#turns out that was definitely the wrong choice and i immediately tanked even harder

[s0fter-sin]

@ my homies with pain disorders, if i described a pain as hollow and feels the way metal tastes, do you know what i mean?

#its my main type of pain other than just a basic ache but my family thinks im nuts (lovingly) #my dad and my sister both have chronic pain and my sister kind of gets it but no really #it feels exactly like a hollow metal bar inside my body that youve licked #but Painful #i had a pain flare today #all in my back and ribs #it came on so damn sudden i got up to make dinner and within five minutes i didnt want to move so it wouldnt get worse #i had my compression belt on so thought that might be making it worse so i took it off #turns out that was definitely the wrong choice and i immediately tanked even harder #i woke up way to early and spent the day on the couch so im not surprised #and its also march and i always flare in march #any other potsies or dysautonomias get march flares? #i know the october slide is a thing and its Very real #but i flare every march like clockwork too #coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #spoonie #pots #chronic pain #dysautonomia

[bakubub]

In which racer!kuroo is your roommate, and seems to only like it when you treat his wounds... (word count: 1.9k)

Ngl quite proud of this one!!

Warnings: 18+, a whole lot of swearing, a whole lot of blood, innuendos and implied nsfw, reader almost vomits (NOT from pregnancy chill, I know we're all scarred but its going to be just fine) and if you're squeamish perhaps skip the scene where reader stitches his wound?

Also bit of a disclaimer: I am in NO WAY a med student and literally all of my knowledge is from movies and other fics... so if you acc know what to do in this situation this may be a torturous for you :D

All due credits go to @aikk00​ for this AMAZING fanart!!!!

I watch as my roommate enters the penthouse, once again scratched up and bleeding, covered in so much blood there is no possible way that it was all his- if it was he would not be standing.

I launch myself off the couch- where I was sitting for the past hour nervously waiting for his return- and slip my arm under his, supporting him as we inched towards the bathroom.

"I can do this by myself you know," he grumbles, his grimace revealing just how much pain he was actually in.

"Mhm, I'm sure you can. Just like you boiled that poor egg by yourself last week, hmm?" I say sarcastically, trying to keep my mind calm and clear, because oh my god it looks really bad this time...

"Oi, its not my fault it fuckin' exploded," he mutters, voice laden with pain.

"You put it in the microwave because 'the shitty water wasn't doing its job.' Of course it would explode," I say, gently seating him on the closed toilet seat and taking out my supplies that I unfortunately have become rather accustomed to using. He's made it a habit to get himself injured.

"Where's the injury?" I ask, setting down my half-empty bottle of antiseptic and box of bandages. He peels off his shirt, cringing at the pain it brought him as the fabric was stuck to the gash that went from his left pectoral down to the middle of his chest.

"Pissed off a bidder after winning a race, fucker took out a knife once he realised he couldn't beat me up," he huffs out, arrogance still lacing his tone even with sweat dripping down his brow as he leans the back of his head onto the tile wall behind him. His Adam's apple bobs down his bloodstained neck as he speaks, and I quickly look away, focusing on the injury at hand.

Not his blood soaked, but nevertheless well defined pectoral muscles, nor the abs that my hands occasionally brush up against and know how hard they really are, and definitely not the trail of black hairs that lead down, down, down...

"What's wrong, the view too hot to focus on the work at hand?" He asks suggestively, raising his pierced brow, even in this state.

I'm quick to reply, having gotten used to his flirtatious remarks from the second I moved into his penthouse, "nope can't even see the view from that massive head of yours. Not to mention your permanent bed head."

He huffs out a laugh, then proceeds to flinch from the pain it must have caused.

"Stop moving, idiot. You're going to exacerbate the cut!" I say, quickly grabbing a damp towel and beginning to clean up his abdomen, whilst simultaneously pressing another rag to his wound to stop the bleeding.

“At least you admit that there is a hot view,” he says in his low voice, gazing at me from his position.

I simply roll my eyes.

No falling in love. That was the deal we had made on the day he offered me a place to stay in exchange for my services as a maid and apparently, a nurse. I cook, clean and basically keep the house running while this moron goes out and acts like the idiot he is. In my defense, dorms are expensive as hell, and his penthouse is nearby. Plus, I don't have to pay rent. It's a win-win situation.

But the feelings stirring up inside my heart might just ruin the dynamic we have going on and simultaneously take out a whole lot of cash out of my pocket.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

Once his skin isn't completely saturated in blood, and the wound has (thankfully) stopped bleeding, I add some antiseptic onto a make-up pad and begin to dab at his wound, earning winces and slight grunts from the massive man.

"The cut looks deep, Kuroo. You need to go to the hospital," I say, worry lacing my tone as my eyebrows crease and earn yet another huffing laugh.

"Do you want me to rot in prison for the rest of my life?"

I roll my eyes at his response, deliberately dabbing just a little harder which earns me a yelp and an attempted glare in my direction.

"First off, illegal street racing won't send you to prison for your entire life, just for like, half a year. Second, this wound needs stitches, and believe it or not, I'm not a fucking licensed medic. In fact, the only experience I have is with you!" I say, immediately regretting my choice of words as I wait for his remark.

"That's what she said," He says, chuckling at his own innuendo.

I sigh in frustration, pouring more antiseptic to make sure there was no chance of infection from whatever grimy ass knife stabbed him, and beginning to gently scrub the wound with a soft towel, so as to make sure there was no debris left in there.

"You're gonna have ta do it," he mutters, his hazel eyes boring into mine.

"I- I can't Kuroo, you can't possibly think-"

"Fine. I'll do it. Go get me a needle and thread," he states, struggling but nevertheless, sitting upright on the red stained toilet.

I stare at Kuroo in disbelief as he utters these words. Was he dumber than I thought? Does he have some sort of head injury too?

I examine his face and all I come up with is unnerving determination. I exhale out of my nose sharply, "fine, dammit. I'll sew your fucking wound shut."

I am extremely handy with a sewing needle and thread, used to really be into embroidery back when I had the time so...it should be fine.

He just shrugs, leaning his head back against the tiles and closing his eyes.

"Fucking asshole. Can't believe I'm saving your damn life," I mutter, leaving the bathroom to dig through my wardrobe for my sewing box and taking out a gold silk thread that I was saving for a special project.

Well, I guess that will never happen.

"Hey, I found some silk thread. It's literally known for its strength and durability in high temperatures, so it should work like a charm!" I say, walking back into the blood stained bathroom and trying to psych myself up.

He grunts in response. I sigh as I begin with mopping up the excess blood and sanitising the needle and thread before chucking on gloves.

I wipe the antiseptic over the wound once more, and examine it carefully.

Well, if his condition worsens, I can always knock him out and call an ambulance...

I decide, screw it, and thread the needle, pretending it was just another embroidery project.

It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, I chant as I puncture his skin with the thin needle.

Kuroo gasps in pain, and I place a hand on his knee, telling him to suck it up and deal with it, half talking to him but also to myself.

To my surprise, he listens, stretching his head back once more and gritting his teeth.

"Don't do that, here put this in-between your teeth," I say, grabbing yet another towel and shoving it into his mouth.

He obeys as I continue to stitch. I feel my gag reflex kicking in as I think about how stitching skin feels as though I am stitching leather, it feels hard and tough while pushing the thin needle through.

Must hurt like a bitch.

Once I've completed my neat stitches down the wound, without vomiting, I tie it off as I would with any embroidery, and clean the area free of any remaining blood. After rubbing some antibacterial ointment over the gold stitches, I stick on a particularly large bandage over the wound and start tidying up.

"Thank you," Kuroo mutters, still seated on the toilet seat and practically panting for breath.

"Ah, the criminal knows his damn manners!! Now get up and get in the damn shower. You ruined my pristine bathroom!" I complain, putting the last of the materials away before walking to the door.

"Wait, I- I can't get up." I turn around and look at him incredulously as he utters his next few words, "will you... shower me?"

My eyes just about pop out of their sockets at his request. "Are you insane?! I'm not your mother, nor your wife! Call your pudding haired friend and tell him to come shower you!"

He shakes his head, a rare pleading look taking the place of his usual arrogant smirk, "Kenma's too lazy to shower himself, Y/n, please!"

I contemplated it for a moment. Sure, I've seen him naked before, accidentally of course, and so what if I have to scrub him clean. God knows he can't do it himself with that damn injury.

Fuck this shit.

"Fine, get up right now." I bark at him, leaving to change out of my blood soaked pjs into a pair of shorts and a tank.

"...I just said I can't."

---

"Ow, y/n, you're scrubbing too hard!" He complains, his exfoliating glove around my hand as I rub his toned back clean of any dead skin-cells and blood remains.

"But look how much stuff is coming off!" I say gleefully, enjoying this a little too much.

Kuroo, seated on the built-in bench in the open shower with his red boxers on, looks back to see the satisfaction dripping from my features.

"Are you secretly a sadist?" he whispers. In response, I begin to rinse off his raw back with hot water, causing him to screech like a cat.

"It burns, it burns-”

“Shut the fuck up, moron! It's 4 in the morning, you’re going to annoy our neighbours. I tried very hard to get in their good graces, and Mrs. Suzuki still doesn’t like me! She definitely thinks I’m some kind of hooker…” Kuroo laughs at this, and I can’t help but watch as his whole face brightens up from his usual emotionless expression. I find myself smiling in response.

I grab his expensive shampoo and pour some into my hands, beginning to massage it into his scalp. With wet hair, his raven strands are for once flat on his head and reach down to his defined jawline. Kuroo groans under my touch, leaning into my fingers. I snatch my hands back and pour hot water over his head.

"ARGH! Y/N!" He screams, hastily getting up and wetting me in the process.

"Ah- what are you-" I don't get to finish my question as he grabs my arm and yanks me next to him under the hot water, soaking my clothes and my hair.

"You asshole!" I screech as I reach up to pull his hair in defiance, but he only grabs my arm and hooks it around his neck, leaning down to look directly into my eyes.

Our noses brushing against one another, he mutters, "You look pretty with your hair wet and your shirt see through."

It takes me a moment to get past the compliment and to hear the perverted comment that he just uttered.

He sees my look of confusion and laughs, bends over, clutches his stomach and laughs, before bellowing in pain because of his injury.

Smiling smugly down at him as he grimaces, I force him to sit back down and continue massaging the shampoo into his hair, warning him that if he so much as moaned I would leave him in here, dripping wet and in pain.

"That's what he said," is his reply.

I smack his head in response.

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

#kuroo x reader #haikyuu drabbles #racer!kuroo #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #haikyu fics #haikyuu!! #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x gender neutral reader #kuroo x gn!reader #kuroo x you

[ateezinmymind]

Peaches and Cream

Yunho x reader

smut

warning: cunnilingus, fem! reader, fingering, male masturbation, foul language and slight breeding

As the sun shone through the curtains, lighting the room gold, you put down your book to take in the beauty. Getting up, walking to the window seeing the sunlit view on the landscape. How gorgeous this was, you couldn’t fathom the beauty.

“Whatcha up to sweets?” Yunho peeps out while turning the corner seeing you in your choice of apparel. The cropped tank and shorts that fit your figure all too well, being flushed with honey. Your body was glowing in his eyes, he couldn’t see anything else but your gorgeous self. “Look how pretty the sky is today yuyu~” wrapping his arms around your waist he softly caresses your skin as he whispers in your ear, “I think my view is better” turning your head to see his expression, you get lost in admiration. Yunho’s face being lit up, gives you the perfect opportunity to worship his breath taking features.

Placing your hand softly against his cheek, your eyes get drawn into his pools of chocolate honey. “There’s no way~” smiling up at Yunho as he slides his hands over your frame, one hand cupping your ass, while the other plays with your top. When he gives you a light squeeze, a small gasp leaves your mouth and your eyes widen. “Y/n, love can I ask you something?”

Gripping onto Yunho’s shoulders you try reading his expression, “of course, anything~” when he gives you a smile with that familiar look in his eyes, you start to question yourself on what he wants. When he pokes his tongue into his cheek and quickly looks down at your body, heat rises to your cheeks. You feel so exposed even when you have clothes on.

Yunho leans forward and breathes on your neck, grazing his lips over the skin, “would it be okay if I eat you out?” thinking your face couldn’t get anymore flushed, you were wrong. The bluntness he has when talking about what he wants, never fails to effect you somehow. Whether it’s praising you or what he’s feeling. If he says he wants you, you’re there to help. If he tells you to kiss him, you’re going to comply.

Licking up your neck and feeling his tongue, you flutter your eyes shut. “Y-Yunho-“ and when he gives the skin a light bite, you can’t help but respond with a jerk of your hips and a tight grip to his shoulders. Softly whining out, he places more love bites over your neck and slides a hand under your top. Firmly squeezing your boob as he trails his tongue up to your jaw. He finally lands a kiss on your lips.

Lips dancing together in harmony, Yunho slides his hand that’s gripping your ass to your stomach. Feeling his way down and pulling your shorts away from the skin, slipping his tongue in your mouth. The soft moan you let out immediately gets swallowed by Yunho, as he tugs your bottoms down. Stepping out of the clothing, leaving you in your panties and your cropped tank top. Which is bunched over your breasts as Yunho continuously fondles them.

“Mmmh y/n, you are a beauty” fanning his breath over your mouth, he wedges his knee between your legs. Involuntarily grinding down onto him you let out whimpers of pleasure. Taking your nipple between his fingers, Yunho groans out “I think this is gonna have to leave-“ practically ripping your tank top off you’re brought up into his arms. “A-ahh Yunho w-what-” bringing you into your shared room, Yunho places you down on the edge of the bed.

The view of your soaked through panties causes a deep groan to come out of him. “You’re already so wet—and I haven’t even done anything” covering your flushed face with your arms and closing your legs, you whine out in embarrassment. Only to have your thighs spread apart and on display. “No hiding y/n, im gonna make you feel good, okay?” Breathing out in eagerness the grip around your thighs tightens as a gentle prod comes to your sex. Hips jerking up in need of more friction, you let out a soft mewl.

“P-please..” choking out in desperation you’re met with a cocky hum come out of Yunho’s mouth. “Please what?” Growing irritated you wiggle your hips up and whine out in need. “Please, please don’t tease me...” as his hands start to slide down your leg you finish, “make me feel g-good-“ and that’s all Yunho had to hear for him to rip off your soiled underwear and throw them on the floor.

It was as if his hunger was predatorily for you. Giving out a loud moan in content, yunho’s tongue lapped against your heat causing you to arch your back in pleasure. “Ngh~ ah” taking your hands to your boobs you vigorously knead at them. Licking from your entrance to your clit, flicking the bud with his tongue, he gives you a hard suck. Writhing, you plead for more. Yunho’s hands let go of your thighs as he brings one to your cunt and the other to the prominent bulge in his pants.

Prodding at your entrance with his long fingers he continuously attacks your clit, rocking your hips harder on his face you cry out. Making Yunho lavish you more “F-fuck y/n” unbuttoning his jeans with one hand he quickly pulls them down. Immediately taking his length into his hand and pumps. Feeling his moans vibrate on your sex, the feeling in your abdomen quickly builds. “A-ahh uh-mmmh” trying your best to choke out from the pleasure, “Y-Yunho..I’m gonna—“ thighs shaking, you cum onto his tongue.

Not even getting his fingers in yet, you came. “You taste so sweet mmm-nghh” Yunho enters his digits in you, fingering you at a slow pace. Whining from the sensitive sensation, mind still hazy from your first high. You fly your hand down into his hair, tightly gripping you earn a deep breathy moan to escape out of the male.

Thrusting himself up into his hand, now making his fingers in you go the same pace. Yunho looks up, seeing your flushed face, leaning back in desperation. You were the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. And it definitely makes him pump faster, the wet sounds coming from the both of you, so lewd and arousing fill the room along with grunts and moans.

Feeling your high build up once again, the noises coming out of Yunho make you clench hard around his fingers. Lifting his head up from your heat, continuing to thrust his digits, Yunho towers over you. Giving you the visual of his pulsing cock, leaking with precum and viciously pumped over your cunt. The grip given to his length, he slides over your clit with his dick. Moaning, legs quiver, hips jittering up hard against him, toes curling you let out a silent cry as a second climax washes over you.

“Such a good girl for me-“ riding out your high, Yunho’s jerking hand slides around his shaft and with more thrusts of his hips, he gives out in pleasure. Coating your heat with his cum, the white ribbons slide down and in your slick. Mixing together, Yunho drags his seed down your slit with his throbbing cock and enters the load in you with a gentle thrust. Breathing out in satisfaction, he brings his wet fingers that are glistening with your release into his mouth. Sucking them clean, Yunho leans in and gives you a taste sucking on your tongue.

“You taste that??” looking into his playful eyes you hum “you’re so fucking sweet-“

and with that...you two connected, mouth to mouth, things eventually lead to be real steamy once again...

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez blurbs #ateez yunho smut #ateez drabbles #jeong yunho smut #ateez imagines #yunho #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez suggestive #ateez fluff #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #yunho smut

[thegreatshippingwar]

Was it worth it

Summary: Based on the movie "Don't breathe" But with Yandere Jack Morrison/ soldier 76

Warnings: Rape, death (not you), murder, swearing, impregnation, messed up logic, blackmail

You remember your first meeting with him, it was pleasant. He was a nice blind ex military man who had just moved after the death of both of his children. Rumour said it was a drunk driver, but you didn't want to preye on anyone's trauma. When you first interacted with him it was when you had made him a house warming give the day after he moved in. It was an apple pie, you figured nothing could go wrong with apple pie. Your Parent(s) had said it was rude not to give a welcoming gift to your neighbour, it was a bit old fashion but you didn't mind. 

The apple pie was warm to the touch as you knocked on Mr Morrison's door.  It didn't take long for the man with white hair and red glasses to open the door. "Good Morning sir, My name is (Y/N) (Y/L) and I live next door." You realized quickly it was maybe best to say the number so he knew which side. "(N/H). Anyway I baked an apple pie here to welcome you to the neighbourhood. I hope you like apple pie?" You started to get nervous he was handsome. Scars litter his face and he was buff for an old dude. You started to blush thinking about him working out trying to keep fit. You pulled yourself out of your fantasy quickly as you realised he probably had a wife.

"It smells delicious." His voice made your heart jump it was smooth but had a rough undertone. "I'm surprised though not many people welcome new neighbours these days." He shifted on his feet before holding a hand out in your direction. "Especially someone so young."

You giggled, hoping to giggle away your nerves as you handed him the pie. "You're right with that. But I guess I'm just old fashioned." 

Mr. Morrison was stoked to have you for a neighbour not that you knew. He thought you voice was angel like, he could listen to it all day. So he quickly tapped his red glasses to unblock his vision. He was using the glasses for training and to appear to be a weak blind man to be less suspicious. Looking at your hair looked smoothed to the touch. You were Beautiful he thought. Not to mention you said you enjoyed the old fashioned ways, something tightened below and Jack had to ignore for the sake of continuing the conversation. When you handed him the pie he felt your soft hand brush against his. 

A cold shiver went up both your spines, Jack mumbled something that you couldn't hear. "I hope you enjoy, and if you need anything I'm just next door."

Jack could think of many things he could need you for, one included you on the floor right now letting him fuck you. He sighed knowing a pretty thing like you probably had someone who would take care of you. Hell if Jack was younger or not pretending to be blind he would absolutely have pouched on the opportunity to care for you. "I'll do that then."

_______________________________________________________________________________

Months had passed since Mr Morrison had first moved in and other than his dog's loud dinner bell it was peaceful. You only visited a few times mostly to bring him some food if you made too much, which he appreciated. You enjoyed the small moments with Mr Morrison despite it feeling like you would prefer him to your current boyfriend. You seemed to be comparing them a lot and you all too quickly thought Mr Morrison was a better man in general.

Andy wasn't a bad boyfriend but you did question his choice of friends. You knew two of his friends were low key thieves that stole from houses. But they never took too much Andy had said. Only enough to survive since their families kicked them out. You felt sorry for the two but all ways had a feeling there was more to the story then they let you believe. 

After many days deciding where or not to break up with Andy you decided you could do better. Besides, you didn't want to involve yourself in what his friends were doing. They always seemed to be up to something. It would be quick and hopefully he would move on. 

You were trusting, Mr Morrison had said so as well. When you broke up with Andy he did not take it well. He yelled and screamed and begged and when that didn't work he blackmailed you. You don't know when he took it all you knew was disgust. He had take a photo of you naked which was weird since you hadn't even had sex with him yet. 

You were scared and when you asked what he wanted your heart sank. He wanted you to help him and his friends rob Mr Morrison. He figured you would be good at cracking the safe he had as you had shown off at a party when you met him that you could crack nearly and safely. You wished you hadn't learnt that skill, you wished you hadn't fallen for his tricks. Andy just wanted you to get money. 

You felt physically sick but once he said he could tarnish your clean record you caved. He threatens not only the naked pictures but photoshop pictures of you doing drugs. So you agreed, despite how nice Mr Morrison was you had no choice. You were too trusting. 

__________________________________________________________________________________

Entering the house was harder than anyone of the four of you thought. Ken who had got a spare key to Mr Morrison's house somehow was deemed useless immediately as there were more locks and keys then the one Ken stole. So Hugo had to pick each lock carefully. Andy had told you that Mr Morrison had well over $500,000 because of the drunk driver killing his kid. Andy had told you that the drunk driver had killed Mr Morrison's wife and unborn child and in order to get out of jail their parents paid a lot of money to the court and Mr Morrison. 

You feel worse knowing you were robbing Mr Morrison because that accident landed him with money. But it was too late to back out once you were in. "Take off your shoes they'll make to much notice." Ken whispered, "If his is blind his hearing will be better."

The whole group take off your shoes and leave them by the back door. You were especially quiet. Hugo walks up stairs toward Mr Morrison's bedroom. He has a hand made sleeping gas bottle ready to puncture and gas Morrison room. You see Hugo disappear as everyone waits in the lounge room for him. After about 2 minutes he returns. "All good?" Andy asks while whispering.

"Yeah, just he seemed to toss and turn once I punctured the bottle. But he's locked in the room now with the gas."

You don't say a word as Hugo and Ken walk straight towards the basement door that has a lock on it. Hugo gets out his lock and picks again and starts to unlock the door only for Morrison to show up on the staircase. Morrison is wearing his cloudy looking red visor glasses, a tank top and some sweatpants. He heads to the Lounge room,  Hugo looks to the group and pulls out a gun. "What are you doing here?" Morrison tills his head a little as you cover your mouth with your hands. You can't be caught now.

"I just walked in dude, I might have had too much to drink." Morrison steps closer to Hugo and Hugo panics shooting near him, "Stay back and I won't hurt you." But Morrison does the opposite and moves quickly towards Hugo. Before he can even shoot Morrison disarms him and holds the gun in his hand.

You stand frozen as Morrison points the gun in Hugo's face and calmly asks. "Who else is with you?" Ken bolts for the door only for Morrison to hear him and shoot him straight in the head. You want to cry, scream anything but you force yourself to be quiet. Hugo apparently didn't know that Ken was most definitely dead. 

"Just me and my buddy." Hugo is staring at you, just before the guns goes off in his head. You and Andy stay quite. Morrison rushes to the front door and locks everything before moving to the back you and Andy move upstairs. You move into his study, your shaking but you manage to keep yourself quite. Your crush just murderer two people, he was worse than Andy. 

Andy points to the desk which has a safe on it. He moves towards you. "Open it, we have time to get it and leave." 

"He just killed two people what if." You cut your whispers short, as Andy points a gun at you. "Okay," tears fall silently as you open the safe to find at least $5,000 in there. You help Andy pack his bag with it. 

"I bet there is more in the basement," Andy's greedy eyes stare at you before opening the study door silently. "Besides there is probably a window you can exit from there."

You follow slowly carefully, scared to make a single sound. You make it to the lounge room, seeing Morrison dragging Ken's body into his mud room near the back door. When he comes back Andy accidently makes a squeak against the wooden floor. Morrison stares towards you both. His red cloudy visor seemed to glow in the dark room. You steady your breath as he walks closer. Then you hear Hugo's phone go off, startling Morrison so much he shots it. Silence fills the air as Morrison sighs before grabbing Hugo's body and moving it. 

Once he moves out of the room you both head to the basement. A dim light fills the basement, and you move quickly down the stairs. The room is filled with shelves, most of the shelves have boxes on them or file-like books. You move towards the dim light to find a fridge with a few benches around. There is a turkey baster on the left side of the fridge. 

While you investigate the fridge Andy is looking at the shelves. "What the fuck?" Andy whispers but you're too busy opening the fridge. A strange liquid in a large container is the only thing in there. Andy moves to your side, " I'm finding a lot of military stuff, but also baby books? What the hell does he want with that." You point to the fridge container and Andy shuggs. 

You decide to move towards this open space light area before you notice the lights turn on in the basement. You freeze before you stop. The lights are hanging over this Woman who is lunging at you. She is in a patted semi room and she has a harnse like a dog on her. Tears are falling down her face and you move your way towards her.

___________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile

Jack was having a bad night, he has to get rid of two bodies. Two idiot robbers decided to try and rob him. Although he was annoyed at first he's glad now having got to experience to kill while blind folded. He can't wait to rub it in Reyes face that he can kill with his eyes closed. But knowing Reyes he might just train himself to do the same. 

Cleaning up the bodies was the worst, god he wishes he was doing anything else. Thoughts of you smiling at him thanking him for protecting the neighbourhood and then giving him a special reward help him get the job done quicker. This wasn't the only time he used you to help him through his tasks. He honestly wished you'd help him normally, but you were always distant. Maybe it was your stupid boyfriends fault, god he hated the man. He would enjoy killing him the second he got a chance.  

Jack heads to the back door making sure it's locked, before tripping on a shoe. Jack freezes before bending down and feeling around four pairs. Which means, Jack grabs one of his shotguns and heads to the basement. He hopes they didn't set the bitch free. Jack then hears the bell ringing from down stairs. "God damn it"

_______________________________________________________________________________

You set her free of her harness using a knife and she gives Andy a newspaper clipping. Andy's face falls as he reads. You pull off her gag and she silently weeps into your shirt. She clings to you before steading her words. "He said since I killed his kid I needed to replace it. He....he.....he," She is staring towards the fridge and turkey baster. 

You feel sick but you pat her head before whispering, "Lets go quickly." Andy nods his head, apparently he didn't want to look for any more money. You pull her out of the room only for a bell to ring, you look behind her and see her leg is still tied to a wire. You assume pulling the wire pulls the bell. You quickly pull out your knife as her face pails. Once you cut it you all rush for the basement door. 

