled into the cracks and creases of his skin. Then you reach up and let him wrap his fingers around your wrist. He pulls you up, tugging you back, away from the fire and into the darkened perimeter. The others are just sitting quietly around the fire, listening to the music but Jungkook has you pressed up against him, swaying to it.

The alcohol in your system heightens your senses but at the same time, mutes your surroundings so only Jungkook and his smell and his warmth fill you. Neither of you say anything. You’re both probably still in a bit of shock over this whole situation. It’s all too surreal. You tighten your grip around his neck and press your face into the space under his jaw, relishing in the fact that there aren’t layers upon layers of clothing separating you. You’ve been living in a protective shell for the past two years now but you can actually feel Jungkook’s heart beating rapidly in his chest against your own.

“Mind if I cut in?”

You look up to find Taehyung standing just beside Jungkook. You can barely make out his solemn expression as the firelight only illuminates half his face. Jungkook cranes his neck to look at his best friend. His arm tightens around your waist protectively then he looks back at you as if to ask if it would be okay.

“Sure,” you finally utter. Jungkook keeps his eyes locked on yours as his hands slip from around your waist. You immediately wish you could take it back.

“Yeah, I think I need to drink more anyway,” he says scratching his neck. Then he walks away.

When Taehyung steps up to you, you rest your hands on his shoulders and stiffen when you feel his own hands on your hips. It’s not like he’s trying to cop a feel; in fact, he holds you cautiously as if you’re some sort of wild animal he doesn’t want to scare away.

“I didn’t know you danced, Tae,” you say trying to quell the uneasiness in your gut.

Taehyung shrugs under your hands and quirks a brow. “Maybe there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

You chuckle. “I’ve known you for five years now,” you say, your words slurring a bit. “I doubt there’s much I don’t know.”

A crooked smirk raises one side of his mouth and he lifts his eyes to look at the fire behind you. Tiny orange flames reflect in his dark irises and he bites his lip like he’s trying to decide what to say. Finally he opens his mouth. “Did you know I used to have a crush on you?”

A stream of ice water makes its way down your spine. “No, I didn’t,” you say.

“When you were delirious, you kept saying my name,” he continues.

You furrow your brow. “I did?”

Taehyung nods.

You aren’t about to tell him that for the past year you’ve been having nightmares about him. That the longer you go having these dreams, the more you miss how it used to be. The more you miss the old Taehyung. But you never liked him as anything more than your boyfriend’s best friend. As your best friend.

“I mean, I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot about how it used to be, you know?” you ask. “How everything was before…your internship.”

You feel Taehyung stiffen under your hands.

“What did happen, Tae?”

He dips his head, looking down at the space between you before stepping into you a bit more. “I…don’t remember. They did something to me…put me somewhere…where it was really dark and cold. The only thing that kept me from going insane, Y/N, was thinking about yo—”

“Can I have her back now?”

You almost audibly sigh with relief as Jungkook eyes you. Taehyung glances between the two of you then nods and steps back.

“Thanks for the dance, Y/N,” he says then shoves his hands in his pockets and trudges farther into the darkness toward the train.

You watch until he disappears down the tracks, then Jungkook puts his arms around you again and pulls you close. The dark sensation you were feeling suddenly slides away and you lay your head on his shoulder. You’re home again.

When you look over his shoulder, your eyes settle on the rest of the guys where the sit around the fire. Seokjin has started singing along to the music, making up his own words as he must not know the right ones and the others are laughing and swaying along.

Jungkook breathes in deep, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “I don’t remember the last time your hair smelled this amazing,” he sighs and you take your head off his shoulder to look at him.

“Was that supposed to be a compliment?” you ask lifting an eyebrow. A smile lifts his face.

“Yeah, I guess I have no room to talk. But you’ll have to forgive me,” he utters and buries his face into your neck before inhaling deeply again. “I think that soap was laced with mind-altering drugs.”

You chuckle and lay your head back down against his chest. The slow song begins to melt into another. This one isn’t as slow but still hypnotic. Jungkook’s hands slide from the small of your back, across your sides and then rest on your hips. Your bodies sway together to the music and you close your eyes, wishing you could just live this night for the rest of your life. Jungkook lifts his head and touches his forehead to yours. When you open your eyes again, his are staring into yours and you can’t help but smile. You’ve been doing so much smiling all day. You wouldn’t be surprised if you wake up with a sore face in the morning.

Jungkook’s breath tickles your lips. “I know the last few years have been rather…suckish,” he mutters to you. “But I wouldn’t trade a minute if it meant I couldn’t be with you.”

In response, you close the tiny gap and press your lips against his. You feel his own mouth curve into a smile and he brings his hands up to rest on either side of your face. The music and the sounds of the others start to fade away until only the two of you remain, standing in the field, your bodies melting together.

Something like a moan rumbles in the back of Jungkook’s throat as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, digging his fingers into your freshly cleaned hair. You feel a spark ignite in your chest as your hands clench his t-shirt. You wish it wasn’t there.

Then you hear a burst of laughter and suddenly, you’re back in reality. You pull away from Jungkook as heat creeps up your neck.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jungkook whispers raggedly though doesn’t give you a chance to agree—which you do, whole heartedly—before pulling you back toward the train. You run down alongside the tracks until you get to a car that’s far away from everyone else’s. Jungkook pulls you up into it and you slide the door closed.

