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peachy-panic · 9 months

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This Could Be The Moment

This is it. The chapter I’ve been fist-fighting for weeks. This was one of those moments that was in my brain since the original conception of Do No Harm, so naturally there’s a lot of internal pressure to get it right. I hope I’ve done it some justice for y’all.

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-adjacent, ongoing sleep deprivation, nightmares, PTSD, the most fucked up of headspaces, whumpee fearing caretaker, noncon kissing, nudity, two survivors of trauma navigating some messy, messy waters

Jaime wakes in a cold sweat.

His first instinct is, as always, to look toward the bedroom door. Where moments ago there was a vivid silhouette against a backlit hallway, lurching toward his bed, there is now only a closed door. The house beyond it is still and silent, and Jaime is alone. As always, the only looming monster in the vicinity is his own imagination.

He closes his eyes, trying to catch his breath. It’s routine by now, but even after so much repetition, the physical toll never seems to lessen. The bed sheets beneath him are soaked through, his hair matted to his forehead in clumps. Jaime sits up, peeling the soiled nightshirt from his body and tossing it into the laundry basket.

He rolls out of bed, knowing there is no point in trying to steal a few more hours. Some nights, he gets lucky enough that the exhaustion wins out over the lingering anxiety and knocks him out. But most nights, his only solace is a hot shower while he waits for the sheets to dry. It doesn’t do much to quash the crawling sensation under his skin, but it’s a few less minutes spent tossing on a mattress and watching the slow approach of daylight through the curtain.

Blinking away the last remnants of sleep, he drags himself silently to the bathroom. He cranks the faucet to the hottest setting and forces his body under the flames.

As the water runs through his hair and scorches lines down his back, Jaime finds himself swaying. Crumbling. He doesn’t cry easily these days, but he feels the burn of frustration building behind his eyes. How long can he sustain this? How long can he wait out what feels like the inevitable?

It feels so much like those first few terrifying weeks at the training facility, where sleep was a commodity earned through acts of submission. The deprivation was torture then, and it’s torture now. This house is nothing like the cold, cement walls of that prison, and Sebastian is nothing like Handler Smith, but the fear is the same. He can’t seem to separate the feelings in his head.

At least in the facility, and even with the Keepers from his past, Jaime had learned what to expect. And he never had to wait long to find out for sure.

In the daylight, things with Sebastian have begun to crawl, slowly, toward a better place. The two of them have found routine in the small things: morning runs around the neighborhood, cooking sessions in the evenings, movie binging on the weekends. It is, objectively, the best living situation Jaime has had in years, and beyond what he could hope to have again. He recognizes this as fact. But Jaime can’t control his subconscious mind. He can’t help what comes at night.

The nightmares about Sebastian—about Sebastian touching him, hurting him—haven’t stopped. They haven’t even slowed down. If anything they’ve increased, and a vicious cycle has ramped into a hurricane: the more nightmares he has, the less sleep he gets, and the more difficult it becomes to discern reality from fiction. The nightmares get worse. The sleep becomes more sparse.

Even after a good day, Sebastian (or the shadowed version of him that exists in Jaime’s worst fears) finds him in sleep. The warm eyes that Jaime has come to recognize in the light get replaced by a cold leer, the gentle touches turned rough and demanding. The ghosts of those memories follow him into the daytime, whispering in his ear that everything Jaime so desperately wants to believe is a lie.

It’s the anticipation that suffocates him. The not knowing, but the suspecting. The when, not the if. Even when Sebastian has done everything he can to make Jaime feel safe, the guess work that goes into trying to brace for the moment when the rug gets ripped out from under him bleeds him dry of all his energy. No one has ever signed his contract with pure intentions. All kindness comes at a price.

Every day, Jaime stares at the black and white “rules” posted on the refrigerator door, listing out a dozen iterations of promises not to hurt him. Every day he watches Sebastian from the corner of his eye—when they’re in the kitchen, on the couch, in the car—and wonders if this will be the moment it happens. The moment he finally reaches out, lets his skin make contact, lets his hand linger the way it always begins in his nightmares. Jaime knows, sure as anything, that he won’t fight him when it happens. Even if his position as a Companion allowed him the space for resistance, Sebastian has been so good to him. And Jaime has done more for less deserving men.

This is the thought that plants the seed of an idea—one Jaime has never entertained. He has never been the one to initiate sex, and he wonders: if it’s going to happen anyway, would it be better under the illusion that the choice is his? He doesn’t know how he would go about it, if he ever gathered the courage to try. The thought floods him with nausea that he can’t seem to shake, but so does the waiting. Sometimes he just wonders if it would be easier to get the first time over with.

Then, at least, he will know.

He takes as much time in the shower as he can allow himself, but eventually the thought of wasting water forces him to shut off the faucet too early. He shivers in the sudden absence of the spray, but he doesn’t think it has much to do with the temperature. In a daze, he wraps himself up in one of the soft towels that Sebastian bought specifically for him. He makes his way back toward his room, but a light from the end of the hallway freezes him in place.

Sebastian is awake.

He doesn’t know what compels him to walk toward the living room, but he feels his legs moving beneath him, operating several steps ahead of his mind. He sees Sebastian before Sebastian sees him. He is on the couch, hunkered over the computer that rests on his crossed legs, and Jaime’s heart begins to race, because there it is again: that small voice in the darkest corner of his mind whispering, This could be the moment. Something has to give.

He tries to fight against it, to swallow it down, because he doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want to do this. He could turn and pad back to the relative safety of the bedroom that Sebastian has never once entered without Jaime’s explicit permission and sweat it out until daybreak like always. But then Sebastian looks up, noticing him for the first time, and the voice in Jaime’s head gets louder and louder.

This could be the moment.

“Oh. Hey there.” Sebastian smiles at him.

Something has to give.

Jaime’s fingers tighten briefly around the towel at his waist, and before he can process his next move, the idea crystallizes into a plan.

****

Sebastian scrubs the heels of his palms over his eyes, but it only seems to dry them out further. He’s been staring at his computer screen for the better part of the last two hours, and that’s on top of the work day behind him. Not that he’s complaining. The work he’s doing now is entirely voluntary, and he doesn’t regret taking it on for a second.

Aria had helped set him up. It involved a secure VPN, some protective softwares that, ironically, look like they might infect his laptop with a virus at any given moment, and a long vetting process; though Sebastian suspects it might have been a little more rigorous if their need wasn’t so urgent.

There are less than fifty doctors and registered nurses in the database who take on Companion cases across the US, and now Sebastian is one of them. It’s a fairly new system, and thankfully a growing one, slow as it might be. Mostly, the cases are a matter of remote visits: giving medical advice, diagnosing where they can, and—at the discretion of each provider—writing prescriptions. Always in the name of the unmarked person helping them. By design, it’s nearly impossible for a Companion to seek assistance or gain any amount of freedom without depending on someone on the outside.

He was surprised to find out that there were others like him; people who have purchased a contract with the intention of helping someone for as long as they can. There are others—fewer, rarer—who are like Ezra. People who have somehow broken free of the system altogether and exist under the radar. The details of those cases are always lock-and-key. Sebastian doesn’t ask, and no one seems eager to tell. Probably safer for everyone that way.

Sebastian’s patients tonight have been fairly simple ones. He was able to provide antibiotics to a young woman with an ongoing infection, sleeping pills to a man with debilitating sleep anxiety, and advice to someone else on managing their chronic pain. For the first time since graduating with his medical degree, Sebastian feels useful.

And still, it never feels like enough.

When he pulls his hands away from his face, he nearly launches out of his skin. Jaime is standing in the mouth of the hallway, hair dripping and wrapped in a towel. Sebastian hadn’t even heard the shower running through the music in his headphones.

He settles himself with a hand over his heart and smiles up at him. “Oh. Hey there.” He starts to take his earbuds out, but he is interrupted by the world abruptly shifting on its axis.

It takes a few seconds after the towel hits the floor to process what happened. What is actively happening. And then he still doesn’t understand.

Because what. The fuck.

Jaime is standing—naked—in his living room, still as a statue, with a towel pooled at his feet. Sebastian is fairly certain Jaime isn’t even aware of the silent tears tracking down his cheeks.

Calling upon every conceivable ounce of composure he can muster, he removes his headphones the rest of the way and sits forward, setting his open laptop on the coffee table. He unfolds his legs and stands, each movement pronounced and broadcast.

“Hey.” His own voice sounds far away, and far more calm than he feels. He keeps his eyes dutifully trained on Jaime’s, refusing to dip away for even a second. “Let’s just… Why don’t we just talk? Okay? Let’s… here.” Acting on the instinct to cover him up, Sebastian reaches for the zipper on his hoodie.

Across the room, Jaime’s breath hitches. His eyes pinch shut for just a second, fists clenching at his sides.

“Hey. No, no, it’s okay. I’m—” Sebastian pulls the zipper down as quickly as he can, only jamming it twice on the cloth. As soon as it’s free, he extends his arm, not daring to take a step closer, and shakes it in his direction. “It’s for you.”

But Jaime doesn’t move to take it. His pale chest heaves with breaths that are coming too fast and too short, and the glassy look in his eyes tells him that Jaime might not be all the way with him. He needs to tread lightly.

Sebastian takes a cautious step forward. “Jaime?” His eyes snap to him, wide and wet. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” When he’s within arm’s reach, Sebastian holds his sweatshirt out again, and Jaime’s gaze falls to it for a moment, before flashing back to him. He still doesn’t take it.

Sebastian is about to reiterate his assurance that Jaime is okay, that he is safe and that he is not in trouble, but before he can speak—

Jaime—

He—

Jaime’s mouth is on his.

Their lips only touch for half a second before Sebastian jerks back, but the brief contact sends a shockwave of horror through his body. It’s so much happening at once: the heat of naked skin through his clothes, wet hair dripping onto his chest, the tremble in the arms draped around his neck, but Sebastian can’t afford to panic right now. They can’t both be falling apart at once.

With all the deliberate gentleness he can manage, he reaches up and wraps his hands around Jaime’s wrists, pulling his arms from around him. They stand painfully still for several long seconds, Jaime’s arms suspended between them. The whites of his eyes jump as he searches Sebastian’s expression, utter terror written all over his own. Slowly, Sebastian lowers his grip, releasing Jaime’s hands at his sides.

“No,” the word stutters out of him. “Jaime, I… No.” He needs to find the words to elaborate, to tell him he’s not in trouble and that Sebastian’s rejection isn’t meant as a chastisement, but before he can formulate them, Jaime sinks to his knees, and a fresh pit opens in Sebastian’s chest.

“Please,” Jaime says—the first he has spoken since coming into the living room. Fresh tears leak from his eyes. “Whatever you want to do, I… it’s fine. We can do it. I… I want to.”

Unable to tolerate towering over him right now, Sebastian sinks down to one knee, then the other. Carefully, he takes the sweatshirt in his hand and drapes it over Jaime’s shoulders. “Jaime,” he says finally, “you’re crying.”

In a desperate, childlike gesture, Jaime swipes at the tears running down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he says.

You don’t have to be sorry. But it’s very clear to me that you don’t want this.”

“I can,” Jaime insists, fixing his wide, brown eyes on him. “I can learn to want it. With you. Please, just tell me what you want.”

“I…” Sebastian’s mind is speeding past him in circles, unable to land on a singular thought except the resounding question of How the fuck did we get here? Because genuinely, Sebastian had thought things were getting better. He thought things were, if not ideal, at least okay. But this… This is the furthest thing from okay.

“Did I…?” Sebastian clears his throat and starts again. “Can you tell me—did I do something? To make you think that I wanted this?”

He remembers the stilted half-conversations they had once upon a time. In the clinic, when Jaime was brought in for testing after each contract. Sebastian knows what happened to him with past Keepers. His tests may have come back negative, but Jaime had confirmed in the only way he could that he had been sexually abused. He had hoped that Jaime knew he never had to fear that from him. He realizes now how selfish that assumption was.

Jaime’s gaze breaks away momentarily. “No, but I…”

“What?” he prompts gently. “If I did something, I want to know. I’m not going to be upset with you. I just want to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

The inquisition seems to press him further into himself. He curls over, retracting into a ball before he can reach out. The notches on his spine protrude through the shirt in a trembling arch. His fingers are twisted through his hair, pulling so tightly at his roots that Sebastian has to restrain himself from tugging his hands away. Then the noise. At first it sounds like he’s choking; a desperate, clunky gasp for air where there is none. And then the sobs erupt, almost completely silent but heavy enough that his entire body convulses with the force.

And Sebastian is absolutely fucked. His heart is thumping against his ribcage like it wants to escape, his fingertips have gone numb, and the spot where their lips had briefly touched buzzes with the intensity of a fresh wound. But he can’t fall apart right now. After a moment of hesitation, Sebastian places a palm over one shoulder blade, and when he is not shaken off, he begins to rub a slow, steady circle.

“Jaime,” he tries as soon as he is sure his voice will withstand it. “I don’t know what’s happening right now. I don’t… I don’t know what to say to you to make you feel okay, but you are safe. I can promise you that. I am not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you while I am here.”

It goes on for as long as it takes Jaime’s body to exhaust itself to silence. Over the next several minutes, the sobs whither to raspy pulls for breath, and then eventually soft sniffling. Sebastian doesn’t remove his hand. When he has gone nearly silent, Sebastian makes a decision.

“Can you sit up?” he asks softly. “Please? Can you just… look at me for a minute?”

Jaime obeys the request a little too quickly. When their eyes meet, Sebastian takes a deep breath, willing his own tears to stay where they are.

“I want to talk about this,” he says. “We absolutely should talk about this. But before we do anything else… Do you maybe want to put some clothes on? We can just… we can take a minute.” God knows he could use one himself. “If you want to keep talking after that, I’ll put some coffee on and we’ll stay up and talk, for as long as you want. If you would rather go to sleep, that’s okay too. I’ll still be here for you in the morning. It’s your call. Sound okay?”

Jaime hesitates, then nods.

“Okay.” Sebastian picks up the towel between their knees and extends it to him, already turning away. Once Jaime takes it, Sebastian shuffles around awkwardly on his knees until his back is to him. “I’ll wait out here. I won’t look. Just… take your time.”

Sebastian listens to the brief silence of his hesitation, then the quiet rustle of cloth and clicking of joints behind him. He counts the soft pad of footsteps retreating down the bedroom hallway and waits for the door to latch shut before he breaks. He pulls his knees out from under him and puts his head between them, taking slow, even breaths.

Slowly, his heartbeat recedes to a sustainable pace, but his mind buzzes with the prospect of the conversation ahead of him, and his lips still burn from a kiss that never should have happened.

***

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#do no harm: jaime & sebastian #whump #whumplr #whump writing #bbu #like bbu adjacent?#this is the very chapter that inspired my now famous writing advice list #you know the one #i think i've finally wrestled it into submission tho #maybe #anyway hope you enjoy

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foreveralwaysanauthor · 8 months

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Camp Wanamaker (Ch 8/10)

September 7, 2023

Notes - I know this chapter is exceptionally overdue and I'm so sorry that it is, but my job raised my hours pretty significantly, and, with everything else going on in my already crazy life, I found it very hard to sit down and write. However, I'm hoping to get the next few chapters out as soon as possible so we can move on to bigger and better things!

Chapter 8 - Rumor Has It

The sun slowly rose over the hills of trees that surrounded Camp Wanamaker. Morning light crept across the gentle waves of the lake and the tops of the cabins, dancing across the dewy grass and making it shimmer like a million minuscule diamonds. The yellow-orange glow snaked its way closer and closer to the windows of each building, finding the cheap cotton curtains with ease. The light eventually seeped through the curtains and spilled onto the bed of a certain brunet boy, his chocolate coils woven into little knots as he struggled to get himself out of his twisted sheets while he slept.

It had been a rough night for Royce. He had just barely fallen asleep when an emergency notification about a missing child in the area rang loudly on his phone, jolting him awake as he tore out his earbuds. By the time he had finally worked himself back to the edge of sleep, it was nearing two in the morning. He wasn’t the only one who had issues with chasing sleep that night, which was made apparent as Bentley entered the room and silently joined his brother, relishing in the quiet and calm his brother’s room provided. Thankfully, they had the day to recover and relax while everyone else did as they pleased on their last day of freedom before the next group of campers arrived.

As Royce stirred, the soft rays of light filtering through his eyelashes as he slowly blinked them open, a light grumble from his side caught his attention. Glancing down, he found Bentley curled up to his side, his face buried in Royce’s shirt to avoid the sunlight coming in from the window. A notion of a chuckle left Royce’s mouth as he peered over at the clock on his nightstand. All he needed to see was the glowing, red six at the start of the number to know that his little brother wouldn’t be moving any time soon. At least, not willingly. Taking in a slow breath and sighing, Royce reached for the cell phone he had ditched on the nightstand and relaxed back onto his pillow, ready to enjoy a lazy morning.

If you asked any of the Murphy brothers, lazy mornings were reserved for Sundays anyway. Back in their home, they would usually be found lounging on the couch with bowls of soggy cereal or packets of Pop-Tarts, their eyes semi-glued to the typical weekend cartoons playing on the TV as they ate breakfast. Well, in more recent months, they had. Their old television was a crappy box model with a single dial that had only one good station while the other four were filled with either news or politics. However, after Vivien’s “stay-cation” to their world, they had grown accustomed to the hundreds of stations they could receive with the television the girl had gotten Mick’s help with making.

It didn’t take them long to realize that living at Camp Wanamaker was something else entirely. Most of the televisions available were outfitted with every app known to mankind and possessed a slew of shows nobody in the cabin had seen before - not even those who lived in the modern world. Not every cabin had a television, of course, but the ones that were home to just counselors or staff members had at least one for the cabin to share. Royce and Bentley had spent their free mornings during staff weeks in front of the TV, watching shows that Vivien and Mick had added to their watchlists. It was a good way to spend their mornings, all in all.

Just as Royce had begun searching his phone for something to keep himself occupied, Bentley shifted, slowly lifting his head from Royce’s shirt and grumbling a complaint about the sun. A yawn caught the youngest of the Murphy brothers, forcing him to stretch against the mattress as he made a noise of frustration. Flopping back down against the sheets, Bentley slowly turned toward Royce and muttered, “G’mornin’.”

“Morning,” Royce spoke softly. “Have a good sleep?”

Bentley shrugged, “Kinda.”

Royce hummed, “Do you wanna go watch the next episode of that zombie show? We can make some cereal and just chill on the couch while everyone goes to the mess hall.”

After a moment of contemplation, Bentley shook his head, “I don’t think I’m up for watching someone get their insides eaten like a bowl of zombie spaghetti jsut yet. Can I watch you play the cat game instead? You know, the one where you help the robots?”

Bentley watching Royce play games was nothing new, but it had become far more common in recent times. While Bentley loved playing games with adventure or mindless fun as the main focus, story-driven games like What Remains of Edith Finch and their newfound favorite, Stray, made it easier for Bentley to relinquish all control of the game to Royce in favor of watching him play and piecing together the storyline at his own pace. In a way, it was easier and both brothers enjoyed the time they got to spend together.

With a smile, Royce nodded as he sat up, “Sure, Benny. Why don’t you go get that started up and I’ll make breakfast.”

As Bentley sluggishly shoved the blankets away from his legs, he grinned, “Can I have Cocoa Puffs with chocolate milk?”

“Yeah,” Royce nodded. “You want your Hufflepuff mug or just a normal cup?”

Bentley snickered, “No, RJ, I mean, can I have chocolate milk in my cereal?”

Royce paused, feeling as though he had a circle swirling above his head as he processed his brother’s request. “But-” he took in a breath, “Benny, there’ll be chocolate milk at the bottom anyway if you’re having Cocoa Puffs.”

“I know,” Bentley shrugged, “but I want it more chocolatey so when I drink it after the cereal’s gone, it’s not like two little bits of chocolate and a bowl of straight milk.”

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, Royce relented, “Alright, fine. That makes sense.”

As he followed Royce to the door, Bentley smirked and asked, “Can I have a glass of orange juice to go with it? Maybe some pickles afterward?” The look of disgusted horror Royce sent in return as he whirled around made Bentley cackle, patting his brother on the shoulder as he ducked around him. Bentley had just reached the bottom step when Royce began thumping down them, rattling off about disgusting food combinations first thing in the morning and musing how someone they knew must have been pregnant if he was craving something so nasty. Bentley beamed with pride as he grabbed the game controller from the coffee table; it was mornings like these that he didn’t mind being up so early.

Vivien moved sluggishly as the rain battered against the air conditioner that stuck out of one of the music hall’s windows. Rain always made her tired and, with nothing better to do, she and Miles were stuck in the music hall, practicing guitar and fooling around with the instruments that would, typically, go unused on a day like that. To make matters worse, it was Monday. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue; however, that meant the carnival in Laconia was now officially open, and, due to the rain, they wouldn’t be able to go.

The trips to the carnival had been planned quite thoroughly. Every day, one group would be taken to the carnival for the day and return for dinner. Although most everyone at the camp wanted nothing more than to go to the carnival, the rain had come over the area overnight and the carnival grounds on the early-morning news had looked more like muddy grass soup, making it an easy decision for those at the camp to stay at the camp.

As Miles strummed a song on the guitar and hummed softly along, Vivien dropped onto the bench beside him, a yawn leaving her as she tipped her head back to look at the ceiling, “I’m so fucking bored.”

“Join the club, kiddo,” Miles chuckled, allowing his strumming to fade off as he pushed his focus onto the girl beside him.

“Does the club offer cookies?”

“Only on weekends and at club meetings.”

“Then I don’t wanna join,” she sighed.

“Too bad,” Miles teased, nudging the girl with his elbow as he set the guitar down beside his leg. “Once you’re invited, there’s no turning it down.” Vivien glanced in Miles’ direction with an amused smirk before another yawn tugged itself from her. “Tired?” he asked.

Instead of firing off a quick quip, Vivien lazily nodded, leaning closer to Miles until her head came into contact with his shoulder. “I slept fine last night, but I woke up later than normal and it’s throwing me off.”

Miles chuckled, tugging his arm from between them and bringing it around Vivien’s shoulders, “For some reason, I don’t have that problem.”

“You suck.”

“You love me.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you still suck,” Vivien muttered as she brought an arm around Miles’ back.

Allowing himself to smile, Miles gave Vivien’s arm a squeeze, “You’re such a little shit.”

“Takes one to know one.”

As rain battered against the windows, the wind rattling the glass ominously as it passed, Miles grinned. Even though they spent almost every day in the music hall, it wasn’t too often that he got to spend time with just Vivien. Normally, the music hall was filled with kids wanting to bash the drums or learn guitar, the split of interests keeping him and Vivien on opposite sides of the large room. It was times like these - the rare moments when the hall was empty and they would be able to talk or play guitar - that Miles felt an actual connection with the girl.

They had spent a few months under the same roof during Vivien’s prolonged stay in their world over winter break and he enjoyed watching her grow more comfortable around everyone he knew and loved. Once she had gotten out of the “Royce’s girlfriend” title everyone had given her and made a name for herself, Miles got to see the different sides of Vivien that he hadn’t yet found. After everything they had been through over her break, she now felt like the younger sister he never got the chance to have.

As Miles glanced up at the ceiling, wondering how long it would be before they would need to break out the buckets in the storage room to catch dripping water that penetrated through the older roof, Vivien sighed. Despite her exhaustion, her mind raced with thoughts of what they were going to do to keep themselves busy until Saturday. As one of the last groups to go to the carnival, they had to keep themselves entertained for most of the week. After a moment, Vivien glanced out the window toward where the pool would, by now, be empty. Maybe she could convince Mick to let her swim in the rain; it would beat sitting around, doing nothing while they waited for a potentially musically inclined camper to stumble through the door.

Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen much of Mick lately. Faintly, she wondered if the older girl was okay. She knew that Mick was suffering from a few health issues lately as they had talked a bit about her recent bouts of exhaustion, some pretty strong nausea, and how she had woken up with swollen ankles with no reason as to why. Maybe she had been taking things easy in the hope that everything would fix itself before the time came for the appointment she had called to schedule the day before. Though she wondered what could be happening with Mick, she had a few ideas.

Pregnancy was, of course, one of the top suspects as the nausea and swelling were common in pregnancy. However, she couldn’t be sure. After all, Mick didn’t look pregnant. She was still just as toothpick thin as always - that damned metabolism Vivien wished she possessed keeping Mick looking more lean than muscular. It could still be possible, but she couldn’t recall Mick and Butchy having the chance to sneak away to - Vivien tried not to vomit at the thought - do the deed.

Deciding she would have to bite the bullet to find out, Vivien lifted her head from Miles’ shoulder and asked, “Do you think Mick is pregnant?”

Miles’ head lilted to the side as he shot the girl a bewildered, raised eyebrow, “Where did that come from?”

“I was just thinking. You know how Mick’s been feeling off the last few days?” When Miles slowly nodded, Vivien continued, “Well, her symptoms are similar to pregnancy symptoms.”

“They are?”

With a nod, Vivien said, “Morning sickness, exhaustion, swelling, lack of period-”

“How do you know she doesn’t have her period?” Miles questioned.

Sending Miles the most bland face she could muster, Vivien deadpanned, “We’re girls, we talk about these things. But that’s not the point.”

“Right,” Miles said with a shake of his head, “so you think she could be pregnant?”

“Maybe,” Vivien shrugged. “I mean, they delayed their honeymoon so they could help here, but they’ve had the time to go out together and stuff. There’s no telling when it could have happened.”

Though Miles seemed to consider the idea, he mused, “But she doesn’t look pregnant.”

“Not everyone does,” Vivien claimed. “When Aunt Hayley had me, she didn’t show at all.”

Miles was silent for a while as he thought about all Vivien had said. It could be true. He had seen Mick behaving differently lately - constantly feeling chilly, falling asleep on the couch while watching movies, and having to step out of the mess hall sometimes because the scent was overpowering - but he hadn’t thought of pregnancy. He simply thought she was coming down with the stomach bug that was starting to pulse throughout the town.

Taking in a breath, Miles sighed, “It sounds like Mick is pregnant.”

“Well, we don’t know for sure,” Vivien said. “I can always ask her when I’ve got the chance.”

“Better you than me, kiddo.” Miles chuckled, “She’d probably rip my head from my shoulders.”

“Yeah, somehow I doubt she’d take it too kindly,” Vivien snickered.

As Miles let out a snort of agreement, the door of the music hall slammed against the frame, the wood rattling as the wind beat against it. The laughter died on Miles’ lips as he and Vivien turned toward the door, eyeing it with wide stares. “Was that the wind?” Miles breathed.

Vivien pushed herself to stand, maneuvering around the bench and walking to the door, twisting the handle before tugging it open. Rain bucketed from above and the only sign of life was a group of kids who were busy screeching as they ran up the path toward the safety of the dance studio. Leaning against it to make it click into place, Vivien turned to Miles and shrugged, “It was either the wind or a ghost.”

With a shrug, Vivien grabbed a guitar and made her way back to her seat, silently asking Miles to help her with a song she wanted to play as she sat back down. As they began working on figuring out the chords of the song Vivien had chosen, neither of them was prepared for the onslaught of chaos that the week would bring. Just down the path from the music hall, the door to the dance studio slammed open as a group of dripping campers piled in.

“What happened to you?” one of the girls asked from the far side of the large room. On one side of the room, dancers in sweatpants and leotards stretched on the floor while others practiced before the mirror. However, as the door closed once more, the group of five by the door had everyone’s attention.

“We all decided to hop in the pool after practice,” Chloe, one of the soaked campers, answered sarcastically.

“We came from the tennis courts,” one of the drenched campers - a blonde named Maxine - said as she wrung her hair out over the doormat. “We had to cut around the music hall to get here quicker.”

“And,” the only brunette from the group - Rachel - piped up, “you’ll never guess what we heard on our way here!”

If they didn’t already have the attention of those around them, they certainly did now as questions popped up throughout the room like a game of Whack-A-Mole. Stepping to the front of the group, the youngest of the campers - Alex - beamed as she declared, “Mick, the lifeguard girl who always gives us extra time to relax after swimming laps, is pregnant!”

Squeals of excitement bubbled up throughout the dance studio, a few commented on how they “just knew” she had to be, and others questioned how the girls knew, to which Chloe said, “We overheard her friends talking. You know, the girl with the long-ass hair and the boy who’s dating Carrie? They were talking about Mick being pregnant and we heard them on our way by.”

As excited exclamations passed through the room, the door to the back hallway opened and a small girl entered the room, followed soon after by Charlie, who led the dance studio every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Looking around the room, Charlie placed her hands on her hips and sighed, “Alright, everyone, calm down. If you keep this up, I’ll be having you go across the floor right off the bat.”

“But, Charlie,” one of the stretching dancers argued, “we’re talking about Mick.”

“Yeah,” another agreed. “What do you think of her being pregnant?”

“Pregnant?” Charlie repeated with a raised brow. “Where did you hear that?”

Murmured answers flitted around the room before settling as Alex spoke up, “We overheard Miles and Vivien talking about it.”

“Eavesdropping, were you?” Charlie admonished as she made her way further into the room.

“Not intentionally!” Rachel exclaimed. “We were walking by the music hall and overheard it.”

Making a mental note to talk with the pair about the situation at their next meal, Charlie sighed, “Well, that may be, but I haven’t heard anything about this, so I would advise you all to keep this to yourselves. Nobody likes having rumors spread about themselves.”

A chorus of reluctant “yes, ma’am”s filed the room and, as Charlie let out a sigh, she hoped she had squashed the rumors quickly enough that it wouldn’t spread around the dinner tables. With any luck, she’d be able to talk with Miles and Vivien before word spread too far. Usually, rumors at camp spread quietly and quickly, festering overnight into nonsense and plaguing everyone on the grounds within a day or two. If Charlie noticed it spreading much at all, she would try to find a way to sit Mick down and talk with her. She would need to prepare the girl for the onslaught of gossiping campers and concerned questions from her friends if the kids let it spread any further than it already had.

Clapping her hands together, Charlie brought herself back to the task at hand and declared, “Alright, everyone, find your place at the barre and get comfortable. We’re all going to feel the burn today.”

Despite Charlie’s best efforts, it had been impossible to find the chance to get Miles or Vivien away from everyone else before they headed to bed Monday night. She didn’t want it spreading more than she presumed it had, but Vivien was constantly with Royce and Bentley while Miles was practically attached to Carrie’s hip. They had spent the evening playing games and watching movies, giving Charlie little chance to speak her mind. When they were getting ready for bed, Charlie told Hayley about the situation. Hayley wouldn’t be able to do much to help as she was supposed to be helping in the office on Tuesday, but she promised that, if she heard anything, she would say something.

Charlie felt particularly tense at breakfast, overly focused on the noisy voices around the room as she tried to silently shield her niece’s friends from being the topic of conversation. It wasn’t until her wife nudged her, telling her the meal was over, that she finally moved, jerkily rising from her seat and disposing of the few pieces of egg that she had left on her plate. Stationed in the playhouse to help with makeup and choreography for the upcoming play, Charlie followed Carrie and Riven down the winding path to the old wooden building in relative silence.