A shotgun sounds and you become imobie as you watch the girl fall over. Andy grabs your arm and heads back towards the shelves. Morrison carefully checks the girl's body. "Shit," Morrison seems pissed. "All that wasted effort." You watch him tap his glasses and the cloudiness seems to clear. Andy is hiding you both behind some shelves. "One of you is a women right?" You hold Andy's shoulder tightly. "How about you give me the woman and you can go free?"

Morrison is moving up and down the shelves, his posture has changed. He doesn't seem to need to touch anything with his hands. He's different. "I could just kill you both, got plenty of women nearby to replace that bitch." Jack thinks of you, god he wishes he could tie you to him.  

Morrison reaches for a remote in his pocket and presses a button and all the light gets out. Andy grabs out his phone and sets the volume to max, he then plays a video from his phone and throws it across the room. It just so happened to be a video of you singing a nursery rhyme. You both hear Morrison let out an audible groan. 

"Fuck," Jack regonises that voice anywhere, "(Y/N) boyfriend right?" God, Andy was dumb. "I think I'll enjoy killing you and your side whore." The video ends just as Morrison picks it up, you are slowly getting to the stair when another video plays. 

"Fine, I'll do it." Your voice again plays, "Just don't, Don't show anyone those photos"

"Got it, wouldn't want (Y/N)'s reputation ruined by false rumors and a nude." Andy's voice was mocking. But you could hear your tears clearly even with the phone's shitty quality. Morrison all but grows before turning the phone off. 

"You forced yourself on her." Jack was pissed, apparently she hadn't touched the dickless jackass sexually so he was forcing her. Jack was pissed. Jacke turned the light back on. Cat and mouse was over. He wanted him dead. 

Morrison rushed over to where your legs were. The shelves may have hidden your bodies but not your feet. You ran for the stair as did Andy, but Andy wasn't fast enough as you heard him scream in pain. "Fuck," You didn't look back and contunid running for the stairs only for an arm to grab your leg and pull you uside down. Your head was facing his knees as you wiggled and started crying. Your whimpers filled the room, but you stopped the second you heard Morrison groan. You looked up at him and noticed his hard on. You wanted to scream but when you saw his face you did otherwise. He was holding his other hand over his mouth. He seemed to be mumbling something, you could see a slight blush on his face.

You panicked, "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. He made me. He said...he said....'' Your rambles were cute. It seemed to ground Jack, so that's what the black mail was for. 

"Have you had sex with him?" Jack needed answers.

"I...I..." You fumble over words, "No, we never..." 

Jack pulls you right side up and smiles, "good." He walks over to the padded semi room and gently puts you down in the middle. You notice Andy moaning as he crawls to the staircase, his legs are bleeding. Morrison pulls out a pistol and shoots Andy quick in the head, seemingly too busy to deal with him. He walks over to one of the selves and grabs a box to bring over. You know you should run but you're scared. Plus you know you won't make it to the door, Morrison is too fast and strong. 

Jack opens the box and reveals a brand new harness. He brings the harness closer and you move away backing up into the room. "Come now sweetheart don't be difficult." He slowly approach low to the ground, little approaching a rabbit. "Please sweetheart," He gently grabs your arm and you freeze. You keep screaming at you body to move to run but you can't. "That's it" He all but coos in your ear as he starts to put the harness on you. "That's my good girl." 

Jack clips in the locks and chains making sure you won't be able to escape. He looks down at your fearful eyes. They all but glow a bright (Y/E) in the light of the room. He can't wait, he thought he could but not anymore. He slowly moves to a pulley lever and somehow you find yourself in the air off the floor. 

"You know she killed my kid right? I had always wanted a family and the 'wife' was expensive. I only wished for the kid to make it but my kid was killed by that 'bitch'." He hisses 'bitch' like she was poison on his tongue. "I decided she would have to give me a kid to make up for the one she killed." He looks over to the turkey baster. "I never touched her, never wanted to. But now she's dead." He looks you in the eyes and you notice he somehow got scissors and you freak out. You wiggle as hard as you can. "I'm glad he forced you to rob me. Do you know why?" You refuse to speak and keep wiggling trying to get out of the harness. "Baby," His hands are on your ass rubbing it slowly, tenderly. "When I ask a question I want you to answer." The threat was clear, so you swallow your pride. 

"Why?" More silent tears, 

"I wanted you, and now I have a good reason to keep you chained to my side. Don't worry too much once I trust you we can have you out of the basement. Once we move of course." His hand moves and he brings the scissors to the front of your pants. "But let's start by making a family." You wanted to scream but only a squeak came out of your mouth as he removed your pants with the scissors. "Adorable," He chuckled before moving to cut your shirt off. 

"Please," He stops for a second, "stop." Jack leans forward pulling your hips towards his painfully erect clothed cock. He hums before kissing your forehead. 

"Don't worry baby, I'll be gentle." He smooth voice runs a chill down your spine. God no, you wanted to wiggle and you tried but his voice stops you. "Baby, stop trying to ryell me up I won't hold back otherwise." 

Jack starts with your clit, rubbing it till you start squeaking and moaning. He enjoys himself too much seeing you like this. He knows he's going to be addicted to this, to you. But he can't help it, he starts kissing your lips hoping to comfort you a little. He all but melts into the kiss, it was just so sweet and soft. 

You feel fireworks at his kiss, you hated this you kept telling yourself. You didn't want this, but the longer he stayed there kissing you and playing with your clit the more your reason seemed to slip. You decided to just enjoy it and worry later. 

Jack waited until you relaxed a little before entering a finger in your hole. He groaned into your ear as he did it slowly. You were so tight, he was a little worried. He started pushing it in and out and you started falling apart moaning louder and crying less. Jack wanted to enter you now, but he had to be patient. "Please?" Your lusted out look broke his patients. 

"Sorry princess." Jack pulled his finger out and quickly stripped. He then aligned his penis in front of your hole. His left arm wrapped around your waist as he moved his mouth next to your eye. His right hand took off his glasses. Beautiful blue eyes greeted you with lust, you looked away towards his member. His dick was big, that you knew. He dick's was leaking and the veins looked angry. His right hand stabled his dick as he slowly pushed in, moaning into your ears. You screamed it was painful, he was too big and you weren't prepared. You started screaming for him to stop, that he was a liar, anything you could to get him to stop but he didn't listen. At least not till he was all the way into you. "Good girl, good job princess. Such a good girl for daddy." 

You kept crying as he kept praising you. You learnt quickly that Morrison was just going to do whatever he wanted without your consent. After a little bit Jack decided to grab your waist with both arms and slowly push out. He hissed as he pulled out your tight warm hole was too welcoming, too comfortable, it was heaven. He had to get back in the moment he was out. He started to fuck you faster and your screams didn't stop him or put him off. He honestly loved your screams although he wished you were moaning instead. So Jack moved his right hand to your clit as he managed to wrap his left arm around your body to keep you close. Your tits kept rubbing against his chest as he pounded into you. 

Soon enough once you felt your clit being rubbed you began to moan. Pleasure and pain where combining and god you just wished it over. You were beginning to enjoy this horrible experience. Jack's lips found yours again and this time his tongue invaded your mouth. You thought he might slow down his pace but no. He was able to kiss you, rub you just right and pound into you. "Please," You all but moaned as you realise the white tingling feeling builting to your climax. Jack was all too happy to pick up the pace. You felt bruises forming on your hips with how he was gripping them. 

"come on baby, Princess cum, cum on my fat cock." His speed seemed to stagger, "Cum on daddy's cock." You feel His cock twitch inside you just before your overwhelmed and moan as you cum. You pussy tightens around Jack and he can't hold back, "(Y/N)" He growls as his warm sperm spills into your abused hole. He pants on top of you for awhile before calming down. 

"Finally I have my perfect family."

#yandere Jack Morrison #Yandere Soldier 76 #yandere x reader

[honeyhan-123]

The (Original) Plan

Summary: Canon Divergence, set after the evens of CA: The Winter Soldier. Having been deprogrammed, Bucky and Steve set out for revenge, tracking down each and every member of hydra that played a part in Bucky’s torture. When they find out that Brock has an adopted daughter, they hatch a sinister plan involving her to punish him. 

Warnings: Dark!Stucky, non-con, breeding kink. Please if this fic may trigger you in any way shape or form please do not read it. 

Word Count: 3.9k

AN: I actually hate this current title so if anyone has any better suggestions they would be greatly appreciated. This was partially a request by the lovely @the-soulofdevil​ - I’m sorry it has taken me so long - as well as a fic entry for the incredible @sherrybaby14​ ‘Fall Into You’ Challenge. My prompt will be in bold. 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist 

GIF Source 

The sound of glass shattering woke you up, alerting you to the fact that something was wrong. Brock was never that careless. As you opened the drawer of your bedside table as quietly as you could, you heard the sounds of a scuffle coming up from downstairs. 

Gripping the glock he had given you for your sixteenth birthday, you inched the door to your bedroom open, being sure to keep your steps light as your crept down the hallway towards the top of the stairs. You could see down the grand staircase, all was quiet with a little strip of light peaking through under the living room door. Your grip was tight on your gun as you drifted down the stairs, reminding yourself to turn the safety off and trying to remember all the times Brock had taken you to the gun range. 

The sounds of fighting had now faded but that only made you more anxious. Why hadn’t Brock called out to you letting you know that he was okay? You tried to reassure yourself, maybe he didn’t realise that you had woken up or maybe he was making sure the coast was clear. You didn’t realise that these thoughts had clouded your vision, impairing your judgment, until it was too late.  

You didn’t see him coming and before you could even think about firing your gun he had his arms wrapped around you, one hand twisting your wrist until your were forced to drop the gun which he scooped up and placed against your temple. One strong arm was around your stomach, holding your back him to you as you heard the click of the gun coking and he shoved you forward, causing you to stumble. 

‘Walk.’

You didn’t dare disobey him, knowing that if he had managed to overpower Brock so quickly, you didn’t stand a chance. While Brock had wanted you trained in self defence and able to handle yourself, he had tried to keep you as far away from his Hydra life as possible, claiming that he didn’t want you tainted like he was. 

Your mouth dropped in shock as you opened the living room door, your eyes immediately fell on the man you called your father as he sat, strapped into one of the dining room chairs, his hands behind his back, unable to move. Blood was spilling from a cut on his forehead and one of his eyes was already swelling from where he had evidently been hit. 

Your heart broke as you watched the man you had called a father since you were five years old when your parents had been killed while working for SHIELD. He had been your father’s best friend in his death, your father had specified that he wanted you to go to Brock, trusting only him to keep you safe. 

You knew just by watching him that it was unlikely both of you would survive the night. You were sure your eyes reflected the fear that held you paralysed as you mouthed the words to him you didn’t know you would ever be able to say again. ‘I love you.’

You felt the man behind you push you forward, causing you to fall on you couch that lay right in front of the chair Brock was strapped to, banging your head on the arm rest as you scrambled into a sitting position. 

‘Well well well, look who finally decided to join the party. Our guest of honour.’ Your eyes broke away from Brock to flicker over to the man standing beside him, recognising him easily from the news. Captain America. 

All of a sudden the stronger than normal arm wrapped around you and the fact that neither you nor Brock had ever even stood a chance made sense. You realised the figure behind you must be Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. And judging by the wild look in the Captain’s eyes, he was here to kill Brock for everything he had done with Hydra. If you were scared before, now you were terrified. These man hated Brock, he had stood for everything they fought against. 

Ever since the fall of Hydra a few years ago Brock had been running. Running from Hydra and SHIELD alike, insisting that the two of you had as little contact as possible to keep you safe, to keep you hidden from prying eyes. You hadn’t wanted to leave him for so long but you both knew it was for the best. After three years, Brock had finally thought that maybe he was in the clear if he kept his head down and so he had rented a house, all the way in the Berkshires and you had been more than happy to come visit him for the weekend, driving up from New York to see him for your birthday. 

‘You know, after I got Bucky back we thought long and hard about what we wanted to do to each member of Hydra if we ever got our hands on them. It used to be a little game we would play and for the longest time we struggled to decide on what to do to you. How to make you suffer like we did. That was, at least, until we found out about her. I gotta admit Brock, I’ve been dreaming about this for a while now, I’ve just been so excited for it, what about you Buck? Have you been excited for tonight?’

‘Oh yeah Stevie. I think Brock’s punishment will definitely be my favourite. It was a real pain having to wait for this pretty little thing to come home though, thank God she’s here finally.’ Both men started edging towards you and you tried to resign yourself for what was obviously about to happen. You didn’t want it to, but you knew that they were far stronger than you and even on the off chance you did manage to escape, they probably had continuation plans, it seemed like they had been planning this for a while now. 

‘Do you know what it felt like to be completely at your mercy? The real me having to simply sit back and watch as you made the Winter Soldier obey your every command, ruining countless lives?’ He stood in front of you now as he spat his words at Brock, tugging on your elbow, forcing you to stand again. ‘You couldn’t possibly know what that was like for me but you’re about to.’ With that he pulled a knife out of his thigh holster and sliced up through the thin material of the tank top you had worn to bed before tugging your pyjama shorts off, leaving you in just your cotton panties and you tried to shield yourself with your arms wrapping around your modesty. 

‘Naw Doll, don’t be shy. We just wanna see you.’ Captain America pinned your wrists behind you as the other reached up to your breast, squeezing your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You tried to twist your body out of his grasp, away from his fingers but he just held on tighter. Bucky stood on your other side and wrapped his metal arm around your waist, gripping you so tightly that you knew you would have bruises there in the morning if you were still alive. 

‘We don’t want to hurt you Doll but if you make us angry we may not have any choice, we won’t hesitate to spill your blood all on this nice carpet. Do you understand Doll?’ You simply nodded your head, too afraid to speak but apparently he didn’t like that as he squeezed your nipple even harder. ‘When the Sergeant or I ask you a question I expect you to answer, are we clear?’ The tone he used with you sent a shiver through your body as you tried to clear your throat enough to allow you to speak. 

‘Yes Captain.’ 

‘That’s a good girl’ his lips murmured into the skin of your neck, trailing from your ear to your shoulder, pausing to inhale the scent of you. 

‘What did I tell ya Stevie? I knew this one would be an obedient little girl.’   

‘Mmm… that you did Buck. Why don’t we get this show started?’ A smirk took over Steve’s face and his hands pushed down on your shoulders, forcing you to fall to your knees on the smooth carpet. He clenched your jaw in one hand and turned it towards Bucky, who was freeing his cock from the tac pants he wore. He leant towards where you sat, kneeling, and pressed the tip against your closed lips, you were overtly aware of Brock sitting barely a meter away. 

‘Come on Doll, open up. You don’t want to keep me waiting. It would be such a shame if something happened to that beautiful face.’ Fighting the tears that were welling up behind your eyes, you obeyed him, opening your mouth just enough for him to force his cock down your throat. You were in no way prepared to take someone as large as him, gagging almost instantly against his pelvis. 

‘You can do better than that baby.’ He grunted out above you as he pulled back out before thrusting in again, barely giving you any time to breathe as he fucked your mouth, holding your head still so you couldn’t pull away. Your jaw started to ache as he continued forcing himself inside your mouth, his tip practically going halfway down your throat while his metal hand wrapped around your windpipe, further cutting off your airway. 

Black dots started appearing in your vision, warning you that you needed air but Bucky wouldn’t let up with his thrusts, no matter how hard you slapped at his legs trying to free yourself. In your peripheral vision you could see Steve walk around beside Bucky, his cock in his hands, pumping himself at the same pace which Bucky was rutting into you, his dark blue eyes fixed on you as his moans mixing with Bucky’s. 

Bucky’s thrusts started stuttering as he sped his pace up, his moans became even louder and you realised his was nearing the finish. A surge of hope fluttered through you, maybe if you got him to cum in your mouth, he would be done with you for the night. Previous experiences with boys generally proved that after they got to cum, they were useless. 

Swallowing your pride and any remaining dignity, you started moving with Bucky and not against him while swirling your tongue along his length. It was hard at the speed which he was going as well as how obscenely thick he was but you managed, pulling out all the tricks you knew, praying that he would just hurry up and finish. 

Instead of swatting against his thighs, you now used your hands to massage his balls, moving your fingers in a firm circular motion on his sac, feeling it tighten underneath your fingertips. You knew he was truly close now, it was impossible to separate each individual moan coming from his mouth as they just ran on continuously from each other. 

You felt Steve reach and grab your other hand, the one that wasn’t fondling with Bucky’s sac, and guide it to his cock, rubbing it along his shaft. You could tell that he was close as well, just by the look on his face you could see out of the peripheral of your vision. 

You felt it a moment before it actually happened. Bucky’s hand tightened around your throat and the fingers tangled in your hair pulled you closer to him, your face squashed by his pelvis, truly and completely cutting off your airway now as he came, halfway down your throat, giving you no choice but to swallow for fear of choking on it. He held himself in your mouth for a moment, relishing in his orgasmic bliss, before shoving you off, nearly causing you to fall back. You were saved by Steve’s hands however, gripping onto the hand which was still working his cock as he positioned you right in front of him, his own cum spraying out, landing in streaks across your face. 

‘Oh Dollface, you have no idea how good that felt.’ You wanted to squirm away from Steve’s hands as they reached out to pat your hair, treating you as though you were some pet of his. You didn’t dare speak out, merely letting the pure unadulterated hatred on your face speak for itself. 

‘Oh don’t be like that Dollface, I felt what you did with your tongue, the way you took me so well. I bet you’re wet already.’ Horror seeped into your veins at Bucky’s words, cursing your naive nature. Of course once wasn’t going to be enough for the two super soldiers in front of you. ‘Now be a good girl and take off your panties.’ 

Your body refused to move, staying rooted to the spot even when you saw Steve start to strip, lying down on the couch, eyeing you expectantly. You didn’t see it coming but you should’ve. The harsh slap to your cheek had you head whipping to the side, your eyes falling on Brock instead. 

You saw the message conveyed in his stare, the way he begged you to do what they said, no matter how grotesque if it meant you would be able to live. All he had ever wanted was to give you the best life possible after your parents had died and now that he had dragged you into this situation the guilt was crashing into him. You didn’t blame him for what was happening though, and staring at him one last time, you looked away before doing what he said and discarding your panties on the floor.

‘See that wasn’t so hard now was it?’ You didn’t bother replying to Bucky as his hand caressed your cheek, fingertips brushing over the mark he had left just seconds ago. ‘Now go and sit on Stevie for me, I’ll join you too soon.’ You didn’t want to know what he meant by that last part, opting instead to numbly walk over to where America’s Golden Boy lay, one hand behind his head, the other gripping his shaft as he stared at you. 

‘You heard what the Sergeant said. Be a good girl and sit on me.’ You swallowed down the bile that threatened to come forth as you straddled his thighs, your cunt resting just above his cock. The hand that had been playing with himself twisted, his fingers now pressing against you, slowly swiping up and down your entrance. ‘It’s just like you said Buck, she’s already wet for us.’ 

You wanted to scream. It wasn’t for them. It was because of them, because of the fear they had caused the run through your veins. 

‘Girls like her always are Stevie.’ You resisted the urge to roll your eyes Steve continued his ministrations between your thighs, easing one finger into your hole, using his palm to rub against your clit as he worked you up. You hated that despite the fear and loathing you felt for him, he was still able to elicit a reaction from you, forcing you to swallow down the moans that tried to tumble out of your mouth. Even with your eyes locked on Steve’s chest, you could still see, out of the corner of your eyes, Bucky undressing, shedding himself from his tac gear as he neared the couch. You had no idea what these two men had planned but when Steve moved his fingers further back, towards that hole, you started to realise, panic taking over. 

‘Uh uh uh Dollface, don’t you dare move. We’re going to take good care of you now.’ You wanted to die as Steve brought you closer and closer to the edge, feeling that familiar coil start to tighten inside of you. How could you be feeling like this with these men? With what they had planned for you? 

As usual your body refused to listen to your mind, even when you felt that sharp sting of his fingers entering your virgin hole. ‘Oh god Buck, she’s so tight. Even tighter than her sweet little cunt. I’m almost jealous that you’re gonna fuck her there.’ Steve moaned at the way your walls clenched around his fingers as he added another one, pushing them in and out, opening you up for his best friend. 

‘Don’t worry Stevie, we have all the time in the world. I promise you can have a go at it after.’ You felt his body behind yours, settling himself on the couch, straddling Steve’s legs as well. So this was how it was going to happen. You thought to yourself in despair. 

However you couldn’t despair for long as that coil which Steve had slowly been tightening had finally reached its breaking point, your body shaking as the waves of pleasure overcame you, the moans which you had tried so hard to hide were filling the room. 

You watched as Steve tugged you closer, his hand slipping around to position his cock at your entrance. ‘I think she’s ready now Buck.’

‘Good because I’m sick of waiting.’ Without any further warning, both men pushing into you, a yelp escaping at the stretch, at the burn you felt. It didn’t help that Bucky was much longer and thicker than Steve’s fingers had been, or that Steve himself was better well endowed than anyone you had been with previously. 

Tears started leaking down your face as you felt them move in tandem, one pushing in while the other pulled out, using your body as they saw fit. The pace they had set was brutal, the sound of skin slapping filling the room in addition with their moans and your choked back sobs. 

You watched as Steve raised a hand, wrapping it around your throat, pulling you down closer to him as he thrusted up into you, his tip hitting what felt like your cervix as he moved. At this new angle, you were right in front of his face, forced to look at him as he fucked you. Maybe if you closed your eyes, you would be able to pretend that you were somewhere else.

‘No Dollface. Eye open and on me.’ A rouge tear escaped as you opened your eyes once more, staring into his baby blues wanting nothing more than to be anywhere else, especially when his hand dipped down between your thighs once more, right above where your bodies were connected. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, the feeling of both Bucky and Steve inside of you, in addition to having his fingers flick over your sensitive nub had your body spiralling out of your control, the waves once again threatening to crash over you. 

‘Oh Buck, I think she’s close. The way she’s clenching around us, just begging us to fill her up.’ 

‘Mhmm, I think your right Stevie, let’s take her over the edge with us.’ You felt one of his hands creep up from where they had been gripping your hips to your breasts, flicking over your nipples as he groaned out above you. ‘Can you imagine, these perky little tits being filled with milk. How good would that be?’

Steve barked out a laugh in between his thrusts. ‘That wasn’t part of the plan Buck.’ 

You could feel Bucky’s shoulders shrug above you. ‘Fuck the plan.’ 

Steve rolled his eyes but still, there was a smile on his face thrusting up into you more harshly than before. ‘It would be a pretty sight. Just thinking about it makes me wanna cum.’

‘Do it Stevie, fill her up.’ Steve apparently needed no further persuasion as soon you felt him spill inside of you, warm spurts against your walls which clenched around him in turn. He thrusted a few more times before making sure you had completely milked him dry before pulling out, focussing on the movement of his fingers on your clit. 

Even though he had just said how badly he wanted you pregnant, you were surprised when you felt Bucky pull out of your ass, shifting your body before plunging into your pussy. Your face was now pressed against Steve’s chest as Bucky rutted into you, relishing in the familiar clench of your walls, signalling just how close you were. 

‘C’mon Stevie, get her to cum for me. I’m so fuckin’ close. I just need her to cum for me.’ With the continual swirl of his fingers, and Bucky hitting that sweet spot inside of you, both men brought you right up to the edge before pushing you over, sending you tumbling into the abyss. 

You could still feel Bucky empty himself inside of you, his cum mixing with both yours and Steve’s; yet there was a strange distance you felt as well. Your entire body shaking in the afterglow, trembling against Steve’s body as you lay over him. Never before had it been like this afterwards, the continual, never ending waves of pleasure racked through your body and you suspected that the fear you had felt definitely played a part.

Your vision was blurry, unfocused, as you felt Steve sit up with you, his arms wrapped around your middle as a coat was thrown over your body, your panties and sleep shorts gently slid up your legs, a cool finger swiping at the cum that seeped out of you, trying to push it back in. 

You watched in dazed confusion as Bucky and Steve gathered their clothes, redressing quickly, seeming to have a silent conversation. Bucky crossed over to you, zipping up the coat he had thrown over your shoulders and kissing your forehead gently. ‘Okay Dollface, I need you to go with Stevie now.’

You were confused, sluggish, as you felt his grasp your elbow, pulling you up. Where were you going? Why wasn’t he coming with you? 

As though he had managed to read your mind Bucky put your irrational fears at ease. ‘I’m going to be right behind you. I’m just going to get some clothes for you.’ You nodded even though you didn’t want to, letting Steve pull you from the room. You tried to glance back into the room, your eyes locking with Brock’s. A silent farewell. 

You knew that you should be doing something, fighting somehow, but in your current state, your body hung limp, barely just allowing you to walk in a straight line as Steve led you from the house, towards a shiny black car parked in your driveway. You watched as he held the backdoor open for you, eagerly climbing in to escape the cold. It was only as you stared down at your shaking hand that you realised that this was what people meant by going into shock. That was the only way to explain the numbness taking over your body. 

You could vaguely hear the sound of a gun go off somewhere in the distance, the car door open and Bucky climbing in, his hands free as Steve took off. You watched as the house slowly shrunk the further the car got along the street before disappearing altogether. You had no idea where you were going now but glancing between the two men sitting in the front seat, you knew they had big plans for you. 

+

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

#Sherry's fall into you challenge #stucky #stucky x you #stucky x reader #Steve Rogers x reader #Bucky barnes x reader #dark stucky #dark stucky x reader #dark stucky x you #dark!stucky #dark!stucky x reader #dark!stucky x you #dark! verse #dark!Steve Rogers #dark!Bucky barnes #dark mc #dark mcu one shot #one shot #mcu #marvel #honeyhan writes #Captain America #The Winter Soldier #non-con

[eviesmyspiritanimal]

Death Trap

Summary: Audrey gets a new car for her birthday, and Jay offers to teach her how to drive. When they go out, she almost kills them in the midst of her nervousness about disappointing Jay. Will she figure out how to drive? Jaudrey feels and mentions of the Core Four.

  It was currently a very interesting day in the life of Princess Audrey Roselia Camilla of Auroria.

  It was her birthday, and theoretically, in most people’s understandings, there could not be a happier day. Moreover, Audrey’s parents were actually there for her birthday this time instead of on some extravagant vacation, so that should have made it even better, right?

  If only.

  Her parents had been there, and it truly was a wonderful birthday. However, there was one small complication that had totally seemed to mess up Audrey’s day so far.

  “Jay, they got me a car for my birthday!” Audrey exclaimed emphatically and dramatically as she spoke on the phone with her boyfriend, and she could hear the boy’s chuckle on the other end of the line.