Rust has chewed a hole in the roof and the stars shine bright above you, finally freed from their polluted cage of acid rain. You haven’t seen them in so long. You almost forgot they existed. But there they are, winking down at you as if they’ve shared the secrets of the world with you.

In the pale blue light, you can just make out Jungkook’s face, leeched of color. When he kisses you again, you can still taste the whiskey on his tongue. Your hands roam under his shirt and you break the kiss to lift it over his head. You have to stop and remind yourself to breathe because the sudden sight of his bare torso makes your lungs freeze up. Slowly—because you’re afraid that, along with everything else, he’s going to disappear—you reach out and put your hand on his chest.

It’s been two years since you’ve seen him like this. Two years of hiding behind layers, only ever taking them off to clean yourselves and only ever doing it a certain way so if there was ever an intrusion, you wouldn’t have to waste time getting dressed again. For two years, you’ve been robbed of the warmth of skin against yours. Only ever getting your fix with stolen kisses, observed out of the corner of Taehyung’s eyes. You were never truly alone. But now there’s no one else but you and Jungkook. And for the first time in two years, you’re really touching him. His bare arms, his chest, his back. You’re tracing the freckles on his skin, feeling the goosebumps appear beneath your fingertips. The ridges of his stomach muscles, the curves of his hipbones.

He takes your face in his hands and lifts your head so you meet his eyes through his dark bangs. “What’s wrong?” he whispers and brushes a thumb against your cheek.

You didn’t realize you’d started crying.

“Nothing is wrong,” you say. “Absolutely nothing. Everything is perfect.”

Jungkook studies you for a moment before his face finally smoothes back out. Then his eyes trail down to your lips and with a shaky breath, he pulls you into him.

You don’t know what time it is when you open your eyes the next morning but the sky is an unyielding ceiling of blue through the hole in the roof of the train car. Another perfect day.

You roll onto your side so you can watch Jungkook. You used to watch him sleep under the harsh glare of the fluorescents where you slept at the lab or by the ghostly, gray light of the polluted Seoul sky, but now the sun reaches into the car like a golden hand and rests on him, making his skin glow and his dark hair shine. He looks like an angel and you feel like you’re in Heaven.

Something like a moan escapes his throat as his nostrils flare and one of his dark eyes cracks open so he can squint at you. His lips curl into a sleepy smile. “Hi,” he rasps.

You feel the corners of your own mouth tug upward. “Hi,” you whisper.

The clattering and laughter of the others out in the field cause both of you to get up, get decent and make your way outside. Everyone else is already up and a fire rages in the pit.

“It’s about time you two got up,” Hobi calls from the stump he sits on.

Jungkook rubs his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. “What time is it?”

Hobi shrugs. “Who knows anymore? But we’ve all been up for a while so I’d call that sleeping in.”

Before you realize they were missing, Jimin and RM come out of the woods, each carrying a couple small, dead animals.

“Breakfast?” you ask Yoongi, who sits at the table wiping down a handgun.

“Breakfast?” he retorts with a chuckle. “Try lunch.”

Your cheeks get hot and you make your way silently over to the table and sit down across from him, Jungkook sitting beside you.

“How are your hands doing?” Yoongi asks without looking up from the dull gray weapon in his grip.

Your eyes fall to your hands. “Uh…good.”

“You probably don’t need the bandages anymore,” Seokjin says from the other end of the table. He, once again, stands over the camper stove, this time with a beat up looking frying pan sitting on top.

“You think they’ll be okay without them?”

The words barely leave your mouth when something furry and very much dead lands on the table in front of you. With a gasp, you shoot up out of your seat. It’s not like dead animals gross you out but the sudden occurrence of one dropping onto the table in front of you pulled the shriek from your throat before you could catch it. Of course, no one else knows that and now the witnesses are caught in fits of laughter. From behind you, Jimin holds his stomach and giggles silently, his eyes shut tight. Obviously he’s the culprit.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” RM says between his own bouts of laughter. “It’s not going to come alive again and attack you.”

“Zombie squirrels!” Hobi pipes in from over by the fire. “Now that would have made for a good apocalypse.”

“Nuclear war wasn’t exciting enough for you?” Yoongi asks with an amused smirk.

“Nah. It’s been done before. Planet of the Apes, The Day After, Terminator. Heck, even Star Trek took place after a nuclear holocaust.”

Jungkook’s eyes meet yours and widen. “You really know your stuff,” he says to Hobi even though he’s still looking at you. Finally, another person for him to nerd out over movies with.

“Does it really matter?” Seokjin asks from the stove. “The world is crap, most everyone is dead and you’re thinking about how much cooler it would’ve been if zombies wiped us out instead?”

“Squirrel zombies,” Jimin corrects him.

If looks could kill, Seokjin would have incinerated him right there.

“Better watch it, Jimin,” RM says, clapping a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder. “One of these days he’s gonna crack and pummel you to a pulp.”

“Nah, Seokjinnie loves me too much,” Jimin replies then reaches between you and Jungkook to retrieve the thankfully dead—not undead—squirrel. Then he looks at you. “I really didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I wasn’t scared,” you crack which makes Jimin’s eyes crinkle again in amusement.

