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skyloftian-nutcase · 2 days

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Hemisi hugged herself worriedly as her parents approached her. Ganondorf wasn't entirely sure what was bothering his daughter - things had been tense since the attack, but he had just ensured peace by swearing fealty to Rauru. This was supposed to be a moment of reprieve, a time for his family to not worry as he prepared for the future.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Nabooru asked before he could.

"I haven't found Link," Hemisi said, her voice anxious. "I've been looking everywhere for him. The guards won't really tell me much."

Ganondorf fel this ire rise. The guards likely were trying to protect Link, but they had no right to refuse information to the princess of the Gerudo. Such a slight would not be ignored. Not to mention he too wanted to know where the boy was.

"Leave this to me," he said crisply, walking away.

It didn't take much time (or threatening glares) to get what he needed. Link, apparently, was on a place called Thunderhead Island, one of the Zonai lands in the sky.

"Thunderhead Island?" Nabooru repeated after Ganondorf reported back. "We'd need a construct to get us up there, right?"

"Yeah," Hemisi answered. "Link's told me about the islands lots of times. Not many are allowed on them - it's usually just the royal family and the Sheikah."

"They'll allow me," Ganondorf rumbled, crossing his arms. "I am a king."

"Yes, but that island is also fairly volatile," Nabooru argued. "I'm better with lightning magic. I should go."

Personally, Ganondorf was far more inclined to go retrieve the boy himself, but he didn't contest the matter. Nabooru seemed rather set on the issue, and some things weren't worth arguing with her. As much as he admired her determination, he also knew she would fight him for so long that Hemisi would probably just sneak off to do the deed herself, and neither parent wanted that. The girl's abilities with lightning were formidable, but she would likely cause trouble if she went alone.

"Very well," he conceded. "We'll be waiting down here."

Nodding, Nabooru grabbed a cloak and headed towards the nearest construct. At activated at her approach, acknowledging in a mechanically musical chime, "May I help you?"

"I need to get to Thunderhead Island," Nabooru said.

The construct's reply was quick as ever. "That place is restricted."

"I am the queen of the Gerudo," Nabooru replied. "I have special access."

The construct paused a moment, processing, before noting, "I will need authorization for you to go there."

"This is an emergency," Nabooru argued. "You can speak to King Rauru about it afterwards if you please, I don't care, but one of my family is up there and I need to find him."

Although the construct was programmed to gate keep, she also knew giving a sense of urgency or danger would override its usual algorithm. Predictably, the construct questioned, "Is someone in danger?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "That's what I'm trying to find out."

The Zonai machine was silent for a moment before giving an admission. "This line of logic is acceptable. I will transport you to Thunderhead Island and report the matter to King Rauru."

"You do that," she sighed. It didn't really matter of Rauru knew. Nabooru wasn't exactly keen on causing a stir within hours of Ganondorf swearing his loyalty, especially given their history, but something Hemisi's anxiety and Link's very obvious disappearance was definitely concerning. Considering the ceremony that had just happened and the celebration that had followed, Link should have been one of the first people they saw.

The construct extended its hand in front of a stone circle, and the familiar green hue of Zonai technology activated, glowing in the circle's center. Nabooru stepped forward, letting it transport her, closing her eyes as her world shifted. The air grew much colder, even more frigid than she was expecting, and she suddenly felt a little short of breath. Goddess, she'd thought the Highlands were chilly. Why was the air so much stranger here? She was shocked into opening her eyes as her cloak was immediately bombarded by a wave of rain, thunder rumbling all around her. A circular fountain of water was in front of her, surrounded by stone architecture. She walked forward, off the platform on the ground that had received her. She needed to set to work soon, already feeling a little lightheaded.

A few steps ahead it became apparent that this island wasn't just an island, but an entire chain of them. Nabooru glanced around hesitantly, looking for some kind of Zonai device to help transport her from place to place, and found none. What was Link doing here? Where was he?

Nabooru looked between pillars, on and under benches, until she'd thoroughly searched the island she was on and the few she could see. But a flash of blonde caught her attention just as she was starting to wonder if Ganondorf had been wrong, and she squinted against the rainfall to see a teenager sitting on the ground, knees tucked into his chest, wearing the attire of the palace guards combined with a headdress and Gerudo earrings gifted to him by his betrothed.

Clamping her jaw shut against the tremors that tried to make her teeth chatter, Nabooru wrapped herself more tightly in her cloak, she found a set of stairs that at least connected to this little island, moving quickly down them. Link, for whatever reason, chose to sit outside a small building, ignoring a construct nearby that was tending to a tree. The boy was soaked to the bone, red skin paint that usually adorned his exposed arm having long been washed away from his tan complexion. His red eyes were dull, hidden under platinum blonde plaits plastered to his forehead. The sparkling splendor of the Gerudo headband and earrings was dulled considerably, and his top knot was half undone in the rain.

"Link," Nabooru called a little loudly so she could be heard. "What are you doing out here?"

Link didn't seem to react all that much, or at least it wasn't apparent in this awful weather. But she heard him mutter, "You're not supposed to be here."

"Nor should you be here," Nabooru accused mildly, walking towards him. She paused short of reaching him, seeing him clam up even more. "News of our arrival has been known for at least a week. Yet on the day that Ganondorf creates peace between the Gerudo and Hyrule, you hide from us? Hemisi's been looking for you."

"Ganondorf attacked Hyrule." Link's words were sharp, dark. He was clearly still upset about the molduga assault.

Nabooru sighed. This really wasn't the place to be having this discussion - she was freezing and dizzy, and if he got any more soaked the boy would practically be a Zora. "Yes. He did. You know him, sweetheart. He likes to test his boundaries before he concedes to them. But he's conceded."

Link tucked his chin to his chest, looking away.

"Honey, the fight is over," Nabooru pressed on, stepping closer to him. "And for the first time, the Gerudo now have an alliance with Hyrule. We're a part of it - this would mean you and Hemisi don't have to hide your relationship from the public eye anymore, that there is nothing to hide anymore. This is a joyous occasion, not a reason to be moping in the rain. Come down with me so you can be with your family, love."

She finally cleared the distance between them, crouching down and putting a hand on his shoulder. Link glared moodily at the lands below, eye lashes dripping with moisture. Quietly, almost to himself, he said, "Ganondorf never concedes."

"Well, he did," Nabooru emphasized slowly. Link had not been included in the discussion of their attack on Hyrule, had been completely blindsided as Ganondorf had suggested he and Hemisi play and explore near the mines that day so they wouldn't be involved. Nabooru knew that as a member of the Sheikah tribe he would likely take it harder than most Hyrulians, but she hadn't expected quite the grudge he seemed to be holding. "Come on, love. You're freezing."

Lightning struck a small spire at the top of the building they were sitting near, making Nabooru straighten up and prepare for another strike. Thunder clapped so loudly it made her chest vibrate. Link sighed, slowly pushing to his feet. He must have been sitting for some time, swaying a little unsteadily, and Nabooru put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him inside the structure. Constructs were indoors, stoking a fire, and she approached one. "Can you take us back to the Royal Plateau?"

The little machine beeped in the affirmative, guiding them to a hover platform that sent them back to the originating island. Nabooru's hands were on Link's shoulders the entire time, feeling them tremble under her, and she pulled him close so they could share her cloak. His skin was ice cold, making her inhale sharply a little when he brushed against her exposed arms and abdomen. A headache was brewing in her forehead, and she was certainly ready to leave this dreary place.

When the pair teleported back, Ganondorf and Hemisi were there waiting for them.

"Link!" Hemisi exclaimed, rushing forward and dragging him into a hug. "You idiot, why are you soaking wet?! Where've you been?!"

"Hon, can you spare your robe?" Nabooru asked, still holding the boy to her.

Her husband complied without question, pulling off his dark outer robe and holding it out. The parents exchanged Link, one set of arms to the other, and the boy was wrapped up and held against Ganondorf quickly. He didn't argue, he didn't protest, he didn't speak as Hemisi bombarded him with questions. The king and queen exchanged a look, and the family moved towards their provided quarters in the palace.

Eventually, Link started to speak softly to his betrothed, seeming less agitated with her, and soon the two were both cuddling under Ganondorf's large garment. Nabooru moved to fetch servants so they could get him fresh clothes and some warm food, and Hemisi moved quickly to the task as well, saying she was going to grab towels.

That left Ganondorf and Link.

"So were you up there sulking the entire time since the assault?" Ganondorf finally said, getting to the point as he knelt down to the boy's eye level.

"No." Link's reply wasn't quite snappish, but it was certainly sharp, though not nearly as sharp as his eyes. Ganondorf smiled at the fire in them, the anger and force of will that refused to bow down to anything. "Just for your arrival."

"If you thought we wouldn't find you, you clearly don't know us as well as you should," Ganondorf noted with mild humor, pulling the robe over the boy's head to dry his hair. He carefully removed the pins and tie holding the top knot, tucking them into a pouch on his belt. Link didn't protest, though his gaze did drift to the floor, softening, showing the wound he'd been bearing in his heart. Ganondorf felt... more than a little exasperated, but he'd known the boy would be upset. Still... "Hold whatever grudge you wish against me, child, but do not share your ire with Hemisi. She didn't know about the attack. I suggested you two be near the mines that day for a reason."

Link sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

"The fighting is over," Ganondorf emphasized, putting weight in his voice to end this pointless adolescent moping. Then he smiled. "And now the world can know your place in our family."

The boy glanced up, hope shimmering in crimson orbs, tempered by an intelligence he often hid behind innocence and silence. "Why did you do it?"

"Why did I attack?"

