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delicatebarness · 1 day
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i think he knows | chapter seven
Summary: How much exactly did Bucky get from the bet?
Warnings: I'm not crying, I'm sweating from my eyes.
Word Count: 1358
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A/N: This might be my favorite chapter so far. However, enjoy, I'll be back writing on Saturday <3
Tags: @bigtreefest | @caplanbuckybarnes | @angelbabyyy99 | @mega-kittyglitter-1 | @cjand10 | @armystay89
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The room felt too small, you felt like you were suffocating with him standing this close to you. You could sense that you hurt him, his eyes lost the small glint of hope the second you said it. His head dropped, no longer looking down at you but more at his sock-covered feet. 
“I wanted to talk to you,” His voice trembled, causing your heart to sink to the pit of your stomach. You didn’t know how to feel. “About everything.” 
The memories of the weekend flooded back, causing your eyes to tear up. Here he was, standing in your room, willing to talk. You had the opportunity to get your answers, but, you couldn’t bring yourself to want to hear it. 
“I, I don’t,” you stuttered as you began to flush, trying to find the right words without hurting him more. “I don’t know if I’m ready to talk,” you admitted softly, barely audible.
When he lifted his head back up to look at you, you watched a tear begin to fall down his cheek. His eyes were searching for something in yours, you weren’t sure what.
“Come for a ride with me,” he gestured toward your window, you assumed the open window was how he entered into the room earlier. “Let me take you for a ride, I promise it will only be a ride. We don’t need to talk, just,” he raised his hand to your cheek, barely touching it, he quickly pulled away stopping himself from going too far. “Please, come with me.”
Looking between Bucky and the window, you fought a silent battle in your mind not knowing what to do. Your mind, that was telling you that it was a bad idea. If you go with him, you’ll be giving him more power in the situation. Your heart was telling you the opposite. It told you what you felt that night at The Overlook was real enough. 
Your mom’s voice began to overpower all the warning signs in your head, “If you truly want to know the truth, go with your heart. Your head will make up reasons to not do something that is meant for you” The advice she gave you on Friday night after giving you your space. 
With a sigh, you nodded agreeing to go on the ride with him. His face lit up with glee as he rushed over to put his shoes and jacket back on. You set your textbooks and backpack down in their usual spot before heading to the window. Bucky climbed down first, waiting for you at the bottom. Looking up he watched as you sat in the same spot on the ledge as he did only a few nights back. Guilt once again rushed through his veins, it disappeared as quickly as it came when he noticed your heavy breathing while you looked down at the ground. 
“I’m here,” he called up to you, bringing your attention to him rather than the hard ground below. He stood watching you, his arms pulled up toward you. “I’ve got you, I promise.” 
A promise he kept, with his reassurance you began to climb down and once you were within reach, he helped you the rest of the way. As you landed, you crashed into his chest. Both of your breaths hitched, and looking up at him you caught the remorse in his eyes. For the first time since that moment with him at The Overlook, your mind went quiet. 
~
The engine hummed below you, your mind eased while you pressed against his back again. The street lights began to turn on as you rode past them, the sun disappearing below the horizon. You could have sworn he rode down every street in the town, it felt like you had been riding for hours before he stopped the bike by the lake. The silence was deafening the second he stopped the engine.
You walked side by side down to the lake, taking his jacket off he laid it over the grass, gesturing for you to take a seat on top of it. You accepted the offer with a small smile. You sat with your knee up, chin resting on top. You could feel his gaze on you as he sat beside you on the grass. 
The silence lasted the entire time you watched the sun set completely. It wasn’t until it had disappeared that you found the confidence to speak.
“Who won?” Your voice broke, and your throat felt scratchy as if you hadn’t used your vocal cords in months. Turning to look at him, you noted a confused expression on his face. “The bet, who won?” 
“I promise you, this,” He gestured between the two of you, suggesting you and him were the ‘this’. “This had nothing to do with a bet.” He spoke with confidence, never breaking eye contact with you. 
You narrowed your eyes at him, he was giving you the truth-telling signs but you weren’t fully convinced. “Sure, getting close to the quarterback’s sister, making her let down every wall, distracting her from everything she’s worked for, taking her first kiss,” the tears began to well in your eyes again, you wondered how, how were you still able to cry. “Doesn’t sound like one of your games, at all.” 
Bucky’s expression faltered as he watched the tears stream down your flushed cheeks, he reached out, his hand hovering as he debated whether to touch you or not. “I messed up, I know, I’ve got a reputation.” He pulled his hand back, running it through his hair as he let out a breath. “But this, this is different. You’re different.” His eye pleaded to you as his voice softened. He needed you to believe him. 
“How can I believe you? How do I know that you’re not just,” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. You didn’t want it to be the truth, you desperately wanted to believe him.
“I wish I could make you understand that you mean more to me than you’ll ever know,” he sighed, his jaw tensed in frustration. “I knew you didn’t see me, for all these years, but I saw you.” He looked away from you, his gaze now focused on the water ahead of you. “I’m sorry, I did manipulate this, just not in the way you or Steve or anyone else would think.”
He stopped for a moment, he rubbed his face in his hand before back through his hair. He continued, cut you off as you began to speak. “I knew if Steve caught me looking at you, he’d tell you to stay away. I knew if he did that, you’d notice me and it was less of a risk to have you come to me than me come to you.” 
“James, I -” He looked back at you as you tried to find the right words. They didn’t come. Instead, you reached your hand out to his cheek and pulled his face close to yours. For a few seconds, you locked your eyes with his, giving them a chance to show you a reason to not do what your heart was telling you. 
He looked back at you with remorse and guilt, the kind that showed you his heart had pure intentions. They showed you just how much thinking he had hurt you, hurt him. 
You allowed yourself to take a moment to get lost in them. Until his lips parted slightly as if he was about to say something. Pressing your lips against his, you silenced him. 
The kiss was soft, bare. All the doubts and insecurities melted away with every passing second. You explored every inch of each other's mouths, not wasting a single opportunity. Your hand pulled his cheek, his fingers were tangled in your hair, and you both tried to pull each other closer. 
When you finally pulled away, a spark of hope appeared over his smile, a genuine smile. Smirk is nowhere to be seen. You both caught your breath as your hearts pounded together. 
He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. “Can I call you, Sunshine?”
---
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ofthecaravel · 2 days
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Heaven In Time
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Chapter 3: Bleeding Hearts, Angel Voices
Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka
Summary: The last supper. Or is it?
Tags: Religious trauma, hella guilt tripping/mentions of religious upbringing, internalized homophobia, sliiiiiight slut shaming, sibling fighting, slight sauciness
Words: 10k
A/N: As promised, here's the playlist, as well as the last chapter of this little series. Thank you all so much for being so sweet about it and I'm so happy you liked it!! Tell me all your thoughts!!! OH also, I'm aware that only Catholic priests really wear clerical collars, but I decided to include it because Josh is dramatic and would think it looks cute. Okay enjoy
~~
“This is it?”
“Yup.”
“Wow. Somewhere along the way you failed to mention that it’s absolutely gorgeous.”
“It’s practically sinking into the lake, Dan.”
Already crabby, Sam really wanted to be able to trash the house looming in front of them. But for all its ghosts and lonely corners, Sam couldn’t write off the fact that his childhood home (and Jake’s new permanent place of residence, apparently) was and had always been a sight to behold. It wasn’t particularly flashy with its modest white paneling having been frayed by weather and stained with mildew, and it certainly wasn’t modern by any means. However, with the silver maples conspiring around it and a lakeside view from the bottom of the hill it rested on, the house with all its flaws and farmhouse style charm was enough to make Danny’s eyes widen. 
“I didn’t know my parents had moved,” Sam noted softly, heart racing as he observed his brothers’ cars in the driveway and wondered where his dad’s station wagon was parked now. 
“I’m sure Jake will fill you in on everything,” Danny assured Sam as he parked next to Jake’s crappy Volvo. He cut the engine and studied Sam’s apprehensive expression out of the corner of his eye, selfishly hoping that Sam would call the whole thing off and they could drive off towards the loving embrace of Danny’s own childhood home just beyond the state border. He knew his parents and sister would absolutely adore Sam, but he wasn’t sure that Sam’s brothers would welcome him as readily.
“Okay,” Sam blurted, smacking his hands against his thighs and letting out a fast exhale. “Quick overview before we go in.”
“Right,” Danny nodded. Honestly, he could use a refresher. It was always a struggle to get Sam to talk about his family like this.
“Josh is the oldest,” Sam started, beginning his list of points by marking them on his fingers. “Technically. He’s older than Jake by, like, I don’t remember, a couple of minutes. Super friendly, loud as fuck, took up my dad’s pastoral duties after he got deep into the televangelist bullshit that I’m sure he’s still doing now. He was a natural, of course, given that there’s nothing he loves more than the sound of his own voice.”
“Harsh.”
“Dude, trust me. You’ll get what I mean. Anyways, you’ve met Jake. Sort of. He’s very…passionate, which you’ve seen. Kind of hot headed, very one track minded. He basically runs the whole ministry from the shadows, even when Dad was still pastor. Josh gives the go ahead, but Jake’s the organizer. He’s busy 24/7 and has been since they were, like, 12.”
“Doesn’t sound very sustainable,” Danny commented. Sam let out a laugh and shook his head.
“It is not,” Sam agreed bitterly. “But he likes barking orders and playing puppet master, so I guess it works for him. And, I mean, school and youth group pretty much taught us that there was no other way for us to live other than doing church shit all day every day, so I can’t say I’m surprised he turned out this way.”
“Pretty relentless, huh?”
“Yup. Especially when your dad’s running aforementioned church and giving you shit for doing anything, I don’t know, childlike? Or for just enjoying stuff?”
“Definitely explains why Jake was such a dick about your cute ‘fit,” Danny said. “Those values trickle down if you let them, I guess. I still don’t think you had to change, by the way.”
“I definitely did,” Sam muttered, looking down at the plain jeans he’d pulled from his suitcase and the thin flannel he’d buttoned over his chest after their backseat tryst. “Josh would’ve lost his shit. No way he’d go full ‘Ooh, look at me, I’m a man of God and that means I get to preach with corporal punishment’ route, but he’d sure as hell think about it if I showed up in those shorts.”
“Baby,” Danny lamented, heart sinking as he watched Sam fiddle with a button while wearing a sullen expression. “We don’t have to do this.”
“I want to,” Sam insisted, reaching for Danny’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “For, you know, closure.”
“Okay,” Danny relented, still hesitant but trusting in Sam to know when enough is enough.
“Okay,” Sam echoed. “Okay. Okay, let’s do this.”
Sam pulled Danny in for a quick kiss of courage, bounced once in his seat, let out a nervous sound and then threw open the door and climbed out. Danny chuckled and got out, locking up the truck and watching with adoration as Sam shuffled towards the peeling front steps. 
-
“One second!”
The voice came booming through the rattling front door after Sam had given it a timid knock to the beat of three. Almost instantly, Sam’s nerves flared with electrifying panic and he spun to face Danny.
“Actually,” Sam declared in a rushed, reedy tone. “Fuck this, let’s go.”
���What?”
Before Sam could drag Danny down the stairs and bail harder than anyone has ever bailed before, the door swung open with a melodramatic bang and then there was Josh. Danny could immediately see the startling resemblance between him and Jake, but there was something particularly unique about Josh that immediately set him apart. Danny assessed his tidy curls and the clerical collar nestled snugly at the base of his neck and knew it must be these physical differences, but he stood there puzzling nonetheless. Josh’s face was lit up with a plasticine cheer that seemed to be his resting expression, but at the sight of his deserter younger brother turning to him like a deer in the headlights, his face morphed into uncharacteristic shock. Once again, Danny stood in awkward silence as the useless mediator. This time around he had the good sense to step to the side before the situation devolved.
“Oh,” Josh said simply, his graceful hands rising to cup at the sides of Sam’s face with practiced theatrics. “Oh, praise be to God. Sammy. You’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” Sam repeated, already faltering under Josh’s fiery gaze. “Hi.”
“I can’t believe it,” Josh breathed, tears glittering in his eyes as he shook his head with wonder. “I just can’t even believe it’s really you. It is, right? Or are you some agent of the Lord sent to test my faith in His protection of you?”
“Pretty sure He’s not worried about your faith, Josh,” Sam muttered, grasping Josh’s wrists and lowering them. “I’ve been protected just fine. It’s me, I swear.”
“Thank God,” Josh blubbered, throwing his arms around Sam and pulling him into a crushing hug. Despite it all, Sam accepted it gratefully, crossing his arms behind Josh’s back and holding him just as hard. This was the reunion he’d been dreading the most, but his shame was temporarily assuaged in the comfort of his brother’s embrace.
Danny kept his silence as they hugged, but eventually Josh caught his eye and appeared to register that there was someone on the porch other than Sam for the first time.
“I’m sorry, I’m being rude,” Josh began after he let Sam go, wiping a tear with the heel of his palm and presenting his other hand to Danny. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Danny,” Danny introduced himself, giving Josh a firm handshake and smiling nervously. Even though so few words had been exchanged, Danny had to admit that it was enough to feel that Josh’s presence could quickly become overwhelming.
“Daniel,” Josh grinned, pleased. “I assure you our home tonight will be no den of lions.”
“Of course,” Danny smiled, completely disbelieving of Josh’s sentiment. “Pretty sure that was revealed to me in one of my many visions. …That is what Daniel did in the Bible, right?”
Josh’s laugh erupted out of his chest and he clapped Danny on the arm with an approving grip. Sam shared a look of surprised amusement with Danny, whose shoulders flickered with a shrug as Josh came down from his laughing fit.
“Good man,” Josh wheezed. “Ah, that’s funny. Am I right in assuming you’re Sammy’s companion in the travels I’m sure he’s had? The travels I simply cannot wait to hear about?”
“Correct.”
“I’m happy to hear it,” Josh beamed, flashing his wide smile back on Sam. “I knew this would happen, you know. That He’d send you a guardian angel to watch over you. I prayed for it.”
“I’m truly blessed,” Sam agreed, giving Danny a private, bashful smile while Josh became temporarily distracted by propping open the door.
“That you are,” Josh professed, gesturing into the house as he crossed the threshold again. “All of us are, really. Now I don’t want to keep you waiting on this drafty old porch, please, come in, come in.”
Josh went in first, flying ahead of Danny and Sam as the door closed behind them and the house swallowed them whole. 
“Here we go,” Sam whispered, nearly inaudible. Josh guided them, humming and singing under his breath as he reached to graze his fingers against the walls of the hallway lined with crosses of all sizes and finish.
“It’s going good so far,” Danny whispered back. “He likes me.”
“Wait ‘til he finds out what kind of guardian angel you are,” Sam murmured. Danny flushed and snaked his arm behind Sam and gave him a pinch on his side, only inches away from the situationally appropriate angel wings messily inked on Sam’s lower back. 
Sam bit back a muffled squeak and smacked Danny in the arm. He was ready to send another flirty whisper his way, but when they emerged in the kitchen, Sam froze up once again at the sight of Jake stationed at the stove. Jake’s hair had been relieved of its outdated ponytail and skirted over his shoulders in messy waves, swaying with motion as he tended to a pan.
“When you said surprise guests, I was certainly not expecting a surprise like this!” Josh cried, shaking Jake by the shoulder. “You drive me nuts.”
“You drive me nuts, it seemed only fair,” Jake smiled. “I’m surprised you saw me come home acting the way I was and didn’t immediately know Sam had something to do with it.”
Sam let out an offended little exhale from his nose and Jake finally regarded him and Danny, renewed tension stretching between them all as he gave them a curt, impersonal nod.
“You really came,” Jake noted plainly, gaze lingering on Sam before turning back to the stovetop, pushing sizzling green tomatoes around the skillet.
“You invited us,” Sam reminded him, cautiously approaching and watching him work. “Enthusiastically, actually. Is this Grandma’s recipe?”
“Yup,” Jake answered flatly, still refusing eye contact as the oil snapped and leaped when he flipped the tomatoes.
“It smells divine,” Danny piped up. Jake gave him a side eye that Danny honored with a nervous, polite smile, but Jake ultimately shut him down with empty air. 
“It’s all divine in this house,” Josh followed up dreamily. 
“Well, hopefully it doesn’t taste like ‘disappointment’,” Jake muttered pettily, bringing up Sam’s words from the gas station. Sam sighed and took a step back from Jake, who filled his space by moving from the pan to open the oven, poking noisily at a covered tray. 
“Come on, Jake,” Sam groaned. “We come in peace. I don’t want to fight with you anymore.”
“And I don’t want this catfish to char,” Jake countered. “Scoot.”
“I’ve scooted, thanks,” Sam frowned, taking another step back. “Why are you acting like we’re showing up uninvited? You literally asked us to come.”
“Hey, what has gotten into you two?” Josh interjected, finally absorbing his twin’s clipped tone. “We should be celebrating. And we have company, so if you could save us all the trouble of picking apart your rude semantics, that would be lovely. I mean, honestly.”
Jake let out a huff and continued working to pull dinner together, plunging the kitchen into icy silence as Sam sneered at the floor to prevent any tears from creeping up on him. Danny wanted nothing more than to hoist him up and carry him out of the house, but he watched helplessly as Josh came over to Sam and gently pulled him out of the room.  
“You two can hash it out later, okay?” Josh whispered, and Sam nodded as they crossed the threshold into the wood paneled dining room. The dining table was set with four crisp placemats, all of them centered in the middle of the table under the flowering hands of the chandelier. It was odd for Sam to see, considering he’d never known the table to be set without a placemat at the head of the table for his father. 
“Sorry,” Sam apologized, falling into old habits. “We ran into Jake at a gas station and it ended…weird. You know he can be kind of-”
“Snippy?” Josh finished for him, pulling out a bundle of cutlery from a drawer. “Righteous? Yes, he can be. Lord knows I know. He’s working on it. Been working on a lot since you left, actually. Some days I swear he out prays me.”
“When did Mom and Dad move?” Sam asked, changing the conversation while robotically accepting and laying down silverware as Josh handed it to him.
“Two months ago,” Josh replied nonchalantly. “Turns out Dad’s broadcast made its way to Nebraska and amassed a following there, so they picked up to be closer to his flock.”
“Nebraska?” Sam exclaimed, nearly dropping the bundle of forks in his hand. He swallowed the revelation with a shiver of relief and an equally strong wave of grief, no doubt felt by the lonely little boy he carried inside him. Sam realized with blank shock that there was a very good chance he would never see his parents again.
“So, what, they just up and left?”
“Yeah…”
“For Nebraska?”
 Danny walked in then, unable to withstand Jake’s angry clanging for another minute.
“What’s in Nebraska?” Danny asked innocently. 
“Our parents,” Josh explained with a weak smile. “I trust Sam’s told you about our Dad’s post preaching venture?”
“A little,” Danny lied. He’d heard plenty about what the Kiszka patriarch had been up to since retiring and passing on the torch of preacher to his oldest son: good ol’ American televangelism, complete with the incensed ramblings and an addiction to being on screen. From what he heard from Sam, this came at the cost of quality time with his family. Sam had assured him the blow was softened significantly considering they’d all been fruitlessly clamoring for his affection for their entire lives and were long accustomed to the scraps they’d been dealt.  
“I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised,” Sam laughed flatly, shooting Josh a knowing look. “Lord knows Dad has the means to afford it.”
“Oh, here we go. I don’t want to hear your conspiracy theories, Sammy,” Josh replied sternly. “I have faith that every drop of his viewer’s donations go right to the Convention.”
“Right,” Sam muttered. “Just like the college fund did.”
Josh stiffened, bright eyes suddenly cast in shadow as he set a glass down on the table. Danny’s eyebrows silently rose in curiosity. He’d never heard mention of college.
“Always the firecracker, Sammy,” Josh said with a brusque laugh, recovering with shocking speed and slipping his cheerful mask back on with ease. Sam rolled his eyes and carried on doling out glasses and napkins, but Danny found Josh’s abrupt mirth disturbing and studied him from where he leaned in the doorway. Danny had felt quite certain in his assessment of Jake when they’d met, but with Josh, he couldn’t quite pin what it was about him that kept Danny’s attention.
-
Dinner had gone off without a hitch, much to the surprise of everyone at the table. There was a bit of a rough start when a chilly direction from Jake had Danny positioned at the seat farthest from Sam, one that also conveniently faced the portrait of Jesus on the wall. But after they’d all sat down, Josh had led them in a tearful round of grace praising Sam’s safe return and then insisted on hearing every single detail of their cross country journey. Knowing that “every single detail” would send both his siblings into cardiac arrest, Sam had regaled them with only the most entertaining stories. Danny felt his heart swelling in his chest watching Sam settle into his natural element, rolling his wrists in the air and grinning like a madman as he detailed engine mishaps and eccentric motel squatters. The biggest surprise of all was Jake slowly warming up as the conversation rolled along, never contributing more than a few words at a time but eventually offering up the smallest of smiles and persistent eye contact as his little brother rambled away.
“I just can’t believe it,” Josh noted brightly at the tail end of one of Sam’s stories. “You’re so bold now, Sams. I remember when you were such a little scaredy cat too scared to get the communion wafers from the back room by yourself. Now you’re out there roughing the wilderness and pushing cows off the road.”