You didn’t realize you’d gone for your knives when you’d initially bolted up from your seat and now your hand begins to ache where it grasps the hilt of one tightly. You pull it easily from its sheath and tilt the blade to catch the sunlight. Taehyung isn’t anywhere in sight but if he was, you imagine he’d give you some sort of look saying you should keep practicing so you don’t get rusty or whatever. You never see him practicing his shooting. Then again, he isn’t here so where is he?

“Hey Jungkook,” RM says, “Want to help me find more firewood?”

Jungkook gives him a nod then turns to you. “Wanna come?”

“Nah,” you say. “I’m going to go practice throwing some more.” Taehyung’s smug expression haunts your thoughts. “Gotta stay sharp,” you add.

Instead of commenting, he leans down to give you a quick kiss on the cheek before following RM toward the bend in the tracks. You watch him go, memories of the night before coming once again to the forefront of your mind.

This time instead of going along the tracks, you decide to make your way through the woods. The sound of birds and the chittering of bugs is still so foreign to you after two years of silence. It’s captivating. It drowns Taehyung’s voice out in your head. Dissipates his taunts, low and murky like oil spilling from that smile of his. You miss his old smile. The one that lit up his eyes and made his whole face glow. Now it seems there’s only ever emptiness in those dark eyes. You shudder as the summer wind rustles your hair and tickles the back of your neck.

It’s been so eerily quiet in Seoul for the past few years. Only the occasional dog fight in the distance or the sound of the acidic rain pounding against the buildings interrupted the silence. Other than that, it was just conversations between the three of you that kept you from going insane.

The world was never meant to be silent.

You don’t realize how important noise is to a person’s mental state until it’s suddenly gone. Especially in Seoul where the hustle and bustle of the big city was a constant. The traffic, the people; on foot, on bikes, on their cellphones.

After the bombs went off, it was like the earth had taken a deep breath and held it. Now two years later, you’re still waiting for it to exhale.

A bird caws and flies out from a tree somewhere above you, rustling the branches and causing you to jump. Your heart jolts at the sudden movement and you lift your eyes to take in your surroundings. Where once you could see the tracks through the trees, you now only see more woods. You’ve gone further than you thought along the path.

“Oops.”

Everything looks the same. You couldn’t have wandered too far off, then again, you tend to lose track of time when you get caught up in your thoughts. Your eyes scan the forest as you spin in a slow circle until they land on a tree. The bark at just your eye level looks like it’s been hacked at with any number of weapons. Gouges, holes and splintered bits pepper the trunk as if this particular tree has been used by many as a target. You take one more look around. No one else seems to be nearby. This is as good a place as any for some throwing practice.

After emptying your holsters the first time around, you make your way over to pull the knives back out of your target. A narrow path leading straight to the tree has been worn into the ground from others doing the same thing you are. The bark is weak and soft so your blades have sunk pretty far in. It takes a bit of work to wiggle them back out but after a few good yanks they come free.

“I figured it wouldn’t take long for you to find this place.”

You spin around, knife at the ready, but catch yourself just before sending it flying into Jimin’s chest. He steps back with raised hands.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” You let out a heavy breath and lower the knife. “No, it’s okay,” you say. “I was just practicing.”

Jimin smiles and runs his fingers back through his orange hair. “Seems like you do that a lot.”

“Gotta stay sharp.”

He nods in agreement then looks down at his feet and toes the dirt with his boot. He has a bow and a quiver of black arrows slung across his back.

You make your way back to your place facing the target and square your shoulders. After letting another couple knives go, you glance over at Jimin. He hasn’t said anything else and now he leans against a tree, glancing at you a little awkwardly. Maybe he isn’t used to the silence, especially with how loud the other boys are. You, on the other hand, are used to the silence and concentrate better in it. Though him watching you is really starting to get under your skin.

“Want to practice with me?” you finally ask.

Jimin gives you a grateful smile then pushes off the tree and takes the bow from across his back. He comes to stand next to you and you watch as he takes an arrow from his quiver and strings it. You barely blink and suddenly, the arrow is twenty feet away, buried deep in the trunk of the target tree.

“So what’s your story?” he asks you.

“My story?”

“Like what were you doing before all this happened?” It seems like he’s not only waiting for your answer but for you to take your turn as well. You throw your blade sloppily and it sticks near the base.

All of a sudden your mind is blank. You have to stop and try to think of what life was like before crap hit the fan. It’s weird how something can be totally comprehensible in your mind yet you can’t put it into words. Something will make perfect sense to you but when you try to say it, all you get in return is a confused look.

“Jungkook and Tae and I are from Busan,” you finally say. “Tae went to do an internship in Seoul for Bang Pharmaceuticals and—”

“Aren’t they the ones that started this whole mess?” Jimin asks lowering his arrow to look at you.

You shift uncomfortably on your feet. “Yeah, we didn’t know they were developing the The Virus. Tae didn’t know either. At least I don’t think he did.”

“What do you mean?”

You fiddle with one of your knives and bite your lip, trying to organize the thoughts that clutter your mind. “Well, when he started his internship, we would still like text and Skype and stuff. But then about a month in, he told us he thought they were doing something shady and wasn’t really sure he wanted to continue the internship. The idea was that he was going to tell them he’d be dropping out of the program the next day. And then, that was the last we heard from him until after…” you look around. “…all this happened.”