"No. Why did you give up?"

"I don't give up," Ganondorf retorted a little irritatedly, pausing his ministrations.

"I know," Link immediately acknowledge firmly. "So why? You don't acknowledge defeat."

"Oh, Link," Ganondorf hummed with gentle amusement, proud of the boy's insight. He was going to make a good prince. But it would make the next months a little difficult if the king wasn't careful. "A strong warrior refuses to give up, but a wise one knows when he is defeated. I am both. It's pointless to fight a force you cannot win against."

Link still looked skeptical, confused. Ganondorf added, "How else could we build peace for you and Hemisi?"

His words seemed to catch the boy off guard. For a moment, Ganondorf really wondered if Link didn't actually think they cared, despite having spent over a year being welcomed into the family. For a moment, the king wondered if the boy really was that dull, or somehow he and his wife hadn't done something right. And then Link bit his lip, shivering, and hugged himself, clearly trying to contain emotion and not quite succeeding.

Ganondorf sighed, letting the boy be vulnerable for a moment. He pulled him close, and Link sank into the embrace, curled in against his chest.

Link would be a good prince. Ganondorf knew this. He just needed to hone the boy a little more, reassure him and teach him, let him enjoy his time with Hemisi. A war was brewing soon. It was best to enjoy this time while he could.

#tears of the kingdom #totk #hero of shadow #ganondorf #nabooru #hemisi #writing #idk lovelies #this scene popped in my head and I couldn't get rid of it and couldn't go to bed until I'd written it so #Link knows Gan very well #he knows he doesn't just “give up” from a challenge #but he does not in the slightest fathom exactly how far Gan will go #so he just trusts his word #I always thought it was so weird that the order of Zelda's memories show a Gerudo assault first and THEN Gan's like “Let's be friends :D”#Like I figured he'd swear his fealty first and THEN try to attack and THEN realize he needed to get a secret stone #like I get it from Gan's perspective but from RAURU'S it seems a VERY dumb move to just let Gan wander your palace after that???#Like dude #Rauru #you're kind of an idiot #ESPECIALLY since ZELDA knew this guy was trouble #and he's already attacked your kingdom!!!#like #RAURU #king rauru #why man #you're an idiot #like I don't mind his character but #what the heck #dumb move #even Link thinks so lol

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spicyraeman · 1 year

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#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 photomode #cp2077 photomode #nbvnesdays #cyberpunk oc #oc: lynk #august asylum #lynk 100% had a black hair phase #also pls ignore the weird neck shadow #its from his arm and I can't get rid of it

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nomaishuttle · 11 months

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AAAANYways. look at the map ive been working on :]

#its actually rlyyy unfortunate bc ive been spending all day sprucing it up it ws originally just generated by the globe making site i like #and then i realized that i dont quitee know how to make the height map.. the original generation it ws rly easy i just made the map #grayscale and then futzed with it a little bit and i got it looking rly good..but im the process of lining everything to make it easier to #comprehend they got too seperate from eachother sighs. so i might have to go in and manually add more transitional colors #but the trouble is id have to do that for the height map AND the normal map which is also a geographical map..#also its rly weird. on da site i rly prefer the look of the 3d heightmap #rather than 2d just adding like shadows your know #but when i do the 3d it gets this huge black blotch that i cant for the life of me get rid of #and it rly sucks. bc i think its sooo cute when i have the height map intensity set pretty high #bc it makes da planet look small..#but yas. and i cant just use the uhmm original height map #bc i made some pretttyy extensive edits #not rly. mainly i #well its hard t talk abt bc its all technically one continent but that ties into what i changed #bc i didnt realize it was all one continent bc on the original map it generated it was cut up rly weird #and i couldnt get it to fit as one thing. so i went in and smushed some aprts closer together #the biggest is umm the bottom right corner #the top part of that mass USED to hang down below and to the rifht #and bled over to the other side of the image #i moved that and the top left land mass to be closer to the top right #so i could fit it all together...#and the hright map thing wouldnt be an issue if the 3d height map thing was working. it just looks sliiiightly wonky with the 2d height map #i also need to smooth out the whole thing bc i used a digital brush like an IDIOT and i dont like how that looks when its on the sphere #oh also do u guys wanna see the globe of it.. grins #ik i was already doing this awhile ago but ohwell.#once i get it wayyy more finalized like. once ive added in major settlements and the like. id love to try to make an actual globe of it..#i wanna get it to a point im rly happy with FIRST bc otherwise ill change things on the globe #and then ill get annoyed bc i wont be able to transfer the irl globe into a digital one #bc thats what happened last time when i sketched a world on a ball. grins.#hopefully i dont drop this one like i did with that one.. idt i will since i have an accurate flat map thats literally made to be a globe

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robo-dino-puppy · 1 year

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light weaver (sobeck’s raiment)

hfw face(paint)s 24/?

#horizon forbidden west #hfw #aloy #sobeck's raiment #was doing a cauldron and i thought i'd try this outfit #but I didn't know what facepaint to use if any #then i managed to get a shot of her through one of the forcefield thingies #with a nice light/shadow going on #and i thought the quen light weaver might be nice #i like how it turned out #did a little editing to get rid of a weird shadow on her chin #hfw facepaints

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naturalbornlosers · 1 year

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might fuck around and read death note as an allegory for hiding one’s true queer self for fear of being found out and outed/etc in a queerphobic society even in the face of people who are literally just like you and open about it

#does this reading make ANY sense? no <3 #but im rewatching death note and light and Ls parallels are. hmmmmmmmmmmmmm #yeah i get it now #i think i understand why ppl were shipping them SO hard when i was a kid #Statement.txt #hiding a terrible secret that could get you arrested? have a looming shadow over your shoulders that reveals pieces of your true nature?#bonding with the only person who can See You but only doing it so you can get rid of him bc he poses a threat?#but also finding a weird sense of comfort in being Seen despite all the terrors it poses?#just saying <3

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mintmentos · 1 year

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I know the costumes were definitely designed to hide the antlers this season, but considering all they did for half the time was talk about amplifiers we didn’t once see the antlers or even the shape of them under alina’s clothes

#idk it felt really weird like I’d get wearing clothes to hide them but surely we’d see soemthing?#also it’s just come to me I’m p sure we saw her collar bones/shoulders with mal in that one scene and I don’t remember the antlers. did they #get rid of the somehow while keeping the power? baffled #shadow and bone #shadow and bone spoilers #kiera talks tv

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illyrianbitch · 2 months

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Worth It

Pairing: Reader x Bat Boys

Summary: It can be hard to remember why you’ve put up with your best friends for centuries-- until they remind you why they're worth it.

Warnings: irritation cause of males? perhaps? friendship fluff. boys being boys aka bat boys are immature male dummies and reader is fed up.

Word Count: 3.4k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

“Are you guys idiots?”

Your voice was a loud bellow as you made your way into Rhysand’s office. From the look on your face, the three males quickly realized that their dirty little secret had been exposed– something that they were all expecting, Azriel being the first to mention that they hadn’t done a great job at hiding it.

Sure, it was a silly idea for them to keep an ancient cursed object. Rhysand didn’t think it was real, when Cassian came running home and claiming he won it in a bet. The person seemed awfully enthusiastic to get rid of it, Cass had said, told me that it would change my life forever. Weird guy. It only took one interaction for Azriel’s shadows to instantly skitter from the small gold thing, whispering into Azriel’s ears like scared children. Cursed, old, evil, run.

Rhysand was going to tell you that they kept it, to get a better idea of it, that's all, and that it just so happened to be sitting on the table near your room. He was. At least, he planned on it.

It was Cassian who made the first move, leaning to the side and lowering his head slightly to Rhysand. “This feels like a trick question,” he attempted to whisper, but the sound was loud enough to carry through the room.

You ignored him, instead glaring at the violet eyes that held your gaze.

“You didn’t think to tell me about something this dangerous?”

“I just thought-”

“Thought what?” You asked him, mouth agape, “That you’d just lie to me about living with a deadly object?”

“We didn’t lie, we just didn’t tell you,” Cassian clarified innocently. He regretted his input once your stare met his and he quickly muttered out a small apology, looking to become as small as he could make his large form to be.

“And thats better?”

Rhysand let out a deep breath.

“Y/n, just calm down.”

Your head snapped to face him at a force that made him question how you hadn’t broken it. Rhysand’s eyes widened as they met yours, a sense of rage now flickering in your gaze. Azriel instantly grimaced at the words of his brother, his gaze meeting Cassian’s, whose eyes were wide as his mouth formed a small “oh.” Both males took a cautionary step backwards.

“Calm down?” you repeated, slowly stalking towards Rhysand with an icy calmness that made him instantly shrink.

“Well,” he started putting one palm out towards you, “I just mean that we should sit down and think rationally about this.”

“Think rationally?”

Rhysand looked over his shoulders in an attempt to seek some backup, but Cassian averted his gaze and Azriel simply shook his head. You’ve done it now, was what Azriel’s gaze seemed to say. His shadows curled around him, slithering up his body until they were peeking over his shoulders, alert and ready to watch— in amusement, it would seem.

Rhys nervously laughed.

“Can we start over?”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Compared to the others, your bedroom was extremely large, adorned with its own fireplace and seating area. But with the three Illyrian males standing around you, it felt quite cramped. You watched as they wandered around your room, picking up your stuff and throwing it to each other. This was your fault, of course, since you’d specifically asked for them to come.

“Guys,” you said, “can we focus, please.”

The three males turned around to face you, all looking at you with wide stares and raised brows, as if they had been caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing.