“Trying to push cows off the road,” Daniel corrected with a smile, remembering how hard he’d laughed watching Sam push with all his might against a cow where its herd had blocked the road somewhere in Texas. “Emphasis on trying.”
“I pushed that big one with the brown spot!” Sam argued. “You saw! He went running!”
“He felt bad for you, Sammy.”
Jake let out a snort that set them all off into their own fits of laughter, save for Sam who open mouth scoffed and mouthed threats to Danny across the table. Despite his faint indignation at Danny poking fun at him, Sam felt a great rush at the light hearted mood that had settled over the room. For a split second, he thought of a world where they could eat dinner like this on a regular basis, but he held himself back from indulging in that hope and laid it to rest in a far corner of his mind as quickly as it had risen.
Sam found it to be a wise choice when the laughter died down and Josh, completely unknowingly, killed the mood.
“Is it a hassle to find churches near motels?” Josh asked with sincere interest. “Or is it nice to settle for one day a week when you’re always driving around all willy-nilly?”
Jake let out another snort and Sam and Danny made awkward eye contact across the table.
“They don’t go to church, Josh,” Jake answered for his brother. Josh blinked and Sam bowed his head, suddenly very interested in tearing at the seedy heart of the tomato at the end of his fork.
“I suppose we can be few and far between,” Josh nodded. “I don’t think it’d hurt to peek in on a general Christian service, though. It’d do the job if the Baptist radio stations don’t reach wherever you end up.”
“They don’t want to go to church, Josh,” Jake continued. Sam kicked him under the table and Jake shot him a snotty look, raising his eyebrows haughtily as Josh turned to Sam.
“Is that true?” Josh asked, sounding a little hurt. 
“Did nobody here read the note I left?” Sam mumbled childishly, keeping his eyes down as Josh sputtered and looked between him and Danny. Danny couldn’t muster anything more than an embarrassed cough, also looking down but keeping his eyes firmly glued to Sam.
“I did, about a thousand times,” Josh insisted, shifting his entire chair to face Sam. “But I figured you’d, you know…well, maybe I don’t know.”
“I bet there’s a lot we don’t know,” Jake added, kicking back when Sam kicked him again. 
“What are you, 12? Stop it,” Josh snapped, adding his own kicking leg to the fray. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“You should’ve seen what he was wearing when I saw him,” Jake said conspiratorially.
“Jake, shut up!” Sam hissed. “You’re so fucking prissy.”
“Woah, language!” Josh scolded, throwing his hands up. “Everybody take a brea-”
“He was practically naked. From where I was, I actually thought he was a girl.”
“Okay, Jake, give it a rest,” Danny snapped, anger finally giving him the courage to speak up.
“I’ll “give it a rest” when you stop necking my brother in broad daylight, how about that, Florida?” Jake snarled, tossing his fork on the table with a furious clatter and crossing his arms. Danny’s mouth clamped shut at the same time Josh’s fell open. Sam let out a strained howl, staring daggers through his brother’s skull as Jake sent them right back.
“God, Jake, you’re so, so,” Sam stammered, insults piling in his mouth. “You’re so fucking jealous!”
Jake didn’t reply, but his eyes fluttered from the sting of Sam’s words. Sam had hit a nerve with sharp precision and they both knew it.
“What on God’s green earth is Jake talking about?” Josh asked, eyes glued to Danny where he wilted in his chair. Danny drew in a breath like he was about to answer, but they all found that the silence he gave instead was just as clear as if he’d spoken. 
“Sam?” Josh asked, a little desperate. For some reason, he didn’t sound as deeply disappointed as Sam had imagined, and certainly not as mad as he’d feared. 
“I hate you,” Sam whispered across the table to Jake, ignoring his other brother searching his face for something he’d missed entirely. “I said I didn’t want to fight.”
“Are we fighting, or am I just saying things that are objectively true?” Jake countered with eerie calm. “You don’t go to church. You dress like a girl. You’re screwing a total stranger. Anything else you’d like to add? Is he paying you, perhaps?”
Sam’s chair scraped loudly as he got to his feet and sent it banging against the wall. He crumpled up his napkin and threw it in Jake’s face before storming out of the dining room, leaving behind another frustrated cry that was cut off by the metallic clang of the front door. Josh turned to Jake with his own expression of genuine anger. 
“Do you want him to leave again?” Josh growled, glaring him down before casting his eyes on Danny. “Daniel, I am so sorry. Please, forgive us.”
Jake’s face grew cloudy and sullen at Josh’s fury, clueing Danny into whose opinion he must value most in this world. He sank further in his chair when Josh breezed past him and followed Sam’s warpath out of the home, leaving Jake and Danny to sit side by side in their private rages after the door had slammed for a second time.
-
They sat there for a very long time. Danny wanted to run to Sam (he was always running to Sam, and he thought maybe he always had been) but knew that Sam needed Josh more than him. As much as he was not enjoying this trend of being left alone with Jake, he sat with the storm cloud beside him and did his best to steal glances and collect information without Jake’s knowledge. When they’d first encountered him, Jake had seemed so eager to fly Sam back home to the nest. He’d seemed almost understanding, or as understanding as someone like him could be, but it’d spun out within seconds. Danny was trying to figure out the exact moment that had turned him into a cold shouldered teenager so desperate to cut Sam down. 
 When slyly sliding his eyes to try and gauge Jake’s expression, Danny startled slightly to find that Jake’s focus had shifted from the wall to him. When he followed the low trajectory of his tired gaze, Danny saw that Jake was staring at…Danny’s scuffed cowboy boots. From the looks of it, he was tracing the stitchings in the brown leather. Lost in a daydream, maybe? Danny considered with a note of private amusement that Jake might be looking at his boots and tucking himself into a fantasy of cowboys and fast horses. Maybe that was something he and Danny both did; escaping into an idealized reality when the one at hand was too much. 
Then, with a jolt, it clicked. The way Jake had grown cruel when Sam had defended his new look and new life, no doubt shattering Jake’s pre established perception of his baby brother. Inviting him to dinner and cooking what Danny knew were some of Sam’s favorite foods, only to spoil it all with appetite stealing jabs. How he had shrank under Josh’s disappointment. How he sat now, staring at Danny’s boots like he wished they were his. 
Like he wished he could run.
“I’m sorry, Jake,” Danny blurted. Jake jerked at the sudden sound and regarded Danny with wide, confused eyes. He blinked once before his face crumpled, perplexed.
“For what?” Jake asked, all bite gone from his voice. He sounded almost friendly. He sounded a little like Sam, actually. Danny used that familiarity to gather his confidence.
“I’m sorry Sam didn’t invite you to go with him. That must’ve really hurt.”
Jake’s expression held its dumbfounded composure but Danny could see the emotion shift from confusion to something akin to being completely crushed. He barely blinked and Danny watched his eyes fill with tears.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jake hissed, his voice wobbling slightly as his lip curled in feigned disgust. “You two are going to die out there, one way or another.”
“You must be a masochist, then,” Danny accused, continuing to find his nerve. “Because I’m willing to bet that Sam wasn’t too far off when he said you were jealous. I’m really not trying to be rude, I’m just trying to understand.”
“Understand what? Why I hate your guts?”
“You don’t hate my guts, Jake. And I sure as shit don’t hate yours.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You didn’t even give me a chance.”
Ah. There was another puzzle piece clicking in place for Danny.
“That’s another thing I’m sorry about,” Danny said honestly. “I shouldn’t have shut you down like that. It’s just - and this isn’t an excuse, it’s just an explanation- it’s just that I’ve spent the past year trying to get Sam as far away from what he was running from. And, well, you’re a part of all that in one way or another. But I should’ve understood your circumstances the same way I do Sam.”
Jake was quiet for another beat, swallowing and sniffling before letting out a sigh.
“I guess I shouldn’t have shut you down like that either,” Jake admitted. “And I guess I should thank you for keeping him safe and, well, alive. It’s just so weird to see Sam like this. He’s so…”
Jake’s lip trembled in a particularly Sam fashion and his eyes drifted off into space as tears began to roll down his ruddy cheeks.
“He’s so happy,” Jake breathed, in awe. “He was right, he was never happy here. I pushed him too hard. Josh was too wrapped up in his own crises. Our parents never gave him a second glance. And now he’s so free. He got out. You two have done so much and gone so far that it just makes everything at home feel even smaller. I guess I didn’t realize until I saw him again that there was something to ‘get out’ of.”
“It’s okay,” Danny whispered, reaching out and putting a hand on Jake’s arm. “Hey, breathe, it’s okay.”
“It’s not,” Jake wailed, fully swept up in his hysteria now. “It’s not okay. This is supposed to be a place people flock to, not run from. And, shit, if it was so bad that he had to run, you’d think he’d have the decency to at least tell me and Josh. You’d think he’d ask if...”
Danny thought he’d be more distressed watching Jake completely spin out, but he was actually pretty calm. He supposed this was par for the course in a place like this. Another holy man laid to waste by a betrayal. Another brother struck down by his brother, laying still while the other wandered. In some twisted way, there was something divine here, but not in the way that any of them wanted. Danny suddenly felt even closer to Sam, and he shivered a little with the understanding and satisfaction of it despite the gaunt atmosphere over the entire estate. He kept a steady hand on Jake’s arm when he crossed his arms on the table and buried his face shamefully, the lean crest of his back shivering with an unruly sob. 
“You should go, Jake,” Danny whispered. “I mean, you should leave, too. You can’t be happy here.”
“That’s not an option for me,” Jake laughed, his face still hidden by his periwinkle sleeves. “There’s too much here for me to leave behind.”
“Josh?”
“Josh,” Jake repeated, voice wobbling. “Always gonna be Josh. As much as I’d love to have a week to myself without having to set up a million church activities or food drives or buying a trunkful of candles, I know he can’t handle the responsibility all on his own. It’s just easier if I do it so he can focus on writing sermons and doing confessions.”
“What happened to having faith in each other?”
“He doesn’t want to handle the responsibility on his own,” Jake corrected. “That’s another thing. In all honesty, I always thought if any of us were going to make it out of here, it’d be him.”
“Really?” Danny asked. From what he’d heard, Josh was more than happy with a microphone in his hand and adoring congregants standing at the ready to harmonize with his gospels. 
Jake calmed slightly, resurfacing from his arms to rest his chin and catch his breath. His round face was still flushed with emotion and Danny resisted a very genuine urge to brush his hair back from where it lay lingering on his cheeks, kept there by stray tears. 
“Josh…” Jake trailed off, his gaze finding comfort counting the slats in the blinds. “Josh struggles. I mean, we all do, but he…I don’t know. He doesn’t tell me much. I just know something keeps him convinced that he’s not worthy of being the pastor. Which is ridiculous, in my opinion.”
“Really,” Danny repeated, slightly more somber as he thought back to his first impressions of Josh and the immediate recognition whose source alluded him. It came to him in a wave, then, along with the fond ache of understanding.
“No one is more deserving,” Jake continued. “There’s no one as kind or as devoted as him. I think it’s just the church, well, the Convention, really, that has certain ideas that make him feel…unworthy, maybe. There’s an expectation he thinks he doesn’t live up to.”
“He’s..?” Danny trailed off, testing the waters cautiously in case the conclusion he’d jumped to was entirely wrong. 
“He’s my brother,” Jake said firmly, finally looking Danny head on. “And my best friend. That’s all that matters to me.”
Danny sat back in his chair, a long held breath (of relief?) escaping his chest as his understanding of Jake finally crystallized. He wasn’t really a sharp tongued, verse slinging Bible thumper with a million little hills to die on. Jake was a man who was first and foremost devoted to his family, and he was willing to forego all of his wants for their needs. He was a brother, and he feared for how the world would treat his brothers, both inside and outside his little world. And at the end of it, he’d withstand feeling forgotten if it meant they felt seen. He had never been angry, not really. Just hurt.
“You’re a good brother, Jake,” Danny insisted, flashing Jake a smile. “You and Sam should have a chat before the night is through. And I still believe you should think about leaving. Both you and Josh, actually. There’s a lot of world you’d really like to see. Obviously it’s not my place to tell you what to do, but I do think it’d help.”
“You’re probably right,” Jake agreed. “And thank you. Sorry for, you know, everything.”
“It’s no problem,” Danny said genuinely. “I’m happy to help.”
“You are, aren’t you?” Jake laughed. “I’m surprised you’ve stuck around this long, honestly. Especially since you’re not religious. But I guess if you’ve put up with Sam for a year and not jumped overboard, you must be accustomed to some nonsense.”
“I don’t ‘put up’ with him,” Danny asserted. “It’s a privilege to get to spend so much time with him.”
Jake watched him with an arched, amused eyebrow, finally straightening in his chair to smooth his hair back and settle with his arms crossed. 
“So, what, I’m gonna wind up being your brother, too?”
“I mean…in a way,” Danny laughed, heart racing. “If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” Jake answered, shaking his head slightly. “I figured. I mean, after he hit 21 and had no dating prospects or interest in dating at all, I assumed he was gonna forgo it completely. I just guessed he was more interested in his commitment to the church, like Josh.”
“Seems they both had their reasons to stay away from girls,” Danny noted.
“I suppose they did,” Jake said with a light laugh. “And still do. But, wow, Sam really does light up around you. I’ve never seen that with him.”
Danny smiled, blushing with warmth again as he tried to recall Sam’s expression when he was around. He’d always been smiley and wide eyed when looking at Danny, complete with pupils blown wide and overtaking the honey brown of his iris while he mapped Danny’s face. Wasn’t that how he’d been before they met? Apparently not. 
“You’ve got good intentions?” Jake interrogated, nudging Danny’s knee with his own. “You treat him right?”
“I do, I do,” Danny insisted, crossing his own arms and grinning. “I sure try. He’s easy to love.”
“You love him?”
“I…yeah, I do,” Danny affirmed, certain of his answer. “I didn’t even mean to say it like that, but, yeah. Is that alright?”
“Yeah, it’s alright,” Jake smiled, yet slightly subdued. “Just…be careful, okay? At least as long as you’re in Alabama. Especially in Shady Grove.”
“I know,” Danny said softly, a little more morose. “Sam warned me about that. Another reason he left.”
“Another reason we should go,” Jake replied reluctantly. “Right?”
“Right. Believe me, nowhere is going to be perfect, but I think you’ll like the version of Josh you’ll meet when he can be himself. I’ve loved watching Sam come out of his shell.”
“I wish I could’ve been there for that,” Jake whispered, choking up again. “He’s probably out there right now telling Josh how much he hates me.”
“Don’t say that.”
-
“I fucking hate him.”
“Sam.”
Sam had bolted the second he was out the front door, but Josh had known where to find him. Ever since Sam had been young enough to start throwing the tantrums that had made him so intolerable to their parents, he always fled to the dock at the bottom of the hill. Ever the mediator, Josh had spent his fair share of time on the rotting wood planks listening to Sam vent his frustrations as they plunged sticks and rocks into the murky water, eventually advising him with echoes of affirmations he’d heard from the mouths of older congregants. But they were adults now, and as Josh sat on the dock with Sam curled into his side, he realized with a faint panic that there were no more words to borrow but his own. 
“I do,” Sam insisted, his head resting on Josh’s shoulder as he glared out over the blurred surface of the small lake. “I really do. I’m done with him.”
“No, you’re not,” Josh sighed, throwing an arm around Sam’s shoulder and rubbing his arm. 
“Whatever,” Sam grumbled. “I want to be.”
“You don’t have any kind of hate in your soul, Sam,” Josh told him. “God takes it from you and leaves you even more kind and enduring.”
“Josh, stop,” Sam whispered, sending an embarrassed thorn right into Josh’s side. 
“Stop what?”
“The God stuff. Please. Just, not now, at least.”
“The ‘God stuff’ used to make you feel better.”
“No, it didn’t. I just didn’t say anything.”
They sat without speaking for a minute. Without their voices, the rushing rain sounds of the mayflies and the hush of the surrounding trees filled the void between them. 
“You could’ve said something,” Josh murmured. “Especially if it would’ve stopped you leaving.”
“It wouldn’t have,” Sam answered. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I think I would’ve left no matter what happened.”
“Oh,” Josh said, sounding small. “Did you know that before you left?”
“To some degree.”
“...I would’ve liked to know that, too, Sammy.”
Sam swallowed a guilty lump in his throat and sulked further against his brother. 
“Sorry,” Sam whispered. “It was selfish. It’s just…I was scared if I told you, you’d tell Jake, and then he’d tell Dad, and then you’d all hatch some master plan to keep me here.”
“I suppose that’s not an unfounded fear,” Josh admitted. “Remember when Jake had his little Sunday school girlfriend? I didn’t see him for, like, three days after Dad got wind of it.”
“Exactly. And then you would’ve written up some elaborate, guilt trippy sermon and sat me down in the kitchen and made me talk about my feelings for 2 hours minimum.”
Josh laughed a little, drawing a knee to his chest against a cool breeze that rolled off the lake.
“I’m pretty predictable, huh? Goodness.”
“And that wouldn’t have worked because if I talked about my feelings…”
“What?”
“...”
“What, you wouldn’t want to hear my feelings about the whole thing?”
“Well, yeah, but it’s too late for that now. And that’s not-”
“I haven’t even told you how I felt,” Josh pointed out. 
“I know how you felt,” Sam murmured, tears searing his waterline again. “Maybe it’s you and Jake with your creepy twin telepathy, but I felt you both the whole time, even all the way out in California. It’s horrible. Some days I couldn’t even enjoy myself because I could feel the disappointment two thousand miles away.”
Josh felt tears of his own threatening to spill over hearing that. It had never occurred to him that a lifetime of observing at the sidelines would’ve made Sam so accurately attuned to his family’s emotional patterns.
“Sammy,” Josh exhaled. “It pains me to listen to this. You don’t have to feel so guilty about everything.”
“Neither do you.”
Josh bristled slightly, lifting his cheek from Sam’s hair and looking down at him.
“What do you mean?” Josh asked gently. 
“I know you didn’t want to be pastor.” 
“Well, I love it now.”
Sam pulled away from Josh and crossed his legs under him, staring out over the water before staring Josh in the eye with a look so sincere and cutting that it made Josh lean back slightly.
“It’s okay if you don’t, you know,” Sam said evenly. “It’s okay if you’re upset.”
“What do I have to be upset about?” Josh teased, pushing Sam’s bony shoulder. “I live in this beautiful little town and get to spend my days with its beautiful little people talking about what I love. Plus I just got my baby brother back. I’d be a fool to complain.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Josh, cut it out,” Sam snapped, grief fizzling into frustration. “You sound like Dad at his worst. Why can’t you just drop the act for 2 seconds and admit you hate it here?”
Josh’s eyebrows flew up and he let out a reflexive laugh, anxiety coloring his tone as it fluttered cautiously out of him. Sam looked at him pleadingly, grabbing his brother's hand and gripping it tight.
“I know you didn’t want to be pastor,” Sam repeated firmly. “I know you wanted to go to college. And I…I know you’re gay.”
Josh immediately froze, falling silent as Sam stared into his eyes and what felt like his soul. 
“And that’s great,” Sam continued on, a tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek. “It can feel amazing if you’d just let yourself feel anything. Trust me, I know. You’re not trapped here, dude. You can still go to school and be yourself and be happy. You just have to put yourself first for the first time in your fucking life.” 
Josh, struck dumb, couldn’t do anything but breathe as his heart burned in his chest and pushed up hot tears that blurred his vision of his brother. His brother, who was undressing his façade with effortless impatience that made Josh begin to wonder just how transparent he truly was. Or was it only Sam, who was part of him in so many ways, that could see how blind Josh was? When he spoke in dizzying circles of hell and damnation, were his congregants shaking their heads in pity with the knowledge that all Josh was really doing was scaring himself back into submission?
“If you’re really okay with how your life is turning out, tell me now and we can never talk about it again,” Sam promised. “I swear to God. I will leave it alone.”
Josh hesitated further, pulling his hand from Sam’s and letting out a slow breath. Looking down at the cloudy water swaying underneath them, he wondered how big of an inhale of it would take for him to sink right to the bottom. 
“You’re right,” Josh confessed, his voice as soft and as uncertain as Sam had ever heard him. “I didn’t want any of this. It’s too much pressure. And the more I read the Bible and listen to the sermons from out in Texas and Georgia…the more I lose faith in what I’m supposed to be telling people.”
“Yeah,” Sam whispered, finding respite in Josh’s honesty. “I never really believed we were all born sinners.”
“I still kind of do,” Josh admitted. “But now I’m thinking there’s no amount of trying that’ll change that. I do all of this praying and writing and confession but I’m still…”
“It’s not sin, Josh. How you feel, how we both feel. There’s nothing to be saved from when it comes to that,” Sam insisted with quiet urging. “Seriously.”
“Maybe,” Josh whispered, picking at the skin around his nails as a dark coil of shame slithered in his stomach. “It just isn’t natur-”
“It’s like this,” Sam started, trying to put something into terms that would get through to him. “God is everyone and everything. Maybe that’s something I still agree with. And when you stop dedicating yourself to trying to get him to pay attention to you, you start to see Him or whatever “He” really is everywhere. You realize that you’re honoring Him by honoring yourself and doing what feels right to you. I don’t know if that’s something we’ll get rewarded for in heaven, but the reward of it on Earth is enough for me.”