While Riven got to work on helping set things up on stage, Charlie and Carrie headed to the storage room to dig out the makeup they would need for the day. Eyeing the blonde from her side of the little room, Charlie asked, “Carrie, you’re close with Mick, right?”

Turning toward the woman with the pink-tipped braids, Carrie shrugged with a smile, “I’d say we’re friends, but she’s closer with Miles than she is with me. Why, what’s up?”

Instead of directly answering, Charlie asked, “If Mick was pregnant, would she tell you?”

Carrie’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish as she processed the sudden question, but eventually, she said, “I definitely wouldn’t be the first person on the list - maybe not even in the top five - but she might. Why, do you think she’s pregnant?”

Glancing out the door to make sure nobody was close enough to hear, Charlie lowered her voice to a whisper and asked, “Some girls came into the studio yesterday and were telling everyone that they overhead Miles and Vivien talking about Mick being pregnant. I wanted to see if they had said anything to you about it.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Carrie said, “Like I said, I wouldn’t be in the top five, but they would be.” Carrie began counting on her fingers, “Butchy, her parents, Miles, and Vivien - I would assume those would be her top five. I can ask them, if you want?”

“No, no,” Charlie said with a shake of her head, “that’s fine. I just… I want to be careful with it regardless of whether it’s true or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Charlie began as she hefted a metal case of makeup onto her hip, “if she’s not pregnant, we can help squash the rumors now before they get out of control. But, if Mick is pregnant, we need to keep an eye on her. She’s not showing and, depending on how far along she is, that can be detrimental.”

“How so?” Carrie asked, following Charlie through the backstage storage and into the dressing rooms.

Setting the metal case on a nearby stand, Charlie sighed, “Back when Hayley was pregnant for Vivien, she never once showed. I was with her for most of the pregnancy - as a friend, at the time - and she went through hell. If Mick’s pregnant and is further along in her pregnancy, it could be dangerous for not only her, but for the baby as well.”

Carrie took in a slow breath as she soaked in the information, “Should I talk with Miles about it? See if he can tell me anything?”

“Not right now,” Charlie said. “Let him focus on music lessons. Besides, I haven’t heard anyone talking about it around camp, so I think we should be all set for now. We can talk with him and Vivien later, when they’re not busy banging around on the drums and we don’t have a bunch of makeup to sort through.”

As Charlie pulled a chair out from in front of one of the lightbulb-lined mirrors, Carrie followed suit with a hum. With the metal makeup case between them, Charlie unlatched the clasps and opened the lid before pulling out the extra trays so they could see all that was inside. Looking inside the case at all of the makeup, Carrie asked, “What are we going to do with all of this?”

Smiling at the blonde, Charlie took a lipgloss from the top shelf of the case and said, “We’re going to go through all of this and make sure it’s all still good. If something is good, we’ll try it out and make sure it still looks good. If it passes both tests, we’ll keep it. If it doesn’t, we toss it.”

Examining a tube of mascara, Carrie asked, “How are we going to check if they’re still good before we test if on ourselves?”

Charlie chuckled, “Do you see the little jar on there with a number and a letter on it?”

Carrie searched the tube before nodding, “Yeah, it says ‘6M’ on it.”

“That means it’s good for six months after it was opened.” Charlie looked for the little engraving mark on her lipgloss before setting it aside. “If it still has a wrapper or the receipt is in the little makeup bag at the bottom of the case, we’ll keep it. If not, its trash.”

“Got it,” Carrie said as she reached into the bottom section of the case and pulled out a black box. Carrie’s eyebrow raised as she read the box, “Conspiracy?”

Peering over at the younger girl, Charlie chuckled, “Oh, I remember that! Don’t throw that no matter what it says.”

Glancing up, Carrie asked, “How come?”

“It’s Vivien’s pride and joy,” Charlie claimed.

“But she doesn’t even wear makeup?” Carrie said curiously as she opened the palette.

“No, but she loves that thing,” Charlie smiled. “You see, she had watched this series online of this Youtuber guy and his friend - a makeup guru - making a palette together and that was the end product. She spent two hours waiting for it with me and Hayley, but it sold out within a half an hour. We were lucky enough to get the full set when it relaunched, but she keeps it here to keep Abby out of it.”

With a chuckle, Carrie looked over the shades and commented, “I can’t imagine she got into it at all.”

“She tried,” Charlie said, a ghost of a smile appearing as she reminisced. “She looked like a raccoon and cried before asking me for help.”

“Are you a self-proclaimed ‘makeup freak’ too, then?” Carrie asked.

“Hell yeah,” Charlie laughed. “Kind of have to be when you’re a dancer.”

“How long have you danced?”

Charlie thought for a moment before admitting, “Since I was two. My parents put me into ballet, aka the perfect breeding ground for eating disorders, anxiety, and the fear of imperfection.”

“Ah,” Carrie sighed as she set Vivien’s makeup aside and reached for something new, “been there, done that.”

Charlie set a container of powder aside and said, “You know, when I was younger it was more fun than anything, but once I was put into pointe, it was like I had stepped onto the world’s biggest slip-and-slide. One wrong move and I’d be ditched for the next best dancer.”

A sense of understanding washed over Carrie like a wave. She hadn’t felt overly close with Charlie before, but knowing they both had intense dancing backgrounds and still had lingering side effects from it, gave their budding friendship more depth. “The fear of failure is strong with every former dancer, I guess.”

Charlie hummed, “It must have been a fairly easy transition for you - going from dance to acting. The expressiveness and emotions you need to have on stage could translate well on screen, right?”

“I’d like to say so, yeah,” Carrie agreed. “Though, sometimes, I wish I could just turn my emotions off. It doesn’t take much for me to get all worked up over something small.”

“I can’t say I don’t feel the same way,” Charlie mused. “Although I find it easy to work my emotions into my books. Channeling them into something new helps force you to sort through them slower.”

Carrie thought about it for a moment before grinning, “I don’t think I could do something like that. Writing isn’t exactly my forte.”

With a shrug, Charlie said, “It’s the author in me, I suppose. However, if writing isn’t your thing, you could always try channeling it into music.” At Carrie’s skeptical gaze, Charlie smirked, “Don’t give me that face. I’ve heard you sing. You could really make something if you took the time to sit and work on it.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“And you think I did?” Charlie scoffed, “My first novel looked like a kindergartener wrote it compared to my work now. Nobody starts off great. Anyway, you could always ask Viv or Riven or even Erica for help; they all write music.”

Carrie nodded but then stalled as she reached into the makeup case. Curiously tipping her head to the side as she looked toward Charlie once more, she asked,l “I knew Riven and Erica wrote music, but since when has Vivien written music?”

“For years now,” Charlie claimed as she met the blonde’s blue eyes. “She doesn’t play them with the band muchas she can’t write the sheet music for them, but those journals of hers aren’t just filled with novel ideas. You should talk to her about it sometime. Maybe she’d show you some of her work.”

As Charlie got back to work sorting the makeup into two piles, Carrie hummed thoughtfully, “Maybe.”

“Maybe we can make a new one, but make it a bit bigger,” Carrie offered.

Bentley sighed, “And maybe I should stick with painting instead of pottery.”

As a majority of the playhouse crew had been taken to the carnival that Wednesday, Bentley had dragged Carrie to the art barn to show her his latest works while everyone else kept busy in their normal areas. His paintings, as always, were like something Bob Ross would come out with. Bentley felt at ease with painting; he could sit at an easel with a palette of colors and a set of brushes for hours without getting the least bit distracted. It was also something his brothers declared he shared with their mom - a love and natural talent for telling a story through paintings and sketches. His pottery work, on the other hand… Let’s just say that Bentley could have told everyone a seven-year-old made it and nobody would be able to tell it was his work.

The first few times Bentley had tried to make something with a mound of clay on the spinning wheel, they turned out to be understandably awful - a lopsided vase, a cracked bowl, and a statue of a dog that lost two legs and its tail in the kiln being among his efforts. However, his recent attempts appeared to turn out just the same. His first attempt at making a tea set for Mick had cracked and separated, and the potion bottle he wanted to make for Vivien’s birthday ended up getting damaged when another camper’s sculpture exploded and shattered everything inside the kiln. The mug he had tried to make for Miles was his most recent attempt and, while it still looked like a mug, it was now so small that it looked more like something Vivien would turn into a pair of earrings than it did an actual mug for drinking purposes.

Setting the miniature mug on the table, Bentley slouched into a chair with a huff as he glared at the shrunken pottery. Not willing to let the boy wallow in his thoughts, Carrie offered him a smile and said, “I think it looks great and Miles will too.”

A raised eyebrow answered Carrie as Bentley glanced up at her, “I can’t give that to him - it’s tiny.”

“And you and I both know that he would love it all the same.” As Carrie moved to sit at another pottery wheel, Bentley sighed, but remained quiet as she continued, “He loves everything you make for him and you know that.”

“I know,” Bentley muttered, “but I wanted this to be special.”

“And it still is.”

“How? He can’t drink out of it.”

“Yeah,” Carrie agreed, “but he can use it as a Christmas ornament in a few months.”

Bentley snorted despite himself, the thought of the little mug dangling from their living room tree dancing through his mind. Finally shifting his gaze from the cup to the blonde across from him, Bentley grinned, “He would.”

“I know.” Carrie smiled at the boy before flicking her hair over her shoulder and chuckling, “I wouldn’t put it past him to use that as the star on top with how much he loves caffeine.”

Feeling a bit better about how his failed pottery had turned out, Bentley breathed, “I guess it won’t be a total loss if I give it to him looking like this.”

“Exactly,” Carrie said with a nod. “He’ll love it regardless. And, if you decide to make another, you’ll know to make it a bit bigger.”

“I guess so, yeah,” Bentley agreed. Taking in a deep breath as he stood, Bentley asked, “So, what do you wanna do? We can paint or draw or make awful sculptures of each other, if you want. I’d offer you a photoshoot, but that’s more Royce’s expertise than mine.”

“That’s fine,” Carrie chuckled. “I don’t think I have the artistic abilities to do much of anything here.”

Bentley moved over to the wall of blank canvases and pulled a pair of small ones down as he turned to Carrie once more, “Come on, it’ll be fun. We can hang out and talk while we paint.”

As Bentley set up a pair of easels, Carrie let out a hesitant laugh, “I doubt mine will look anything like yours.”

“It doesn’t have to be good,” Bentley stated. “So long as you’re having fun, that’s all that matters.”

“Are you sure?” Carrie asked as she stood. “I mean, I’d be more than willing to just watch if you want to make something. You know, that way I don’t waste paint on something terrible.”

“As long as the paint goes on the canvas, it’s not a waste,” Bentley insisted. “Besides, we can make anything; nature scenes, a fictional world, or, I don’t know, maybe we could paint ourselves as superheroes or something.”

While Bentley got to work collecting paints to place on a tray between the two easels, Carrie’s train of thought screeched to a halt at the boy’s words. Looking over at the teenager with a smile, Carrie slowly sat down on one of the stools Bentley had pulled over and said, “That reminds me, I actually have something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh yeah?” Bentley asked, glancing at Carrie before returning to the tub of assorted paint tubes before him. “What about?”

“Before we left home, I got a call from my manager.”

Hefting the container of paints onto a rolling table between the easels, Bentley looked at Carrie with an almost nervous chuckle, “You’re not getting fired or something, are you?”

Letting out a shocked bark of laughter, Carrie reached over and shoved Bentley’s shoulder, “No!”

Giggling, Bentley said, “Well, you never know!”

With a good-natured roll of her eyes, Carrie shook her head and said, “That’s not it at all. Actually, it’s pretty much the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“A film company I hadn’t heard of before reached out and offered me a role in their new show,” Carrie explained.

“That’s great,” Bentley said with a brilliant smile. “What’s it about?”

“All I know about it is that it’s an assassin show,” Carrie claimed. “However, the only down side is that it’s going to be filming almost exclusively in Europe.”

“Europe?” Bentley repeated. When Carrie nodded, he asked, “What, like England or Scotland?”

“I know part of filming will be in the UK,” Carrie mused, “but for the character they want me to portray, filming would primarily be in Russia, Belarus, or Ukraine.”

Bentley allowed Carrie’s words to sink in, processing them slowly as he uttered, “That’s a long way from home.”

Carrie sighed, “I know. That’s sort of why I haven’t told Miles that they want me signed on.”

“Miles doesn’t know?”

“Not yet, no.” Carrie took in a deep breath before admitting, “I sort of wanted to get your reaction before telling him.”

“Well, I think it’s a great opportunity for you, but I think we both know how Miles will react,” Bentley said. “He’ll be happy for you no matter what. Just remember that he’ll probably end up going to the library to do as much research on your filming locations as possible. Remember what he was like when he had to decide which school to put me and Royce into?”

Of course, Carrie knew all too well. Miles had spent hours upon hours looking into the local schools, trying to figure out which one would be best for his brothers. After work, he would go to the library and research the local schools and their programs, searching for any hint of safety issues or cases of bullying. Royce and Bentley had to ride their bicycles to the library more than once to pry him away when it was almost closing time. After basically interrogating Lela about her old school and trying to see which schools had the best art and literature classes, he finally settled on one and signed all of the application papers overnight, falling asleep at the kitchen table with some of the papers stuck to his face and his pen still in hand. When Carrie showed up to pick Miles up for work the next morning, it took Bentley grabbing the spray bottle from the bathroom and filling it with frigid water to wake him from his slumber.

“Yeah,” Carrie said slowly as she nodded.

“That was just him figuring out a local school for us,” Bentley reminded her. “We weren’t going anywhere out of the state. So, when the time comes and you finally tell him, just know that he’ll be so much worse than that.”

Wondering just how bad it would be, Carrie sat silently, her gaze drifting as she allowed images of Miles scouring shelves of old books and frantically asking Mick and Vivien for help researching things on their phones to fill her mind. Eventually, her gaze drifted back toward Bentley and the two shared a nervous smile before dissolving into laughter. For a while, joy filled the room, filling the silent gaps in conversation that had once lingered between the pair. Eventually, the laughter began to fade and, as Carrie looked to Bentley once more, she sighed, “What have I gotten myself into?”

Bentley snickered, “A few months of pestering questions and nonstop research.”

“At least,” Carrie chuckled with a shake of her head. Taking in a breath, Carrie thought of Miles’ tendency to look into every possibility with a fine-toothed comb and wondered aloud, “I wonder if he’ll do the same for Mick when the time comes.”

“What do you mean?”

Snapping her gaze from the canvas before her to the blond boy beside her, Carrie cleared her throat and said, “It’s nothing, really. It’s just…” she sighed, “Charlie told me that some girls in the dance studio were talking about Mick being pregnant. It’s probably just a rumor, but I was just thinking how Miles would react if he she told him.”

“People really think she’s going to have a baby?” Bentley asked incredulously. “That’s crazy!”

“I thought so too, but there’s no telling,” Carrie claimed with a shrug. “Charlie thinks it could go either way.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“I wonder if anyone else has heard about it,” Bentley said thoughtfully.

Carrie shrugged, “If the campers know, it’s probably spreading through camp as we speak.”

“Probably,” Bentley breathed. He would have to talk to Royce about it later on as he sometimes left the library door open for fresh air. If anyone walked by and was talking about it, he would hear it from the desk. With a shake of his head, Bentley grabbed a palette from the table between himself and Carrie and held it out for her to take. “You ready to get your paint on?”

Carrie eyed the colorfully stained palette before reaching up to take it with a smile, “Absolutely.”

Royce sighed as he ran his towel over his dripping curls. He was going to take a shower that night anyway, but after being unceremoniously shoved into the lake by Riven, he had gone inside to take a shower before they started playing games. Riven had caught him staring at Vivien - a normal occurrence, he thought - and his girlfriend’s skating partner chose to tease him about it when his girlfriend left the pier to help her aunts bring coolers of drinks down from the parking lot. After a while of back-and-forth, Riven gave Royce a nudge, and, needless to say, he was unprepared for it.

Tripping over the uneven planks, Royce had plunged into the cool lake, scaring off a nearby school of fish as the water enveloped him. Glancing out of the window near his bed as he sat down, Royce huffed; the trail of water he left from the edge of the pier to the front door of their cabin was still faintly visible in the fading sunlight. While it would be gone in the morning, Royce doubted his embarrassment would be. By the time he had resurfaced, Riven was folded over on the dock, laughing like a hyena. Bentley and Erica were no better as they took one look at each other and burst into laughter, only resorting to poorly disguised snickers when Jade elbowed them both in the ribs. Miles and Butchy hauled him up on the pier with matching smirks that told him they wouldn’t be letting it go for at least a day or two.

As Vivien and her aunts made their way down the beach toward them, Royce ducked past Carrie and Mick and gave a halfhearted response to his girlfriend’s question as to where he was going before ducking into the log cabin they were staying in and allowing the door to slam shut behind himself. Now that he’d had the chance to simmer and wallow in his mortification, Royce wondered if the red tinting his skin was due to the hot water or the embarrassment he still felt pulsing through his veins. Despite the mint-scented body wash he’d practically caked himself in, he could still smell the strong odor of seaweed and fish in the air. Royce sighed; maybe he had gotten water up his nose.

A knock on Royce’s door drew his attention away from his misery and he cleared his throat before asking, “Who is it?”

“Just me.”

Bentley. Royce took in a deep breath and said, “Come in.”

The handle twisted and Bentley pushed his way into the room with a grin before closing the heavy door behind him. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” Royce offered. “Did you guys start without me?”

“Of course not,” Bentley chuckled as he moved to sit beside his brother, “but Mickie wants us to watch a video before we play Mafia, so I said I’d come see if you were ready to join.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Royce said as he set his towel aside. “I just hope they’re alright with me still smelling like fish.”

“Ah,” Bentley breathed with a smirk, “so that’s what that smell is.”

Shoving Bentley, Royce chuckled, “Shut up.”

Bentley let out a short laugh, “Seriously, though, you smell fine.”

“Well, good, ‘cause I’m sitting next to you.”

“Oh no!” Bentley gasped dramatically. “Whatever shall I do? I’ll have to deal with you smelling like three-day-old sushi all night.”

“You are such a dick.”

“I can’t be a dick, my name’s not Richard.”

Royce shook his head with a laugh, “Whoever decided Dick was a good name for Richard, clearly hated people named Richard.”

“I know, right,” Bentley chuckled. Pushing himself to his feet, Bentley nudged Royce with the back of his hand and asked, “Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” Royce nodded, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“You’d better hurry or I’ll eat your peanut butter M&Ms.”

With a roll of his eyes, Royce grabbed his towel and stood, “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”

As Bentley reached the door, his hand wrapped around the handle, he turned back to Royce and asked, “Hey, um, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Royce said as he tossed his towel into the hamper beside his dresser.

Taking in a contemplative breath, Bentley asked, “Have you noticed anything different with Mick lately?”

Glancing over as he took a pair of shorts and a shirt from his dresser, Royce shrugged, “Not that I know of, why?”

“People are saying she’s pregnant.”

“Really?” When Bentley nodded, Royce asked, “Who did you hear that from?”

Knowing how quickly Royce would dismiss the thought if he said where he truly heard it from, Benltey said, “Some campers. I guess it’s been passing around camp.”

Royce thought for a moment before sighing, “We live with her; I think we would know if she was pregnant.”

“Maybe, but maybe she and Butchy wanted to keep it a secret and someone overheard them talking about it,” Bentley suggested.

The more Royce thought about it, the more things made sense. He knew how fast rumors spread - Vivien’s friendship with Noah being one that was spun into a mess. If Mick and Butchy truly were going to have a baby and someone overheard them talking, it wouldn’t be long before the whole camp knew. Even if they weren’t and someone had made it up, it wouldn’t take long for the camp-wide game of Telephone to make its rounds. Besides, if anyone else had noticed her exhaustion as of late, her few-and-far-between coffee refills at breakfast, or the way she no longer stole pickles from Butchy’s plate during meals, that would only contribute to the way things were spiraling.

“Maybe we should ask and see if anyone has seen a difference in her,” Royce suggested as he set his clothes for the next day on his desk chair.

“I asked Erica and Jade if they noticed anything,” Bentley said, “and Erica said she hadn’t noticed anything, but Jade noticed she’s been having stomach pains lately.”

Royce nodded thoughtfully as he joined Bentley by the door, “I guess we’ll just have to keep an eye on her. Maybe I’ll talk to Miles tomorrow and see if he knows anything.”

“He’s her best friend,” Bentley mused as he pulled the door open. “He and Butchy would be at the top of the list of people Mick would tell.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Royce agreed as he followed Bentley to the stairs.

Royce’s day had gotten off to a pretty good start. Despite sleeping in far later than he usually did, almost everything had gone well. The mess hall had his favorite omelets for breakfast, the library was practically empty up to lunch, and some of the other staff had helped put together a makeshift carnival on the soccer field for everyone to have fun that afternoon. A trampoline Vivien claimed they had borrowed from her grandparents’ house was on one side of the field, a rented slip-and-slide was on the other end, and a myriad of games littered the area. The only other activity that had been set up was a water balloon fight; buckets filled with peltable balloons were arranged in a row stretching across the grass at the bottom of the fence that surrounded the playground off to the side of the field.

As Royce wandered aimlessly through the field, he spotted his older brother crouching behind a piece of the wooden play structure, water balloon in hand. Making his way over to the wooden fence that separated the playground from the soccer field, Royce watched as a small girl Royce knew usually stayed in the back corner of the library, poked her head around the rock climbing wall and chucked a green balloon in Miles’ general direction before ducking back behind the wall. Just as Royce was about to call out to Miles, he heard another child laugh and watched a balloon sail just over Miles’ head. Miles peered over the wooden planks that sheltered him and quickly threw his balloon, watching it nail a kid who was no older than ten as he crossed an exposed bridge.

“Ah!” the kid shrieked as water burst across his shirt.

Another kid climbed up on the monkey bars to get a better view, but before they could make their shot at Miles, Royce called, “Hey, Miles!” As the kids stalled and Miles turned to see who wanted him, Royce asked, “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Miles nodded, turning and raising his arms in surrender before calling out to the kids, “Hey, guys? I’m tapping out!”

“Come on!” the kid on the monkey bars moaned as Miles stood.

“For how long?” another whined.

“Dunno,” Miles replied as he shrugged. Despite the children’s grumbling complaints, Miles walked over to the fence Royce leaned against with a smile and lowered his voice as he asked, “Hey, what’s up?”

“I, uh, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Alright,” Miles nodded, “go ahead.”

Royce glanced over to where Mick was standing with Butchy, utterly annihilating him at the ring toss station, before looking back to Miles. “I don’t know how else to say this, so I’m just going to ask.” Royce took in a deep breath and sighed, “Do you think there’s any way Mick could be pregnant?”

Although he appeared taken aback, Miles glanced over at Mick and Butchy and thought for a moment before meeting Royce’s eyes and asking, “Where did this come from?”

“Bentley,” Royce replied. “He said he heard a few campers talking about it yesterday and that it could be just a rumor, but from what I’ve seen, it could be true.”

Letting out a slow breath, Miles asked, “What have you seen?”

Royce took in a breath to organize his thoughts before he began, “She’s not drinking energy drinks anymore and she’s having a lot less coffee at breakfast, she hasn’t been eating much of anything and can’t look at certain foods without gagging, and even Jade says that Mick’s been having a lot of stomach pains lately.”

“And both you and Ben think that means she could be pregnant?”

“I looked it up on my phone while I was at my post earlier and the symptoms are very similar.”

Miles spared another glance at Mick as she dragged Butchy to yet another booth with a gleaming smile on her face. Taking a good look at his friend, he wanted nothing more than to dispute Royce’s claim. She looked fine! Not that pregnancy would make her look bad, by any means, but she looked the same as she always did. Shaking his head, he asked, “And Bentley was sure he heard them correctly?”

Royce nodded, humming in confirmation, “He seemed worried about her, so I’d say so, yeah.”

“I’ll try asking him about it later, maybe he’ll remember who it was that said it and we can go from there.”

“Sounds good.”

“Yeah.”

Just as Royce was about to head back to the makeshift carnival, a pain flared against his shoulder as he felt water splash across his face and down his arm. “Ow!” he yelled, sending a glare at the cockily-smirking girl who threw and caught another water balloon.

“What the fuck?” Miles called to the kids as they laughed from their places on the play structure.

“I’m not even playing!” Royce called.

“‘Cause you’re a chicken?” a boy called back.

“Chicken!” the girl with the devilish smile taunted.

“You’re a chicken, Royce!” another kid called.

As the children continued their teasing in the hopes of goading Royce into playing, Royce sighed, “Sometimes, I really hate those kids.”

Miles turned to Royce with a smirk and nodded toward the kids, lowering his voice as he asked, “You want to fuck them up?”

Royce took a look around and, noting that everyone was a pretty good distance from them, nodded as he turned back to Miles, “Yeah, I do.”

With a proud grin, Miles turned back toward the kids and began walking back to his previous spot as he called out, “You asked for it!”

“Better run, you little rugrats!” Royce called as he climbed over the fence.

Filing into the mess hall with damp shirts and laughter on their lips, Miles and Royce made their way to the end of the line to grab trays and fill them with food. After grabbing a tray, Royce took off, telling Miles he was going to talk to Vivien before disappearing down the line. Miles shook his head with a fond smile, glad his brother found happiness in little moments with his girlfriend. After grabbing some mac and cheese from its tin, Miles rounded a few campers and found himself next to Bentley as his youngest brother shoveled steak tips onto his plate.

“Let me guess,” Miles began, making Bentley jump, “you’re planning on drowning that in ketchup.”

“Absolutely,” Bentley beamed. “And you’ll pour that nasty steak sauce on yours like you always do.”

“Okay, first of all, it’s not nasty, you just have no taste buds,” Miles said. “And, second of all, yes, yes, I will.”

As Bentley’s face contorted into one of disgust, he handed the tongs to Miles and muttered, “Gross.”

Rolling his eyes with a smile, Miles grabbed some steak from the tin it sat in. Glancing at his youngest brother, Miles lowered his voice and said, “You know, I was actually hoping to talk to you.”

Bentley turned to Miles before quickly sighing, his eyes closing in defeat as he said, “If this is about the salamander, I swear, I had nothing to do with it.”

Miles turned toward Bentley again and asked, “What salamander?”

Searching his brother’s eyes for any sign of deception, Bentley slowly said, “I take it Carrie didn’t tell you.”

“No,” Miles said. “Why? What happened?”

Letting out a snort, Bentley recalled, “She and I were walking to the cabin so we could make sure we had stuff for the movie tonight and, on the way back, Carrie went to take a drink of her water and found that a little lizard had climbed onto her bottle.”

“And you had nothing to do with it?” Miles asked skeptically.

“Of course not,” Bentley replied. “Carrie and I have actually been getting along. If Royce had been there, I would have blamed him, but he was with you, so…”

“So the lizard just wanted a drink, huh?”

“Guess so.”

Heaving a sigh as he joined Bentley at the juice bowl, Miles said, “Anyway, that wasn’t what I was hoping to talk with you about.”

“Oh yeah, right,” Bentley chuckled. “So, what do you wanna talk about?”

“I was talking with Royce earlier and he said you told him there’s a rumor that Mick might be pregnant,” Miles stated. “I was just wondering if you knew which campers were spreading it around?”

“Well,” Bentley began, heaving a thoughtful sigh as he looked up at his brother, “the thing is, I didn’t overhear it from some campers.”

“You didn’t?” When Bentley shook his head, Miles asked, “Why did you tell Royce you had?”

Bentley sighed, “I didn’t want to say anything to Royce because I knew he would deny it if he knew who really told me. He’d probably say she was just spreading crap around or something, but I knew it was true and I didn’t want him to just brush it off.”

It didn’t take Miles long to figure out who his youngest brother was talking about. “You heard it from Carrie?”

“Yeah, she and I talked about it yesterday,” Bentley said with a nod. “She said that Charlie told her some girls in the dance studio were talking about it.”

Glancing at the table they normally sat at, Miles was glad to see the table had yet to be filled with their cabin’s inhabitants, but both of Vivien’s aunts had already claimed their normal seats. Then, just as Miles was preparing to make his way over and question Charlie himself, Mick and Butchy made their way to their seats and began conversing with the older women. Turning back to his brother, Miles asked, “Tonight, when Charlie and Hayley are making snacks for movie night, can you keep the others away so I can talk to them?”

Raising his hand to his forehead in a mock salute, Bentley smiled, “Aye aye, captain.”

Chuckling, Miles reached up and ran a hand through Bentley’s hair, ruffling it as he turned and headed for the table they typically dined at. Sitting down at his usual spot, he briefly wondered if Mick knew about the circulating rumors or if it had been a rumor at all. If her beaming smile and boundless laughter at Hayley’s terrible jokes were anything to go by, he doubted the brunette knew anything of the rumors. However, he couldn’t be sure. Mick’s tendency to laugh during awkward situations made it hard to tell what she did or didn’t know. Even if she was pregnant and had chosen to keep it a secret, he wondered if the rumors floating around would have any effect on her. She took almost everything to heart.

Miles inwardly sighed; he would just have to wait and find out for himself.

The smell of popcorn and the sound of laughter filled the cabin as Miles stepped inside. While everyone else was outside, playing ninja on the end of the pier and pushing the losers into the lake, Miles had slipped away in the hopes of finding Charlie and Hayley alone in the house. Just as he had presumed, they were in the kitchen, sitting on the countertops with cups of green juice that looked almost radioactive.

“Hey, Miles,” Hayley greeted, raising her cup slightly as Charlie waved.

“Hey,” he said in return.

“Did Viv send you in to ask about the snacks?” she asked with a knowing smirk. Before he could answer, Hayley chuckled, “She knows I won’t give her a straight answer, so she sends her friend instead - the little shit.”

Before Miles could say anything to the contrary, Charlie smiled and said, “The popcorn isn’t in yet, but the pretzels are almost done.”

“That’s good,” Miles said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Viv didn’t send me in, though.”

“Oh,” Hayley said, “that’s surprising.”

“What did you come in for?” Charlie asked. “A drink, some chips, maybe to save me from my wife’s terrible puns.”

Hayley scoffed, placing a hand over her heart as though she’d been stabbed, “My jokes aren’t terrible!”

“Yeah, they are.”

“You laughed, asshole.”

“It was a pity laugh.”

“Bullshit,” Hayley laughed.

With a roll of her eyes and an exaggerated sigh, Charlie turned her focus back to Miles and smiled as she asked, “Anyway, what do you need, sweetheart?”

“I was actually hoping to ask you something,” Miles admitted.

“Me?” Charlie asked, pointing to herself. Miles hummed in confirmation. “Well, in that case, I’m all ears.”