“Right,” Rhysand said as he balanced a small porcelain heart in his hand, a Solstice gift from Mor. He quickly glanced down at the object, eyes widening slightly before he turned his head and threw it in the air, effectively tossing it off to Cassian, who caught it with parted lips.

“Dude.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you walked forward.“Give me that,” you said as you ripped the item out of the males large, calloused hands.

“I need one of you to help me make Landon jealous.”

“Not it,” Rhys said, the words quickly tumbling out of his mouth as his hands flew up in surrender.

You stared at him blankly, your lips forming into a tight line.

“What?”

The line quickly turned into a scowl as you held his stare, a look of innocence on his beautiful features.

“Am I truly that hideous you don’t want to help me out?”

“Oh, please,” Rhysand said with a dramatic scoff, “You know you’re hot. We know you’re hot. But It’s not my fault you can’t flirt normally. This is a perfect night for me to get some, so, I can’t.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms carefully, the porcelain heart safely in your grasp.

“Were the two guys from last night not enough?”

Instantly, a smug grin found its way onto Rhysand’s face.

“Oh, c’mon,” he said, his voice low and sultry. A sense of pride clung to him. “I’m a growing male, I have a healthy appetite.”

From beside him, Cassian nodded with a grin, putting his knuckles out for Rhys to give him a fist bump. Azriel simply let out a small laugh and shook his head, eyes trained on you as you grimaced, your nose crinkled with a frown.

“You make it sound like you're eating them.”

Somehow, the grin grew, his pearly white teeth gleaming at you.

“Aren’t I?”

“You’re gross,” you responded, “I don’t want your help anyways.”

Rhysand let his mouth fall open in feign offense and you seized the moment to flip him off– a vulgar gesture that he instantly returned. Azriel and Cassian exchanged a glance.

“I got you, Y/n,” Cass finally said, walking up to you to wrap his arm around your shoulder. He pulled you into his embrace, looking down at you with a large, wolfish grin. You held his eyes for a moment, thinking about how well Cassian fit into your plans. A subtle sense of doubt crept into you, and once Cassian wiggled his eyebrows, you were done for. Your eyes instantly flickered to the last of your best friends.

“Az?” Your voice was a soft plea, accompanied by a small, unsure smile that had Azriel sigh in defeat.

Cassian scoffed, pulling apart from you in an effort to see your entire face. “What? Why him?”

You gave a sheepish smile, your gaze bouncing between the three males before settling on him once more. “I love you, Cassian, but you won’t make him jealous.”

“And why not?”

It was Azriel who responded with a small snicker, “Because you’re easy.”

Cassian’s mouth was open in shock as he registered the statement, his eyelids falling in soft blinks before he let out another scoff.

“Well now I’m offended.”

“Don’t be,” Rhys said from across the room as he fell down on your couch, propping up his legs on the arms of it. “It means you’ve got a good game. Think about how many people you’ve fucked thats gotten you such a title. I mean the amount of puss-”

You let out a loud groan, pushing Cassian off you with a soft shove.

“Oh my Gods, we get it. You guys are slutty. Can we get back to me now? Please?”

Your words were only met with a round of laughter.

“And get your dirty shoes off my couch, Rhys.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

“What the fuck happened to my cake?” You seethed, the words coming out bitter and sharp. The door slammed behind you as it collided with the wall, the impact of your entrance causing a dent in the surface.

The boys visibly recoiled, Cassian flinching at the roughness of your voice, a voice that was usually comforting and soft. The three males exchanged wary glances, and then Rhysand was lifting his chin.

“I-” he started, only to be interrupted by a cough from Cassian, “We don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“My powdered sugar pound cake, Rhysand. I know you guys did something. Where is it? Did you eat it? Destroy it?”

Another beat of silence. You were sure your teeth were bound to break with the force of your clenched jaw, your teeth gritting harder with every minute spent looking at their avoiding eyes.

“We didn’t touch your cake, Y/n.”

You glared at Rhys, the apparent dedicated spokesmen of the three, and let out a harsh exhale.

“There is powdered sugar on your hands!” You said, shoving an accusatory finger at them. "Right now!”

The males all simultaneously looked down at their hands, Cassian gasping in feign surprise– a sound so exaggerated you resisted the urge to hit him on the side of the head for the act alone. Rhysand was a bit more subtle, bringing his hands up to his face, examining them, and then tossing a casual shrug your way.

“This is completely unrelated powdered sugar.”

With a flare of your nostrils, you turned your head to face Azriel, who met your gaze with a small smirk on his face, of all things.

“And what's your excuse, Az?”

He shook his head. “Don’t have one.”

“So you admit you guys ate it?”

“I didn’t admit anything.”

You clenched your hands into fists, your fingernails digging into the skin of your palms.

“Yes you did.”

Azriel’s eyebrow quirked, and then he was narrowing his eyes at you.

“Did I?”

“Yeah, Y/n, did he?” Cassian echoed, putting his hands on his hips.

Your nostrils flared as your gaze bounced between the three males. You wanted to take all three of their heads and knock them together, hope that one of them would produce a module of maturity.

They braced themselves for an outburst, for you to run up to one of them and hit them in the face, if anything, but nothing came. Instead you looked away and shook your head.

“Fuck you, guys. You suck. Gods.”

And you left.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You came to a halt as you turned the corner, now staring into the living room where your best friends stood shirtless next to one another, a determined look on their faces.

"What the hell are you guys doing?"

Rhys looked up with a grin. "We're settling a debate," he said, gesturing to the tape measure in his grip. "Gonna find out who's got the biggest wingspan."

You raised an eyebrow, bringing your finger up to your lips as you laughed.

"Want to place a bet?" Azriel said as he rolled his back, a small smirk on his lips.

Cassian flexed his wings behind him, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he shook loose pieces of hair out of his face. "I'm pretty sure it's me," he boasted.

Rhys shook his head, his wings unfolding slightly as he stood up taller. "Not a chance," he countered. "I think you'll find mine's larger."

"What does wingspan really determine?" You asked incredulously.

You watched as all three males blinked, staring at you as if you had spoken in a tongue different than your own.

"Uh," Cass said, lifting a finger, "Absolutely everything, my dear, Y/n."

You rolled your eyes at him, but began walking to them in spite of yourself. When you found yourself in front of Rhysand, you looked up and put your palm out.

Rhys frowned, eyebrows furrowing at the outstretched hand.

"Well?" You said, raising your eyebrows. "For a proper assessment, you need a fair judge."

He grinned, enthusiastically shoving the tape measure into your palm.

"Alright boys," Rhys said, turning around to face his brothers, stretching his hands out as his wings extended behind him-- almost hitting you in the face. "Let's settle this."

One by one, your friends approached you, Rhysand with a grin, Azriel with a smirk, shadows pointed at the edge of his wings, and Cassian with a cheeky wink.

After all three had been measured, you stepped back, trying to hide your grin. "Looks like we have a winner."

Cassian puffed out his chest triumphantly. "I knew it!"

You raised an eyebrow. "Actually, Azriel's wingspan is slightly larger."

Cassian's face fell as Az let out a loud laugh in victory, shadows surrounding Cass like a mocking audience. He swatted them away with his hands.

Rhys chuckled, clapping Cassian on the back. "Looks like you'll have to concede this one, Cass. Being last place isn't so bad."

Cassian frowned. "Azriel cheated! His shadows held his wings up, I swear."

A snicker in response.

"Yeah, yeah, you're a sore loser."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

"Why do you look like that?"

You gasped in surprise, your hand flying to your heart as you turned to the source of the voice. Cassian stood in your doorway, casually leaning against the doorframe as he bit into an apple.

"Cassian!" You scolded, pushing your hair off your shoulder as you walked towards him. "You can't just come into my room and scare me like that!"

"Why not?" He said, mouth filled to brim with chewed apple bits.

You stared at his mouth with a frown, lifting your hand so that your nail could slightly scrape off a piece stuck to the stubble on his chin. Cassian gave you a smile as he finished chewing, wiping off his mouth with his free hand.

"Gross," you muttered. You shook off your hand before looking at him again, "And you just can't."

"Well I'm here, so, seems like I can."

You rolled your eyes, but Cass only smiled at the reaction.

"So why are you dressed like that?"

You frowned. "Like what?"

"Good. Like, hot.”

"Gee, thanks," you deadpanned, your head tilting to the side as you gave him a blank stare "You sure know how to make me feel confident."

Cassian let out a laugh, placing a soft, large hand on your forearm. "No, no, you always look good. But where ya going?"

You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks, but before you could respond, Rhys appeared behind Cassian, curiosity written all over his face.

"What's happening?" He said as walked in, throwing himself onto your bed. He frowned as his eyes scanned you. "You look pretty. What's going on?"

You let out an exasperated sigh, realizing you were about to have an audience.

"Guys, get out," you said firmly. "I'm going on a date."

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a quick glance before both of the males broke out into large grins.

"Ooooh, a date?" Cassian teased, brushing past you to sit next to Rhysand on your bed.

"Yes, now get out."

You walked towards them, attempting to grab their hands and pull them up with the sheer force of will. Between your futile attempts, Azriel's voice sounded from the doorway. "What are we all doing in your room?"

You let out a loud groan. "Where do you guys keep coming from?"

You turned around to face him, hands on your hips and an annoyed frown on your lips. Just as his brothers did, Azriel's eyes scanned your appearance.

"You look good," he said. His shadows curled around his body, a few around his ear as the corners of his lips turned upwards. "You're going on a date?"

From behind you, Cassian and Rhysand broke out into a sound that you could only describe as a giggle, the grown males turning to one another to make theatrical kissing sounds.