Jimin seems completely enthralled now, ignoring the bow and arrow in his hands, his body turned toward you as he listens intently. “So how’d you find each other again?”

“Jungkook and I left Busan and went to Seoul to search for Tae. We eventually found him but he was…different.”

“You mean he hasn’t always been such a creeper?” he asks realigning his bow with the target. The arrow hits the tree and he looks at you again.

You smile sadly and look up to meet his eyes. “No,” you say. “He used to be warm. He had a way of making anyone he talked to feel special and loved. He liked to make people laugh.” You can feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “He had this smile that would make his mouth spread into this big rectangle and his eyes sparkle. He used to be so happy.”

“What happened?” Jimin asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” you utter. “I lost my best friend two years ago and I still feel like I haven’t gotten him back.”

“I’m sorry,” Jimin says. “That must really suck remembering how he was and seeing how he is now.”

“Yeah,” you say then sniff hard to clear your sinuses and flip the knife in your hand. You fling your arm hard, sending the blade hurtling toward the tree. It sinks to the hilt in the soft bark. “What about you?”

“I’m actually from Busan, too,” Jimin says releasing another arrow. “But I was in Gwangju going to school for dance. It’s a mess over there, too.”

“It’s a mess everywhere,” you utter and slip your last knife out from under your arm.

“True.” After you each empty your arsenals, the two of you trek down the worn path to the target tree. “That’s where I met Hobi,” he continues. “His mom was one of the first in their neighborhood to die from The Virus.”

“What about your family?” you ask when the two of you are back at your throwing spot.

“I don’t have one.”

Now it’s your turn to falter. Your grip loosens too soon and the knife you threw arches up and disappears into the canopy above. The leaves rustle as it makes its way back down and sticks into the dirt a few feet away from the tree. You and Jimin are silent for a second.

“Sorry,” you finally say wiping your sweaty palms on your pants.

“It’s okay. Anyway, Gwangju was hit pretty hard but the two of us managed to catch a ride up this way with a group of some other survivors.”

“What happened to them?”

“People kept splitting off from the group. We lost a couple in an attack. Another one became too sick to walk so we had to leave him.”

You clench your hands into fists. Taehyung and Jungkook should have left you behind. You only slowed them down. It was a good thing Jimin found you instead of a raider. Or a ravager…

“We ended up wandering over here and met RM and Yoongi and Seokjin,” Jimin says. “I guess we’re pretty lucky. Hobi had a hard time seeing it that way. It took him a long time to recover after losing his mom. She was all he had left.”

“It can be hard to find the silver lining,” you say.

When you look at Jimin again, his eyes glitter and the corners of his mouth are curled up into a knowing smirk. “Is Jungkook your silver lining?”

You dip your head as you feel your ears heat up. “I guess,” you whisper and twirl the hilt of another knife in your palm. “What about you?”

“The rest of the guys have become my best friends. Closer than that,” Jimin says. “More like brothers. They’re the family I never really had.”

You throw your blade and it clips the side of the trunk, slicing off a big chunk of bark before falling to the ground. A disappointed sigh escapes before you can stop it.

The evening brings with it a warm wind smelling like grass and pine. Crickets chirp from somewhere outside the glow of the fire and the stars overhead seem to shine brighter than you’ve ever seen. They look so close, like you could reach up and scatter them with your fingertips.

You’re sitting with Jungkook and Taehyung against the tree again, away from everyone else. You’ve been fiddling with one of your knives, absentmindedly twirling it between your fingers then stabbing the blade into the ground up to the hilt without really noticing when Taehyung leans against your shoulder. It causes you to snap out of your thoughts.

“It looks like you got your groove back,” he says.

“What are you talking about?” You didn’t used to mind Taehyung’s lack of awareness when it came to personal space but now it just makes your skin crawl.

“You seem to be handling the knife pretty well again.”

“Were you ever worried?” you ask. You feel Taehyung shrug against your shoulder then he digs into his pocket and pulls out yet another cigarette and lights it with a plastic lighter. You managed to whittle a pretty decent sized hole in the earth without even realizing it and now you scrape at the loose dirt to cover it back up. “Well, you shouldn’t be,” you say. “I can take care of myself.”

Taehyung lets out a short bark of a laugh under his breath. “Right. You proved that perfectly by letting your hands almost rot off.”

You cut a new hole into the ground next to the other one as you bite your tongue to keep from lashing out at him. Surely, that’s what he would want anyway and there’s absolutely no way you’re giving Taehyung what he wants. Jungkook stirs on your other side and his fingers intertwine with yours.

“Stop being a jerk, Tae,” he says then gives your hand a sympathetic squeeze.

You slip your hand back out of his and get up, brushing the back of your pants off. “I think I’m going to go figure out where I’m supposed to sleep.”

It takes you a second to spot Yoongi. He’s sitting on a rock, his attention fixed on the fire as his hands expertly disassemble then reassemble his handgun. As you make your way toward him, you can hear Jungkook and Taehyung bickering behind you. Surely, Jungkook is getting on him about being nicer to you but you spent the last two years with this new Taehyung. It seems like a lost cause at this point.

“How was your second day of consciousness?” Yoongi asks when he notices you approaching him.

You shrug. “It was alright,” you say then catch yourself. “But, seriously, thank you for everything.”