Taking in a deep breath, Miles sighed as he slowly recounted, “Royce told me that Bentley said that Carrie told him that you said you heard people talking about Mick being pregnant. I was wondering if you knew who was talking about it?”

As Charlie thought it over, her eyebrow raised and she lowered her cup of juice to the counter beside her as she said, “Some girls in the studio were talking about it, yeah, but they said that they heard it from you and Vivien.”

“What?” Miles wondered. “But I just found out about it today.”

Charlie glanced down, allowing herself to think over what had happened in the last week. Slowly, she claimed, “On Monday, I was instructing ballet and jazz. Dina Woodward injured her wrist and I stepped out with her to wrap it. When I came back, everyone in the studio was giggling and talking. A group of girls said they went by the music hall on their way in and overheard you and Vivien talking about Mick being pregnant.”

Miles allowed the woman’s words to sink in as he tried to recall what happened on Monday. He and Vivien had been in the music hall, playing guitar, talking, and relaxing as rain pelted the area. Vivien had been particularly tired that day, nearly falling asleep on Miles' shoulder as they sat in silence. Then, as the timer for the pretzels dinged, it hit him. While Miles was worrying about the possibility of rain coming through the ceiling, Vivien had asked him a question about the chance of Mick being pregnant, listing off her reasoning for thinking about it. While they were talking, the wind had slammed the door. However, Vivien had checked it and they moved on like nothing happened. Maybe it hadn’t been the wind. Maybe it had been the campers listening in.

“We started all of this,” he admitted softly. With a heavy sigh, Miles said, “I have to go tell Vivien so we can stop the rumors.”

As Hayley pulled the tray of pretzels from the oven, she requested, “Maybe you should wait until tomorrow.”

“What?” Miles asked. “Why?”

Charlie hopped down from the counter and crossed over to Miles, resting a hand on his arm as she replied for her wife, “Tonight, we’re supposed to be relaxing with some good movies and good snacks. Let everyone take some time to breathe - yourself included - and you can worry about it tomorrow.”

“But-”

Charlie was quick to cut him off, reaching up and cupping Miles’ cheek in her free hand to draw his attention to her words, “But it will still be an issue tomorrow and everyone will still be understanding tomorrow. Take the night to enjoy time with the family. Rumors at camp don’t last, but memories with your family do. You can work things out with everyone tomorrow, but give yourself time to process it for now.”

“Yeah,” Hayley agreed as she moved to stand beside her wife as Charlie patted Miles’ shoulder comfortingly. “Besides, Vivien will go into a full-tilt frenzy trying to make things right and, if you start that tonight, that poor child won’t sleep. If you tell her in the morning, she’ll have enough energy to fuss about it all day.”

“Hails,” Charlie gently reprimanded, elbowing the woman beside her.

“What?” Hayley asked rhetorically, a laugh falling from her lips as she returned to the counter to salt the pretzels. “It’s the truth. She’s just like me and we both know it.”

With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, Charlie turned back to Miles and smiled, “As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. I know you want to fix this here and now, but you and I both know you want Vivien’s help since you both are, somehow, at the start of it.”

“Yeah,” Miles admitted in a breath.

“So, like Hayley said, I think you should wait,” Charlie claimed. “It will still be there tomorrow and you can work on it together without having to deal with a sleep-deprived, caffeine-riddled Vivien stumbling through the grounds like Jack Sparrow on dry land.”

Letting out a snicker at the mental image of Vivien fumbling her way through the camp with a bullhorn, shouting incoherent claims in the hopes of clearing Mick’s reputation, Miles chuckled, “Yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be the greatest way to handle things.”

“Mhm,” Charlie hummed, patting Miles' hand as she turned and grabbed a stack of cups from the counter. “Now, take these out and hand them to everyone. We’ll be out in a few with snacks and drinks and then we can start the movie.”

“Are you sure you guys don’t need help?” Miles offered.

“Are you a psychiatrist?” Hayley asked as she set a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

Miles’ head tipped curiously to the side as his eyebrow raised and he slowly replied, “No?”

“Then, no, I think we’re all set,” Hayley chirped as the microwave whirred to life.

Rolling her eyes once more, Charlie pushed the cups into Miles’ hands and said, “Take these and run before you’re subjected to any of her horrendous jokes.”

Miles chuckled, taking the cups and heading toward the hallway, “Alright, alright, I’m going.”

As the popcorn began sizzling in the microwave, Hayley turned to Charlie, leaned against the counter, and asked, “If my jokes are so bad, why do you always laugh?”

“Because I love you,” Charlie answered with ease as she sidled her way up to her wife.

“And here I thought you found me funny.”

“Funny looking, maybe,” Charlie teased, “but those puns of yours are just plain terrible, my dear.”

Placing the back of her hand to her forehead and letting out a gasp of air, Hayley whined, “Oh, how you wound me!”

“Drama queen.”

“Fun hater.”

“Oh yeah?” Charlie said. When Hayley nodded, Charlie asked, “Do you know what the leading cause of divorce is?”

Curious, Hayley offered, “A lack of humor in a relationship?”

“Nope,” Charlie said with a shake of her head before leaning up and kissing Hayley on the cheek. “A stalemate.”

As Charlie took the bag of popcorn from the microwave and opened it to pour it into a bowl, Hayley processed the joke, her jaw slowly opening in shock, “Holy shit; was that a fucking pun?!”

“You know,” Vivien mused, “when Carrie told me to break a leg, this wasn’t what I thought she meant.”

In place of their usual day of recreation and rehearsals, that Friday was spent challenging the campers and staff alike. Unlike many of their previous days filled with activities, The Gauntlet - as the campers had begun calling it - had taken place at the amphitheatre and, as many expected, many workers had signed on to participate. Between the ropes course, the speed challenge, the scavenger hunt, and the climbing wall, everyone had their work cut out for themselves in one way or another. While the campers competed in teams, the staff were left to fend for themselves.

It was to no one’s surprise that Vivien had signed up to compete; her boundless energy and competitive nature boiled over when she found both Riven’s and Noah’s names on the sign-up sheet. What was surprising, however, was the fact that she ended up getting injured. Despite making it through the race in the top three and finding everything on her scavenger hunt list with relative ease, it was the ropes course that had been Vivien’s downfall. Near the end of the course, her foot had slipped on the wooden planks, sending her flying into the podium, and she narrowly avoided slamming face-first into the trunk of a tree.

Riven had managed to get her down after she quickly discovered how painful standing was, but as the auburn-haired skater was next in line for the next segment of the challenge, Miles had offered to take Vivien to the health center to see how bad her injury truly was. That was where they could be found, Miles hitching Vivien further up in his piggyback hold as he made his way to the front entrance of the health center.

Miles chuckled, “I highly doubt you’ve broken anything.”

“I know, but still,” Vivien shrugged. “It’s a good thing I got to know her before Royce’s impression of Carrie infected my brain.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm,” the brunette hummed. “Otherwise, I would’ve said she put some ancient curse on me or something.”

Miles let out a snort as he paused to glance over his shoulder at the younger girl, “An ancient curse? Really?”

“I’m from New England, the home of literal witches,” Vivien deadpanned. “At this point, anything’s possible.”

With an amused shake of his head, Miles chuckled, “Yeah, I can’t see Carrie as a witch.”

“I could,” Vivien said with a smirk as Miles pushed the health center door open with his shoe. At Miles’ curious look, she said, “Tell me she wouldn’t be an incredible Sarah Sanderson.”

“That’s the one from Hocus Pocus, right?” Miles asked as he nudged his way further into the building. “The one who they push into the street to see if it kills them?”

“Yeah!” Vivien chirped as Miles set her on one of the beds. “You know, the blonde who sings to draw everyone in with her magic. Carrie would be incredible as her.”

As Miles pulled a stool over to sit on, he nodded, smiling at Vivien as he sat before her, “I could see that working out.”

“Just wait until I have her watch those with me after my birthday,” Vivien chuckled. “I give her an hour before she starts planning to have you two dress up as Sarah and Billy for halloween.”

“An hour?” Miles chuckled with a shake of his head. “Half an hour, maybe, but I doubt she’d wait an entire hour.”

Vivien smiled as she worked on untying her shoes, “Yeah, true. Maybe she, Mick, and I could go as the Sanderson sisters this year.”

“I thought you, Royce, and Bentley were going as Stranger Things characters.”

“We haven’t decided yet,” Vivien shrugged. “I wanted to go as Max or Robin and Royce was going as Steve or Dustin. Bentley wanted to go as Will, but then he saw the demogorgon costume and now that’s up in the air. But, if they can’t decide before we go to Spirit Halloween, I’m going to just go with the girls and they can fend for themselves.”

Miles let out a snort as Vivien dropped her shoe to the floor, “Then I’ll have to listen to them whining for the foreseeable future.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

Miles chuckled and shook his head, “Speaking of problems, we need to talk about something, but first, can you move your foot at all?”

Vivien sucked in a breath and winced as she moved her foot around in a slow circle, “Yeah, but it hurts.”

“Alright, so it’s definitely not broken,” he mused, “but it could be a sprain or a twist.”

“My bet’s on a sprain,” Vivien commented. “Even with a twist, I can stand and put weight on it.”

Miles looked around, “Do you know where they keep the crutches?”

Raising a hand, Vivien pointed to a closet on the far wall, “In there. The code for the lock is nineteen-seventy-three - the year Nonna and Grandpa George got married.”

Miles stood and made his way to the closet, setting the lock aside and opening the door before grabbing a set of crutches and making his way back to Vivien. “How tall are you?” he asked as he examined the slider at the bottom of the metal crutches.

“Five-eight,” she replied. As Miles got to work on adjusting her crutches, Vivien used a sigh to blow her hair from her face and asked, “So, what problems do we need to talk about?”

Glancing up at the girl before him, Miles took in a breath and asked, “Do you remember the other day when you and I were talking about Mick being pregnant?”

The brunette thought for a moment before slowly nodding, “Uh, yeah, why? Is she?”

“No,” Miles said before pausing. “Actually, I don’t know. What I do know is that a group of campers overheard us and has been spreading a rumor around camp that Mick’s pregnant.”

Vivien let out a humorless chuckle, “You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish I was.”

“How did you find out about it?” she asked.

“Royce told me and Bentley had told him,” Miles stated. “I guess Bentley heard it from Carrie who heard it from Charlie who heard it when the campers went to the dance studio after overhearing us talk about it.”

Vivien thought about the chain of events before recalling, “When the door slammed and I went to check it, there were campers running to the dance studio, but they were far enough away that I thought it couldn’t have been them.”

“Well, I guess it actually was.” Miles set the crutches aside for Vivien and looked up at her before saying, “Now, we have to fix it.”

Vivien nodded slowly, “We should talk to Mick first and get things straight. If the rumor is about her, she should know about it.”

“Yeah, and even if she’s actually pregnant, it would be best to get the story straight,” Miles agreed.

Vivien nodded, but before she could say anything more, the door to the health center opened and Butchy stepped inside, sending the pair a smile as he asked, “How’s everything going?”

Miles was the first to answer, “It’s probably a sprain.”

“I’ll be fine after a day or two,” Vivien shrugged. “I’ve sprained my foot before and it never lasts long if I take a day off of it.”

“Alright,” Butchy said with a small grin, “in that case, consider yourself crutch-bound for the next few days.”

“It’s going to suck at the carnival tomorrow,” Vivien sighed, “but that’s what I get for doing stupid shit.”

Fighting the instinct to tell the teenager off for swearing when a child could walk in at any minute, Butchy chuckled and leaned against the bed next to her, “We’ll work something out for you tomorrow, piccola. One of those air casts or a brace, maybe.”

“Maybe.” Vivien shrugged, “As long as I get to go on the Tilt-A-Whirl, I’ll be fine with whatever.”

Butchy reached up, bringing an arm around Vivien’s shoulders with a smile, “Atta girl. You feel up to going back to the amphitheatre and watching the rest of the competition?”

“It might take me a while to get there,” Vivien snickered as she took her new metallic friends and settled them under her arms, “but yeah. Are Noah and Riven still in it?”

“Noah lost the ropes course to Riven, but that’s all I know,” Butchy claimed as he stood.

As Vivien stood and began hobbling her way to the door she turned to Miles and asked, “Are you coming?”

Miles smiled, “Yeah, I just have to lock up the closet again. I’ll meet you along the way.”

“Okay,” she said, allowing Butchy to take the lead as she made her way outside.

Once the closet was locked up once again, Miles pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his messages. Finding his last conversation with Mick, he typed, 'Can we talk later? In private?'

It wasn’t long before he got a reply, 'Of course, why, what’s up?'

'Too much to type. Meet in the playhouse after dinner?'

'Sure, see you there.'

It wasn’t often that Butchy found himself walking back to the cabin without Mick by his side, however, as he had kitchen duty that week, he had told her to just head out while he got to work cleaning up. Though the air outside the mess hall was still thick with humidity, the sky had begun to darken and cool the heat of the day. The amount of plates covered in chili and melted cheese had made his fingertips turn to raisins in the soapy sink water and the steam from the hot water made him feel as though he’d been working in a sauna, but the cooler outside air was a welcoming contrast to the heat of the wooden building. Taking in a deep breath, Butchy sighed as a breeze blew by, urging him to make his way back to the lodge he resided in.

He wondered what everyone was up to. They wouldn’t have a game night or movie night without him there as they only ever spent those nights as a whole group. Maybe they were sitting around the living room, doing their own thing. Mick would probably be reading in her corner of the couch while Miles and Riven talked music on the opposite end. Charlie, Jade, and Carrie would most likely be found painting each others’ faces in jelly masks while Bentley and Royce would be on the floor with Vivien, talking about things they only ever talked about together. If he had to guess, Erica and Hayley would be talking off to the side. For some reason, the unlikely pair had grown close after Erica discovered Hayley was the wild child in her family and Butchy had seen the two talking a lot as of late.

Letting out a long breath, Butchy pushed his hair back and began the walk home. Normally the walk went by quickly as everyone chattered about their days and the camper drama they had heard. However, as cicadas chirped in the bushes and the faint buzz of the sparse overhead lights, the journey felt as though it would take a lifetime. A few cabins still had campers and counselors lingering outside, chatting as they dreaded the call of lights out, but many kept their doors closed as they prepared for the evening.

Pushing his way through a line of bushes, Butchy took a shortcut between the health center and the playhouse, glancing toward the health center to make sure the lights were off before continuing toward the playhouse. Spotting a light on through one of the side windows, Butchy made his way to the back of the building, opened the screen door, and pushed his way inside before pulling out his cell phone for a flashlight. Just as he flicked it on, he heard a voice from the main hall where a performance would be rehearsed for the next week.

Choosing to not call out in case it was just people cleaning, Butchy made his way through the back rooms before stepping through the doorway that led to the back of the stage. As he got closer, the voices got louder and, before long, he could make out a set of distinct voices. A heavy sigh came from the main room before he heard a familiar voice say, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Mick? What was she doing in the playhouse at this hour? Was she helping someone run lines? Then another voice cut through Butchy’s thoughts, “I wish I was.”

Miles. Since when did he have anything to do with the play? He hated being on stage. Before Butchy could peer around the curtains of the stage to see what was going on, his hand stilled in the air and another voice filled the air, “I mean, at least you found out from us first and not from some random campers, right?”

Vivien’s question gave Butchy pause. As far as he could recall, Hairspray didn’t have a summer camp. Whatever they were discussing, had nothing to do with the play. Lowering his hand, Butchy listened as his wife scoffed, “Still! Half the camp thinks I’m pregnant and I had no clue! Is that why everyone’s been asking me if I’m okay and checking on me all the time?”

“Probably,” Vivien said. “It could just be that they were worried about you.”

“Why would they be?” Mick pressed. “I’m fine.”

“You weren’t eating well and you got nauseous at breakfast almost every day,” Miles stated.

Mick let out a sigh and Butchy could imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration as she huffed, “I started my period and my sense of smell went haywire. It usually goes away after the first few days.”

“You were tired all the time too,” Vivien chimed in.

Butchy had noticed Mick’s exhaustion as of late, but he knew Mick had a good explanation for that as well. “I have two reasons for that,” she began. “First off, I was trying to finish my book before my interest in it died during the week. And, second, Butchy and I have been going on late-night excursions for the camp.”

“You have?” Vivien asked. “Why?”

Mick sighed, “I can’t say just yet, but you’ll see sooner or later. For now, just know that, no, I’m not pregnant. We’ll just have to work on clearing it all up over the weekend with all the kids gone.”

“How are we going to do that?” Miles asked.

Again, Mick sighed, her voice low as she said, “I don’t know, but we can start by spreading things to the counselors. Once they know the truth, they can talk with the campers and clear the air in the privacy of their cabins.”

“We can also tell everyone in our cabin so they can relax,” Vivien added.

“Who else knows about this and didn’t say anything?” Mick asked.

“Royce told me,” Miles began, “and he found out from Bentley, who was told by Carrie, who heard it from Charlie, who was told by the dancers.”

“And I talked to Riven and Aunt Hayley about it

“So practically everyone?” Mick asked.

Vivien chuckled nervously, “To be fair, not everyone believed it, so they didn’t say anything to anybody outside of the cabin.”

“Actually,” Miles started, “Bentley said he talked to Erica and Jade, but I think they’re the only ones outside of the cabin who knew.”

“The only person I think hasn’t heard about it, is Butchy,” Vivien claimed.

“Yeah,” Miles agreed, “I think he would’ve said something if he did.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Mick huffed. After a moment of silence, she took in a breath and said, “We’ll start tonight. We can talk to everyone and make sure everything is smoothed out. As long as we can get through to most of the people in our cabin tonight, I’ll feel better about it, but I want to talk to Butchy about it one-on-one.”

“That’s understandable,” Miles stated.

“I’ll work on everyone else at breakfast,” Vivien said. “I know a few people who would spread it around fastest. Once I get to them, things will clear up pretty quickly.”

As the call for everyone to return to their cabins echoed through the camp, Butchy heard Mick let out a relieved sigh, “With any luck, this will be over before the campers come back.”

“Yeah,” Vivien said optimistically.

“Now, lets get back before the others send out a search party,” Miles chuckled.

“And get to clearing the air with everyone before Butchy gets back from cleaning the mess hall,” Vivien added.

“Yeah,” Mick muttered.

As Butchy listened to their footsteps echo throughout the playhouse, he inched the curtain to the side, watching as his wife left with Miles and Vivien’s arms wrapped around her. None of them looked back to see him standing there, watching them, and as Miles flicked the house lights off, turning the playhouse into a dark abyss of shadows, Butchy wondered how long they had been there, talking. Had he found them early in the conversation or had they been there since they left the mess hall?

Another thing that came to the front of Butchy’s mind was how everyone seemed to know apart from him. Was he truly the last person in their cabin to hear the rumor about Mick’s pregnancy? Who could have started something like that and how had the rumor begun spreading? If it was truly just a rumor as it sounded like Mick said it was, how had it spread throughout the camp? And, again, how would he have been the last to know? As the father of Mick’s rumored child, why would he be the last person in line to know?

Taking in a breath, Butchy shook his head and sighed. He was overthinking it. Mick already said it was nothing more than a rumor; he had nothing to be stressed over. It wasn’t like she was actually pregnant and simply chose not to tell him. If that had been the case, he would have had every right in the world to be at least a little bit upset. That would have been an entirely new can of worms to crack open.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket once more, Butchy turned on the flashlight and made his way back to the back door, ensuring that the lights were off and everything was put away before leaving the playhouse and making his way to the path that connected to the beach. He took his time getting back to the cabin and, by the time he reached the sand of the beach, the sun had set behind the treeline and everyone was congregating on the end of the pier. Despite their smiling faces and jokes about how many dishes he must have had to scrub, he could see in their eyes how serious their previous conversations must have been.

As Butchy took his seat on the pier beside his wife and felt her head rest cozily on his shoulder, he wondered just how long it would take her to tell him. After spending so much time with her, he knew she would need time to sort through her thoughts and feelings on the matter. He had no issue allowing her the space to do so. If he had found out some rumor about himself was spreading amongst his closest friends as well as a myriad of gossiping campers, he would be pretty worked up about it too. As they watched the sunset illuminate the sky, Butchy allowed himself to relax. After all, he had nothing to worry about… right?

Ah, the carnival. The only place where the overwhelming smell of popcorn and fried dough, the sky-high prices of tickets, and the crowds packed tighter than a tin of sardines didn't have any effect on people’s happiness. Workers standing in the summer heat called for people of all ages to try the rigged games they were stationed at, begging them to pay five dollars for a toy they could easily buy at the dollar store. While parents were dragged to ticket counters and various rides their children claimed they just had to ride, groups of teenagers and adults alike gathering on the weekend for a day away from jobs and other responsibilities, roamed free.

After Vivien’s grandparents reassured the group that they had bought day-pass bracelets for everyone, they were practically ushered to the parking lot and encouraged to have a good day away from everything. Upon their arrival at the fairgrounds, the group filed out of the van and found their way through the crowds of people to the line that extended from a row of brightly-colored ticket booths. After making their way to the front of the line and being handed a stack of bracelets with rubber bands wrapped around it, the group found their way to a fairly unoccupied table and worked on figuring out what to do for the day.

After deciding to meet at the Ferris Wheel to figure out what to have for lunch, almost everyone went their separate ways. Vivien and Riven were quick to race to a ride called Pharaoh's Fury, eager to prove that they could handle the pendulum-style ride. Royce and Bentley followed the skating duo but quickly branched off to the nearby Scrambler when Bentley saw just what the Pharaoh’s Fury entailed. As Miles and Carrie wandered off to find something to do, Butchy allowed Mick to guide him around the fairgrounds.

They walked in relative silence, the screams of people on rides and the calls from game operators the only sounds nearby. Butchy wondered what could be going on in Mick’s head. She hadn’t said much of anything since the night before and, while Butchy didn’t want to press her to talk, he missed the sound of her voice. Taking in a breath, Butchy looked around and offered, “Would you like some cotton candy?”

Mick looked up at him and thought for a moment before shaking her head, “Not right now. I think I’ll wait until after we go on some rides to eat anything.”

“Where would you like to go first?” he asked.

With a sigh, Mick looked around and shrugged, “I have no idea.”

Butchy allowed her to look around, taking in the different rides and attractions before asking, “Mickie, are you alright?”

Peering curiously up at her husband, Mick slowly replied, “I was until you asked. Why?”

“You’ve been pretty quiet today,” Butchy stated, “and, usually, you have days like this planned down to the tiniest detail. I was just worried.”

Heaving a sigh, Mick shook her head, “I just have a lot on my mind today. I wanted to talk with you about it when we’re alone, but it doesn’t seem like that will be any time soon.”

Deciding it would be best to inadvertently hit the nail on the head, Butchy lowered his voice and asked, “Is it about that rumor that was going around camp?” When Mick’s wide eyes met his, Butchy sighed, “I don’t know what you heard, but I swear, I didn’t take kitchen duty this week in order to poison Carrie. Not only would it risk poisoning everyone at camp, but it would also make me the number one suspect in her murder, according to Vivien.”

Mick stopped in her tracks and, once Butchy turned back to face her, she asked, “Wait, so you’ve had rumors going around about you this week too?”

“Yeah,” Butchy claimed. “I’m assuming you have too?”

“Yeah,” Mick breathed. “Everyone was saying I was pregnant.”

Butchy froze as though he was hearing this for the first time. Looking his wife over, he took a step closer to her, taking her by the arms as he softly asked, “You’re not?”

“No,” Mick giggled, “I just said it was a rumor.”

Butchy glanced around before quietly saying, “We can change that, if you’d like.”

Mick’s eyes widened as she muttered, “What?”

“It doesn’t have to be a rumor.” With a teasing smirk, Butchy continued, “We could sneak off to the car and nobody would know.”

A shocked noise left Mick and her face burned as she squawked, “Butchy!”

“What?” Butchy asked in mock-astonishment. “I just thought we could go get one of those fake pregnancy tests from that joke shop near Walmart. I don’t know what you were thinking we’d be doing.”

Mick smacked Butchy’s chest as she huffed, “Remind me why I married you.”

“I wish I knew,” Butchy chuckled as he brought an arm around Mick’s shoulders. “I think you were just in it for the motorcycle and I was like the cruddy little prize at the bottom of the cereal box - unnecessary, but you still took it anyway.”

“Sounds about right,” Mick said with a smile, nudging Butchy with her elbow before bringing her arm around his middle. “So, you never heard about the pregnancy rumor?”

“Not until you said something,” Butchy stated. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. He had heard her say it the night before, but she didn’t need to know that. “What about you? Had you heard about me poisoning Carrie?”

Mick snorted, “No, but to be honest, I wouldn’t put that past you.”

Acting as though he’d been shot in the heart, Butchy brought a hand to his chest and gasped, “And here I thought you’d be my alibi for the crime.”

“Yeah, no,” Mick said with a shake of her head as she led her husband toward a swinging chair ride. “You and I both know I’m a terrible liar, so the chances of that happening are slim to none.”

“Guess that means I should put the antifreeze back in the truck, then, huh?”

“Butchy!”

#Camp Wanamaker

27 notes · View notes

hinatastinygiant · 1 year

Text

1 | Army

Pairing: Tokyo Revengers x Fem!Reader

Wasteland Masterlist

Day 0

Just after sliding your feet into your sneakers, you stand up and kiss the photo of your parents by the front door goodbye. "I'll see you guys when I get back," you smile. "I'll tell Takemichi and Hinata you said hi."

You place the photo back down with the rest of the little shrine dedicated to your late parents. Today's finally the day you've been looking forward to for the past two weeks- Grow Tokyo, the weekend-long festival that has just started about one hour ago.

"Shit, I'm late," you whisper to yourself as you grab your keys and run out your front door.

After closing the door behind you, you walk quickly to your car and put it in reverse to pull out of your driveway. For some reason, you find yourself pausing just as you're about to put the car in drive. You look back toward the front door and something inside of you tells you to go back home. But no, you've been so excited to go to this festival, you'll be fine. You'll be with your two closest friends.

When you get to the festival, you meet your friends by the entrance.

"Y/N!" Hinata waves when she spots you. "You're here!"

"And you're late," Takemichi reminds you. "It started well over an hour ago, ya know."

"Okay, so then why didn't you go inside?" you chuckle. "I could've walked around 'til I found you."

"Because I insisted on waiting for you," Hinata smiles softly as she pulls back from your hug. "I mean, you came here alone. I was worried for you."

"I told you that Y/N would be fine. She's tough for a girl," he shrugs casually.

"Oh really? And what exactly is that supposed to mean Hanagaki?" you look at him with narrowed eyes.

"I, uh... that you can handle yourself. You don't need us to watch over you all the time," he replies nervously.

"I'm pretty sure you're the one who'd need to be saved in some kind of horrible situation," you laugh. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Takemichi grinds his teeth as he looks between you and his silent girlfriend for help. "Can we just go inside already?" he then grumbles.

"Yeah," Hinata chuckles. "Let's go."

"I'm starving. Think we can hit the food trucks first?" you ask the two of them.

"I'd love nothing more than to do that," Takemichi nods. "I could eat a horse right now."

"Oh gross," Hinata fake gags.

"Hey, look!" you interrupt as you point toward a black and blue food truck. "There's an egg roll truck over there."

"Ooo, let's check it out!" Hinata beams. "I was craving one earlier today!"

After the three of you approach the food truck, you each buy an egg roll and walk towards a large tent where other people are standing and eating.

"Mmm, this is amazing!" Hinata remarks after taking her first bite.

"Mine's really good too," you agree as you devour nearly half in one bite.

"Same here," Takemichi adds while he attacks his food as well.

Just as you're about to take your next bite, a loud high pitched noise rings in your ears so piercing that all three of you drop your plates to the ground. Your knees give in next and you cover your ears with your hands while your forehead touches the earth below.

It takes about thirty seconds until the noise finally stops. When you sit up, you take your hands off of your ears and hold them in front of you. The noise had been so rough on your poor ears that you had begun to bleed out of them.

"Oh my god, what was that?" Hinata asks you as she wipes the tears from her eyes.

"Were we drugged or something?" you ask as you look over at her.

"Uh, where'd everyone else go?" Takemichi then asks. When you look away from Hinata, you notice that nobody else is around. All the other people who had been at the festival are completely gone. The only ones left are you and your two friends. Not to mention that the whole place looks like it's been abandoned for years.

"Holy shit," you mutter as you stand to your feet. "What just happened."

Looking out across the town, you realize that the place you're now standing in is not the same place you were mere seconds ago. It's a strange world overgrown with vegetation as far as the eye can see.

"Um, where are we?" Hinata asks as she grabs onto Takemichi's arm.

"Tokyo?" he replies with uncertainty.

"It sort of looks like it," you agree. "But I swear it didn't just look like this two minutes ago. Or am I just going insane?"

"No, you're right," Takemichi tells you. "None of these crazy plants were here."

"And there were people. It was so loud before..."

"Before that buzzing, right? You guys heard it too?" you ask them.

"Yeah," they both nod.

"And now it's so quiet," you whisper.

"It's really weird," Hinata whispers back. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"What should we-" Takemichi looks over at you before hearing a loud booming noise from not too far away.

"What the hell was that?" you ask as you whip your head around in the direction of the sound.

"Something's moving over there," Hinata whispers to you.

"Like what?" you ask yourself as you squint across the festival area toward the main road. "That noise sounded like..."

Just again, you hear the sound again.

"Fuck, we need to get out of here!" you shout at your two friends. "That's a fucking gun."

"A gun?!" Hinata gasps, looking more terrified than you've ever seen her before.

"Run, let's go. Run!" you shout.

The three of you run away from the gunshots, only to hear more from yet another direction. As you run around, it seems as though whoever is out there, is starting to corner you in.

Eventually, you find yourselves standing out on the road. But you come to a sudden halt when you see a man in a black coat walking slowly toward you. He's got a shotgun slung over his shoulder which you can see clearly from this distance, even as he reaches for it and aims it in your direction.

"Behind the car!" Takemichi shouts as he grabs both your and Hinata's arms.

The second your body disappears behind the car Takemichi has dragged you toward, you hear a gunshot reverberate against the wall just beside you.

"Shit, what do we do?" he then huffs as he looks at the two of you.

"I don't know! Why are you looking at me like I've done this before!?" you whisper sternly. "Hinata, what do you think we should do?" you then look over at her.

"Split up," she whispers as she looks dead ahead.

"What? No way," Takemichi shakes his head. "I'm not leaving you two in this whacked-out place. We're sticking together!"

"Dammit, Hanagaki," you shake your head. "I think she's right. If we go our separate ways we all have a better chance at survival. We'd be a smaller target and we wouldn't attract as much attention."

"So what are you saying? We go our separate ways forever?" he asks.

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all. But I think for now, we need to be apart. It's not safe."

"Uh, guys," Hinata squeaks as she looks through the window of the car you're all hiding behind. "He's getting closer."