  “What kind is it?” Jay asked, and Audrey rolled her eyes, putting a little bit of effort into at least somewhat trying to remember what car that her parents said it was.

  “A Honda Account or something, I don’t know!” Audrey whined in reply. Jay hummed in appreciation as he took in her answer.

  “A Honda Accord. That’s a really good choice. Hondas are famously safe,” Jay affirmed.

  “I don’t care about how safe it is! It’s absolutely terrible, even if it is gorgeously pink!” Audrey complained in pure hopelessness.

  “You make it sound like it’s the end of the world,” Jay pointed out, and Audrey groaned as she fell back onto her bed with a groan.

  “It is the end of the world! I don’t need a car!” Audrey whined, and Jay huffed in a manner so that she honestly couldn’t discern if it was irritation or fondness. Although, it was likely fondness if his chuckle was anything to go by.

  “Y’know, I would have killed to be given a car,” Jay told her, and Audrey could almost see him shaking his head. Of course he didn’t understand. He had actually been one of those weirdos who wanted to learn how to drive.

  “Yeah, but I don’t need a car, Jay, because I am driven wherever I want to go!” Audrey proclaimed, thinking of her wonderful butler who always chauffeured her in a limo wherever she wanted to go.

  “By who? That crusty old butler? Babe, you know he’s old as the hills, and probably half-senile. What’s his name again? Albert?” Jay questioned, and Audrey growled under her breath in irritation. Honestly, everyone always got his name wrong.

  “It’s Alfred. And he’s not senile. He’s an excellent driver,” Audrey informed him somewhat defensively. After all, Audrey was quite fond of Alfred.

  “That’s what Evie said about herself when she ran a red light and got a ticket the other day,” Jay commented with a practically audible smirk, and Audrey rolled her eyes.

  “I mean it! He really is good!” Audrey protested.

  “Once again, Evie said that, too, but anyways,” Jay breezily responded, and Audrey sighed, returning her mind to the current issue of the day.

  “But what do I do about this car situation?” Audrey questioned, and there was a beat of silence. She furrowed her brow, wondering why he was so quiet.

  “Y’know, I could teach you if you want. It’d be a good place to spend some time together, and I could show you all I know,” Jay offered, and Audrey immediately was shocked. However, her shock quickly turned to a warm, giddy glow inside of her. They may have been dating for a while, but hearing that he wanted to spend time with her really got her smiling like an idiot.

  “That’d be great. What’re you going to show me?” Audrey asked, suddenly in a much better mood at the prospect of additional time that she could spend with her boyfriend.

  “Lots of stuff. But I could show you how to get from zero to sixty in three point five,” Jay flirted, and Audrey felt her stomach flutter against her will.

  “Really? Sounds interesting,” Audrey replied coyly, and Jay chuckled.

  “You bet,” he replied confidently in that borderline cocky tone, and she felt a pull toward him as she always did.

  “I’ll be looking forward to it,” Audrey replied, and before long, they had exchanged their goodbyes so that she could return to her family and spend time with her parents before they left, excitement in her heart regarding her and Jay’s sort-of-kind-of date.

  That is, until she began to overthink it, and her mind started to fill with fears. What if she couldn’t drive well? What if Jay thought she was a ridiculous klutz? What if she wrecked them?

  Suddenly she wasn’t quite so excited…

     ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

        “So? You excited to go on your first drive?” Jay questioned from his position in the passenger seat as they sat in Audrey’s driveway.

  It had been about a week since Jay had offered to teach her to drive, and Audrey had taken her written driving test after she read through the instructions in the information booklet that covered all the street signs and other necessary facts that one must know before getting on the road.

  Right now, her previous worrying that she had started had now evolved into something quite terrible indeed. Now, instead of feeling enthusiasm about hanging out with her favorite guy, she was just horrendously nervous because this was her first time behind a wheel, and worst of all, she was with the one person that failure would be most embarrassing in front of.

  Of course, in front of Uma could be more embarrassing, but at least Uma would most likely not think any less of her if she messed up. And it wasn’t that she thought Jay would. It was just that she was terrified that she was going to do something wrong and disappoint him.

  So, with those thoughts at the forefront of her mind, she responded to him finally.

  “Yeah,” she breathed nervously, looking over at him and giving him a slightly appreciative onceover as she noted his exposed arms. She always did love his tank-tops that he had. They showed so much of his arms, and that was one of her favorite parts of him.

  Jay smirked, noticing her gaze linger, and she scoffed, looking away and out the windshield as she tried to recall where her hands were supposed to placed on the steering wheel.

  “You ready?” Jay questioned, and Audrey nodded. She reached over and put the key into the ignition. She turned it, and the car cranked. However, she kept it turned for too long, not sure how long to let it crank.

  He reached over, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from the key as he lightly pressed her hand against the steering wheel.

  “Woah, woah. Let go of it when it’s already cranked up. You should feel the shift,” Jay instructed, and she immediately felt the disappointment fill her. After all, she had screwed up in the very beginning. She looked down at the gear-shifting mechanism, and she grabbed it carefully. She debated on which gear to shift it to, and she finally settled for sitting it on the “D.”

  “There you go. That’s ‘Drive,’” Jay pointed out, and Audrey nodded easily, catching on fast, and feeling her heart swell ever so slightly with his praising tone, despite the fact that it was a very small victory.

  “Alright. So now that you’re in drive, just hit that skinnier pedal there, and---” Audrey pressed the pedal a bit harder than she obviously should have, and the car shot forward, Jay jumping in fear. Audrey’s heart leapt in her chest, and she let off of what was obviously the gas pedal.

  Jay then looked at her somewhat slowly.

  “Okay… So that was the gas pedal, right?” Jay told her, checking her knowledge. Audrey nodded, and Jay replied with an affirmative motion of his own.

  “Good. I probably should’ve gone over that with you in the first place, but here we are. Anyways, the big pedal is the brake and the skinnier pedal, as you know, is the gas. You’ve got to press the gas very lightly on this car,” Jay explained carefully, and Audrey nodded, swallowing hard as her grip tightened on the steering wheel.

  “Alright. Now go ahead,” Jay instructed easily and calmly. However, Audrey could see that he was ever so slightly tensed up. He looked almost as if he was just waiting on a disaster to happen, which definitely didn’t make the girl feel any better.

  Audrey was so scared of upsetting and disappointing him that she could not hardly focus on what she actually did know about a vehicle. Granted, her knowledge was not very vast, but she did know a bit more than what she had been showing just now.

  She slowly eased forward, and before too long, she had reached the road. Audrey stopped at the intersection of her driveway into the road.

  “Go ahead and turn out onto the road since it’s clear,” Jay informed her, and Audrey went out onto the road, getting into the correct lane.

  “There you go. Good job, babe. You’re catching on fast,” Jay complimented, and Audrey couldn’t help the smile that came onto her face. However, she still didn’t look at him since she was too afraid of what would happen if she took her eyes off the road.

  “Unlike Evie, I tend to be a fast learner,” Audrey joked, referencing Uma’s frequent jibe that she shot at Evie on a regular basis whenever Evie was acting goofy at all. He just laughed heartily at that comment, and she grinned widely, enjoying her comment.

  “You better not tell her that,” Jay expressed, and Audrey giggled a bit as she drove down the road relatively slowly. Fortunately, it was a very peaceful, somewhat deserted road that her castle was to the side of, so it was the perfect place for her to try out driving for the first time.

  “Yeah, I don’t think she’d take that well,” Audrey replied, and Jay nodded wholeheartedly as they both quieted into a comfortable silence.

  They were driving down the road silently for a moment until they actually had to pass by a mailbox. Audrey immediately stiffened, terrified that her vehicle was going to run into it, so she swerved into the other lane quickly, and Jay gasped, automatically reaching out and grabbing her seat in mild fear.

  “Okay! Chill! You’re not going to run into the mailbox, okay?” Jay expressed, looking at her with something that strongly resembled mild fear in his eyes. Audrey immediately felt horrible for scaring him, but she also found it sort of funny that her ordinarily so tough boyfriend was afraid of her driving skills.

  “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you were scared,” Audrey pointed out somewhat shakily, her own nervousness getting the better of her in concern to the entire ordeal despite her desire to tease him.

  “No. Just cautious,” Jay coolly shot back, and Audrey chuckled in spite of herself as she rode along on the road.

  “That’s the way I felt about me and the mailbox,” Audrey told him, and Jay raised an eyebrow.

  “Y’know, your smart-mouth’s hot and irritating at the same time,” Jay commented, and Audrey huffed slightly, feeling a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

  “That’s good, since I feel the same about you,” Audrey confessed, feeling a bit of a blush creeping upon her as she felt his eyes scour her form. She instinctively clenched her hands a bit tighter on the steering wheel. He smirked slightly, and she knew he had enjoyed her open reaction.

  “You sure you don’t want me to teach you some other lessons?” Jay suggestively asked her, and she smiled slightly.

  “Depends. What are they?” Audrey replied, feeling just the barest hint of a lightness creeping upon her in the midst of her intense anxiety surrounding her current activity.

  “Let’s just say it involves a little less driving than your current lessons,” Jay informed her, and Audrey was about to reply as she realized that there was another car coming down the road. She stiffened ridiculously in terror as she realized that it was a rather large truck.

  “Hey, calm down. Just stay on your side of the road,” Jay expressed, and Audrey kept it mostly straight, but the shaking of her hands in her excessive worrying was causing her vehicle’s path to veer ever so slightly.

  “Keep it straight, alright?” Jay informed her, and Audrey clung to the wheel as if it were her lifeline. They continued along in silence, awkwardness entering the situation as Audrey’s fears returned tenfold.

  Now she was very worried about wrecking them or doing something that was terribly wrong and potentially life-endangering.

  She could practically see it now. They’d be somewhere stranded in the ditch, killed or nearly killed. And when the ambulance got them, they’d be dragged to the hospital to live out their final days, hours, or minutes. They’d both romantically die together.

  And as bittersweet as that sounded, Audrey found it more bitter than sweet.

  So at this point, she was practically panicked as she drove down the road.

  As if things couldn’t get any worse, she suddenly spotted a pedestrian on the side of the road.

  “Alright, all you’ve gotta do is just veer over to the side so that you don’t get too close to them,” Jay told her, and Audrey moved way over into the other lane as she rounded the curve. As soon as she was on the other side of the bend, her eyes widened as they were headed straight toward an enormous, quite obviously lost eighteen-wheeler.

  Jay’s jaw immediately slackened as he gaped in unadulterated horror. Audrey almost squealed but couldn’t quite get the strangled sound out.

  This seemed to spur Jay into action and he started screaming.

  “HOLY--- TURN THE WHEEL, TURN THE WHEEL!!!!!” Jay shouted, and Audrey screamed as she turned the wheel furiously to the left, narrowly dodging the ridiculously large vehicle that was coming their way and slamming the horn at her.

  “STRAIGHTEN IT!!!!” Jay cried, and Audrey swiftly followed his instructions, barely making it before they careened off the road. Audrey clung to the steering wheel as tightly as she could, and Jay was breathing hard as he stared straight ahead.

  “Pull over, Audrey. Pull over,” Jay instructed, and Audrey followed his instructions, moving the vehicle over to the side of the road. Audrey sighed deeply, closing her eyes as she tried to make her heart stop beating quite so quickly.

  “Babe, I know I’m absolutely irresistible, but you’ve got to focus on the road,” Jay told her in an attempt to be funny, but it was easy to see that he was very much shaken as he clung to both the “oh-poop” handle and the back of Audrey’s seat. Audrey almost wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t quite coax the sound out in the midst of her fear as a result of barely making it out of their last predicament.

  “I was focusing on the road!” Audrey shot back, but it lacked the venom that was necessary for anyone to take her seriously. Truthfully, she was so nervous that she couldn’t hardly begin to focus on the road. She wanted to do well and impress him more than anything in the world.

  “If your head was in the game, then why did you drive over into the other lane?” Jay questioned, looking at her.

  Suddenly, all of the emotions that had been building within her were starting to tumble over. She just could not handle the feeling of being inadequate, failing, and overall, just being a disappointment. And this time, she was not disappointing Grammy.

  No. This time she was disappointing someone that could easily just get up and walk away from her and her horrendous failing self.

  Audrey sniffed a bit, averting her gaze so that she was looking into the trees on the side of the road. She tried her best to hold back the hot tears that were threatening to spill, but she couldn’t.

  She had wanted so much to impress him and show him that rarely exposed side of her that was amazingly competent in some area that was not involved with being a perfect princess. But all she had done was nearly get them killed.

  Audrey felt the first tear fall, and she swallowed hard, trying to control herself. However, when a sniffle that was just a bit too wet escaped her, she could hear Jay unbuckle and him unbuckle her seat belt as well.

  “Foxy,” he uttered that one word, and she wasted no time in throwing herself in his embrace as soon as he touched his hand to her arm. She couldn’t help but sob a bit, and he scooted closer, cramping himself in a doubtlessly uncomfortable position so that he could get nearer to her.

  “I’m so sorry,” Audrey spoke, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to keep her tears at bay and remain composed as she usually worked so diligently to do.

  “Hey, hey, it’s okay. What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, running his hand up and down her back in a soothing motion as he used the other one to keep her in a firm embrace. Audrey sunk against him.

  “We almost died!” Audrey cried, the immediate and pressing issue at the forefront of her mind, and he shook his head.

  “We weren’t that close---”

  “We were that close---”

  “We weren’t that close,” he told her, emphasizing the word and she hiccupped, her most important conflict taking precedence over her.

  “I… I just wanted to drive right for you,” Audrey expressed in a squeak, a sob slightly interrupting her mid-sentence as she trembled. Jay shushed her gently, nuzzling his nose in her hair.

  “It’s alright. Driving just takes some practice, okay?” Jay attempted to reassure her.

  “Mal and Evie didn’t have these kinds of problems with driving,” Audrey pitifully acknowledged, partially testing him. She was really hoping he would correct her, but she wasn’t entirely certain it would happen.

  “Babe, they definitely had lots of issues learning how to drive. Mal couldn’t figure out how to use the more advanced traffic lights. Evie was full of road rage. And as you know, Evie’s definitely still full of it,” Jay joked lightly, trying to cheer her up. Audrey couldn’t help but chuckle albeit wetly, but still remained clinging to him tightly.

  “I just screw up things, Jay, and I can’t do it all perfectly, so what does that say about me?” Audrey sobbed, shaking rather furiously, and Jay immediately responded.

  “No,” Jay shook his head as he pulled back from her just barely to press his forehead against hers. She trembled in his hold, but tried diligently to still herself as he stared at her intensely.

  “You are perfect, alright? Don’t think that some silly driving is going to change my opinion on that,” Jay expressed, his voice firm but his words loving. Audrey nodded tearfully, keeping her eyes firmly locked with his own as she searched those dark brown pools for any comfort she could gain. Fortunately for her, his love for her was overflowingly abundant and she immediately felt at least a little better.

  “Is this why you’ve been so tense through the whole drive?” Jay asked after a long moment, and Audrey hesitantly nodded, looking down somewhat ashamedly. Jay murmured her name as he took her face in his hands tenderly, kissing her lips lightly and stroking her cheeks with his thumbs.

  Audrey pushed forward, almost in a search for comfort as she connected their lips again. He wasted no time in returning her kiss, and she leaned into him, finding that the more she kissed him, the better she felt. She could taste the saltiness of her tears between their lips, and as strange as it was, it was somehow a romantic picture.

  Jay lightly broke away from her, and looked her in the eyes.

  “You know, you’re one of the most perfect things that I’ve ever had in my life, and I honestly don’t think there’s anything you could do to disappoint me,” Jay expressed, and Audrey felt her heart mending swiftly. Between their kiss and his words, she found herself recovering from her breakdown quite quickly and easily.

  He looked at her for a long moment before his gaze slightly hardened and he pulled away from her.

  “Which is why I think you need to start driving again now,” Jay told her, and Audrey looked at him with wide, helpless eyes.

  “I can’t do it, Jay! I can’t do that! I almost killed us just a second ago, how do you expect me to do any better now?!” Audrey demanded in a panic and near tears once again, and Jay shook his head, interrupting her with only one look.

  “Yes, you can. Now have as much faith in you as I do. You have to do this, Audrey. If you don’t take it on now, you’ll be afraid of it, and that fear will just keep growing,” Jay explained to her, and Audrey could see his need for her to understand. She was immediately reminded of when her father had told her the main rule about riding a horse.

  “Kind of like riding a horse?” Audrey asked, somewhat shaken but unable to stop her question, and Jay nodded with a slight grin.

  “Just like that,” Jay assured her. Audrey silently stared at him for a long moment before swallowing hard and nodding slightly.

  “I’ll do it,” she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Okay,” he replied in a low tone, and she took a deep breath before putting the vehicle into drive carefully and hesitantly.

  Once it was in drive, she gently pressed the gas pedal and eased up onto the road, driving on the pavement carefully. Her hands were clinging tightly to the steering wheel, and she was quite honestly terrified of what might come next. However, she shifted her gaze to her hand as Jay’s covered it gently.

  “Hold the wheel a little looser. Be calm,” he told her, his voice gentle, and she followed his instructions, holding on a little less firmly.

  She rolled down the road easily and carefully, and as she followed the gentle curves of the road, she found that her confidence was increasing.

  As she grew near another mailbox, she almost wanted to freak out as she had before, but she remembered Jay’s words and those eyes that told her he wouldn’t think any less of her. So she very calmly drove past the mailbox without any trouble.

  “Great job,” he praised quietly, and she felt a bloom of warmth within her chest. She happened to look up, seeing that the speed limit for the road was about forty-five, and she glanced at her speed gauge. She was currently at about twenty-five.

   So Audrey tentatively pressed the gas pedal a little harder, trying out a bit more speed. Jay didn’t say a word, and she continued along until she was at about thirty-five.

  She kept it at that speed until they reached the end of the road. Audrey then spotted a stop sign, so she paused at it appropriately.

  As soon as she did, she looked at Jay tentatively, worried about what he would think. To her surprise, he was grinning widely as he gazed at her.

  “I knew you could do it, Foxy,” he told her, and despite the fact that the words were in actuality quite simple, they still sent her heart to fluttering. She leaned over to Jay and pulled him into a gentle kiss, before gently pulling away just barley so that their lips were still brushing.

  “And it’s all thanks to you.”

#jaudrey #jay x audrey #audrey #jay #descendants #d3 #d2 #descendants 2 #descendants 3 #jayxaudrey #descendants jaudrey #descendants fanfic #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #descendants fanfiction #romance #descendants fic #audrey rose #core four #rotten four

[harryandmolly]

Change of Pace - 18 (Summer 2019)

cowritten by @achinglyshawn

summary: Shawn and Maya meet again 10 years after life got in the way of love

warnings: language

wc: 12k

-----------

“—acting on your best behavior, turn your back on Mother Nature—“

Shawn is 20 minutes early to pick Maya up. 

“—wants to rule the world.” 

He’s parked a block away, humming to Tears For Fears as his fingers tap anxiously across his jean-clad thighs. 

He couldn’t sit still at home. He closed the shop early so he could comb through his closet that he’s suddenly worried is too poor-artist-chic (read: covered in paint) for the new Maya.

Not that he thinks she really cares about anything like that, but he’s seen her clothes. They’re way fancier now. He’s almost jealous.

He’s always had a thing for nice clothes and fashion. He’s just never had enough extra money to spend on those things. He always spent whatever profit he made on instruments to refurbish and materials for new models and other toys for his shop. 

He thinks, maybe, he needs more hobbies. And he needs to start traveling. 

He’s a bit intimidated as thinks of all the things Maya’s seen and done and the places she’s been. He’s lived a life shacked up in his workshop. He’s sheltered compared to her. 

They both used to be sheltered before. Now he feels miles behind her. 

Finally fed up with what he’d considered meager offerings from his own closet, Shawn decided to borrow a clean, plain black t-shirt from Geoff. Then he tugged on the new pair of deep blue skinnies Maya bought him the other week and tried not to feel weird about it. 

Now he sits in his Jeep and listens to music, his light denim jacket hugging his biceps the way she says she likes, and he’s hoping it’s enough to impress her while still looking, like, chill enough for go-karting. 

He’s probably overthinking it.

The alarm on his phone finally goes off. 

7:04 pm. Perfect. 

Shawn turns up Celebrity Skin by Hole and cranks the engine of his aging Jeep. He drives cautiously around the block, just to kill at least another few minutes, then finally parks in front of Maya’s cottage. He contemplated hooking into the alley to park in her garage like he had all summer, but tonight is different. 

She’s offering a fresh start for them, if he wants it. He’s not going to fuck it up before it even gets going. 

Maya fidgets, poking at an errant splotch of nail polish that made it out to her cuticle from when she painted them earlier. She’s been trying to distract herself all day from their date. Surfing, painting, drawing. She ate ravenously around 5:30, feeling like a grandma. But she wanted plenty of time to get ready.

How do you dress for a first date with the love of your life?

Go-karting is inherently casual, which is in a way harder to dress for. Casual summer feels skimpy to her and she doesn’t want to look like she’s expecting to get laid tonight. Because they’re Not Doing That. Slow and steady.

So she wants to show some skin but not so much that she’s irresistible just… distracting. After a long debate, she chooses a pair of cigarette-thin white capris and a turquoise tank that makes her tan glow. Even with that and the light makeup and hair, Maya is ready outrageously early. She curses herself for it because now she has more time to sit and stew.

What if go-karting is a bad idea? I mean, they’re trying to be grown ups. Maybe this is the wrong move? No, no it’s fine, it’s supposed to be low key and fun. What if they stumble over talking to each other all night? What if they don’t know how to be grown ups?

Maya rolls her eyes at herself and flops back on the bed just in time to hear his Jeep crackle over her gravel driveway. She flings herself upright, fixes her hair and scurries down the stairs, quieting her steps so he doesn’t hear how eager she sounds.

He climbs the stairs to her porch two at a time, trying to get the nervous energy out any way he can before he sees her. He hums. Rocks on his toes, then his heels. Checks his phone. 7:10. A little too on the nose. He takes a breath. 7:11. Good enough. 

He knocks. 

She opens the door with a glowing smile, deciding it’s not too much to look happy to see him. 

“Hey,” she says breathlessly, “You look… so great.”

She ducks her head a little, blushing like a teenager. 

He’s a little busy staring at her to reply immediately; he looks at her as if he doesn’t already know how beautiful she is. It feels like he doesn’t. Everything feels new, tonight, somehow. New, but also better. 

Shawn finally snaps to. 

“You look way out of my league,” he says with a laugh, puffing his chest slightly as he tries to pretend his cheeks aren’t turning red. 

Maya chooses to ignore his comment and decides to focus on the seeping blush in his cheeks because it looks so very good on him.

“Oh,” his brows raise, and then he shoves his hand into his pocket, fishing out the wine red and navy woven friendship bracelet he hid there earlier. He always meant to give it to her. He hadn’t finished it before she left. 

It feels a little silly now. A near 40-year-old man dangling something he made as a kid from his fingers like she’ll think it’s as special as he does. 

He wants her to have it, anyway. Even if she thinks it’s silly and throws it away. 

“I, uh, I found this. A few weeks ago, like, buried in an old college bag I was digging through. I didn’t-- I mean, it wasn’t finished so I finished it and I thought you might like it. But now I’m thinking that I probably should’ve gone with daisies.” 

She watches curiously as he digs through his pocket and produces a present. She recognizes the thread, remembers that he used to spend hours on the beach while she surfed tying bracelets together. It was good for his fidgety fingers when he didn’t have his guitar. 

Maya shrugs and feels a flush in her own cheeks that she knows she can’t fight. “Daisies die. This will last longer,” She holds her wrist out with a smile, “Would you tie it on for me, please?”

Shawn’s lips spread in a pleased smile. She wants to wear it. It seems like a stupid thing to be happy over but. He can’t help it. 

It feels special. Little victories, right?

“Oh, yeah, totally. C’mere,” he murmurs, corner of his mouth quirked. He cups the back of her hand to bring her wrist closer, then loops the thin bracelet around her, tying the frayed ends together tightly enough so it won’t fall off, but with enough room for her skin to breathe. 

Maya likes the bracelet very much. It’s like a portable version of her painting of them as kids at the Avila house -- a reminder of who they were and what they can become if they hold on.

Shawn smiles at her when he’s finished, stepping aside so she has room to close the door and lock up behind her. As she navigates her keys into her bag, Shawn tilts his head. “Still okay with go-karting?”

“Completely. And I thought maybe we’d get ice cream after.”

A little impulsively, because she thinks it’ll help take the edge off for both of them, she leans in and pecks his cheek quickly.

Shawn turns scarlet. Her lips on his cheek burn in the sweetest way. He grins at her, slow and coy, as she drops away from him. He catches her wrist as she goes, slipping his hand into hers, fingers intertwined. 

“I like ice cream,” he murmurs, then tugs her along, guiding her down the stairs and to his Jeep. He helps her inside and definitely does not let his gaze linger on the curve of her ass as she climbs onto her seat. 

Shawn closes the door once she’s settled then jogs around to the driver’s side. 

She didn’t have to worry for very long whether the cheek kiss was a good idea. The heat rushes to his face fast and furious. He takes her hand in his own gesture of closeness and helps her into his car like a gentleman.

He smiles at Maya as he slips into the car. He revs the Jeep to life, Courtney Love once again  rasping through the speakers. Hooking an arm around the neck of the passenger’s seat, Shawn backs down the driveway and into the street. Then they’re off, driving along the beach towards the go-kart track. 

“So,” Shawn starts, trying to sound far more casual than he feels, “How was your day?”

Maya smiles at his music choice and makes a mental note to ask him about it later. It’s a good, easy step into their deep pool of getting to know each other again.

She looks back at him from the singing white sand of the beach. She stifles a goofy grin at his question because it feels so very first date-y and she likes it. She likes the effort they’re both putting in tonight.

“Uhm… it was good. I got out to the beach early, the surf forecast looked great. I got my longboard out there for a couple hours. I stayed and swam around with a snorkel for awhile too, I found some cool fish that were kind of silver, I tried to google them to figure out what they were…”

Maya rambles. He likes it. He could listen to her ramble all day, about anything. He loves her voice, has always found it soothing. He smiles as he listens. 

She hears herself stalling. She cuts to the chase.

“And I spent all afternoon in my studio working on a new piece. It’s almost finished.”

“Oh yeah?” She hasn’t really mentioned her art to him all summer. He doesn’t feel like he knows Maya the artist at all anymore, save for the thimble on his back. He hopes she hasn’t changed her mind about letting him get it inked into his skin.