“‘Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it’,” Josh recited with a nod. “Hebrews.”
“Sure. Yeah, actually, yeah. What I’m trying to say is you should live for yourself, Josh, not God or Dad or anyone. And if you still want God, you’ll find that without even trying.”
“Did you find Him with Danny?” Josh asked quietly. “In Texas?”
Sam blinked in surprise. He’d never thought about it like that, but…
“I guess I did,” Sam breathed, a smile drifting onto his face as he thought fondly of Danny. “At the start, at least. Now it’s all just him, no capital H.”
Everything was Danny to him, in complete honesty. Even though Sam only half believed the whole speech he was giving to Josh, he couldn’t deny the divinity he felt in the presence of his boyfriend. His best friend.
“I want that,” Josh murmured. His throat closed with emotion as he forced the words out, but it felt good to say. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d expressed wanting out loud, and based on the look on Sam’s face, he realized it may have never happened before.
“Go get it,” Sam said fiercely, his grin growing wildly when Josh’s eyes lit up a little at his encouragement. “You wanna come to Florida with us? We can find you a nice, alligator hunting boy.”
“Slow down, slow down,” Josh laughed, holding up his palms in surrender. “One step at a time.”
“Just Florida, then. We’ll ask Danny.”
As if summoned, there grew the sound of hushed voices and the sound of shoes on the wooden steps down to the deck, bodies hidden by the trees and the dark. Eventually they emerged, Jake hopping down from the last step that had been laid too high, bending at the knee from the impact as long legged Danny casually stepped down beside him. Sam and Josh turned to face them, leaning back on their hands and giving little waves. Without any words, they all knew the night’s battle had blown over, and Sam reached for Jake as he sat down between him and Josh. Jake received him with a hug, both of them bent into each other awkwardly as they murmured brief apologies to the other. Josh, unable to stay out of anything ever, leaned into their embrace and struggled to wrap his arms around both of them. Danny laughed as he settled next to Sam, their knees bumping as Sam attempted to wiggle out from the hold Josh had joyfully trapped them in.
“I’m just so grateful,” Josh wailed with phony passion. “I love my family!”
“You’d hug Mom and Dad like this?” Jake asked incredulously.
“...I love my brothers!”
All 4 of them laughed again as Josh finally released them, immediately proceeding to chastise Jake in a low voice as he fiddled with the frizz his hair had accumulated. Sam teetered backwards and landed with his back to Danny’s chest. Danny took advantage of the twins getting distracted and planted a kiss on top of Sam’s hair, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment at the consolation of Sam back in his arms after the whirlwind day they’d had.
“All good?” Danny whispered in Sam’s ear, smiling when Sam nodded and tilted his head to grin up at him.
“You?” Sam asked, humming when Danny mimicked his own nod back to him.
“Jake said we can stay the night in your old bedroom,” Danny informed him, repeating what Jake had said in the conversation on their way out of the house. “But he won’t make us breakfast.”
“Fuckin’ liar, he will,” Sam laughed, reaching a hand up and lovingly stroking Danny’s cheek as he utilized his other hand to smack Jake’s thigh. “What’s this about no breakfast? You want me to burn the place down trying to make toast?”
“I’m just not babying you anymore is all,” Jake announced, smacking Sam right back. “Danny agrees it’ll be good for our relationship.”
“Traitor,” Sam complained, smacking Danny on the cheek and squealing when Danny scoffed and smacked him back. Jake let out a brash cackle and Josh a defeated groan.
“You’re like the Three Stooges,” Josh whined. “Also, coming from you, Sam? That’s a bold accusation.”
“Wow!”
“Look who’s finally growing some balls,” Jake continued to cackle, hooking his elbow around Josh’s neck and pulling him into a side hug. 
“The state of my balls are none of your concern,” Josh muttered, which made Sam and Jake let out identical barks of laughter. The three of them got whipped up into a frenzy of bickering and Danny watched with a grin and a bloom of warmth flowering in his chest at the sight. There was something being healed here, he thought, and he could almost see the misguided little boys they’d once been as they tussled and giggled on the groaning dock.
It was strange to think how differently he had felt just a few hours ago. With Sam in Danny’s life, it seemed like things changing at the drop of a hat was something that Danny was going to grow well accustomed to as long as he was around. After that night, even with Sam squirming out of his grasp to try and push his brothers into the lake, Danny knew with complete certainty that he wanted Sam to stick around forever. It was time he told him that.
-
“How was your shower?”
“Arctic.”
Danny laughed and opened up the wing of the sheets and comforters to welcome in Sam, who came rolling in with his hair still wet. He was clad in linen pajamas from his teenage years that fell slightly too short on his wrists and ankles, while Danny lay under the blankets in only his boxers and socks. Even though Sam’s skin and hair was freezing cold from the shower and dampened his own skin, Danny pulled Sam against him and struggled with the blankets to bundle them together as best as he could. 
“There, now we’re a proper burrito,” Danny smiled, kissing the tip of Sam’s nose.
“I’ve never had a burrito,” Sam whispered in a hushed, secretive voice. Danny gasped.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not!”
“Well, that's okay, we'll remedy that. Plus, they’re not half as good as this,” Danny mumbled, using his grip on Sam’s back to pull him further into his bare chest and tuck Sam’s head into the crook of his neck. “Was the water really that cold?”
“Sub-zero,” Sam promised with a shiver. “Those assholes hogged all the hot water, I bet. Typical.” 
“I’ll warm you up plenty,” Danny purred, sliding his hand up Sam’s shirt and tracing his fingers along his cool skin with featherlight touch. Sam shivered again and giggled, nuzzling deeper into Danny’s neck.
“Not in my childhood bed you won’t, pervert,” Sam murmured against Danny’s skin, which seemed to be radiating great waves of heat like he were a human furnace. 
Said childhood bed had been a source of poorly hidden smiles from Danny, who finally admitted through a smothered laugh that the entire room looked like his grandma’s room back in Florida. No doubt done up and never redecorated for the daughter his mother had been expecting and never received, the wallpaper was pale, flowery and hung with silver crosses. Picture frames held stitched psalms that sat cheerfully on the vanity facing the bed. The double bed barely fit the both of them and, as Sam admitted through laughs of his own, the sheets and comforters that surrounded them now did, at one time, belong to his granny. When they’d first walked in, Sam had felt the loving ache of being remembered upon finding that the bed had been made and the room had been tidied for his return.
“How about some sleep, then?” Danny offered. “We’ve had a long day.”
“No kidding,” Sam quietly agreed. “I’m glad what happened did happen, shockingly enough. I really thought it was going to be a trainwreck. I should’ve had more faith in them, I guess.”
“You’ve got just the right amount of faith,” Danny hummed, eyes drifting open and shut as he grew sleepy from the perfume of Sam’s shampoo and his natural sweetness. “I’m really proud of you, baby. I know that was a lot for you. You’re a tough cookie.”
“I’m your tough cookie,” Sam murmured, tickling Danny’s neck with his nose and planting a lingering kiss on the pulse thrumming violently under his lips. Danny let out a breathy groan and gently dug his fingers into Sam’s back as Sam mapped a sleepy path of kisses along Danny’s neck.
“Easy, cookie,” Danny raggedly chuckled, smoothing his palm up and down Sam’s back as he fought in vain to stave off the growing pressure in his boxers. “I thought being in this bed was a no go.”
“It is,” Sam doubled down, lips dragging against Danny’s skin as he whispered. “Just saying thank you real quick.”
“You and your fuckin’ ‘thank you’’s,” Danny smiled, eyelids fluttering fully shut as he tilted his head back and gave Sam more area to cover. “This is like that first night all over again.”
“I was so embarrassed,” Sam giggled, his breath fanning out in warm bursts over the thin layer of saliva cooling on Danny’s skin. “I thought I’d gone and fucked up the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Sweetheart,” Danny cooed, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“No, I’m not,” Sam refused, pressing his cheek into the hollow of Danny’s collarbone.
“Yes, you absolutely are, my little California love.”
“Even after today?” Sam asked, sounding more uncertain than he wanted to. “I can’t think of a single other person on Earth who could’ve sat through all of that bullshit and still liked me at the end of it. Like, I really can’t apologize enough. Especially for Jake’s crazy ass.”
“Especially after today,” Danny insisted. Sam lifted his head from Danny’s chest and looked up at him with an unconvinced sneer, their noses brushing as Danny raked his fingers through Sam’s damp waves and searched for the fortitude to say what he felt. These were the moments where Danny felt it the strongest; Sam burrowed into him with his eyes as wide and wondering as the day they’d met. This was what love was to him.
“Sam,” Danny whispered sincerely, voice low and breathless. “If it meant I got to keep you by my side for 10 extra minutes, I’d live today over and over again. Do you understand? There is nothing you could put me through that I wouldn’t stick around for. Not when I’m this ridiculously in love with you.”
Sam’s already wide eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets at that, pupils expanding slowly as a nervous smile wound its way onto his flushed face. Danny smiled at him, feeling a flush of his own beginning to heat his body from his heart outwards. 
“You’re what?” Sam asked, leaning back slightly to look at Danny properly. 
“You heard me,” Danny teased, pinching the rosy apple of Sam’s cheek. “What do you think about that?”
“I think you’re crazy,” Sam laughed, shimmying in their cocoon of blankets and limbs to readjust his arms to wrap around Danny’s neck. “And may have been dropped on your head as a baby.”
“How did you know that?”
“It’s the only rational explanation as to why you’d go and say that,” Sam flouted breezily. 
“Is it really so hard to believe?” Danny asked, making a pitiful face that made Sam’s heart flutter. “You make it very easy to be in love with you, as a matter of fact. I don’t have to try at all.”
“I love you,” Sam murmured, in awe. It’s not like he was stupid, he knew Danny had to have loved him for them to have gotten as far as they had, but it still felt entirely unexpected to actually hear it. After a year of being startled awake by Sam’s sleep talking, patiently listening to stories of the worst of Sam’s childhood punishments, even sleeping sitting up in a jail cell in New Mexico when Sam’s newfound chutzpah found purchase with a rowdy biker, there was Danny at the end of it all. Patiently awaiting what fresh hell Sam would drag him into next. 
“I love you, too,” Danny assured him. “But are you in love with me?”
“Fucking obviously,” Sam blurted. “I'm so in love with you, Danny, fuck. I didn’t realize I even had to clarify that.”
“Of course you did! How else would I know?” Danny laughed, eyes glittering with glee and relief at Sam’s confirmation.
“I thought I had made myself plenty clear when I followed you across the country with zero hesitation. Twice.”
“I guess that’s fair.”
“Also, I mean, you popped my cherry, so.”
“You weren’t gonna give that up for just anyone, huh?” Danny laughed, his freckled nose crinkling. 
“Nope,” Sam smiled flirtatiously. “I was saving it for truuue looove.”
“Is that what this is?” Danny asked softly, his smile paling with uncertainty as he searched Sam’s dark eyes. 
“I hope so,” Sam breathed, his heart racing just as fast as it did when he was still learning to look at Danny without feeling faint. “Do you think it is?”
“I do,” Danny said sincerely, cupping Sam’s jaw. “Let’s say it is and go from there.”
“Works for me,” Sam agreed, nervously tilting his chin forward and melting from the inside out when Danny met him with a fiery kiss.
Sam was no stranger to the possessive pressure Danny preferred to apply when kissing, but there was something fierce behind this kiss that left Sam feeling utterly and completely loved. Lying in the same bed just over a year ago, Sam recalled how he’d bundle the blankets into a wall to press his back against as he slept, pretending it was someone to keep him steady and wake him in the morning. He thought of how that was something he didn’t need to dream about anymore. He thought of how lucky he was. How blessed.
“I’m starting to think Josh may have been right,” Sam sighed against Danny’s mouth, now tucked under him with Danny’s loose curls tickling his cheeks. “I think you’re my guardian angel.”
“You’re the angel here,” Danny insisted, thinking of Sam’s tattoo and feeling his thighs tighten unconsciously on either side of Sam’s hips. “Never gonna let anyone clip your wings ever again.”
“I’m serious,” Sam whined, twining his fingers in Danny’s hair and pulling him closer. “You’re the real deal.”
“Maybe Josh did get one thing right tonight.”
“Speaking of Josh…how do you feel about another passenger on our way to Florida?”
“He’s going to have to share the backseat with Jake if that’s the new plan, ‘cause I’m pretty sure I convinced Jake to pack up too.”
“Family road trip,” Sam sang. “I hope your parents don’t mind.”
“No, they’ll love a full house,” Danny answered. “And my sister will love peer pressuring them into doing stupid shit.”
“I can’t wait to see them drunk for the first time,” Sam confessed with a laugh. “They’ll be fucking ridiculous.”
“I don’t know if you’ll want to see them like that if they’re anything like you were the first time you got drunk,” Danny teased, nipping at Sam’s earlobe. “I’ve still never heard you talk like you did that night.”
“Stop that,” Sam giggled, muffling a squeak when Danny kissed the sensitive skin under his ear. “I don’t even remember half of that night.”
“Your brain is protecting your dignity,” Danny joked, his voice low and warm against the shell of Sam’s ear. “You were kind of a slut.”
“Yeah?” Sam asked weakly, panting slightly from so little. Danny tended to do that to him.
“Oh, yeah. Big time. You cried when I wouldn’t put it in.”
Sam immediately slapped a hand over Danny’s mouth and shushed him theatrically, attempting to smother him when Danny laughed hysterically and tried to lick and bite at his fingers.
“What if they heard you!” Sam hissed, his wrists now pinned beside him as Danny held him down with visible triumph.
“Then I’ll apologize!” Danny laughed, jostling as Sam tried to wrench himself out from under him. “You’re the one making the mattress squeak all suspiciously. This is a Christian household, Sam, I mean really.”
“Shut up!”
“You shut up!”
“I hate you,” Sam declared quietly, sharp eyes trained up at Danny with a glimmer of mischief dancing at his waterline. Danny smiled fondly and lowered himself so their chests were pressed together. He cocked his head, looking Sam over with his hazel eyes lush with emotion.
“And I will love you ‘til the day I die, Sam Kiszka,” Danny announced, pressing his lips to Sam’s with careful appreciation and keeping them there for the hours that followed. 
In the morning, they’d clamor and argue and shed tears before pulling out of Shady Grove with a body in every seat of Danny’s beat up little truck. They’d follow the fate line to Florida to settle and heal and wander from the path like they always did. But that night, they had nothing to do but lay under the blanket of the whistling Alabama sky and love each other.
They’d find in the years and decades that followed, it never got much more complicated than that.
~~
Taglist: @holdingup-fallingsky @milojames16 @spark-my-nature @bladenotblaze @currentlyfangirling10
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triptuckers · 4 months
Text
on the bottom of the lake - percy jackson
Request: yes! "I love ur writing!! could you write something w Percy helping anxious reader?? I’ve been super stressed lately and idk this show is keeping me sane lmao" Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  you've been stressed and percy knows the perfect way to help you relax Warnings:  reader being stressed, some swearing, anxiety Word count:  917 A/N: I drew so many pjo characters yesterday I cant wait to share them when I'm done with them :) thanks for your request, enjoy!
you don't know if you've ever felt like this. sure, you'd been stressed before. but now you're losing sleep over it. and not a few hours, just nights without zero sleep at all.
you've got a big project you need to do for school over the summer. if you call, it'll be your last strike and you'd be expelled. like it was your fault you had trouble reading and concentrating.
when you arrived at camp half-blood at the start of summer, you thought some of your worries would go away.
the opposite happened.
you saw everyone around you having a good time. they didn't have to worry about some project. they slept peacefully from night til morning.
even if you can't work on your project, you're constantly thinking about it. your mind never rests.
percy noticed you've been stressed and tries to talk to you about it, but you always shut him down. it's enough to think about it all the time, let alone talk about it.
after a couple of days, percy tries again. he really wants to help you, but he don't know why.
'hey, y/n?' says percy.
'what's up?' you say, looking up at him. you're supposed to help your cabin prepare for tonight's bonfire, but so far you're not helping much.
'about your project-'
'gods, will you leave it alone, percy!' you burst out. 'I think about that fucking project all day don't you start about it as well!'
percy takes a step back and you realise it's because of you.
'I'm sorry! sorry!' you say, getting up and grabbing one of his hands. 'I'm so sorry I didn't mean it.'
you feel tears slowly starting to fall.
'hey, it's okay.' says percy softly. he reaches up and brushes a tear from your cheek. 'want to go to the lake for a while?'
you nod. percy leads you to the lake. you close your eyes and let the breeze calm you down. but still the project is on your mind. if you go to your cabin now, you could get some work done.
percy tugs on your hand and you open your eyes to look at him.
'get in.' he says, nodding his head toward the lake.
'now?'
percy nods.
'percy, I don't want to go swimming right now.'
'do you trust me?'
'of course.'
'then get in.'
you sigh. what did you have to lose? maybe a swim would be nice.
'let me get my bathing suit.' you say.
'nope.' says percy, pulling you by your hand as he jumps in the lake. before you can stop him, you're pulled forward by his momentum. seconds later, the water surrounds you.
you want to yell at him for getting your clothes soaked, but you remember you're under water. once you get your bearings, you open your eyes, letting them get accustomed to the water.
you try to swim to the surface, but percy still holds on to your hand and pulls you further down, all the way to the bottom of the lake.
good for him, he's a poseidon kid. you aren't. you can't breathe underwater. surely percy knows that right?
he lets go of you hands and swims to the bottom of the lake.
you're going to have to go up for air soon.
you can see percy sitting down on the ocean floor, gesturing at you to join him. you squint your eyes. it looks like the water is less murky down there.
you let yourself sink down to percy's level. the water is less murky here because there is no water here.
'I didn't know you could do this.' you say, looking around the air bubble you're in.
'pretty cool, right?' says percy, smiling proudly.
'why are we here?'
'I mostly come here when I need to be alone. if you sit here in silence for a while, the fish will come up to you. and I always thought the waves are soothing to look at from down here.'
you look up and watch the waves for a while. sunlight pours through the water, giving it a soft glow.
you move closer to percy and rest your head on his shoulder.
the two of you sit there for a while. and percy was right. after some time, fish start to swim around your bubble.
percy tells you about the lake and the animals and after a while even two water nymphs come to say hello. percy knows them and introduces you to them.
you sit there for so long you lose track of time. it's getting late, so you decide to swim up to the surface.
normally you would have been soaked, but thanks to percy you're warm and dry.
you stifle a yawn as percy takes your hand in his and starts walking towards the cabins.
'thank you, that was nice.' you say.
'one of the bonuses of dating a poseidon kid.' says percy, lightly squeezing your hand.
he notices you hadn't talked about your project at all when you were in the lake. and you look genuinely tired. he hopes you can get at least one good nights sleep tonight.
'want to stay at my cabin tonight?' he says.
you smile and nod. 'yeah I'd like that.'
the two of you head to percy's cabin to get some sleep. and percy had been right, you got a good night of uninterrupted sleep. you dreamt of nothing but the comfort of the lake, and percy's presence next to you.
A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit
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murdrdocs · 1 month
Text
implied skinny dipping; slightly suggestive content W/ LUKE CASTELLAN
thinking about luke, dragging you down to the lake for your usual stargazing, and then he 'subtly' suggests you go skinny dipping.
he speaks through a yawn, as if his words are the most casual as ever. as if he's only talking about the weather. "it was hot today, right? the water looks nice. should we go in?"
“is this your way of trying to see me naked?” you hope the suspicion in your tone hides your nerves.
luke laughs a bit in his reply. “i’m not trying to see you naked. swear.” he holds his hands up to either side of him, palms facing you. "scouts honor." he displays only three fingers on his right hand.
you avoid mentioning how he was never a boy scout as you squint at him, a small smile on your lips. one that exists up until luke uses his hands to lift his shirt over his head.
you allow yourself to stare when the orange is covering his face. but as soon as you see those plush lips and the bottom of his scar, you pretend you’ve been watching the stars the entire time.
luke scoffs and you assume his shirt is completely off of him by now. you keep your eyes directed up.“oh, come on. you can look at me, you know? i’m not showing any of the scary parts.”
his dick. the scary parts are his dick and that's all you can think about. you tell him as such.
“it’s all scary parts, idiot.”
he chuckles and then you hear the sound of his belt clinking. your body starts to warm and the idea of sinking into the cool water appeals more and more to you.
luke calls your name, soft and firm.
you hum.
“look at me.”
it takes you a second to do as told, but when you do, you’re glad to see that luke still has his pants pulled up. his hands are on either side of his undone belt, but the clasp of his jeans is still done.
“if you don’t want to, i won’t make you.”
he’s serious now, and him caring about you has always made you feel a certain way.