"We meet back here in one hour! You two got that?!" Takemichi looks at you both sternly.

"Yeah," you nod. "Go! I'll distract this asshole."

While your two friends run off in separate directions, you take in a deep breath and prepare yourself for what you're about to do.

You stand up from behind the car and face the predator nearby. Though you can see him grin when you stand, you can't see much more of his face hidden beneath his dark hood. But the second he picks up his shotgun again, your feet take off.

"Shit, shit, shit, why did I agree to this shitty ass plan?!" you grumble to yourself as you begin to run down a small alleyway away from the hooded man.

Just as you reach a corner, you look back and see the man is still following after you. Though before he didn't seem to be in much of a rush, he's starting to get faster. You, on the other hand, are beginning to run out of energy.

You continue to run through the back alleys until you come face to face with a dead end. You curse your stupid plan again but you're quickly pulled from your internal monologue when you hear the sound of a soda can being squished behind you.

With a gasp, you spin around and see the armed man standing a mere ten feet away from you.

"Who the hell are you?!" you shout at him. "What the fuck do you want from me?!"

The man doesn't answer as he gets closer to you. He slings his gun back around his shoulder and reaches into his coat pocket.

"Don't even think about trying anything on me, you sicko! I'll kick you in the balls so hard it'll make your head spin!" you shout as you watch the man pull his hand out of his pocket. The unmistakable shine of a pocket knife in his grip makes your heart fall into your stomach.

This is it.

The end.

You're dead.

Wasteland Masterlist

38 notes · View notes

yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

dilf (and love) | knj | m

pairing: kim namjoon x oc

genre: fluff, domestic fluff, smut, established relationship, marriage and kids lol

warnings: light dom/sub themes, pregnancy kink, penetrative sex, oral sex (f & m receiving), DILF JOON

words: 6, 702

summary: it's been too long since you and namjoon had time to yourselves

“God take that thing away from me!” You whine as you smother your face with your hands.

Jin pins you with a dry look as he catches a glimpse of ‘that thing’ who is looking up at you with big eyes and a toothless grin.

“That thing is your child …” Jin says blandly.

“That thing is ruining my sex life.” You narrow your eyes at Chanmi as she babbles some incoherent words with her ten-month-old vocabulary. You’d think as the daughter and apple of Kim Namjoon’s eye that she’d be able to read, write and speak sixteen languages at the age of one.

You still allow Chanmi to wrap her chubby fingers around your thinner ones and you can’t help but coo at your daughter. While she may have been the one thing that disrupted any intimate moment between you and Namjoon, you would fight anyone that would ever dare to mess with her. Your own husband included.

“Please, spare the details,” Jin mutters under his breath as he watches Chanmi fondly as she attempts to tug at your sleeve in hopes of getting your attention. You squeeze her cheeks before lifting her up in your arms and hold her close to your chest. You whine because she smells so … fresh. Just like a little bread baby that was all yours.

God, you loved her.

“My old sex life brought me this angel.” You grin up at your daughter who just smiles at you, unknowing of the context of your words.

“Can you stop using such vulgar words in front of your child?” Jin scolds you but doesn’t do anything much to take Chanmi out of your grasp.

You roll your eyes.

“She’s like 300 days old. She doesn’t even know how to shit at a decent hour let alone understand what sex is. Penis in vagina. Destroying pussy. A hole in one. Railing—”

Jin slaps his hand over your mouth to get you to stop talking as he glares at you.

“Why did my brother marry a heathen like you.” Jin seethes.

You shrug nonchalantly as you turn your head to see your dumbhead yet smart-ass husband that was attempting to glue back the shards of glass from the wine glass he broke earlier in hopes of you not realising.

“He needed to put his 148 IQ to good use and I’m the best investment his finance major ever got him.”

“The only good thing that came out of your marriage is this cutie.” Jin coos at his niece and you have half the mind to withdraw his Chanmi visiting card because whenever he was over all he did was berate you and your … unique ways of parenting.

But Jin would still say he cared for you as far as a brother-in-law would but with the added benefit of the fact that he was your best friend before he became your brother-in-law. You were an interesting character, to say the least, and the only reason you managed to befriend Jin was due to the fact that you didn’t know what boundaries meant and had invaded his personal space on the first day of lectures when you leaned over him to throw something at a know-it-all. Jin had been annoyed, but then an unlikely friendship bloomed out of the mutual distaste for ‘Howard from Accounting’.

He introduced you to Namjoon just because he thought that it was hilarious that you and his brother were polar opposites. Jin didn’t even expect the two of you to get along with each other let alone fall in love, but life had a funny way of saying ‘fuck you and your expectations’ to Jin when he least expected it.

The only thing that he regrets is the fact that now he had to listen to both you and his brother whine about your sex life, or lack thereof after the two of you became parents. Being a mother was hard because there was no manual to tell you what was right or wrong when it came to your baby but the experience itself. When you first fed Chanmi softened shrimp in her meals and caused an allergic reaction; you cried for hours straight because you felt like you should’ve just known.

Namjoon was a good partner and an even better father because he was understanding. The first few months postpartum he respected the fact that you weren’t ready to show your body to him because of the way it changed after giving birth to Chanmi, and he never told you that you were in your head for feeling that way. He validated all your feelings through all the rough edges that you gave him when you were going through your own things.

You finally felt comfortable to get naked around Namjoon at the five-month mark where your sex drive returned to that of when you were in your early twenties and just begun knowing how to truly enjoy sexual intimacies with a partner, but a five-month-old baby didn’t allow for much intimacy with your hot ass husband either.

It sucked because Namjoon had always been broad and very dad-like, and after he officially became a father to Chanmi you just felt like salivating over him every waking second you got because … God … Namjoon was a gift from the God’s themselves. Whenever you saw the way he handled Chanmi with absolute gentleness and care you felt like dropping to your knees and sucking the soul out of him. It didn’t help that he wore his glasses every night when he tucked her into bed and read her Shakespeare because it would ‘help with development’. You loved your husband but he was a little excessive.

“Oh God stop drooling over my brother!” Jin grimaces when he sees the bedroom eyes you were shooting Namjoon from where the two of you were with Chanmi.

You sigh dreamily and lean against your palm as you check out Namjoon’s ass.

“I can’t help that your brother and my husband has an ass like that.” You click your tongue.

Chanmi giggles again and it’s like a bell chiming at your favourite cafe when you cuddle her closer, feeling comfort in her scent. She smelt just like home and bubbles.

“How about I give you a sibling, huh?” You whisper to Chanmi who just opens her mouth to babble. Jin on the other hand facepalms himself and sighs.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’m horny.” You shrug.

“Correction: you’re insufferable on a daily basis but absolutely horrifying to deal with when you’re horny.” He sneers.

“I just need to bed him and I’ll be fine.” You drawl, as your husband who spent the better half of your conversation fixing the wine glass grins to himself with his dimples when he finally placed the last piece of glass back into place. He was so meticulous and cute for the wrong reasons.

“Jesus, stop …” Jin groans.

“Jesus would definitely tell me to go get that dick because I deserve it.” You pat yourself on the back and wince slightly when you smell the telltale signs of Chanmi’s poop permeating the air.

“Say … would Yoongi mind having Chanmi over your place for the weekend?” Jin recognizes the devious expression you have on your face and knows that there’s no way out of it.

“I don’t have a choice do I?” Jin sighs.

You shake your head.

“Nope. Cause’ I texted Yoongi yesterday and said he totally wants to see his niece. The baby bag is all ready to go and it’s in the nursery.” You cock your thumb to the room down the hallway and Jin thinks to himself of all the reasons why he shouldn’t have introduced you to his brother at all seven years back.

“It’s weird without her …” Namjoon frowns as the two of you stand in the nursery as if you were mourning the loss of your child. It felt a lot like it, though.

The two of you never spent more than a few hours away from Chanmi ever since she was born and it felt weird to not smell her vomit from the kitchen or hear her giggles as you cooked dinner. You missed Namjoon and the spark you had in the first years of your relationship but you also felt a little empty without Chanmi’s presence with you.

“I miss her.” You whine into Namjoon’s chest and he clutches you tightly as if to say that he mirrored your sentiment.

“Should we call them?” You look up at him with wide eyes and he smoothes the frown lines on your forehead and chuckles, offering a gentle kiss to your temples.

“We called fifteen minutes ago, remember?” He chides you gently.

You huff, “I just … it’s so quiet. Where are my baby babbles?” You pout.

Namjoon sighs and rubs his thumb comfortingly on your arm when you look around at the purple nursery with reminders of your daughter that wasn’t currently with you.

“Let’s enjoy what we have, okay love?” Namjoon offers, “I miss Chanmi too but I miss this too.”

You smile at him the way he first fell in love with you years ago and leans down to place a peck onto your lips.

“I miss having you all to myself.” He whispers against your lips and you shiver at the way his broadness is clouding all your senses.

“You always have me Joon.” You tell him in a tone as soft as his.

His chest rumbles when he laughs and you feel so warm in the comfort of your husband's arms and you felt it too. Besides the physical aspect of having sex with him, you missed holding him like this without a care in the world. Most of your cuddle sessions were left to the nights you slept next to each other in bed because the two of you were either exhausted with work or trying to care for Chanmi. It’s been a long time since you could just feel Namjoon’s presence with you.

“Besides … we can finally, you know …” He mumbles shyly into your hair and the devil horns that you hide most of the time reappear.

“What, Joon?” You smirk up at him, hands trailing slowly down his chest.

Your husband was so big that every room he walked into he basically commanded the attention of every single person that would come across him. That’s what happens when you’re six foot and broad like him. But you loved the fact that you were the only one that got to see the much softer side to him that he didn’t just show anyone. The fact that he was the CEO of his own company made his persona ever more intimidating than he actually was but you knew he was a huge softie on the inside.

The two of you were very different in many senses. From your personalities to the way you approached conflict. Namjoon was very diplomatic but you were anything but. He was truly the most empathetic and understanding person you’ve met in your entire life and you’ve seen a total of ten therapists in your teenage years. Namjoon was the balance that levelled your temper and uninhibited tendencies to always be the loudest person in every room. With every time you snarked at someone who pushed your buttons came Namjoon that placed a gentle hand on your back with a soft whisper of comfort.

In fact, most people thought the two of you would have never lasted. You heard those mean girls in college that made petty bets on the fact that you’d probably end up leaving him because you were too much of a bitch to deal with someone as kind as Namjoon. You remembered most of your fights being about your insecurities and how you always thought that Namjoon deserved better and with him telling you that you were the one for him.

Looking back, you laugh because the two of you were theoretically horrible for each other but exactly what the other needed. Namjoon needed someone free-spirited enough to manage his meticulous tendencies and you needed someone willing to see you for more than your erratic behaviour.

“What’s that pretty head of yours thinking about?” Namjoon hums when he realises you’re not paying attention to him anymore. He clasps your hands together to bring back your attention to him as you look up at him with eyes so full of love.

“Just reminiscing on the old days.” You tell him and he snorts.

“You say that as if we’re ancient.”

“You’re not fooling anyone. I heard your joints cracking when you bent down to pick up the strands of hair on the floor.” You tease.

“And who’s fault is it that I’m constantly bending over to pick up strands of hair because she sheds like a cat?” He retorts playfully.

“We’re both old.” You pout, playing with his fingers and admiring the glimmer of his wedding ring. You can’t believe you bagged a man like Namjoon.

“I still got it, though.” He adds thoughtfully and you raise an eye at his comment.

“Got what?”

“My game.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively and you burst out laughing because it was so on-brand for Namjoon to make a comment like that but blush when you got a little more touchy-feely with him when he least expected it.

“How about you show me then?” You whisper as you turn around to press yourself against his chest, ensuring that your cleavage was on full show to his line of vision when he looks down at you.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love your tits after the pregnancy?” He tells you breathily and you snort.

“So you didn’t like my tits before I gave birth to your child?”

He rolls his eyes and reaches his hands below your thighs to lift you up so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. The way he could effortlessly carry you and lift you up always made your heart and nether regions flutter because he was so big that he basically towered over you. Especially when he became a dad it was like his hot factor exploded exponentially. He basically became the epitome of a dilf.

“You and your mouth,” He tsks as he carries you out of the nursery and into your bedroom, “I just may need to shut you up.”

You whine into his chest before he tosses you down onto your mattress as he towers over you, looking over your body like you were the finest piece of art he’s ever seen. Namjoon always had ways to make you feel like a million bucks even though you were in an old camisole and your old college varsity sweatpants.

“Why don’t you do it then?” You tease back.

You were different from the women that Namjoon has been with prior to your seven-year-long relationship as most of them were pliant and quiet, and took whatever he gave to them. Don’t get him wrong, he loved playing the dominant character in bed but he also needed a brat to push his buttons and it was exactly what you were. Even if the two of you were so fundamentally different in personalities, the two of you were definitely sexually compatible.

“Flip over.” He demands and you whine before reluctantly turning over.

“I want to see you.” You whine petulantly.

You feel him rather than have him verbally respond to you because he delivers a tight slap to your ass as you gasp at the impact. He rubs his hands soothingly over your butt cheeks and squeezes them as he leans over your body, crowding your back with his body heat.

“Don’t be a brat ___.” He sneers into your ear and the moan is stuck on your throat when you feel him drag his hands all over your body until it reaches under your body to reach for your tits.

“Fuck. I love your tits.” He groans.

Namjoon’s hands immediately trail down your body until they reach the hem of your shorts and you wiggle your ass back at him teasingly. You hear him growl and you always knew that Namjoon was an ass man and your ass made him weak.

“Need I remind you that you’re in no position to tease, sweetheart?” He whispers into your ear and you feel the goosebumps erupt on the surface of your skin.

“Fuck. Please—Joon, touch me.” You gasp as you feel him pull down your shorts to be greeted with a cheeky pair of panties that left little to imagine of what hides underneath. Your husband had the talent of getting you obscenely wet without doing much and it’s proven again when you feel the uncomfortable ache between your legs as he flips your body over once again to get a good glimpse of your heaving body, as well as the stain on your panties.

His knuckles trace the inner side of your thigh carefully as he avoids the place you need him the most while you feel more wetness pool at your entrance. You’ve been deprived of his touch for way too long and that caused your sensitive reactions to anything that he did. You missed his fingers so much and having him so close yet so far away from your pussy was destroying your restraint.

“Namjoon p-please!” You cry when he finally cups your mound with his large palm.

He digs the heel of his palm straight into your clit as you arch your back and let out a low moan.

“So wet baby and I’ve barely done anything.” He taunts you with the low baritone of his voice.

“You make me so wet Joonie.” You pant when you feel him grind his palm into your clit some more, providing the satisfying friction that you’ve been craving.

The feeling doesn’t last long because he’s hastily removing your panties from your legs and tosses them somewhere over his shoulder. His face is directly in front of your pussy and you can’t help but feel flustered at the proximity of his breath to your hole. You’ve done this a million times before but the familiarity is slightly lost due to the time between the last and the present.

“Where’s the brat that couldn’t shut her mouth before, hm?” He mumbles and you feel every breath against your pussy. You squirm and feel his large hands wrap around your thighs, locking you into position so you wouldn’t be able to move.

“It’s just been so—ah—long,” You tell him breathily.

“Too long. Missed this pussy.” He says as a parting gift before he dives straight into your clit and begins to lap rounds over the hardened bud. You let out a high pitched moan at the pleasure he was providing you with just his tongue alone, and the way that he knew just where to focus on your clit with tense figure-eights.

“Ah—ah, fuck—Joon!” You groan as your hands wrap around his hair to tug at it. You feel him moan against your pussy, which sends vibrations up to your core and causes more wetness to pool at your centre.

Namjoon is relentless when he digs his hands harder into the meat of your thighs to prevent you from moving too much as he continues to suction on your clit, focusing his attention on it as much as he could. After years of being together, he just knew what you loved and this was it.

You liked it messy. Wet and fast, and Namjoon always gave it to you good. He pulls away momentarily so he could look up at you with a hooded gaze and you let out a high pitched whine when you see the glistening of his chin all the way up to his nose with the signs of your wetness staining him. His fingers run up your thighs teasingly and you shift under his ministrations only for him to smack your right thigh harshly.

“If you move you don’t get to cum.” He threatens you and you immediately still your body with the impossible threat.

You feel his fingers run up and down on your slit as he gathers all your wetness into one place, hovering slightly over your clit. You have to keep your whine to a minimum because Namjoon got real mean when he wanted to. But he was a good lover—so good.

Your hole is throbbing with a need to be filled, and your husband picks up on that immediately as he prods your entrance with the tip of his index finger. You attempt to grind down on him as you make eye contact with the dark eyes that threaten to take away your orgasm.

“I said. Don’t. Move.” He reminds you.

You whimper in silence as he teases your hole a little more before he decides to return home into the warmth of your walls. The moment that barrier was broken, you feel him go straight for the hook as he reaches his index finger all the way up until his knuckles. You hear Namjoon hiss under his breath as he begins prodding your walls until he finds—

“Fuck—there, Joon—ah!” You gasp, head tilting backwards when your husband finds your g-spot.

Namjoon smirks to himself and slides another finger in to hook them upwards into your g-spot, unmoving as he stills himself against the area; causing pure, unaltered pleasured to run through your veins. You’re vibrating and twitching all at once because you can’t control the involuntary response that comes with your husband's demon fingers that are causing every possible pleasurable feeling to run through your system.

You can’t keep the moan to yourself either as Namjoon looks at you with awe, but you miss it because your eyes are too busy being rolled to the back of your head at the way Namjoon skilfully thrusts into your pussy.

“H-Harder, p-please Joon—wanna cum so bad.” You moan and run your fingers through his hair to bring his mouth closer to your mound.

He lowly chuckles and shakes his head at your sex drive. And the next thing he does next nearly makes you cum on the spot.

The way he gathers his spit at the back of his throat was borderline pornographic as you see the way his throat revs up. He drops the glob of spit directly onto your clit and uses the hand that wasn’t in your pussy to spread the lubricant all over your slit. He purposefully grazes your clit but doesn’t apply enough pressure to make your head spin, but just enough for you to whine in want.

“Your pussy is so pretty love.” He coos, leaning into your mound to deliver kitten-licks to your clit, and the warmth of his tongue with the added addition of his fingers feels all too much.

“J-Joon!” You gasp when you feel him thrust his fingers rapidly in and out of your pussy that your body hitched up the surface of the bed. Every thrust was accompanied by the direct assault of his tongue on your clit as he presses down on the hardened bud with the purpose to drive you closer to your orgasm.

You were painfully close, and the precision of his fingers at your g-spot allows you to revel in the way the coil in your body is ready to snap, so close to release. Namjoon leans down so that his head is where you love him the most, between your thighs as he scores the final goal and presses his tongue against your clit.

“Oh my god Joon—fuck—s-so good—I’m gonna cum!” Your back arches off the bed uselessly because of the way that Namjoon uses his other hand to pin you down, arms wrapped tightly around your stomach.

“Come for me pretty girl.” He coos against your clit and the vibrations is what sends you over the edge.

He fucks his fingers into you as you orgasm, kitten licking your clit with just enough pressure for you to whine as you buck your hips up into his mouth involuntarily.

“Fuck. Baby—hurts.” You whine, pushing his head away from your pussy when the overstimulation gets to you.

Namjoon places one last teasing peck on your clit, which causes you to twitch and pinch his neck as he chuckles, dragging his hand up your body to bring you closer to him.

“Still got it, hm?” He whispers against the column of your neck as you roll your eyes.

“Just kiss me you fool.” You pull him in for a kiss, and your tongue immediately finds its place home in Namjoon’s mouth.

It’s probably because it’s been so long since the two of you could feel each other like this, without any rush to get it over with but with the freedom to enjoy each other’s bodies as much as you’d like. Namjoon’s hands were the truth of that as he trails his arms down the sides of your waist and tugs you closer to him by your hips until he reaches for the hem of your camisole to tug it off your body.

He grabs the mounds of flesh in his hands and squeezes them hard enough to cause another gush of wetness to drip down the side of your thighs and onto his sweatpants. Besides the fact that he delivered a mind-blowing orgasm to you, the stained wetness of his sweatpants from his pre-cum and your slick is enough for you to push him down onto the bed.

“I’m gonna suck your cock.” You kiss him on the lips one last time before you’re leaning down to palm him over his sweatpants.

He hisses above you and grabs the back of your neck lovingly that it has you snorting.

“You know if you’re laughing at my dick my feelings are going to be very hurt,” Namjoon says from above you.

“It’s just …” You shake your head and giggle as you clench your fist around the outline of Namjoon’s cock as he lets out a low breath of approval at your action.

“You used to shove my head onto your cock the moment I reached your pants and now you’re so soft.” You tease.

You hear his breath hitch and the grip on your neck tighten at your taunting words. The excitement already pooling in your stomach at the roughness that would ensue from your husband.

“Me? Soft? Is that what you want baby?” His tone is warning and you know he’s serious.

You shake your head as you look up at him with innocent eyes, a stark contrast to the hand that continues to fondle his balls over his sweatpants.

“Don’t be a bitch and take my cock out.” He sneers, and you smile to yourself cheekily—knowing you hit a sore spot.

You happily oblige as you pull Namjoon’s sweats down to be greeted with your husbands cock. The visual itself has your pussy throbbing, and every time you’re faced with it, you always burn with the prospect of his thick cock pounding into your pussy.

“Now suck it like a good girl.” He guides your head towards his dick but you’re proactive enough to fully start licking at his tip, tongue teasing his slit as you hear him let out a low groan.

Your eyes are locked on his figure, as his head is thrown back. You want to grind on the sheets but you know that would delay him fucking you so you decide against it. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate the visual that your husband was giving you from where you were.

Namjoon had always been handsome. But there’s something about seeing him throw his head back in pleasure because of you that has your stomach churning with pride. You’d shamelessly admit that you were more on the possessive side, purely because you knew there were many men and women out there who desired Namjoon in more ways than one; and you didn’t like sharing one bit.

You spit onto his dick as your hands worked the rest of the length that you didn’t engulf in your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks to create a suction. Your tongue begins to tease the underside of his shaft, the way he likes the most and you know he’s enjoying your focus there because the hand that grips your neck is now tightly clutching your hair in a fist.

“Fuck. That’s it, baby.” He groans.

Motivated by the praise, you sink deeper, hands resting on his thick thighs as you push yourself until your nose reaches his pelvis. You’ve taken his cock like a champion on many occasions, and you can only thank him for that like the numerous times he had to guide you down on his cock were probably the only reason why your tiny throat could welcome his thick girth.

The sounds of you chocking on his dick was a lot for Namjoon, mainly because he couldn’t get enough of his wife but also because he’s been waiting out to bust a nut down your throat—actually your pussy—so long that he can’t handle the onslaught of pleasure your mouth brings him.

“Baby—baby,” He tugs you off his cock and the redness around your cheeks with the tears that pool at your waterline is enough to make his heart soar. Even though you were nasty in bed, he loved every single part of your forwardness.

“Your mouth is amazing but I need to cum in your pussy.” He tells you.

You whine at his declaration and allow him to manhandle you until you were face down ass up, ass pressed tightly against his pelvis as you grind your wet cunt over the hardness of his dick.

“Fuck—you’re so wet, baby. You like sucking my cock?” He growls, arms reaching around your stomach to pull your body flush against his chest.

When you reach your hand to wrap around his head to balance yourself, you see a view of your bodies together in your mirror. Courtesy of when you first moved in and due to you and Namjoon’s egocentric tendencies of wanting to see you guys fucking each other.

“S-So much Joon.” You garble.

His hand reach down to cup your mound and digs his palm into your clit as you grind down against his hand. You feel him loosely trace over your clit to gather your wetness into his hand to lather it over his dick.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He whispers in your ear when he lines his cock against your entrance.

You whine, excitement erupting inside of you—until he finally slides it.

It definitely takes you by surprise because your husband was big. And the fact that you haven’t had his dick in you for months made it much more of a pleasant surprise when he bottoms out completely in one swift thrust of his hips, which causes your body to fall forward as your hands grip the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck. This tight pussy’s mine, right?” He growls.

You nod your head into the sheets as he begins with a few experimental thrusts as you adjust to the slight, yet pleasurable, sting in your lower half.

Until you squeeze his hand on your hip to give him the go, Namjoon settles for slow thrusts into your pussy, but it’s enough to prod at your pleasurable spot because not only is Namjoon smart, kind, funny, handsome and ridiculously a great father—he is phenomenal at sex. Probably why he knocked you up on the night of your honeymoon with your bundle of joy.

Namjoon begins snapping his hips into yours relentlessly like a man starved, and starved he was. He’s missed the wet heat of your pussy; and God did he love your daughter—but he missed this—your pussy.

“F-Fuuuuu—” You’re heaving.

Namjoon continues to thrust into your pussy, angling his hips upwards so that he’d reach places deeper than ever as your eyes roll to the back of your heart in pleasure.

“Fuck—this—tight—pussy—” His words follow the sharpness of his thrusts and you don’t even know where to grab because all your sensations are heightened, especially when Namjoon reaches a hand down to your clit to begin rubbing it vigorously.

“Nam—Joon!”

You’re so wet that the squelch of his thrusts is echoed in your bedroom, and the only thing you hear besides that is your loud moans and the heavy breathing coming from Namjoon.

It’s only when he plants his knees firmly into the mattress and brings your hips to meet his thrusts is when you feel your pussy clench uncontrollably around his cock as you wail out his name.

“Fuck, baby—you’re clenching—so—hard.” He groans, pushing his hips deeper into your pussy.

“Love your cock,” You moan, “Fuck—Joon, please—fuck your cum into me.”

“Yeah?” He grits his teeth and flips your over effortlessly, dragging your leg over his shoulder as he begins pounding into you even harder as he admires the way your face contorts in pleasure.

“Yeah.” You nod your head like a sex-crazed maniac because your husband was just too good with his hips.

“Gonna give you another baby.” He whispers when he leans down into your face as your eyes widen at his declaration. Your pussy reacts too, gushing out even more wetness as it becomes tighter around Namjoon’s cock.

“Fuck. You like that idea? A sibling for Chan’?” He grinds his pelvis into your clit as his words spur your second orgasm for the night on.

“No shit?” You gasp when he revs up his spit in the back of his throat, looking at your mouth invitingly.

“Yeah,” He says breathlessly, and you open your mouth to welcome his tongue when he drops the glob of spit down your throat.

You whine, feeling your orgasm coming so closely.

“Fuck Joon—I’m gonna cum.” You gasp.

You feel Namjoon’s hips stutter and you know he’s coming soon too.

“Me too baby.” He tells you while giving you the set of most adoring eyes ever. Even as he’s fucking you into the next dimension, Namjoon makes you feel so utterly loved and whole that you can’t imagine spending the rest of your life with anyone else.

He snaps his hips the hardest he’s ever done throughout the entire night, and you feel your pussy throb so much; signalling to you and Namjoon that your release was right there.

“Baby—I’m gonna—I’m gonna c-cum,” You grab onto his shoulder to pull him closer to you.

He welcomes it and leaves open mouth kisses onto your mouth as he fucks into you like a mad man.

“Cum.”

That’s all it takes for you to reach an explosive orgasm, one that quite literally causes you to blank out for a second because while Namjoon’s hot cum spurts into your pussy short after you came, he feels your body go limp in his embrace; causing his eyes to widen.

Only until you’re blinking up at him dazedly is when he holds you to his chest, as you feel his chest rumble when he chuckles.

“Baby … I thought you died.” He cards a hand through your hair and you smile at him, stupidly in love.

“If I die because of your dick I’d be happy.” You grin at him cutely. And he scoffs at the way you look so cute after you’ve been fucked to hell and back.

“My horny little monster,” He flicks your forehead as you bring him close to your chest, his dick still settled inside of you. But there was a sort of intimacy that you couldn’t quite put words to, but welcomed the gesture nevertheless.

“Were you serious?” You ask after a while of sharing a few intimate pecks to each others’ lips.

He finally pulls out to roll on his side as he reaches over to pull your close to his chest. He raises an eyebrow at your expression when you feel his cum leak out of you.

“God you really didn’t jack off recently, did you?” You ask.

He pecks you on the nose as he quickly tugs clean boxers over his legs and disappears into your on-suite. You sigh to yourself dreamily, thinking of how lucky you were to be with someone as loving and compassionate as Namjoon was.

You weren’t necessarily unlucky when it came to your relationships prior to him, but there would always be dealbreakers that caused splits to be more bitter than neutral. Namjoon was the only man in your life that you could speak to without fearing any judgement from because he wasn’t like that. He knew how to make you feel wanted and also how to want yourself, all while being your best friend and partner.

When he returns, he returns with a damp cloth and immediately begins cleaning up the mess between your thighs, even as he cheekily mentions how there was more from where that came from as you slap him on the shoulder.

Once he ensures he’s satisfied, he tosses the cloth into the laundry basket and grabs a big t-shirt of his to slip it over your body. You hum in satisfaction as his scent overwhelms you, even more so when he tugs you close to his body and he looks at you with all the love in the world.

“You asked if I was serious earlier?” He repeats your question and you nod your head looking up at him.

“Yeah.” You let out a breathy smile when he leans down to pull your face towards his own as you admire all the freckles and pores on his skin, fingers tracing loosely over the wrinkles that come with age.

“I know it’s sudden but … I’ve been thinking about our family and—I want our family to become bigger.” He tells you like it’s a secret. You know he’s been mulling over it for quite a while because he looks a little unsure of himself, but all you can do is smile widely at him.

“Really?” You ask, playing with the hair on the back of his neck when you feel his fingers trace over the skin on your back.

“Of course. I love you, and I love Chanmi. I’ve always wanted kids and you brought the best gift in my life to me and … I can’t explain how happy I am when I’m with the two of you.” He smiles at you gently.

You don’t know if it’s because he just fucked you so good, or was it because you were lovesick, but your eyes water because Namjoon was Namjoon.

“But—if you’re not ready then I understand and we can—”

“Yes.” You interrupt him.

His eyes widen as you see the excitement begin to pour into his irises.

“Wait—really?” He asks innocently.

You nod your head and kiss him on the lips softly, no rush as he returns the gesture, holding you close onto his chest where you feel the best in his arms.

“Yes really. I want what you want. And I think it’s about time Chanmi gets a sibling, no?” You tease.

He groans like you’re unreal as he buries his head into the crook of your neck as you caress him gently. Namjoon was really just like an oversized baby and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“When?” He asks.

You tease your fingertips down to his chest and offer him a knowing look.

“Now?” You feign indifference but you can see the wide grin he sports on his face.

“Fuck. Don’t say that. I think my dick is going to fall off at how hard I fucked you just now,” He whined.

“You’re getting old,” You massage his shoulders as he sighs.

“I am …” He acknowledges, “But we’ll grow old together, right?”

The prospect of a future of unknowns with Namjoon only makes your heart bloom. You nod your head, not another word need to be uttered as he holds you in his arms, excited for what’s to come.