"You guys are so annoying. Get out."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

There was a soft knock at your door.

You groaned, slipping yourself further into your covers.

The knock came once more and you closed your eyes, hitting the back of your head against your pillow. "Leave me alone!"

Much to your dismay, your protest was met with the sound of your door opening and a heavy set of footsteps approaching your bed. It only took a few seconds before your beige covers were being lifted off your face. You squinted at the light that met your eyes.

"Well, look who's alive."

You scowled as your eyes met Rhysand's violet ones, a large smile on his face as he hovered over you. There was a softness in his eyes that made you feel guilty for the expression, and the scowl quickly turned into a small frown.

As you pulled yourself upright, Rhysand made himself comfortable at the edge of your bed. "How you feeling?"

Your knew your eyes were puffy and sensitive from the crying you'd done all night. You were grateful it was Rhysand who sat in front of you, someone you weren't embarrassed to be seen in such a state with.

"I just got cheated on,” you murmured, rubbing your face with your hands. "How do you think I'm feeling?"

He sighed, a small frown on his lips as he urged you to scoot farther into the bed, making room for him to situate himself next to you. As he maneuvered, you caught sight of your bedside table, now decorated with a large bouquet of multicolored flowers, delicately wrapped in with a white bow. Next to it sat a small bear, its fur a white and blue pattern that perfectly matched that of the ceramic heart gifted to you from Mor.

"Are those for me?"

Rhysand quickly glanced over before giving you a nod.

"Yeah," he said, "The florist gave me a whole explanation for every flower. I told her that I wanted to g-"

Rhys stopped as he noticed your staring, eyes wide as you looked at him, lips curled down. "What?" he asked.

You felt your lip quiver, a small burn in your chest as you looked at him. Realization quickly flickered in his eyes--- realization that you were about to start sobbing.

"Don't make it a thing," Rhys said, staring at you blankly. But as your eyes began to well with tears, his facade quickly broke and he sighed, putting an arm around you and pulling you in. "I had to take care of my best girl, okay?"

Your nose tickled as the corners of your eyesight became blurry, a sudden pool of tears now at the corners of your eyes. "Thank you," you told him, as you burrowed yourself further into his embrace.

You closed your eyes, taking a moment to bathe in the comfortable silence. But a second quickly passed, and both you and Rhysand jerked at the sound of your door slamming into the wall.

"I'm here!" Cassian's voice boomed.

You blinked at the sight in front of you, Cassian's hair messily tied together atop of his head, his hands barely containing a pile of food assortments. His chin rested against 2 tubs of ice cream haphazardly stacked on top one another, his palms desperately grabbing onto a variety of chocolates, candies, bags of chips, and fruits.

His eyes met yours, instantly softening at your appearance. He gave you a smile. "Hey, beautiful. Nice to see ya."

"What you got there, Cass?" Rhys said, his head tilting as he closely scanned the pile his brother clutched to his chest.

"I got everything," he responded, eyes darting between you and Rhys. They settled on you as he continued, "I didn't know what you'd want."

You let out a laugh, your cheeks suddenly straining from the impact of your smile. Your face fell as you examined his haul, your brows furrowing as you pointed to a small plastic bag.

"Are those... pads?"

Cassian attempted to look down, but the ice cream containers beneath his chin constricted his movements. "I'm not sure, the lady at the store said you probably needed them with everything I was buying."

Rhysand let out a snort at this, his hand affectionately rubbing up and down your bicep. You smiled as Cassian shuffled to your couch, carefully dropping the ideas on your cushions, and then moving to place the rest on the table.

"Hey," you said with a frown, "Wheres Az?"

Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a glance.

"What?" You asked, looking between the two males. "Where is he?"

Cassian gave you a sheepish smile and then Rhys was laughing, a deep sound that you felt as his chest moved beneath you.

"Where do you think? He's beating the shit out of Landon."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

oh how nice it would be to live with the batboys with the vibes of new girl 😌 (until they do something stupid)

a/n: i’m slowly getting all my drafts and requests out 🫶🏻

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yandere-daze · 11 months

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Thank you everyone for the big support on the RE2 Leon post! I was honestly blown away by all the nice comments I got 🥺💕

And now I'm back for more ^^

Hope you enjoy!

gn reader

tw yandere, obsession, over-protectiveness, possessiveness, heavily implied murder, implied stalking, kidnapping, jealousy

General Yandere! RE4 Leon headcanons

Above all else, Yandere! RE4 Leon is very protective of you, the dearest person in his life. To a very unhealthy degree.

He has always been protective but a lot has changed since his first day as a rookie. Leon has seen a lot, he knows how truly horrifying and cruel the world can be. He knows what dangers lurk in the shadows, just waiting for an opportunity to strike and snatch away his beloved.

He doesn't want you to go through what he has. He wants you to be safe at all costs. He simply can't risk losing you, you're everything to him. You're what keeps him grounded, the one beacon of light in the darkness that threatens to consume him every day.

His many missions have broken him, Leon is not the same person he used to be and that too reflects in subtle changes in his yandere behaviour.

He remains very protective, insanely so, but it´s not quite in the same way as RE2 Leon was. He has become pretty jaded and that also translates to him being more merciless when it comes to shooting down anyone that could be perceived as a threat.

There´s no more slight hesitation before going through with killing someone and pulling the trigger, no deliberation, he won´t leave even a sliver of a chance of something hurting you and that extends to zombies, cultists, or rude strangers alike.

He still likes showing off in front of you, proving to you how capable and reliable he is, but he would rather avoid having you witness him getting rid of the latter ones.

He´s sure you won´t object to him getting rid of horrifying eldritch horrors but he fears your naivete won´t allow you to see the other dangers lurking right around the corner. People everywhere that are secretly out to hurt you. People that have bad intentions. People that try to get between the two of you.

He certainly won´t forgive that friend of yours that told you how "scary" Leon´s glare was whenever he looked at someone that wasn´t you. And isn´t it weird that he´s somehow always there whenever you´re in trouble? And they could have sworn they saw him standing outside your window back when you had your sleepover at your house...

Of course Leon couldn´t let this continue any longer. What if you started listening to them and tried to keep your distance? Leon couldn´t bear that. How is he supposed to make sure you´re safe if you won´t let him?

He knows he needs to do something about this so-called friend of yours. Maybe at first he will start "small" and simply start incriminating them for crimes they didn´t commit. It´s truly scary how little you know about your friends, right? Who would have thought that they would turn out to be a criminal?

Leon hopes that will be enough to make them stay away but if they´re particularly persistent... Well, he knows just how to deal with obstacles that are in his way. His position as a special agent gives him plenty of opportunities to make that person simply disappear from all records after mysteriously vanishing.

But don´t worry, Leon will be right by your side, holding you tight and mourning the loss of your friend right with you. It´s really so terrible what happened to them but at least you have him! And he won´t ever leave you.

Now of course, if you yourself were acting difficult, continuously getting yourself into danger, ignoring all of his advice ( don´t leave your house without him. always keep him updated on what you´re currently doing. never go on a date with a stranger..) or avoiding him in any way, Leon would feel forced to take some drastic measures to ensure that you´ll always remain safe and his alone.

While RE2 Leon would not have gone so far as to kidnap you, RE4 Leon absolutely would. It would not be his first choice but in this case, he feels like there is no other way. He would rather keep you locked up for the rest of your life than lose you. He just cannot bear ever having to live without you, now that he has found you.

You´re the only good thing in his life and he´ll be damned if he´ll let anything happen to you.

Of course he understands why you´re mad at him afterwards and it breaks his heart to see you upset with him, but he´ll suffer through it all in the hopes that you´ll one day understand why he had to do what he did.

He´s sure you will come around to him one day and then you´ll finally live the happy life he you both always wanted. In the meantime, he´ll treat you with gentle care ( well, as gentle as Leon can be. His displays of affection are still pretty awkward and stilted even though he tries very hard) and makes sure all your needs are met.

He´ll also let you get away with many things like screaming at him, ignoring him or backing away from his touch, as long as you don´t try to escape him. You may hate him at the moment, but at least nothing can get in here and hurt you while he´s constantly monitoring you.

Leon hopes that one day you´ll be able to move on from this and become a normal couple, but he doesn´t really mind having you all to himself with no prying eyes right now. He´s very possessive too and he´d just hate having to get rid of another stranger that looked at you a second too long for his tastes.

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regularcitrus · 11 months

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(3/3) unita speciale and ending hijinks

- i wish i didn’t have to split this part into 3 there’s too many gd freakshows in golden wind (also lots of dragons this part i just realized)

- once again, the arrow is way more unpredictable here than in canon, it’s effects could range from slightly improved physical abilities to creating a weird shadow creature to making someone an alicorn

- Chariot stabbed himself with the arrow before dying, but he was able to possess the magic turtle shell before disappearing, which he just lives in after that. the stabbing allowed his strong determination to keep the arrow away from Devil Darner manifest into a physical form, Requiem

- speaking of Devil the reason he wants the arrow in the first place is cause he sees anyone else having it as a threat, instead of whatever happened in canon

- Requiem was based on the pony of shadows kinda, it’s more of an apparition than anything. Devil (who has also ended up as a kind of phantom similar to ghosty Sombra) gets rid of him in a weird spirit battle kinda thing and reverts all the soul swaps. Devil stays in this form though, which is how Glory is able to throw him out of space-time in the first place

- (the whole phantom thing is supposed to be like when he was just a stand and possessing people and stuff) the diavolo fight and the requiem stuff still confuses me honestly lmfao

1 / 2 / 3

Phantom Blood / Battle Tendency / Stardust Crusaders / Diamond is Unbreakable / Golden Wind / Stone Ocean

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flamingpudding · 6 months

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Fictober23 Prompt: 28 - "I may not get another chance to say this."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Plays into the Forgotten Twin AU setting. Basically for this: Danny was sent to the Fentons as a mission when he was seven and Damian forgot about it until someone found an old mission report from Danny. Their first meeting didn't go well… But Damian has his reasons wanting Danny to come to Gotham with him that are not all completely selfish. I tried to make this little scene sort of funny with a bit of angst in it.