“i know.”
he lifts his eyebrows, waiting for a reply.
you give it to him by lifting your shirt off of your body.
luke whoops, a little too loud and you fear a wood nymph—or worse—a camper will find you.
you shush him between giggles. as you shimmy out of your pants. luke mirrors you, and when you stand up and begin to perceive luke's half-nude body, your skin burns. when you realize luke is doing the same for you, eyeing your body, your tummy stirs.
you've seen luke half-naked, of course you have, you two are best friends. but then he was wearing swim trunks and not the tightly fitting black boxer briefs that he's wearing now.
you've always known that luke was fit, you've seen him putting in the work to get to this point. but the low lighting accentuates his abdominal muscles. the situation makes him appear more appealing than a best friend. you being naked makes you want him more than a best friend should.
you don't realize just how hard you're staring until luke grins. "do you wanna get in the water or would you prefer staring at me?"
your eyes immediately snap to luke's face but he's already laughing at you. definitely not with.
"no, no, don't stop on my accord. keep looking if you want." he throws his arms out, holding them there as he spins in a circle.
"stop being an asshole." you try to be nonchalant, but you definitely did look at his ass when he turned around. just as fit as the rest of his body but you definitely don't care about that. nor did you really notice. (lying to yourself will only work for so long)
"hey, i'm not judging." he's turned back around to face you again and it's only then that you realize luke is perceiving you just as hard as you're perceiving him.
"perv," you throw the insult at him.
"guilty," he throws the response back.
eventually, you're both going to have to stop denying this thing between you both.
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artingstarvist · 3 months
Text
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TGCF Vol 3 (eng), Chp. 43 - 44 (First "Kiss") Part 1 / 5 (next >)
First part of the comic is finally done! I chose this scene because I know the donghua/manhua will almost certainly censor it and also I feel like there's a lot of beautiful but also inaccurate depictions of this kiss and I just wanna do the full scene justice, including Xie Lian's reaction on the beach. I'm trying to stay as close to the novel as possible but some dialogue will be slightly altered to fit the flow of the comic. I should have planned it to be more vertically oriented to fit tumblr better but hell I don't actually know anything about making comics.
CW for those who don't know where this is going: The next part of this comic includes relatively non-consensual kissing. The purpose is the exchange of air & to keep the smoke spirit from entering, but Xie Lian does struggle against it in the beginning. If this might trigger or upset you, don't read any further.
A direct novel excerpt of this scene is under the cut.
[comic panel numbers] [1] It didn't take long before his throat itched, and that cloud of black smoke was retched back out! [2] Xie Lian covered his mouth with his sleeve, coughing nonstop and choked by tears. [3] His mind raced to find another countermeasure. Even after the cloud of black smoke was forcibly vomited out, it still swirled about and relentlessly clung to his body. [4] Xie Lian pushed himself onto the windowsill, raised himself up, and leapt into the lake outside. [5, 6] With a splash, Xie Lian plunged deep into the heart of the lake. [7] He held his breath, crossed his arms and legs, and assumed a meditative position, letting his body slowly sink to the bottom of that freezing lake. Once his heartbeat returned to normal, he looked up and could somewhat make out the black fog swirling above, blocking off the surface of the water. [8] Once he emerged, he'd have to gasp in a deep breath, and in doing so, he would surely suck the child spirit into his stomach. [9] A grown man with a fulsome baby bump wasn't the least bit funny to imagine. [10] However, his leap into the water had only been meant to give himself some time to think. It didn't take long for Xie Lian to come up with a counterattack. [11] So what if I swallow it? I'll just swallow Fangxin right after. [12] He'd learned that trick when performing on the streets. [13] Although it might hurt, whatever -- as long as the child spirit could be captured. [14] With his mind thus made up, Xie Lian released his arms and started swimming upward. [15, 16] A muffled sound of sloshing water came from above, and suddenly a vast expanse of burning, vivid crimson red flooded his vision. [17] A tangle of winding raven-black locks obscured his sight, though nothing could be seen through the splashing water and schools of air bubbles.
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atinylittlepain · 1 year
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okay i have a joel request!! so yknow in the game where joel pushes ellie into the water as a joke, how about that situation with reader while they’re just playing around and reader pretends to drown or like not come back up to the surface to get back at him LOL and he’s just not happy
hey there! i love this idea, i did give it a lil of my own twist bc i like to write a very grumpy Joel lol - i hope you like it :)
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Splash
Joel Miller x f!reader
joel miller masterlist
She's just trying to get him to lighten up, but Joel is far from amused.
warnings | 18+ angst, allusions to smut, joel is a stinker
......................
“C’mon.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Joel–”
“No. We’re supposed to be on patrol, not fucking around.” She huffs, turning heel and traipsing further away from him and closer to the lake they had just come across. It’s the middle of the summer, and even up in the mountains, the heat is nearly stifling, especially as they’ve been hiking around on patrol for the last three hours. 
She kneels down at the water’s edge, dipping her hand into the lake. The water is refreshingly cool, and sends a shiver down her spine. She looks over her shoulder at Joel, who’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, a pursed look on his face as he squints at her. Rolling her eyes, she stands, dropping her rifle down alongside her as she starts to toe off her boots and peel off her shirt. She can hear him scoff behind her.
“What’re you doing?” Now bare from the waist up, she turns to look at him, enjoying his wide eyes and slack expression as he takes in her figure, like it isn’t the thousandth time he’s seen her like this. 
“Our shift’s almost over and we haven’t seen a damn thing. I’m hot and tired and I’m gonna cool off in the lake. You don’t wanna join me? Fine. You can stay scowling like that and keep watch, Miller.” Before he can reply, she’s already turning back around, shucking off her pants and underwear in one brisk tug. She hears him gruffly sigh her name, but she gives it no acknowledgement, wading out into the lake until she can float lazily in the deepest part. It really does feel good, the cool water easing her aching muscles. She tips her head back, letting out a moan of relief, her eyes fluttering shut. When she cracks one eye open, she sees that Joel has sidled up along the water’s edge, his scowl softened into a little pout as he watches her.
“Just get in, Joel. Feels so good.” She can just barely hear his grumbles as she watches him sit down at the edge of the lake.
The moment she has the idea, she knows it’s mean, cruel even. But she’s sick of him taking everything so goddamn seriously. They’ve been living in Jackson for months now, the most comfortable and safe situation they’ve probably ever found themselves in, but Joel is still acting like a skittish asshole. So, she decides that if he can’t lighten up on his own, she’s gonna make him.
She calls his name to get his attention, acting like she’s about to say something more before letting out a dramatic gasp and starting to splash jerkily in the water. He’s up in a flash, calling her name in concern. Got him. She pushes herself down under the water, sinking slowly to the bottom of the lake.
Joel meanwhile is a frantic mess as he practically dives into the water still in his clothes. He keeps calling her name, dipping under the water, but it’s too murky to see anything. Even at the deepest part of the lake, the water only comes up to his chest as he moves around, eyes darting everywhere for her. He lets out a loud curse when something brushes against his leg.
She pops out of the water with a spluttering laugh, quickly wrapping her arms around his neck as he tries to jerk away. His hands find purchase on her waist, squeezing harshly as he lets out another string of curses. She can’t stop laughing, trying to lightly shush his exclamations, but judging from the look on Joel’s face, he doesn’t find anything about this funny. 
“Oh, c’mon, Joel–” he doesn’t let her finish before he’s shrugging out of her hold, leaving her splashing back into the water as he trudges back onto shore. He doesn’t even look at her as he wrings out the ends of his shirt, sliding his rifle back onto his shoulder.
“Get out and get dressed. We’re going home, goddamnit.” She swallows hard, still treading lightly in the middle of the lake, clearly not moving quick enough for Joel as he finally turns and fixes her with a steely glare.
“Now!” She jumps in her skin at his raspy shout, quickly swimming back to land before his temper fires any further. 
It’s a very quiet hike back to Jackson, and she winces when Tommy greets them at the gate, slapping Joel on the shoulder before looking at his brother questioningly.
“What the fuck happened to your clothes, man?” Joel huffs, shrugging off Tommy’s hand and stomping off toward their home. She smiles apologetically at Tommy before trailing behind Joel, entirely dreading the groveling she’s going to have to do.
When they both get home, he still won’t talk to her, won’t even look at her as she follows him into their bedroom, watching him shuck off his damp clothes for a dry shirt and pants. 
“Joel, I’m sorry, ok? Will you please just–” he holds up his hand, and she stutters into silence.
“Don’t– just don’t.” Before she can say anything else, he’s already shuffling out of the room with a huff. She sighs when she hears the front door open and slam behind him.
She spends the rest of the afternoon helping at the greenhouses, only being shaken out of her guilty thoughts when Ellie joins her, kneeling down alongside her and the garden beds.
“Just ran into the old man at the stables. Is there a reason he looks more pissed off than usual?” She huffs, sitting back on her haunches where she had been tending several plants.
“Think I’m in the doghouse, kid. Did something kinda mean to him on patrol today.” Ellie snorts, shrugging lightly.
“Eh, he probably deserved it. I wouldn’t worry about it, though. Joel couldn’t stay mad at you even if he tried.” She sighs, offering the girl a small smile as she squeezes her shoulder.
“I’d rather not think about it anymore. What’re you up to, huh?” Ellie grins.
“Just stopping by to let you know I’m hanging out with Dina tonight. Probably won’t be home until late so don’t wait up.” She can’t help but smile at the girl’s obvious excitement, laughing lightly.
“Alright, kid. Just be safe, ok? And smart.” Ellie nods as she gets up, already backpedaling away.
“Yes ma’am! And hey, seriously, don’t sweat whatever funk you put the old man in. I’m sure it’ll blow over soon enough.” She does her best to give Ellie one more smile, but it quickly wilts away once the girl is out of sight. The truth is, she hadn’t seen him quite that angry in a long time, and for it to be over something so silly, it has her worried. It was an unnecessarily dumb thing to do, sure, but it certainly didn’t merit such a backlash of a response from him. 
She sighs, getting back to work, but she can’t shake the swirling thought that she’s really not looking forward to talking with him again.
She lingers well into dusk at the greenhouses, knowing full well it’s not because she has a particular fondness for mulch. By the time she reaches their house, the sun has set and a faint glow comes from the windows. It’s quiet when she steps inside, she can just make out the faint twang of guitar strings coming from upstairs. Not a great sign, she knows Joel tends to play when he wants to be left alone. 
As she makes her way upstairs, she takes a few steadying breaths, padding quietly into their bedroom. He’s sitting on the end of the bed, brow furrowed in concentration on his fingers lightly plucking at the guitar strings. He doesn’t even look her way, continuing to play nonsense chords. She sighs, getting up on the bed to kneel behind him. She can feel his muscles tense when she brings her palms to his shoulders, but he slackens slightly when she lays a kiss between his shoulder blades. 
“I’m sorry, Joel. I really am.” She murmurs it into the worn material of his t-shirt, pressing her forehead into his back. She can feel the push and pull of the sigh he lets out, can hear the sound of him gently setting his guitar down. One of his hands tangles with hers where it’s resting over his shoulder. His voice is low and thick when he speaks, what remains of his southern drawl muddling the words together.
“Fucking scared me. What were you thinking? I just– I–” She shushes him, moving to sit next to him, but Joel has something else in mind, squeezing her hip to guide her to straddle his thighs. Now that he’s finally looking at her, she kind of wishes he’d stop, his eyes so intensely staring her down. She huffs, winding her arms behind his neck.
“I wasn’t thinking, alright? It was stupid– just a stupid thing to do and I’m sorry. But Joel, you just– you got so angry. I haven’t seen you like that in a long time. I just feel like it was a little blown out of proportion.” He sighs, his fingers flexing into the plush of her hips as he studies her face.
“I know you’re right, but christ– I just feel restless. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, I guess. For all this to be too good to be true.” Her brow furrows and she dips her head to catch his downturned gaze.
“What if it isn’t too good to be true, huh? This is the longest we’ve stayed anywhere in a long time, hell, maybe ever. I understand, I really do. But I think we have a really good thing here, and you’re so skittish it’s passing right by you.” A deep frown still creases his face, his gaze not quite meeting hers. She starts laying smacking kisses to his cheeks, the downturned corners of his mouth, punctuating each with reassuring mantras.
“I’m safe. You’re safe. Ellie’s safe. We’re safe.” He grumbles under her ministrations, squeezing her hips, but she can tell by the way his features are softening that he’s finally starting to give in to her coaxing, letting out a long sigh as he looks at her.
“You’re right– but I can’t help being on edge. Just the thought of something happening to you or Ellie– I don’t even–” She cuts him off, tugging lightly at the curls at the nape of his neck.
“So don’t. Just be here with us, right now. Here with me.” She presses a chaste peck to his lips to seal her words, but as she pulls away, he chases after it, pulling her into a deeper kiss. They’re both a bit breathless once they finally separate, a smile daring to tug at the corners of Joel’s lips.
“Still a little mad at you.” She huffs, pouting out her lip at him.
“Aw, poor baby. Want me to make it up to you?” He lets out a breathy chuckle as she’s already slinking out of his hold, down onto her knees between his legs. She rubs her palms up his thighs and he shakes his head at her, nothing but fondness in his eyes.
“Gonna be the death of me, woman.” 
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joelsgreys · 1 year
Text
stay
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Reader
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summary: You’re in Jackson with Joel and Ellie after Salt Lake City and the loss of somebody you failed to protect haunts you and leaves you wondering if the wound will ever heal—and how you’ll ever go on if it never does.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. child death, reader takes the life of a child. (TW) implied panic attack, implied SI, reader has a moment where she contemplates taking her own life, NO ACTUAL ATTEMPT. angst, soft, caring Joel. no age specified for reader, no physical descriptions of reader.
word count: 3.7k
2024
Late Spring
Jackson, Wyoming
You’d woken up early that morning, right before sunrise.
Eyes fluttering open, you blinked furiously into the darkness of the bedroom. Your bedroom.
Your bedroom in an actual house. One that didn’t have crumbling, dusty walls.
One that was an actual, real place to call home.
As you tried to move, the strong arm around your waist tightened and held you firmly in place.
Turning your head, you saw Joel’s face just inches away from yours. He was still fast asleep, his bare chest slowly rising and falling with each and every peaceful, tranquil breath he inhaled and exhaled through slightly parted lips. He’d finally stopped mumbling in his sleep.
You’d been in Jackson with him and Ellie for just about a week or so now, and you still hadn’t quite gotten used to it—waking up in a soft, warm bed with his arms around you.
Maybe you would never get used to it.
Being careful not to wake Joel, you slipped out of his grasp and sat up. Swinging your legs over the side of your shared bed, you planted your two feet on the cold, hardwood floors and stood up, doing your best to move around without having to turn the lights on so as not to disturb his slumber. You quickly but quietly searched around, using both of your hands to feel for the thin, cotton white tank top and dark gray pajama bottoms that had been discarded, strewn somewhere across the master bedroom the previous night by none other than Joel Miller himself. He had gotten rid of them as he’d hovered over you, tossing them carelessly over his shoulder so that he could spend the next several hours learning every single part of your body, almost as if he’d been getting to know it for the very first time.
It took you a minute, but you’d finally found your clothes, tugging them on before padding your way into the bathroom where you flipped on the lights and began running the water in the sink to brush your teeth—hell, even having a clean toothbrush and real toothpaste were sweet little luxuries that were also taking some getting used to.
You finished washing your mouth and splashed a bit of cool water onto your face, drying it off with a hand towel before turning off the sink as well as the lights. Leaving yours and Joel’s bedroom, you made your way downstairs into the kitchen. Joel and Ellie were also early risers, and they would be up within the hour. Since you were up, you figured it would be nice to have a hot breakfast ready and waiting for them.
First thing was first, you started an instant pot of coffee for yourself and for Joel, although truth be told it was mostly for Joel, as the man refused to drink anything else in the mornings. As it brewed and the dark brown liquid dripped slowly into the glass pot, you moved over to the refrigerator and pulled open the door. The sight of a fridge stocked with real, proper food was almost like a fucking dream. You reached for the small basket of farm fresh chicken eggs that you’d picked up from the community’s market earlier that week when you and Ellie had gone food shopping. You set it down on the counter and looked through the wooden cabinets, grabbing a large, white porcelain bowl to scramble up the eggs in. You held it in your hands, an odd feeling washing over you.
Oh yes, this would all certainly taking some getting used to, all of it of it would take some getting used to—having shelter, running water, food and clean clothes. Not spending every goddamn fucking day fighting just to survive.
You glanced down at the bowl you gripped in your two hands, and felt your heart squeeze painfully inside of your chest.
Any normal person would have been relieved to be in this safe haven. Happy, even.
But not you, because all that you could think about was Lily, and how she wasn’t here.
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2023
Early Fall
Midwest United States
The bite mark was on her shoulder.
It was still fresh, but the clock was already ticking like a time bomb.
You knew that. She knew that.
Everyone in that fucking basement knew that.
“Please,” Lily begged you, clutching fistfuls of your jacket. “Please.”
“No,” You choked out, feeling like someone had just punched you in the gut, knocking all the wind out out of your lungs. You turned back and looked over your shoulder at Joel, who stood there with his jaw clenched tightly, his dark brown eyes fixed on the dirty floor. Beside him, Ellie was wringing her hands together, fighting back her tears. You turned back to Lily, somehow finding your voice again. “No. I can’t do it. I won’t fucking do it.��
You blamed yourself for this.
The house the four of you had chosen to occupy for the night hadn’t been completely cleared out. You should have known better than to even think about cutting corners, you should have checked every goddamn room from the ground up, twice. If you had been more thorough, you would have realized that there had been a clicker down in the basement, silent and still, that is until Ellie and Lily had gone off exploring the entire house in such of possible supplies and garnered its attention, riling it up. It had gone after the girls while you and Joel were upstairs, and although Ellie had managed to shoot it dead in seconds, the damage had been done—the clicker managed to sink its teeth into your twelve year old sister, infecting her.
“Please, please don’t let me turn into one of those things,” Lily sank down, falling onto her knees in front of you. Letting go of your jacket, she clasped her hands together in a pleading motion. “Please! I don’t want to turn, not like mom and dad did. Not like Sam did. I need you to end it here, right now before it’s too late.”
“No!” You bit out the word once again through gritted teeth, white hot tears burning your eyes. “I won’t do that.”
Joel stood there, not knowing what to say or what to do.
Hell, there was really nothing he could say or do, was there?
Lily was infected—it was already a fucking death sentence.
And while he understood that she wanted to go out her way, he also understood that you couldn’t even fathom having to do the unthinkable. That you couldn’t even think about putting a bullet in your kid sister.
“I don’t have the guts to do it myself,” Lily said, her voice trembling. “I barely know how to use a gun. Please, you have to do it for me.”
You stared at her desperate face, the first of every single fucking tear that you would ever cry for the rest of your life finally slipping out of the corner of your eye and trickling its way down your cheek.
It was what Lily truly wanted, but how could you take her life?
The child that you’d raised yourself for the last ten years. Life could be so fucking cruel in a world like this one, but this, this was something else.
Still, what other choice was there?
It was either end it now, or abandon her in this old, crumbling house, leaving her all by herself to lose her mind.
Lily didn’t want that, and if her one final wish was to die on her terms, then you had no other choice but to fucking grant it for her. It didn’t matter how hard it was going to break you.
She didn’t have another option, and neither did you.
“Okay.” The agreement finally left your lips shakily. Your heart slammed hard against your chest wall, and your entire body had gone ice cold. “Okay.”
“No!” Ellie screamed, shoving you out of the way so roughly that she almost knocked you over. She grabbed Lily and hoisted her to her feet, wrapping her arms around her. Ellie held Lily protectively against her side, eyeing the spot where she knew you kept your gun tucked in the waistband of your jeans. “No, please, there has to be something we can fucking do!” She thought back to Sam and how what she’d done with her blood and his bite wound hadn’t worked to save his life. She held Lily tighter, knowing nothing else could be done and that her name would only be added to the growing list of people that she’d lost.
“Ellie,” Joel said her name softly, the softest that anyone had heard him say it since she’d come into your lives.
Her brown eyes met his and a tear escaped her.
“Fuck,” she whispered, devastated.
“It’s okay, Ellie. It’ll be okay.” Lily placed a hand on her arm. As she did so, everyone caught a glimpse of the way it’d twitched. “I don’t have much time left,” she said, nudging Ellie. She turned to face her, and offered her an encouraging smile. “Keep on going, okay? Do it for Tess. Do it for Sam. Do it for me. Do it for the whole world. Promise me that you’re gonna make it to the Fireflies. Promise me that you’re gonna make it to the very end. Please.”
“I promise I’ll make it to the end,” Ellie whispered, pulling her into her arms one last time.
Joel looked at you as you took out your pistol with a trembling hand.
“M’so sorry,” he whispered, gently touching your shoulder. He then turned to Ellie and beckoned for her with his hand. As much as Joel didn’t want to leave you to do this alone, he knew he had to get Ellie out of there and out of the house. “C’mon.”
Helpless, Ellie meekly nodded her head without protest.
“Joel, be sure to cover her ears,” You instructed him quietly. “Even outside she might still be able to hear it.”
Joel gave a small, tight nod of his head. He walked over and gingerly touched Lily’s cheek in his silent goodbye to her before taking Ellie’s arm. “Let’s go,” he murmured, pulling her over towards the stairs. A few seconds later, the two of them were gone and the door of the basement shut closed with a loud, aggressive slam that you knew had to have come from Ellie.