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kirishoshego · 3 years

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Strange Addiction Pt.1//Bakugo

Summary: Bakugou and you meet during his weekend trip. He didn’t know you would be new in town, you didn’t know he had a girlfriend Words: 6k+

Part 2 Note: I will use the letter X as a friend of You in the beginning. X is gender neutral, so can be anyone you feel the most comfortable with :) TW: kinky sex, choking, spanking, spitting, hair pulling, oral (female and male receiving), face fucking, orgasm denial, overstimulation, playing with your chest, praise and degrading (only a bit), cockwarming (only mentioned shortly, not extremely detailed), him suggesting that you call him sir (will appear later again, in another part), mention of being in an kind of abusive relationship (him) considering his girlfriend is manipulating him, cheating

The bass was pumping through your veins, as did the alcohol. These were the last nights you would spend in your old home town before your new life in Musutafu begun. It was a big move, scary, but necessary. You only had one friend there who was happy to let you stay at her place until yours is done. “I can’t believe I have to wait like six month to see you again,” X told you with a sad smile. “Me neither, it’s crazy how fast time flies by, but I can’t wait to see Mina again, it has been so long since I last saw her,” you replied, swaying your hips from side to side, your eyes catching a certain blond on the bar. He looked rather bored, his eyes glued to his phone as he read something, sending a reply quickly before putting it away into his pocket. “Go talk to him! Having a one night stand still stands on your list and he’s really good looking!” they nudged you into the direction and you decided to try your luck. The worse he could say is no and you’re only here for 105 hours. The bartender immediately acknowledged you when you arrived, which caused the buff man next to you to huff out in annoyance. “Of course she notices the pretty girl first,” he muttered under his breath, checking his phone again. “What can I get for you?” she asked you, a glass in her hand and a smile on her face. “I would love this and a Rum Coke,” the bartender went her way and you could see the man starring at you irritated. “I could have handled this just fine,” he told you, a certain roughness to his voice. You raised your eyebrow at him, taking your drink in hand, the other one also placed in front of you. “Who said the drink is for you hun?” you could see a hint of a blush appear on his cheeks. “I’m just kidding, here,” you pushed it over to him, watching him gulp it down in one go, relaxing once the glass met the bar. ″Are you with someone?” you asked him, not spotting a ring on his finger. If you weren’t drunk you would have noticed the few seconds of hesitation, but now you didn’t question his ‘No, I’m single,’ just happy to have a possible chance with the handsome stranger in front of you. “Should I ask what’s going on?” you pointed at his phone that was still in his veiny hand, a few notifications from “Shark-boy”. “No,” he put his phone back into his pocket, ordering a second round once you were done with your drink. ″I’m Y/N” you introduced yourself, as the bartender walked away to mix up the order. ″Bakugo,”

He warmed up to you quickly. You were easy to talk to and extremely good with advice. The two of your talked to two hours about everything that somehow came up and you found yourself mostly agreeing with the counter part. “Listen this is going to be super upfront and I’m sorry if that’s the case, but I have an apartment around the corner so if you wanna-” before you could finish your sentence he pulled you in for a hot, hungry kiss. “I’m in, let’s go,” he held your hand the whole time, stumbling and giggling on the streets. You opened the door to your small apartment, the moonlight shining into your living room. “Before we do shit, you’re okay with this right? Even if we’re drunk?” he held your face in his hands, looking into your eyes and you felt save. “Yes and now please just shut up and kiss me.” Before you knew it you were naked in your bed, his head between your legs and your hand in his hair. You were moaning out his name, his tongue spelling every letter of the alphabet. Two of his fingers were buried deep inside of you shortly after, curling up. Sure you have had sex before, but this? This is what people talked about when they said they couldn’t get enough of it, this is why it was so hyped in books and movies and songs. “Wanna share what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked, his voice husky as his eyes met your half closed ones. “Only that this is the best I ever had,” you blurred out, your eyes growing wide as you slapped your hand over your mouth. “I’m not surprised to hear that,” he smirked up to you, cocking his eyebrow before returning to your wet cunt. He made you cum twice with his tongue before crawling up to, his dick in one hand, going up and down your slit, his other hand holding him up. His shaft went into you, inch by inch. He was a bit bigger than what you were used to, what made him special was his width. His dick stretched you out nicely, it felt... perfect, like it was made just for you. His length made him hit the right spot every time, your nails digging into his skin but before you could scratch him he pulled you hands to the side of your head, restricting you while he pounded into you, the bed frame hitting the wall over and over again. You thanked whoever to thank that your neighbors were out for the weekend. Bakugo pulled your hands up over your head, one of his hands holding both of your wrists in place, his other hand wrapping around your marked throat. Nobody ever did this before and at first you were unsure if you would like it, but the moment he squeezed your sides you felt an immense pleasure run through your body. “Fuck Bakugo, I’m about to cum,” you moaned out and felt his thrust turn harder and-you didn’t think that was possible- faster. “When you cum on my dick I want you to look at me, got it? Might not let you cum the next time otherwise,” he warned you, a dark hue over his usual bright red eyes. Your chest rose up when you felt the knot in your stomach exploding, your mouth shaping an ‘o’ as you locked your eyes with his. “There we go, good girl,” he praised you, releasing himself in you. The both of you were breathing heavily. He stayed still for a moment and you could slowly feel him soften inside of you before he pulled out. “I have a hotel room that’s waiting for me,” he said, sitting up and pulling his shirt from the floor. “So no round two tomorrow?” you asked him, watching his back muscles flexing under his skin. “Already addicted?” Bakugo asked you as he put on his shirt. “Maybe,” you answered with a cheeky smile, watching him drop his pants back on the floor and lay back down. “Can’t leave a woman unsatisfied now can I? Would ruin my reputation,” he told you, turning towards you and watching your skin glow in the bright moonlight. “And we don’t want to risk that,” you mumbled, already half asleep, Bakugo following swiftly after. You woke up before him and decided to make a nice breakfast for the two of you. You went with pancakes, adding a few extras here and there, not sure what he likes but sure there has to be something nice you made. “Morning,” his sleepy voice was raspy and deep. “Hey, how was your sleep?” you asked him, offering a coffee which he gladly took out of your hand. “Nice, relaxing,” he answered shortly, needing some time to wake up properly. “Smells nice,” he pointed at the stacks of pancakes next to you, his stomach growling already. The two of you didn’t talk much, but you heard him humming when he first took a bite from your breakfast which you took as a good sign. “Hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable last night,” he started a conversation, making you choke a bit on your last bite. “With what exactly?” you asked Katsuki who had a small smile on his face. “Choking you,” he pointed at your neck, shifting in his seat. “Oh well... I uhm-” you stuttered, feeling a bit embarrassed all of the sudden. “Spit it out,” he demanded. “I liked it! It was just... new?” you were unsure if that was the answer he wanted to hear, feeling a bit stupid for being so unexperienced. “New? How so?” he noticed that you looked like a deer in headlight and he couldn’t deny the fact that he loved that look on your face. “It’s not like I was a virgin or anything! I just... The guys I slept with before were just b-” “Boring?” “I was going to go with basic, but I guess that fits too,” you laughed, feeling blood rush to your cheeks. “So you don’t know what type of shit you like?” Bakugo asked you, his eyes captivating you. “I mean, I thought about it and all but I don’t know for sure,” you shrugged your shoulders, suddenly getting extremely interested in the tiny crumps on your table, trying to look everywhere but him. “Tell me about them,” he told you, propping his head up with his fist. He noticed that you hesitated, looking down on the floor and not at him. “Come sit on my lap and tell me, now, that wasn’t a question Y/N” the blond pushed his chair back, patting his naked, muscular thigh. “Be a good girl,” his voice held a warning in it and the way he suddenly bossed you around made you feel excited. You got up and made your way over to him, standing in front of his relaxed body and fiddling with your fingers. Bakugo grabbed your hands and pulled you into his barely covered, muscular body. “I really don’t know. I mean I watch porn sometimes, but...” “What kind of porn?” he asked you, grabbing your thigh and drawing small circles, his fingers close to your sex. “Rough shit,” you mumbled. “What? I couldn’t understand a thing you said,” he could understand what you were saying, but he liked making you feel ashamed. “I like rough porn okay? I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t like thinking about it so having someone lead me through it would be nice, I think. But I don’t know if it feels the way I think it does and I don’t like talking about it because it’s so... So embarrassing and freaks others out...” you were rambling on and on, afraid that he wasn’t into it either and this will turn into a mess. Before you could say anything else he had covered your mouth with his hand. “Now here is how this will go: I will use that little body of yours and have my way with you. BUT and now this is the important part, I will not listen to your ‘no’s’ or ‘stop it’, they will only make me go harder, what I will listen to is Red and red only, understood?” he put his pointer finger under your chin and made you look into his deep eyes. You nodded your head, which earned you a warning pat on the cheek, a tiny sting lingering where his finger tips hit your skin. “Start using your voice Y/N or I will edge you until you pass out,” he seemed to enjoy the thought of this, his cock twitching in his boxers. “I’m sorry, I understand,” your voice was meek, a little unsure of what’s about to happen. “See, it’s not so hard, is it?” he raised his eyebrows when you were shaking your head, adding a ‘no’ quickly. “Good,” he smirked and pulled you in for a deep kiss, quickly slipping his tongue into your mouth, turning it into a wild make out session. His rough hands grabbed your ass cheeks, causing your breath to hitch. He landed a spank on your right cheek, a small moan slipping out of your mouth and into his. “You like getting that pretty ass spanked?” he asked you, nibbling on your neck. “I guess so,” you breathed out, grinding down on his hardening dick. “Guess so?” he spanked you harder and watched your face intensely, the way your lips fell open and your (Y/ec) eyes closed. “This is the first time someone spanked me,” you admitted, your eyes looking at him so innocently. Bakugo couldn’t wait to see them wet with tears. “Never? No spanking, no hair pulling, no choking? Nothing of the simple stuff?” he was genuinely surprised that not one men you came across showed you the beautiful world filled with kinks, rough fucking, toys, just everything. “Oh darling you’re in for a wild ride,” he felt like a small kid on Christmas. Well, what he imagined a small kid to fell on Christmas, but that’s besides the point. He wouldn’t think about you any less, definitely not, but the fact that he gets to show you all of these things, get to know your body more was just so fucking hot. He couldn’t wait to ruin you for anyone but him. A broad, veiny hand of Bakugo found it’s way into your hair, his other hand on your ass, massaging it and delivering a slap to it whenever he felt like it. Suddenly he pulled on your hair, making your head snap back and letting him attack your neck. He licked along your collar bone, up to your chin, biting the crotch of your neck. Soon he found a sensitive spot on your neck that you didn’t even knew existed, making you gasp out a ‘fuck’ your eyes closing as you ground yourself down harder on his shaft. “This feels so good,” you breathed out, which caused him to chuckle against your neck. Of course it does, he knew what he was doing after all. You didn’t expect him to stand up, but he did, supporting you under your ass with one arm, the other one opening the kitchen door to walk into your living room and then your bedroom. He held you close to him when he crawled onto your bed, you noticed that he had made it before joining you in the kitchen, forming a small smile on your face. The hand that was under your butt disappeared underneath your shirt, his skilled fingers playing with your hard nipples. You loved the feeling of his hands on your body. The roughness of them, his hands were warm and you could smell a dose of burned but still sweet caramel lingering in the air. He got rid of your very annoying shirt so he could look at you in your full glory. You looked so hot and ready for him. Your body was so sensitive to his touch, everything so new for you. He saw your pussy glistening in the sunlight that fell through your window, the same light that woke him up this morning to an empty bed. Bakugou definitely preferred it this way. His hand wandered down between your legs. Once his fingers fell onto your clit you closed your legs out of reflex, which apparently was not approved by the blond on top of you. “Open your legs back up for me darling,” he rasped into your ear, nibbling on it’s lobe. “Or what?” you asked him, prepping yourself up on your elbows. “Twenty minutes in and you’re already a brat,” he clicked his tongue before forcing your legs open, on one side his hand, the other side his elbow. His head found it’s place between your legs quickly, his tongue flicking in and out of his mouth on top of your clit, tongue sharp. Sometimes he would draw different pattern on your sensitive nub, his fingers inside of your cunt going up and down in a curling motion. Your hand soon pulled on Bakugo’s hair that was sticking in all directions. “Fuck Katsuki I’m about to cum, fuck, don’t stop,” you moaned, your hips grinding down on him. But right when you were about to release he completely disappeared from your throbbing core, leaving you hanging. “What the fuck Ba-” you rose up, looking at him in disbelieve. Before you could say more he stood up, his hand around your throat tightly as he pushed you down onto the mattress, towering over you. “Don’t fucking test me and don’t tell me what to do bitch, you’re going to cum when I decide to let you, your body is for me to use and that’s it,” his voice was deep, almost a growl as his red eyes pierced yours, looking down on you as he felt the pulsing in your neck. “Now show me how sorry you are,” he sat down against your headboard, watching you swallow before slowly getting up. Apparently you went too slow for his liking. Thus he grabbed you by your hair and guided you the way he wanted, pulling you in for a kiss before he opening your mouth with his other finger, spitting into it and shutting it again. “Don’t swallow, keep it in there,” his grip in your hair hardened again as he pushed you down to his throbbing member, pre cum already leaking out of the slit of his tip. “Ass in the air princess, let me look at it while you suck me,” he ordered. You did as you were told, putting on a little show for him. You really wanted him inside of you again, fill your little hole up with his thick cock. You wrapped your lips around his tongue, going up and down on his length. It was long enough for you to deep throat him, but you weren’t ready yet, having to prepare your throat for the stretch it will experience. Your hand wrapped around the part you couldn’t take in your mouth while the other one massaged his balls. You couldn’t hold both of them in one hand so you switched in-between them from time to time, feeling him buckle his hip up every now and then and a few groans and moans leaving his lips. “That’s all you want, hm? My dick inside you, just somewhere to fill you up, yeah you like that, my little whore,” he told you, watching the way his dick went in and out of your already swollen lips. “Open your mouth,” Bakugo’s hand was still in your hair, holding you in place in case you decide to act up. You let his dick fall from your mouth but held it up with your hand that stroked it, your fist squeezing it just right. What made him lost it was the way you sticked out your tongue, your hooded eyes looking up to him as a string of your mixed spit dribbled down on him. That view made him fuck your throat within seconds, one hand on your bedsheet, the other one in your hair. Bakugo’s dick put your throat on fire and tears well up in your eyes. If only you were wearing mascara, he thought. Next time. You couldn’t do much besides letting him abuse your mouth, your jaw opened as much as you could. It started to sting a bit after who knows how long. Drool was now all over his dick and pouring down your chin, all the way down to your tits. He could feel himself getting closer and closer so he pulled you off of him with a small pop. He pulled you up with him so he could lay you down on your back, watching your chest rose up and down like crazy, trying to catch your breath. “Would you look at that? Your cunt is so wet that it went all the way down to your knees, dirty girl,” he pulled your legs up, one hand at the back of your knees, his other hand lining himself up on your sloppy pussy. He slipped into you without any problems but he noticed the way you tensed up when he was balls deep in you. “You didn’t feel this big yesterday,” you gasped, your hands gripping the bedsheet underneath you tightly. “Aw, does it hurt?” he fake concerned, stoking your cheek before slapping you, his hand now around your throat. “Good,” he growled, his thrust becoming harder. Bakugou fucked you with your legs thrown over one of his shoulders, your hole now tight around him as you laid underneath him, a moaning mess. His other hand was on your stomach, holding you down so you wouldn’t rise up every time he hit your g-spot. You wanted to touch yourself, so close to your release. But he slapped it away, now holding your hands besides your face, his fingers inlaced with yours. “You either cum because of my cock or not at all,” the buff man told you, watching your helpless expression. He changed the position slightly, pounding into you, hitting your g spot every single time, pushing you to your release within seconds. Before you had the chance to catch your breath Bakugo turned you, handling you as if you weighted nothing. He pulled you up so your ass was in the air. He tapped it once, twice, leaving your cum and his pre cum all over your ass cheeks. Then he went back in without warning. He was buried deep inside of you, pulling you up by your throat, your body now flush against his as his other hand found it’s way to your clit, flicking and pinching it. It was after your fourth orgasm that you were a mess, not able to form any understandable sentences, only mumbling out words for him to interpret the way he wanted to. “So good! Mh... So fucking big, wan’ more,” you told him as he had you in the mating press, close to his own release. “You’re a cock hungry little whore huh? Thought it hurt?” “No! No hurt... Fuck, ‘m a whore,” you said to him, looking at him with hazy eyes. “Tell me princess, have you ever had something in here?” he asked you, his fingers circling around your untouched hole. You shook your head no, causing him to spank you hard enough to leave a mark behind. “Speak up,” “No, never,” you moaned out, the sensation of having him inside of you while he played with your ass. “Guess there will be a lot of first times then, huh?” he told you, his fingers slipping into your tight hole. He didn’t give you enough time for stretching, he knew that. But the way your moans just poured from your lips and how you would push yourself up to his fingers, wanting more in there because it felt so, so good, just made it impossible for him. He pushed his tip into you and for a short moment you thought you were going to die. Bakugo didn’t wait long before shoving himself in more and more, the tears falling from your eyes just pleasing him more. It took a while but after he was completely inside of you he stayed still, kissing your shoulder up and down and sucking on your sweet spot. Neither one of you expected you to be the first one to move but once the pain went away you felt so needy for him to abuse even that hole. Wanted him to stretch you out and let you know that he is the only one that could make you feel like this. Bakugo couldn’t believe that you fucked yourself on his dick, whimpering out his name, your mouth open as drool formed a small puddle underneath you. He really almost fucked your brain out. Of course he took that opportunity to pound into you, groping your ass and spanking it over and over again to leave his hand prints on your ass. “Cum for me one more time,” he ordered, his hand wandering to your tits, playing with them roughly. It didn’t take long and you screamed out his name, your legs almost numb and your body basically on fire, but you loved it. Bakugo pulled out of you, pumping his length a few times before painting your ass and back with his cum. The both of you were a panting mess, covered in sweat and you also in tears and spit. Once he was halfway back to his strength he pulled up his t-shirt, cleaning you so he wouldn’t make a mess when he pulled you to him. The blond didn’t know what was happening but he found himself completely relaxed, playing with your hair and caressing your back as you were next to him, sound asleep. Two hours later you sat in his rented car on his way to the hotel to get him some new clothes and check out so he wouldn't have to pay for another night. As you went to open the door he came to your side and opened it for you, catching your smile. Before you could walk to the lobby he extended his hand towards yours, an annoyed look in his face. “Take my hand dumbass,” he groaned and took yours in his. “Sorry, I’m not used to this,” you told him sheepishly. “What?” he asked confused. “Having someone show affection to me in public,” he clicked his tongue again before pulling you into the hotel with him. “Oh Mister Bakugo, you’re back!... And you are?” the girl behind the counter asked you, some venom, almost not noticeable, in her voice. “None of your business,” he told the girl off without really looking at her, passing by and going to the elevator. “I will be checking out today, prepare the papers for that,” he barked at the girl before pushing you into the metal cube with him. “Oh Mister Bakugo,” you repeated her, shaking your chest in front of him. “Sir for you, if you want to address me properly,” he looked down to you, watching your flustered reaction. He pulled you into his side and gave you a kiss on the forehead before the elevator door opened again. He walked out and turned to you. “Move your ass woman, damn, did I fuck you that stupid?” he asked you shaking his head. “Oh shush, you know very well that you abused my...” you trailed off, walking, or well trying your best to, after him. “Your what? Say it,” he turned around, pushing you against the wall next to his door, his knee between your legs, his hand next your head. “That’s what I thought,” he whispered into your ear, releasing you as he heard another door open. Once he had collected his things the two of you went grocery shopping, deciding to make ramen at home with everything you wanted. You made him stop to look at a cute dog that passed by and he didn’t know what it was but something in him felt warm when he watched your eyes sparkle as you watched the pet pass by and tugged on his sleeve. There was so much the two of you could talk about, there was never an awkward silence between you. He couldn’t deny the fact that he started to like you. You reminded him of Kirishima a lot, so bubbly and full of energy. Kiri was alway there for him, always understood him. He stood by him even when he was a bit of an ass in high school, he would never admit that (because he was perfect) but he was glad he wasn’t as hotheaded as he was back then. Once he cut of ties with his mum, moved in the UA facility completely things were a bit different. And when he seriously harmed Kirishima in a fight because of his anger he knew he had to change something before losing his best friend. He loved how fascinated you were with his cooking skills. It fed his ego a bit and he loved the way you praised him for the smallest things. It was cute, really. After the two of you ate you asked him if he wanted to watch a movie and he agreed, but only if he gets to choose it. You agreed, but told him not to bore you, which ended in him threatening to stuff your mouth with his dick if you don’t quit being disrespectful to him. You only giggled and gave him the remote. At first the two of you sat up, close but not really touching. It was half into the movie when he noticed you were dozing off. He asked if you wanted him to stop the movie and go to bed but you denied ever closing your eyes. That made him smile and pull you into him, your head on his lap as he played with your hair absently.

You were knocked out within seconds. He was watching your chest rise up and down, your smell surrounding him, suffocating him. He got up quietly, careful not to wake you up. It would annoy him to the max if you were to push him to talk, not letting him think. He had to have a clear head for when he arrives back home.

The clock in your living room read one in the morning as he stepped outside on your small balcony. Pulling out his phone he turned down the brightness, reading through his best friend’s texts. K: Listen Bakubro, she’s manipulating you. Ngl, she reminds me a lot of your mom, which is NOT a positive thing Sorry, I know she’s a touchy subject... There was an audio, so he clicked on play: “She can’t play you like that, demand a break and then get mad at you for giving her time and if you do the other thing she’s pissed that you don’t respect her boundaries, she’s just playing with you at that point because she knows you’re about to enter the top three on the pro hero list. Which means: Money an- “And a lot of that! Just leave that b-” “Mina!” “What? She is a bi-” the memo cut of at this point and Bakugou rolled his eyes. He knew Kirishima was right but was he ready to leave? Maybe never find someone who’s willing to be with him again? Fuck that, he’s Bakugo Katsuki, Top Hero #4, strong, clever and hot. Lots of women want him, of course they do, of course they want Dynamight. “Notice how you didn’t say Bakugo, but rather your hero alias first?” he quietly mocked his psychologist, his thumb ghosting over a chat. He thought about you, how you made him feel, how open he could be, how he could be himself. But then again he only knew you for like 50 hours now and yes, the sex is amazing, absolutely, but what about... basically everything else? You were cute and beautiful and clever and you let him use you the way he wants to, but he didn’t know what you were like when you’re sad, when you’re angry. And yet, he couldn’t deny the way his body reacted to you. “Should I leave the two of you alone or...?! you trailed off, scaring Bakugo. “What the fuck?” he turned around, anger laced in his voice. “I noticed you couldn’t sleep, so I made tea,” you held up the two cups in your hands, smiling at him the best you could in your sleepy state. “And now?” he asked you, watching you cautiously as if he awaited a second head to grow out of your shoulder. “Now you drink your tea and-” “Talk?” he asked and you could notice a certain hint of annoyance. “Is that what you want?” you asked him, taking a sip of your warm beverage, leaning against the flower covered railing. “Does it matter?” he took in a deep breath, starring at the moon slowly going down at the horizon. “Of course. If you aren’t ready to talk then we shouldn’t. Sometimes it’ll confuse more than it helps, especially if you don’t have your thoughts in order, ” you explained to him and could see a small smile on his lips.

“Would you like to sleep?” you asked him after a yawn slipped out of his mouth. “I don’t think I can, just one of those nights,” he shrugged his shoulders, ready to make it through the night. You took the now empty cup in your other hand, putting it down in the kitchen before returning, pulling Bakugo into your bedroom. He watched you as you went into the bed, pulling the blanket away from you and patting the empty space. “Put your head on my chest,” you told him and he did, hearing your soft heart beat against your rib cage. Your hand drew lazy pattern over his back, the other hand in his hair, massaging his head. Suddenly you started humming a lullaby, the vibration in your chest and the way you took care of him made him fall asleep faster than he would have thought. The next morning was amazing. You had woken him up with a blow job and he made you his favorite breakfast. You ate together and he talked to you about the upcoming weeks. Now you found out why he seemed so familiar. Of course, Mina would always tell you about ‘Kacchani’ who was about to be a big hero in her (and soon your) country. You felt a bit embarrassed about the fact you didn’t immediately recognized him, but he only laughed about it. It was nice to know you were like this to him because of who he was as a person and not because he was a big hero. You decided not to tell him you will move to his home town, you might not even run into each other and he seemed so busy, he shouldn’t feel obligated to meet up with you or anything. Most probably because he doesn’t want you and maybe him to feel bad about just spending the weekend together, fuck and then leave. And Mina shouldn’t find out about this for a while too, maybe when you moved out, otherwise she wouldn’t let it go. He thought it was great idea to have you cockwarming him while you had to write emails for your job. Every now and then he would thrust his hips, fuck you for a few seconds just to stop as fast as he started. After you finished every email, which took up to an hour, leaving you a whimpering mess, begging him to just pound into you, he finally had mercy on you and took you right there on the kitchen table. Bakugo had to leave soon but before that the two of you exchanged numbers. His idea, not yours. He left you with a kiss on your forehead and butteries in your belly. The week afterwards was weird. You were stressed out, only two days left before the big move. You checked everything twice, checking up on your new apartment, how far it was and how long it will take to be done. Your things will be shipped there already, so it won't stand in Mina’s apartment, but that made you double check your bags that you packed for the three weeks that you were about to spend with your old friend. Of course you and Bakugo texted back and forth, sending stupid pictures to one another and talking about your day.

Sometimes he would rant to you about how stupid someone was, how slow they walked or how shitty they drove. He even told you about a barista getting his order completely wrong but you were glad when he told you that shit like this happens, especially when you have ‘THE Bakugo Katsuki’ in front go you, he added. Of course you told Mina about this really cute boy you met the first night the two of you caught up, dressed in pajamas and wearing face masks. You had send him a picture of you on snapchat and he told you he preferred your face covered in his cum rather than this mask. He send you a snap back, showing off his body after a late work out. Before you could reply Mina came back into the room, panic in her voice. “Y/N I am so, so sorry, but I had the boys over today and when I went to pick you up they basically emptied out my fridge... They left me some money on the counter, but I didn’t realize it. Would you be super mad about going grocery shopping with me?” she asked, taking off the mask. You laughed, telling her it’s fine and you would love to see the city a bit more. You got dressed rather casually, making your way to the store around the corner. It was cute and simple and not a lot going on, as it was already late at night, the moon shining in it’s full glory.

“Do you think you’ll meet him again?” Mina asked you, grabbing some veggies to put them in the basket. “I don’t know. I would love to, but he’s about to be promoted in his job so he seems really busy and the weekend was nice, yes, but it was just a weekend you know?” you told her, walking down the aisles. “It doesn’t matter if it was just a weekend. Your feelings are real and if you keep on texting you might find out if the two of you would fit together,” she told you, checking her grocery list. “I’m gonna go grab some things to drink, how about you go to the snacks and grab some for us?” “Sure thing!” you told her, looking at the labels on top off each aisle. You were lost in your thoughts as you stood in front of the many gummy bears in front you, not being able to decide what you want. After filling your basket with a few bags you made your way back to Mina, your eyes on your phone as you received a new message from Bakugo. Before you could reply you bumped into a rather hard chest. “Oh I’m sorry!” you apologized while the person told you to watch where you going at the same time. Your head snapped up in shock as Bakugo suddenly stood in front of you, his expression matching yours. “What are you doing here?” he asked, completely baffled that the girl that won’t leave his head was now right in front of him. “I just moved here, I’m grocery shopping with a friend right now,” you told him, suddenly ashamed that you haven’t told him earlier. “Thanks for letting me know that you fucking move basically across the globe,” he told you and you could hear a tiny bit of pain laced in his voice. “I’m so sorry, I know... I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to anything,” you explained to him. “Obliga-” before he could finish his sentence you could hear a woman calling out Bakugo’s name. She caught up to him quickly, grabbing his hand which he pulled away from, feeling visibly uncomfortable. “Hey Babe! I’ve been looking for you all over the place,” she told him, smiling at you. His eyes were glued to yours, as yours were to his. He noticed the breath hitching in your throat as she called him babe, the way your eyes widened only for a split second. “Everything okay?” his girlfriend you assumed asked you. “Yeah, sorry, I just moved here and was looking for the drinks,” you told her, turning back to Bakugo. “But I just saw my friend, so thanks for everything, but I won’t be needing you anymore,”

©Kirishoshego//do not repost on any plattform

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waywardnerd67 · 3 years

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Star Crossed: Shining Star

Summary: Between filming and conventions, Jensen Ackles hardly has a moment to himself. During a panel one weekend he learns that his favorite band’s lead singer is a fan of his. Encouraged by his best friend, Jensen steps out of his comfort zone and reaches out to her on social media. That one decision throws his entire world into a whirlwind adventure. Pairing: No Pairing Rating: E - Everyone Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 1595 A/N: None

Check out: Star Crossed Masterlist

Jensen Ackles walked into his apartment kicking off his shoes by the door. Thankful to be done filming for the week and looking forward to not having to travel too far for the convention this weekend. He loved meeting fans and performing on Saturday nights. There were some weeks where he wished he could relax in his apartment and not have to worry about traveling.

Deciding a night of Netflix and pizza was in order, Jensen took a quick shower then put on some sweats with a t-shirt. He had settled in with his pizza with The Witcher series pulled up to watch when his phone started buzzing.

“No Jared, I don’t want to come out.”

Laughter came ringing through the speaker, “Jackles, it’s only a few crew and myself chilling at our normal spot. Come out for a little while.”

“What part of no don’t you understand? The N or the O?” Jensen rubbed his forehead hearing everyone behind Jared chanting his name, “Buddy, I’m showered and in for the evening. I’ll make it up to y’all tomorrow night.”

“Fine old man, see you tomorrow.”

He groaned, ending the call and no longer interested in the show on Netflix. Turning off the tv, he walked over to his record player turning on the band he had been listening to on repeat. He discovered Wayward Stars a few years ago when a fan gifted him their cd. They were a hard rock, alternative metal band with lyrics that spoke to the soul. Also, the lead singer was drop dead gorgeous.

There had been late night shoots he would turn on one of their albums listening to (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s voice letting it seep into the far reaches of his mind. As he sat in his apartment alone, he allowed his mind to wander of singing with her on stage one day. Making a mental note to talk with Creation and Rob Benedict about getting her to come to Vegas for SNS. For now, he let the music flow over him well into the night.

The next day, Jensen slept in until he heard Clif knocking on his door. Twenty minutes later, he was walking down to the lobby where Jared was sitting with his eyes closed.

“Hey Jared!” He yelled.