"So…" Danny floated next to a giant Cujo while 'sitting' cross legged in the air doing his best to suppress the growing grin on his face. "Are you convinced yet?"

He heard an inaudible grumble and laughed doing a little air flip before 'laying' in the air and resting his head in his hands. "I didn't catch that Dami, can you repeat that?"

"Get him off me!"

"Who? Cujo?" The dog licked Danny across his entire head before laying down on and making himself comfortable on his twin brother who grunted and Danny chuckled. "Didn't you say handling a ghost animal won't be any different than handling an actual animals?"

His twin grunted once more but did not say anything else. Danny grinned as he looked away from Damian and Cujo towards the rest his twin hand brought with him to Amity, he hadn't bothered learning their names when Damian had introduced them the first, second, third and fourth time. All in an attempt to convince him, he was surprised that his biological father didn't appear before him as often as Damian did after he told them no.

Red helmet guy, Danny believed his civilian name was something with J, was currently getting chased around the Main Street by Johnny on his motorcycle and Shadow trying to trip the poor guy up. He had heard the guy curse and complain very loudly that he was not happy about his bullets not working.

Another guy in blue who's hero name was something with Wing but his nickname was Dick, a fun fact that funnily enough made his name the easiest to remember, was currently doing a bunch of flips dodging Skulker. He wasn't entirely sure but with the way Skulker was glaring he was pretty sure that the other ghost was now hunting the guy out of annoyance for real instead of just as a favor to Danny.

The third guy Damian had brought with him to Amity, who's hero name was also that of a dinner, was locked in a weird tech battle with Technus. Danny was pretty sure he had heard that guy yell something about upgrading Wayne Tech to the point that Technus would never be able to take control of it. Good luck with that, Danny thought, so far his parents' and with his own ectoplasm infused tech were the only ones that could resist that ghost's control.

"Danyal, this is ridiculous!" Looking toward Cujo again, Danny found that Damian had managed to dig his way out from under him.

"Well you're the one that bet that you could handle some 'silly' ghosts, to convince me to go to Gotham with you. That there wouldn't be a problem if I left Amity Park behind." Danny moved to float before his brother spread his arms out. "Do you see now that I can't just leave? That I have a responsibility here? That I have a perfectly good life here? You didn't care for years that I lived here and now suddenly out of the blue you keep pestering me to come with you to Gotham."

Danny heard something muffled but he hadn't been able to make out what exactly his twin had said. Instead of asking he slowly floated down until his feet touched the ground and then proceeded to sit with his knees drawn in so that his head could rest on them on the ground. His head was slightly tilted as he watched his twin blankly, the same way grandfather had him do when he had been way younger.

Danny knew this was a habit left over from the League, something Jazz wouldn't have been able to help him get rid off without Damian around.

Damian was obviously struggling, trying to push that giant ghost dog off him so he could have a proper talk with his twin, muttering how a 'ghost' dog could be this heavy or solid. Yet even if Damian was late, there were things he needed to explain. Things he needed Danny to know, things he had only learned after he had started living with father, after he had left the League for good. Even if he didn't deserve his twin's forgiveness, he finally could be the brother his twin deserved. Besides he had made a promise to his twin's sister on his second visit, when Jasmine had been the one to sit him down and talk when Danyal refused. She tried to figure out why Damian had appeared so obsessed about taking Danny with him to Gotham and in the end she had made him promise something for Danyals health.

"I may not get another chance to say this. With you pinned under Cujo and your siblings distracted by my rogues this might be my only chance for now. I was convinced I hated you yet was loyal to a default until Jazz thought me I actually didn't hate you but cared in a messed up way." Danny started watching how his twin stilled. "It took Jazz exactly one year to mostly undo the mindset the league trained into me, she shouldn't have to but she wanted to for her new little brother and took all the steps needed to ensure my mental well being when she was nine and I seven. After that year I was sorta lost. A limbo between wanting a normal life and the duty that had been trained into me towards you. I didn't know what to do and then Tucker picked up the slack, showing me what 'normal' was. Well after I sort of went feral on Dash during my first day in grade school."

Damian looked up at his twin who wasn't even looking at him but sported a far away look. Seeing but unseeing at the same time as he remembered a childhood he knew nothing about. "I kept sending reports, not out of duty but hoping to protect the live Jazz had offered me. When they stopped responding, I also stopped reporting and grew wary."

Laughing humorlessly Danny returned his gaze back on Damian. "At first I believed grandfather gave up on me. That he would send you to kill me. After all, I was just a disposable spare. But no one ever came."

"Me appearing after years must have been shocking." Damian admitted, by now he had given up trying to get that giant dog to move off him, less he embarrassed himself like his elder brothers were currently doing. "That was why you attacked without waiting to hear me out once we were in a secluded area during our first meeting."

"Can't blame me. I thought you were still with the League and brainwashed into the perfect hire grandfather wanted." Damian huffed at that causing Danny to chuckle lightheartedly.

"Valid reasoning." His twin agreed. The half ghost signaled to Cujo, the dog only tilting his head before licking his tongue over the entirety of Danny's head once more, not moving an inch off of Damian. "I would most likely have done the same if the roles had been reversed."

"I got a family here now, Damian and you got yours with our bio-Dad and all the siblings you have been trying to introduce to me." Danny voiced after a moment of silence between them. In that moment Cujo finally changed size and moved to cuddle up to his twin, giving Damian a chance to sit up on his own.

"Danyal."

"No Damian. I will not go with you to Gotham. You tried to show me that others could take care of Amity. But look at those you took with you? They don't even have the equipment needed to handle ghosts." Danny was looking over his shoulder watching Damian's brothers. "Amity Park is my responsibility, the same way Gotham is Batmans."

"It is a responsibility you shouldn't shoulder alone. Father has us in Gotham but who do you have?" Damian watched his twin from the corner of his eyes. "It would be better and safer for you to come with us."

"Damian, I can't just-"

"Jasmine has made me aware of the danger to your physical as well as mental health here the longer you stay. She has inquired with us to see if we could help you to start thinking more about your safety than the safety of everyone around you but yourself."

"Of course Jazz would. Look I can handle my parents and the GIW, it's not like-"

"She has stressed the fact that you have been returning injured more often. Injuries not caused by your ghost rogues." Damian cut him off. "You are a lot more like father than I am but there is one fact we both clearly have inherited from him in the same way?"

"Oh, really now?"

"We are both quite stubborn and won't give up easily." Damian smirked as he stood up and dusted off his pants. He took a couple steps forward towards his elder siblings before turning to look back at his twin. "I believe the bet was that if we could prove to you that other hero's could also handle these ghosts that you would reconsider your stance on coming to Gotham with us?"

"Wha-?"

"IT WORKED! He's in my mini computer! I trapped him in my mini computer!"

"HA! Not so fun getting chased by your own bike, is it?"

"Oh come on dude, this isn't that much of a tied situation. I just roped your own weapon around you. No need to be so headless."

Danny blinked slightly unbelieving, Johnny and Shadow where now the once getting chased around, Technus was apparently stuck in one single little computer and Skulker was tied up with one of his own weapons, aktual Skulker not the hulk of his mech suit.

"Danyal. I… We want to make it up to you. For all the years of mistreatment during our childhood as well as forgetting about your existence for nearly half a decade. All I am asking is to give father and me a chance. According to your sister, your foster parents as well as this GIW organization are posing a threat to you. My siblings are just as capable as father and I, so allow us to help your situation… please."

Once again Danny was blinking in disbelief, this time though he was blinking at his twin he hadn't seen in years, he had sort of resented at first but came to sort of love and miss him through Jazz's constant help and deprogrammed in his childhood.

"Wow… you must have swallowed a lot of your pride to say that." Danny couldn't help but mutter. None of his twin's behavior matched what he remembers from his childhood with the League but maybe it was better this way. What did Jazz tell him a couple days ago? To give it a fresh and new start? To at least listen to them?

"Danyal, if you speak one word of what I told you to any of them, I will kill you."

"And there is the Dami, I remember."

Damian clicked his tongue and Danny laughed as he finally stood up with Cujo in his arms to stand next to his twin.

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psychedelic-ink · 7 months

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𝐒𝐮𝐢 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 6.1k

chapter summary: you and joel take your relationship to the next level.

warnings: themes of grief and loneliness, hurt/comfort, fluff, body painting, joel being a very lousy nude model, oral (male receiving), heavy petting, fingering, shower sex, edging, dirty talking

a/n: aaaaand we're BACK-- the hiatus is officially over and I am so ready to focus on this series. I've missed them so much and I hope you guys all did too 💗 also special thanks to @undercoverpena for cheering me on while I was writing this, love you to the moon and back bby xx

Chapter Eleven || Chapter Thirteen

Loneliness had never been a stranger to you. You had your own brand of it, like a homemade fig preserve. Being so close with it, you’ve added something from yourself, and in return, it has branded your personality in such a way that it has become hard to think there was anything but.