Swallowing harshly, you went up to Lily. Taking her into your arms, you pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. It felt abnormally warm, a sure fire sign that the infection was running rampant inside of her—that she was running out of time.
“I’m sorry ,” Your voice broke in the middle of your apology. You held her close, your hand cradling the back of her head as she nuzzled her face into your neck, inhaling your scent deeply for the very last time. “I’m so sorry that I couldn’t keep you safe and sound like I promised I would.”
“Look at it this way.” Lily’s arms tightened around your waist. “Nothing or no one will ever be able to hurt me ever again. I’m gonna be safe up there in heaven with mom and dad and the three of us are gonna be watching over you. And Ellie and Joel, too.”
It was unbelievable. Here she was, fucking twelve years old and about to die, and she was trying to comfort you.
You held her even closer, nearly smothering her as the two of you began to cry in each other’s arms.
After a few minutes, Lily pulled away from you.
Her twitches were becoming more frequent with each second that ticked by.
“Please, let’s just do this before it’s too late,” she said, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her jerking hand.
You rigidly nodded your head, your legs feeling like jello as you took several steps backwards, leaving about six feet of distance between the both of you.
You lifted your arm, aiming the barrel of the gun at your little sister.
“I love you,” Lily offered you a feeble, watery smile.
“I love you too,” You whispered back to her before your finger finally pulled the trigger.
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You closed your eyes, your heart sinking deeply as you tried to forget the way that she’d been gone before her body had even hit the cold, hard ground of that basement.
Instead, you tried to think of something else. But you just couldn’t.
Lily should have been here with you. With Joel, with Ellie. Her family.
Not dead, buried in a shallow grave somewhere in the middle of fucking nowhere.
She would have been so happy here in Jackson.
Safe.
She would have been safe.
“She’s gone,” You told yourself, willing the fact to get through your thick skull once and for all.
As the image of your sister’s sweet smile came into your mind again, something in you finally snapped, like a rubber band that had been pulled too tight for far too long.
“She’s gone!” Your scream tore itself from the back of your throat. “She’s gone! She’s fucking gone and she’s not coming back!”
Taking the bowl in your hands, you flung it across the kitchen with all your might, watching it as it hit the wall and shattered into pieces. You turned back towards the cabinet, both hands reaching for anything and everything you could get your hands on—plates, bowls, glasses. Once the cabinet had been emptied out, you went for all of the dishes and appliances on the counter, throwing and breaking everything in sight. When you’d finally run out of items to destroy, you sank down to your knees right onto a pile of broken glass. As you did so, you noticed one particularly large shard of glass with a pointed, jagged edge.
Picking it up, you grasped it so tightly in your trembling hand that you began to bleed as it sliced into your palm.
Was it even fucking worth it?
Being alive without her?
What was the fucking point?
The guilt of what happened to Lily would eat you alive for the rest of your life, especially here in Jackson, where you were living the very same life that you had wanted to provide for your sister for so many fucking years but never could.
Your eyes glazed over the sharp point of the glass, and then flickered to the thin, delicate flesh of the lower portion of your forearm—a gun would be so much quicker, less messy. It would be painless, and a hell of a lot better than nicking a vein and letting yourself bleed out on the kitchen floor.
But if the opportunity presented itself, why not take it regardless of the method?
Still clutching the glass, images of Joel and Ellie suddenly flashed in your mind.
They were family.
Your family.
As much as you wanted to put an end to the pain, you knew with every fiber of your being that Lily would want you to stay. If not for yourself, then for them. Because that was the kind of girl she was.
So good, so sweet. Full of hope.
Everything had blurred and your mind was lost in such a thick haze that it took you a minute to realize that Joel was shouting your name—the sounds of your screaming, of glass and porcelain breaking, it had woken both him and Ellie and they had ran down the stairs in a panic.
Ellie gasped your name and started towards you, but Joel grabbed her and held her back when he realized she was barefoot. “Careful, the glass!”
“Joel, fucking do something!” Ellie demanded, her eyes widening in horror when she saw the glass in your hand and the way that you’d been looking at your wrist in something of a trance.
Joel hadn’t been wearing any shoes either, hell, he’d barely managed to tug a shirt on over his head and it was inside out, but he quickly and carefully made is his way over to you. He crouched down beside you and immediately took your arm, giving it a shake so you would drop the shard of glass.
His warm touch brought you back to earth.
“Joel?” You squeaked out his name, your heart pounding.
You felt tears prickling at your eyes, and you opened your mouth to let out a sob, but nothing came out. Your cries were lodged in the back of your throat and you felt stuck in your lungs. You suddenly felt like you couldn’t take a breath and started to hyperventilate.
“Hey, hey, hey. Breathe. Look at me,” he said. He palmed the side of your face and gently, but firmly forced you to meet his gaze. Your eyes were wide, pupils dilated. “Look at me, I’m here. We’re both here, me and Ellie. We’re right here. Breathe for me darlin,’ just breathe.”
You frantically nodded, as if to tell him, I’m trying.
It took a minute or two until finally, your gasps for air slowed down.
When they finally did, you began sobbing uncontrollably.
“Oh baby. C’mere,” Joel murmured. He pulled you up to your feet and moved you to a spot that wasn’t covered in broken dishware. He held you against his chest, stroking your hair.
Ellie joined in, and they both just held you in silence until your wails of agony subsided several minutes later.
“I’m sorry,” You apologized through little hiccups. “I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t fucking be sorry,” Ellie immediately stopped you, her hand rubbing at your back. She pulled back and looked at the blood stain on Joel’s light gray t-shirt. “Oh shit, Joel. Her hand, look at her hand.”
Joel looked down, alarmed, but he remained calm. “Ellie, go upstairs into our bathroom. There’s a first aid kid under the sink.”
She nodded and whirled around, bolting out of the kitchen.
In the blink of an eye, she’d returned with a small white tin box with a red cross etched onto the lid. She handed it to him. “Here.”
Taking it in one hand, Joel used his other hand to guide you over to the kitchen table. He sat you down and then pulled a chair out for himself, taking a seat across from you.
“She going to be okay?” Ellie asked, worriedly.
“Doesn’t look too deep, at least not deep enough to need stitches. It should be okay,” Joel stated as he opened up the first aid kit. “Ellie, mind if I have a minute alone with her?” He saw her open her mouth to protest and gave her a look. “Please.”
She huffed, but nodded. She touched your shoulder lightly and left the room, though both you and Joel were positive she’d stick around out in the hallway to eavesdrop.
“I’m sorry,” You whispered hoarsely, breaking a silence that had fallen over the two of you. “I’ll clean this mess up—”
“You think that’s what I’m worried about?” Joel asked, placing your hand in his lap as he poured hydrogen peroxide onto a wad of cotton. He picked it up and gingerly started cleaning your wound. He sighed, shaking his head. “Funny thing is, I knew you’d snap sooner or later. But truth be told, darlin’ I didn’t think this would be the way you’d let it all out.”
You stared at him. “What do you mean you knew I’d snap?”
Joel looked up from your cut, his gaze meeting yours. “I know you like I know the back of my own fuckin’ hand,” he reminded you. “And I know what you’ve been carryin’ around after what happened with Lily. That feelin’ you’ve been bottlin’ up for months now. I know what it’s like to carry that kinda burden on your shoulders. It’s heavy, and at some point, you ain’t got no choice but to put it down.” He paused. “Only, I was hopin’ you would do so by talkin’ to me, not destroyin’ the kitchen of this house.”
“I don’t know what happened,” You admitted, softly. “One minute I was down here getting ready to make us all breakfast, and the next, I just fucking lost it.” You chewed anxiously on your bottom lip. “I just kept thinking about how Lily should be here with us. And how she would be, if I hadn’t failed her.”
Joel frowned. “You didn’t—”
“I fucking did, Joel. I failed at protecting my sister. I failed at keeping her safe, alive.”
Letting out another sigh, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against your forehead. He spoke, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Baby, you can’t keep blamin’ yourself for somethin’ that was out of your control.”
“But it was in my control, Joel. I should have checked every goddamn crevice of that fucking house, because if I had, Lily would still be alive. She would be here in Jackson with us, living the life that she always deserved to live.”
Joel leaned his forehead against yours. “Look, I know that nothin’ I say is goin’ to make it better. Nothin’ I say is goin’ to bring her back and m’sorry,” he said. “But you need to know that it wasn’t your fault. You did the best you could. I know that her bein’ gone hurts. Trust me I know that feelin’ all too well.”
Another tear slipped down the side of your face and he reached up, lightly brushing it away with his thumb.
Of course he knew the feeling.
The scar on his temple was a testament of how well he knew that feeling, of how he knew exactly what it felt like to want to end it all after losing someone so precious.
Only, he had actually tried to end it all.
Joel’s voice broke into your thoughts. “I need you to know that you’re not alone, baby. You ain’t gotta carry your grief alone. You’ve got Ellie, and you sure as hell got me. We’re both here to help you through anythin’ that you need, alright? We’ve got you—I’ve got you.”
“I know you do.” Your voice broke once more and you swallowed back another sob.
Joel brushed his lips against yours. Sitting back into his chair he lifted your hand and inspected it thoroughly. “Don’t think there’s any glass in it,” he observed. He started bandaging your hand with a roll of gauze from the first aid kit.
“Thank you, Joel,” You murmured as soon as he had finished patching you up. “And I’m sorry. Not about the mess, but about what I thought about doing.”
Joel reached out, cradling the side of your face. His thumb grazed the soft skin of your cheek. “I need you to stay, baby,” he whispered, his own voice thickening with emotion. “Me and Ellie, we both need you to stay. You understand me?”
You placed your hand on top of his, nodding as your eyes met his once more.
“I’ll stay,” You promised him.
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servicpop · 5 days
Note
AUGH THE COWBOY FIC WAS SO FUCKING CUTE FHSHJSBUSKFDSKUS I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!!!!! OUUUUUU
I ALREADY HAVE ANOTHER IDEA FOR THEM!!!! so the reader eventually has to get to the next town for a week or two for a series of shows, reader tells Cole where he’ll be and where he’ll preform so Cole can send him a letter if he’d like. Cole obviously send a him letters and reader writes back every time. But one day Cole doesn’t send reader a response and this makes him think Cole lost interest for some reason, so readers moping around and complaining about it to other show girls until Cole shows up at the place their preforming. Reader spots Cole in the crowd and gets excited immediately and the rest of the show he has a wide smile up until he can go out and talk to Cole who has flowers for the reader!!!
THIS CAN END FLUFFY OR SMUTTY OR BOTH IDC I JUST LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH YOU DONT GET IT IM CRAZY RAH :3
-🎱
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✶ ﹑ㅤletters & flowersㅤ﹏
NOW STARRING : Cole the cowboy x 'showgirl' m!reader
「ㅤSFW & NSFWㅤ」ㅤhalf is sfw and half is nsfw (the nsfw part will be separated and labelled as nsfw!)
✙ NSFW warnings — sub!top cole, dom!bottom/power bottom reader, cole is a virgin, riding, tummy bulge, cole is more vocal than reader, first time
notes ,, go to part one if you haven't read it already! Not proofread !!
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You were able to extend your stay at Pinecrest just for a little while, and during your time here you were able to meet so many people and learn so many things about agriculture, farming, taking care of animals, and you even got to meet the local dog, Scout. More importantly, you were able to spend more time with Cole. He took you out almost every night to go sightseeing, taking you to his favourite spots whether it was in the mountains or by the lake. He even taught you how to ride your own horse and named her Taffy after you; since you were so sweet.
Nothing could've replaced those star-filled nights where it was just you and Cole with your horses, Taffy and Spirit, enjoying the cool breeze and endless conversations that seemed to meander. However, you were a busy man, especially while being in the entertainment industry you didn't have time to stick around forever. You could feel your heart sink just a little bit when your manager had announced that another show would be held in the next town for a few weeks. Of course you enjoyed your line of work, you loved performing, loved being on stage and hearing the cheers of others, but you also loved Cole's company. You knew that Cole had a role here at Pinecrest and it would've been selfish of you to ask him to come with you. But, it wasn't like you were going to keep this whole ordeal a secret from him.
"Cole?" Your voice seemed to break the silence; his head turned to look at you, "Yeah?" Cole's voice was warm, and gentle with a hint of ruggedness like honey dripping over gravel, and the way his eyes glittered when they met yours was enough to make your legs weak under the eye contact, causing you to splutter when you decided to speak again. "I– I have to leave tomorrow, I got another show I need to do at the next town," You mumble, shying away from his entrancing gaze. The cogs in his rusty little brain were visibly turning as Cole stared at you blankly with his lips parted like he was trying to comprehend your words. You can tell it finally settled in his mind when his face deflated like a sad puppy, "You're leavin' sugar?" His voice wavers as he stared at you; the fingers that were once tracing the rim of his glass paused, and the bartender took this moment of Cole's sad expression as a cue to refill his cup with root beer.
Oh, you couldn't do this to him. It was almost like kicking an abandoned puppy on the side of the road — totally cruel. You proposed the idea of sending letters and his sad puppy expression lifted just a little. Fishing in your bag you pulled out a flyer of your next show, sliding it across the counter so he could keep a copy for himself, "Here, send them to this address," you tapped the words in bold that say where you were performing. Cole — of course — takes the flyer eagerly, scanning over it to mentally note down the information written on it, "I'll definitely be sendin' you letters honey," Cole smiled with his dimples peeking through. He picked up his glass of beer and placed it between his lips to take a swig before he started blabbering about whatever came to his mind, a common habit of Cole, and you were always keen to listen to his rambles. You could listen to his voice all night long.
Unfortunately, Cole's most dreaded day came when you had to leave for the next town. He most definitely was one of the first people to wake up at the crack of dawn to catch you before you left, pressing a light, lingering kiss on the back of your palm as if you were a prince and he was nothing but a humble knight. After the townspeople waved you off, you and your fellow performers left via the vans. It was approximately a four hour ride, it would've been quicker if you took the train but your manager insisted to go by car for the scenery. You felt yourself missing Cole more than ever, more than anyone else that you've met and being in multiple towns and countries, you've met alot of people.
Your show was held over four days with a one day break in between and a few free days to explore the area — a total of one week and 3 days. As promised, after settling down in the new town, you received letters every morning from Cole. They usually contained heartfelt messages about his day, his animals, what he ate for every meal, some local gossip, and of course expressing how much he missed you. He even signed every letter with small doodles of what you assumed to be him and Scout. Sometimes, he'd even attach small poloroids of himself usually with Taffy and Spirit in the back. Every night when you had time to spare you scavenged your hotel room for a spare piece of paper and a pen, writing back a response with your signature and some doodles that were definitely not as good as Cole's. It's corny, but you kissed the envelop after sealing it before sending it off back to him.
One day after your 2nd show, you stopped receiving letters, and it really messed up your mood. Did Cole lose interest? Had he found someone better than you? Was it because you were away? All these thoughts ran through your mind and you found yourself slumped at the vanity, complaining and whining to the other showgirls on how you felt like he didn't like you anymore. Knowing how supportive the girls are, they always attempted to comfort you, patting your back and reassuring you that he might’ve just not had any time to write back, that he was busy tending the cattle and whatnot. But no matter what they said, that feeling if a pit in your stomach lingered for the 3rd show. Your aura wasn't the same, your energy wasn't the same, you couldn't perform as well as you did the first two shows.
But suddenly, you felt a strange, familiar pair of eyes staring at you from the crowd. Mid dance, your eyes scanned the sea of people and caught on that dear smile that seemed to light up even the darkest of nights. Cole. That stupidly charming cowboy was nestled in between the bodies of others looking at you. Just you with those eyes filled with admiration. Your heart skipped a beat — or multiple — and you felt your lips involuntarily curl up into a smile.
"That's it. That's the smile I love."
With a new-found burst of energy, your limbs no longer felt sluggish and that fake smile was replaced with a genuine one. All of the sudden, the spotlight seemed to focus on you, highlighting the sequins that glittered on your costume and your bright smile. The other showgirls seemed to notice your change in mood and they all shot you small smiles, watching at how your hips swayed with the beat of the music and how your dance lightened up the atmosphere. You couldn't wait to see him.
Once the performance ended and you and the other performers bowed, you immediately ran out into the crowd, searching frantically for Cole but no matter how hard you looked and pushed through the people, you couldn't find Cole. Your feet picked up in speed as you ran outside, looking around to find Cole leaning against a streetlight with a bouquet in his hands. "Hey," You huffed, catching your breath from all that running around. "You were— amazing, sweetheart," Cole smiled, extending his arm out for you to take the bouquet of dasies, "U–uhm, the daises are hand picked if— if you were wonderin'." From the way he was stuttering over his words like a highschool boy confessing to his crush, and how his eyes focused on anything but your face, you could tell he's never given flowers to anyone in such a romantic way. They were beautiful, all thoughtfully placed together to make the bouquet aesthetically pleasing with a white ribbon tied around the stems with a small bow. You took the bouquet before wrapping your arms around Cole in a warm embrace. He didn't expect you to hug him so abruptly but he for sure did not complain, taking only a second to return the hug, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I've never seen you smile so wide before darlin,' were you excited to see me?" Cole chuckled, keeping your face pressed against his cheek as he tangled his fingers through your hair. A small laugh escaped your lips too as you teased back, "Don't get ahead of yourself now."
After catching up a bit on the way back to your hotel, you found out through Cole that one of his cows gave birth to an adorable baby he named 'Choco' from its brown coloured fur. He really did have a quirk in naming animals. Once back, he helped you find a vase for your daisies, filling it up with water before carefully plopping your flowers in them. You flopped onto the bed, bouncing slightly from how plush the mattress was, and Cole followed shortly, laying right beside you. As you laid on the bed with your eyes staring up at the white ceiling, you felt a hand tangle with yours, turning your head to meet Cole's grin and his hands holding yours tightly. "Thanks for coming tonight," You were more than happy that he actually took the time out of his day to come all the way here to watch you perform again, "You know I'd do anythin' for you sugar," He cooed, squishing your cheeks between his fingers before he brought your face to his, giving you a small peck on the lips. You always loved how soft and gentle Cole's lips felt agaisnt yours, and they always had a faint taste of strawberries on them.
"That's too corny,"
"You want corn? We can go to the corn fields sometime if that's what you want"
And that earnt a pillow straight to his face.
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One kiss turned into two, maybe three, with you leaning over Cole's body while he was still laying down. His arm snaked over to hook around your waist, pulling you closer to him and tangling his legs with yours. As he presses his body agaisnt yours, you felt him poke at your thigh. He was excited, something that you didn't expect from sweet little Cole. He seemed to notice and it was evident through the blush that creeped up his neck, "S–sorry... it's instinct y'know?" His words stumble over eachother and he brings a hand to his face, hiding behind the comfort of his palms as embarrassment ate away at him. It was adorable! This guy being such a flustered mess just from a few kisses and you haven't even done anything that intimate yet.
You reassure him, obviously; you tell him that it's natural and that it's okay to react this way. But then it strikes you. He seemed so inexperienced, so shy about everything. Was Cole a virgin? "I've never done anythin' like this before... I've never felt this way about someone else," His usually loud and confident voice was now reduced to a soft, nervous whisper. He shuffled slightly, pulling you up and onto his lap, his eyes glittered with nervousness and excitement, "D'you think you could show me a thing or two?" Damn. The way he's looking at you with pure love and sincerity made your blood pump faster from how quick your heart was beating. You've been dying for this too, so why not?
You helped him undress before following shortly after, discarding your clothes somewhere in the hotel. He was surprisingly big— like really big. His pretty pink tip was already glistening with pre-cum from the previous kisses and he had a prominent vein that ran down the underside of his cock that was bound to be a sensitive spot for him. Cole was also more built than you expected, he had toned muscles that were most defined in his arms and he had pretty big pecs. They were like pillows, you'd have to convince him to let you sleep on them later. Cole refused to look you in the eyes while you rummaged the beside drawers for lube. You put a generous amount on your palm before placing the bottle down and turning to face Cole, who was trembling like a little mouse.
"Relax," you cooed, wrapping your lubed up hand around his shaft, pumping slowly to coat him. His body physically jerked once he felt the cool substance around his cock, and a low whine slipped from his lips. Cole's breathing became more heavy as you slowly stroked his length, his eyes fluttered with every movement. Once you deemed that to be enough, you slowly moved to hover over his lap and Cole's hands immediately went up to grip your hips for stability. You knew this would hurt; you weren't properly prepared but you didn't care that much. Slowly, you sunk down on Cole's cock, feeling the slight burn as you bit back small whimpers. "You okay sugar? 'Mnot hurtin' you am I?" Cole grunted, his fingers gripping your hips even more, guiding you down his length. He was concerned, yes, but he also couldn't help from twitching inside you.
"I'm fine," you replied with a small huff once you were able to take Cole in fully, relaxing a bit so you could get used to his size. Cole on the other hand was certainly not relaxing. You could almost see the muscles on his arm tense and he had this unfamiliar look in his eyes like he was desperate for something, any sort of movement from you. After awhile of just silence and stillness, Cole's resolve finally caved in, "Oh, please sweetheart, please move. Anythin'! I need to feel you, please," he whined like a little puppy, staring into your eyes as if he was going to die if you didn't give him any sort of relief. But that wasn't any fun now was it?