Jared jumped falling off the chair he was on. Jensen and Clif started laughing as he mumbled curses under his breath getting off the floor.

“Not funny and I will get you back.” Jared’s eyes narrowed on him.

“I’m sure you will, big guy. Now, can we get on with our day?”

They had a few interviews at the studio and some meetings before they had to get ready for the concert that night. Since the convention was in Vancouver and there was no traveling, Jensen had agreed to sing that night. He was excited to perform new songs and to be in front of the fans. As they pulled into the studio parking lot, he sighed knowing it was going to be a long day ahead of him.

It was near six o’clock when Jensen arrived back at his apartment to get ready for the night. Once again, he turned on his favorite Wayward Stars song, A Light in the Dark. It was a slower song with beautiful lyrics and then a killer riff in the end. He was in his room, singing when he heard his door open. Only two people had a key to his place and he only needed one guest to know who was walking in.

“Really? Wayward Stars again?” Jared flopped down on his couch.

“I can’t help it that you have horrible taste in music.” He chuckled.

“I like the band… just not 24/7 like you.”

He rolled his eyes, shutting off his record player, “Don’t judge me. Now come on and let’s go hang out with the fam.”

Saturday Night Special was exactly that, special. Especially when they were in Vancouver. The cast and crew seemed to cut loose a little more backstage. He was catching up with Matt Cohen when they called him to get ready to go on stage. Jared and Misha were standing by the stage to watch as Rob called him up on stage.

There was nothing more exhilarating than being hit with a roar of an audience. An electric current steady ran down his body over the next fifteen minutes as he performed. When he walked off stage, as promised, he celebrated with Jared, Misha and others until the early hours of morning.

Their early morning panel was rough as the coffee worked through knocking out the whiskey from his system. The last question of their morning panel came from a young lady wearing a Wayward Stars shirt.

“Love your shirt.” Jensen smiled.

“We get it Ackles, you’re their biggest fan.” Jared jokes.

The fan laughed, “Actually my question is about them. SPN family loves this band since they are fans of the show. Wondering if you ever had a chance to meet them or if they could be invited to a SNS show?”

“Go on fanboy…”

Jensen rolled his eyes, “I would love to meet them one day and have them come perform during Saturday Night Special. I’m forever thankful to the fan who gave me their cd a couple of years ago. Many, many a night their music has kept me sane during shooting. So yeah, definitely would love to meet them.”

“I would love for Jensen to meet them so I can film it and post it on social media for everyone to see him fanboy all over (Y/N).”

The crowd ohhh as Jensen glared at Jared, “Alright, alright… I think we have to get going now. We will see y’all later.”

Waving as they walked off the stage. As soon as they were on the stairs, Jensen punched his friend in the shoulder.

“Ow!”

“You deserve that.” Jensen could hear Jared laughing all the way to the green room.

The rest of the convention went without a hitch. Monday morning brought a whole new week of filming. Jensen was in his trailer when his phone buzzed seeing a text from Jared.

He pulled up his app, seeing a few friends tagging him in a post from a girl named Addy. Clicking on the YouTube link surprised to see (Y/N) watching him sing from SNS.

“I can’t help it. He’s gorgeous and talented and the perfect man.” She threw her arm over her eyes dramatically pretending to faint.

Text flashed on the screen, “#1 Jensen Ackles Fangirl”

He sat there stunned for a moment watching the video again. He could not wrap his mind around that she was a big fan of his. He knew the band liked the show, but to think he was perfect? His heart thumped against his chest as his shaking hands typed a message back to Jared.

Jensen took a few deep breaths before typing a Tweet then deleting it. He typed another one and deleted it. The third time he hit post and immediately regretted it, sounding like an idiot. Within minutes he received a notification from (Y/N) on Twitter.

Before he could reply, Jared was calling him, “Are you freaking out?”

“N-No… maybe, yes.” He stammered.

Jared’s laughter filled his ear, “Oh my god I wish I could see your face right now. This is your chance to make all your dreams come true.”

“I’m hanging up now, Jerk.”

“See you in an hour, Bitch.” Jared was still laughing as Jensen ended the call.

He watched the video a few more times and sent another Tweet out to (Y/N) after following her page. He went on all his social media making sure he was following her before realization hit that it seemed stalkerish.

“Jay, calm your roll.” He muttered to himself.

Putting his phone down, he tried to go over his lines for the next scene they were shooting. When he could not concentrate then he buckled, putting in his earbuds and turning on Wayward Stars. His hands were still trembling as he tried to control his fan moment.

Over the next several weeks, Jensen and (Y/N) were chatting all over social media. He posted a picture on Instagram tagging her in holding up her vinyl record.

Finally, he gathered the courage to ask for her number in a DM to chat with her more in private. Since their fans were going nuts over their new friendship. Now they would text each other everyday like they had known each other forever. She would tell him about her shows and cities she was in. He would chat about filming without spoiling anything for her. The only thing he wished could happen was their schedules to sync up so they could meet.

That thought ran through his mind everyday especially when he was at conventions like the upcoming weekend in his hometown. Thursday night, he was on a plane heading to Dallas when a notification popped up on his phone from (Y/N) posting on Twitter.

“Not next to me.” He mumbled snapping a picture of himself before replying to her Tweet.

He knew where she was off too after they had talked earlier in the day. They were still a thousand miles apart but closer than they had ever been since their friendship had begun. Settling back into his seat, he enjoyed listening to Wayward Stars newest song released that week.

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

For updates please follow #waywardnerd67fics

Taglist: @waywardbaby @ladywinchester1967 @akshi8278 @dean-winchesters-bacon @carryonmywaywardcaptain @destiel745 @carribear31 @whimsicalrobots @adoptdontshoppets @mrswhozeewhatsis @bella-ca @drakelover78 @imascio08 @mannls @time-travel-bouqet @myinconnelly1 @maddiepants @tumbler-tidbits @sandlee44 @destielhoneybee @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @thefaithfulwriter @stoneyggirl @emoryhemsworth @atc74 @cosicas-cuquis @mimaria420

#waywardnerd67fics #star crossed series #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles #reader insert #rpf #fluff

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midasinc · 3 years

Text

modern era eponine hcs:

-eponine uses she/they pronouns

-95% of her clothes are thrifted. her family has had to thrift clothes since forever and it really bothers her when thrifting becomes a trend. they try not to gatekeep, but one of their biggest pet peeves are people who go in and take all of the cute pieces of clothing to resell and leave nothing for the people who actually depend on thrifted clothing. a lot of les amis know that her situation with clothing is difficult, so she ends up getting a lot of hand-me-downs from them and it makes her feel happy. she's got a couple pairs of enjolras's old sweatpants, some of combeferre's old jeans (and oh my god eponine has to roll them up so far) and a bunch of jehan's sweaters

-eponine wants to be an author. they've been creative writing since they were ten and there have been several evolutions of their writing. middle school was a lot of happy endings, high school was angst and only angst, and throughout uni and her adult life, she's begun finding a style that suits her really well and her writing is very dynamic and crafted with love and anyone who reads her work can tell

-they're also really good at screenwriting. grantaire has commissioned them before to help on a project he was doing and eponine was very professional, quick, and had a flawless draft. he was incredibly impressed when he got it back

-she's trying really really hard to be a good big sister to gavroche. eponine regrets having a short temper with him when she was in high school and she's been trying to make it up with letting him stay at their apartment, buying him nice things when she can afford it, and trying to be more responsible in the future. they aren't sure how to prove that they're sorry and saying it out loud seems weird, but she's genuinely trying

-eponine is a dog walker for the dogs in their building. every day, they round up the dogs in the building and take them out on a route to a dog park. it's pretty okay money and they really enjoy the company of dogs. when gavroche is over for the weekend, eponine will take him along for the walk because he loves dogs just as much

-after rebuilding their relationship with cosette, eponine spends a lot of their time with her. cosette is a really good listener and advice giver when things are rough for eponine and eponine goes to all of her ballet company's performances and gets her flowers after every show. they get brunch every wednesday at what they've dubbed as their cafe and they just talk smack about the people they know for an hour and a half over coffee and crepes

-they have a really bad cat allergy. being around cats makes eponine so sneezy and her eyes will water until she leaves the premise. she loves all of her friends who own cats, but they will absolutely not step foot into any of those people's apartments because eponine will just be in misery the entire time

-EPONINE AND JEHAN BFF SUPREMACY. they have sleepovers all the times and eponine is one of the only people who isn't afraid of jehan's pet rats. jehan will do eponine's nails and neaten them up and they can talk about this and that and it's very therapeutic for them both. they also compete in a local baking competition every year (and they never place- BUT THIS YEAR IS A NEW YEAR!)

-they don't mind presenting femininely, but they prefer to use men's colognes and deodorants and body sprays and they always smell really nice

-eponine also wears a ton of jewlery. they don't believe in jewlery segregation. they'll wear gold necklaces and silver earrings and beaded bracelets and rubber bracelets and silver rings and whenever someone points it out, they just say "it's camp"

-eponine and courfeyrac stoner solidarity. she never keeps weed in the house though because she doesn't want azelma and gavroche to think she's "on the wrong path", so eponine only goes over to smoke with courfeyrac. it's normally just a nice way to unwind and watch the clouds in the sky move. they're gonna buy a dab pen off of courfeyrac though because sometimes they'd prefer to get high alone and the smell and everything is a lot less obvious with a pen

-all of eponine's sneakers are scuffed as hell. she wears a lot of skate shoes but she has never stepped foot on a skateboard before. eponine has 100% lied about being able to ollie when someone is like "do you even skate" but she doesn't even know what an ollie is- she just knows the word from courfeyrac

-eponine has a couch that she got bahorel to help pick up off the side of the road. it's an old 60s couch that's bright orange. at the time of finding it, the couch was gross and dirty, but they spent hours cleaning it and reupholstering it and now they have the most beautiful orange couch anyone has ever seen. it's the staple of eponine's apartment. if it ever had to get thrown out, everyone would be upset- that couch is a part of the friend group at this point

#les mis #les miserables #les mis headcanons #modern era #modern au #eponine #my love #anyway #OPs Les Mis HCs #les amis

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sturchling · 4 years

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The Truth Will Set You Free

I had an idea for a Maribat story and I just had to write it.

The class wins a trip to Gotham and Marinette meets Damian Wayne. After Damian hears what Lila has been doing, he uses a truth serum he learned about while with the League of Assassins. Will Lila’s lies be revealed?

(I have no idea if truth serum exists in the DC Universe, so I just went with it. Couldn’t find any information online, other than Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth.)

Marinette had no idea that the class trip to Gotham would improve her life so much. It all started with an essay contest being held by Wayne Enterprises. The best essay submitted by a class would win that class an all expense paid trip to Gotham for a week. Marinette was excited when she found the contest information one Friday afternoon. It had been a rough week for the you designer. Lila had been making steady progress towards her threat. Several of Marinette’s friends had started to believe Lila when Lila told them that Marinette had been bullying her. It was hard for Marinette to watch her friends start to believe the worst of her. But there was a bright side. Not all of her friends were tricked. Nino, Kim, and Nathaniel had figured out that Lila was lying about Marinette. After that, it wasn’t hard to convince them that she had lied about everything.

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

Adrien, of course, knew what was happening and that Lila was lying about Marinette. He wished he could defend her more directly, but his father had forbidden it. His father had told him that he had to maintain good relations with Lila for the face of the brand, and that if Adrien did the opposite then he would pull Adrien out of school. While Adrien couldn’t directly say anything against Lila, Adrien helped Marinette where he could. He would warn her if Lila was saying something especially horrible about her, and would hang out with her when he could. Adrien would also discreetly question some of Lila’s stories about Marinette, which had helped keep the class from completely turning on her. At least it had helped for a while, but it wasn’t working as well now and the class was quickly becoming very hostile to Marinette.

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

Chloe was surprisingly less hostile to Marinette during these times. She was still not particularly kind, but she was no longer completely cruel. Chloe had offered an apology to Marinette after Sabrina left her for Lila. Chloe had begun to suspect Lila as being a liar after the fake Ladybug summoning ritual. Chloe wasn’t stupid. Chloe knew the only reason Ladybug had shown up that day was because of Miraculer. A little after that incident, Chloe cornered Lila in the bathroom and told her that she knew she was a liar. Instead of being scared like Chloe thought she would be, Lila just smirked and said, “Fine. You don’t want to play on my team? Then you are my enemy. Just like Marinette. It will be even easier with you. You don’t even have many friends. Just little Sabrina. Soon, you won’t even have her.” With that, Lila left the room. Chloe didn’t think anything of the threat, she believed in Sabrina. But then Sabrina became distant. Apparently, Lila had been telling Sabrina that Chloe was being a bad friend and that she would be a much better friend to her. Sabrina had believed her and left Chloe behind. Chloe did end up alone, just like Lila said. But, the one thing constant was that Ladybug stilled called her to be Queen Bee from time to time. Then one day, Ladybug spoke with her about needing to improve herself. Ladybug had told her, “You are a hero in your super hero life, but you need to act more like a hero in your civilian life too.” After a while of thinking about what Ladybug had said, she decided to apologize to Marinette. Marinette did end up accepting the apology, and while they weren’t best friends, Marinette and Chloe were more friendly with each other.

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

The Friday Marinette had heard about the contest, she had just gotten back from hanging out with Chloe, Nino, and Adrien. They had gone to eat a small café and vent a bit about the Lila problem. Adrien had been fed up, as he had spent all day with her at a photoshoot instead of going to school. Of course, Lila being absent from school that day did not stop her from ruining the others day. She had apparently texted Alya about how cruel Marinette had been to her by text the night before. So, the rest of the class was horrible to Marinette, and by extension her friends, all day. After an hour of complaining, the friends went their separate ways. When Marinette got home, she was browsing the internet and saw the ad that announced the essay contest. She was very excited when she saw it and immediately messaged her friends. They all got excited as well and thought it would be a fun end of the year trip. Marinette decided to spend all weekend working on the essay for the contest. After several long days of writing, Marinette submitted the essay to the contest. All that was left was to wait for news.

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

It had been a week since Marinette submitted the essay. Marinette had told Mrs. Bustier about the contest after she had submitted the essay, but asked that she didn’t tell the class in case they didn’t get the prize. Marinette got home after school the day after the contest closed and saw that she had a new email. When she opened the email, she saw that they had won the class trip. Marinette was ecstatic! She texted her friends and forwarded the email to Mrs. Bustier so she would have all the details. She asked Mrs. Bustier not to tell the class who had won the contest, so that they wouldn’t just immediately reject the idea. Then Marinette went downstairs to tell her parents the good news. After dinner, Marinette noticed she had received a second email. This time it was from Mrs. Bustier and was sent to the whole class. It said:

Good evening students,

This email is to let you know that our class was selected as the recipient of an all expense paid trip to Gotham for a week at the end of the school year. We won this trip due to the hard work of one of our students. We will leave the Monday after the school year concludes. Attached you will find the details sent by the contest organizers.

Marinette was thankful that Mrs. Bustier had listened to her request for once, and hadn’t named her as the person who got them the trip. At least, she was thankful until the following morning. When Marinette and her friends walked into class the next day, they heard Lila loudly proclaiming, “I wanted to tell you all that I was the student who one the contest for the trip. I had to make a video all about our accomplishments. It was hard work, but it is so worth it to be able to give you all such a wonderful trip.” Marinette’s friends were furious that Lila was taking the credit from Marinette again. So, Adrien tried to discretely question Lila, hoping to make the others realize that she was lying. Adrien asked, “I saw the ad for the contest, I thought it was an essay contest Lila?” Lila glared at him for a minute before plastering a fake smile and replying, “Well yes, it is an essay contest. But the Waynes made an exception for me because of my wrist problems.” Chloe rolled her eyes and said, “How would the Waynes know about your wrist?” Lila quickly responded, “I pretty much grew up with them. Bruce thinks of me like a daughter. I’m especially close with his youngest son Damian. Damian and me even started an on-again-off-again relationship a few years ago. He is so sweet. As soon as I messaged him about the contest, he made sure I would be allowed to do a video essay.” The class just ate up this story while Marinette and her friends were shocked they could believe such a silly lie. When Chloe went to make a big scene about everything, Marinette stopped her and just went to the back row and sat down. Marinette didn’t care if she got the credit, she just wanted the class to have a good trip.

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

The school year had finished up a few days ago. The class had been in Gotham for 3 of the 7 days they were supposed to be there. Today, the class was going to tour Wayne Enterprises. When the class got excited that they might meet Bruce Wayne, Lila made sure to cover herself and told the class that if they did meet Bruce Wayne, that he would pretend not to know Lila so that she wouldn’t get any unwanted attention from the Gotham Rogues. The class completely bought it and didn’t question Lila at all about it. While on the tour, the class stopped in a cafeteria for lunch. Marinette stepped out of the cafeteria to sketch a new design in her sketchbook. It was a new design for a costume for Robin. Suddenly a shadow fell across the page. When Marinette looked up, there stood a boy with black hair and green eyes that looked like he was about her age. He stared at her with a stoic expression and asked, “What are you doing?” Marinette replied, “Oh, I’m here on a tour with my class. I just needed a break from the chatter. I came out here to work on a design for Robin.” That seemed to surprise the boy and he asked, “What do you mean a design for Robin? You mean the vigilante here in town?” Marinette glanced up at him again before continuing to sketch while answering, “Yes for that Robin. His costume is atrocious. He looks like a traffic light! At least the rest of the Batfam have ok costumes. But Robin’s costume is the worst!” Marinette paused and looked up, “Sorry, when it comes to fashion, I get a little fired up.” The boy in front of her looked amused and said, “It is alright. It was interesting to hear your opinion. Are you with the visiting French class? What is your name?” Marinette grinned at the boy and said, “Yes, I’m with that class. My name is Marinette.” The boy slightly smiled, and said, “What a beautiful name. My name is Damian. Forgive me if this is too bold, but would you like to have dinner with me this evening?” Marinette blushed, no one had told her that her name was beautiful before. She shyly responded, “I would love to have dinner with you. Where do you want to meet?” Damian told her, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pick you up from your hotel at 6:00, if that time works for you?” Marinette agreed and then her friends left the cafeteria. They saw Marinette with a strange boy and they walked over to check on her. When the boy turned around, Chloe and Adrien both recognized him as Damian Wayne!

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

Once Damian had walked away, Chloe and Adrien rushed up to Marinette and Chloe said, “Marinette! What were you doing talking to Damian Wayne?!” Marinette looked shocked. She hadn’t realized that the Damian she had been talking to, had been Damian Wayne. Marinette told her friends everything that had happened, including Damian asking her out to dinner that night. Marinette started freaking out as she realized she had a date with THE Damian Wayne. Chloe and Adrien got her to calm down and realize that he is the same boy she had been talking to with no problem. After she had calmed down, Kim said “I can’t wait to tell the class. They will flip out. Lila will be so angry that you are actually dating the Damian she has been lying about.” Marinette stopped Kim saying, “Stop. Don’t tell them. Lila will just come up with a way to turn it around on me and it will make everything worse.” Kim didn’t like it, but he agreed to keep quiet. With that, the friends talked excitedly about the date throughout the rest of the tour. After the tour, the class returned to the hotel and Chloe helped Marinette get ready for her date. After she was ready, Marinette went down to the lobby to wait for Damian with Chloe and Adrien.

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Right at 6:00, Damian walked into the hotel to pick up Marinette. She was sitting on a bench with another girl with blonde hair. Damian approached Marinette and said, “Ready to go Angel?” Marinette blushed immediately after hearing the pet name. “Angel?” she asked. Damian smiled and said, “Yes, Angel. Is it ok if I call you that?” Marinette was so tongue tied that Chloe had to step in and say, “Yes, it is ok with her. She is just speechless.” Damian chuckled and said, “Ok then. Let’s go Angel.” Marinette stood and Damian took her arm to lead her out of the hotel. Before they could get far though, they heard a sickly-sweet voice from behind them ask, “Marinette? Where are you going? Who is this?” Damian felt Marinette tense up and was immediately on guard. They turned and Damian saw a girl with hair that looked like sausages standing behind them with an obviously fake smile on her face. Behind her stood, what Damian guessed, was the rest of Marinette’s class. Damian responded to the girl saying, “I’m Damian. I’m taking Marinette out to dinner.” The class seemed shocked but the sausage girl quickly recovered and said, “Wow Marinette. You sure work quick. Only been here a few days and you already have a date with some stranger. Didn’t realize you were so desperate.” The class started to grumble and taunt Marinette while the blonde girl from earlier just glared at the class. Damian went to defend Marinette and yell at the class, but Marinette placed a hand on his arm and subtly shook her head. Damian didn’t like it, but if Marinette didn’t want him to say anything then he wouldn’t. The two just ignored the class, turned, and left for their date.

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The new couple arrived at the small restaurant for dinner and sat down. After ordering, they started talking. Damian ended up asking, “Angel, was that your class as we were leaving? Why would that one girl have said those things to you?” At first Marinette seemed hesitant to say anything, she didn’t want to say anything against her old friends. And if she said anything about Lila, Lila might find out and make her life worse. But Damian wouldn’t leave it be. He knew something was wrong. Finally, Marinette gave in and told Damian everything that had been happening since Lila first appeared. How she had been lying about everything. Even how she lied about winning this trip for the class and knowing the Waynes. Damian was furious. How dare that liar be so mean to his sweet angel. That was all it took for Damian to start planning the liar’s downfall.

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

Damian enacted his plan as soon as he got home. He informed his father what the liar had been saying and his father decided to send the girl a lawsuit for lying about the family. But Damian knew that Lila would either hide it or somehow spin the story in her favor. Damian knew that he had to end the liar’s influence over the class if he wanted to make things better for his angel. But the only way he could think to do that would be to get the liar to admit everything. Damian knew, however, that it was extremely unlikely that she would admit to anything. Then Damian remembered a tool from his time with the League of Assassins. The league had used a truth serum for when they needed information. They had also used it to test new recruits. It was very effective and would probably work on Lila. Damian set to work making a batch of the truth serum. He wanted to make sure to have it ready in time for the party his dad was throwing at the end of the trip for the class. He had his plan, now he just had to wait for the party.

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

The next few days passed quickly. Damian and Marinette spent all their free time together. They had quickly become a cute couple. Marinette had even gone over to the manor and met Damian’s family. Every member of the Wayne family now agrees that Marinette is sunshine incarnate. Marinette loved the family. Damian’s brothers were like the brothers Marinette never had. Bruce was also very nice to Marinette. Marinette had yet to figure out their nightly activities, but they knew that if she dated Damian for much longer, she would figure it out. The last days of the trip went quickly and before the class knew it, it was there last night in Gotham. Bruce Wayne had invited them to a party that night and the whole class was excited. Little did they know that they would finally have the truth revealed to them by the end of the night.

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

Once the party began, Marinette hardly left Damian’s side. They were dancing and talking for hours. Marinette eventually stepped away to the restroom and that is when Damian made his move. He grabbed a glass of punch and poured in the truth serum that he had been working on. He looked around and saw Lila surrounded by the rest of her class, probably telling another tall tale. He walked over to Lila and said, “Would you like some punch?” Lila tried to look shy and accepted the glass saying, “Thank you. You’re Damian, right? The guy Marinette has been clinging to for days?” Damian got angry hearing how this girl talked about his angel, but he held it back and replied, “Yes, that is me. You’re Lila, right?” Lila took a big drink of the punch and replied, “Yes, how did you know my name? I don’t think I ever introduced myself. Did Marinette tell you about me? She must have lied and said such horrible things about me. She has been such a bully; you probably shouldn’t hang out with someone like that.” By now, Lila had finished the punch and the rest of the class was watching the interaction with fascination. Perfect, Damian thought. Now he just needed to keep her talking. The effects of the truth serum are pretty immediate, so the plan can continue. Damian pretended to be shocked by what Lila had said and asked, “Really? She doesn’t seem like a bully. She has been bullying you?” Before Lila knew what she was saying, Lila said, “Actually, I lied. Marinette never bullied me.” The class gasped and Lila looked shocked at what she had just said. Lila didn’t know why she had just admitted that she had been lying about that. Just as she started to suspect Damian had done something, Adrien chimed in with a smirk on his face, asking “So you have been lying about Marinette this whole time?” Lila was forced to answer the question, “Yes I lied. She never bullied me.” Damian had told Adrien and Chloe about the plan he had for the party so they were ready to ask questions and destroy the liar. As the trio kept asking questions, Lila was forced to reveal every lie she had told the class. With each admission the class grew more and more shocked. They couldn’t believe that their friend had been lying to them all this time. Marinette returned to the party to find, her friends and Damian talking to Lila and the rest of her class. She walked over and asked, “What is going on?” Damian responded, “Oh, Lila was just enlightening the class about some of her stories.” Alya and some of the other members of the class tried to apologize to Marinette, but they were interrupted by Bruce beginning to speak. Bruce said, “Could I have everyone’s attention please? I just wanted to say thank you all for coming. And I wanted to introduce the young lady that wrote the winning essay. Marinette wrote a stunning essay about her class and all of the accomplishments of her classmates. She could say nothing but the nicest things about her class. I simply had to meet such an amazing class of young people. So, could we get a round of applause for Marinette?” The rest of the guests gave a round of applause for Marinette, while Mrs. Bustier’s class just stood in stunned silence. They didn’t understand, Lila had said that she won the contest for them. She had obviously lied. And Marinette had only nice things to say? But they had been so mean to her lately. The class felt horrible about everything. Bruce continued, “I have had the pleasure of speaking with Marinette a few times since her class arrived and she is an amazing young lady. She is kind and very humble-” Someone from the back of the room, who Marinette recognized as Jason, called out, “She is also Damian’s girlfriend!” The guests started whispering excitedly and Bruce responded, “Yes, she is dating my youngest. But I would still think highly of her, even if she wasn’t.” The room erupted into excited chatter as the guests discussed how this girl had managed to get a date with the youngest Wayne. The class was shocked. They had no idea that they Damian Marinette had been seeing was THE Damian Wayne. Lila was furious. She had been forced to reveal all of her lies somehow, and now she finds out that Ms. Goody-two-shoes Marinette had somehow actually gotten a date with Damian Wayne. This wasn’t how this trip was supposed to go. She was supposed to dazzle the class with stories of how she knew the Wayne family. Then she was supposed to meet Damian at this party and actually start dating him. Now Lila had no boyfriend, and had lost her minions. They would never believe her again. The class was horrified as they realized what they had done to their good friend, all because one girl claimed that Marinette was bullying her. They didn’t even ask for proof; they just took Lila at her word. They wanted to apologize, but they knew it would never completely make up for what they did. As they watched Marinette walk away with her friends and Damian, they knew they had lost an amazing friend. How could they have believed that liar?

700 notes · View notes

traeumenvonbuechern · 3 years

Text

June Wrap-Up

1. Can't Take That Away (Steven Salvatore)

Carey Parker dreams of being a diva, and bringing the house down with song. But despite their talent, emotional scars from an incident with a homophobic classmate and their grandmother's spiraling dementia make it harder and harder for Carey to find their voice. Then Carey meets Cris, a singer/guitarist who makes Carey feel seen for the first time in their life. With the rush of a promising new romantic relationship, Carey finds the confidence to audition for the role of Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West, in the school musical, setting off a chain reaction of prejudice by Carey's tormentor and others in the school. It's up to Carey, Cris, and their friends to defend their rights--and they refuse to be silenced.

2. Sanditon (Jane Austen)

Written in the last months of Austen's life, Sanditon features a glorious cast of hypochondriacs and speculators in a newly established seaside resort, and shows the author contemplating a changing society with scepticism and amusement. It tells the story of Charlotte Heywood, who is transported by a chance accident from her rural hometown to Sanditon, where she is exposed to the intrigues and dalliances of a small town determined to reinvent itself - and encounters the intriguingly handsome Sidney Parker.

3. The Witch King (H.E. Edgmon)

Wyatt would give anything to forget where he came from—but a kingdom demands its king. In Asalin, fae rule and witches like Wyatt Croft…don’t. Wyatt’s betrothal to his best friend, fae prince Emyr North, was supposed to change that. But when Wyatt lost control of his magic one devastating night, he fled to the human world. Now a coldly distant Emyr has hunted him down. Despite transgender Wyatt’s newfound identity and troubling past, Emyr has no intention of dissolving their engagement. In fact, he claims they must marry now or risk losing the throne. Jaded, Wyatt strikes a deal with the enemy, hoping to escape Asalin forever. But as he gets to know Emyr, Wyatt realizes the boy he once loved may still exist. And as the witches face worsening conditions, he must decide once and for all what’s more important—his people or his freedom.

4. One Last Stop (Casey McQuiston)

For cynical twenty-three-year-old August, moving to New York City is supposed to prove her right: that things like magic and cinematic love stories don’t exist, and the only smart way to go through life is alone. She can’t imagine how waiting tables at a 24-hour pancake diner and moving in with too many weird roommates could possibly change that. And there’s certainly no chance of her subway commute being anything more than a daily trudge through boredom and electrical failures. But then, there’s this gorgeous girl on the train. Jane. Dazzling, charming, mysterious, impossible Jane. Jane with her rough edges and swoopy hair and soft smile, showing up in a leather jacket to save August’s day when she needed it most. August’s subway crush becomes the best part of her day, but pretty soon, she discovers there’s one big problem: Jane doesn’t just look like an old school punk rocker. She’s literally displaced in time from the 1970s, and August is going to have to use everything she tried to leave in her own past to help her. Maybe it’s time to start believing in some things, after all.

5. Between Perfect and Real (Ray Stoeve)

Dean Foster knows he’s a trans guy. He’s watched enough YouTube videos and done enough questioning to be sure. But everyone at his high school thinks he’s a lesbian—including his girlfriend Zoe, and his theater director, who just cast him as a “nontraditional” Romeo. He wonders if maybe it would be easier to wait until college to come out. But as he plays Romeo every day in rehearsals, Dean realizes he wants everyone to see him as he really is now––not just on the stage, but everywhere in his life. Dean knows what he needs to do. Can playing a role help Dean be his true self?

6. The Cruel Prince (Holly Black)

Jude was seven when her parents were murdered and she and her two sisters were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong there, despite her mortality. But many of the fey despise humans. Especially Prince Cardan, the youngest and wickedest son of the High King. To win a place at the Court, she must defy him–and face the consequences. As Jude becomes more deeply embroiled in palace intrigues and deceptions, she discovers her own capacity for trickery and bloodshed. But as betrayal threatens to drown the Courts of Faerie in violence, Jude will need to risk her life in a dangerous alliance to save her sisters, and Faerie itself.

7. Boy Queen (George Lester)

Robin Cooper’s life is falling apart. While his friends prepare to head off to university, Robin is looking at a pile of rejection letters from drama schools up and down the country, and facing a future without the people he loves the most. Everything seems like it’s ending, and Robin is scrabbling to find his feet. Unsure about what to do next and whether he has the talent to follow his dreams, he and his best friends go and drown their sorrows at a local drag show, where Robin realises there might be a different, more sequinned path for him . . . With a mother who won't stop talking, a boyfriend who won't acknowledge him and a best friend who is dying to cover him in glitter make up, there's only one thing for Robin to do: bring it to the runway.