Yoongi’s lip twitches and his dark eyes sparkle in amusement. “Well, we couldn’t just leave you to the looters, you know.”

“Looters?”

Yoongi stands up. “Yeah, those idiots that think they’re entitled to our stuff. What do you call them?”

You glance around as several other pairs of eyes stare back curiously. “Uh,” you stammer. “We’ve always call them raiders.”

“Raiders?” Seokjin asks from his place near the table. “This isn’t Fallout.”

“Well it kind of is.”

“Aish, shut up, Hobi,” Jimin says with a playful whack.

Hobi shrugs and cracks a smile. “Raider sounds so much cooler though.”

The fire finds an air pocket in a log and pops loudly causing everyone to jump at the sound. Yoongi stands up then and grabs a flashlight off the table. “Let me show you around a bit more,” he says and starts toward the train. “Jungkook and Taehyung got their tour the other day.”

Before following after him, you throw a glance at Taehyung. His lips curl into a smile and he winks just before placing his cigarette back between his teeth. You turn away quickly and follow after Yoongi.

“Alright,” Yoongi says as you near the train. It’s a dark, ominous ghost sitting there on the rusted tracks and for the first time, you wonder how long it’s been waiting here alone before these people found it. “This front one is our weapons car,” he says and pulls a key out from under his shirt. You watch as he slips the cord it hangs on from around his neck and unlocks the sturdy looking padlock. Once the key is back around his neck, he heaves the door open. It slides to the side with a loud, creaky rumble.

When he clicks the flashlight on, the dark cave floods with light and you have to squint. Guns, knives and weaponized melees sit in piles and stack on crudely made shelves. You spot Jungkook’s shotgun and Taehyung’s pistol on top of a short shelf close to you. Your hand goes to grip the handle of one of your knives.

“Why did you take their guns?” you ask trying to sound more curious than nervous.

Yoongi turns the flashlight back off and starts to slide the door closed. “We confiscated them as soon as we brought the three of you back here.” The door sticks and he shoves hard with a grunt, closing the last couple of feet with a resounding clang. “They haven’t asked for them back so I figure we’ll hold onto them a bit longer.” Then his eyes settle on your thigh holster and he smiles. “Don’t worry,” he says. “We won’t take your knives from you.”

Your shoulders relax as you let out a silent sigh of relief. Then you follow him on to the next car. Instead of opening it up, he just hits the side with his palm. “My room,” he says then turns to look at you. “I sleep better knowing the weapons are safe.” Then you continue in the same way down the tracks. The shower car is next, followed by the one holding their food and supplies. Yoongi opens that one up revealing more cobbled together shelves stacked high with cans and boxes and bags of things they’d accumulated from the surrounding areas.

“A couple of us go on supply runs a couple times a month. Looks like I’ll need Jin and Hobi to restock a few things,” he says and pokes at the almost empty sack of potatoes near the door with his flashlight.

You move on to the next car. “Here’s the infirmary car.” Then he turns to you and smiles. “But you already knew that.”

Of course you did. You apparently spent your first two days there. Next is the common area, only ever used when the weather is bad, and the ones following that are the bedrooms and then just empty cars.

The car you and Jungkook spent last night in was uncomfortably bare—though you didn’t really care at the time. “So which one is mine?” you ask wanting nothing more than to just lay down.

Yoongi seems to understand this and only holds your stare with a cocked eyebrow for a few seconds before beckoning with his head for you to follow him back the other way.

“I had Seokjin put blankets and sleeping mats in this car here,” he says stopping in front of the one just behind Jimin’s.

You utter a “thanks” and tug on the door until it finally gives. It opens with a squeal that echoes down the tracks before breaking free of the tree line and fading into the darkening sky. Three bright blue sleeping mats have been unrolled in the center of the car and a small stack of blankets sits on the middle one.

“You’re gonna miss out on RM’s music hour,” Yoongi says as you heave yourself up into the car.

“I think I’ll pass tonight,” you say and shove the blankets aside so you can slump down on the middle mat. “Sleep sounds like the most fun thing right now.” Your eyes are closed so you can’t see the face Yoongi makes but after a few silent seconds, he sighs.

“Well, alright then,” he says. “Don’t want to impede on your good time.”

Before he has a chance to shut the door, you sit up. “Yoongi, I know I already said this but seriously, thanks for everything.” Yoongi pauses with his hand resting on the handle. You study your hands to keep from meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry I’m such a downer but I’m just not used to so many people, I guess.” Finally, you do look up and he nods like he understands.

“I wasn’t either at first,” he says. “But these guys have become my family. And you’re welcome to stay for as long as you’d like.”

“Thanks,” you utter.

Yoongi gives a nod. “Well, nighty night and all that.”

“Night, Yoongi.”

He shuts the door, leaving you alone in the darkness. While the air has cooled significantly since the afternoon, it’s still a lot warmer than you were used to in Seoul so you crumple one of the blankets up and use it as a pillow, leaving your body exposed to the stagnant air that fills the car. It doesn’t take long after that for you to fall asleep.