You leaned down, your hips rolling slightly in accord to your movements, and pressed a honeyed kiss on the outer corner of Cole's lips. That little movement with your hips almost made Cole cum on the spot. "You can't do that t'me," Cole's eyes gleamed over with tears, dampening his eyelashes. All wet and pretty. He swore he'd actually start crying if you didn't move. "Alright, alright, sorry," you apologised but didn't really mean it — he was so adorable begging you just to move. But, you weren't that cruel. A string of 'thank you's poured out of Cole's mouth as you rocked your hips rhymically, grinding down on his cock. His head tilted back against the silk pillows, his brown hair cascading across the pillowcase like flowing water. Cole's lips were slightly parted, and his chest rose and fell intermittently, some breaths short and stuttered, while others were deeper.
"It feels so good," Cole muttered out between pants. His voice was nothing short of a whiny mess mixed with a few moans and grunts. You lifted yourself off of him, almost lifting completely off of him before dropping your hips back down, earning a muffled whimper from you and a loud moan from Cole. He was undoubtedly alot more vocal in expressing his pleasure. His eyes opened with heavy eyelids, as he looked up at you; you could practically see the hearts in his eyes. Cole's gaze flickered down to your tummy and his mind went blank when he saw the small bulge in your stomach, "Oh mercy," he breathed out, his hand moved to touch your stomach, "You're gonna be the death of me if you keep— hah, keep teasin' me like this."
Your mind was just as lost as Cole's with the way his dick was able to reach your prostate so easily. It drove you crazy; his cock angled perfectly to hit it over and over again with each bounce. Your own neglected cock was sliding along Cole's happy trail, the warmth of his body made you twitch everytime you grinded your hips. "I'm— im close, so so so close, please— please let me cum." Beads of sweat rolled down Cole's temples and his forearms flexed, digging his fingertips into your hips hard enough to leave an indent — he was careful not to use his nails, Cole would never want to hurt you. "Im—" Cole sat up from his laying position, enveloping you in his arms and buried his face in the crook of your neck, needing something to hold onto while he orgasmed. His moans were muffled by your neck as his thigh spasmed faintly while he spilt his seed inside of you, filling you up to the brim. Your own orgasm followed after his, coating his abs with your fluid.
You two sat in the comfort of eachothers arms and the sound of your heavy breathing; your own arms were lazily draped over his shoulders with one hand stroking his hair. "When's your next show?" Cole asked, moving his head off your shoulder to look at you, "The day after tomorrow, but I have rehearsal tomorrow morning," a small pout spreads across Cole's lips as his eyes flicker to loon at your thigh instead. "Do you think you can walk properly tomorrow?" "Oh right..."
Bonus ♡
You winced as you settled down into the chair infront of the vanity. A few of the showgirls walked up to you, noticing that something was off, "You okay honey bun? You seem to be in alot of pain today," one of the girls ask, placing a comforting hand on your back. "He obviously got some action last night with that cowboy guy." "No I did not!" "It's obvious in the way you're limping sweetie."
Cole on the other hand, was still soundly asleep in your hotel bed, curled up with the blanket he stole from you during the night.
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a/n ,, Cole oh sweet Cole . To be honest ,, I'm still not used to writing smut . I guess it's because I'm trying my hardest not to make it sound off or weird ,, maybe I'm just immature . The word cock sounds funny to me . Anyways !! I kinda rushed the smut . To be fair my main focus with Cole is how he's an innocent n' sweet guy but ya know ,, nsfw is what gets people going these days
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auroraborealyss · 2 years
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𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬' 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬.
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⊹ pairing: morpheus x reader
⊹ summary: how morpheus, dream of the endless, the king of dreams, or as you know him: your love, expresses his love
⊹ warnings: some explicit language, but mostly none (however my inputs are slightly out of control in this one—case and point: this note)
⊹ word count: 3107
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𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 you are talking to the king of dreams. the Endless who's responsible for seeing what people dream about, what they're scared of, and managing it. this is also the same Endless who thought it would be a fun idea to put his power into three of his favourite things. of course gifts is going to be his main love language
as the lord of dreams, of course his first instinct is to give you whatever you want. to create whatever you wan. he genuinely finds pleasure in creating something himself to give to you
(dare i say a kink)
has definitely fashioned a dream after you. whatever impact you have on morpheus (make him warmer, kinder, see the beauty in humans and their short but well-lived lives, etc...), that dream because that for others
no need to buy new clothes when he can just make you whatever you want
you want the top half of that one dress but the bottom half of another? check your closet.
you want the new book from your favorite author but it doesn’t release for another six months? check your mail.
you want that chocolate that was discontinued? check your cabinets?
even if you’re not in the palace of the dreaming at all times, he insists that you live in one in the waking world. so he buys/inspires an architect to make you your dream apartment/house
if its an apartment and you live by yourself? still gets you a three bedroom for no fucking reason other than he wants you to be comfortable. there used to be a hill that blocked your window? your architect was inspired to demolish it. you want it back? your architect is inspired to build one
if it’s a house, insert lazy river (honestly, if i had the money to waste and spend, i’d get one for myself. alas, the only lazy river i get is when my sink overflows) cue to you casually floating on a donut floatie while reading a book, doing laps around your house over and over again
if you do a form of art, you’ll get a room dedicated to it. a library. a painter’s studio. a photography room. sculpting nook. all of it and more.
there is nothing you could want that he could not give you
and never ever bring up money unless you want a mysterious and rude amount of money deposited into your account to wake up to
he'll also go to great lengths if you need a particular item (exhibit a: him going into the lake to get gifts for the fates. he did all that for his items, so imagine what he'd do for you)
but you want to know what the best gift he gives you?
his coc
𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗰𝗲 this man will be begging for you to let him do things for you. in this essay—
(did you see the calliope episode? because that part of episode 1.11 is basically exhibit b for this section)
someone said something mean to you? bam. they will be plagued by nightmares of someone he loves saying those things to him until he dies.
if you’re a better person than him and won’t let him mentally torture people for as long as he likes and thinks they deserve, he’ll omit telling you that he’s torturing people. what you don’t know, won’t hurt, right?
but if you’re flirting with the line that is morally good and you do consent to letting him torture people, he might show you his progress on them and their decaying sanity
“look at what i have done with the love i have for you.”
you still get nightmares when you sleep, not because he wants to hurt you, but because nightmares can actually help you. dreams can inspire us to be better, but so can nightmares. for example, being visited by a nightmare that shows you your fear of failing that test makes you wake up and be motivated to study. what he does do for you is restrain the nightmares? he lets them scare you enough to act as a motivator, but not extremely that you are crippled with fear and anxiety
protective morpheus (currently sobbing)
when you wake and leave the Dreaming, he’s gone but there’s always a cup of coffee with you
acts of service also include making others do acts. rather than get a phone, forces matthew to carry messages between you and him instead.
if you're studying and need information on something, he'll have lucienne prepare a stack of books, and maybe even notes, for you to see to when you return to him in the Dreaming
but the biggest act of service he can do for you is meet your friends
lets you drag him to parties and dinner and brunches
might not socialize (probably will not), and you might find him standing in the corner becoming a shadow, but he won't bother you to leave until you want to
he'll watch you the whole time
takes care of your drinks (and everyone else's)
or, he might follow you around like a shadow. no matter who you talk to, he'll be standing beside you, an arm around your waist
if you're a social butterfly, he admires that about you
if you're more socially introverted, he'll hang out with you in the shadows and leave when you want to, even if you've only been there for five minutes
basically he's a simp—and he might actually proudly admit to being one because who's the one who's dating you in the end?
𝗽𝗵𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 before his confinement, he wasn’t the most physical person. he wouldn’t pull away, but he didn’t reach for you either, though he always secretly liked it. after his imprisonment, he begins to reach for you. not just that, but he begins to crave your touch. touch is how he reminds himself that he is with you, you are with him, and that he is free
in public, it’s limited but clear that you’re together
the last thing he needs is hearing matthews’ teasing squawks in his ear about morpheus being the endless version of a cat
when lucienne catches pda, she’ll at least be respectful and dignified and not comment, though she will be grinning like a cheshire cat and her eyes will keep looking
your arm around his when walking around
his hand on your back
then your lower back
brushing your hair out of your face
sitting close enough for shoulder and legs to touch
standing close
(once again, I bring up the calliope episode—someone stop me from rewatching that over and over again)
did you see how close they were standing? then, when you thought they were close enough, he takes an even closer step? that. THAT.
whatever concept you have of personal space, a personal bubble, this man is inside it. yes, your arms might be linked while walking. but your sides will be pressed together.
and while it might appear that you're the one who links your arms together, he is the one who already has his elbow slightly bent and held out towards you
when you do hold hands, his thumb brushes over your skin absentmindedly, as if feeling your warmth isn’t enough and it’s a constant reminder of him that you’re there
but when you do the same to him, or gods help him, you squeeze it, he, with every fibre of his being, will feel it and nearly stop from the overwhelming feelings that threaten to send him to the ground
so keep it sparingly
...or not
kisses in public..truthfully, he's probably leaning towards no. full on make out sessions? probably not. when you guys are saying goodbye, i’m seeing more of a tight, slightly awkward dip of the head—a farewell not
but, bringing that calliope episode up once again, he won’t don't anything if you were to initiate it.
kiss on the cheek? you better hold that position for a few fucking seconds so you can let that man close his eyes and savour the intimateness that is the feeling of your soft lips against his cold cheek.
why don’t you press your forehead against the side of his head while you’re at it? you know, when you’re done kissing him but before you pull away. think of it as giving him a few seconds to revert back to cold, formal morpheus, dream of the endless, and not your boyfriend/partner
stares at you when you’re not looking
stares at you even when you're looking
stares down at you when you're asleep in his arms
stares up at you when he's down on his knees between your—sorry, wrong fic
imagine those intense eyes just looking at you and not looking away, not ashamed at taking in the beauty that is his partner
he has no qualms when someone is staring at you, because how he can be blame them
but he does have qualms when their gaze turns into a leer. that's when he'll send a couple nightmares their way for a few directions. not to mention, he'll turn his gaze from you to glare them down, and because they have now deprived him from admiring you for the few seconds this last, he blames it on them and gives them a...gift (and a visit to desire if he finds out they had something to do with it)
on the rare occasion that he's actually using his throne and sitting on it rather than dramatically sitting on the steps after he spread his coat out around him, he might let you sit on his lap (nothing more...in public)
not straddling him—god no—but sitting horizontal so your legs are over his lap and your side is against his chest with your arms around his neck and his arms around your waist
he does that when he needs to relax
he might whisper his problems and insecurities in your ear
but in private—in private—this man is draped over you
he’ll be like a cat who actually likes his owner and will curl up on you
if you’re cuddling, you’ll lie with your head on his chest and his arm around your shoulders, maybe playing with your hair
he may or may not use a bit of his sand to help you sleep if you’re having troubles entering his realm, but with him drawing random shapes on your skin or the steady rise and fall of his chest, or, if you're really lucky, he's reading aloud in that quiet, low, asmr voice of his, you're gone all too quickly
he always feels a bit stiff when the cuddle session begins, but after you lie down on him long enough, his limbs soften before gripping onto you tighter
but back to that no-such-thing-as-a-personal-bubble with him
walls
bringing into evidence, exhibit c: episode 1.03 with johanna constantine
why does he have to be so physically close with everyone (that isn't me)
likes to walk you backwards until you hit a wall
once you hit that wall, he may or may not take an even closer step
then closer
and even closer, but his arms are still in his pockets because he's cool and edgy like that (and intimidatingly hot)
close enough until he's kissing you
then he'll press against you to be even closer
we can unpack the trauma that being separated from everyone he loves for 100 years and being physically separated by a wall of glass some other day. for now, enjoy his closeness
because basically, close is still too far for him
𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 not 24/7 hanging out, because he is the king of dreams and he has a realm to run, but he does spend his time with you wisely, and just because you're not with him all the time, doesn't mean he isn't thinking about you all the time
his favourite thing is the two of you being in each other’s presence but working on your own things. he appreciates it more than he realizes, and during the times you sit to the side as he makes new dreams, he’ll sometimes put aspects of you in them—intentionally or unintentionally
when you aren't together, he'll still be consumed with thoughts of you
he thinks of you all the time, actually. and because of that, he also talks about you all the time, sometimes subconsciously. and sometimes with no reason at all—or perhaps the only reason he needs to bring you up is because you're you and he's in love with you
"y/n did extremely well on her project, did you hear?" "did you hear about my report on the rogue nightmares, sir?" matthew asks. "she worked very hard on it. i'm proud of her."
thinks about you when doing research in the library with lucienne
wonders about you when going on walks with death
mentions you on dinners with hob
dates with him doesn't have to be the most exciting thrilling thing. in fact, he likes living in domestic bliss with you. doing dishes together. helping you with laundry. watching a movie. people watching. walking your pets.
he usually leaves you alone when you’re awake and uses that time for his duties while you’re busy doing awake things anyway, but when you do fall asleep and are in the dreaming, that’s when the two of you are always together, stuck at the hip (and we're back to the closeness)
takes you out to dinner everyday where he listens to you talk and rant about your day and give you suggestions. he eventually does the same with you, and you become the first person he goes to whenever he needs consultations for his problems
insert jealous hob when he finds him and you eating and morpheus actually talking to you and not just sitting there quietly like with him
but hob gets over it (he doesn’t) and sometimes he’ll join dinner with you guys.
family dinners in his realm with you, hob, death, lucienne, marvin (and only because you invited him), matthew (though morpheus gives him a dog bowl rather than a plate)
during the moments the two of you are together, he treasures and cherishes it
and during the moments when it's just the two of you together, he'll definitely make it worth both your while
drawing it out (if you know what i mean)
and i mean, teasing you for hours and sessions that go until you wake—
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ha no. did you see how emotionally constipated this man was? how he can't tell calliope he still loves her, admit to hob that they're friends, and ask for help from death? words are not the dream king's weapon
the most you get is a term of endearment, like my love or my beloved
always 'mine' though
but this Endless is not about to spout off a pride and prejudice speech at you, so don’t bother waking up early and going for a hike. just sleep and hang out with him in the Dreaming instead in silence
however he does have a beautiful voice—one that as his partner, you are allowed to take advantage of. cue making him read pride and prejudice at you (especially that speech: “you have bewitched me, body and soul, and i love…i love…i love you. i never wish to b parted from you from this day on.”) you with his head on your lap, him sitting against a tree with the branches over the both of you for some shade. one hand is holding up the book, the other is absentmindedly twirling your hair. when he finishes the line, he looks down at you, slightly amused but completely enamoured, especially at the giddy expression on your face, and he dips down to kiss you
he tells you that he inspired jane austen to write that speech for you—it’s up to you if you want to believe him or call it bullshit
while he might not be giving love confessions every three seconds, he does give you compliments. and not just when you do something that warrants a compliment, but randomly. because to him, everything you do is majestic and needs to be acknowledged as so
"you're beautiful" when you're in casual clothes, sweats, pyjamas, (or bare)
"what would the world do without you?" when you hold open the door for an elderly couple
and you know he says it against your ear, voice low, his whispered words hot and heavy. maybe even a little raspy—
but just because he might not be the chatterbox on the block, doesn't mean he doesn't want someone talking to him
so don't give him the silent treatment, because when he does, he becomes insufferable to everyone
he's all curt to lucienne. snappy with matthew. demanding with poor marvin. sharp with cain and abel. rude with death. threatening with desire.
no one has nice dreams and nightmares become so much worse
not you, of course. you're still sleeping perfectly fine, but you realize something's wrong when you meet up with your friends and one of them hasn't slept in days while the other hasn't woken up in days
if it's his fault, it might take death for him to realize his mistakes and apologize to you. again, no long speech, just the simple words, "i'm sorry. i was wrong. please forgive me, my love." and considering this man's flaw is his ego, that is more than enough
and if you tell him to say it on his knees he will as he whispers it against your—
but if you're at fault, he won't back down until you apologize. however, he won't leave you alone. he'll always be there in the corner of your eye, waiting for you to apologize. and when you do, he'll purse his lips, nod, and say nothing. but you'll know he's already forgiven you when his eyes soften and he gives you that soft smile that's reserved for so few people
he might not talk to you, but he does want you to talk to him, so ramble away
let's not get started on what he says in private, but i'll tell you this. he isn't so silent anymore, and he will definitely appreciate whatever you tell him in whatever form—and might even strive to create and draw such sounds from you
a plea
a cry
a groan
a whimper
a scream—
in conclusion, this man will love you with every piece of him. (and if i could, i would do the same morpheus please just give me a chance)
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𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 1.06 𝗍𝗈 1.11. 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽. 𝗂 𝖺𝗆 𝖺𝖻𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 this 𝗆𝖺𝗇. 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗉𝗎𝗍𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇 𝖺𝗇 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽?
𝗂'𝗆 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 14𝗁 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝖿 𝗂 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝖾, 𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝖿𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽
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𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌: 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘢𝘯'𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘶𝘴' 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯
𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!
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prettyprettypaci2 · 2 months
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Drool - Part 3
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💊 Part 1 💊 Part 2 💊
"Oh no, Jess! It looks like our newest patient had a visit from the Potty Monster."
Your brain feels like it's melting. You're desperate to tic, but every muscle in your body is too sluggish and heavy to do more than slosh around in the sinking pool that has become your mattress. The enormous pacifier strapped in your mouth bubbles and squeaks as your lolling tongue pushes creamy drool through the pink shield. But that familiar wetness has been joined by a new one: a puddle of bitter-smelling urine that has periodically expanded and reheated over the last hour, your lower body paralyzed by Nurse Molly's muscle relaxers.
"Mmmmnnnnnnnnggggggggggghhhhhhhhhh," you moan into the thick shaft of the pacifier, dripping pathetically onto the tight cloth bib. The weight of your accumulating drool has now pasted the bib to your chest, and you can feel your saliva seeping through the thin pink paper of your hospital gown.
"You never mentioned any bladder troubles on your application, honey. It's okay, but it's a very important detail for the doctor to know about before your treatment can start!"
Your face gets so hot you can practically feel it crackle. You DON'T have bladder troubles! Nurse Molly obviously gave you too many muscle relaxers! You want to stammer out in protest, but with the leather strap securing the pacifier to your lips, you're completely unable to contradict your nurse's assumptions.
"Jess, I'm going to go fetch some protection. Can you do what you can with the waterworks?"
You become aware of a new presence as Nurse Molly leaves the room: a young woman in a white uniform with shoulder-length hair dyed in an eye-popping pink. You're humiliated to be seen by a stranger while you're writhing stupidly in a lake of your own pee and drool, nursing a fat pacifier and barely able to lift your worthless, mittened hands. You turn your head away as she approaches.
"Hmph. Just what we needed...another bedwetter," she says, her voice oozing with a mix of amusement and genuine frustration. "I'm Nurse Jessica; I'm usually on the night shift. I looked at your file. You're a twitchy one, aren't you? You've got a lot of work ahead of you, especially if we have to start dealing with soaked mattresses."
Nurse Jessica reaches behind your head to untie your cloth bib and peels the saturated square of fabric off of your chest. She tosses it to the floor with a wet plop before folding down the pink-and-white fiberglass guardrails of your bed. You desperately want to explain that you're not actually a bedwetter...but as the pink-haired nurse rolls you onto your side and begins laying down piles of dry towels, all you can do is suckle, sniffle, and moan.
Still unable to move under your own power, you try to focus on the television that has been playing non-stop since you were brought to the room. The bunny cartoon has been replaced with a show where some lady in a princess costume is interacting with puppets. The dialogue and plot are deliriously simple, but it's still preferable to acknowledging Nurse Jessica as she tears off your damp paper hospital gown and begins scrubbing your naked bottom. Once again, lacking any outlet for your instinct to tic, you try to concentrate your nervous energy on the rubbery bulb of the pacifier in your mouth.
"How's our super soaker?"
You hear the familiar voice of Nurse Molly as she pulls back the privacy curtain of your room. At first, it looks like she's brought some extra towels for mopping up your accident, but then you realize...
"Thick, thirsty diapers for our shy little lamb! Don't worry, honey, it's not uncommon for people with motor control issues to have some bladder problems. You didn't have to be embarrassed!"
"Nnnnnnnnnnhhhhhhhhhhh!" You cry out in a panic as Nurse Molly unfurls the massive diaper, holding its hourglass shape aloft like a white flag of surrender for your dignity. The plastic backing crinkles and pops, and you begin to writhe in your bed as she approaches with the mass of soft, heavy padding.
"Nnngh! Nnngh! Nnnnnnnnnngh!" Gurgling uselessly into the rubbery nipple that fills your mouth, the lingering effects of the muscle relaxers join forces with the puffy, constraining mittens to leave you completely at the mercy of these two beautiful nurses. Unable to communicate, you stare up at Nurse Jessica with pleading, desperate eyes as Nurse Molly snaps on a fresh pair of latex gloves and squeezes a liberal amount of white cream into her palm.