8. Felix Ever After (Kacen Callender)

Felix Love has never been in love—and, yes, he’s painfully aware of the irony. He desperately wants to know what it’s like and why it seems so easy for everyone but him to find someone. What’s worse is that, even though he is proud of his identity, Felix also secretly fears that he’s one marginalization too many—Black, queer, and transgender—to ever get his own happily-ever-after. When an anonymous student begins sending him transphobic messages—after publicly posting Felix’s deadname alongside images of him before he transitioned—Felix comes up with a plan for revenge. What he didn’t count on: his catfish scenario landing him in a quasi–love triangle.... But as he navigates his complicated feelings, Felix begins a journey of questioning and self-discovery that helps redefine his most important relationship: how he feels about himself.

9. Wuthering Heights (Emily Brontë)

Lockwood, the new tenant of Thrushcross Grange on the bleak Yorkshire moors, is forced to seek shelter one night at Wuthering Heights, the home of his landlord. There he discovers the history of the tempestuous events that took place years before: of the intense passion between the foundling Heathcliff and Catherine Earnshaw, and her betrayal of him. As Heathcliff's bitterness and vengeance is visited upon the next generation, their innocent heirs must struggle to escape the legacy of the past.

10. Ace of Spades (Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé)

Welcome to Niveus Private Academy, where money paves the hallways, and the students are never less than perfect. Until now. Because anonymous texter, Aces, is bringing two students' dark secrets to light. Talented musician Devon buries himself in rehearsals, but he can't escape the spotlight when his private photos go public. Head girl Chiamaka isn't afraid to get what she wants, but soon everyone will know the price she has paid for power. Someone is out to get them both. Someone who holds all the aces. And they're planning much more than a high-school game...

11. The Queer Principles of Kit Webb (Cat Sebastian)

Kit Webb has left his stand-and-deliver days behind him. But dreary days at his coffee shop have begun to make him pine for the heady rush of thievery. When a handsome yet arrogant aristocrat storms into his shop, Kit quickly realizes he may be unable to deny whatever this highborn man desires. In order to save himself and a beloved friend, Percy, Lord Holland must go against every gentlemanly behavior he holds dear to gain what he needs most: a book that once belonged to his mother, a book his father never lets out of his sight and could be Percy’s savior. More comfortable in silk-filled ballrooms than coffee shops frequented by criminals, his attempts to hire the roughly hewn highwayman, formerly known as Gladhand Jack, proves equal parts frustrating and electrifying. Kit refuses to participate in the robbery but agrees to teach Percy how to do the deed. Percy knows he has little choice but to submit and as the lessons in thievery begin, he discovers thievery isn’t the only crime he’s desperate to commit with Kit. But when their careful plan goes dangerously wrong and shocking revelations threaten to tear them apart, can these stolen hearts withstand the impediments in their path?

12. Weekend Girl (Alex Powell)

Ashley Kingston is a genderfluid university student with a major crush on attractive and charming Nolan. He seems just too perfect to be true. What happens when Ash meets Nolan while dressed as both a man, and a woman? And even more confusing, what happens when Nolan seems enamoured of both versions of Ash? A twisty-turny romance filled with fun and shenanigans.

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cha-lyn · 4 years

Text

Milk & Eggs - Thirteen

Farmer!Bucky x Reader

Words: 2434

Summary: Small Town /Farmer Bucky AU // Reader leaves the city to go live with her grandma. She meets an attractive farmer and, no, they don’t hit it off.

Warnings: fluff and some angst. tiny baby farm life.

A/N: It’s been a minute..... 🙃 thanks for sticking around guys.. As always I love the feedback/likes/reblogs 💛 i have the next the next two chapters done so it won’t be another 6 months lol

Master List // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

---

The next morning you wake up naked and alone, much to your disappointment. You shiver and pull the single sheet around you. You inhale his smell as you nuzzle into the pillow. On Bucky’s pillow is a sticky note.

Choring. Be back soon.

You grin, curling up further and deciding to wait for your man in the warm bed instead of venturing out into the cold. Of course, you fall back into a light sleep, the shifting of the bed stirring you awake.

“Good morning beautiful,” Bucky smiled down at you, pieces of his hair falling down around his face.

“Join me,” you yawn, lifting the sheet and waving him in.

Bucky shakes his head. “If I get in there who will eat the huge breakfast I just made?” He kisses your forehead and gets up going to his chest of drawers. He tosses you a blue long sleeve t-shirt and starts back downstairs. “Hurry up, it’s gettin’ cold.”

Bucky had indeed prepared a feast. Bacon, pancakes for him, waffles for you, orange juice, hash browns and scrambled eggs. You sit down across from a grinning Bucky, crossing your bare legs, wearing only his t-shirt and your panties.

“That shirt looks good on you.”

You grab a piece of bacon and grin. “I agree. You might just never see it again.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “Oh, I almost forgot, the livestock fair is next weekend. You still wanna go with me?” You nod, mouth already full of waffle. Bucky grins, stuffing his face, too.

As you rinsed the last glass, Bucky traps you in his arms, “Do you have to go bake now?” He sounded pitiful.

“I have a few minutes before I have to leave… Why what were you wanting to do?” You couldn’t suppress your smirk. Bucky’s rough hands slip under his own soft t-shirt. “Stop teasing,” you whine.

He scoffs, “You’re the one the that’s teasing. Skippin’ around my house in nothin’ but my t-shirt. Not even any pants on,” his lips brushing your ear, making you shiver.

You turn to face him, “Well. What do you want to do about it Buck?”

He snaps your hips towards him, “Just take you back upstairs. Ya know.. Help you change outta this.”

“Yes, that does sound like a two person job. What are you waiting for then?”

Bucky wasted no time dropping his hands to your thighs to pick you up and carry you straight back to his bedroom, giggling and kissing the whole way up.

The next week went by fast. You were busy at the bakery and Bucky was busy training the already hired Sam at the ranch. There had been some logistical issues--Sam accepted the job, but was struggling to find a place to live. You talked Bucky into letting Sam stay at his house while he looked. The pros of that were that Sam is absolutely hilarious and a great cook. The con was that you didn’t get to walk around with no pants on anymore.

Friday rolled around and as you rolled out fondant at the shop, the front bell rang. You peek around the corner, eyes falling on a gorgeous man covered in dirt.

“Hey slick.”

“Hey stranger.”

“Stranger? You saw me this morning.” Bucky leaned on the counter.

You leaned in to meet him, giving him a kiss, smelling the faint smells of dirt, sweat and coffee. “Was that this morning? Feels like days ago.”

“We didn’t get much sleep last night. Which is why,” out of nowhere a coffee cup appears, “I thought I’d stop by and bring you some caffeine.” Your face almost broke from smiling so hard. “And to remind you that we have to leave at 7am tomorrow.”

Your face fell and your eyes narrowed.

“You don't have to go, doll, really,” he reasoned. “It’s just a bunch of stinky animals.”

“Ugh, no I want to, I just want to go later,” you whine as you put a bear claw in a bag for him.

Bucky laughed as he stood to leave. “Sorry, no can do. We will stop for coffee on the way, though, promise. Bring your chorin’ boots when you come tonight, auctions tend to be muddy places.”

“Look at you assuming I’m coming over tonight.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Damn, lack of sleep makes you sassy. Don’t worry, I'll sleep on the couch-- let you get plenty of sleep tonight to make up for the last.” You scoff at him as he wiggles his eyes, hand already in the togo bag. “Thank you! See you tonight,” he leaves with a wink.

Bucky has you up at 6:30 am the next morning. You're dressed and upright, but not really awake. Sam was up, cracking jokes at the ungodly hour and trying to break your scowl as he flipped pancakes and scrambled his eggs. You and Bucky don’t actually leave until 7:08 because of your sluggish ass. (You’d forgotten where you left your boots and then misplaced your rain jacket. Miraculously, Bucky fought the scowl threatening to invade his face because you’re fuckin’ cute when you’ve just woke up.) Despite your moody slowness, Bucky kindly lets you sleep most of the way, waking you up when you're one town away.

“Hey wake up doll,” he reaches over, gently rubbing your shoulder. “C’mon, wake up. We’re close.” As you rub the sleep out of your eyes, Bucky pulls into the drive through of the only Starbucks in a hundred mile area. “You want your usual?”

You nod, “And an extra shot please.”

Bucky chuckles, ordering your drink perfectly, “I’ve never seen someone sleep so soundly on the road.”

You smile, “I trained myself to sleep in almost every car ride. I used to get really car sick as a kid. Road trips sucked, so I just slept through it. Still do.”

Bucky smiles, handing you a hot coffee and immediately sipping his. “So, the game plan for today is to buy three goats--one billy and two does.”

“Mmm and a dog.” Bucky raises his eyebrows as he merges back onto the interstate. “You said you might get one to help the herd or something.”

“Yeah, but now I have Sam to help with that.”

You roll your eyes. “If you get a dog maybe I’ll come over more,” you joke.

Bucky laughed, “You’re over all the time, slick. You come over anymore and you’ll have to move in.”

You choked on your sip, hot coffee burning your nose. Bucky’s eyes cut your way, watching you pick at your fingers.

“Uh… That was a joke…” he says unconvincingly.

You cough out a laugh, just as unconvincing. “Oh good. ‘Cause we barely know each other…”

“What do you mean?”

You blink at him, “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other Buck. Like a lot.”

“What better way to get to know each other than living together? Hypothetically,” Bucky shrugged.

You looked at him incredulously. “Whoa. Bucky. We are nowhere near that step,” you scoff.

“I’m just saying hypothetically, but whatever. We’re almost there. To the auction… not where ever you say we aren’t,” he said, voice clipped as he stared straight ahead.

You sense the shift in the truck. You’re not sure how to recover from this, but you don’t have to just yet.

Minutes later, you see a field full of pickups and trailers and behind them, tents and pens and more farm animals in one place than you’d ever seen. Bucky pulls into the field, driving the aisles until he finds a spot.

He turns off the engine. Sighing as he takes off his ball cap, running his hand through his hair and replacing the hat. “Ready?” He shoots you a half smile.

You nod returning it as best you can, “Let’s go find some goats.” But no fuckin’ dogs, you scold yourself mentally.

Turns out you love livestock auctions. Bucky loves them more, of course. He’s giddy at the sight of the first four-legged creature he sees. The awkwardness is forgotten quickly and soon it’s all smiles and rows of baby goats. One in particular that caught your eye.

“He was so cute though! I think you should get him.”

“Well, yes, but you’ve said that about all of them, slick. We’ve got to look around--get the best deal. This is an investment,” he said, finding your hand and pulling you on. The two of you patrolled the aisles, looking for the best goats the place had to offer. You passed several tents with pens of hunting and herding dogs and though every fiber of you wanted to stop and oogle over them, you refrained. You hoped Bucky didn’t notice.

After a while your stomach growled, “Stay here a minute doll.” Bucky disappeared into the crowd leaving you to pet a brown and white speckled kid, who bleats at you everytime you let up. You coo at him and rub the little nubs where his horns are barely sticking out.

Minutes later, it had begun to mist and Bucky returned with a basket of fries and two hot dogs. You surrender the baby goat back to the pen and find some hand sanitizer.

“Food! You read my mind,” you grab a crunchy fry.

“Actually, I just heard your stomach,” Bucky notes, chuckling and motioning you under a makeshift pavilion, picnic tables lining the inside of it. The two of you sit across from each other sharing the fries and eating in content silence. Bucky watches you as you happily munch on the fries. Your hair’s adorned with dew beads, some dropping unbothered onto your rain jacket.

You catch him staring and grin, fry midway to your mouth.

He grins back. “Do you like it?” he asks, looking out to the acres of animals.

“It’s awesome. I think I’m a goat person now.”

Bucky chuckles and finishes his hot dog. Once you’ve finished yours the two of you do a couple more rounds, Bucky finally choosing the goats he wanted to take home. The goats are paid for and led back to the truck bed where you help Bucky load them into travel crates. They bleat affectionately at you and Bucky.

“They’re so cute,” you sat rubbing one on the forehead. It nuzzles into your hand.

“Yeah, they are, aren’t they?” Bucky closed the crates. “You ready to go?”

“Of course. I mean you’re in charge. I’m just tagging along.”

Bucky nods. “Let’s go then.” You immediately stretch out when you get in the truck and he chuckles. “Gonna take another nap, slick?”

Your eyes roll. “Now I won't, just to prove a point,” you grin over at him. It’s just eye contact at first, and then it’s not. Then it’s Bucky leaning in and you’re meeting him halfway. His hand creeps up to caress your cheek as he kisses you. He pulls you closer, you bite his lip just hard enough to earn a grin so big it breaks the kiss.

“You’re something else, Y/N. Truly.”

“Not me,” you blush.

His eyes searching yours, looking for an answer. “You really think we barely know each other?”

You sigh, shaking your head, “No, I just--It’s just early in this.” You motion between the two of you. “It’s still new.”

Bucky nods slowly, pulling at a string on his jacket, “Doesn’t mean I don’t know you though. Or that you don’t know me. You know things about me nobody else knows…” he absent mindedly scratched at his left arm, pausing as the rain picked up outside, tapping away at the roof of the truck. “I know your Starbucks order, for hot days and for cold days. I know your favorite wine. I know you hate baking those mini eclairs but you love eating them.”

You’re blushing deeply now. “It’s just really soon, Buck. I don’t know if we’re ready for that.”

Bucky sighs, starting the truck, but leaving it in park. “We might not be completely ready, but I mean… we’re on the way right?”

You bite your lip, blinking at his question. “I don’t--I can’t see the future…” You trial off, extremely unsure of what to say.

Bucky somewhat aggressively shifts into reverse and pulls out of the spot. It’s quiet and tense as he pulls out onto the main road. Neither of you speak for the first 30 or so minutes and you can feel the tension building. You dread this kind of confrontation.

“If you can’t see a future with me, why do you want to get a dog with me? What are we even doing?”

You scoff, which irritates Bucky, “Maybe the dog thing was an ill-timed joke… I never said I don’t see a future with you, I just said I can’t see it. Like right now. I like you a lot, but this also feels like it’s gone so fast and I--”

“I didn’t think you had a problem with how fast it’s going?” Bucky counters.

“I never said I did, Buck.” You rub your temples. You recognize the scenery around you, meaning you’re getting close to not being trapped in his truck. “I just like where we are right now. I don’t wanna overthink what we have.”

Bucky is silent for a long while, until he turns into his driveway. “Can you see it changing one day?”

“Bucky…. Why the sudden need for future plans?”

Bucky puts the truck in park as his fingers beat on the steering wheel. “I think about that kinda stuff I guess. Wanna know what we are doing in this… relationship.”

“I thought we did.”

“We do… I just-”

“It’s fine. I need to get home.I haven’t seen Grams all weekend and we gotta get ready for the week.” You hop out of his truck, digging in your purse for your keys.

He rounds the truck as you find them. “Are you mad at me?”

You look up at him, blue eyes wide with concern. “No.. no. It’s just a lot to think about.” You reach up to fidget with the collar of his shirt, just an excuse to touch him really. It seems to diffuse some of the tension between you.

Bucky looks down at you, “Okay...”

A small smile breaks. “Well, why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow? Grams would like to see you.”

Even though it’s not quite what he wanted to hear, Bucky’s eyes brightened. “Tell me when and I’ll be there.” Though you kissed him goodbye slowly, some tension still lingered in his chest. He waved as you pulled away, missing you the moment you were out of sight.

Taglist: Much love to y’all 😘

@notatallfriendly @thechaoticargonaut @booktease21 @iamwarrenspeace @titty-teetee @harryngtonewithyourshit

@mcueveryday @peakyrogers @thedepressedsponge

Everything- @thefridgeismybestie @basically-introverted

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x poc #yeehaaw #MCU fanfiction #mcu au #cowboy!bucky #b.b.#bucky barnes is a farmer

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infinitegalahad · 4 years

Note

Idk I’ve been feeling pretty down lately. Something cute, angsty, and smutty with a jealous Merriell Shelton and fem reader ?? You can have fun with it

Doux Comme Des Bonbons

Pairing: Snafu x Gender Netural! Reader

Summary: Snafu has a tendency to always wound up into trouble. Regardless, you still manage to put up with him.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Implied sexual harrasment, jeleous! snafu, cursing, fighting, but very minor!

A/N: Of course I can! I feel you, hope this cheers you up! ❣️✨ I’m sorry this came so late. I’ve been studying for a few tests. I promise to work on a few requests this weekend though! I love the requests though, keep them coming in! This one was a little longer than expected. Snafu is my favourite himbo. The title translates to “as sweet as candy” bc this is fluffy-is. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

“Snafu, he’s just a classmate!”

Snafu slammed the door to your apartment building. If school and work weren’t hard enough, this had been your breaking point. As much as you loved your Cajun boyfriend, he was an absolute handful. It was like taking care of a manchild who you loved one minute, the next you wanted to scream in his face. Whenever things were peaceful between you, it was bliss. Endless worship, cuddles, cute french nicknames, romantic and steamy nights. It was anything a partner could ask for.

But when all hell would break loose between you two, it would be full-on discord.

“Classmate ma’ ass. Prissy lil’ fucker. I’ve seen ‘da way ‘dat preppy boy looks at you.” Snafu annoyingly badgered. He followed you around your apartment. Stopping at the kitchen counter, you spin on your heel to look at him straight in the face, a hand on your waist and an angry pout proudly displayed on your face. “ ‘Dat Chris or whatever his n-”

“Chad. His name is Chad.” You corrected.

The Cajun groaned as his calloused hands grasped onto the counter. He was extremely aggravated with hell in his eyes. “Whatever. I don’t like ‘yah hangin’ ‘round him. Chad kept starin’ at you like you were a piece of meat. Tried to fuckin’ steal ma’ seat next to you! ‘Dat lil’ sunva gun tryin’ to sit next ‘ta ‘ma Cher!”

Chad wasn’t someone you considered a friend or acquaintance. He was someone who was in your lecture who happened to be one of your friend’s inner friends. Whenever you would go to study, Chad would always tag along. He mainly wouldn’t study and would pester the hell out of you. He had even followed you to Snafu’s jeep, which proceeded to Snafu almost running him over. Thankfully you had convinced Chad not to press charges.

There was no denying he was a total asshole. He wore the brighetst polos, cheated on every test, and did whatever he pleased. Snafu was convinced that his parents paid his way into college. It baffled you how you’re best friend could even consider someone such as Chad a friend. His whole purpose of being alive was to annoy you. Snafu surely didn’t care for him. But you only had the class for another two months, and then you would be rid of Chad.

Two months had gone by and Chad’s advances had begun to slowly die down. He was aware that you were dating Snafu, who he deemed a man out of your league. It was true, but you loved Snafu with every part of your soul. Snafu was not your everyday boyfriend. It was like dating a man child off of his ADHD medication. He was a somewhat (but still young) man who worked in lumber, a little rough around the edge with a thick Cajun accent. You were a teacher’s pet with a kind heart and gentle presence. When your friend Eugene had set you up, you’d never thought it would work. But date after date, the two of you only grew closer. Within three months, you had moved into Snafu’s apartment since you could barely afford to live in a shitty dorm. When Snafu had offered his home to become your home, you knew you had fallen in love with him. As much as Snafu was the occasional pain in the neck, he was yours and you were his.

Also in those two months, your professor had invited you to a semester party after you had finished up exams. The university you attended was celebrating his retirement and had invited the whole school. Not wanting you to be alone, Snafu tagged along. He looked amazing that night; his wild curls tamed with copious amounts of gel, a white collared shirt, and dress shoes that were crisp. It would have been a lovely night if Snafu had simply kept his mouth shut, which he struggled with.

-----

Walking arm and arm with your Cajun boyfriend, you were literally the belle of the ball. The amount of compliments you had received on your outfit was impressive. You had to thank your friend for the simple, yet elegant outfit.

One of your classmates had stopped to compliment your outfit. After a short discussion, you and Snafu continued your way to your assigned seating. Smiling at one of your classmates, Snafu pulled you in closer to his body.

“Relax Snaf,” You smiled as you leaned your head onto his shoulder. “Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“Whaddya talkin’ ‘bout? I’m fine. Justa’ lotta guys comin’ up ta you-I don’t blame them ‘doe. But if the-”

“Y/n!”

Snafu was cut off by your friend Hana. Best friends since birth, the two of you were inseparable. Same neighborhood, same high school, and same world-renowned university. Hana knew you better than your own parents at times. You left Snafu’s link to go give her a hug. Hana walked over and gave Snafu a pat on the back, knowing him quite well. You could tell she was a little standoffish with him since she thought he was way out of your league, but was glad to finally see you happy.

“Someone's looking dapper tonight!” Hana commented, patting Snafu’s shoulder. Snafu chuckled and nodded back, complimenting Hana’s (hideous) pink coral slacks. You saw Snafu’s confusion at how bright the pants were. Hana, even if she was your best friend, was a drastically different person from you. “Glad you brought him along, y/n. You guys look so cute together!”

Snafu stood right beside you. Feeling a firm hand on your waist, he looked over and gave you a devilish smirk. “Hana, my cher right here is ‘da real belle of the ball? They don’t even have to try-they just always look flawless.”

While being flirty, Snafu’s sweet side was starting to break through. The three of you chuckled as you gave Snafu a peck on the cheek. Cooing into his ear, “Merriell Shelton, you’re one heck of a kiss up.”

“What? I’m only speakin’ the truth.” He defended.

Hana smiled along at that, giving you a small wink. “Snafu is only speaking the truth. You guys are looking for your table?”

You nodded in response. The banquet hall was small and full of people. It was also dark which made it near impossible to find your assigned seating.

“We’re actually at the same table! Allow me to lead the way.” Hana stated. Snafu and you followed here through the crowd to the table. It mainly contained your classmates and a few of their families and friends. Everything was at peace until you saw a flash of a preppy patchwork suitjacket. It took a minute to process before it hit you and Snafu.

It was the one and only Chad.

Chad had been conversing with his friends.Upon seeing you, he let out a bostieorus laugh with his other preppy friends. Snafu felt immeidntly threatened in his presence, his hold tigenthing at your waist. He was trying to act tough but came off more as a child who’s favoruite toy was going to be taken away. As Chad stood up to come greet himself, you leaned over with your teeth gritted into a smile.

“Don’t say a damn thing. I can handle this.”

The tension between Chad and Snafu was evident. Here Chad was a young and egotistical frat boy who thousands of girls would squirm after. Here Snafu was, a bug-eyed Cajun with a heavy accent and one hell of an attitude. Chad still seemingly wasn’t over the fact that he was almost run over one time by Snafu. He even lightly joked about it, which didn’t sit well with any of you. This only caused Snafu’s burning hatred for Chad to grow even more. Chad was the gasoline and Snafu was the flame. Unfortunately, you and Snafu were placed right next to Chad and his friends. Hana was right next to you and knew that this wasn’t going to end well with the prepster and Cajun. Snafu would swing around the cheap whiskey in his cup and glare down Chad whenever he would even dare look at you. You hated the fact that Snafu was acting like this just because of Chad. The inner immature child in Snafu was beginning to show when Chad began to talk politics. It led to a passive aggressive agreement before you became the mediator before someone got a black eye.

Chad was busy talking to his goons when Snafu turned to you, a hand on your thigh. You placed your hand, squeezing it as you leaned in. “Bab-”

“I don’t like him. Prissy little bitc-”

“Merriell!” You scolded. “Langug-” Snafu smirked as he leaned in to whisper into your ear. “I ain’t a Proctologist, but I know an asshole when I see one. Do people think he’s straight? With those pink tight pants, it’s sendin’ another message.”

A snort escaped your mouth as you leaned into the Cajun’s shoulder. He did have a point though. What did people see in Chad that was so attractive?

Snafu noticed that you were amused by his humor. That devilish smirk you knew all too well was plastered on his face. “We should bust outta here, ditch the party and go back home. Watch a ninety day fiance. I like what’s on ‘da outside, but i wanna see what’s on ‘da inside…”

Snafu’s fingers crawled closer to your stomach. You bit your lip in response, your cheeks burning. It was so hard to resist him all dressed up and neat. Two could play this game.

“What the hell am I ever gonna do with you, Merriell Shelton?”

“Beats me, (Y/p) (Y/l/n).” He purred into your ear. It was definitely starting to become harder to resist him, especially when he called you by your professional name. But you had to contain yourself and watch over Snafu for another hour.

Your professor had walked over, interrupting your intimate moment. It was mostly for the better. Snafu had a chance to talk to your professor and learn more about the class you had been taking. He chatted up a storm with Snafu, who seemed integrued. Snafu wasn’t one for learning whatsoever. But anything that his partner would do was of interest. Your professor had even complimented Snafu saying that he had found a lovely partner. As he walked away, Snafu stood by and grabbed your drink to go get a refill. You attempted to get up but Snafu put a hand on your shoulder, holding you down.

“Sit down, darlin’.” He stated, saying a hard d in his creamy Cajun voice. “I’m takin’ care of my smart lil’ student.”

The next few events happened too quickly for you to process. Once Snafu had left, Chad had scooted into his seat. You could smell the vodka on his lips. He began to be his typical self, but got much more invasive of your space. You mostly ignored him as he talked about how rich his family was and his summer house on Nantucket. Hana wasn’t there, so you were stuck until Snafu came back.

Chad began to insulet your boyfriend. It started out as nothing more than a drunken rant, but things slowly came to tug at your heart. He began to make fun of his appearance, calling him “bug-eyed” and “dirty looking skin”. He made fun of his work occupation, outfit, almost anything and everything about him. It was definitely an uncomfortable situation. Where the hell was Snafu?

The breaking point was when Chad had wrapped his arm around you, asking you “What the hell do you see in that loser?”

The next events were full of discord. Snafu had come over, furious. He had yanked Chad out of his chair, yelling in his face. Chad began to cry, threatening to sue you and Snafu. He had also thrown pathetic insults at Snafu, which only made Snafu’s burning hatred brighter. Everybody had their eyes on Snafu, you, and Chad. Embarrassed, you grabbed Snafu and dragged him out of the venue. It was best for the both of you to leave before the police were called. The last words you heard before leaving were Chad’s drunken cry.

“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer next day! Hope you both get evicted from your shitty little apartment! You people are so evil!”

------

“You could have just ignored him!”

“Like hell! He had yah’ hand ‘round you, tryin’ to s-”

“Oh for the love of god!” You cursed. “I could’ve handled that on my own. You didn’t have to yank him out of his chair!”

“I did have ‘ta! He was assaultin’ you! You’re my c-”

“Merriell, do not cher me. This is serious,” You hissed. All you wanted to do was go to bed and escape this horrible nightmare. “He could charge you for assault. Even if it was minor, you did try to run him over with your car. There’s no way you could stand a chance against that. If you had let me handle it, it wou-”

Snafu raised his voice, “Y/N! HE WAS HARRASIN’ YOU! TRIED TO PULL DOWN ‘YER PANTS! WHAT ‘DA HELL DID YOU THINK I WAS GONNA LET HIM DO? YOU JUST NEED TO FUCKIN’ LISTEN SOMETIMES!”

His sour tone definitely made your whole body go numb. When Snafu raised his voice, you knew he was mad. He was usually pissed off at the world, but it was chilling to hear him scream. His eyes widened as the gel in his hair began to wear off; his unruly curls began to show. You stepped back, feeling tears sting at your eyes. Snafu, upon seeing this, freaked out. He had been irritated the whole night. The last thing he wanted was to see you all upset. Your lip began to quiver as warm tears streamed down your cheeks. The Cajun’s face softened, walking over to apologize. He had fear all over his face. You were the person he loved the most yet at times he had no idea how to comfort you. Emotions weren’t his speciality. He grew up greedy and selfish since it was all he knew. When he had met you, Snafu had truly changed. He didn’t know how to describe it, but you had made him a better person. You gave him hope that the world wasn’t such a shitty place.

Turning around, you walk upstairs and block out everything. Your eyes are full of tears, blinding your vision. Snafu followed after you, begging for forgiveness. He was like a lost, heartbroken puppy. Instead of heading towards your shared bedroom, you decided to hide away in the bathroom. Slamming the door, you back into the wall and slowly slide down. All you wanted to do was just let your emotions loose and not have to think about absolutely anything. You just wanted to be alone with your tears and nothing more.

-----

The tears eventually stopped with your vision cleared. You could feel the dry makeup under your eyes. Your arms and legs felt numb as you were backed to a wall, staring into the shower. What did your professor think? It was horribly embarrassing for you. There was no way you and Snafu could win a lawsuit against Chad. He knew the power he had over the both of you. It was going to be an absolute nightmare. Hana was most likely blowing up your phone with notifications. What di-

Your thoughts went away when you heard the bathroom door open. It was the one and only Snafu who had the look of a sad puppy. He normally wasn’t this soft, but his face was ridden with guilt. You didn’t even react when he walked over and sat right next to you, his thigh right next to yours. Staring at the wall, he let out a sigh. His big blue eyes were right on you.

“Cher,” His fingers trailed onto your chin as he gently turned your head. Your face was destroyed with ruined makeup. It looked like he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Guilt was all over his face. But there was no time to be whining, all he could do was attempt to make things right.

“Come on,” Snafu cooed. Grabbing your hand, he gently led you up to look in the mirror. This was the second time you saw yourself in the mirror that night. You looked like you had been hit with a tornado. The once neat outfit had been wrinkled, your neatly gelled hair wispy and falling apart, and your face covered with runny makeup. Snafu had gone through the cabinet to grab some makeup wipes. His fingers titled your head to him as he ran it gently over your face. Instead of fighting back, you let him remove the makeup from your face. He made sure to clean off every little bit from your foundation to your lipstick. As he reached your eyes, he peeled off one of your fake leashes and jumped back.

“Sacre bleu!” He cursed, throwing the eyelash into the sink. Snafu was a man who was scared by nothing, except for a fake eyelash. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a chuckle.

“ ‘Da fuck is dat thing? Fuckin’ spiderweb lookin’ bitch. Looks like it has a damn life of its own...” Snafu ranted as his words slowly turned into french. He turned over to you, biting your lip as you held back a laugh.

A smirk appeared on his face as he placed his hands on his hips, “You’d wear this shit?”

“Hana gave them to me.” You shook your head, smiling. He did have a point; they looked like spiderwebs. “I know, they're ridiculous.”

You felt Snafu’s calloused hands grab your waist and halt you on top of the bathroom counter. “Well atleast you make them look hot. Speakin’ of hot, you looked amazing tonight…” He looked down before looking right back into your eyes. “Listen, I’m sorry darlin’. Just seein’ him bother you made me livid. Ain’t no one gotta treat my cher like ‘dat. Especially ‘dat vineyard vines lookin’ prissy.”