You’re still between worlds when the door creaks open and you faintly recall hearing Jungkook’s and Taehyung’s whispers but even as you try to hear what either of them are saying, you feel yourself slipping away. You’re floating, tumbling through space until you finally land hard on the floor in Jungkook and Taehyung’s dorm…

When you wake the next morning, you’re curled in a ball with one of your knives clutched to your chest. At first you’re surprised you didn’t accidentally stab yourself in the night and then you’re filled with terror at the possibility that—while you didn’t hurt yourself—you might have hurt Jungkook or Taehyung. It only takes a second to extinguish that thought, though.

Light filters in through the partially open door so you’re able to see that Jungkook is still lying on his back snoring softly beside you. Taehyung’s spot on your other side is empty. There’s no blood on his mat or on your knife so you figure it’s safe to assume he’s fine. Though maybe a little knick wouldn’t have been a bad thing.

Your feet barely touch the gravel outside the train car when Jimin bounds up to you. “Hobi and Seokjinnie have already left on their supply run and I’m bored. Want to go hunting  with me?”

You look down at the knife still clutched in your hand at the same time Jimin does then give him a nod. “I guess I’m probably okay enough to try hunting again,” you say as Taehyung’s face appears in your mind. Don’t want to get rusty.

You haven’t really done any hunting yourself since killing that dog back in Seoul and though that wasn’t even very long ago—which blows your mind since it seems like it was ages ago—you can tell that you’re going to be spending a lot of your time retrieving your knives without an animal stuck on the other end of the blade. Jimin, on the other hand, has already collected himself a nice little stockpile of squirrels and birds, enough that the bag slung over his shoulder is too full to add any more. You look down at your own empty sack, a knot forming in your stomach.

“So, what were you going to school for?” Jimin asks obviously trying to distract you.

You shrug. “I switched majors a couple times while I was there but I never really figured out what I wanted to do. Jungkook and Tae seemed to have their lives set from the get-go.” Just then the two of you freeze as you hear rustling in the bushes ahead of you. You crouch down, slipping a knife from its sheath. Of course, at that moment, whatever animal it was that was hanging out in there decides to dart away in a flash of gray fur and you straighten back up with a sigh. “Jungkook was an art major and Tae wanted to get into pharmaceuticals,” you continue. “It was his dream to follow in his father’s footsteps. To help people. He really was a good guy.”

“Sounds like it,” Jimin says.

Another louder rustling comes from behind you, this time sounding like something much larger than an animal is approaching and at a much quicker pace, and you whirl around. A few seconds later, Taehyung bursts into view, anger glowing like fire in his dark eyes. “Where’s my gun?” he snaps.

“Speak of the devil,” Jimin utters as he lowers his bow then straightens up. “How would I know?” he asks loudly with a shrug. You’re a little surprised that Taehyung’s anger isn’t affecting him—then again, he seems to bicker with Seokjin a lot.

Taehyung stabs a finger at him. “You were the one that shot me with an arrow. When I woke up, my gun was gone. You took it. Where is it?”

Why does he suddenly need it so badly? You step in front of Jimin. “Tae—”

“Shut up, Y/N,” he growls then turns to Jimin again. “Where is it?”

Now he crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, if you’re going to cop that kind of attitude, you’ll never get it back.”

“You’re attacking the wrong person, Tae,” you say. “You want your gun back, talk to Yoon—”

“Y/N,” Jimin quickly cuts you off. When you look at him, he shakes his head no.

Suddenly, motion behind Taehyung has you shifting your focus to the trees surrounding you. Everything looks still, at first. Then the branches shutter and a tree shifts, morphing into the shape of a man.

“Tae, get down!” you scream.

After two years of fighting together, you’ve learned to follow each other’s orders without hesitation. Because of this, Taehyung dives to the ground just barely avoiding your knife, which buries itself to the hilt in the soft spot between the ribs of the masked man behind him. As soon as the raider’s back hits the dirt, Taehyung swivels on his foot and snatches a rusted machete out of his slackened hand.

Already a dozen more raiders have flooded into the clearing. Jimin launches arrow after arrow at the oncoming horde while Taehyung rushes forward, connecting blade to flesh at lightning speed. It doesn’t take long for you to get down to your last knife and then you leave Jimin’s side to join Taehyung in combat.

The searing heat of sharp metal cuts across the back of your thigh and you spin to face your aggressor. White-hot pain renders you blind for just a second but it’s long enough for the raider to throw a fist and crack it across your cheekbone. You go down hard and the air escapes your lungs before you can catch it. You roll over quickly and watch through a haze as the raider draws back his knife. Then with a flash of honey colored hair and pale skin, he’s thrown away from you. Without a word, Jimin grabs your wrist and pulls you to your feet before planting an arrow in another raider’s chest. Several ear-shattering shots ring out.

When your vision has finally cleared, bodies clutter the ground and you and Jimin stand there, shoulders heaving as you try to catch your breath. Taehyung rolls to his feet and swipes the back of his hand across his bloodied bottom lip.

“I want my gun back,” he says before turning and starting back down the path he came.

Only now do you realize that Yoongi is there too and immediately you remember the flash of light hair and the gun shots. How did he get there so quickly? He puts a hand on Taehyung’s chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“You’ll get your gun back when you’ve earned it,” he says, his voice low, his gaze piercing.

Taehyung glances back over his shoulder, locking his eyes with yours for a second before stepping around Yoongi and disappearing down the path. Yoongi looks at the two of you and gives a small smile before hefting his gun in his hand and turning to follow Taehyung back toward the field.