“Do-- I mean, can you tell me about it? You don’t have to, but, you know. I like knowing about your art.” 

Shawn glances at her, his lips pressed together as he watches her watch the beach. He gets his eyes back to the road before she can catch him. 

Maya feels the difference. This is the kind of question she would’ve dodged all summer. As close as he got, as close as she wanted him, she could never let him in this far. But after their showdown last week, it feels different now. It feels better.

“I started it last week after… uhm, after we fought. I had this image in my head that I couldn’t really get away from so I thought getting it out in paint would help. It’s… it’s a memory, I guess, of you and me and our last night in Avila. We’re on the daybed watching the sunset on the deck. To me, it’s a reminder. That we’re not kids anymore. That we can be more than that now if… we want.”

She looks over from her window to smile at him. “But I’m painting it to look like a photo so all the detail, y’know, it takes a while to get it perfect. I’ve been smelling like turpentine for days.”

“Oh,” he chokes, like an idiot. Shawn wasn’t expecting all of that. He’s not sure what he imagined her painting this summer, but he never let himself think it had anything to do with him. 

He feels the flush creep up the back of his neck again.

“That sounds really cool, Maya. I think, you know, I’d like to see it some time. When it’s finished or whenever.” He pulls up to a stoplight, leans his head back against his seat and looks over at her. He smiles. “But only if you’re okay with that.” 

He knows, almost better than anyone, that art can be personal. It’s why he doesn’t play his music anymore. It digs too deep and he doesn’t know how to share that with people, except for the occasional lyric or two with his therapist, or a song here and there with Geoff. 

It’s hard, baring your soul for people to critique. He doesn’t want to push a boundary by asking to see hers too soon.  

Maya is surprised by how much she wants him to see it once he offers his interest. All summer she’s painted. She’s illustrated loud, catastrophic shapes without definition or meaning and none of it has felt like her at all. She never painted that way before. Now that she’s creating her own way again, she finds she really does want to share it with him. She doesn’t want to hide.

“I’d love to show it to you. I only need a couple more hours with it I think before it’s officially time to leave it the hell alone.”

Maybe after they’ve spent some more time together, this slow, pressure-free, easy time, maybe he’ll let her draw or paint him again. She hasn’t sketched him since she came back to Avila. She looks over at him while he pulls into the parking lot and looks critically at the planes and angles of his face, imagining him in charcoal or fine graphite pencil. He’d be beautiful.

Shawn can feel Maya looking at him. He tries not to blush. He feels her gaze on him the way he used to back in college, when she would think about which angles of his she most wanted to draw. Which were dramatic, or soft, or romantic, or somber. 

She used to go on about it, but now, if she’s thinking it, she doesn’t share. Just watches him as he navigates the parking lot, then slides into a spot with enough room on either side for them to get out. 

He kills the engine. Turns to look at her with a careful smirk tugging his lips.

“Hi,” he starts. “Finished staring at me?” 

He calls her out with that smirk she loves. She beams at him. “I’ll let you know.”

She lets herself out of the Jeep and links her fingers with his again while they head toward the go-kart track. It’s outdoors, so they can hear the engines and smell the gas. It makes Maya chuckle.

“I haven’t done this in… god, I have no idea, actually. It’s definitely safe, right?”

She’s not too worried, it’s a family friendly joint and they have helmets and stuff. Maybe it’s her residual first date nerves that have her keyed up.

Shawn grins, turning on his heel to walk backwards as he squeezes her hand reassuringly. 

“C’mon Lemon. It’s obviously super safe. And I’m pretty sure they got brand new carts like 6 months ago.” 

He gives her a wink then turns back around, navigating his arm over her shoulders while keeping their fingers linked. 

He calls her ‘Lemon’ again and it makes her light up from the inside out. She wants to spin around in circles and squeal like a teenager who just got asked to prom. Instead she shivers at his wink and lets him cuddle up to her. He smells great, just like he always does. She puts her arm around his waist and enjoys the way a middle aged mom looks at them while she waits for her husband and sons to wrap around the track.

There are a few people in line at the little kiosk outside, so as they wait, Shawn pulls out his wallet and holds onto it. He doesn’t want her getting any funny ideas.

He’s been planning to splurge on the all-access wristbands that let them do as many laps as they want and play as many arcade games as they want. So, endless air hockey, if that’s what Maya wants. `  

His wallet dangles casually from his fingers, but in her line of sight. Just so she’ll get the hint. He squeezes her hand again. 

Shawn is up front with the wallet and she appreciates it. She would’ve of course offered to at least split it but he sends the signal loud and clear and it’s sweet and boyishly romantic. She squeezes his fingers right back.

He springs for the good wristbands and she cracks a joke about him basically paying to have his ass kicked repeatedly at air hockey. They get to pick helmets and she picks a pink one.

“So this isn’t like bumper cars, right? I don’t get to smash into people if they’re in my way?”

Shawn barks out a laugh. What he would give to watch Maya chase people down on the track. He shakes his head as they head for the cars. 

“I think you should try it and see what happens, eh?”

She giggles. “I don’t want to get us kicked out of this place before the date even really starts.”

But she knows as well as he that she gets carried away with her competitive drive sometimes. So who knows.

Shawn slips his lime green helmet on his head and clicks the strap beneath his chin. There’s another line to wait in, set up between metal bars that lead to a row of karts. Shawn flips around and leans against one bar, fingers curling around the metal as he smirks down at Maya. 

“Air hockey might be your game, but I’m about to kick your ass at mine.” Shawn reaches from the bar for her wrist, pulling her closer to him in line. 

“Can you ever forgive me?”

Maya follows suit and slips on her neon pink helmet. The strip digs in under her chin but he distracts her easily by tempting her with a challenge.

She closes her eyes and sighs as he pulls her in. She plants a hand next to where he leans against the rail and tilts toward him conspiratorially.

“You’re awful confident for a 35-year-old going go-karting.”

She smirks triumphantly.

Shawn shrugs, grinning and looking down at his old chucks. He glances up at her without lifting his head. 

“Maybe there’s an Avila go-kart league. You don’t know.” 

Maya snorts and pictures it, Shawn, and surely Geoff because where Shawn goes, Geoff goes, even to this day -- the two of them bouncing around a go-kart track, chasing each other around like children, having a blast, one-upping each other whenever possible.

He grins, then straightens up, sliding down the bar as the line moves along. They’re near the front, but the line stops again as all the karts are on the track. Shawn sighs and pushes himself off of the bar. 

He slips behind Maya and drapes his arms over her shoulders. He presses his chin to the top of her pink helmet. 

“Wake me up when it’s our turn, Lu.” 

Maya keeps her silly grin in check as he drapes himself comfortably over her. She feels dainty. It’s kinda nice. As the line moves, she shuffles forward, pulling him along. 

She places her hands over his wrists and rubs his forearms where she knows he gets sore from detailing instruments all day. She hums from the back of her throat curiously.

“Why are you so tired, hun?”

Shawn sighs, shuffling along behind her. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says, flipping one hand over so he can catch her fingers in his.  He tugs at her gently. “Too nervous thinking about my date with this really incredible woman. I dunno if you know her.” 

She could tell he was nervous, too. Hearing him admit it is kinda sweet, though. She imagines him rolling over in his bed, rumpling the sheets, heaving a sigh because he can’t decide if he wants to wear a blue shirt or a white shirt. It makes her smile so big her face hurts. 

His fingers are thick and warm between hers. She massages them gently and lets herself bask in it a little. 

“Bet she was nervous too,” she murmurs. 

Eventually, Shawn has to untangle himself from around Maya as they’re ushered out of the bars and towards the line of now unoccupied go-karts. He keeps their fingers linked until the last moment, only dropping her to climb into his kart. 

He buckles in, looking over as he watches Maya crawl into her own kart. 

“What do I get when I win?” he calls to her, grinning wide. 

The karts are bigger than she pictured but still small enough that watching Shawn crawl into one makes her laugh. As the engines rev, he gets cocky. 

Maya drapes her fingers over her steering wheel and steps past the dozen or so dirty jokes she’d make right now if it were a week or two ago. She smiles falsely. 

“There are prizes in the gum ball machine out front, cowboy. Or were you thinking of something else?”

Shawn can’t stop grinning. Maya never misses an opportunity to tease him. He likes it. He likes that she keeps him on his toes. 

“I was thinking you could buy my ice cream. And let me get extra toppings.” 

He winks at her, can’t help it, can’t feel anything but excited, nervous jitters right now that have his cheeks hurting from all the smiling. 

Maya tips her head back and laughs, feeling the adrenaline start to surge. 

“Any topping you want,” she promises. When she gets like this, she’s hard to beat at anything. She’ll have fun watching him try.

Over the speaker, a man announces 30 seconds until the green light. Shawn shifts in his seat, settling a bit lower and curling his fingers around the steering wheel. He revs the engine, still blocked in behind the gates that have yet to drop. 

He wonders, for a moment, if letting Maya win is the polite thing to do. But Shawn knows she’ll give him so much shit if he does that. She only likes winning if it’s a fair game. He looks over to her, seated in her kart with her hands draped casually over the wheel. 

He smiles. The countdown continues. 

Shawn settles in and she thinks it’s completely ridiculous how sexy he looks revving up a go-kart. It sets off a flurry of excitement that she knows is only egged on by her need to win.

She tightens her fingers around the wheel when the countdown hits the five second mark. When it hits 0, “GO!” flashes big and bright on the screen over the track. Maya’s reflexes are better, probably honed by surfing, and she gets off the blocks first.

The kart is bulky and difficult to manage, probably to keep people from going too fast or getting too dangerous. She gets distracted trying to turn around the first corner. Shawn gets the inside edge.

Maya swears under her breath and careens around the turn behind him, swerving around a middle schooler who’s not strong enough to turn the wheel quickly. She stomps on the gas around the second turn and comes up on the outside, but he holds her off. 

The remaining thirty seconds of the race have Shawn holding steady in first place. He wins pretty handily. As they pull back into the start gate, Maya huffs.

“How do you turn this thing so easily? What are you, the hulk?!”

He knew he would win, if only because he and Geoff do this like, more often than they probably should as grown-ass adults. It’s a beach town thing, though. The go-karting league is totally real, too, and something he’s pretty good at. 

They’ve got unlimited access to the track with their wrist bands, so they get to sit and wait for the next round while others climb out of their karts and new drivers pile in. Shawn grins, leaning back in his seat and draping his arm over the steering wheel as he shrugs. 

“Not my fault you skimp on arm day, Lemon.” 

They watch as the new drivers get settled into their karts, and the announcer makes another 30 second warning. 

“C’mon baby,” he says, glancing over her as the countdown nears 5, “Don’t go so easy on me.” 

He winks, and the lights on the screen above the track flash from red to yellow to green, then ‘GO!’ and with that, they’re off. 

Maya makes it off the block before him again, but he’s got the first turn clinched. The steering wheel isn’t so much heavy as it is bulky and awkward, and he knows that’s what Maya struggles with as he zooms past her on the inside of the track.

Three laps later and he zooms past the finish line and pulls into the gate about 3 seconds before she does. He settles back into his kart with a smile. 

“I think that was better than last time,” he laughs. 

By the time they’re pulling back into the start gate, Maya’s ears are still ringing from him calling her “baby,” even just teasingly. It feels like a year since he’s called her that. She decides to quietly blame that for her bad second race. 

She pouts and slaps the steering wheel when they pull back into the gate. “You are way too good at this. We need to get you out more if this is how you and Geoff are spending your Friday nights.”

She smirks because she’s kidding but also because she wants to be the one he spends his Friday nights with. Hopefully not go-karting because she totally sucks at it.

Shawn laughs, clicking open the hook of his helmet strap. 

“No, no. Fridays are usually karaoke at the Sandtrap. Saturday is for go-karting. Plus, you just don’t like losing.” 

He grins, wide and crooked at her, then plucks his helmet from his head and unfurls himself from the kart. He meanders to her kart, tucking the helmet beneath his arm and holding out a hand for her. 

Maya sighs and lets her hands fall to her thighs. “Air hockey or ice cream next?”

“I guess I could let you kick my ass in air hockey. Make you feel better about sucking at go-karts.” 

Maya tilts her head back and sighs pathetically, putting on a playful show. She lifts her hand weakly into his and lets him help her out of the kart. With one hand in his, she maneuvers out of the helmet and starts pulling him toward the arcade with a spark in her eyes.

“Let me or don’t let me, I’ll kick your cute little ass anyway, Mendes,” she teases.

Shawn laughs, shaking his head and squeezing her hand gently. 

He waits until they’ve given back their helmets to taunt, “You think my ass is cute,” in a lilting, sing-song tone. 

Maya giggles. “Your ass is adorable and you know it.” 

She stops short of smacking it. But she thinks about it.

They head into the arcade and find that one of the two air hockey tables is free. Maya goes for the red paddle before he can argue. She squares up at one end of the table, patting her paddle on the table, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Any last words, babe?”

Shawn’s left with the blue paddle, but he knew he would be. They both love red, but Maya, the reigning champ, gets whatever she wants. He swipes his paddle and glides it in a large circle over the table. 

“Just get the puck and show me what I’ve been missing, Lemon,” he urges with a smirk. 

Maya hunches over the table and puts the puck in place, looking back at him with a mischievous grin when she flips the switch that turns on the air. The table whirs to life and the puck starts skimming around, sliding every which way the air blows it. Maya strikes first, shooting the puck across to him. He bounces it back, but Maya has it on the backstroke and slams it into his goal quickly.

“Your grip’s too tight,” she advises with a wizened nod, “Don’t choke down on the paddle.”

She’s good. Faster than he is getting to the puck. He thinks he’s too tall for this game, because he can’t hunch over the way she does to get nice and close to the table. 

“Hey,” he grouses, reaching down for the puck in the slot. He twirls it between his fingers. “I didn’t trash your go-kart technique.” 

He drops the puck on the table and clamps it down with his paddle. He glances up at her, then back down to his paddle. 

Deep breath in, and then. He raises his paddle, releases the puck, and sends it flying towards Maya. 

(He takes her tip about his paddle grip. It’s a pretty good one.)

His next shot sails into Maya’s goal before she can fling it back toward him. She smirks.

“Maybe the student’s becoming the master.”

She fishes the puck back out and repositions it. She and Shawn volley back and forth until he loses some focus and she swings another shot past him. She cracks her neck back and forth theatrically.

“Mmk, I’m all loosened up now. You’re not getting another shot past me.”

“Your confidence is truly inspiring, Lemon,” he answers with a smirk as he pulls the puck out from his slot. 

He takes another shot.

Maya wins. He knew she would. He keeps up, mostly, scoring on her after she scores on him, but she always manages to stay a few points ahead. When she scores the winning goal, Shawn huffs and slides his blue paddle away, into the middle of the table where it floats around on it’s own, the air carrying one way then the other. 

“Why do I even try?” he laments, pressing his palms into the edge of the table as he hangs his head. 

Shawn looks back up at her after a moment, smirking a little. He tilts his head. “Will you give me a chance to win my dignity back? I can play a round of skee ball and get you that stuffed lion.” 

She loves that she can still beat him in air hockey. The universe feels right and balanced. It’s cute the way he loses, though. He gets grumpy but not mean. 

Maya strolls over to his side of the table and fishes one of his hands away from it, slipping her fingers between his to comfort him. 

“By all means, please. I don’t think I have a lion from the safari you won me 15 years ago. My collection is sorely lacking,” she teases. 

“Well,” Shawn hums, smiling down at her as he slides his thumb across her knuckles, “No animal kingdom is complete without its Lion King.” 

She tugs him away from the table toward the row of skee ball setups, considering what she could beat him at next. Probably pinball. She’s always been so good at pinball. 

He follows her to skee ball, holds his wristband over the scanner on one of the games that then shoots out a shiny white ball. He picks up the ball, spins it in his fingers and drops Maya’s hand. 

“All right, honey,” he purrs, rolling the ball between his palms, “Get ready to be amazed. I’m even better at this than I am at go-karting.” 

It’s probably not the sexiest thing to admit, but he’s always been good at skee ball. Long arms and all. Plus he’s got pretty good aim. God, he feels like he’s in high school, trying to impress the girl he likes by winning her prizes. It’s mostly a joke, but Shawn’s sure there will always be a part of him that wants desperately to impress Maya. 

No matter how slow this relationship goes, that won’t change. 

Shawn tosses the ball in the air once, catches it, then glides it along the smooth slope of the skee ball machine, where it flies over the ledge and pops up towards the corner. He holds his breath, and then the flashing lights go off as the ball drops into the hole that reads ‘100!’ 

“See,” he says with a grin, reaching for the next white ball the machine spits out. “Lion’ll be your before you know it.” 

Maya stands back to watch as he starts racking up points. She crosses her arms over her chest and bites down on a stupid smile. He’s right, he’s excellent at this. And he’s a lot of fun to watch. His eyes are all focused until they light up just like the game in front of him.

“At this rate, you’re gonna win the whole jungle,” she laughs, shaking her head as she watches the point count on the board go higher and higher.

She props herself up against the wall. “Can I ask you something?” She decides not to wait to ask her question. “What made you come back to Avila after LA?”

He tosses the last ball just as she makes his heart stop with her inquiry. He wasn’t expecting it, like, at all. 

The ball pops into the 50 point hole, and then it’s game over. Tickets start streaming out of the little slot at the bottom of the machine. 

Shawn swallows and turns to face Maya, slipping his hands into his pockets. He rocks back on his heels and shrugs. 

“Do you think I could-- I dunno. Could we get ice cream first?” 

It sounds like a cop out, but he doesn’t think this is something he wants to talk about while waiting for the skee ball machine to finish spitting out their tickets. 

Maya seals her lips together. He goes a little tense at her question and almost misses his shot. She swallows, hoping this isn’t too much too soon. She just… she wants to get to know him again.

Maya nods sheepishly and helps him fish his enormous bundle of tickets off the floor. They stack them in Shawn’s fist and start heading toward the prize counter. 

Maya plays with her fingers as they walk in silence. It’s grating.

“I… sorry. I mean, you don’t have to talk about this. I don’t want to pressure you. I understand it might be hard to talk about.”

Shawn frowns. She doesn’t need to apologize. And he doesn’t not want to talk to her about it. When it was happening, she was the only person he wanted to talk to at all. He’s not sure why he hadn’t thought to tell her about it sooner, other than that he was subconsciously trying to pretend like their time apart never happened. 

He can’t pretend anymore. He wants Maya to know everything about him, just like she used to. 

“Hey, no,” he says when they reach the counter. He presses the tickets into the glass as they wait for the clerk to finish helping a gaggle of teen girls. “I want to talk about it. Just. Not while juggling all of these tickets.” 

He gives her a crooked smile and reaches for her hand, now that his are free. 

Shawn does a very effective job of making her feel less awkward about the question. His voice is warm and soft and he takes her hand comfortingly.

She loves holding his hand. It’s such a simple pleasure, but she found herself missing it in their many years apart, when she let herself think about him. She wraps her other hand around his so it’s sandwiched between both of hers.

“I can be patient,” she murmurs meaningfully, smiling up at him.

The clerk takes their tickets and Shawn asks him for the egregiously large stuffed lion that sits atop the mountain of prizes. Maya laughs when he hands it over. She tucks it under her arm.

“I don’t know where I’m putting this guy. Maybe he can live in my art studio,” she muses.

Shawn laughs, reaching over to fluff up a matted section of the lion’s mane. 

“I think he’ll make a great companion for you there. Like a muse.” 

Maya pictures propping her new lion friend up in the corner as a reminder of him. She likes that idea. 

As they head toward the ice cream bar, Shawn lifts their linked fingers, bringing Maya’s knuckles to his lips. He brushes a kiss across her skin, another gesture of reassurance. 

“Okay, Lu,” he says once they fold into the line, “What’s your poison?” 

He looks up at the menu, considering which treat will go best with talking about his terrible time in LA. Probably anything with chocolate. 

His lips kiss over her knuckles but the goosebumps spread far and wide. She sidles up next to him, holding his hand and cupping her other hand around his arm as he scans the menu. 

“I’m going Classic. Chocolate dipped swirl with strawberry syrup and chocolate jimmies.”

She hasn’t gotten ice cream from a truck like this in so long. She smiles, turning in to press her lips to his shoulder while he decides. 

Shawn grins. He likes Maya’s order. She always knew how to indulge. He feels her nudge a kiss into his arm, so he leans over and brushed his lips against the top of her head. 

Maya thinks it’s funny how they’ve been kissing all night, just not on the mouth. They’ve never been shy about PDA. She doesn’t think they’re shy now either, but she does think they’re both taking the slow part of their new relationship seriously. And they’ve unspokenly decided too much kissing on the mouth is a bad idea.

She doesn’t mind, actually. Especially because the idea of getting one single, perfect goodnight kiss out of Shawn has her light on her feet.

“That sounds delicious, sugar,” he hums, then looks back to the men. “But I think I’ve gotta go with with Neapolitan swirl. Chocolate dip and rainbow jimmies.”

He wiggles his wallet out of his pocket as they step to the front of the line to order, feigns like he doesn’t remember giving her shit about buying him ice cream for winning at go-karts. 

He places both of their orders and pays, leaving a few too many ones in the tip jar. He’s always been a hefty tipper, though. He gets it. He lived off of tips for long enough. 

She decides not to fight him on paying, not after that absurd date she dragged him on a couple weeks ago. It’s not that she’s hurting for cash or anything, she just thinks that feeling on equal footing for as long as possible is good for them right now. She does kiss his cheek, though, a fat, wet plant of her lips with a giggle behind it and a “thank you” murmured in his ear.

Shawn’s lip twitch with a hint of smirk when Maya places a messy kiss on the apple of his cheek. He doesn’t get a chance to reciprocate, though, before they’re handed lavish ice cream cones that take a bit of extra effort not to drop.  

Shawn guides Maya to one of the small plastic tables set up in front of the truck. He drops her hand so he can pull her seat out for her, a plastic green chair that scrapes obnoxiously on the asphalt beneath it. 

She sits in the seat he offers and crosses her legs, taking a first few swipes at her cone to alleviate some dribbling. When they’re settled in, she smiles over at him chasing some jimmies down his hand. She decides to wait for him to launch into the LA thing because she doesn’t want to feel like she’s badgering him.

The lion sits on the table between them as Shawn settles into his cone. A few sprinkles fall from the ice cream and onto his fingers as he takes a bite from the top. “Mmph,” he mumbles as he sucks the colorful jimmies from his skin. 

Maya laughs with her ice cream cone next to her mouth as she watches Shawn strategically attack his. She does her best not to slurp at hers but it’s hot and melting quickly. 

He looks up at Maya from over the slope of the stuffed lion’s back and realizes she’s waiting for him to talk about LA. He licks a drop of ice cream from his lip and considers where to begin. He hasn’t spoken about this with anyone in like, four years. He’s only ever really discussed it with Leah and his therapist. Geoff was there, so they don’t have to talk about it. 

“So, LA, right? I think the problem with LA is that, unless you have a solid game plan and like, people you can really trust, the city will chew you up and spit you out. And I didn’t have those things. I figured, I dunno, I could skate by on talent and sheer passion alone.” 

Shawn shrugs, looking away from Maya to lick at the top of his ice cream. He crunches on sprinkles and licks chocolate sauce from the corner of his mouth. 

“I never found a band that I really gelled with. Not musically, anyway. Either we disagreed about, like, our musical vision or whatever, or our personalities clashed or they were more obsessed with fame and drugs and hookers than actually like, being musicians.” 

She listens intently. He doesn’t sound too broken up about it, helped, she suspects, by many years between then and now. Still, she considers as she watches him affectionately, it was his dream and he let it go. 

She ducks her head in disappointment at his assessment of his former bandmates. “That must’ve been so hard. To feel so disconnected from them on something you’ve always wanted.”

She hopes he’s not too disappointed about his trajectory. He seems truly happy with his shop. She hopes he doesn’t have regrets. 

Maya sounds sad for him. He doesn’t want that. He doesn’t feel sad about it. Not anymore anyway. 

He takes a bite of his ice cream, crunches the jimmies. 

“It’s okay. I mean, yeah, it sucked, but it also helped. It was formative, or whatever. And it made me realize that I didn’t really want that life, anyway. If I had really wanted it, I would’ve kept fighting for it. And I probably wouldn’t have done so much coke just to get through the nights.” 

He doesn’t know how else to bring it up. That he fucked over his body in a way they both always said they hated and would never do. 

It was easier to do it when he was alone and tired and disappointed with his life. He doesn’t ever miss it these days, though. 

Maya feels like her heart drops into her stomach to slosh around with some melted ice cream. The vision of him is cold, standing in dirty club bathrooms waiting to go on at 2am with bandmates he doesn’t like, snorting a line off his hand. She closes her eyes.

“God, sweetheart,” she rasps, clearing the tears out of her throat with a shake of her head. They sting as they threaten to fall. She nourishes her sore throat with another bite of cold ice cream before she speaks again.

“Maybe our experiences weren’t so different,” she admits, lowering her gaze as she remembers her late nights spent on the opposite coast buying Adderall from her bro-y coworkers so she could work until 3 or 4am on an all-too-consistent basis.

His heart breaks at the sound of her voice. He didn’t mean to upset her with any of this. But she asked and he doesn’t want to tell her half-truths anymore. 

“Lu,” he murmurs. He guesses he should’ve known, should’ve put it together, that being a hardworking business woman in Manhattan meant long days followed by longer nights only survived with the help of a stimulant or two. He hates that she got caught up in it too. 

But it’s life, he guesses, and it made them who they are now. 

She lifts her eyes to his, unafraid of his judgement, knowing he won’t put it on her. She smiles weakly. “I guess we can’t harp on this kind of stuff. We did what we felt we had to to survive. And we got ourselves out.”

Shawn scoots his chair around the table towards Maya, plastic legs scratching noisily across the asphalt. He turns it to face her, his knees digging into the arm of her chair. Reaching for her free hand with his, he pulls it into his lap and curls their fingers together. 

“Hey,” he says with a smile, bringing her fingertips to his cold lips, “I’m glad we’re here now. You know?” 

Maya watches with a nearly bursting heart as Shawn pulls himself over to sit closer to her. His lips are soft and cool. She thinks about leaning over to taste them but feels like the moment doesn’t quite call for it. Instead she thumbs at the dimple in his chin and smiles a little wider.

“You have no idea how glad I am that we’re here now,” she replies almost breathlessly. 