You let out a sigh, leaning into his shoulder. “God, his suit was awful…”

“Fuckin’ blindin’. Like, pick a struggle with ‘dat middle part and layerin polo shit…”

A snort escaped your mouth. Snafu wasn’t wrong; Chad looked even worse than he usually did. It was always bright, blinding colors matched with even brighter, more hideous clothes. Snafu’s hand gently caressed your hair as you leaned onto him.

“By the way…” You cooed into his ear, “I’m not condoning what you did, but hearin’ you rip Chad to pieces was kinda hot...”

“Want me ta’ do it again? I’d love to see his little face all scrunched uppa’ ‘gain.”

“God no,” Shaking your head, your hands fiddled with his unruly curls. “If you do, i’m gonna take away all your cigarettes. We can’t handle the lawsuit that’s coming.”

“Y/n, hate to break it ‘ta yah, but I’m not a rule follower. Can I atleast run him over with ‘ma car? Or steal his trump sign?”

“Snafu Shelton, what the hell am I going to do with you?”

Snafu wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. He held on tight, like a child holding a teddy bear. “Stay with me. Right here, right now.”

You smiled into his shoulder as the two of you were wrapped in each other's arms. Snafu was certainly a handful, but you loved him more than anything in the world. He was truly willing to do anything to protect your honor and make you happy. That was a true man, not a boy.

“Ok, your chokin’ me Snaf.” You stated. Moving his arms, Snafu looks at your eyes as you rubbed them. “What time is it?”

“Ten? Darcey and Stacey are on.” He said, grabbing your hand as he led you out of the bathroom into your bedroom. “We can poppa’ few beers and order from Shanghai.”

An relieved sigh escaped from your mouth. Alcohol and chinese food were the perfect cure to a horrible night. “Thank freakin’ god. Anythin’ to forget this god awful night.”

You walked away to throw on your sweatpants and one of Snafu’s flannels on. Suddenly, his hand grabbed yours as he pulled you back to whisper into your ear. “Can’t wait ta’ see you outta’ dat pretty lil’ number ‘ya got on.”

An over exaggerated gasp escaped your mouth as you playfully (gently) slapped his face. A snarky laugh escaped his mouth. You rolled your eyes as you walked over to change. “Keep it in ‘ya pants, soldier.”

“Sorry. Whenever I see yah, I lose control darlin’.” Snafu smirked devilishly. “Can’t help it that you're smart n’ sweet. Just like candy.”

“Seriously, what the hell am I going to do with you?” You repeat yourself as you finish changing. It baffled you how you could handle Snafu. He was a manchild at times.

The Cajun grabbed your waist and began to tickle you. You fought back as you held back your giggles. Carrying you to the bed, he laid you down as the two of you held each other. His hand drew careless figures into your back as you nestled your face into his neck. He placed a kiss into your face, gently sighing into it.

“I love you, y/n.”

“Love you too, you dirty bastard.”

#rami malek x reader #snafu shelton x reader #merriell shelton x reader #snafu shelton #merriell shelton #rami malek #the pacific #my writing

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ka-za-ri · 4 years

Note

34 and 11 please with Lucifer and Simeon.

So, I couldn’t tell if you meant Lucifer/Simeon as a pair or Lucifer and Simeon with the reader... sooo I just went with it. Took me a while to figure out how to write this with a good dynamic. A little bit of fluff, a little bit of angst, a lot of romance... I hope you like it! (unedited bc we die like heroes here) Gender Neutral Reader

_(:3 」∠)_

Part of the Two-Part Drabble Game Requests

Setting: Date gone wrong Quote: “Your hand is in my personal space. Not that I mind. Character: Lucifer and Simeon

It was supposed to be a cute little outing downtown with Simeon. It was supposed to be a well deserved break from your hectic life to unwind and spend some time with the guy you liked. It was supposed to be the perfect day out. Some lunch, some window shopping, maybe a stroll in the park and then watching the sunset together.

Supposed to be.

However, neither of you had been made aware of the festival being held in town that day. Instead of the usual bustle of a reasonably busy weekend, the streets were packed with crowds. Your senses were assaulted by all the sounds, smells and sensations that came with a festival.

At first, you wanted to ride it out, pretend it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. However, Simeon could sense your discomfort with having to deal with so many people in one place at one time. “Let’s go somewhere else.” he suggested when he noticed the way you flinched at any remotely loud, sudden sound.

You were more than happy to get out of the thick of things and to somewhere quieter. Simeon seemed to know all of the good hole-in-the-wall cafes and brought you to one of his favorites. Immediately, the warm wood finishing and the quiet chatter put you in a much more agreeable state of mind.

Simeon led you to a quiet corner of the cafe once your orders had been retrieved and placed his hand on top of yours. “Sorry I didn’t plan this day better.” he apologized, rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand. “I know how you are with crowds and I didn’t think to look…”

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink and letting the familiar flavors take the edge of your frazzled nerves more. “It’s okay.” You reassured him. Though the date hadn’t gone as planned, you still got to spend some quality time with him. “I don’t think either of us really looked up if there was going to be anything going on downtown today. It’s neither here nor there.”

He smiled softly, adoring how you were still so determined to be out and about with him despite usually being an introvert. It was a rare opportunity for both of you to have time to do anything like this. Simeon didn’t have the right words to quite express just how happy he was to just have time with you. “Well, since we’re here, I think I remember there’s a pa--”

“Simeon?”

Simeon stopped mid sentence when he heard his name being called. He looked around to see who the owner of the voice was and as soon as he saw who it was, he broke out in a wide grin. “Lucy? Is that really you? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Simeon scooted his seat over to allow Lucifer to join in. You stared, dumbfounded at the sudden intrusion, but didn’t question it. The way Simeon beamed and grinned when he saw this person was an expression you rarely saw. It was likely best to leave things for the time being.

“It has been a while, hasn’t it? And who might this be?”

“My partner!” Simeon stated proudly before introducing you to him.

“A pleasure to meet you. Lucifer.” The stranger greeted smoothly before pulling up a chair to join you at the table. “I hope I’m not intruding on your date together.”

“Oh, no not at all.”

It would have been rude to interject and tell him that he was intruding. You had to keep Simeon’s smile in mind. It was an expression you rarely got to see. He was usually so cool and collected, seeing him so animated was a bit of treat for you. For his sake, you didn’t want to cause a scene. Your initial date plans had been foiled anyway, it wasn’t like your day could get any worse, right?

“Lucy and I go way back.” Simeon explained. “At least two decades.”

“I think it’s a little more than that.” Lucifer chimed in. “And can you not call me that in public?”

“Okay fine Lucifer.” Simeon corrected himself. “What have you been up to these past few years? I feel like we lost all contact after you quit your last job.”

“Ah, well…”

What they had was a bond that went beyond what you could ever hope to achieve. The way they interacted and reminisced about the times they had together pushed a thorn of envy into your heart. They had all the time in the world and you had only ever occupied a fraction of Simeon’s life. It didn’t feel right to cut into their conversation as they reminisce over the past and caught up.

They pulled you into a life with them that you could never experience. The drink in your hand grew tepid as the hours went by and they continued to chat. It was almost as if you weren’t there, as if you didn’t matter. Despite being surrounded by people, it felt oddly lonely to be at that table with them. They were in their own little world and you could only imagine what it would have been like if you were with them.

For a moment, you were pulled out of the romantic moment you were having with Simeon to see him in a way you were never permitted to. This stranger and his stories about his life drew out an energy and a life no one ever got to see. It was an odd magic Lucifer had and you were equal parts grateful and envious of it.

There was something that drew even you in. Lucifer had a way with words that had you entranced and falling in love with the world he built. You could understand how Simeon seemed to be so smitten with reconnecting with him. The stories he shared were mundane yet somehow so colorful, you could imagine yourself right there with him. It put you in a comfortable lull and you didn’t mind being so quiet during the time the three of you shared.

“So what brought you out to this side of town anyway?” Lucifer asked, turning to you for a change and dragging you into the conversation.

You snapped out of your daze and blinked. Surely he was asking Simeon and not you; however, when you looked up at your partner, you were surprised to see that he too was looking at you, waiting for an answer. “Ah, well…” You laughed nervously, fidgeting with the empty cup in your hands. “We were supposed to be on a date downtown…”

“So I was interrupting something.”

“Well, no. I mean, it was too crowded downtown so we left early.” You shrugged, pretending it didn’t affect you as much as it did. Having a whole day of plans ruined more than once weighed heavily on your shoulders. But, moving the focus to yourself was selfish and rude. After all, Simeon hadn’t seen Lucifer in years, you weren’t about to break up a long awaited reunion. “It’s not a big deal. It’s probably better that we ended up here anyway.”

Lucifer hummed, tapping his finger on the table and assessing the energy between all parties at the table. “Well, I apologize nonetheless for interrupting and usurping your time. Allow me to make it up to you both.”

You learned quickly that Lucifer moved the world at his own pace and all in his wake were helpless in objecting his whims. He led the two of you out of the quiet cafe and onto the streets washed with the warm oranges of a perfect sunset. One of his hands held onto Simeon while the other near dragged you along to follow his impossibly quick gait.

He moved with a grace and a purpose you wouldn’t have expected for someone traveling so fast. You stumbled, half jogging to keep up with him. You didn’t know if you should be worried about where you were being taken. Simeon’s cheerful laugh as he was being towed behind Lucifer seemed to at least bode well.

While the scenery flashed by you and all you could do was focus on keeping up with Lucifer’s long strides and purposeful direction. You could only hope that he wasn’t about to lead you to your untimely demise. While frantically trying to match his pace, you realized that you couldn’t deny how easily this man had injected himself into your life. The way he asserted himself and dominated the pace of the day had you a little bit infatuated with him. His life beyond the little tidbits he shared at the coffee table had piqued your interest and left you yearning for more of his stories. The backdrop of Simeon’s gleeful laughing only added to his allure as it seemed like this man was the only person in the world who could pull such strong emotions out of your partner.

By the time he let the two of you stop and catch your breath, you were greeted with a grand view of the town below you. If you squinted, you could make out the rough outline of the downtown buildings where your day had begun. The sun had just sunk past the horizon and twilight washed across the city. Tiny twinkling lights from the windows illuminated the darkened residential areas, bringing the night sky to earth.

Further, the distinct whistle and pop of fireworks went off where the festival was being held. You made your way over the railing at the ledge you had arrived at and leaned against it to get the best view of the show. “Oh wow, I didn’t know this place existed.” You breathed, admiring the light show.

“Hopefully it makes up a little for the awful date this has been.” Simeon apologized softly, he reached for your hand and squeezed it softly. “It’s been a bit of a flop, huh?”

You giggled, it was impossible to be mad at him when he was so cute. Oblivious as he might be, you could forgive him for one terrible date. “Well, really, you have to thank your friend for saving it.”

Simeon tilted his head and looked at Lucifer who had joined you at the railing and mouthed a quick thanks in his direction. Lucifer only shrugged, waving it off as if he did things like this on a regular basis.

While they had their little silent exchange, you let your emotions stew. You were being unreasonably selfish wanting to keep Simeon in your life while also getting to know Lucifer better. The two of them had a chemistry you couldn’t deny and if all things didn’t work out in the end, you reasoned it would only bring them together while you made a graceless exit out of their lives. Perhaps it was the overall romantic ambience that emboldened you to go for it.

You tried to be subtle, but you were sure Lucifer was the kind of person who took note of everything that happened around him. Before you could reach out for him, you felt his fingers pull your hand closer to his, lacing themselves in between his own and securing your palm against his.

“Uhm… Excuse me, your hand is in my personal space….” You paused, averting your gaze and trying not to be too flustered about it. “Not that I mind…” You mumbled the last part as the boom and crackle of the fireworks drowned out your words.

One hand held the love of your life, the other held the hand of an alluring stranger who had an impossibly strong pull. Between them, you were torn and impossibly selfish, wishing you could have both in your lives. The show was dying down and before it ended, you knew you had to make a choice.

“So, Lucifer.” You started, finally gathering up enough courage to look him in the eye. “How about you come over for dinner sometime?”

“That sounds lovely, I would be honored to join you.”

Behind you, Simeon leaned to the side, catching his old friend’s eyes. He grinned from ear to ear, winking knowingly and squeezed your hand in reassurance.

Perhaps the date wasn’t a total flop after all.

#Simeon x Reader #Lucifer x Reader #Simeon x Lucifer #Simeon x Lucifer x Reader #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Simeon #obey me fanfiction #my writing #requests #Anonymous #Happy sunday #I have never had a single coherent thought in my life

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mystical-flute · 3 years

Text

Uncharted Waters (ch 8)

AO3 || Ko-Fi

She had half a mind to turn around and have someone else do this. The Pharaoh had been cagey enough prior to his ascension to the throne, but now, with the war over and rebuilding efforts underway, his temper had grown even shorter.

But, they had already established a level of trust with each other prior to their promotions to their respective positions, and, if the gods had chosen her for this duty, so be it.

She took a deep breath and stepped into the room. “My king - ”

He turned away from the window, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. “Is it time already?” he asked with a sigh. “Fine. Please, make it quick. I have a lot of work that needs to get done.”

He sat in a free chair as she shuffled over to him, spreading her medical equipment in front of her before bowing.

“They say you have not been eating well, my king. Are you in pain?” she asked, delicate hands taking his pulse.

“I am the ruler of Egypt. The rebuilding efforts are taking most of my time,” he scoffed. “Perhaps I should execute those that gossip about me.”

“It is not gossip to me when it is about your health! It is my job to keep you alive!” she snapped, rising to her feet. “Seto, no one on this court knows how great the pain of losing A - him was more than you, but that does not mean you can waste away because of it! Egypt has been through enough. We cannot lose another pharaoh. Please - ” her voice cut off as a ball of emotion lodged in her throat. “ He would not want that. I do not speak to you as a swnwt, but as a friend.”

There was a high chance that she shouldn’t be speaking to him as a friend, given his position, but she would not allow him to waste away. If he wanted to execute her for it, she would go to the afterlife as a proud woman.

Seto sighed, leaning his head against the back of the chair. “He wouldn’t. You’re right. But there is one thing I need you to do.”

“What is that?”

“The dye in your hair. Rinse it out. If we are to follow his wishes, then we must remove even the smallest traces of him.”

Azila glanced down at the multicolored strands that hung past her shoulders. “I understand, my king. The dye will be gone by morning.”

Everything was too still.

She hadn’t noticed it before, but the shop in the dawn hour was just so still . Yes, she heard the muffled sounds of snoring coming from the living room, but her bedroom was just so quiet . So still.

Even on the calmest days at sea, there would be a gentle rocking of the waves, making her sway in the hammock she’d slept in.

She didn’t get that moment of peace here.

“Your thoughts are scattering again…”

She sighed, staring up at the ceiling in a fruitless effort to fall back to sleep. “It’s nothing serious this time.”

“You are certain?”

“Yes. Why?”

Azila materialized next to the bed. “Osiris allowed me another memory while you were asleep.”

Reika sat up on her elbows. “Oh? And?”

Distress was written on Azila’s face. “The spirit of the puzzle… was the pharaoh before my husband. I do not know his name, but I do know it is important we return to the museum.”

“Your god only just allowed you access to that memory? After we’ve been connected for a year ? No offense, Azila, but Osiris sounds like an asshole.”

“Reika!” Azila admonished. “You should not insult the gods like that. You will never end up in the Field of Reeds!”

“Azila. We’ve been connected long enough for you to know there is no paradise waiting for me when I die.” She felt the slippery ooze of blood on her hands, the weight of all she’d done in Eturn.

“That’s not true. You are a good person, Reika.”

She let a bitter chuckle escape her. “Am I?”

A couple hours later, she stepped out of her bedroom to get breakfast. It was probably still early for teens at a sleepover, but she was starving and there were only so many stupid videos she could watch online.

Not to mention, it was getting a little weird seeing her face plastered all over the internet.

“Morning.”

She glanced over. “Hey Yugi. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

Yugi flinched as a particularly loud snore came out of Joey. “No.”

“Your friends are something else, you know,” she chuckled, steeping a mug of tea. “But they seem like good people.”

“You mean it? You didn’t seem thrilled at Duelist Kingdom.”

She sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was a rough weekend for all of us. Did you find anything out at the museum about the puzzle?”

“No, but Azila thinks we need to head back there, so there’s probably something I missed,” Reika explained, reaching into the fridge. “Do you want me to make you some eggs?”

“Uhh, are you sure you want to cook? Last time you did, we ended up having to order takeout,” Yugi said, looking a little nervous at the thought of her cooking. “And mom made banana bread yesterday.”

Kumi’s banana bread for breakfast was a tempting idea as she spun a pan in her hand. “Yeah, it’s fine. My friend Sanji is a culinary arts student.”

“Scrambled, then.”

“Oh nice, are we making breakfast? I’m starved!” Duke suddenly said, lifting his head from the ground.

Téa let out a soft groan. “Do you guys have to be so noisy?”

Duke and Téa joined Yugi at the table as Reika cracked more eggs, the low sounds of conversation making for a peaceful morning, until -

“I DIDN’T TOUCH THE HOTDOG!”

“Reika, look out!”

Reflex took over as she grabbed a clean spatula, batting away whatever it was that had come flying toward her, adrenaline surging through her veins. Was it the Marines? Baroque Works? Bounty Hunters come for -

A pillow.

She blinked down at the pillow that lay on the boundary between the kitchen and living room. Yugi and his friends stared at her with wide eyes.

“... You okay?” Tristan asked.

A laugh escaped her. Domino. She was still in Domino. Safe.

“I’m fine. Sorry. I just had a weird dream about being chased by a dinosaur and I think my imagination got the best of me. You two go sit at the table, I’m making scrambled eggs!”

The promise of food distracted all but one of the teenagers. Yugi’s worried gaze cut through her, but she forced herself not to look at him.

“Wait a second, you have the spirit of an Ancient Egyptian queen living in your bracelet?” Joey asked as the group quietly wandered through the museum.

“Azila. Yeah.”

“And the spirit in Yugi’s puzzle is a pharaoh ?”

“That’s what Azila said this morning, yup.”

“Okay. So, now what?”

Reika sighed, rubbing her eyes. “I don’t know. I feel like we’ve looked at everything twice, but there’s nothing about a mysterious, nameless pharaoh listed anywhere.”

“Guys? I think he found something!” Téa said.

They followed the pharaoh down a flight of stairs she knew they probably shouldn’t be going down, and approached a large tablet on the wall.

Azila gasped, appearing before them. “I - I remember this! My husband had this commissioned. It was the only way he could think of to keep your spirit alive… my pharaoh.”

“Thank you for bringing him here, Reika Muto.”

This one was a new voice. An unfamiliar woman stood behind them, dressed in white. What caught Reika’s attention immediately was the symbol on the necklace.

“Isis?” Azila asked with wide eyes.

“It’s Ishizu, actually,” the woman replied, turning to the pharaoh. “This tablet depicts you and your greatest rival. Priest Seto, playing the ancient version of Duel Monsters with your magic.”

Tristan groaned. “Priest Seto? Please tell me you don’t mean - ”

“Seto Kaiba, yes. He was in awe of this tablet last night.”

Reika could hear Seto’s grumbling about magic tricks and lunacy rather than the supposed awe .

“Pharaoh, I’m afraid the war to return your memories has only just begun,” Ishizu continued. “There is a group soon to arrive in Domino, called the Rare Hunters. You must use caution against them.”

“Pfft, I’m sure they’re nothin’ compared to us!” Joey declared, punching the air.

“I am glad you seem to be so confident, Mr. Wheeler,” Ishizu said with a weak smile. “I fear the battle will not be easy, but I am pleased to see that the pharaoh has those willing to fight for him. Here. There is something I would like to show you.”

A bright light filled the room, transporting them… somewhere.

“Azila.”

Azila looked up, startled. “Yes, Pharaoh? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing is wrong. I was hoping you could help me with something.”

“I am hardly an advisor, sir.”

“Which is what makes you perfect for the question I have,” the pharaoh gestured to a nearby chair. “Please, sit.”

Azila did so, apprehension on her face.

“I want to know what you think of Seto.”

Azila went quiet for a moment as she thought, then reached down and plucked a coin from her bag, flicking it in the air. “In truth, my king, sometimes it feels like you and Seto are two sides of the same coin.” It was clear Azila was choosing her words very carefully. “You both care deeply about this country and the success of our people. It is just… you have your methods and he has his.”

“I cannot tell if that is good or bad.”

Azila only shrugged. “As I said, my king, I am not an advisor. That will be up to the gods to decide.”

“Did we all just see that, or am I going crazy?” Duke asked as the light faded and the museum came back into existence.

“We all just saw that,” Téa said. “Hey - where did Ishizu go?”

An eerie silence fell over the room.

“Let’s go home. We can talk more there,” Reika said, before frowning as her phone began to buzz.

Meet at my house at one?

Reika checked her phone. Twelve-thirty. It wasn’t a lot of time, but she would probably be able to drop Yugi and his friends off, grab a suit blazer, and rush to Tanaka Manor.

I’ll be there.

“Something is coming, Reika. Something that will expose Earth and Eturn,” Ishizu’s voice said quietly as Yugi and his friends raced ahead of her.

Reika paused, clutching her phone tighter in her hand. “Then we’ll stop it. The worlds aren’t ready.”

“It’s too late. A floodgate has opened.”

She turned. “Ishizu - ”

But she was alone in the hall.

It was quiet in the boardroom, five teenagers rooted to their chairs in shock. They’d been told to do their homework, but no textbook was open on the table.

Gozaburo Kaiba, the man who had brought them all together when they had been just children, was dead. By his own hand.

Reika had known something had happened with the swarms of emergency vehicles and press surrounding KaibaCorp as she’d tried to squeeze through the crowds.

Leichter had found her then, tried to shield her from the tarp on the ground as he took her around the back, but she’d realized something terrible had transpired.

She just hadn’t realized it was Gozaburo, of all people.

“What do you think is going to happen now?” Hideo asked, his usually loud, brash voice hushed.

“Seto’s going to be CEO now, right?” Reika said, biting her lip. “I don’t see why anything would change. Besides, Seto’s our friend.”

“Can we trust him, though?” Katsuo asked, lacing his fingers together. “I mean, he was ruthless enough to yank KaibaCorp out from under Gozaburo.”

“Even so, he should be aware that he needs allies in the wake of just… how this all happened,” Mei said.

“Who better to be on his side? We were all featured in the news just last week!” Sora added.

The door opened then, the five executives sweeping into the room with worn faces.

“Mr. Leichter, is everything okay?”

Leichter dropped a hand to her shoulder, squeezing it with a tired smile. “Yes, Miss Reika. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Fucking liar,” she muttered to herself as she parked her car and made her way to the large back gardens of Tanaka Manor.

“Reika, there you are!” Sora called.

She forced a smile and a wave, taking a seat at the table. “It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve been on the same continent.”

“You aren’t kidding about that,” Katsuo said with a weak smile. “How was America?”

She paused, trying to find the right word. “A learning curve,” she settled on. “But at least the food was good.”

“And how is Seto ?” Mei asked with a smug smirk. “I saw the news this morning. Tell me, just what did you do in order to snatch him up?”

“Seto’s fine.” Reika shrugged. “Nothing special. But I feel like this isn’t a totally innocent conversation about my love life.”

“We want to know what happened to the Big Five.”

Reika leaned back in her chair. “They staged a coup to take KaibaCorp back from Seto and Mokuba, aided and abetted in a kidnapping of Mokuba, locked Seto in a video game, then tried to kill my cousin and his friends when they went to go rescue them. Any other questions?”

Mei’s eyes were damp with tears, understandable considering Johnson was her uncle. “Why would they do something like that?”

“Because they were old men obsessed with power,” Hideo said, narrowing his eyes. “You know the old saying. Absolute power corrupts absolutely… and it happened to the Big Five.”

Sora bit her lip, reaching to squeeze Mei’s shoulder. “I saw Seto last night at the museum gala. He said our standings with KaibaCorp will not change, so we’ll all still have our positions. It’s just…”

“Time for the new generation to fully take over,” Hideo finished, leaning against his elbows. “I can handle that, can’t you guys?”

“This is what they took us under their wings for,” Katsuo agreed. “It’s just weird to think that they were the last pillars standing of the old KC. Noah, then Gozaburo, and now the Big Five. Gone. What happened to them, anyway?”

Reika shrugged. “I don’t know. By the time the police got there, they were gone.”

The others had worried looks on their faces.

“What do we do, then?” Sora asked. “What if they come back?”

“Then they know their place,” Hideo replied, lifting his glass in the air. “Their time is over. It’s our turn now. To the new generation of KaibaCorp.”

There was an awkward clinking of glasses and several long drinks of champagne before Mei broke the silence.

“Noah. I haven’t thought about him in a long time.”

“Do you ever think what KaibaCorp would be like if he hadn’t died?” Sora asked.

“The old farts would still be in charge. They’d still be focused on war tech instead of things like games,” Hideo replied. “A lot of people would be unhappy.”

“What do you mean?” Mei questioned with a frown.

Hideo shrugged. “Have contracts that deal with weapons of war, build and design weapons for war, or deal with, build and design games that make people happy, and even a theme park if he can get the specs off the ground. It’s simple math. Plus it’s a lot easier on the consciousness. I don’t know how much longer I would have been able to take the war profiteering.”

“I have to agree,” Sora said. “I’m grateful for the opportunity for hands-on engineering lessons from Mr. Nezbitt, but some of the weapons he built were truly just… awful. There’s a reason he was called the Demon Warlord of the Factory.”

Reika shuddered. “I actually had a dream a few nights ago about Noah. He wasn’t pleased that he’s been a secret. I ended up telling Seto about him.”

Katsuo stared at her. “You did? How’d he take it?”

“More pissed at Gozaburo than at any of us. Said it wasn’t fair that he threatened us the way he did.”

“He’s not wrong about that. Threatening twelve year olds? Gozaburo was a damned lunatic,” Hideo snapped. “KaibaCorp - no, the world - is better off without him.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Reika replied, clinking her glass against his.

Katsuo and Mei seemed more quiet as the meeting went on, but whenever it was brought up, they brushed it off, which made Reika suspicious.

She was surprised to find Yugi alone in the apartment when she got home.

“Your friends left?”

“Yeah. Duke had to help his dad at their shop, Serenity’s operation is tonight, so Joey went to the hospital, Tristan’s babysitting his nephew, and Téa needed to catch up on homework. How was your Young Five thing?” Yugi asked as Reika collapsed on the couch with a groan. “It went well, huh?”

“It was fine. It just brought up a lot of old emotions, that’s all,” she said, resting her hand on her forehead. “We talked about the Big Five. No one has heard from them since the day you went into that virtual world.”

“And the police haven’t found anything?”

“If they have, Seto hasn’t told me.”

Yugi frowned. “And it’d be pretty weird for him not to tell you.”

“Yeah.”

There was something hanging in the air between them, and Reika let out a sigh. “Go ahead, ask away.”

“Does Kaiba make you happy?”

Reika pushed herself into a sitting position. “He does.”

Yugi smiled. “I’m glad. I don’t like what he did to grandpa, but - ”

“Grandpa said he forgave him for what happened.”

“Good. You know, the other - er, the pharaoh and I were talking about that day before you got home,” Yugi said, taking a seat next to her. “He said Kaiba had a lot of darkness in his heart.”

“Well, that’s not a surprise, considering his father,” Reika said.

“Right… it got me thinking, what day was it that Gozaburo died?”

“May eighth, I think it was. Why?”

“That was the day Kaiba stole grandpa’s card.”

Reika’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh ! I didn’t even realize that.No wonder the pharaoh felt a lot of darkness in his heart that day.”

“The pharaoh said he used some of his magic to get rid of it.”

She chuckled bitterly. “I’m glad. Gozaburo was… not a good man. It’s still something that weighs on Seto,” she said.

“I’m not surprised. It would weigh on anyone. I’m glad he has a friend like you, though.”

“Girlfriend.”

Yugi blinked. “It’s not that I’m happy for you, I’m just surprised that Kaiba would move so quickly.”

“Yeah, so here’s the thing, we’ve been dating for two years already.”

“Two - ?!”

“We wanted to take it slow. Keep it away from the press.”

Yugi laughed softly. “Are you sure you’re prepared for the press now?”

She grinned and ruffled his hair. “I’ve faced scarier things than cameras.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hm?” Crap. “Oh. I mean like… all the stuff I saw in the desert on that first expedition. Do you know how freaky it is to have to learn to protect yourself against snakes, scorpions, or coyotes? Hearing them howl at night, like you’re about to be their meal?”

“Uh, I can’t say I do, but it must be pretty freaky.”

Understatement.

“Yeah, kinda, but it was fun!” she said with a wide grin. “C’mon, I’ll tell you about it while we figure out dinner.”

Guilt twisted in her gut.

“The latest intel says the Marines took all the credit for what happened at Alabasta,” Aiko said the next day. “They say Captain Smoker was offered a promotion and everything.”

“Ugh, of course they did. Can’t have a pirate crew do something nice for the poor civilians, can we?” Reika replied with a roll of her eyes, glancing at the wanted poster of her captain. “At least Luffy’s happy.”

“Weird that someone would be happy having a bounty on their head.”

“Luffy’s a pirate, he wants to make a big name for himself,” she laughed. “Besides, he’s going to be the Pirate King. I’m sure the bounty’s going to be even higher before long. I just hope I can be there with them when it happens.”

“How can you be sure that he’ll be the one to find Roger’s treasure? If it even exists…”

Reika paused, setting the papers down on the table in front of her. “I… I don’t know. It’s just this feeling I have. It’s like I said at the meeting, Luffy just has this… energy around him that I was drawn to. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like… he’s the one that’s supposed to find the One Piece.”

“Like that destiny shit you were talking about regarding Yugi?”

She shrugged. “I think we all have a destiny, Aiko. Something that our soul is drawn to do.”

“You sound like, like…”

“... Like I have an ancient spirit living in my head and talking to me all hours of the day?” Reika snorted.

“It is not all hours of the day.”

Aiko nearly fell out of her chair as Azila materialized in the room. “What the hell is that?!”

“My name is Azila. I am the guardian of the Millennium Bracelet. I am surprised your commander did not inform you of my presence.”

“Well, she did, most of us were just thinking she’d lost her mind.”

Reika rolled her eyes. “Your grandfather cracked a code that led us to another dimension, and your limit is Ancient Egyptian magic being real?”

“It just sounds so insane!”

Reika gestured to the computers and maps surrounding them. “And this doesn’t?!”

Her phone began to buzz before Aiko had a chance to reply.

“Aunt Kumi?” she frowned as her aunt sobbed on the other end of the line. “What’s wrong?”

“Reika, Yugi’s in the hospital.”

#uncharted waters #yugioh #fanfiction

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