For the longest time that special brand of loneliness had been your closest friend. During adulthood, you noticed how tired you were of asking for people to be emotionally aware of your needs, your wants. You were tired of spelling it out for them. Your parents weren’t like you, neither was Auggie. No one around you was emotional like you were, so you learned to keep it locked tight in your heart. You cried at night. You smiled during the day. You felt off and weird when family members hugged you and wept on your shoulder, you dissociated. You’ve noticed this, especially at your grandfather’s funeral. He was gone and you hadn’t shed a tear among the dark black fabrics.

Auggie knew you did this, but alas, it didn’t really matter.

So when you found a family emotionally rich despite not having much, it came as a mild shock to you. Sarah didn’t have these issues. She didn’t care if she was emotional or not, or if what she said came off as needy. The only emotional constipation you noticed was between brothers, but even that didn’t stop them from addressing what they felt during an argument.

You were no stranger to emotional outbursts. Reading a book and eyes welling before you could finish a sentence.

Now, you feel less lonely thanks to Joel, Tommy, and Sarah, each filling a different gap in your withered soul. But even that doesn’t stop the old habit of sewing your mouth shut.

You wake with a heavy weight on your chest. It’s still dark, the sky a dark shade of royal blue. It’s actually a beautiful night. However, your eyes are blind to it. Your skin is damp with sweat. If you saw a nightmare, you don’t remember what it was. You remember going to bed uncomfortable, Tommy’s sad eyes branded into your lids like tattoos you both want to and don’t want to get rid of.

You gradually rise from the bed, the thin summer quilt sliding off your now cold body. You shudder. It had been a long time since you last felt this way. Empty and lonely. It always feels like you have to suffer through these emotions on your own, your need to smile through it more prominent than anything else.

You smack your lips together, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You need water. Ice cold water.

Going down the stairs you don’t think how dark it is, or how some particular shadows remind you of your childhood when you would wake up thanks to the jarring sound of mosquitos, looking for comfort downstairs where your grandparents were usually up. Fuck, your chest is even heavier now. The muscle in your chest more like a cannonball than heart. You’re hyper-aware of the way your chest rises and falls with every breath and quickly, you make your way to the kitchen.

The light of the fridge momentarily blinds you but despite your burning irises you manage to wrap your fingers around the familiar handle of the old jug. You pour yourself a big glass and take small swallows.

A soft wind caresses the outer skeleton of the house. The shadows of leaves dance over the walls, again, a familiar sight that drags you back and makes you sick simultaneously.

“You a’right there, sweetheart?”

You jump at the sound of a voice deepened with sleep. Tommy is staring at you from the entrance, brows furrowed, the crease between them so much like his brother. Taking another small sip of water, you swallow and place the cold glass on the counter.

“I’m fine,” you grit out, your voice leveled. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

Before you know it, Tommy’s warm hands are on your face, cradling your cheeks. His thumbs move over your cheekbones, pressing and applying pressure over the bone. Your heart skips a beat. It takes you everything not to lean into his touch, to seek out that comfort only he could give. But you think of Joel, you think of him, and you stop yourself. If Tommy knew about you and Joel, if you were completely honest with him—an open book, you would’ve taken that comfort to yourself, not a worry in your heart but he doesn’t know and that alone makes your stomach clench with guilt.

“You don’t look fine,” his hands slide down to your shoulders. “Was it a nightmare?”

You blink heavily, your eyes locked on one another. Two broken people in a dark kitchen. It pains you that a nightmare is Tommy’s first guess. You wonder how many times he’d woken up to the faux scent of gunpowder and screams only to be comforted by the darkness of the ceiling.

“Something like that. I. . sometimes forget that they’re gone,” your eyes drop to his chest. “And then I remember that no matter what, in the end, I’ll be lonely.”

“Lonely?” he spits out the word, shocked, hurt and baffled. “What are you talkin’ about? You have Joel—You have me.”

You know you do. You really do. But after years of going through it all alone, to see your friends have their own support systems and people to protect them, care for them, it’s hard to believe you’ve found your people. It’s hard to believe that years of solitude where you had to take care of yourself was over. Old habits die hard. Your heart shatters piece by piece. Your heart nothing but a heavy weight in your chest. You want to collapse, to scream, shout and cry. Salty tears sting the corner of your eyes. Suddenly you’re drowning in your past like it’s still your present, the thickness of it goes all the way up to your neck and you can’t breathe—

“Hey—hey,” Tommy cups your cheeks, thumbs running down where tears would be but your skin is dry. “Come back to me, it’s a’right. I’ll always be with you, you know? Even if you move far away, I’ll always be a thorn in your ass.”

You crack a smile and manage to nod, placing a hand over his own. You think a tear finally falls, maybe even two. You hate feeling like this. Hate it. Tommy doesn’t look convinced by your expression.

“Do. . .do you want me to call Joel?”

His words freeze you to the bone. Of course, he would ask that—Tommy Miller, always thoughtful, always putting others first. They both do. You even think to some extent Sarah does the same thing. All of them throwing themselves in front of a moving train in different ways.

You don’t know if he’s noticed something. Or if he just thinks that Joel’s presence would be more soothing, since he’s used to relying on his older brother.

Either way, you want him to know that he’s enough.

And he’ll always be enough.

You shake your head, “No,” he furrows his brows when you part your arms. “But I wouldn’t say no to a hug.”

Strong arms sneak under your armpits and broad palms press against your back. Tommy pulls you incredibly close. Holds you indescribably tight. His scent fills your lungs. A bit of sweat mixed with a day-old deodorant. He smells nice. He always had. His skin is warm against your cheek and you smile widely this time but he doesn’t see.

“Thank you, Tommy,” you whisper into the darkness. “I would be lost without you.”

“Are you sure you’re a’right?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“Hundred percent sure?”

“Yes, sir,” you declare, your gaze fixed on Joel as you peer from the side of the canvas for a better look. “Now stand still.”

Joel grumbles something inaudible and straightens his neck, attempting to keep his limbs as still as possible. Your eyes rove across his broad shoulders, the expanse of his chest, you take in the shadows that appear between every sinewy muscle and think about how to convey it into your painting. You still haven’t dared to look further down. Looking down means that you’ll definitely be distracted.

You sketch a couple of lines that vaguely resemble his shape. You’ve missed painting nudes and when you mentioned it to Joel, he was eager to accept without actually realizing he had to stay still for a generous amount of time.

“You should’ve called,” he grumbles. “I would’ve come straight over.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But it was late, and Tommy was there.”

He doesn’t say anything but you can sense his displease.

“He’s my friend, Joel,” you answer, observing the thick contour of his neck. “And your brother.”

“I know that. I just don’t like the idea of not being there for you.”

“Tell him then,” you say a bit harshly. He doesn’t seem affected by your shift in tone. Another line joins the others. “If it was anything serious I would’ve called, hell, I would’ve come to you but it wasn’t that serious. I was just in a. . . mood.”

“Tommy sure don’t think so.”

You don’t say anything and focus on drawing the rest of his torso, he clicks his tongue in frustration, “I hate when you do this, you know.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Do what?”

“Downgrade your problems. It’s okay if you’re still grievin’. It’s okay if there are some things you’re still workin’ out. I just don’t want you to think you’re alone, I can be your rock, sweetheart. I’d be happy to.”

“You are my rock, Joel—and keep still.” He huffs and straightens again, your lips twitching into a smile. “I’ll try to open up more. Promise. I do feel really lucky I have you. And Sarah—and Tommy. Some nights I just wake up feeling bad. Yesterday was just a bit more intense.” Joel grunts in approval and you add. “Also hasn’t Tommy heard of the phrase ‘snitches get stitches’?”

“He wasn’t snitchin’,” he pouts, you want to take his bottom lip between your fingers and kiss him. “I actually asked how he was doin’ but he quickly brushed it off and told me about you instead.”

“Of course, he did.”

He nods but still seems wound up like a toy. His head drops a bit, the click of your tongue reminding him to keep still.

Your eyes trace the contours of Joel’s body. He’s an excellent specimen, everything about him so human, so raw. Every freckle, every crinkle you want to eternalize onto your canvas. He’s not looking at you anymore. Eyes glued to the legs of the easel. You still haven’t fully taken in the sight of him. Sometimes you’re truly afraid of how strongly you feel for him, how much you’d be willing to lay down just to be with him.

Honestly, a pocket of time would be ideal. That way you could spend eternity in this peaceful moment, living in bliss.

You place the pencil down and walk up to him. His gaze is drawn to your once more, “Sorry, sweet tea, did I move again?”

“Maybe a bit,” you lie, standing an inch away from his naked body. You press your thumbs against his cheekbones then slide them down, feeling the roughness of hair tickling your skin. His eyes flutter shut momentarily, before opening again.

You don’t say a word. Time is still around you and you believe if you try hard enough this can be your forever. You trace the outer lines of his lips, then trace the seam. His lips part, a bit of tongue showing in between—you touch that too, shallowly dipping one finger before moving on to his neck, “To draw is to feel,” you muster, the ball of your thumb grazing firmly over his Adam’s apple. “Will you let me feel you?”

“‘Course,” he chokes out. “Whatever you need.”

His words make your chest swell with affection. Joel’s words make you feel brave enough to allow your gaze to venture down. You press the flat of your palms over the swell of his stomach, something trembles within—life, you think, he’s so full of it. Your one hand dares to go lower, playing with the dark curls that lead to his soft cock.

However, he doesn’t remain soft for long, it twitches and grows, the head gaining a reddish hue.

Joel tilts his head, gradually leaning in to claim your lips with his own. He stops when your fingers bite into his bare hips, lodging into that delicate spot between bone and muscle, he swallows thickly, cock raising with attention.