She thinks he probably does have some idea, especially given how rough his years apart from her are starting to sound. They’ve been through the wringer. They both deserve to relax and take it in a little. The fact that they get to do it together is something Maya never imagined could happen again. She could let herself get swept up in it but wants to keep things fun and maybe a little lighter on this date because first dates are supposed to be fun.

Maya swipes her tongue around her dripping cone and traces her finger against his jaw affectionately. “Would you let me draw you again soon?”

He’s got an overwhelming urge to kiss her, but he resists by licking at his dripping ice cream instead. He’s making himself wait. He wants to deserve it. He wants her to remember the moment crisply, with the same sort of clarity you remember something that truly affected you, a sharp contrast to everything else because of how it changed your life. 

Maybe he has romantically high hopes for this kiss.

Some habits die hard. 

Shawn’s eyes fall shut as she traces the angle of his jaw. He sucks in a soft breath. 

“You can draw me anytime you want, Lemon,” he murmurs, gazing at her from under hooded as his fingers curl around her wrist. 

“I always thought I was a pretty good model,” he bites into his cone, giving Maya a crooked smile as he chews. 

Maya goes pink. He reacts so well when she touches him, always. She leaves her warm fingers around the side of his neck, stroking gently at his curls. She loves the tiny ones that sit around his ears.

“You’ve always been my favorite model,” she promises, nodding firmly, “I have sketchpads full of proof of that.”

She smiles and bites into her own cone, looking off to reminisce. “I actually have all my old sketchbooks. If you go back far enough in my catalog, you can find the week we met. I think I started drawing you only a couple days after. I wasn’t very good then. I could never get your eyes right.”

He feels himself blushing. He misses the weight of her gaze on him as she sketched. He misses the way she would nudge his face with her fingertips to make sure his features caught the light just right. He misses how her cheeks would turn pink each time she finished a drawing with which she was particularly pleased.

He misses the privilege of admiring her many sketches, of him or otherwise, most of all. 

“I always liked the way you did my eyes,” he hums, crunching into more of his cone. 

“You made this one less droopy,” he says with a grin, pushing at the corner of his lazy eye. He laughs, “I really was so self-conscious about that back then.”

Maya finally lets him go with a swipe of her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. She takes another bite of ice cream and giggles with him, catching his fingers from his face to squeeze them in hers.

“I always loved it,” she tells him honestly after swallowing, “When you got tired, you looked like a puppy.”

She thinks of the nights they stayed up pretending to study in between long, languid kisses. They kissed like they had their entire lives to do it. They kissed arrogantly back then, like kids.

Maya takes the final bite, finishing off her cone. She clears her throat and looks over at him. “Don’t look much like a puppy now, though. All grown up.”

She can feel the heat in her face when she says it despite the frozen treat. She’s… hitting on him. It’s kinda funny.

Shawn is busy licking the remains of his ice cream from his fingers when he’s distracted by the raspy tone of her voice. He releases his thumb from his mouth with a wet pop and quirks a brow at her. 

“Are you saying I’m not cute anymore?” 

He pouts, but he can’t hold it for long and cracks a smile after a moment. 

She swallows roughly and shakes out a laugh, then bashfully looks away. He knows how cute he is. He also knows how absolutely heart-stoppingly gorgeous he is. He wears it well, warmly and modestly, but he knows it’s there. He wears the confidence better these days than he ever used to. 

After a moment, Shawn pushes his chair backward to give himself room to cross his ankle over his knee and fold his arms behind his head. He leans back and looks at Maya. 

Maya watches as he relaxes into his chair. She follows suit, crossing her long legs and leaning forward to look up at the stars. 

“Can I tell you something? I, uh, I felt weird saying anything before, but I want you to know. I want you to know everything now, so.” 

She blinks quickly, a little startled. She wets her lips and glances back at him. “You can tell me anything. Of course.”

She really believes that now. 

Shawn bites at his lip, cheek bulging with a slight smile before he continues. 

“So, you know that guitar I showed you? The first one I ever made?” His fingers scratch over his thigh, nails picking at his jeans. He takes a breath, wets his lips.

“I named it after you,” he finally says with a soft laugh, shaking his head a little. “Lulu. Guess I was still kinda lovesick.” 

Maya was preparing herself for something worse, something harsher. He pleasantly surprises her. A bubble of a giggle rises in her throat. She’s delighted and totally honored. She goes a warm pink color and settles further into her chair, slumping down as she beams at him.

“Really? Wow. I’ll take a guitar named after me over a ship any day of the week.”

She laughs again, blushing furiously, raking a hand through her hair, “Especially if you made it.” 

“Could name a whole series after you, sugar,” he murmurs, sitting forward and leaning his forearms on his knees. He tilts his head. “Would you let me do that?” 

He’s been thinking about it for a while, now. Starting a proper series with a name, instead of just fucking around with whatever he wants, or only refurbishing. The money’s better with refurb. But that’s why he saves, and that’s why he keeps strong relationships with his elite clients. Elite is classiest way to say famous, he’s pretty sure. 

Anyway, he thinks naming a series after Maya would be. Nice. Maybe a little cheesy, and sentimental. But he’s a little cheesy and a little sentimental. He can’t help it, not with her. 

Maya is flooded with pride. She aims her gaze down at her feet and takes a deep breath.

“I’d love that. When you decide I’ve earned it.”

She doesn’t want them getting ahead of themselves again. It’s so easy for them to do. But she wants stable, she wants a foundation, not building blocks just tall enough for them to keep climbing with nothing to hold onto. 

But someday? Yeah. She’d like that.

She’s right about earning it. Not that he doesn’t think she already deserves it, because she does. He’s the one who needs to earn it. And they need to earn it together, too. 

He stands up, tucks the lion under his arm and reaches for Maya’s hand when she stands, too. His thumb brushes her knuckles while he leads her toward the parking lot. 

“Do you wanna, I dunno, drive around and talk a little? I don’t think I’m too sick of you yet,” he asks with a wry grin, glancing down at her as he gives her fingers a gentle squeeze. 

She’s relieved when he mentions an alternative to taking her straight home. She doesn’t want this night over yet. Because he’s not coming home with her. 

“That sounds perfect,” she assures him, walking a tad closer to his side, “We should do Shore Drive and check out all those crazy massive mansions on the north end of the beach.”

Shawn grins. “You love Shore Drive. Why not get a fancy mansion yourself?” 

He’s teasing, really. He loves her cottage. It’s comfy and cozy and so perfect for Maya. He knows why she picked it. 

Maya grins and shrugs. “I do love Shore Drive but I just like to gawk at it, I wouldn’t actually live there. When I was dreaming of Avila I always pictured myself in one of the old historical cottages in my neighborhood.”

She also pictured herself with him if she’s being honest, but that kind of admission doesn’t go well with the “take it slow” plan they’ve devised.

Shawn leads her to the passenger’s side, opens the door and helps her inside with a gentle smile. She’s got her bare feet kicked up onto the dashboard by the time he’s tucked the lion away and slid into the driver’s seat. 

Maya makes herself comfortable in her seat. He looks happy to see her there. She watches him carefully stow the lion in the backseat and start the engine. The radio turns on like it always does in his car to a station playing some mellow John Mayer. She smiles and turns it down just slightly so they can talk over it.

“So I’m taking the long way, right?” he asks, looking at her as he slows to a stop at the red light leading out of the parking lot. 

Maya smiles again, softer this time. She burrows down into her seat that smells like him. “Yes please. I like taking the long way with you.”

The fastest way to Shore Drive is to the right, so when the light turns green, Shawn hooks left. He flicks the button above the rear view mirror and the sunroof glides back. He rolls down the windows and hangs an arm outside as they whip down the beachside highway. 

Maya purrs with the wind in her hair. Usually she gets sleepy sitting in the car but she’s strangely energized tonight. She watches moonlight bounce off the ocean with a sparkle in her eye. She takes a deep sea-salted breath and releases it slowly through her nose.

“So,” Shawn starts after a moment of driving in silence. “I wanna know. You said— before-- you said I don’t know you anymore. And I want to. So let’s, I dunno, let’s play twenty questions or something.” 

He glances over at her, feeling his cheeks twinge. He smiles, then looks back out to the road. 

“I mean, if you want.” 

Maya nods at his idea, considering. She has so many questions floating around in varying degrees of heaviness, she’s not sure where to go first. She bobs her head back and forth, considering.

“Hmm… ok… how about… other than blow, what are your chosen vices of the last 12 years?”

She says it with a smile so he knows he’s safe with her.

“Oooh,” he purrs, smirking slight as he glances at her. “Only on question one and already getting gritty?” 

He chuckles, then sinks his teeth into his lower lip while he thinks. He racks his brain for a good, not-boring answer as he chews at his lip, then soothes it with his tongue. 

“Hm,” he murmurs, shrugging a little. “Besides weed and Wednesday night s’mores? I guess those M&M cookies from Panera. Good snack when I’m at the shop late.” 

He glances at Maya, corner of his mouth tugged into a frown. “That’s super fucking boring. I’m really boring compared to like, Manhattan people.” 

Maya tosses her head back, laughing. “M&M cookies! Those are the best. The chocolate chip ones have nothing on the M&M cookies.”

She wonders if she could pull off baking him a batch herself. Probably not. She might try anyway. He’d probably like that. 

“So what about you?”

Maya smiles conspiratorially. “I used to have an online shopping problem. I would order so much stupid shit in the middle of the night. Once I ordered a tangerine orange Kitchenaid mixer.”

Shawn thinks if he were as well off as Maya, he’d have an online shopping problem too. He laughs, shaking his head. Pressing his palm into the steering wheel, he carefully banks the Jeep around a twisting curve in the road. 

“Can you even bake? Is that a secret skill you learned?” 

Maya exhales so her lips flap comically. She shakes her head and looks down at their twining fingers. She smiles.

“I definitely can’t bake. I can sometimes make chocolate chip cookies without burning them. Like, sometimes.”

She chuckles at herself. She thinks of all the Amazon returns she made in the cold light of day with a blush in her cheeks for even ordering it in the first place.

“Ok. Your turn.” She turns her head to look out at the water. 

Shawn switches hands on the wheel so he can reach across the console for her. He glides his palm over the back of her hand, slotting their fingers together so the tips of his brush her wrist. 

“Mm. New question for you. What’s your go to comfort movie? You—“ he clears his throat, “You said I don’t know your favorite movies, but I used to. So—“ his lips twitch, “—I wanna know again.” 

Maya’s very sure Shawn could still reel off an impressive list of all her favorite movies, even now, even after all this time. She vaguely recalls crying at him the other day about having go-to movies she’d put to calm her down and help her fall asleep when she was in the thick of the stress at work.

“I mean, I still love all the movies I did. I adopted a couple that used to be what I’d put on to fall asleep. They’re weird choices, actually. One was “The Other Woman” with Leslie Mann and Cameron Diaz. I really liked all their outfits and their houses. The other one was Casablanca.”

She tilts her head back at him with a shy smile. Casablanca was her favorite fantasy, apart from the ending.

Of all the gin joints in all the cities in all the world. Shawn said something like that to her recently, before their blow up. She hasn’t forgotten.

Shawn frowns, foot easing off the gas as they pull onto Shore Drive, slowing down a bit so Maya can admire the mansions. 

“I have a love-hate relationship with Casablanca. I don’t like a sad ending, I guess.” 

Maya nods in understanding. It is a heartbreaking ending. She was usually asleep before it ended, though, mercifully. She thinks she wouldn’t like it as much if she watched the ending regularly. It would hit too close to home.

Maya doesn’t think she’s as interested in the mansions as she expected to be, not with him sitting here, captivating her like he does. She glances over his shoulder at one of her favorite Shore Drive houses and back at him.

The Jeep rolls to a stop when they come to the stop sign at the end of the second block. There’s no one around at the moment, so Shawn looks from the road to Maya, only to find she’s already looking at him. He smiles. 

“Tell me a secret,” he says, dragging his calloused thumb across her knuckles, “Something you haven’t told anyone ever. Even if it’s silly or stupid. Or embarrassing.” 

He grins, quirking a brow. 

Her nose twitches. She strokes her free hand through her hair. What secret could she possibly have to share with him that he doesn’t already know? He used to know everything. What’s left?

Her brows pull together, then apart. She smirks. “This isn’t exactly a secret but I haven’t told anyone I did this, only people in my office know. When I quit my job, I didn’t give notice or anything, I just walked out one day during lunch in my $2000 Gucci suit and took the subway to Central Park. I ate a hot dog. And then I ate another. And then I got a third one and ate it on my way into my boss’s office. I told him I quit, I crumpled up the wax paper and tossed it on his desk. I packed up my office and never went back.”

She smiles warmly. “It’s one of the proudest moments of my life, I think.”

“Holy shit, Lu.” 

He says it before he can stop himself, doesn’t mean to sound as bewildered as he does. He’s not so much surprised by the story as he is impressed. Proud. Thankful she stood up for herself when she needed to. 

He grins, reaches from the steering wheel to cup his other hand around hers, so he’s got her completely encompassed by his broad palms. 

“That’s really fucking awesome. I don’t think I’d have the guts to do that,” he shakes his head, squeezing her hand gently. 

Maya preens at his reaction. She lets him take her hand and gush at her a little. Bubbling under his gaze, she reaches up with her free hand and draws a blunted fingernail against his jaw, admiring the perfect line of it. Her fingers twitch in his for her pencils.

“But, ah, I think you’ve always been braver than me,” his smile softens, and he carefully brings her hand to his mouth, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. He presses a soft kiss to her knuckles, thumb pushing into the middle of her palm. 

“I don’t think that’s true,” she murmurs.

Shawn was brave even when she wasn’t. He got himself to LA even without her as a parachute. When it didn’t go to his plan, he was brave enough to get himself out and start fresh and new where no one knew him. He’s been brave his whole life -- she feels she’s only been brave in the last few months.

His lips are a compliment all their own. She accepts it with an extra pulse of her heart. 

Shawn blushes. The flush starts in the tips of his ears and spreads to his cheeks. No one gets him this bashful anymore. It used to be easy, but the years have hardened him. Now, it’s only Maya. 

He pulls a hand from hers and takes the steering wheel. He starts driving again so he doesn’t kiss her. His Jeep is a dangerous place to kiss. They used to fuck all the time in the Jeep he had in college. This newer model has even more room for them to mess around. 

He doesn’t need the temptation. Go slow. 

Maya inhales as her chest falls back with the gentle lurch of the car. It’s good they’re moving. Moving means not stopping, not crawling into the backseat, not getting carnal at the corner of Shore and Shell. Moving is good. 

“If it’s my turn to ask a question again,” she starts, voice soft and quiet over the lapping of the waves on shore, “What’s the last song you wrote?”

Maya’s question almost makes him choke. The only songs he ever writes anymore are about her. The songwriter part of him feels like a remnant from before, from when he was so in love with her he couldn’t contain it to their relationship, so it poured out of him as music and lyrics. 

It’s a way to cope now.

“I uh,” he laughs, “I wrote a few stanzas on the harp the other day.” 

Safe answer. Neutral. 

But then— 

“I guess that’s not, like, a real song though. The, ah, the last real song I wrote was a few weeks ago? It just kind of came to me at the piano. The music anyway. I’ve been jotting down lyrics all summer.” 

She clears her throat and continues admiring the houses as they pass slowly on the deserted street. She’s glad to hear he’s been writing music even if he gets a little cagey about what kind. She nods like she’s not dying of curiosity. 

“Oh, that’s great! What… um, what’s it called?”

A thinly veiled version of “is it about me?” if Maya’s ever heard one. 

He doesn’t feel like hiding from her anymore. The parts of himself he shared in the beginning of the summer were the easy ones. The ones she already knew. The songs he used to write about her were simple. Juvenile. Important, but he’s outgrown them. 

The ones he writes now cut a little more deeply, in ways he didn’t want her to know about when he was busy acting like they were the same people they’d been in college. 

“Oh, eh, I don’t really have a title yet. That’s always the hardest part for me. But I think, well, it’s definitely about us. About you.” 

He wants to say if that’s okay, but his adult brain reminds him he doesn’t need her permission to write music about things that are important to him. 

Shawn doesn’t hesitate to tell her he’s written about her. She can’t say she’s completely surprised. It’s nice to hear, though. The confirmation from him feels good. He cares enough to write. 

Maya nods. She glances past him at an old Victorian that’s stood the test of time. It’s weatherbeaten and stately and it’s not going anywhere. 

“I think it’s good for us both,” she assures him, “That we’re both re-exploring what we love to do. That we’re working on ourselves that way. And that we’re honest about it.”

She talks about them like they’re a team. That’s really all he’s ever wanted. His heart flutters in his chest. He thinks it’s good, too. 

“It’s not a happy song,” he says, because he can’t stop the honesty now. He wrote it when he still thought she was going back to New York. At the time, he thought it was evidence that he could cope with her leaving. 

Now he thinks it works with the new relationship they’re embarking upon. He can fiddle with a couple of the lyrics, anyway. 

Maya casts her eyes out at the water. She hums. 

“They can’t all be happy songs, I guess.”

She thinks all they can do is hope the rest of their songs will be happy. They deserve that. They both do. 

He glances at her as he turns off of Shore, down a small beach road that will spit them back onto Main Street, eventually. 

“But I could play it for you sometime. If you want.” 

She feels his eyes again. She looks back with a quiet smile. “I’d love to hear it when you’re ready for me.”

Coming back to Main Street means the end of the night. Maya sighs and hopes it doesn’t come off too dramatic. But the truth is, this was a hell of a first date. She feels better with him now than she has all summer. Cards are on the table. 

As he pulls into her driveway to drop her off, she grins. 

“You still owe me about 16 more questions,” she laughs, “Rain check?”

Shawn feels like he is the embodiment of the sigh she releases. He doesn’t want the night to be over either. He goes as slowly as he can on the way back to her house, squeezing her hand every now and then. 

He throws the Jeep in park and lets his head fall back against the seat. He smiles. 

“What if you ask me one more while I walk you to your door?” 

He lifts his brows, then gets out of the car and jogs to the passenger’s side so he can open the door for Maya. 

Maya fights the embarrassed chuckling that threatens when he scampers around the side of the car to help her out. She takes his hand and steps out, her sandals hooked in her fingers. She keeps hold of his hand and walks slowly up the cobblestone path to her front door. She glances over at her porch swing and thinks maybe she’ll come out here after she gets ready for bed with her sketchpad, something to take the edge off before she sleeps.

In the warm lamplight, Shawn glows. She takes his other hand and steps a little closer to him. She swallows any nerves left and fixes her eyes on his.

“Ok, last question. How do you feel about how tonight went?”

Shawn drops one of her hands in favor of cupping her neck, thumb stroking across her jaw. He smiles, hanging his head a bit closer to her. 

“I feel like it was the best first date I’ve ever been on.” It sounds like a line, but he says it as earnestly as he can and hopes she’ll know he means it. 

His gaze drops to her lips, but only briefly. He looks up, wetting his own lips and pressing them together. 

His voice is raspy when next he speaks. 

“I also feel like I’d really like to kiss you now,” he clears his throat. Then, gently, “Please.” 

Maya’s eyes flutter. His thumb is hot and rough on her skin. When he’s standing this close, she can smell his cologne, shampoo, body wash, him. She fights a pathetic whimper rising in her throat.

It’s just a kiss. It’s just a kiss.

He looks down at her lips and she nearly lunges for him. Apparently it’s a kiss she’s fucking starving for. 

She exhales slowly trying not to pant at him.

“Yeah. Yes. Mhmm. Please. Kiss me.”

Kissing Maya is so easy and so hard at the same time. Easy, because they’ve done it so much, hard, because they’ve never done it like this. He’s never had to walk away from her after. 

He presses his thumb to the apple of her cheek as he brings his lips to hers, his chest deflating with a soft murmur as he releases a breath he’s been holding all night. He sighs into her mouth, stepping closer to her until their bodies are flush together. 

It’s a dangerous game, sipping at her lips and holding her close while not letting it go any further. He’s delicate with her, doesn’t try to coax her mouth open with his tongue, even though the instinct is there, twitching in his fingers. 

He resists. It’ll be worth it, in the long run. 

The kiss is somewhat chaste but it doesn’t feel unsatisfying, exactly. Just cautious. It’s warm and soft and so tender. 

She wants to suck on his lower lip or tangle her fingers in his hair. She wants to let them in so they can stumble up the stairs, shedding clothes as they go. She doesn’t. She just kisses him back, inhaling as he sighs. 

They separate gently. She licks her lips, like she just wants to taste him again. 

She’s panting, not because the kiss was so hot, but from the strength it takes to control herself. 

“So uhm,” she murmurs, “Do you want to… I dunno, hang out again tomorrow?”

Is that too soon? What does taking it slow feel like?

Shawn has to take two full steps away from her to make sure he doesn’t stumble inside after her, like he’s done so many times this summer. 

Go slow. 

She sounds unsure of her offer, but he wants it. He grins. 

“Yes-- Yeah. Yeah, totally. I do want that. I fuckin’--” he laughs, shaking his head and scrubbing a hand through his hair as he looks at his feet, “I miss you already.”

Maya chuckles back and it sounds a little raspy. 

“Yeah,” she replies, “I know what you mean.”

She doesn’t know exactly if he’s referring to missing her even though she’s still standing with her hand on the doorknob or missing her because if it were a few weeks ago, he’d probably be inside her at this time of the night. 

Either way, she feels it too. 

With one last slightly shaky but still hopeful smile, she lets herself inside to dig out a sketchbook. 

----------

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[the-angriestpineapple]

brewed & beards - ch 6

Kirishima tries to help Uraraka train when she asks, and he gets over his jealousy enough to actually become her friend.

Chapter Six - Genuine Kindness

One of Kiri’s favorite classes this semester is his nutrition class. He hadn’t been wrong when he told Uraraka the other night at pizza that nutrition was really important to him, and learning the science behind what made good food choices was fascinating. He even really liked his teacher, Professor Taishiro. The man seemed to always be eating something in class, jovially telling his students on the first day that as long as they cleaned up after themselves, he didn’t mind if they did the same.

Professor Taishiro was talking about macros and how they transfer into energy, and Kiri was totally listening, absolutely. He was only vaguely thinking about his resolution that he is unable to hate Uraraka. His mind wasn’t swarming with the petty part of him that still wants to hate her, but at the same time Bakugou has been nothing but rude to him and honestly he even seems pretty indifferent to his own girlfriend, would he really want that kind of partner even if he IS jaw-droppingly beautiful? It’s a stupid thought either way. Uraraka is a small, soft girl and I’m a big, muscular boy –

“Kirishima?”

Kiri starts and stares into the concerned face of his professor. A quick glance around the room tells him that he’s been sitting here mumbling to himself for long enough for class to have ended. Kiri swipes a hand down his face, wincing apologetically at the teacher. He’d woken up late today, very unlike himself, and barely had time to throw clothes on and make it to class on time. His red spikes take three minutes to set, not even counting the time it took him to sculpt them, so his hair was uncharacteristically limp around his shoulders.

Taishiro frowned at the boy. “Have you been feeling well, Kirishima? I’ve noticed that you were very distracted today. We do have a school nurse on campus if something is the matter.” Kiri’s cheeks flushed and he shook his head a littler harder than necessary.

“Ah, no, I apologize Professor. I’ve been distracted with some, uh, relationship troubles.”

Taishiro’s frowned deepened and he perched on the desk directly to Kiri’s left. “Relationship troubles. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life, you’re an adult now. But I would like for you to keep in mind that you are here at school to learn, and to build a foundation for a career. A very promising career, if my impression of you is correct.” He smiles kindly, and Kiri feels ashamed at how much he’s been letting this situation get to him. He makes a mental note to apologize to his other professors and to Mirio as well.

“I am so deeply sorry, Professor Taishiro.” Kiri immediately stands and deeply bows. “I promise to focus on school work from now on. You’re right, I shouldn’t be letting other people affect my future like this.”

His teacher chuckles and gently pushes him to stand upright. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Kirishima, I just want to make sure you know what is important. Now head on out, and have a good rest of your day.”

“Thank you, sir.” Kiri gathered up his books and gives another short, quick bow before heading off to an anatomy class. He really needed to get himself together.

---

He spends his lunch that day in the dorm room, eating some leftover rice with canned tuna. It’s a simple meal but a very comforting one for him, and he doesn’t mind the quietness of being in the dorm without Hanta and Denki. He loves them dearly, he truly does, but sometimes a guy just needs some peace and quiet.

He blinks as his phone goes off and he looks over to it. A text from an unknown number? He balances his bowl and chopsticks in one hand as he reaches to his phone to swipe the message open.

???: Hey Kirishima! It’s Uraraka, I meant to get your number when we were all out the other night but I forgot. Mina gave it to me, I hope you don’t mind! ;^^

Kiri didn’t mind in the least, really, he was totally okay with his friends being able to reach him if they needed to. And he considered Uraraka his friend now. He quickly typed back that it was absolutely fine with a smiley face.

Uraraka: Great! So I wanted to ask if you have time to help spot me at the gym tonight – Bakugou’s working and I’d really like to get some training in. If you aren’t busy?

Kiri smiled softly. He really had to admire her drive, it was inspiring. He said that he’d be at work tonight so he’d be able to help her train, no problem. She sent back a bunch of hearts and fist emojis, and it actually made Kirishima laugh. He was actually headed there once he finished lunch, so he let her know that and quickly shoveled the rest of his rice and tuna into his mouth. He brought the bowl to the bathroom to rinse it quickly – he didn’t want the room smelling like tuna – and then packed up his gym stuff to head out. A text from Uraraka said that she also had no classes this afternoon so she could meet him there.

The gym Kirishima worked at was only a few blocks over from campus. He actually had to pass the coffee shop to get there, and he couldn’t help peering in as he quickly walked by. He didn’t see Bakugou but he did see Mina and Jirou laughing about something behind the counter. He smiled. It always made his heart warm to see his friends happy.

He arrived at the gym and waved to the employee behind the counter (it wasn’t Ojiro today) and headed to the locker rooms. He dropped his stuff in an open locker and changed from his walking shoes to his gym sneakers, already wearing what he planned to work out in. He paused in front of the mirror as he headed out and looked at himself. He wore a tight fitted tank, loose gym shorts, and his hair was done up in his trademark spiked style. He grinned at himself, his mouth full of teeth that he’d always felt were slightly sharper than normal, and flexed. He was strong and he looked good, any bro would be lucky to have him! He gave his reflection a confident nod and strolled out into the main area of the gym.

“Oh, Kirishima! Hi!” He looked over to the weight area where Uraraka was already, waving a hand frantically and beaming. He returned her grin and jogged the rest of the way to her.

“You ready to get pumped, Uraraka?” He struck a pose, his fists clenched.