"Oh...do you need to tic? Get the wiggles out?" Nurse Jessica sneers, ignoring your obvious panic at the prospect of being taped into the massive diaper. She retreats over to the white-and-pink dresser, which you're surprised to realize is stocked not with the clothes and personal items you brought to the clinic, but with a menagerie of animal plushies, toys, and strange-looking clothes.
"Here, cuddle with Honey Horn. That should calm you down." Nurse Jessica dangles a giant stuffed unicorn above you, nuzzling it against your naked chest in a bid for you to grasp on.
You gasp slurpily as you feel the cold cream in Nurse Molly's gloved hand against the sensitive skin of your bottom. Instinctively, you wrap your bare arms around Honey Horn and pull her against your shivering body, aching for warmth and stimulation. All you can do is suckle, wimper, and squeeze the plushie unicorn as Nurse Molly lifts your legs so they form a right angle with the ceiling.
Nurse Jessica holds your ankles, and you feel the cold, damp towels replaced by a velvety, dry cloud. You wiggle against the odd sensation of your cream-slathered skin on the cottony lining of the soft diaper. You've regained enough feeling in your legs to feel the tightness of the leg guards hugging your thighs as Nurse Molly folds the popping plastic up to your belly button. The ripping tapes are like thunder in your ears, and when the nurses' hands finally let go, the new bulk around your hips stays. You summon the strength to shift Honey Horn to the side, just so you can behold what you already know: you've been snugly and securely diapered.
"Now we need to change out this mattress, honey, so we'll need you to get out of bed. It looks like you still have jelly legs from your medicine, so it's probably safest if you hang out with Honey Horn on the floor."
The nurses work together to lift you up and slide a purple cotton t-shirt over your torso before tying a fresh cotton bib around your neck. By the time Nurse Molly helps you plop down onto the pink blanket that Nurse Jessica spread out on the linoleum, your bib is already catching droplets of warm drool that ooze through the shield of your ever-present pacifier. You have no choice but to cling to Honey Horn, unable to do anything else with your mittened hands as you try to summon feeling back into your legs with weak kicks of your pink jelly sandals. And as you lie on your back, squirming and moaning through helpless suckling, your ears ring with the crinkles and pops of your fluffy white diaper, bulging like a balloon, overwhelming your senses with its tightness, its bulk, and its crackling song...
Crinkle, pop, squish, suck. Crinkle, pop, squish, suck.
Crinkle, pop, squish, suck. Crinkle, pop, squish, suck.
💊 Part 4 💊
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riaki · 4 months
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a spritz of peppermint | megumi fushiguro x reader
pt.6 of christmas event! cw: petnames i think idk, not proofread, there’s probably other stuff i’m missing but wtv happy birthday the prettiest king pls come back the food is cold
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today is a very special day.
megumi notices that you rise early— mostly because when he wakes up in the morning, rubbing his sleep-heavy eyes groggily with a groan, he notices you’re not there. he rolls over, and smacks his face into cold sheets, devoid of your heat.
it pisses him off. so he starts his special day out as a grouch.
when he eventually crawls out of bed and makes his way into the kitchen after pulling on some sweats, though— he stops just short of the threshold to that sweet smelling cozy haven you love to spend your time in. the scent of pine needles and fresh chocolate orange wafts across the space, warm and welcoming and awfully wintery. he’s impartial to the cold— but he likes seeing your nose get red, so he guesses that’s one point positive.
“megumi?” your soft voice drifts across the open space, and the frost around his grumpy heart melts just a little; a crack in the frozen surface of the lake.
he reluctantly emerges from the shadow of the hallway, past the bundle of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. the thought causes a memory to flash across his mind— your sweet smile and your prettier laugh; a distinct feeling of fuzzy warmth like a knitted sweater spreading across his cheeks when you pulled him close by the sleeve of his shirt and leaned in—
he shakes his head, trying to dash the stray thought. he’s supposed to be mad. it has no right to be there.
“why’d you get up so early?” he sighs heavily as he joins you at your side, scratching the back of his neck and running a hand through his unruly hair. you smiled sheepishly, turning to face him and you wrap your arms around his middle, squeezing lightly as a silent apology. he takes it with a grumble, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his face in your hair to bask in the scent of home before pulling away.
“it’s a secret.” you grinned, and he glares down at you, clicking his teeth in annoyance. you just laugh like the angel you are, leaving no room for guilt. you’re wearing one of his sweaters; you smell like him, and he supposes it makes up for the way you ditched him this morning.
“i expect compensation.” he grumbles, leaning against the counter as he watches you move about the kitchen, pale winter sunlight painting you like an ethereal dancer beneath the surface of misty lake water, crystal clear in your beauty. it’s mesmerizing.
you laughed, and his teeth dig into his bottom lip. “what, missed me? were you feeling lonely, gumi?” you smiled.
he just shoots you a piercing glare, the color of icicles in his eyes, but the warmth of your grin melts it away. you spend the next few moments in a comfortable silence, preparing a french toast topped with sweet berries and powdered sugar that looks so soft megumi could probably sink into it, until your lovely voice breaks the crisp morning silence.
“want black coffee?”
that’s weird. he never hesitates. and you know he takes his coffee black; of course you do. not because he wants to look cool, or look suave in another person’s eyes… well, except for you, of course. but not in the area of caffeine doses. and to be perfectly clear, all he needs is a dose of you to get him going.
he clears his throat. “can you make me hot chocolate?”
you pause, and he almost wants to bite his tongue off. why is he so embarrassed? but you just chuckle, like morning bird song across fresh dew on the grass.
“switching it up, huh? that’s cute.” you hum, and his face burns hot like embers in a brick fireplace. he coughs, throat scratchy like the pricks of a pinecone— but you make no note of it, simply going about your day.
he’s content to watch as you fish around in the rum-colored cabinets, pulling out a crinkly bag of cocoa powder. you put him on milk microwaving duty and he busies himself, lithe pale fingers unscrewing the carton of milk and pouring it into his favorite little painted dog mug. you were the one who’d made it; that silly little ceramics class you insisted on taking clearly didn’t help you too much in the way of smoothing down the bumps and blotches on the mug, but it holds your fingerprint, so he might as well memorize the shape of your hands when you’re not there.
megumi’s snapped back to reality when you grab a candy cane from the mini tree you decorated together sitting on the kitchen counter, smashing it up in the wrappings to mix the pepperminty dust with the cocoa powder. he eyes the pile of holiday drug warily as he brings the steaming mug over, placing it before you and leaning against the counter again to watch you work your mystery magic.
“that looks like brown cocai—”
“shh, megumi. keep your pretty mouth shut, please.”
he’s about to butt in again, lips parted before he presses them together irritatedly and resigns to sulk in silence.
you pour the hot chocolate mix into the milk, swishing it together as it forms a pretty spiral of cocoa; the color of dark chai and chocolate tart. he’s content to watch in silence, humming some christmas carol he’d overheard you listening to one gray afternoon— until he realizes you’re opening a bag of those sickeningly sweet and fluffy marshmallows he’d bought you on a whim. he only did it because his mentor told him they made the best gifts, but he’s beginning to realize it was the sweet tooth talking.
“hey— wait… are you going to put those in there, pretty?” he asks, putting a gentle hand on your wrist to stop you from vigorously emptying the bag into his poor victimized hot chocolate mug.
you glance up at him and flash a toothy grin, giving him one of those looks that makes his heart skip a beat. “trust me, gumi! you’re gonna love it.” you laughed, shrugging his hand off, and his lips curve downward. less because of the marshmallows that are toppling into his mug with a splash and more so because you freed yourself from his grasp.
obviously, you notice— your eyebrows knit together, a pinch of guilt weighing upon them like the snow on the streets outside. but it’s wiped away as quickly as it comes; before he knows it, you’re walking away with a bounce in your step, disappearing behind the counter before re-emerging with something behind your back.
“don’t look so sad, gumi. here,” you say, the cadence of your voice as soft and playful as he ever remembers it being when you pull a bunch of roses from behind your back. the bouquet is small and there’s dirt clinging to the stems— but his heart melts at the thought that you hand-picked them, prickly thorns and all, for him. “happy birthday,” you whispered, and his walls break.
“you’re not so different from them, you know.” you hummed, smiling as he takes them from you and gives you an inquisitive, quiet look. “you might be a little prickly on the outside, but you’re just as beautiful. you just have to look a little past the thorns.”
he feels his face flush; at this point, it’s probably as red as the stray candy cane shavings melting in his mug and the vibrant petals of the roses. he splutters and mumbles something annoyed under his breath, but he’s sure you can hear the undercurrent of fondness and affection weaves into each syllable like the beats of his heart, where you’re so close to. megumi thinks you might’ve just cut him open and made a home in his ribcage.
the bunch of handpicked roses for his special day sit on the marble counter dusted with cocoa powder and candy cane shavings, marshmallows bobbing at the surface of his hot chocolate like apples in a bucket as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in to press his lips insistently to yours, slow and tender like the way he always loves you. his hands curl around your sides, as if to ground you there; freeze the time in this bubble of warmth, forgetting the chill outside to warm his hands on your skin. you’re so little in his arms; he wants to hold you and never let you go, to keep you under his tree and have you make hot chocolate for him instead of black coffee every morning he wakes up, because it’s fine if you’re not there in bed— as long as you’re waiting for him with open arms elsewhere.
and when he kisses you, he realizes he might not need his hot cocoa to warm his stomach— your lips are as soft and pillowy sweet as the marshmallows melting in his mug, filled with steaming hot cocoa and all the love he could ever wrap his heart in this cozy winter; his christmas gift to you.
he’s grateful today is a special day, if only because of you and his sweet little painted dog mug filled with your heartwarming love.
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stop this was so close to being late my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !
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eddiexfreakxmunson · 2 years
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x F! Reader
Genre: smut, reader has nipple piercings, Pervy!Eddie
MDNI
TW: NON-CON, DUB-CON, somnophilia, smoking, cursing, dry humping, masturbation (male), Eddie is a virgin and a perv; IF YOU DON’T LIKE THESE, DON’T READ THIS PLEASE!
Word Count: 3,055
Summary: Most of the time Eddie can keep his hands to himself when he’s around you, his childhood best friend. But as you both grow older, his restraint is tested. What’s a guy to do when a golden opportunity to finally get a taste of you presents itself to him in the form of a tiny cut shirt?
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Eddie nearly has a conniption when he sees you've cut the old band t-shirt he let you have.
When you'd gone hiking around Lover's Lake earlier in the week, and he'd 'accidentally' thrown you into the water in your white shirt, he'd offered up the spare in his van as a peace treaty, eyes glued to the pretty pink bra you'd been wearing underneath, even as he had apologized profusely for getting you soaked, knowing he wasn't sorry at all.
He doesn't even think about it after that. If he was honest, he'd admit that not much else consumed his brain than how fucking good your tits looked with the white cotton of your shirt sticking to them, how pretty the color of your bra contrasted against your skin, how badly he'd wanted to strip you down right there.
He'd never let you know how often he thinks about you like that. Couldn't risk ruining a friendship that had endured years of school and countless boyfriends and girlfriends that had come and gone. It was always just the two of you, and he liked it that way.
But he's still a man, and he'd have to be blind to think you weren't utterly gorgeous. And utterly unaware of how badly he wanted you under him. Naked, preferably crying out his name.
It's nights like these that ease that ache a little bit. On weekends when your parents are out of town, he can come spend the night like he used to, back when you were both in middle school. With your parents gone, he's allowed to share your bed, your warmth and smell surrounding him, driving him crazy.
It's not without its repercussions, though. More often than not, Eddie wakes with your ass pressed against him, a result of all the tossing and turning you do in your sleep, and he has to fight back the urge to give in and wake you up with his cock sinking into you.
Most mornings, all he allows is a few shallow ruts against your ass, biting his fist to stifle his groans before he's rolling out of bed to fuck his fist in your bathroom, knowing that you're in the next room, so close but so fucking far.
He's laying in your bed, enjoying a cigarette when you roll off the bed, mumbling about having to wash your face and change into pajamas before falling asleep.
He doesn't even really realize at first; he's just happy to sneak a peek at the muscles in your back and shoulders contracting as you pull your blouse over your head and drag his gaze over your body- the closest he's ever going to get to having you the way he wants.
It's not until you've turned around that he recognizes the worn gray shirt, only now it's cropped, the sleeves and most of the armpit also cut out into a make-shift cropped tank top. He sits up straighter at the sight, annoyance rolling through his body.
Sure, he said you could have it, but he didn't say you could destroy it. He's about to tell you as much when he stops short, watching you lean over to grab your pajama bottoms, and catches a complete side view of your breast for a split second as the fabric hangs off your shoulders from your position.
He can't help the way his cock jumps at the sight, and his mouth goes dry, eyes glued to your tits. He's positive you don't know how much you're revealing as you straighten again, giving him a look.
"What?"
"Nothing. Shirt looks good." he's quick to respond, blinking away his hungry expression as you give him a sweet smile and pad into your bathroom.
As soon as you're out of view, the calm facade drops again, and his mind is whirling. Sure, he's seen you in swimsuits and bras, and that one time in the rearview mirror when you had to change quickly, and he couldn't help himself from looking.
He knows it's wrong. Knows it's messed up how often he fucks his fist to the thought of you, of your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, the pretty sounds you'd make if he--
"Hello? Earth to Eddie?"
He snaps back into focus to you standing right next to him, eyebrow raised. "Huh?" it's a real intelligent response to your question, and he's quick to shift around, so you don't see the tent growing in his jeans.
"I said, 'are you gonna sleep in that?'" you huff, gesturing to his dark jeans and long sleeve shirt.
"Oh. Uh, no, but I'm probably not gonna head to bed yet," he admits, shifting uncomfortably. "Probably gonna shower first." He adds, knowing there's no way he'd be able to sleep with the hard-on he's currently sporting.
You shrug, crawling onto the bed and his heart nearly leaps into his throat when you slide a thigh over his lap, momentarily pressing directly against his cock before you're gone again, sliding under the covers on your side of the bed.
"Do whatever you gotta do, but I'm going to bed, so just turn off the lights when you're done, okay?"
All he can do is mumble out an okay, practically sprinting to your bathroom, the image of your bare thighs caging his lap running around his head.
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Sleep tugs at him when his eyes flutter open in the morning, the warmth of your legs tangled with his luring him back to sleep. He almost gives in, lets himself relax, and drift off again when his eyes adjust to the dim morning light, and he's greeted with a sight that makes his heart stop and his half-hard cock twitch.
Your shirt rode up in the night. Not like it usually did, with the planes of your stomach in clear view, but far higher thanks to how it was cut. You're still sleeping softly, lips parted slightly as you breathe, your hair falling over your face.
On a typical morning, he might allow himself to push your hair behind your ear and run his thumb over your bottom lip, just to imagine what they might feel like against his skin. But today, he's not interested. Not with the way he can see the curve of your tits so easily, the darker color of your areola poking out from beneath the gray fabric.
His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, taking his time to try and commit the sight to memory when you shift slightly, your shirt flashing more of your skin and then something darker before the fabric settles again.
His eyes widen with the realization of what he just got a glimpse of, and his resolve crumbles, curiousity making him bolder. He reaches out a shaky hand, fingertips softly clutching into the grey fabric as he tugs it upwards, careful to ensure he doesn't wake you.
"Holy fuck," he hisses when he's pushed the shirt up over your breasts, eyes glued to the dark bars that pierce your nipples. How had he not known about those? Why hadn't you told him?
For a moment, he wracks his brain for a time when you could've gone and gotten them done without him knowing, watching how your chest rises and falls with each breath.
He wants to feel them. Wants to roll them between his fingers, circle them with his tongue like he's seen men do in the porn he's bought. Until now, he'd been convinced that only porn stars would pierce themselves like that, but here you are. In his shirt, in bed with him. He bites his lip, warring with himself for a moment.
You're his best friend. He shouldn't even be looking at you like this. Shouldn't even be considering touching you. But then you let out a pretty little huff, eyebrows drawn up in your sleep, and shift closer to him, the underside of your breast brushing across his knuckle resting between your bodies, and he can't help himself.
He grazes his hand against your skin, letting his fingertips explore, watching with interest as goosebumps raise on your skin in his wake, watching the way your nipple pebbles at his touch. Your skin is just as soft as he expected, a rugged contrast to the callouses that line his skin from years of guitar playing.
His fingers ghost higher until he's cupping the weight of your breast in his hand- a perfect fit, like you were made just for him- and he pushes the boundary a little bit more, heart racing as he swipes his thumb slowly over your nipple.
Your reaction is instant; he jumps, hands immediately falling from your body when you let out a muffled sigh, pressing your chest further into his hand. He's carefully watching your face, hands pressed against the mattress for a moment, afraid you'll hear the pounding in his chest and wake up.
But you don't. If anything, a slight frown settles over your features, and he wonders if, just maybe, it's at the loss of contact.
"You awake, pretty girl?" he murmurs quietly into the darkened room, listening for any response or change in breathing, reaching forward again. He's more confident this time, forgoing any more soft touches to run his fingers over your nipple again, making sure to run the pad of his thumb over the smooth metal adorning them.
The whine you let out at the stimulation has his cock straining against his sweats immediately, and he bites back a groan. "Fucking knew it." he breathes, repeating the motion, firmer this time, relishing the way you lean into him. "Knew I could make you feel good,"
For a moment, guilt seeps into him as he leans forward, freeing his other hand to press your tits together, blowing air over your skin, but then your hips shift towards him, and another whine slips from your lips.
"I've gotcha, pretty girl, don't worry," he soothes, pressing a soft kiss along the curve of your breast, his tongue slipping out to slide over your skin, leading a trail up to your nipple where he presses the pad of his tongue against it and licks a long stripe.
At that, you moan, voice muffled by sleep, but it's even sweeter than he ever imagined, all those nights he spent cumming into his fist to the thought of you.
His cock is aching, begging to be freed, and he's sure there's a stain on his sweats from where he's dripping pre, but he doesn't care. Not when he's pulling those sounds from you with just his tongue. It makes him wonder what he'd be able to do to you with his cock.
He'd be lying if a sense of pride didn't fill him at the realization. He was by no means experienced in bed. The closest he'd gotten was the girl he'd briefly dated last summer who'd given him head in the back of his van. Even that had been short and clumsy. But now, here with you, he was getting your unfiltered responses to his touch and his mouth, and if the way you pressed into him was any indication, you were enjoying yourself.
He uses the way he's pressed your tits together to his advantage, tilting his head to give your other nipple the same attention, latching his mouth over it and swirling his tongue over the peak, careful to make sure your piercing is involved, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin.
It's wet and sloppy, and a line of drool connects his lips to your flesh when he pulls back, admiring how your skin shines with his saliva. You're openly whining now, your thighs clenched together as your hips shift, searching for friction, and he crosses a barrier he'd never dared to before.
He releases your breasts with one last kiss over the sensitive skin before slipping his knee between your legs, sliding it higher until his thigh is so close to your clothed cunt, he can feel the heat radiating off you.
He has a moment of clarity, guilt filling his veins as he glances up at your face, completely unaware. And then you press yourself right against his thigh, and it disappears in a single moment as you rut yourself against him, mouth parted in a drawn-out moan at the friction.
"Fuck, sweet thing," he grits out, feeling how damp your pajama bottoms are, even through the thick cotton of his sweats. He shifts his knee higher so you don't have to work as hard, and a sharp cry falls from your lips at the sloppy contact with your clit.
He's mesmerized by the way your hips shift and grind against his leg, using him to get off in your sleep, a dark patch appearing on his pants where you're working yourself against him. He can't help but wonder if you'd move the same in his lap, his cock buried balls deep inside you. Your sharp cries cut through his hazy thoughts, dripping like honey from your lips as you alternate between whining and panting.
It's too much for Eddie. First, you prance around in his fucking shirt, cutting it so goddamn short that he gets the perfect view of your tits, and now this. How is he supposed to watch you get off so up close and personal and just lay there? He lifts his hips, slipping his sweats down just low enough to free his cock, the tip an angry red color. He doesn't bother to quiet the groan that bubbles up when he finally grips his base, his balls full and begging for some release.
"Got no idea what you do to me, princess," he grits out, pumping himself as he watches your face contort in pleasure, lips forming a pout that's just asking to be kissed as he jerks himself, circling the tip of his cock tightly and using his pre to slide his hand down his length easier.
"Betcha my cock would feel so much better than my thigh," he rasps quietly, noting the way your hips have sped up, how your moans are longer, higher, sweeter now.
He knows how dangerous it is to risk waking you now, with his cock in his hand and his thigh wedged up against your pussy, but he takes a chance anyways, angling his thigh, so it bumps against your clit with every pass of your hips.
"Not gonna last much longer," he warns, despite the fact that he's pretty sure you're close too if he's reading your body language right. "Got me feeling like a fucking perv all the time, can't believe I'm actually doing this," he pants, speeding up his movements, feeling that coil in his stomach tighten.
"Wanna see you fall apart humping my leg first though, princess, come on. Let me see, please," he pleads, his sentence drawing off into a pitiful whine as his hips buck into his hand. "Tryin' to be a good friend all the time, just wanna feel that pretty pussy one. fucking. time." he grits out, teeth clenched to suffocate the moans he's sure would wake you.