“Stay still,” you whisper. “And maybe I’ll reward you.”

“Oh, we’re playing that game now?” he says with a crooked smile that makes your stomach twist delightfully. You only smile as your hand slides lower and lower, until you cup his semi-hard cock. His breath hitches.

I love you like this, you want to say but remain silent. You stroke him slowly until he’s fully hard, the warm muscle throbbing in your palm, you press your lips against his neck, sucking on his skin until his hips jerk.

“I’m not playing any games,” you mouth into his skin. “If you let me paint you, I’ll let you fuck my mouth. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

Joel thrusts into your hand once more, groaning as you lick the vein that throbs under his skin, “I won’t lie, sweetheart, that might be hard if you keep your hand where it is.” He exhales a shaky breath, the warmth of it fanning your skin. “But sounds fair enough, I’ll try.”

You press a quick kiss to the small patch within his beard and pull away before he can follow the heat of your lips. He’s as still as a statue when you get behind the canvas, but instead of resuming sketching the rough outline of his body, you grab two tubes of paint and a brush; though you have your doubts you’ll be using the tool, you’d much prefer to feel the heat of his skin softening the paint between your fingers.

When you come back to him, confusion crosses his face.

“I thought you were gonna be paintin’?”

Your lips twitch into a sinister smile, “I am.”

As cliche as it might sound, Joel has always reminded you of a deep, rich shade of red—the color of blood—but he also reminds you of an earthy purple, the type of shade that makes you want to bury your fingers in it as if you might actually feel the earth itself.

You shake two tubes of paint in front of his eyes. He’s still confused, yet remains still. You pop the red paint open first, squeezing a generous amount over his shoulder. You watch it trickle down, drops of crimson staining his torso, the color so deep that it looks too real. Your heart jumping, you quickly smear it down his chest and all the way to his stomach. Just like you predicted, the brush is forgotten, slipping from your fingers and onto the carpeted floor. Joel shudders, his breath caught in his throat, you see him clench his jaw.

“Darlin’. . .” he rasps, voice full of gravel, and your hand stops where it follows the V of his lower abdomen.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” he answers quickly, breathily. “Don’t ever stop touching me. Don’t ever stop looking at me like that—like I’m the most valuable thing you have. Like I’m worth a damn.”

“You are.”

Slowly, your fingertip traces an invisible path upward, leaving a trail of red paint in its wake. Joel shudders and gulps loudly. You draw meaningless shapes, circle where his tattoo is, and draw shapes of ancient alphabets you vaguely remember from when you read a book about the Late Bronze Age. Joel shudders, twitches, and tenses under your touch but never actually moves, keeping his stance.

After the red pigment is nothing more but a fading shade of pink, you pour some purple paint into your palm and apply it directly. You press your hand directly above his heart, leaving your handprint over it before moving to his back, “Fuck,” he groans.

Looking down, you notice him clenching his buttocks and slightly swaying forward, you smile, his cock must be dripping. You can’t wait to take him in your mouth, for him to use you however he pleases. You need him to be desperate when he takes you, sliding his length down your throat as he berates you for taunting him with sinful touches in the guise of making art.

You press your hands together and smear the remnants of red with the purple, the fresh paint overwhelming the other. When both hands are fully coated, your cup both his ass cheeks, sliding your hands up, you kiss the taut skin between his shoulder blades. You leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses all the way to his neck and lick the sensitive spot behind his earlobe.

“I’d wrap my hand around your cock but I’m afraid the paint isn’t edible so you wouldn’t be able to fuck my mouth,” you tease. “Tell me what you want to do to me, Joel?”

He groans, “Keep this up and you’ll find out, sweetheart. I’m not a patient man, you should know.”

“But isn’t the wait fun?” you challenge, your hands sliding up to his front, right above his pelvis. “The taste of sex on your tongue, the way your cock throbs with the thought of my warm cunt tight around it? Don’t you feel that tingle. . .” you gradually lower yourself, dragging your tongue down his spine, a choked out sound rips from his throat, “going down your spine, reminding you of how good it’s finally going to feel when you push down my throat, cutting my airflow and taking me however you want?”

Joel breathes heavily, his stomach clenching with every whispered word, “Darlin’, please.”

“Turn around.”

You look up as he does, you gently take his hand and place it on your cheek, your heart dissolving into something thick and sweet like honey when his thumb strokes your skin. His gaze grows soft, the arousal in them dimming, splitting away like waves to show the emotion.

“Your knees are gonna hurt,” he says, voice dropping.

He’s right, they are going to hurt. “I don’t care.”

You lower both hands to your lap, obediently parting your lips, sticking your tongue out. Joel wraps a hand around his cock and jerks himself until he’s fully hard, he holds you by the hair and drags you closer.

“You want me to fuck that pretty mouth?”

“Please,” you repeat his own plea from earlier.

The heft of his cock on your tongue almost feels like a blessing from above. Your eyes flutter shut. Joel slides himself torturously slow, inch by inch, as he fills your mouth, your lips stretching wide to accommodate his width. He moves down your throat, awakening your gag reflex, you hold it down, choking around his cock.

“Fuuuuuck, that feels good,” he groans, throwing his head back. With shallow thrusts, he works your throat open. Your one hand slides between your thighs as the other braces against Joel’s thick thigh. Right now, you’re relieved you’re wearing your favorite flannel pajama shorts instead of something uncomfortable like jeans. “That’s it, touch yourself, sweetheart. I want you to come while I’m fuckin’ your throat.” You whine filthily at his words, pressing your fingers between your clothed folds, you stroke your aching clit. Joel doesn’t stop running his mouth. “You must be soaked down there, poor thing.”

Tears sting the corner of your eyes and you manage to slip your fingers down your shorts. His thrusts become rougher, sliding all the way out before fucking himself even deeper into your mouth, down your throat. You swallow helplessly around him and the groan that slips from between his lips forces the clench of your cunt, you breathe heavily through your nose and draw vicious circles around your clit.

“Look at you—you like me fuckin’ your mouth, honey?” You nod, his lips curling in the most devastating way. “You gonna come while rubbing that pretty pussy of yours?”

You nod again, this time accompanied by a moan. The reverberations of the sound trembles against his sensitive cock and he rocks into your mouth harder—this time tears do slip past your fluttering lashes. You can’t breathe, your vision is blurry, yet this is everything you’ve ever wanted. Your heart feels so full, so content. He fucks every thought out of your head, overwhelming your senses.

“Shit, shit, shit—Don’t look like that, sweetheart, don’t cry, if you do I—I’ll—” Spit trickles down the corner of your lips, everything a wet, sopping mess. With every thrust, he manages to go down your throat, his mouth constantly muttering words you can barely hear. More tears flow freely down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva and precome going down your neck. His hips move in a constant stammering motion, balls heavy on your chin as he snaps shallowly into your throat without pulling back.

You look up to him. Your eyes shining and glimmering, Joel meets your gaze, his eyes going wide, hips stilling—

He spills down your throat, hard.

You swallow, swallow, and swallow, gulping everything that he gives. But it’s still not enough, there’s too much, some of it spilling from the sides from where his cock stretches your lips. Your body jerks, your fingers move slowly around your clit and you press harder, your feel the warm slick dripping down your fingers, making a mess of the rug underneath.

“Sorry, sorry—” Joel mutters over and over again almost like a chant. His voice hoarse as his chest raises with quick shallow breaths. He then lets out a deep exhale, his cock throbbing in your mouth as he pulls out. “I wanted to last longer.”

You kiss the tip of his spent cock, “Come here,” you mumble and he quickly drops down, you take his hand, pulling it between your legs. His eyes snap to yours, pupils eating away the color as he presses two fingers into your soaked cunt. Your eyes roll and your hips immediately grind down. “I came too. I came from you fucking my mouth, Joel. That’s how good it felt. You don’t need to apologize.”

“Fuck, you’re really makin’ it hard to stay soft darlin’.” You smile as you cup his flaccid cock, feeling the weight of it in your palm, he hisses. “You’re gonna pay for teasin’ me, neighbor. ‘Should take you on my fuckin’ knee as punishment.”

A fresh gush of wetness spreads around his fingers, “I think I would like that,” you say, kissing his neck. “But now I think I should actually finish sketching you for my painting.”

“I don’t think I have much strength left in my legs,” he says with a chuckle.

“Who said anything about standing?” you stand up, taking him with you. “I’m going to paint something else and for that, I want you on the bed.”

You hadn't realized how much paint you managed to cover yourself in when you were pouring purple and red down Joel's shoulders.

He actually managed quite well when you asked him to lay on the bed instead of standing, and you’re fairly certain he dozed off for a moment or two. You didn’t mind. You loved how the painting had ended up, a sensual silhouette of a working man sleeping with sun cascading down his skin.

“Surprise surprise, pourin’ paint on me got you dirty too,” Joel coos playfully, following you into the dimly lit bathroom. He stuffs your bedsheets into the washing machine, your eyes catch the smear of red and purple paint. “Want us to take a shower beautiful? We still have time until Sarah comes back from school.”

“Someone’s cheerful now that they’ve taken their nap.” Joel holds you by the waist and pulls you close, unlike him, you’re still fully clothed—dirty, but clothed. His cock presses against the swell of your stomach.

“I’m mighty tired of bein’ the only one bearin’ my naked ass,” he tugs off your shirt, the motion so quick that your protest dissolves on your tongue before it can materialize. “Also you owe me a nice back scrub with all those fancy soaps you have.”

“I thought I paid my depth when you came down my throat.”

“I don’t recall sayin’ exactly how much you owed me for this.”