“Yeah!” She punched the air, reminding him a little of Mina. She giggled. “I brought along the plan that the trainer here gave me – that Bakugou wrote all over and changed – but I wanted to see what you think too.” He accepted the paper from her and skimmed it, eyes glancing over angry red scratch-outs accompanied by blurbs that said things like ‘waste of time, do this instead’ and other completely different instructions on there. Kiri winced.

“Well, it’s not that Bakugou’s suggestions are bad…” Uraraka’s face fell a little. “The just seem to be geared toward someone who is built more like him. Or me. Not so much like you. Actually, what the trainer suggested you start with is more on point for what you could be doing. How much can you bench press?”

Uraraka’s frown turned into a proud smile. “Fifty pounds so far! I want to be able to bench, like a hundred by the end of the school year.” She punched into the air again and Kiri grinned.

“Hell yeah, we can totally aim for that! Here’s what I think you should do. Lemme get some paper and a pen.” He went to the desk to grab them, and then he and Uraraka crowded around the sheets. He carefully re-wrote what the personal trainer initially put down for the most part, altering it slightly to include the lightest of Bakugou’s suggestions and a few suggestions of his own. No reason to completely piss the blonde off when he sees his girlfriend’s altered training plan. “Do you have a nutrition plan too? I know you said that you don’t really cook.”

Uraraka shook her head. “Um, not really. I basically either eat whatever is in the cafeteria or whatever Bakugou makes. He makes really good meals though, and rarely ever eats anything unhealthy.” Kirishima nodded, ignoring his heart flipping over Bakugou being health conscious. What a stupid thing to be attracted to.

“Well I imagine whatever Bakugou makes you is probably fine. As for the cafeteria…” He started writing down food pairings, Uraraka focused completely on what he was saying, and his professor’s words from this morning rang in his head about how he could have a very successful career of this. When he handed her the completed paper, she folded it gently like it was precious and tucked it into her bag. It gave Kiri a sharp spike of pride. “Alright! Let’s see how you handle that fifty pounds on the bench and see if we can up it a little today.”

“Sure thing! Let’s go!” Uraraka jumped excitedly and hopped over to a weight lifting bench, immediately going to start putting weights on the bar. Kiri couldn’t help but feel like he was definitely in the right career.

That feeling floated him through the rest of Uraraka’s training (they got her up to 55 pounds) and home to the dorm. He walked in to Mina regailing Denki and Hanta about how Bakugou had almost blown up their chemistry lab that day. It makes him laugh, and the sadness is less than he expected. He knows that he is strong enough for this to pass.

#bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kaminari denki #ashido mina #sero hanta #ojiro mashirao #hagakure tooru #taishiro toyomitsu #my hero academia #my hero academia au #college au #uraraka ochaco #bakugou x ochaco #eventual kiribaku #kiribaku #slow burn #bakugou x kirishima #kirishima x bakugou imagine

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

When You Least Expect It, Part Fourteen

Jensen x Musician!Reader

Masterlist - Contains Chapter Links & Wardrobe Collages

A/N: This is a slow burn fic that I have been working on for a while. Its a story I wrote for myself and just wanted to share with everyone. Yes, the “Dee” in the story is who you think, but there is no intended hate on her or their actual marriage. It is a work of fiction, that is all. There is also a playlist to go along with the series.

Spotify Playlist:  

Chapter Summary: Jensen takes Y/N away on a surprise vacation.

Chaper Warnings: Floof, Smut, NSFW 18+ Only

WC: 6.9K

Series Beta’d by the beautiful @closetspngirl

“I can’t believe you did this,” Y/N breathed, still awed by the lengths Jensen went to for their little getaway. “For three days, you sure did go through a lot of trouble.”

“Three days is more than enough to be sure you have a good time. But you have to promise me, no work, no business of any kind… and definitely, no calls from Robert.” Jensen raised his brow at her, and she playfully rolled her eyes. 

“Jealous?”

“No,” Jensen scoffed and waved her off as if she was being ridiculous. “Well… a little. But! Not for the reasons you think.”

“Oh come now, you couldn’t possibly be jealous of that sweet, blue-eyed boy, could you?”

Jensen rolled his eyes dramatically and sighed, causing her to laugh out loud in the back of the town car that carried them from the airport to their final destination. As if on queue, her phone rang from somewhere in her bag on the floor. She bent to retrieve it, and Jensen yanked her back up towards the seat and sent her crashing into him. Y/N laughed harder and Jensen wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close to him.

“What did I just say, Trix? Seriously, woman!”

“Okay, okay!” she said, tapping his arm to release her. “I give! I will turn the damn thing off for a few days, alright? I just want to check to make sure it wasn’t Briana or Mama, and I cross my heart I will leave it off unless we are taking pictures.”

“Pictures? Pictures of what?”

“Us, dummy.”

“Oh no… no pictures allowed,” he shook his head, his mouth engaged in a frown of disapproval.

“But it’s our first real trip together, how can we skip pictures?” she whined, in the way that he knew she was being purposefully pouty. 

“Because,” he started, then leaned in close, pinching her chin gently between his fingers and smiled before kissing her lips softly. “I don’t plan on doing much with clothes on, and we don’t need photographic evidence of that.”

Y/N’s demeanor changed immediately; gone was the pouty, exasperated girl and in her place a new side of her that Jensen had only caught glimpses of. 

“But...” she said, placing her hand on his knee, “the pictures and videos will make it fun for when we get home to reminisce with.” She wiggled her eyebrows as her hand traveled up his thigh, sliding between his shorts and his skin, making its way towards his boxers. Y/N leaned over to kiss his neck as the tips of her fingers found the soft, pliable flesh of his balls beneath the cotton hem. 

Jensen inhaled sharply when she touched him, his eyes immediately going towards the front seat and the driver who was there, thankfully not paying attention, then to her, and the devilish grin spread across her glistening lips. 

“What got into you?” he asked lowly, his nearly euphoric smile was tempered but visible. “Not that I mind, but…”

She shrugged. “I feel like maybe I haven’t properly thanked you for the vacation--”

“We just got here.”

“So?” she shrugged one shoulder, causing the strap of her bra to slide out from under her tank top and down her arm. Jensen eyed the lines of her shoulder up towards her neck then down her chest to the more visible curves of her breasts and desperately wanted them to be in their room already. There was still an hour to go before they reached the Jersey shore, and even longer until they would be alone in their suite at The Grenville. 

“So, maybe when we get there the first thing we do is make sure our bed is comfortable… and then, then we can go do whatever it is you want.”

“What if all I want to do, is you?”

“Jesus… where have you been all my life?” he asked, his green eyes settling on hers and admiring the sheen of defiance he found in them.

“Waiting for you to come and find me,” she replied softly and kissed his lips. “But, you’re right. We’ll be there shortly. What’s an hour?”

 They barely made it into their room at Leo’s best bed and breakfast before their clothes flew off in every direction. Jensen made quick work of taking her to bed, and Y/N certainly didn’t argue. They stayed there for several hours, sweaty and spent, yet continued to find ways to reinvigorate the other for another round. Before they realized it, the room had grown dark from the sun setting across the bay and if not for the deep rumble of Jensen’s stomach, they may not have even noticed that. 

“Food… sustenance... Trix, please. While I am loving this new side of you--”

“New? Who said it was new?” she asked, sitting up in bed and pulling the thin cotton sheet up to cover her breasts. “This is always been me, Jay. It’s just not a side I’ve shared with many people.”

Jensen considered what she said for a moment, and smiled ruefully. “What about Robert?”

She rolled her eyes so hard, she purposefully fell over sideways to exaggerate how ridiculous he was being. “You’re dumb.”

“Maybe, but I’m your dummy,” he teased, making her smile and snuggle into him despite the growing warmth of the room. “What do you say we get dressed, and you take me down to that boardwalk of yours. I’ve been dreaming of a sausage sandwich and a funnel cake for months now.”

“Alright then,” she said and leaned herself on one elbow so she was hovering over him. “Get dressed cowboy, let’s go walk the boards.”

Jensen barely had a foot on the pavement before he inhaled the delicious aromas of the boardwalk. The mix of fragrant foods made his stomach growl fiercely, and his head was swirling with all the choices that were laid out before him. On the short drive down the strip from where The Grenville lived in a quiet, less populated area of town to the boardwalk proper, Jensen talked endlessly about all of the choices they had to pick from. 

Y/N listened and chuckled to herself as he went through all the cuisine he had tried that on the trip out last autumn. Funnel cake, sausage and peppers, pizza, fried Oreos, zeppoles, saltwater taffy, burgers, and thick-cut steak fries, not to mention the two-story Mexican restaurant with rooftop dining that offered a sensational look over the ocean.

“While it’s not humanly possible to eat all of those things in one night, I am sure that there is plenty of time to fit it all in over the course of three days,” she teased, ignoring the huff of frustration he expelled. 

“I know, but where the hell do you even start?”

“Midway. I need a sausage sandwich. Finger’s crossed, Javier is there tonight,” she sighed and crossed fingers on both hands. 

Now, as they walked the short distance from the parking lot, to where the ramp led to the boards, he was squeezing her hand and nearly yanking her up the planks and straight towards the Midway Steakhouse. 

“Javier!” Y/N exclaimed as they reached the counter of the booth. “How’s it going, my friend?”

“Y/N! You’re back! Didn’t think we’d see you back here this summer,” Javier beamed and leaned over the line to throw a quick peck on her cheek. “Festival’s still a go, right?”

“Oh, absolutely. Jensen and I are just here on a little getaway. Thought I would show him how Seaside does summer. How’s business?”

“Booming, chica. It’s booming, big time! Miguel, he’s been so happy lately, I don’t even know if that’s really my brother!”

Y/N laughed and searched the faces of the rest of the crew behind the line. “Where is the ole meanie, anyway? I haven’t seen him in forever.”

“Oh, it’s his night off. Lucky shit. Him and his girl are down in AC.”

“Awesome! So does that mean you’ll throw me some extra cheese on those fries?”

“Girl, you know I will,” Javier winked flirtatiously, then finally noticed Jensen standing beside her. “Hey man, how’s it going?”

“Great,” he replied through gritted teeth, unsure he liked how Javier was eyeing up his girl. 

“What can I get you guys, besides cheese fries?”

“Two sausage sandwiches with everything, please, dear. And throw in some of the poppers, too.”

“Damn, Y/N. This boy feeding you?”

“He is,” she said and wrapped an arm tightly around his waist. “But he also helps me work up an appetite.”

Jensen smiled wide, loving how she seemed so open and free with him and making him realize it didn’t matter how anyone looked at her; she was with him and that’s what was important. He bent down and kissed her, then looked back to Javier who was watching with a bit of surprise in his expression.

“Well alright,” he said finally and called back the order to the line cooks in Spanish. “Give me a few minutes, guys, it will be right out.”

Y/N and Jensen moved around to the side of the stand and watched the guys to go work on their order. After a minute, she turned to look out over the rest of the boardwalk and leaned against the edge, crossing her arms loosely over her chest. 

“So, whatcha think? Looks a lot different from when you were here last Fall, huh?”

“It’s amazing how this place comes alive,” he mused, taking in the sights and sounds all around him; bells and whistles from the arcades and games were ringing, laughter and cries from families passing by and underneath it all was the crashing of the ocean waves. “I can see why you love it here so much.”

“I mean, there are downsides, don’t get me wrong. But this will always be home,” she said softly, lost in a sea of memories just as big as the one that reflected back the light of the rising moon off to her right.

Jensen slipped an arm around her shoulders and gently guided her closer. She rested her head against him and despite the lively chaos around them, Y/N felt more at peace at that moment than she had in what felt like forever. 

Minutes later, Javier was calling her name and passing their food across the backside of the booth. 

“They had to clear the tables and chairs out for the summer, you know, but Ricky is managing over at Spicy’s tonight, I’m sure he’d letcha take the food upstairs and sit up on the roof, especially if you ordered a pitcher of margaritas. Slow times for them lately, with the new bars up on the north end.”

“Ricky?” Jensen asked, interrupting, knowing the name was familiar but having trouble placing it.

“Yeah, you met him when you came to the Bamboo for rehearsals. Remember?”

“God, yeah,” he laughed. “That feels like a million years ago.”

“He’s over there tonight. I have no doubt he’d love to see you,” Javier added, before quickly turning to yell something to the line cooks on the other side of the booth.

“Well then, I think that’s gonna be our plan,” she winked and took the bag of wrapped delicacies from him once he turned back around. “Thanks a million, Javier. What do we owe you?”

“Please,” he said and waved Jensen off as he went to reach for his wallet. “It’s on me. A welcome home dinner, mi amor. Just promise to stop by again before you leave town. Ok?”

“Absolutely,” she beamed and this time it was her turn to lean over the counter and kiss the big man’s cheek. “Thanks for this! Been looking forward to it for months!”

Looping her arm through Jensen’s, Y/N turned them from the Midway and started walking towards Spicy’s. Despite Javier’s claim of tough times, the main floor of the restaurant was full of patrons waiting--in some places three deep--round the large, mahogany bar. Not to mention a small bunch of people near the hostess stand waiting for a table to open up.

Ricky spotted Y/N first, but she saw him almost immediately after, then made her way through the crowd towards her old friend. 

“What on Earth are you doing here?!” he asked, a smile beaming from ear to ear. “Why didn’t you call? I would have saved you the best table!”

“Spur of the moment trip,” she shrugged and looked up to Jensen. “This one thought we needed an impromptu trip home.”

“On Labor Day weekend? Is he insane or just stupid?” Ricky asked, giving Jensen a curious glance but unable to keep the impish smile from appear from under his mutton chop mustache. 

“He just wanted the full Seaside experience, holiday weekend and all.”

Ricky nodded. “So, insane. I gotcha.”

“Any chance we could take these upstairs and snag a table somewhere?” she asked, holding up the bag. “I promise to order at least a pitcher or two of your top-shelf margaritas…”

Ricky sighed and looked at the smattering of people waiting for tables. He rolled his eyes dramatically. “I suppose, for you, I could make an exception. But! You have to promise me you’ll talk to Mama for me. She’s being a tyrant about rehearsals for this fancy festival y’all got going on. Woman is driving me mad.”

Ricky turned and nodded for them to follow as he lead them up the wide staircase that led to the restaurant’s rooftop seating but continued his rant against the matriarch of The Corsettes. 

“She’s been crazy, Y/N. I mean, you know how she gets! She’s so intent on perfection for this show in a few weeks. It’s honestly exhausting.”

“Yes,” she replied, understanding where he was coming from and how her friend could be. “I will call her and talk to her about not cracking the whip too hard.”

“Thank you. I know if anyone can get through to her, it’s you. Come on, I got the perfect out of the way place for you guys to sit.”

When they reached the top, Jensen paused for a moment to take in the view. The lighting was just enough to guide people and servers to the tables, but it didn’t take away from the beauty that he saw laid out before him. The full, pink moon hung low over the ocean, casting an expansive reflection on the slowly rolling waves. Off to the left, the glow of the rides on the pier were flashing with rainbow-colored lights, bouncing off the wispy clouds and spray against the pilings, while the screams and laughter of their riders were muffled in the distance. 

“Jay, you coming?” Y/N called out, pulling him from the mesmerizing view. 

He met her at the table and pulled out her chair for her, then sat down across from her. Before excusing himself, Ricky promised to have a server come by to bring whatever else they needed, including silverware, plates, napkins, and drinks. Once he had left, Y/N dug into the bag and pulled out all of the neatly wrapped food Javier had sent them off with. 

Jensen watched her as she set everything out, carefully opening each sandwich, then the fries and cheese. Y/N was completely in her element, and he loved seeing how she interacted with these people she’d known for a good portion of her life. From the moment they stepped foot in the vicinity of Seaside, that spark of life immediately reignited in her eyes. Maybe it was the salt in the air or the power of the funnel cake, but it was clear to Jensen that Y/N belonged there. Even if she didn’t currently reside within the town proper, this visit would surely replenish the spirit of the town that burned brightly inside her that made him sit up and take notice in the first place.

She must have felt him watching because she looked up just as she went to lick a dollop of cheese that had fallen on her thumb. Y/N chuckled, as her thumb left her mouth with an audible pop. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said absently and looked down at his food; his stomach rumbling to life again with the anticipation of tasting the greasy mess in front of him.

“Ooookay,” she replied, shaking her head and reaching for a thickly cut potato wedge that was oozing with bright orange cheese. “Oh my God, these are so bad for you…” Y/N shook her head in disgust, but it didn’t stop her from enjoying every last bite. 

“Don’t worry, I am sure we will work all this off later,” he teased, then picked up half of the overstuffed sausage and pepper sandwich. Jensen sighed with happiness as he sat back, savoring every second it took him to chew and swallow. “I know I said it before, but this is downright sinful. How do I convince them to permanently open one of these places in Austin?”

“It’ll never happen, Miguel will never, ever leave Seaside.” 

The waitress arrived, bringing the pitcher, two glasses and a variety of chips, salsas, napkins, and utensils. When she was gone again, Jensen quickly wiped his mouth and then poured them each a drink. He raised his glass, and Y/N followed, lightly touched the lip of her salted rim to his. 

“What should we toast to?” she asked softly. 

“To… a damn good time this weekend. Because honestly, we deserve it,” Jensen said, clinking his glass to hers. 

“Yes, I second that!” She laughed before taking a long sip from her glass then placed it back down on the table. 

“So, after we stuff our faces, what’s next?” Jensen asked before taking another monster-sized bite of his sandwich. 

“Games… arcade for sure. Maybe a few rides? That depends on how you feel about an hour from now,” she laughed and nodded towards the food. “But…” she started, then paused to take another potato wedge covered in cheese, “I would gladly pass up the rides for a walk on the beach. I love the feeling of the cool night sand squishing between my toes.”

“I promise nothing about rides. Even without stuffing my face full of this disgustingly amazing concoction, I don’t think I could do those.”

“And why not? Chicken?” she asked, challenging him seductively with her expression. Beneath the table, she kicked off her sandal and began to run her foot slowly up his leg. “Not even the Ferris Wheel? Maybe we get stuck at the top. No better way to kill time up there then by making out.”

“You know, sometimes, I think you’re only with me for my body,” Jensen replied sarcastically, feigning offense and taking another bite of his sandwich. 

“Mmhmm, especially after you’ve eaten your body weight in sausage, peppers and cheese fries,” she winked and followed suit by tackling her own sandwich. 

Jensen stopped mid-chew and just stared at her for a minute. “You’re incorrigible.”

“You made me this way.”

He stopped and considered her answer for a moment, then shrugged. “I’m good with that.”

A few margaritas later, most of the sandwiches were gone, as were the wedges and poppers. Both Y/N and Jensen were stuffed to the brim, and the idea of eating anything made them both feel queasy. 

“Maybe rides are out,” she moaned, leaning back in her chair and resting her arm across her stomach. 

“Yeah, I need to move around, but not strapped into some metal death trap that spins at an unGodly mile per hour.”

“Ugh, stop saying the word spinning,” she whined and pushed away the margarita glass. 

Jensen laughed, then moved back from the table and stood up. Just as he reached out a hand to help lift Y/N from the depths of her seat, the waitress came by with the bill for the drinks. After leaving the money, plus a generous tip for the waitress, they made their way back down the stairs and towards the boardwalk. 

Walking for a little while helped both of them feel more comfortable and within a half-hour of leaving Spicy’s, the thought of going on a few rides once again crossed Y/N’s mind. 

“Just one, please?” she asked, but Jensen was being stubborn and shook his head.

“Sorry, Trix. Not gonna happen. You want a stuffed animal? I’ll win you whatever you want--”

“I want… you to go on a ride with me. I promise you, its fuuuun! Yes, it spins, but it stays low to the ground and it plays music. You like music!” she said excitedly, tugging on his wrist trying to plead her case. ���Pleeease?”

Jensen sighed and was about to speak when something behind her caught his eye. 

“Alright, I’ll tell you what… how about a friendly wager? Hm?”

“What kind of wager?” she asked suspiciously.

“Skee ball. Best of three games. If you win, you pick one ride and I go on... no questions, no complaining. If I win…” he trailed off, and couldn’t tell if he was being dramatic or genuinely trying to think of what to ask for in return for winning. 

“Well? What is it that you want?”

Jensen’s face slowly broke out into a devious grin, one that bared his teeth and enhanced the gathering of crinkles around his brilliant green eyes. 

“You have to jump into the ocean and sing me a song…” he wiggled his eyebrows at her and couldn’t hold back the laugh that followed as her expression changed to shock and awe.

“You wouldn’t…”

“Oh, baby, I would.”

Her eyes narrowed on him briefly before she stood straighter and pushed her shoulders back before turning her expression softer and kissing his lips. “You’re on, Hollywood.”

 Y/N claimed two skee ball lanes side by side and waited for Jensen to return with quarters. All around her machines were ringing, video games were blaring and from somewhere far away, she could hear the big wheel operator barking at passersby to come and take a chance. Jensen returned a moment later and placed a plastic cup of quarters between them. He rubbed his hands together and eyed her up.

“Ready?”

“Oh, I am. Question is, are you ready to ride the Poltergeist?”

Jensen laughed, but under it, Y/N detected a hint of fear. 

“So, that’s a yes?” she asked.

“Oh no… no, no. No rides, but I do promise that you will be wet by the end of the night,” he replied, trying to bolster the confidence he had by silently reminding himself that he was great at sports when he was younger and should have no problem taking her down.

“Of that, I have no doubt, but focus, Jay, we’re talking about the bet, here.”

“Incorrigible,” he rolled his eyes and went to work, putting the quarters in both lanes. The hard, white plastic balls sprung to life and rolled down their enclosure. “Best of three?”

“Best of three,” she repeated and picked up the first ball in the row. “Let’s do this.”

For the next few minutes, both Y/N and Jensen started pitching the balls. At first, he was keeping up with her; for every 100 points she would land, he would hit one a minute later. The first game was over quickly with Y/N winning by only the smallest margin. Jensen pumped more quarters in, playfully giving her the competitive evil eye, that she returned happily accompanied with the most precious smile he’d ever seen her smile. She looked like a kid, her tongue peeking out from the corner of her lips, her focus so intent on the game in front of her. If he hadn’t already fallen in love with her, he could have done it all over again right then and there. Yet, all the love he had for her did not outweigh his desire to win this bet so he could throw her into the ocean; even if it was just in the spray of the breaking surf.

The second game wasn’t even close. Y/N hit the ten thousand point hole twice in a row as Jensen stood there, jaw unhinged in shock. From that point on, one ball after the next she pitched into the next highest point holes with a precision that he didn’t think possible. 

“But… how?” he asked when he looked at the score and saw that he did, in fact, lose the best of three games. 

“Because, my dear… I grew up here. Literally. That lane over there was my lucky one, but this one works, too.”

“You… you hustled me,” he bemoaned, continuing to look at her in shock.

“Technically no. This was your idea, I just went along with it. Why would I out myself as a great skeeball player when I want to win? That’s just silly.” She reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer and despite his current state of disbelief, he didn’t fight her on it. His expression made her laugh as she continued to pull him down the boardwalk in the direction of the pier. 

“You’re really gonna make me do this?” he asked as they approached the ticket booth. 

“I am. But it’s only because I love you, and I am just trying to give you the entire Seaside experience.” Y/N reached into her pocket and passed the cash through the small window after asking for just enough tickets for them to ride one ride before turning back to Jensen. “That, unfortunately for you, includes at least ONE ride. And trust me, I am taking you on the BEST ride the whole pier has to offer.”

“What makes this ride so great?” he asked suspiciously, finally coming out of his fog of losing and falling back into a state of infatuation with Y/N. As they walked beneath the lights of the ride, the excitement he saw in her face, and the bounce in her step was far too alluring for him to even attempt to ignore.

Y/N shrugged before linking her arm with his as they walked towards the big, black box of a building that housed the ride. “It’s always been my favorite since I was a kid. I think I rode it nearly every day of every summer. I would scrounge for change to buy the tickets and get at least one ride in.”

Y/N stopped them right before going through the turn-style. Jensen looked up at the ominous structure that stuck out in opposition to the rest of the surrounding attractions, then back down at her. She was lost in a memory again, and he was able to push his reluctance aside to give her this thing she clearly wanted from him.

“Alright, Trix. You win. Let’s go on a ride.”

Her face lit up brighter than any of the rides around them. “You will not regret this.” She grinned, the impish gleam in her expression enough to keep pushing him forward. “Now, make sure you hold onto the railings as you walk through the tunnel… it spins.”

“Wait.. what?” he asked, frozen in place before Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him through the turn-style.

Once they slowly made their way through the rotating tunnel breezeway, they stepped into a large, brightly lit room that was void of any windows and heavy with the remnants of the prior ride’s smoke machine effect. Loud music was booming all around them and in the middle of the room, was the Scrambler, a ride Jensen remembered well from his childhood and the county fairs his parents would take him to. But he had never seen the ride set up like it was here. Off to the far side of the room was a high rise booth where a man sat to control the ride and the music. 

Y/N led him around the outside of the ride and towards the booth. 

“One sec,” she said and climbed up the few stairs before knocking on the booth’s door. 

Jensen watched as she spoke to the operator for a minute, who nodded at her and then she was back at his side, once again leading him around the ride. Finally, she found the one she wanted and climbed in, motioning for him to join her. 

“What did you say to him?” Jensen asked, nodding his head in the direction of the booth.

“Just requested a song,” she said absently, then patted his knee. “So, are you excited?!”

Jensen wanted to say no, but he didn’t want to diminish how excited she was. It wasn’t even that he disliked the rides; they were a favorite of his as a kid. He had just eaten way more than he wanted too, plus the margaritas, and he didn’t want his stomach to betray him and ruin the rest of their night. Before he could say anything, the secondary ride conductor came through and secured the safety bar. Truth was, he was a little excited, but not for the ride itself; he was more excited to see her so happy, all the traces of the summer’s earlier drama gone. 

“You know,” he said, leaning closer towards her ear and leaving a little kiss at the base of her neck, “I think I am.”

The lights went out and the ride started to move. Jensen heard the hiss of the smoke machine starting up its effect, just as the opening beats to Carry On My Wayward Son started to play at a near-deafening volume as the strobe lights pulsating in beat with the music.

“You did NOT!” he yelled over the music and started to slide towards the outer edge of the seat as the ride moved faster. “You are so gonna get it for that!”

Y/N slid back and forth, too, crashing into his side and laughing hysterically as it catapulted them around the room, spinning faster and faster as the song boomed over them. She sang along when she could between getting forced by the gravity of the ride from one side to the other. Jensen tried to move his arm to hold onto her but found himself laughing too as he lost his grip thanks to the velocity of which is rotated. The ride felt endless, and yet with each pass across the center and back out, he couldn’t stop smiling and laughing; he was starting to understand why she loved it so much. 