He's getting desperate, the realization that you could wake up at any second dawning on him, and he reacts on impulse, slipping a hand between your cunt and his thigh.
His fingers catch your clit immediately, and you jerk against him, back arching as you let out a sharp cry, your movements getting sloppy. He matches his strokes to the roll of your hips, tears springing to his eyes as he tries to keep his orgasm at bay to keep watching you come apart.
It only takes a few more rolls of your hips before your body is tensing, thighs shaking as you let out a choked sob in your sleep.
"Fuck, Eddie!"
The sound of you crying out his name as you cum against his palm is enough to send him over the edge, eyes wide as his orgasm hits him out of nowhere, the planes of his stomach tightening as ropes of his cum coat his hand, dripping down onto the sheets below him.
"Jesus H. Christ," he pants, a bead of blood rising on his lip from where he bit it to keep from crying out. He peels his eyes open to see the mess in the sheets and pulls back in panic, carefully pulling his hand and thigh away from you.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit." Eddie curses, quickly tucking himself back into his sweats as he scoots away from you, holding his other hand off the comforter, so there's no additional evidence of what he did.
He pauses, twisting his palm to watch the way your slick catches the dim morning light, and curiosity gets the better of him as he brings it up to his mouth, tentatively running his tongue over it.
He immediately regrets it. Not because he doesn't like it, but because he does. His cock is already twitching again, and ideas of waking you up with a head full of curls between your thighs consume him. He takes a split second to roll your shirt back down over your chest, thumbing your nipples and earning him a sharp inhale from you that has him grinning despite himself.
"Someone's sensitive," he teases quietly, watching your face contort again, lip trapped between your teeth and eyelashes fluttering.
He shakes himself and groans, rolling away until his feet hit the floor, needing to get away from you before his cock got the better of him. Again.
He opts for a cold shower, stripping out of his sweats and folding them so you wouldn't see the dark spot on them, hoping the freezing water would be enough to calm him- at least until he could get home.
He's not sure how long he's in the shower for, but what he does know is you're barely stirring when he comes back, hair dripping down onto his bare back, jeans pulled over his hips but unzipped as he slips back into bed beside you, heart hammering as you roll over and throw an arm over his torso.
"Morning, Eds," you mumble sleepily, face buried in a pillow. He smiles, relaxing back against your headboard in relief.
"Morning, princess. Sleep well?"
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iamnotoriginalphil · 1 year
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Soulmates (Larissa Weems x Reader)
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Synopsis: In a world with soulmates, your crush is not exactly wanted.
Words: 2k
Warning: none
In a world full of magic, soulmates were hardly the most shocking concept. You knew of plenty of people who had found theirs, the bright colours on their skin a mark of exactly whose soul entwined with theirs. The first touch of skin contact was enough, even if that touch was little more than a brush of pinkies.
You were still waiting on yours.
You had assumed, perhaps wrongly, that living and working amongst people like you, outcasts, would bring you one step closer to finding the person for you. Over a year of teaching at Nevermore Academy and your skin remained as unmarked as ever. You kept waiting for the moment you saw your skin change to something bright.
Unfortunately for you, it also hadn’t stopped you developing a bit of a crush.
Your boss, the supposedly intimidating Larissa Weems, was devastatingly beautiful and always had a warm smile for you. You craved her attention, wanting those enticing eyes on you. Jut hearing her voice sent your heart fluttering.
And at night, if you dreamt of her whispering certain things in your ear, hands on your body, lips on your skin, that was your business.
The worst of it was knowing that there was no chance of her being your soulmate. You were sure, despite having no memory of it, that there must have been a brush of skin at some point. In more than an entire year of soft conversations and encouraging words there wasn’t a chance there’d been no skin contact at all.
All it did was make you work harder to keep it under wraps. You had nothing to offer her if you weren’t her soulmate. You knew she deserved the best, and that wouldn’t be you without that burst of colour.
That didn’t stop the way you found yourself fantasising about her. Red lips leaving lipstick marks on your skin. Fingers finding your heat. The way her breath would hitch under your touch. Moans mingling in the air.
One of the best ways to reset yourself when these thoughts began to become overwhelming was to swim. The cool water, the strain on your muscles, the mindless repetitive movements, they helped to clear your head until you could think again.
Hence why you found yourself emerging from the lake on a particularly chilly evening. You’d spent the better part of the day trying to push away the image of being pushed against the wall by a passionate Larissa after a heated meeting in her office. Your crush was growing out of control and you had no way of improving it.
You pushed your hair out of your face as you emerged from the water, shivering in the water. Toes sinking into the mud and silt at the bottom of the lake, you trudged your way out of the water, fresh air and weary muscles giving you the clarity you needed to continue your job.
“You’ve taken to swimming an awful lot lately.”
You blinked, sure you were hearing things. You could do that sometimes, conjure her voice in your mind, whispering things that would never be repeated. You took another step.
“Please don’t tell me you’re training for some kind of race.”
No, definitely not in your head. You looked up, no longer watching your feet to keep from slipping. Larissa was there, standing just far enough back from the edge of the water to keep from getting her shoes wet. She had that half smile on her face you’d come to know and her eyes were sparkling with mirth.
“No, no race. I’m not sure I’m really the athletic type,” you replied, suddenly aware of how little your swimming costume covered. The cool wind bit at your skin and you shivered. Her eyes travelled down your body and back up, concern marring her features.
“And yet you swim with an ease not often seen outside the sirens,” she replied.
You took another step forward. Your foot landed on the bottom before the floor fell out beneath you. You cried out, one foot sliding away from you as the other seemed to be trapped in concrete. There was a reason you watched each step carefully. You cursed her, Larissa, for being so distracting. You squeezed your eyes closed tight, the inevitable fall looming closer.
Strong hands caught you, one wrapping around your waist, the other landing on your shoulder. You opened your eyes, finding blue eyes peering down at you, red lips turned down in worry. You grasped Larissa’s arm, letting her haul you back onto your feet. Without a word, she swung your legs up, out of the water, depositing you on the grass.
“Thank you,” you said, not quite sure where to look. You’d been in her arms, for a fraction of a second, the whole world coming down to that contact. You didn’t know what to do with yourself now.
“Think nothing of it,” she replied.
Her hand was warm where it still rested on your shoulder. It was making it hard to think, her thumb brushing against your skin. You felt goose pimples rise, hoping she’d assume it was from the cold.
“Although I am now a touch damp,” she said said.
You let your eyes run over her body and yes, there was water clinging to her dress. Your cheeks flamed as you looked at her, knowing this was your fault. If you’d only been paying more attention. If you hadn’t let her distract you. If you could only get your crush under control.
“Oh no,” you said, reaching out, finger tracing over a damp spot close to her hip.
You heard her breath hitch and you froze. You knew you shouldn’t have touched her, it was too familiar. It would let her see inside your heart.
“Sorry,” you said, drawing back until even her hand couldn’t touch you.
The way she gasped had you whirling around, assuming something was sneaking up on the two of you. It wouldn’t be the first time a monster had been loose at the school. Vulnerable and alone you’d make a perfect target.
Only there was nothing to see behind you. Nothing out of the ordinary at least. The same view as always greeted you. You turned back around, expecting an explanation only to find her looking down at the palm of her hand, eyes wide, mouth falling open.
“What is it?” you asked, certain you’d missed something.
“It can’t be,” she muttered, but you didn’t think it was directed at you.
“What can’t be?”
Her eyes travelled up to you again, sweeping over you. Warmth pooled in your stomach at the way she was looking at you. Hope and incredulity and something unnamed bled through her face. Her mouth opened then closed.
“What?”
You grabbed her hand, staring down at the palm. Across her skin a galaxy of blues and green and purples shone out at the world. Your heart plummeted into your stomach. You dropped her hand like it was made of flames and stepped back.
“Sorry,” you said, “I’ll uh, I’ll just head inside and dry off.”
“You don’t want to talk about this?” she asked.
“What’s there to talk about?”
She reeled back as if you’d just slapped her. You took your own step back, horror sliding over your face. You had no idea what had just happened. The way she was looking at you, there was no longer any trace of hope.
“I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea,” she said, “I apologise for any disappointment this has caused.”
“No I’m not disappointed. I’m happy for you. Congratulations. Do you know who it is?” you asked, “it must have happened recently for you to have not noticed until now.”
“Do I…” her eyebrows drew together, “darling, it’s you.”
You shook your head, tears springing in your eyes. You hadn’t thought she was cruel. Intimidating when she wanted to be, but not cruel.
“Don’t do that,” you said.
“Darling.”
She raised her hand, that hand, fingertips grazing against the skin of your shoulder. You jerked away, not needing this newly flirtatious behaviour when you knew she had found her soulmate. The new pet name was already ruining you.
“Look at your shoulder,” she said, a note of command entering her voice.
You shook your head again, taking another step back. Only this time, she took one forward, closing the distance.
“Darling, look at your shoulder,” she commanded again.
You glanced down. Her finger was back on your skin, making you feel dizzy. It was hard to concentrate on the swirling colours on your shoulder. Her finger traced along the edge of it, almost in an exact imprint of her hand.
“What?” Your brain was having a hard time connecting the dots properly.
“It’s you, darling. You’re my soulmate,” she said, “just you.”
“How is that possible?” you asked, “we’ve known each other for over a year.”
“I suppose skin to skin contact isn’t nearly as common as people assume,” she said, “but it’s happened now.”
“Yes.” You were still watching her finger trace patterns over your skin.
“How do you feel about this?” she asked, “I can understand if this isn’t what you were expecting or wanting.”
Your gaze snapped back up to her. Her expression had dropped, uncertainty in every line. You reached up, your hand hovering over her cheek, not quite making contact, not wanting her look like that ever again. Not when it came to you.
“Larissa,” you breathed. You didn’t know what was showing on your face but the concern began to ease, “I’ve had a crush on you since the moment I met you.”
A smile bloomed over her face, bright and wide and you weren’t sure you’d ever seen such joy in a person. Her hand began to move further up your shoulder, growing closer to your neck. You shivered again, now arching into her touch.
“That is a relief to hear,“ she said, “I was beginning to think I was in this alone.”
You cupped her cheek, a sigh parting her lips at the contact. She was too beautiful, your heart constricting at the sight. It was finally hitting you, that she was yours. Your soulmate.
“Larissa,” you said.
“Yes, darling?”
“If you don’t kiss me right now, I might combust,” you told her.
Her smile turned from bright joy into something more predatory. Your breath caught in your throat and heat exploded in your cheeks. That hand travelling over your skin grasped your throat, pulling you closer to her. You let out a surprised squeak.
“We can’t have that now, can we?”
The first brush of lips was surprisingly sweet. You whimpered, cupping the back of her neck, pulling her against you. Something in her broke. She growled into your mouth, her hand pressing against your lower back, keeping you tight against her body.
Her tongue swept into your mouth, dominating the kiss. A moan rumbled through your chest and you clutched at her like she was your life line. She kissed you deeper, taking your breath away. Her groan as you nipped at those red lips sent a jolt of pleasure right between your legs. If you weren’t in public at the school, you couldn’t make any promises about what you would do with her.
She drew away, lipstick smudged, eyes sparkling. She smiled at you, thumb running along your bottom lip. You nipped at the pad of her thumb, watching as her eyes darkened.
“Shall we continue this conversation somewhere more private?” she asked.
You threaded your fingers through hers, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.
“Lead the way, sweetheart,” you said.
She pulled you in for one last kiss before leading you back up the school and to her private quarters.
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Random Soap MacTavish headcanons {2}
sfw and nsfw
pairing: sgt. Soap MacTavish x reader (cod mw)
tags/tw: domestic stuff, fem!reader, smut, creampie, oral kink, groping, fingering, twt links (straight up porn)
a/n: if I have not seen the scene when Soap floats to he Scottish Highlands, it haven't happened. yes I'm in denial and will re-watch the mw2 campaign religiously, while living in my bubble, I shall feed all of those who wants to join me
Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish MASTERLIST
sfw
-god this man chews gum a.fucking.lot, Soap always have a pack of gum in his pocket or bag
-sometimes you send him a look when he starts chewing with the front of his teeth and the sound gets just a tad bit too obnoxious, he always notices but there's two ways he reacts
-either he gives you a bashful smile and shrug before going back to whatever he's doing, mindful to not disturb you again
-or, he simply meets your gaze with arched brows, white gum on full display between his teeth as he offers you a boyish smile, that reaction always precedes his playful mood of teasing you with his chewing, a sharp pop sounding every now and then as he somehow manages to create little bubbles with a simple
-although Soap may be the shortest out of 141, this man is far from small, just put him in a setting where everyone isn't Ghost and he towers over most and it just so happens that you get reminded of it while almost every time you catch him working out
-you just throw him a glance and get kinda stunned when seeing the way your hulking powerhouse of a boyfriend beats the punching bag or throw around weights as if they weight absolutely nothing
-he loves swimming and water
-like, this man wants to go to any body of water at least once on his leave, sometimes just to sit and watch the wave crash against the beach, or the soft clucking of a lake
-sometimes he even takes a quick dip despite being in Scotland and the water impossibly is above 11
-you just watch him in disbelief as he strip and wades into the water until it reaches the middle of his thighs and he submerges himself, you blame it on the military for frying his cold-receptors, but he argues he's been likes this since being a wee lad
nsfw under the cut
-this mf is nasty, Soap loves to see his cum drip out of you and if you’ll let him, he’ll never want to prove his pull-out game is as strong as he boasts about
-sometimes, he is so in his head that he can’t rid himself of his boner until he can shoot his load inside you, jerks himself off with his tip resting just inside your pretty cunt
-ohmygod I just imagined Soap having an oral kink, but more so watching your lips wrap round things, your tongue running over whatever is sealed within your mouth
-of course he loves when you give him oral, having you sink to your knees before him with a football game in the background after a stressful day, he can see heaven the way his head cranes backwards
-but, it doesn't even need to be anything sexual, you can be licking an ice cream, a lollipop, Jesus Christ your fucking fingers from the sauce when you cook, he can't take his eyes off of you
-Soap is sweat in the bedroom, adores making you feel good and reach your high enough times until you push his hands away and lay there with a drunk smile, limbs slack, eyes half-lidded as they meet his adoringly
-however, sometimes he touches you because he wants to play
-you can be laying in bed, short tank top and panties on as he relaxes in joggers, and his fingers just starts running up and down your scantily clad bottom half
-it starts with Soap just running his hands over your arse, lower spine, until they dip again and he toys with your underwear, fingers occasionally slipping over your clothed pussy, pressing into the seam of your cunt before going back to groping your cheeks
-then he pushes it further, dipping his fingers beneath your panties to toy with your cunt, only to take your panties off altogether to lazily finger you
-he plays for a long time, feeling how you grew wetter and squirm all the more, in the end breathing a desperate pleading 'Johnny' and he knows it'll come because he never stops until it does, just wanting to see for how long you'll let him run his hands over you before getting to needy
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[ACT 2 SPOILERS] Gale Brainrot my beloved
You know how much I love Gale. The Rizzard snatched me straight from that silly vampire the moment I made contact with those big brown puppy dog eyes. Fem!Reader CW: Cockwarming, shameless masterbation, feral switch Gale
Gale, who can finally breathe after the orb stabilizes. Finally, he can relax and do all the things he'd missed out on because of the orb. Sure, the idea that Mystra could've always freed him from his torment still plagued him but he had bigger and more pressing matters to deal with.
He watched you stamp out the Absolute's forces for their Moon lantern, clutching the saving light in one hand while you stomped out the last goblin with a merciless glare. And the way watching you fight made him terribly horny, something he'd conveniently kept under wraps while the orb threatened to detonate in his chest. He sat in his tent, thankful everyone else had other things to be worried about than his reclusive nature. In reality, he keeps playing images of you in his head over and over. Bloodstained, vicious, powerful. Not to mention undeniably attractive. The way the beads of sweat trickle down your face in a difficult fight sends waves of pleasure through him and straight to his aching cock. He pumps mercilessly along the length of his shaft, imagine it was your hand milking him and reliving the stress. He cums hard, the hardest he's come in a long time. Thick long ropes paint his hand and the wall of his tent, and the thought of releasing on your face gets him hard all over again. The next day he pays extra attention to you in combat, finding more material for his mental image of you. Which conveniently gets him smacked into next week just as he got a good look at your hips when you recovered from a fall mid-fight. He tumbles into a large lake, hearing his name called as he sinks under the waves. Gale who woke up to you desperately blowing air into his lungs. All he can focus on is the softness of your lips on his, and how much he wants to make out with you then and there. However, the water in his lungs has other ideas and he coughs it up to ruin a perfectly good moment. He thanks you profusely for saving him again.
Gale who can't help himself as he whimpers, the sight of your wet awaiting hole being enough to make him throb. He slides in slowly, trembling by the time he fully sheaths himself in you. He pants, already ready to come from the feeling of bottoming out. "No--! Let me-- let me enjoy this, slowly..."
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hp-hcs · 6 months
Text
(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 10 of my silly lil mlm stories <3)
luna (Chapter Two of Watercolors) — tom riddle x male! artistic! hufflepuff! reader
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there’s no romantic relationship between luna and tom just fyi <33
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The next thing the wonderful watercolor boy made Tom was a lake. There was no way to tell time inside the diary—it might’ve been an hour since the Watercolor Boy painted Tom the little hut, it might’ve been a year, who’s to say?
But eventually, the color maker returned. Tom sat back against the low stone fence surrounding his hut, watching with rapt fascination as the paintbrush reappeared, moving with wide, confident sweeps as it created a small lake just at the bottom of the hill. He watched, mouth slightly agape, as the brush hesitated, before slowly painting in a wisteria tree that wept dusty lilac petals all over the ground. A petal fell onto the surface of the lake, staying stationary for a moment before sinking below the surface.
It was beautiful.
Tom laughed, loudly and genuinely, as he sprinted down the hill towards the newest treasure, barely stopping to kick off his shoes before leaping into the lake.
It was freezing. As Tom resurfaced, his teeth clacked and chattered. His robes were heavy with water (real water!) and he had to slowly drag himself out of the depths. He laid on the bank, breathing heavily and shivering.
As he looked up at the never-changing paper sky, he wondered (not for the first time) what would happen if he asked the Watercolor boy to paint him something specific.
What if he got scared off?
What if he stopped painting?
No, Tom couldn’t risk that.
So he kept silent.
~~~
The first living thing the Watercolor Boy painted in the diary was a girl. Barely reaching his shoulder in height, she had long, wavy blonde hair and a perpetually faraway look in her eyes. At first, Tom had wondered if Watercolor Boy had made a mistake while painting her to get such a dreamy look on her face, but then she’d introduced herself as a Lovegood. It all made sense then.
Luna.
Her name was Luna.
Tom thought that was the most beautiful name in the world.
Or at least he did.
“Luna?” Tom whispered, his voice cracking from decades of disuse.
“Yes, Thomas?”
They both laid on their backs underneath the wisteria tree, watching the petals fall and the stars glimmer.
(Stars. Stars! Watercolor Boy had gifted them with stars.)
“The Artist. The Creator. Who is it?”
“Who made me?”
“Yes.”
“Y/N,” Luna trailed off, her voice a comforting dreamy sound. Thick like honey, but too light to touch.
(Tom should ask Watercolor Boy to paint him honey. It would go well with the biscuits from the painted feast.)
“Y/N?”
“Oh, he’s lovely. You would quite well get along,” Luna murmured, closing her eyes and humming some unknown song.
“Y/N…” Tom mumbled under his breath.
~~~
“Thomas,” Luna sings, spinning around barefoot in the center of his hut. Her wand (that doesn’t work inside the diary, as it turns out) is tucked behind her ear, threatening to fall with every movement.
“Yes, Luna?” Tom looks up from his copy of the Quibbler. (The issue was from 1997. 1997!)
“There’s a door.”
Tom blinked. “A door?”
“Yes,” Luna murmured, her earrings swinging as she spun around again. “It’s not painted. It just appeared. Right there,” she slows her spin to point at the wall, where sure enough, there is a door. It’s not a true door, though. It looks cut, like someone took scissors to his beautiful hut and left a jagged doorway.
Tom stood. “Do we- should we go in?”
“I can’t leave, Thomas,” Luna smiles. “I already know. I can see it. I’m not real, so I can’t leave. But you’re real.”
“You- it leads to outside the diary?”
“Yes. I’m just a painting, so I am afraid I cannot accompany you. It was lovely meeting you, Thomas. I’ve much appreciated our friendship, however short lived.”
Tom touched the jagged edge of the door and gasped when the paper cut his fingertips. “I can’t just leave you, Luna. I’ll- I’ll miss you.”
“I won’t be truly gone,” she smiles again, that lovely dreamy smile. “If I never existed, then I can’t ever really be gone.”
Her words hit him hard.
“I’ll miss you anyways,” he said stubbornly, feeling a bit like a child again.
Luna stopped spinning entirely, stepping forward to grab ahold of Tom’s hand, and maneuvering it palm up in front of them.
Tom gasped.
His palm and fingers were streaked with blood from the paper cuts.
Red.
Blood.
Not ink. Blood.
Tom was alive.
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