“I should probably go talk to him,” you utter as you put your knives back in their sheathes.

“Just don’t mention anything to him about Yoongi having the key to the weapons car,” Jimin says toeing a dead raider. Then he looks back up at you. “We don’t need more trouble from him.”

With a guilty nod, you trudge off down the path after Taehyung. It takes you jogging to finally spot him ahead of you.

“Kim Taehyung!” you yell after him.

He doesn’t stop so you pick up your pace to catch up with him.

“Hey,” you growl when you finally reach him. You grab the sleeve of his shirt and spin him around to face you. When he does, his glaring eyes meet yours. “Yoongi and the others have been nothing but nice to us. You can’t talk to him the way you did.”

“Like hell they have,” he barks back. “Maybe they’ve been nice to you because you’re a girl and they probably haven’t seen one in a year but I feel like a prisoner here.”

You clench your fists at your sides. How dare he assume something so shallow about these boys that have been nothing but generous to all of you? “Why do you even need your gun?” you ask. “You obviously can handle yourself just fine without one.”

“Why do you need your knives?” Taehyung asks and closes the space between you till his breath is hot on your face. “Want me to take those and see how you feel?”

You step back. “Don’t you dare touch my knives.”

Taehyung towers over you still and suddenly you feel like the blades at your side wouldn’t be enough if he decided to try anything. You bite down hard until your jaw aches but you continue to hold his gaze, refusing to back down as he tries to intimidate you. You search his dark eyes for any trace of your old best friend but it’s as if you’re looking at a stranger. Those eyes hold no familiarity for you. It’s like there’s nothing left of him in there. At last, you feel your body relax, your eyes turning down in sadness.

“What happened, Tae,” you finally whisper. “Where’d my best friend go?”

You see his steely composure crack for a split second, his eyes widening and he takes a jolting step backward.

“Y/N!”

You and Taehyung turn at the same time to see Jungkook jogging toward you down the path. He steps between the two of you and put his hands on your arms. “Yoongi just came back and said there was an ambush, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say breathlessly. Why are you trembling. Your eyes dart past Jungkook’s shoulder to Taehyung standing behind him.

Jungkook turns too. “You?”

“Just peachy,” he says then turns away.

The two of you watch Taehyung as he digs his hands into his pockets and trudges away again. When he’s out of sight, Jungkook turns back to you, his brow still furrowed with concern. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks, though you aren’t sure he’s talking about the raider attack anymore.

“Yeah,” you say. “I think so.”

Dinner that night is delicious, served by these people that took you in. And of course, you can barely keep yourself from licking the plate clean. Hobi and Seokjin still aren’t back yet from their supply run but according to Jimin, they won’t be back until tomorrow morning anyway. Yoongi took over the cooking for the day and, while Seokjin seems to have a special touch, the food is still good.

Jungkook shifts closer to you on the log you sit on until you can feel his bare arm brush your own. You still can’t believe how warm it is here compared to the biting cold of Seoul. It makes you wonder what’s going on there right now.

What happened to Bang Pharmaceuticals after you hightailed it out of there? Was it overtaken by raiders? Were they there now, eating your food, sleeping in your beds?

You shudder causing Jungkook to lean in even closer. When you look up at his face, his eyes bear a worried look.

“I’m fine,” you crack quietly enough so no one else can hear you.

He doesn’t look convinced.

Finally, you get up. “I think I’m going to go to bed,” you say glancing around the circle. Jimin gives you a small smile and you should return it but all you can think about is getting to your train car and cutting yourself off from the rest of the world.

As you lay there on your mat in the darkness, you can’t shut your brain up. No matter how hard you try, memories keep forcing their way out of the depths of your mind. Memories of your college days, mostly of Jungkook and Taehyung and your late night antics. Study sessions turned into midnight food runs, One Piece marathons turned into wrestling matches, you miss it all. You miss how things used to be. You miss your best friend with all your heart. The sound of his genuine laughter is already fading from your mind. And as your eyelids begin to droop, you find yourself welcoming the nightmare that you know is waiting for you on the other side of consciousness. You don’t care about the pain or the terrible ending. You just want to relive the memories. You just want to see your best friend again.

[ragewerthers]

S’more Than He Can Handle

Summary: What happens when Ignis enjoys s'mores for the first time in his life?

More than what the boys can handle.

A/n: This was for day two of Summer Gladnis Week 2019 and I chose 's'mores'! This one I didn't have a solid plan for and it just sort of warped into this, haha!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20252452

Happy reading! :D

Word Count: 1199

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

Perhaps one day they would all look back on this and laugh?

To be fair it was pretty humorous and definitely not something anyone had been expecting.

Ignis Scientia… a man renowned for his poise, stoicism elegance...  a man whose blood was 82% Ebony… was on a sugar rush.

And no one was safe.

It had all started when Prompto suggested that they make s’mores while they camping on their trip to Altissia.

Noct had been up for it immediately and Gladio was always game for anything that involved food.

Ignis had been a hard sell.

“Come on, Iggy!” Prompto whined as they made they shopped a small gas stations wares.  “Sometimes you just gotta eat something with no nutritional value and just enjoy yourself!” Prompto said, practically hanging off the Adviser’s arm as he held a bag of marshmallows and debated putting them in their basket.

“Yeah, come on, Specs.  Live a little,” Noct teased as well.