It was a minute or two later that the ride was starting to slow, just as the song itself was fading to an end, and Ozzy Osbourne’s voice was filling the vast space. When it finally came to a complete stop, the attendant was going around unlocking the safety bars. He got to Y/N’s and Jensen’s first, and he immediately hopped out, then turned to help her down the narrow metal steps, to the floor. 

“I can’t believe you told them to play Carry On,” he shook his head and took a minute to get his knees secure under him. “Such a brat.”

Y/N snickered and leaned into him. “Aw, come on. It was fun!”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, pressing his lips together to suppress the grin that wanted to come. “Come on, let’s go get some fresh air, so I don’t end up losing half my dinner.”

As they made their way back out into the fresh, salty air, Jensen put an arm around her waist and pulled her close. She was quiet but seemed contented as they explored the shops, and played a few games before heading back down past the pier again and nearly crashing into a family of five, bickering about whether they should get ice cream, candied apples or funnel cake. The family’s banter made Jensen laugh as he overheard the father say, ‘Get all three, diabetes be damned!’ because it was something he would say to his own kids… if he had his own. The more he looked around and saw all the families enjoying Seaside’s amenities, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was something Y/N ever thought about. 

Shaking his head of that particular rabbit hole, he concentrated on her in that moment and how beautiful and happy she looked. They continued walking down the boardwalk, the chaos of the games and rides fading behind them. Down this part of the town’s beachfront were a string of bars, hotels, and shops that catered to the vacationers without families. Live music poured from every other bar, some of it sounding pretty good. Y/N tried to pull him into one bar to see a band play, but he was afraid it would set her off, thinking about work and that was the last thing he wanted. 

“Hey, we got to do your thing… now, let’s do mine,” he said sweetly, taking her by both wrists and pulling her towards the wide-open beach. “Nighttime sand between your toes, remember?”

Y/N agreed easily and took his hand as they made their way down the unguarded stairs that led out towards the beach. She kicked off her sandals near the entrance and Jensen followed suit before heading down closer to the water. There were a handful of other couples also strolling hand in hand, some spread out on blankets and watching the stars. 

“Tonight has been a lot of fun,” Jensen said, taking her hand as their toes touched on the cold remnants of the seafoam left behind by a retreating wave. “Despite losing to you in skeeball and having to go on a ride.”

“It has been, despite all that,” she teased and playfully bumped her hip against his. “You seriously hated it that much?”

“No, I didn’t. I do like giving you a hard time about it, though.”

“Mean,” she pouted and let go of his hand and walked down closer to the ocean to look out over the water. The moon was higher in the sky now, but its reflection was enough to keep the beach illuminated. 

“You have your phone?” he asked, patting down his pockets. “Realized I left mine at the room.”

“What for?” she asked, reaching into her pocket and retrieving it. 

“I want to take a picture. Didn’t you say you wanted to take some together?” 

“Yeah…” she trailed off, eyeing him suspiciously. “But you said--”

“Geez, woman. Just give me your phone,” he groaned and taking it from her hand. He positioned himself behind her, resting the side of his face against hers. The pier was their backdrop, along with the moon high in the sky and when he raised the camera of the phone to capture the moment, he noticed how she was looking at him, instead of the camera. Just as he snapped a few quick pictures, she kissed his cheek. 

“That’s a good one,” he smiled and absently tossed the phone to the dry sand. 

“What are you--” she said in protest but was stopped by Jensen picking her up swiftly and running towards the water. Y/N screamed and laughed while hitting his back begging him not to throw her in. “Pleeeasseee don’t!! JENSEN! Noooo!!”

“I told you I wanted to do my thing,” he laughed and ran through the surf, disregarding his own clothes from getting soaked in the process. Another step later, an incoming wave made him lose his balance and they both toppled over into the water as it crashed over them. 

“You’re so dead!” Y/N yelled and got up, only to be toppled again by one last wave. 

Jensen was on his feet and running from the surf, as she closely followed behind. He was running towards the pier, and she paused only long enough to grab her phone before taking off after him. Y/N caught up to him near the pilings and squealed with laughter as his arm darted out from behind one, hooking her around her waist. 

“I’m the dead one, huh?” he teased and pulled her in, his mouth going to her neck and attacking it greedily. 

She instantly stopped fighting him and gave in to that sensation of his teeth and tongue working against her skin. From above, the noises of the boardwalk continued on, but where they were, out of sight and out of mind, they could only hear the other’s breathing change and hearts pounding faster. His need to have her was instant, but the fear of getting caught out in the open hindered his hands from pulling down her shorts and having her right there. Still, he couldn’t pull himself away as his hands continued exploring her body.  

“Come here,” she said, as if knowing his thoughts, and led him further under the pier. They were completely hidden from the public, and just before he grabbed her and flipped her down to the sand, she tossed her phone aside. 

“This is a bad idea,” Jensen mumbled as he went back to kissing her neck. His hand was pushing her shirt up so he could paw at her breasts, her body arching up beneath him. 

“It's fine,” she breathed, working on getting his shorts loose enough to pull down. “I need you, Jay… I want you now.” Y/N ached for him just as badly as he did for her, his erection rock hard and pressing into her thigh. She finally got them pushed down and began to stroke him slowly, making him moan into her neck. 

“Fuuck..,” Jensen growled and yanked her shorts and panties down with one rough pull. 

The tip of his dick found her quickly; the ocean wasn’t the only thing causing her to be so wet. She mewed and whispered his name as he brushed against her clit, swollen and needy for his touch before he easily slid up into her. Jensen positioned himself for a better angle, thrusting quick and sharp while her nails dug into his back, holding onto him for dear life. Neither of them would last long, given the desperation, they felt for this release and the speed at which he was fucking her. The sounds of the boardwalk above easily covered their noises, and when Y/N came, Jensen covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply. A moment later, he joined her and buried his face into her neck, biting down on her shoulder to keep from being heard by passersby. 

Jensen rolled over and flopped his back onto the sand beside her. He pulled his shorts back up and secured them, as she did the same. Y/N propped herself up on one elbow, so she could look down at him and smile, flushing with warm embarrassment when he finally caught her gaze. 

“That was unexpected,” he laughed, flustered at what they just did under the pier. He reached up to brush a hair from her cheek. He was trying to think of something witty, or sarcastic to stay, to break the bit of the awkwardness of the moment, but all he could think about was how alive she made him feel.

The sound of voices took them by surprise, making them both sit up and listen carefully. When the people spoke again, they were getting closer, forcing Jensen and Y/N to quickly get up and finish securing their clothing. Y/N grabbed her phone and was just putting it in her pocket when another young couple appeared at the opposite side of the pier. 

“Come on,” Jensen said, grabbing her hand and turning towards the exit to the beach. “I think we should grab some funnel cake and head back to the room. Whatcha say?”

“That sounds perfect,” she sighed contently and leaned into his side as they left the beach. 

Later that night, after finishing the funnel cake and taking long, hot showers, Jensen and Y/N lay in bed, lazily dozing and whispering late into the night. He could feel her breathing starting to slow and knew she would be asleep soon. Thinking back over the night, he realized how much he had thought about them revisiting Seaside one day in the future, and maybe doing it with their own kids. No matter how often he tried to push it again, he couldn’t, and though he knew Y/N loved him and wasn’t going anywhere, he needed to know how she felt about it.

“Hey Trix, you awake?”

“Mhm,” she replied, exhaling a slow breath. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm,” she repeated, this time snuggling deeper into the crook of his arm and wrapping an arm across his chest. 

“Have you, uh… you ever thought about having kids?”

Y/N lifted her head and through her tired eyes, looked at him curiously. “What brought that on?”

“Seeing all those families up there tonight, I guess. Makes me think about bringing my own kids here one day.”

“So kids… that’s something you want.”

Jensen considered it and nodded gently. “Yeah. I do. And I wanna bring them back here one day to show them where their mom grew up.” His tongue darted nervously over his bottom lip as he watched her realize what he was saying. 

“Jay… I… don’t know what to say, really. I never considered kids because, well, look who I was with. I never had a stable enough relationship where they could even be an option.”

“And now?”

“Now? I…” she shrugged and when her (y/c) eyes met his, she softened and lightly brushed the back of her hand against his cheek. “Now, I can at least let myself think of a future. One that goes beyond the festival. Kids… maybe? I don’t know. I’m sorry I can’t give you more than that, right now, I just know that the future I do see definitely has you in it.”

Jensen kissed the side of her head and held her closer. “Baby, that’s all I really needed to know.” 

Everything Tags:  @sorenmarie87 // @yallgotkik // @thefaithfulwriter // @sister-winchesters99 // @thymeheals // @coffeebooksandfandom

“When You Least Expect It” Tags: @vickyfarley // @winchest09 // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @aomi-nabi // @luciathewinchestergirl // @alexiswinchester // @seppys-return-to-madness // @donnaintx // @deans-baby-momma // @the-is13 // @stoneyggirl // @captaindorit0 // @fanfictionjunkie1112 // @focusonspn // @mrsjenniferwinchester

SPN RPF Tags:  @screechingartisancashbailiff // @winchesterxfamilybusiness // @sandlee44 // @wings-of-a-raven // @negans-wife // @kazosa // @teaspoin // @whiskeyandapplepie // @hobby27 // @breereadsthings // @maddiepants // @adoptdontshoppets // @closetspngirl // @whereismyangel-damnitdeanshare // @katehuntington // @his-paradox // @screechingartisancashbailiff

#Jensen Ackles RPF #Jensen Ackles x reader #Jensen Ackles x reader insert #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x y/n #spn rpf #spn fan fics #rpf fanfics

[badsext]

The Substance of Love - Chapter 3: Klaus x Female Reader

Chapter 1 is here

Chapter 2 is here

Word count: ~ 1950

Warnings: This is where the tender, loving SMUT is.

_________________________________________________________

“So you finished it?,” Klaus inquired, his mouth full of instant noodles.

“Yeah”

“And….”

“Oh my god, it’s so epic.  I never thought I’d root so hard for the antichrist….Heaven is full of hard ass warmongers…The devil is a deadbeat dad.  That shit is priceless!  And, of course, Azirafale and Crowley are so perfect together.  I’d ship them.”

“I really like you, Y/N.“  Klaus said, his eyes focused on you.

"Aren’t you, uh?…You stammered.

"What?"  He grinned, still staring and enjoying your embarrassment a little. 

"I mean, I’m not completely…either, but I thought…” Your voice got caught in your throat and your cheeks grew hot.

“Never mind.  What I meant to say is, me too, Klaus.  I like you too.”  You started frantically checking around the pillows on the couch.  “Oh for fuck’s sake - Where is the remote?  I still need to show you my favorite movie.”

“Since when do you swear this much?,” Klaus teased.

You bopped him in the face with one of the pillows then settled into a comfortable position.

“I guess the ghosts decided to give you a break, hu?”

“Oh no.  We’re definitely not alone.  It’s like listening to two or more conversations at once.  My brother, Ben is here.  He’s a real chatty bitch.”

“Is he the one with the…"  You mime a creature bursting out of your chest.

Klaus laughed. “Yeah.  You know he can see you.”

“Oh, right…I’m just saying ‘Aliens’ might not be the best choice of movies.”

Your phone buzzed with a text from Kendra.  It said ‘call me - important.’

“Ooh.  I’ve gotta make a quick call.”

“Alright, I’ll go outside for a smoke,” he said. You narrowed your eyes at him.  “Just a smoke,” he assured you.

“Okay.  Give me five minutes."  Klaus shut the door and you turned your attention to Kendra.

"Hey Kendra, what’s so important?”

“Is Klaus there?"  Her tone of voice made you nervous.

"He went out for a smoke, why?”

“I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you this….She paused and took a deep breath.  "Klaus and I have been seeing each other. I know you two are close.  Has he mentioned it to you?

"Um, no."  You reply, still processing the information.

"That’s what I was afraid of.  I just hope he’s not giving you the wrong idea.  He’s also been telling me things.  He told me why you got fired from Mount Saini.  I just wanted to warn you, before you got too involved.  He’s not who you think he is, Y/N.  Just be careful.

"Okay, I appreciate you telling me."  You wiped the tears that had already formed on your face as Klaus opened the door.  He noticed immediately that something was wrong.

"What is it?  What happened?"  He rushed over and tried to comfort you, but you just stared at the ground with your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, hurt but not wanting to confront him.  You were embarrassed for thinking Klaus might have romantic feelings for you.

"I have a job interview in the morning.  I think you should go,” was all you could manage to say without crying.

“Please tell me what’s going on,” he pleaded.  His hands gripped the back of his neck and he looked as if he was about to cry himself.  The more he insisted, the more you felt like you were being played.  Kendra’s words still rang in your ears.

“I don’t owe you an explanation.  Just get the fuck out,” you said, effectively ending the argument.  Klaus searched your eyes for a compromise, but he found them unrelenting.  Instead of slamming the door, as you may have expected, Klaus closed the door so carefully it barely made a sound, which was somehow worse.  You started crying as soon as he was gone.

A few minutes into your breakdown, just as a headache was beginning to form, you went into the kitchen for some water and it dawned on you.  Maybe Kendra was lying.  Klaus looked genuinely confused and upset. After leaving your place, Klaus would have gone to Kendra’s or to the club to score drugs.  If you found him at the club, that could mean he wasn’t with Kendra after all.  It was worth a shot. 

You headed downtown to the spot he always talked about in group, 'The Shark Tank.'  You were so conflicted. Part of you wanted to find him there, suggesting that maybe he did have feelings for you and not Kendra.  Another part of you was devastated to think of him using again and that you had something to do with it.  You were so torn, you thought about buying some street pills and just getting high.  This is the point when you would have called your sponsor, which reminded you that you needed a new sponsor ASAP.

Klaus’ description the club in group really flattered the place.  It was actually a grimy hole in the wall, chock full of sweaty club kids.  It would seem that at thirty, Klaus had outgrown it.  But then there he was, leaning against the wall looking despondent.  You were relieved to see him there, but still anxious about what you might learn.  He looked up at you confused.  The music was so loud you had to get close and practically yell into his ear.

“Did you take anything?"  Klaus just opened his hand.  In it was a standard little plastic baggie of amphetamines.  He looked up at you, clearly feeling the blunt force of his emotions.  He was clean.

"What stopped you?"  You asked, wondering how he had the strength.

"I guess I didn’t want to disappoint you."  The significance of this made your heart jump, but you couldn’t let it stop you from your purpose. 

"Klaus, I have to ask you something." 

"Please!  I have to know what you’re mad about.  I seriously have no clue.”

“Kendra knows about my past, not about my power, but she knows the reason I was fired from the hospital…You didn’t -”

“No, I didn’t tell her that!  I wonder how she would-”

“You’re not sleeping with Kendra, are you?”

“God, no!  I haven’t talked to her since the last NA meeting.  She came onto me, but I wasn’t into it.  I turned her down and she didn’t take it well, but I didn’t think she’d try anything like this,” Klaus replied, looking genuinely distraught.

You looked into those haunted green eyes and you knew you believed him.  Klaus was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar.  Kendra had raised some doubt during a moment of weakness, but she was manipulating you.  You had real, tangible feelings for Klaus and it was time he knew it.

You held his head in your hands and kissed him delicately on the lips.  Then you pulled back holding your breath for his reaction.  A split second passed which felt like a millennia while he sorted his thoughts.  Then he smiled, pulled you close, and kissed you with an intensity that affirmed everything you had hoped for.  His passion persuaded you to move your body to the music with his.  Dancing was something you had rarely, if ever done sober.  But it felt so good to finally have your body pressed against his that the rhythm came naturally to you.  His hands were wrapped around your waist and yours had found their way to the back of his neck.  Klaus nuzzled into your ear and whispered, “Wanna get outta here?”

Buy the time you got to your apartment, you were so desperate for each other, you barely made it through the door without tumbling onto the floor.  You each began shedding your clothes.  Your eyes raked over his smooth skin and lean muscles, adding to the growing wet heat between your legs.  He was likewise aroused by the sight of you removing your sundress.  His tight leather pants were made tighter by the sight of your naked silhouette.  You grabbed teasingly at his bulge while he explored your mouth with his tongue.  “Let me help you with this,” you said into his lips, as your fingers fumbled with his fly.  He trailed sensual kisses down your neck and shoulders.  

When his pants fell down around his ankles he kicked them off then lifted you off the ground to straddle him. Your breath caught in you throat as he spun you around towards the bed.  He put you down gently and trailed his fingertips softly through the hollow between your breasts, over the soft curve of your stomach, and down to your aching pleasure center.  He looked into your eyes as his fingers danced and played with your sensitive flesh.  You gasped and moaned, reacting to his subtle and not so subtle movements.  He dragged his lips down to your breast and sucked your nipple into his mouth while he slipped his fingers into your tight wet void.  You bucked forward and he swirled his thumb against your swollen bundle of nerves.  There was no holding back, you came before you even realized what was happening, moaning and twitching and spasming around Klaus’ fingers.

“We haven’t even gotten to the best part,” he said, withdrawing his fingers and giving them a little taste.

You reached up, wrapping one hand gently around his neck and purred, “I need you now, Klaus.”

That was all he needed.  You felt his throat muscles clench and his erection press harder against your belly.   He slipped into you so easily and filled you completely.  Then he began thrusting, grinding, and building friction exactly where you wanted it.  Another orgasm pulsed through you, and Klaus watched your body arch and react.  He cracked a proud little smile as he continued.  After riding out your climax, you seized his shoulders and rolled on top of him.  You wanted to make him feel the way he made you feel.  You rocked your hips forward until he was buried to the hilt.  You intuitively wrapped your hands around his neck and squeezed lightly as you bounced up and down.  It wasn’t long before Klaus was bucking and releasing himself deep inside you. 

“Wow, that was….”

“Um hm.”

You dismounted carefully and rested your head on the pillow next to him.  You laid there together a moment, just catching your breath.  He grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together.  

“So, this is going to sound random …My father died a few weeks ago. You were still in rehab. I went back home for the funeral and saw all my brothers and sisters. It got me thinking.”

“Oh god, that’s right.  I remember seeing it in the news. I’m so sorry, Klaus.  I can’t believe I didn’t even acknowledge it.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it…He will not be missed…The point I was trying to make is that if you’re interested, I ‘d like to take you home…to meet my family.”

“Oh my god, Klaus, yes!”  You peppered his face with featherlight kisses, then you settled in behind him, one arm under the pillow and the other slung over his hip.

“Oh, wait.  I really do have a job interview in the morning.”  You suddenly remembered and leaned over to set your alarm.  “And let’s confront Kendra at the next meeting.  She shouldn’t get away with this shit and I’d love to know where she got her information.”

“Mmm,” Klaus writhed against you.  “You’re sexy when you plot revenge.”

“Go to sleep,” you chuckled, kissing his curls.

Want more?

@moorehollandplz @helena-way07 @bubblyani @yeetskeetbuddy @zoemassingale @zohrayoung @ohyoubringmejoy @mywinterivy @waywardtrashfam @fiowersnack @becka1703 @zohargreeves @slutonside @klaushollandyoung @bekindbeslutty @hmblergah @justahufflebird @salty9winter9adult @kit-kat-is-me-lol @victor-criss-bish

#klaus x reader #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves X reader #klaus hargreeves series #klaus hargreeves angst #tua imagine #tua fanfic #tua smut #tua #robert sheehan imagine #tua series #The Umbrella Academy #umbrella academy imagine #robert sheehan x reader #number 4 #klaus hargreeves smut

[walkerismychoice]

Tattoo on My Heart (Colt X MC)

Book: Ride or Die

Pairing: Colt X MC (Gabi)

Rating: PG-13

Note: I got an anon request for MC using Colt to make Logan jealous but then falling for Colt instead. I kind of found a way to work this into what I already had going and in between canon events.

Summary:  Gabi brings Colt with her to tail Kaneko to make Logan jealous, but she gets more than she bargained for.

Word Count: 1700

Tag List: @mfackenthal @debramcg1106 @tmarie82 @lizeboredom @the-everlasting-dream @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @plutostudie-s @akrenich @rhymesmenagerie @confessionsofabrokegirl @alegria1580 @boneandfur @i-miss-trr @choicesarehard (let me know if I missed anyone)

Things between Gabi and Logan have been better since their heart to heart talk, but she can tell he’s still trying to keep her at arm's length. This may be harder  to do now that she’s living in the loft with him, however, Gabi still gets the sense he’s trying to make it clear they aren’t together, offering to sleep on the couch so she can have the bed. But Gabi knows there’s still a strong pull between them, and Logan may just need a little push to realize what he’s missing.

Gabi tells herself she’s not just ruthlessly trying to use Colt to get what she wants because she truly is starting to have some feelings for him too, adding confusion to this whole mess of a situation. Colt still runs more cold than hot when others are around, but he surprisingly hasn't objected to her sticking around so long as she committed to being a part of things. If Logan is putting the brakes on their relationship, is it really so wrong to see where things might go with Colt? She thinks not, so when they choose to tail Kaneko when he makes the big drop, Gabi decides to bring Colt along.

Obviously a logical choice, Gabi bringing Colt doesn't raise too many eyebrows, but Logan's disappointment is written across his face. Is it because he wants to be a part of it or because he wants to be with her? Gabi doesn't know for sure, but she thinks her efforts are working.

-----

Colt sits down in the grass and Gabi follows. "Are you sure you're okay, Colt?" she asks after the exchange with the Brotherhood has not gone as planned. Kaneko has already driven off, leaving only Colt and Gabi behind.

Colt scowls. "Yeah, I'm just ready to teach those assholes they've fucked with the wrong crew."

Gabi places a hand on Colt's shoulder. "You know, you don't have to act so tough all the time. It's okay to have feelings and admit you are worried."

"I told you before, I'm not scared," Colt growls as he ducks out from under her touch. "Pop has worked too hard go let these dickheads mess things up for him. I just need to help come up with a plan, and he'll see I was made for this too."

Gabi wants to say Kaneko probably just wants what's best for Colt and not a life of crime, but she's one to talk. In her own quest for self-discovery, she's doing everything she can to escape the sheltered life her father wants for her. They can both deal with their daddy issues later, but she's made a choice now and she needs to see it through. "Well then, like I said l, I'm all in."

Gabi can almost make out a hint of a smile on Colt's lips. "You know, kid, I thought you'd be running home the moment shit got real, but look at you now. If someone would have told me when I met you that in a matter of weeks you'd become a tattooed car thief like the rest of them, I would would have laughed in their face. You continue to surprise me, Gabi."

When he puts it that way, she's not sure if its something she should be proud of, but this is probably the closest he's come to a compliment yet, and his comment brings another question to mind. "Speaking of my tattoo...Everyone else seemed to love it, but I'm curious to know what you think. Were you holding back some smart-ass comment to spare my feelings?"

"Come on, Gabi. I think you know me well enough by now to know that I wouldn't pass up the chance to give you a hard time if I wanted to. To be honest, I didn't really get a good look it." Colt sweeps her hair off her left shoulder and delicately slips the thin strap of her tank top down just enough so the feather is in full view. Her heartbeat quickens as he traces a finger around the perimeter of the freshly inked design sending goosebumps across her skin. "I was far too distracted by the rest of the view."

Colt's gaze drops down across her body, and it's like he's set her on fire, Gabi remembering that he saw her standing in the shop half naked. She can't help but look away to compose herself as she pulls the strap of her shirt back up. ”So...you still didn’t tell me what you think of the tattoo,” she states flatly, trying to shift the conversation back for her own self-preservation. 

Colt chuckles. “You are a persistent one, aren’t you? It’s very....you. And I mean that in a good way. It’s cool that you put some thought into the meaning behind it so you won’t regret it later. Now if you would have done something stupid like a whole sleeve tattoo, I would have never let you live that down.”

Gabi laughs nervously. “That would have been really dumb considering it was a spur of the moment decision. Who gets a full sleeve as their first tattoo?” She’s definitely not going to tell him she briefly considered it when she saw a pretty design while she was sifting through pictures on Google trying to decide what she wanted. “So, you think we should head back now? It’s getting late.” 

Colt looks out over the city lights. “I’m not really feeling like going back yet, and I’m kind of starving. Want to grab some food with me?”

“Only if it’s something terribly greasy and unhealthy. I’m craving something artery clogging.” Gabi laughs.

“I almost hate to say this, but you are making me like you more and more. How about In-and-Out Burger?”  Colt suggests.

“Sold!” Gabi replies but then a thought of Logan waiting back at the loft flits across her mind. “I’m just going to text Logan and let him know I’ll be back late...You know, he just might be wondering since I’m staying in the loft with him.” She didn’t have to say this out loud and she’s not quite sure why she did. Logan is the one she’s testing, not Colt. 

Colt’s expression hardens slightly. “You don’t need permission from me.” He stands up and offers a hand to Gabi before they get in the car and drive off. 

Gabi gets a text back from Logan that just says “OK”, so she’s not sure how to read that. Colt seems fine the rest of the night, making small talk, but their conversations don’t go much deeper than surface level. Gabi orders a double-double, fries and a vanilla milkshake, and Colt is thoroughly impressed when she eats it all. 

Everything is dark back at the shop when they arrive. They quietly shut the doors to Gabi’s car, and she drifts slowly towards the stairs to the loft, somewhat waiting to see if Colt’s going to say anything more. She’s just about to give up when Colt stops her. “Gabi, wait...”

Gabi turns around to find Colt standing much closer than she anticipated. “Oh!” He steadies her arms before she crashes into him. She says nothing more and waits.

“I just wanted to say, I have no idea what’s going on between you and Logan, and honestly it’s none of my business, but I don’t want to ignore what’s going on here.”

“And what exactly do you think is going on?” she challenges. She’s not going to give anything more until she knows what Colt is offering. 

“I know how you feel about me Gabi. I noticed how you stare at my lips a second too long when I talk as you bite your own.” He puts a hand over her tattoo. “I felt your heart pounding when I touched you here, just like it is now. I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?” She asks, still hesitant to play his game, but she doesn’t shy away this time, locking her eyes on his smoldering gaze. 

“Tell me what you want,Gabi,” Colt demands.

He has her now. She’s too weak to hold out, brave enough to give in. “I want you to kiss me,” she breathes just loud enough for Colt to hear.