Your lips split into a grin. Without moving away, you bend over and slip out of your shorts, throwing them towards the washing machine. The flickering lustful specks in his eyes make your heart jump, they look like gold. Despite coming down your throat about forty minutes ago, he still wants you. He’s not tired of spending time with you, talking to you, humoring you in your endeavors— he’s not even mildly annoyed, which is something you thought everyone would feel eventually if they spent enough time with you. It was only a matter of when.

You suddenly slap your palms softly against his cheeks, cradling his scruffy cheeks. His eyes rip away from your naked body to meet your gaze. You take in a slow breath. And out. Your heart rams painfully within your chest. Joel’s eyes widen slightly as he takes in your expression, observing you slowly as if he’s tasting what you’re feeling like aged wine. His fingers slither around your wrist and sliver down your forearms.

“Darlin’?”

“I love you, Joel.”

His lips part, not with surprise, but with relief. You’re smiling giddily now, not a feeling of worry in your bones, just happiness, eagerness. You don’t care if it’s too early. Too late. It’s what you feel. And all you feel is love love love.

“I love you too, Tea.”

Joel brings your palm to his lips and kisses the curve of it slowly, he moves up to the middle, his mustache tickling you when he lays another kiss, “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

You close the distance, slanting your lips together, you drink him. His lips move to the beat of the moment, tickling down tenderly and smoothly like molasses. Joel’s tongue traces the seam of your lips and you open up for him. He tastes you quickly before pulling back. He exhales deeply, his breath fanning your swollen lips.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

You grin, raising an eyebrow, “So you can get me dirty again?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he huffs.

Joel leads you to the tub, acting as if you’re his guest and not the other way around. He turns on the shower, allows the water to run down his fingers until the temperature is just right, and then carefully helps you step in. You moan happily at the way warm water moves down your skin, softening your body and chipping away at the paint. Joel stands right behind you. You want to turn around, clean him of the colorful mess, but he doesn’t budge. His hands touch your shoulders, then skims down.

“You first,” he murmurs, fingers washing away the paint. You lean back. His hands follow a trail to your front, kneading your breasts.

“I don’t have any paint there,” you hum.

“My bad, these eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

He gives them another squeeze before going lower and lower. . . until he’s pushing his hand between your pressed tighs. You laugh, “I definitely don’t have any paint there.”

His teeth suddenly sink into your shoulder. The blossoming pain makes you gasp and your body reacts by bending over, rolling your hips towards him. With a soft growl, Joel grips your hips and pushes you up against the glass panel. You moan with your breasts pressing firmly against the glass, the constant shower of water making you slip.

Joel’s lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck you with my fingers,” he rasps. “Want you to come all around them, sweetheart.”

Your body flushes from the inside out, “What if I can’t?”

“You don’t have a choice,” he pushes forward, notching his cock between your folds, you whimper. “If you want me to fuck you with this cock, you better show me how desperate you are for it by makin’ a mess, honey.”

When you don’t answer he grips your neck and forces your head back, he kisses your forehead, “Are you gonna be good for me?”

Your stomach bottoms out, “Y—Yes, I’ll be good.”

He kisses your forehead once more before releasing you. You fall forward with a whimper, bracing your hands against the slippery panels. Joel slides two fingers inside of you with embarrassing ease, “You like it when I’m rough,” he states, thrusting the digits in and out. You nod. “I love you,” he then says, catching you but surprise. You clench around his fingers and he chuckles darkly. “God, you’re gonna make me go insane—I love you—”

You clench again, a loud moan dropping from your lips. The sounds you make are drowned by the water, yet he can hear you crystal clear. Your body reacts viscerally to his words, a flame that won’t ever go out burning wild in your gut—between your legs. He whispered the words into your skin, into your mouth, against your tongue. You push against his fingers, urging him to go deeper. He does. He holds you by the neck while fucking you with thick fingers, you cry out his name, whimpering those three little words that make him go inside just as much as it does to you.

“Come for me,” he grunts. “Come for me so I can fuck you for real.”

“J–Joel, fuck—”

Your back arches, your orgasm rips from you, he takes it. It’s violent, earth shattering.

Your jaw drops as he squeezes your throat lightly, the pressure adding to the intensity. You can vaguely hear him muttering ‘That’s it’ over and over, but you can barely hear the rasp of his voice.

Joel kisses your cheek, drags his lips down your neck, “How’re you feelin’?”

“Good. . . great actually.”

Pulling out his fingers, he pushes them between your lips, you lap at them hungrily. While you’re busy devouring your own taste, Joel buries himself deep in your cunt. You whimper around his fingers, brows furrowing with pleasure. He pulls the digits out and grips your chin. His chest heaves as he pulls almost all the way out before snapping forward again, burying himself into the tight warmth of your pussy.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles, rocking back and forth. With every thrust, your lungs convulse. You desperately grip his forearm, but your fingers slip thanks to the water droplets that surround his skin, him letting out a sudden chuckle before pulling you towards his mouth. “Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t think I’m gonna last long now either. You make me feel like a teenager again.”

Throwing your arm back, you tug the damp locks and force your lips together. You lick hungrily into his mouth. Joel moans loudly and you swallow every little sound he makes, your cunt fluttering and clamping around his length. He pounds into you sloppily, no coordination, no calculation—just need.

To be wanted. To be devoured. What a wonderful feeling it was.

Joel pulls out with a grunt, you hear the slick sounds of his fist as he jerks himself over the curve of your spine. You shudder when you feel it. Warm spend trickling down your skin, mixing with the water. He spreads your ass cheeks and pushes them together with his cock between them, he grinds once—twice, before heaving and dropping his head between your shoulder blades.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but you hear no regret behind the apology. It makes you glad.

“Don’t be,” you turn and pick up the shower head, holding it right over his shoulders, you wipe the remaining paint away. Your stomach growls in protest, your lips twitch into a crooked smile. “God, all that worked an appetite. I’m starving.”

“Want me to cook you somethin’?”

Spraying the water over his other shoulder, you meet his gaze. He’s so sweet like this. His hair wet, curling at the ends. His body finally relaxed. You can’t help yourself and quickly press your lips into the corner of his jaw.

“I have a watermelon in the fridge, you can cut that up for me.”

“‘Course, darlin’. Anythin’ for you.”

Crickets chirp loudly. The wind pleasant, yet a bit too warm for your liking. You fan yourself with a hand as you lean back into the chair. Despite just taking a shower, you’re nearly dry. Summer is definitely not a good season for you.

“Should I be offended you look so miserable right now?” Joel asks, sitting next to you. He bites into one of the watermelon slices and when a drop of sweet nectar escapes, he makes quick work of licking himself clean. You swallow, your insides pulsing.

“No,” you sigh. “I just don’t like the heat very much.”

“Well. . that might be a problem considering summer is basically here.”

You groan and throw your head back, “Don’t remind me.”

“Here,” he says, extending you a slice. “Eat.”

You take the slice without objection, biting into the fleshy fruit. The cold juice of the watermelon feels good as it goes down your throat. You look over to the lawn, thanks to the heat most things have dried out.

“I helped him a lot you know,” Joel says, his voice soft, as if afraid to spook you. “With the garden that is. He talked a lot about you.”

“Did he now?” you muse, you chew the watermelon thoughtfully. Your eyes are glued to one of the butterflies in search of a flower. “I miss him.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. I know. I wish I could ease your paint, but truthfully I have no idea how to do that.”

“You do enough,” smiling, you turn to him and find that he’s already looking at you. “The silver lining is that I met you.”

He parts his lips, eyes glossed over with emotion but before he can, both of you hear small steps approaching at the same time.

“Oh, watermelon,” Sarah chirps, throwing her backpack to the floor. “Don’t mind if I do.”

She takes a slice and sits down, eyes flitting between you and Joel. You try not to look at Joel then, your heart beating a bit too loudly for your liking. Sarah raises an eyebrow and locks her eyes with Joel, their expressions are similar when they’re about to wreak havoc.

“What?” Joel snaps, angrily sinking his teeth into his watermelon, finishing it off. Both you and Sarah laugh, your heart feeling a bit lighter now.

“Oh, nothin’,” Sarah rolls her tongue, mimicking her dad. “What have you two been up to?”

“Your dad was helping me with the kitchen sink,” you answer quickly. “It’s been leaking all morning.”

“If my dad is good at anything, it’s fixing stuff.”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Joel grumbles.

“How was school?” you ask.

Sarah’s shoulders fall a bit, but she quickly shakes it off and smiles, “It was good, nothing interesting happened.”

You raise an eyebrow but don’t pry. Joel doesn’t seem to notice Sarah’s mood change. “We should better head off,” he says.

“But I’m still eating,” Sarah whines. “Can’t we stay a bit longer?”

“We don’t wanna overstay our welcome.”

You almost laugh at such an absurd thing. Him, overstaying his welcome? Never. But you also understand why he does it. Sarah is smart and by the looks she was giving you and him, she’s probably already suspicious.

“You guys should take half of it,” you say, standing up. “I’m only one person anyway. If I eat this much watermelon I’ll end up growing one inside of me.”

Both of them look at you deadpanned, you laugh, “You both have no humor!”

Sarah turns to Joel, “Dad, I think you might wanna check if her water is laced with something.”

“I think you’re right, baby girl,” Joel nods seriously. “There’s no other reason she would find that funny.”

“If you guys keep that up I’m not giving you squat.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am,” they say at the same time.

You shake your head, snorting at the father and daughter duo. Both of them were ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

However, you can’t seem to stop smiling as you head inside to get them a container to put the slices into.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #joel miller smut #stay in bed series #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #scheduled

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