Gladio couldn’t help chuckling as he watched Ignis turn to him almost pleadingly.  The Shield merely shook his head with a fond smile.  “I’m with the squirts.  S’mores are always welcome in my book,” he said lightly and Ignis couldn’t suppress a sigh at being outvoted.

“Alright fine.  We’ll have s’mores this evening after dinner,” he warned, adding the marshmallows to the basket and noticing that graham crackers and chocolate bars had already been added while he’d been distracted.

Prompto gave a whoop of joy.

“Deal!  But… can we have something not on bread this evening?” he asked.  “Because if I have to listen to Gladio say ‘sun’s out, buns out’ before making another hotdog I’ll lose it.”

“Hey!  That’s hilarious and you know it!” Gladio argued and Ignis couldn’t help chuckling.  Before long all the items were bought and they were settled back at camp.

As promised, dinner was enjoyed first and then Ignis had gathered up the ingredients for the s’more goodness.

The guys had already gone and collected sticks to cook their marshmallows on, even grabbing an extra for Ignis.

However, as they each started to roast the puff of sugar, Ignis seemed content to just sit back and enjoy an evening coffee.

“Uh, babe?  Aren’t you gonna make a s’more?” Gladio asked as he glanced over at the man.

Ignis offered a little smile and shook his head.  “You go ahead.  They’ve never really appealed to me,” he said simply as he sipped his coffee and set it down beside him.

Gladio narrowed his eyes at that.  “You tellin’ me… you’ve never had a s’more?” he asked, watching as Ignis sat up a little straighter.

“Perhaps,” he said simply with a shrug, not realizing he’d just rocked his boyfriends world in a way he’d never expected.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

And then the fateful words were spoken.

“You have to try at least one, Iggy.  Come on.  For me?”  The question was punctuated with a small pout and puppy dog eyes that the other two had learned not to mock for fear of noogies that would lead to early baldness.

Ignis held out for all of two seconds before sighing and smiling gently.  “Alright.  One bite and that’s it.”

Oh if they’d only known what would happen.

One bite had led to two… which led to two full s’mores… which led to four s’mores.

Now they were watching as Ignis buzzed around the campsite, talking about ancient Solheim, the intricacies of Cactuar mating cycles and how best to repair holes in socks all in the same sentence.

“Noct…. I’m scared,” Prompto whispered with wide eyes as Ignis put three marshmallows onto a stick to roast, his hands trembling as a manic grin spread across his face.

Noct could only nod, never having seen his Adviser like this before.

Luckily they had Gladio there to hopefully talk the man down from his sugar high before he started trying to teach them the names of the Lucian Kings again… in song.

“Hey… Iggy?  Babe?  I think you’ve had enough,” Gladio said gently, resting a hand on his partners forearm and noticing the way Ignis’s eyes stayed focused on the marshmallows.

“Whatever do you mean, Gladiolus?” Ignis asked, his words moving so quickly they almost tripped over one another.  “Did you know that the best rate at which to cook sugar is at a temperature of 340°F to reach optimal caramelization?!  Carmal… car… CARS!  Did you know that the model of Regalia that we currently drive is actually based off of an older model that was taken off the market… market… OH!  Did you see what they were selling in the Lestallum market the last time we were through?  I believe the spice vendor may be attempting to...”

At this point the marshmallows were on fire as Ignis continued to twirl them in the flames like a man possessed and Gladio knew he had to take action.

“Is that right?  I had no idea!  That’s insane..,” he answered each manic question as he slowly managed to get the stick out of Ignis’s hands and toss it completely into the fire and out of his reach.

Ignis was so focused on his topics that it actually took him a moment to realize he no longer had anything to spin, his eyes focusing on the charred remains of his would be s’more disappearing into the flames.

“... my ‘mallows,” he murmured like a child who had lost his favorite toy and if that wasn’t the single most endearing thing Gladio had ever seen he didn’t know what was.  There would be time to think on that later though.  Right now, he had to look after his boyfriend.

Gladio soothed a hand against his back, a sympathetic smile on his face.  “Hey… it’s okay, Iggy.  Why don’t we get you into the tent, yeah?  Then you can tell me more about the spice vendor in Lestallum,” he offered, helping a trembling Ignis to stand.

Without the allure of another s’more the sugar seemed to be slowly making its way out of his system. He stood up on slightly wobbly legs, allowing himself to be led toward their tent.

“I think he’s adding filler to his ingredients…,” Ignis mumbled though the speed in which he’d been talking before was almost down to a slower level.

“Is that right?” Gladio soothed as they ducked into the tent.

“... I’m gonna say something.”

“Iggy you don’t gotta..,”

“Well someone should say something!”

“Okay, okay!  Next time we’re in town we’ll say something.”

As the tent flap closed behind them, Prompto and Noct waited with bated breath.

Soon the talking turned to sleepy mumbles… and finally the mumbles turned into soft snores.

A few seconds later Gladio popped his head out, pointing at the younger two.

“Either toss everything into the woods, the lake or the fire, but make sure nothing remains of those things,” he warned in a loud whisper.

Jumping into action, Noct and Prompto quickly rid the campsite of the treats before declaring the area an Ignis safe space.

Perhaps one day they’d look back on this and laugh, but one thing was for sure…

Never again would s’mores be on the menu.