In an instant, Colt pulls Gabi flush against him, and his lips come down hard on hers like he’s been waiting all night or even longer than that. She parts hers, their tongues colliding as one of Colts hands glides down the small of her back. She closes her eyes and takes everything in - the feel of the heat radiating off his firm body, the taste of chocolate milkshake still on his lips, the smell of cologne mixed with leather - until she finally breaks the kiss, gasping for air. 

Colt smirks triumphantly. “I thought so.” He kisses her once again, softer and sweeter this time. “Goodnight, Gabi.”

“Goodnight.” She barely manages to squeak out, still a bit stunned by what just occurred. She runs up the stairs without looking back but slows when she remembers what she’s heading into. She’s not sure how to face Logan immediately after kissing Colt, but once she steps inside she’s relieved to see she doesn’t have to. Logan is sleeping in his bed, which he had promised to leave open for her. She supposes that answers the question of how he felt about her staying out with Colt.

Gabi tiptoes around as she gets ready for bed, but Logan rolls over just as she’s about to climb on the couch.

“Hey, Gabi” he says groggily, his eyes only half open.”You can sleep up here with me if you want.”

Gabi is taken aback, as this is the exact opposite reaction of what she expected. But it's what she wanted, what she was hoping to accomplish by going out with Colt, isn’t it? She gets in bed with Logan and backs up against him. He scoots in closer, draping an arm over her and falls asleep again in seconds. It feels nice, it feels safe, but she’s not so sure that’s enough because it’s not Logan she’s thinking of as she waits for sleep to come.

#playchoices fanfic #playchoices #ROD #colt x mc #colt kaneko #my fic

[tiny-maus-boots]

Soulmates AU pt 9

There was ringing and there shouldn’t be. Why the hell was there ringing at whatever ungodly hour it was? Stacie rolled over in her king sized bed and reached blindly across the mattress for her phone. Long fingers grazed along the edge hard plastic and she grunted when she realized it was just a hair too far away and she’d have to make an effort to reach it. And who the hell changed her ringtone to Ace of Base? That shit was going to get stuck in her brain all day long, she just knew it. Stacie expended more effort than she wanted to, lunging the last few inches to her phone.

Stacie blinked at the phone, squinting her eyes to try and read the display but the letters looked wrong and unfamiliar. With a sigh she half rolled to the nightstand and put on a pair of glasses so she could read the screen. Aubrey A. Posen. Events from the night before flashed through her mind and she smiled because of course Aubrey would be the type of person to put her middle initial and last name in someone else’s phone. The brunette stretched in bed and brought the phone up to her ear as she answered it with an amused smile curling her lips. “I should have figured you’d be an early rising weirdo.”

There was silence for a beat then a deep breath as if Aubrey were trying to work herself up to speak. “I…I’m sorry. I can call back later. I’m so sorry…I don’t know why. Never mind. Thank you for your time.”

There was an abrupt click of silence and Stacie looked at her phone with a mild frown. “Did she just…” Yup. Sure enough Aubrey had hung up on her. A laughed bubbled up and Stacie tapped the dial button on her phone.

It rang three or four times before it was answered and she wasn’t at all surprised to hear Aubrey’s cool and collected tone as if she were answering a work call and not a personal one. “This is Aubrey Posen.”

“Hi Aubrey Posen.” Silence stretched for a moment between them and she rolled on to her belly, feet kicking up in the air behind her. “Did you call me just to hang up on me or did ya want to actually talk? No judgements. Hang up kink is totes valid and I respect the right of every individual to let their freak flag fly.”

There was a strangled sound on the other end and Stacie couldn’t tell if it was surprised outrage or humor. “I don’t have kinks!”

“Yes you do!”

“Chloe! That is totally inapprop…I do not have kinks!” There was some rustling and muffled laughter before Aubrey cleared her throat, her tone even and controlled once more. “Good morning. I apologize for my rudeness, I should have realized it was too early to call on you.”

Stacie’s smile grew as she listened, a laugh bubbling up out of her. “God you’re really like this. That’s awesome.”

“Like…what? Something…bad?” Stacie immediately regretted her choice in words at the sudden wary and vulnerable tone in Aubrey’s voice. Aubrey cleared her throat and rushed on like she hadn’t just let the real her peek out from behind her perfectly focused façade. “If I’ve woken you we can alwa…”

“Adorable.”

“…ys talk ano..wha…pardon?”

Stacie chuckled softly. “You’re really this adorable.” She didn’t even know why that had spilled out of her mouth the way it did but she didn’t regret it. After realizing who Aubrey was she had a sneaking suspicion that she’d found her A. And while she absolutely dreaded the idea of finding a soulmate she also kinda maybe couldn’t stop herself from smiling just at the thought of Aubrey. “You know I kinda like it when you get all flustered. I get the feeling it doesn’t happen often.”

“No. No it doesn’t.” Aubrey’s tone had gentled and warmed and Stacie wondered what had triggered the change. There were just so many interesting facets to the blonde and for the first time in her life she wondered what it would be like spending a lifetime discovering all of them. It was startling and comforting all at the same time and she didn’t really understand it. Not fully anyway. “Listen Stacie the reason I called is because I…we…thought you and Beca might like to come over today. For lunch.”

She chewed her lip in thought and rolled onto her back again so she could stare at herself in the large mirror on the ceiling. It wasn’t a feature she’d have thought to use in own decorating but it was up there when she rented the apartment and had actually served her well so she’d kept it. Now she was using it to notice the way her eyes were bright with joy in a way they hadn’t been since before her mother had passed away. “I’ll have to ask Beca if she’s got any plans today but I’m free. And lunch sounds good. Lemme see what B says and I’ll call you back yeah?”

“Sure that would be good. Please give Beca our regards.”

Stacie chuckled at that and nodded. “Sure. Talk to you in a bit.” She hung up and blinked up at her image in the mirror. “Holy shit…I totally have a crush. What the actual fuck.” The thought that she could change it all now if she wanted to crossed her mind. She could stop before it started, just not engage and stay away. She could still hold herself apart and never let anyone get attached to her just like she had been doing. But it felt…wrong now. Hollow.

She let her long legs drop to the side of the bed and finally got up with a massive spine cracking stretch. Stacie padded to the bathroom intending to shower before she called Beca knowing that her neighbor was probably definitely not awake yet. She dropped her underwear on the floor and pulled off her tank top, letting it drop on cool tile of the bathroom floor. It took always took a while for the water to warm up so she turned the shower on and spent a few minutes thinking about what she’d wear to lunch and why she wasn’t more bothered about the prospect of spending more time with Beca and the girls.

Her mind was still swirling when she turned and purely out of habit glanced at herself in the in the full length mirror on the wall before stepping under the spray of the shower. It took her a good full three minutes of lathering her hair before she realized what she had seen. The loofah fell from her nerveless fingers and she whirled to look at the marks on her ribs. The angle made it hard to see clearly and with growl of frustration she stepped out of the shower streaming with water. Stacie brushed an impatient hand over the steamed mirror to clear it.

“No…nonononono.” Stacie’s fingers traced over the mark that had overnight it seemed resolved itself finally into Aubrey’s name. Goosebumps rose in the wake of her touch but she wasn’t shocked. She knew that would show up sooner or later and had guessed it would be sooner. No that hadn’t phased her at all really. It was the name scrawled with a back slant to the letters that only left-handed people had. Beca.

She was just tentatively getting used to the idea of Aubrey being in her future but now she had Beca to consider and twice as much of herself to lose if…when…something happened. Stacie only just remembered to grab her towel and didn’t think to rinse the shampoo out of her hair or even to turn off the water. Somehow seeing Beca’s name stung like a betrayal and she knew it was because she had gotten too close, too attached to the shorter woman. She had thought it was safe, Beca didn’t have marks so this shouldn’t have been possible. Stacie took the stairs down two at a time and sprinted to Beca’s door pounding feverishly. When no one answered she pounded harder almost kicking at the door in desperate need, one hand barely keeping her towel up.

“Alright alright Jesus! Stop banging on my goddamn door like the fucking poli…” Beca swung her door open with an aggravated scowl and blinked at Stacie dripping all over the un-welcome mat in front of her door. “Stacie? What the fu…”

Stacie pulled her towel to the side and glared. “No! You what the fuck! What the fuck Beca? What. The. Fuck??”

[theinvulnerabletide]

Headcanon meme: (answer for whoever you can think of things for I guess) 1, 8, 11, 12, 23, 26, 29, 30, 34 :3

Okay okay okay. This got long because some of them turned into vignettes, so it’s gonna be under thecut.

1.) Love

Forsomeone who professed to be a loner, Lyra has loved so many people in her life.Her mother, first and brightest and most dearly, murdered on her way back fromher shift at the pub, the Stone Crows, her gang growing up, including her bestfriend Kora, who got scooped off the streets when some passing mage saw her set something on fire with her mind (which now strikes Lyra as ironic, consideringher current travelling companions, and her own predicament).

And then her newfound family,her Magpies. The ones that were murdered so cruelly in front of her.

Love and loss are intertwinedfor Lyra, the brilliance of lightning followed by world-shaking thunder. Whichis why she has, wholeheartedly, decided to stop caring about people. They won’tleave if she doesn’t get attached, and even if they do, well, she won’t feelanything right? Win win.

8.) DreamsIt’s not uncommon for Whisperto dream of water. Even if it wasn’t literally her element,she spent so much of her life surrounded by it; snow and rain pattering on thestone, the underground inlet, the blighted mermaid tank, that it of course itwould enter her dreams at some point.

Tonight though, tonight isdifferent. Tonight she dreams of depths, of an ocean so deep there is nogranulated sunlight to illuminate it, and even her comfort with the dark isn’tenough to make it feel less… crushing. She sees in staticky black and whitehere, feels the way the currents tug insistently at her. She has to remindherself that she can breathe.

There’s movement there, in thedepths. It takes up the whole of her vision. It’s just the suggestion of agreat thing slowly winding and unwinding, pulsing slightly as if with laboredbreath. It does not move against the current. It directs it, and it makes herown breath catch in her throat. Not with fear, but with excitement. 

When she wakes, she swears shecan still feel it, the current tugging at her, the great thing directing herforwards. The letter appears the next day, and the day after that, she isgone. 

12.) Worst Enemy

According to Az’ar, her worst enemies are the Godsthemselves.

The Gods are arbitrary and cruel things, starting and endinglife as it pleases them, for mere entertainment. They set up laws,contradictory and unforgiving, a universe full of pain and misery, and createdsentient creatures to wade through the mud and experience every bit of it.Growing up in the Shadowfell, Az’ar has witnessed it all, and grew to despisethe traditions of the Shadar’kai, the same traditions that honor Hala by tryingto protect the living things she holds so dear, especially from the unnaturalundead things she abhors, the traditions that pretend to honor Her brother bysending them back to His domain, and by dying well.

She left her people, somethingelse that was forbidden, and fought and killed far too many of them in order tocross over to the Prime Material Plane, the tear she made between worldsallowing a few of those undead monstrosities to cross with her. It was aregrettable loss, ones that she lays again at the feet of the Gods; if herpeople had not been obsessed with their supposed sacred duties, they would nothave needed to die.

Az’ar intends to wrest their claws from her chest, by making itso she can never die, and then, she will end their grip on the rest of thePlanes, even if it means killing them. She hope it does. That would be a sweetirony indeed.

23.) Romance

Orianais a romantic. Probably in the classical movement sense as well as in thehopeless romantic sense. She has this ideal of herself: knight in shiningarmor, a blazing paragon of Wahreight’s mercy and light, beating back thedarkness and protecting the innocent.

She also is kind of obsessedwith romance novels, and novels that we might consider romance novels due tothe way books are sold, but, unlike Whisper, prefers the ones that hold a highideal of love than the vulgar. Which isn’t to say she won’t read books with sexin them, only that she prefers more comedies of manners. Jehanne Augere’s Dignityand Discrimination remains her favorite novel (and she finally got a copyof her own the last time we visited Fantasy Half Price Books), and she’s morelikely to blush at the scene where the elven hero confesses his love for thevery human Elisabet. 26.) Beauty

Thecostume is… well. It’s tight. And barely there. Whisper runs her hands thelength of her torso, fingers skimming cut-outs in the shimmering golden fabricat her sides where her midnight skin provides contrast, and she lets out ashuddering breath. She doesn’t know whether its nerves or awe that’s making herstomach clench uncomfortably but… either way.

She sneaks a peak in themirror and looks away almost immediately. Salt and storm, she is glad hermother will never see her in this, or she’d be dead. Brutally and messily andall over the place.

She sneaks another look, outof the corner of her eye at first, then straight on. The leotard is almostblinding in the way the golden cloth catches the light (Ignatius’ choice, nodoubt), small black stitching and sequins giving the illusion of scales downher stomach. At her hips is this strange, diaphanous half-skirt, more like thefrills of a tiger fish than an actual garment. The neckline—if it can be calledthat— plunges far deeper than anything she’s ever worn, and she mutters a quickprayer that she won’t spill out of this thing at an inopportune moment. Or anopportune one. She is not being paid enough for that.

But the effect… She takes astep back, so she can see the whole effect, the golden ribbons wrapped aroundher horns and pinned in her hair, the ridiculous amount of eyeshadow, thestreaks of gold shimmer on her cheeks, she looks… ethereal. Magical. Shestretches one indigo hand out, and her reflection does the same, lightlymeeting her in the mirror. She watches herself smile.

“It looks beautiful on you,”comes a voice from behind her, wobbling like the owner is about to burst intotears. “You look beautiful, Whisper. Just brilliant…”

She whirls around, a scowlslotting into place. “I can’t believe he wants me to wear this, Terrance!”  

The huge man doesn’t seem tohear her, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “Oh, I outdid myself. Just wait until the audience see you. You’re going to dazzle them.”

Whisper laughs under herbreath, and sneaks another look at herself. Okay. Maybe it’s not so bad afterall.

29.) Bedroom (and 11.) Best Friend).

She wasclose, she was so freaking close! If she could just figure out thethaumodynamic stabilizers and the aetheric channels and how to connect them tothe theurgic couplings, then the armor would definitely be finished beforeschool started. Her tongue peaked out of the corner of her mouth as sheconcentrated, wand on one hand, tweezers in the other, a soldering ironfloating above her, held by her mage hand. 

The workbench in front of heris littered with such tools, awl and a few other small sharp blades and hergrindstone, linen thread and an assortment of needles, little colored glass ballsshe’d spent weeks making and enchanting so they wouldn’t break when she used them,and small gems that had cost quite a chunk of the money she made from selling herclockwork toys, not to mention all the other tools she didn’t currently needfor this project. The bed next to her, on the other side, had the rest of thearmor, chest plate and second gauntlet, both nearly finished save for the collectorsthat would collect the untethered thaumic energy from the aether.  

She’s so close. She can feelit.

“Celandine!” her mother calledfrom downstairs, “Celandine, your friend is here!” 

“What?” she freezes, and thewand released the spell it was holding… at the wrong part of the gauntlet. Andsomething started smoking. “Shit!”“Celandine?”

A quick prestidigitation puts the fire out but it definitely smelt like magic gone wrong and scorched leather.“Oh, hell. Coming Mom!”

”I’m sending her up!”  

“Shit!” Celandine cast a lookabout her room. Her chairs were full of clothes and her bed was covered in armorand there was spare leather and clothes and books all over the floor and why hadn’tshe learned the invisible servant spell.

“Hey, Celandine? Your Momsaid—” Caela pauses in the doorway, the top of her head nearly brushing thetop of the doorframe. Her eyes widen as she takes in the state of the room. 

“I know! It’s messy I’m sorry.I got uh…” she looks down at the gauntlet and then back up at her best friend,smiling weakly. “I forgot you were coming over. I’m sorry.” She puts the gauntleton the workbench and reaches over the small space to her bed, which at leastonly had the breastplate and the other gauntlet on it. “Sit down and give me asecond, I’ll have this place tidied up in a…”

But Caela is already bendingover, gathering up the nearest books that had fallen over. “It’s okay. I’llhelp. Why don’t you tell me what you were working on?”And Celandine beams.  

30.) Sex

Oriana pressesthe pillow harder over her head, trying to block out the sound from the onlyother bed in the room. Since she’d been knighted in the service of Wahreight,she’d been moved out of the general barracks and into a shared room;unfortunately, her roommate decided that that was enough privacy in order tocarry on her… assignations with one of the paladins still in training. And theidea of actually talking to Ritika about it was blighted mortifying, so hereshe lies, pillows piled on her head, face burning as she tried to pretend shewas not hearing what she was hearing.

34.) AffectionIt’s not that Whisper’s family was not affectionate. Sheremembers her father’s hand on her head, her mother’s approving smile. Hugsfrom her brothers, kisses on her forehead from the governess. But compared tothe carnival, her family was as touched-starved as any dwarf.

Affection wasphysical and platonic and above all, free among them, holding hands and huggingfor no reason, kisses on cheeks and foreheads and lips, giant cuddle piles inone of the main tents the afternoon after a big show, all of them just waitingfor the inevitable cry to start packing up. 

And the sex. Oh, seaand storms, the sex. There was just so much of it. After the first year she’dgone from having sex once in her entire life to having had more partners thanshe could count, of so many genders, in several different… permutations. Things would just…escalate. Someone would be feeling bad and a cuddle pile or a platonic kisswould turn into make-you-feel-better sex, someone would decide that they wereboard and seek someone out, or two people would be fighting and suddenly they’dbe up against the wall (that happened with Ignatius and a few of the othersmore than she would care to admit), or they’d be coming down off a high of asuccessful heist or a show, adrenaline still singing high gospel within them,and next thing you knew you’d be tearing off someone’s clothes. Maybeseveral someone’s.

But the real world doesn’twork that way. And after a bad experience or two on her way to Hazelscar, she isthoroughly aware of that. Most people don’t like being touched.

She meets Adoraor and Keithiafirst, and she makes sure to keep her hands to herself. Even when Adoraor isbleeding out and she has the stupid idea to stick a knife in his chest to seeif it’ll heal him, because, hey, it worked on that orc, or when Keithia (notThia, not yet) places a hand on her shoulder to press healing magic, warm andtingling, into her skin. Not even when they’re barring the door of a cold stonechamber and waiting out the night, and she knows she could stop them both fromshivering. 

She’s almost starving from it,achingly aware of where people are in relation to her at all times. She finallygives in and hugs Keithia about two weeks in. She feels Keithia freeze up for ahalf a second and she closes her eyes, waiting for the rejection, before Keithiasqueezes back, just for a second, before she eases back. Whisper has to forceherself not to cling, to let her new friend go. 

Oriana, she learns, hatesbeing touched at all and the boys are weird about it, so she has to make ithigh fives and playful slaps and punches to the arm. She can hug Frank, atleast, he’s not strange about it. Sing-songtoo, until he vanishes. 

She nearly cries when it getscold enough that they have to huddle in the Magnificent Bubble (also screw Leomund,she’s the one casting the spell, she’ll call it what she wants), and the Bubbleis just big enough for them. If they huddle. It’s almost like the piles she’sused to, and she plays it off with a few sighs and rolled eyes, but when sheends up cuddled next to Twiggy and Isao of all people, she has to bury her headin her arms, so no one will see her face. It’s almost good enough.

#lyra the half-elven rogue #whisper the tiefling sorceress #oriana the aasimar paladin #az'ar the shadar kai wizard #celandine the gnomish wizard! #sprin'torel campaign #eberron high #whatever the hell this is #ask me anything! #character asks #sometimes kori writes things #islanderscaper

[thedailyscourge]

Day Eleven

(of the 4th month of the year Twenty-hundred and Twenty)

An entry from the journal of a squire of Brookland:

Don’t count your discharges before they’re wheeled out the front door.

Turns out, three of the four patients I thought were going to go home yesterday never left.  One because her lab results very unexpectedly went the wrong way and the other two because there were some logistical issues with getting oxygen tanks delivered to their homes.  I’m not going to make the same mistake again, but when I left today, the oxygen had been delivered and another patient whose discharge was delayed yesterday morning was scheduled to finally leave.  So three potential discharges today.

Now, having spent five days caring for mostly very old regular sized humans, I have begun taking more and more ownership of these patients.  That term, “taking ownership” of patients is something that we employ to say a healthcare worker is taking on more of the responsibility of caring for someone but it means a lot more than that. It means you are more invested in the patient; you spend more hands on time with them and their case.  There’s an emotional connotation to it.  You work harder for them; you’re more a tune to the consequences of each action in the plan.  The victories are sweeter, the defeats more painful.  You go the extra mile. If mistakes are made, you own up to them and you shoulder more of the blame. I think, in some way, it means you learn to love them better.  Their triumphs are yours and their setbacks impact you on a personal level.

As time goes on, I’m getting better at identifying the patterns that exist in the work I’ve been asked to do.  I have a better grasp of what tools I have at my disposal and how my strengths could be leveraged to improve the health of these patients.  Today, that looked like two very different things that in some ways are a greater tell of who I am as a person and a provider than anything else.

The first comes first in the morning.  After getting sign-out on our patients for the day, I let the younger members of the team work on gathering the lab results and placing the necessary orders for each patient.  Meanwhile, I take a little extra risk for the possibility of a little extra reward.  Instead of waiting a few more hours to dawn my armor and visit the patients for the day with my boss, the lead knight of the team who comes in later in the morning, I go into about half of the patient’s rooms myself immediately, turn down the levels of oxygen each is getting, and see how they handle it.  Sometimes I even turn their oxygen off and see if their lungs do all the work themselves like they’re supposed to.  Most of the time, my bet pays off and the patient’s body has grown strong enough under our care that they do fine with the reduced oxygen.  In those cases, a few hours later when I come back around with the other members of the team, I can often turn their oxygen down again or turn it off completely. And that technique I’ve found pushes them further along than if I would have waited and just gone in their room once, later in the morning.  My strength here is that I’m young and healthy with just a 0.2% chance of dying if I contract the Scourge.  In my mind, I’ve processed this as a binary consequence.  Either I die or I don’t.  There is no in-between.  So with a 99.8% chance of a good outcome even if I contract the Scourge, I’m emboldened like a teenager who thinks they’re invincible.  It’s true, the extra visit in the early morning is an unnecessary risk.  In the scheme of things it saves us just a few hours of progress but those hours take place in the most efficient part of the day, the morning, and the way that time works in the castle, those hours add up in a way that could mean the patient gets to go home a day or more sooner than they would have.  And that means we have an empty bed a day or more sooner than we would have which ultimately means we can provide more care to more patients.

But there’s another benefit to these little “pre-rounding” visits.  After I come into a room and change the oxygen settings, I need to take a couple minutes and watch the readout of the oxygen saturation meter that tells me the level of oxygen in the patient’s blood.  While I’m watching those numbers tick up and down, I get to talk to the patients.  I say “get to” because this is honestly the best part of my job and it always has been.  I love to hear about where people grew up, what they studied in college, how many kids (or grandkids) they have and what their ages are.

It might not be obvious, but in my estimation, this specific conversation is one of the single most important and impactful moments on any given day in the treatment of a patient diagnosed with the Scourge.  When the patient tells you about their life, you subconsciously cultivate more empathy for them, a connection grows, and your sense of success becomes tied up with the improvement of their health.  Before, you wanted to “solve the case”, elucidate the details of the disease process, or figure out the best treatment modality to correct the pathology. In other words, you were seeking a sense of cognitive satisfaction.  But now? Now you want to help your new friend go back to work in that field they studied so hard to specialize in.  You want to help this man or woman get back home to their kids, to their spouse, to that garden they love so much.  Now, you want to be the author that writes the happy ending to this part of their story. Now you’re on your way to being an artist.

At this point, you’ve become more invested than you ever were before and more than you ever would be if you spent all that time in a room surrounded by other scientists just talking about the patient instead of with them.  And I really do believe that extra investment drives providers like me to give better care.  It motivates us to come up with more creative solutions to problems.  To try harder and try differently.

But you’re also still a scientist, and while you’re listening to the names of all the grandkids, you’re, multitasking. You know that as the patient talks and talks and talks, they’re actually exerting themselves, using up energy.  Oxygen.  And you can walk and chew gum at the same time.  Tell them you think you’ve been to that part of Michigan. Ask them to use their hand as a mitten like map to point it out. Meanwhile, you’re watching as the oxygen in their blood plummets… or doesn’t.  At the end of it you know about the grandkids, the lake house, the tech school degree, and also, more likely than not this week, that their lungs are stronger right now than they were a few hours ago.

I more or less pointed this out to a patient this week after our conversation when I told her “See, you don’t even need that oxygen anymore.  You need to go home.”.  She blasted back, “Hey, you tricked me!”.  

The second way the time I’ve spent on the ward this week finding footholds for my strengths materialized into wins today was in my communication with families.  Maybe it’s the pediatrician in me but I’ve always found I have a knack for speaking with families. I think at the core of that are the lessons I learned in what we call “motivational interviewing” when I was just a young page, a student if you will in the art of medicine. This training taught me to listen before I speak, to ask open ended questions, to identify values, and find common ground.  This week, I realized the family of one of our patients had a complicated family dynamic and was calling at all different times of the day expecting to receive consistent messaging for a bunch of different providers.  It’s easy to see why that is a plan for nothing but confusion.  So I called the family and gave them an intentionally robust update then ended with an offer: if they would like to continue to have consistent, in-depth updates in the future, they could stop calling altogether and let me call them everyday at the same time, once in the afternoon. They liked the sound of that and agreed to the new rules.  I think this was a move that requires a little more of me personally, but it cuts off a process of annoyance and resentment the whole team was falling into with this family and it stops a process of misinformation and anxiety for the family who would, under normal circumstances, be at the bedside of their relative.  

The two practices here are a prime example of my definition for the term “the Art of Medicine”.  To me, the Art of Medicine means that there are a thousand different ways of getting a patient from point A to point B, a state of poor health to a state of renewed health.  On paper, the outcome might look the same, but those individual choices that a provider makes that end up being one of those thousand paths are creative decisions that are not right or wrong, they’re not binary. That creativity is something that can’t exactly be taught in a classroom, it can only be learned by a student who is attentive and invested in the work.  A student who spends time talking with the patient, not just about them. You see, unlike many other essential fields, science for us is a paint brush; it’s a means to a hopefully beautiful end. You have to train hard to learn how to use that paintbrush and you never stop learning.  But no one goes to a museum to see a paintbrush.  You go to see the masterpieces.  And every once in a while, if you take a step back when you’re practicing the Art of Medicine, you’ll become cognizant of the fact that you are helping to create a masterpiece yourself.  

The tolls:

The City of New Pork (of which the town of Brookland belongs):

98,308 afflicted

6,202 dead

The Divided Realms of Amen!-ia:

528,301 afflicted

20,554 dead

We await the miracle prophesied by the Emperor to come in the 4th month.