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porcelainseashore · 2 months

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Into the Ether (1)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Authors' Note: Super excited for this crossover series! I’ll try to keep a regular update schedule on Wednesdays. I might take some liberties with VtM lore and mechanics to fit the story, but hope to stay as true as I can to the source material. Finally, I imagined RE2R Leon (my favorite!) in this role 🫶

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: RC By Night

You first saw him in summer, when the days were long and the nights were short, and the streets came to life again. There was the heady smell of pollen in the air and the humidity was sweltering. Just a couple of months after you and a bunch of idealistic friends from your theater school days had taken the plunge, and opened an all-night cafe in one of the cheaper, grittier areas of town, east of the river of Raccoon City.

It had been a scrappy little project, one you didn’t expect to receive a cult following and gain in popularity amongst the intellectuals and counterculture crowd. But then again, there was also the City College nearby and the events program you’d lined up each week drew them in. From comedy nights and disco fevers to site-specific and performance art, you knew what people liked and how they wanted to be entertained. A bit of kitsch, a sprinkle of avant-garde and a generous dose of unpretentious social drinking. It pulled him in too.

Him. You didn’t even know his name. The first thing you had noticed were his striking blue eyes that seemed to glow from the shadows of the dimly lit space, peering out at you. Always observing, always watching, never speaking. Sometimes he’d glance over across the opposite end of the room at another pair of companions — a rugged, broad-shouldered man with a dark crew cut bumping shoulders with a younger, spunky redhead in a matching biker jacket. They’d exchange subtle looks of recognition and mild suspicion before returning to whatever they were doing. Though they never uttered a single word to each other.

He came back week after week, ordering the same drink each time, but never touching it. One Manhattan, please. You obliged. A waitress you had sent over to pry on your behalf told you he enjoyed the cocktail, but couldn’t tolerate much alcohol. You saw him lift the drink to his nose, sniffing it as the corners of his mouth turned upwards, silently smiling to himself before he placed it back down on the table again. Strange. You shook your head and prepared a cup of black coffee, taking it over to him as his eyes lit up in surprise with your approach.

“On the house,” you explained, plonking it down on the table. He raised an eyebrow but remained tight-lipped.

Maybe he didn’t like coffee? Or how did he usually take it? “Uh—” you turned back towards the service area, as if to check that the condiments were still in place. “Would you like some creamer or sugar to go with it?”

He raised his hand to indicate it wasn’t necessary and his jaw clenched, before fixing it into an awkward smile. “Thank you.”

Those were the first words he had spoken to you. It rolled off his tongue like a swirl of mist, a sliver of a dream you couldn’t quite remember when waking up. You took another step forward to get a better look at him. He had a baby face, angelic almost, with that typical, boy next door charm your mom would have gushed at, and you imagined he couldn’t be older than his early twenties. Upon closer inspection, he seemed slightly pale, faint dark circles around his eyes that had seen more than his fair share for his age. There was a sense of weariness and jadedness behind them that made him appear older than he was.

Bringing the cup to his lips, he sipped a small mouthful, letting it sit for a moment, before swallowing it down languidly. You admired the curve of his Adam’s apple, bobbing as the liquid poured down his throat, littered with freckles and specks of moles. Something about his very presence mesmerized you, even more so than earlier. It was hard to place a finger on what it was exactly, and why this feeling seemed to grow with every second you were lingering near him.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapping it on the table before offering one to you. Why not? You were a social smoker and took it as a sign to join him. In fact, there was no other place you’d rather be at the moment. You were confused, but did not question it as you took a seat beside him, noticing that he flinched each time he flicked open his lighter to ignite a flame.

His fingertips brushed across your wrist as he lit your cigarette, causing you to shiver in response, while his jaw tensed again, as if trying to rein something in. Licking his lips, he took a puff from his own, exhaling the smoke as it billowed around him and for a second you thought you’d lost him to a wall of fog. Both of you continued smoking in silence, checking in with each other through furtive glances, even though there was nothing to be ashamed about.

At some point, you followed the direction of his gaze and saw that same pair of companions he often regarded from the corner of his eye. They were frowning, giving him dirty looks as he shrugged nonchalantly in return.

“Not much of a talker, are you?” you broke through the thick stillness of the air that surrounded the both of you like a bubble, separated from the rest of the evening revelers.

“You’re observant,” he teased, his eyes crinkling as he stubbed out the leftovers of his cigarette in the ashtray. You followed suit.

“So, what brings you here?” you asked, gesturing to the suit attire sans tie that he was wearing. “Don’t get me wrong, but this place doesn’t exactly seem like the kind you types hang out at.”

“Hm,” he huffed, though your question didn’t phase him. “And what exactly is my type?”

“I’d say you were a yuppie,” you blurted out, your mouth rarely had a filter on these days. “But I can’t be sure, something about you seems…”

“Off?” he offered, smirking, yet his expression carried a hint of somberness.

“Different,” you corrected, but mumbled out a quick apology nonetheless soon after.

“Don’t be,” he grazed your hand again as he adjusted himself in his chair, and you felt like he was doing this on purpose. “At least you’re honest. It’s a rare quality to find these days.” Though the way he said the last sentence sounded loaded with a double meaning.

“These days?” you guffawed. “You’re speaking like an old man.”

He joined in your laughter though that was the end of your conversation for that night. The rest of the evening went by in a blind haze, and you found yourself in a dazed state later on in the wee hours of the morning, still sitting at the same table, but your newfound friend gone without a trace. None of your colleagues had noticed a thing. You didn’t even get his name, but you shook yourself, commanding your limbs to get back to business and clean up after the customers that had left.

The next time you saw him was when you were hosting the karaoke night of the month. Decked out in a shimmery mermaid glitter jumpsuit, hair tied up in pigtails and face caked with extravagant make up, you hopped onto the stage, only to nearly stumble on your flimsy heels when those piercing blue eyes landed on you from the all the way back. Of all the nights he could have dropped in, he chose this one.

You suppressed your embarrassment and warmed up the audience with a couple of well-placed jokes before kicking the event off with those who had registered to participate. It appeared to be a tough crowd as you only had a handful of sign ups, and would need to potentially seek out volunteers when they were done. You hoped the rackety sound system would hold up till then too.

Fortunately, when it came to the crunch — which it did — you always had an ace up your sleeve. “You there,” you called out, pointing towards the back of the room. “Yeah, blue eyes, you.” Crooking your finger, you beckoned him over, waiting in anticipation to see what he would do.

To your surprise, he bowed his head, accepting the challenge, before slowly weaving his way through the crowd, who were cheering him on with your prompting, towards the stage. He flashed you his pearly whites as he climbed up the short stairs, his floppy bangs bouncing with each step. For a moment, you thought you caught something feral in his gaze, but it dissipated when he reached out for the mic from you, his hands sweeping over yours with an electric touch.

You were in awe of him, like almost everyone else in the cafe, when he broke out in a rich tenor voice, effortlessly floating through the notes of the gentle melody, that you felt as though you were being wrapped in a serene, velvet cocoon. Enthusiastic claps and hoots filled the space when he finished. The only two people in the room who were scowling were the same pair of companions he knew from before.

“Will you join me after the show?” he whispered in your ear as he handed you back the mic. Nodding was the only appropriate response.

You were rushed off your feet for the next couple of hours and it was late by the time you called the event to a close, but he was still there, by his usual table, waiting patiently for you.

“So you decided to push me into the spotlight,” he accused with a wry smile.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it,” you shot back. “Here.” You set a cup of black coffee down in front of him. “My treat.”

“You’re too kind.” It sounded flat, like a game that had become routine between the two of you. He took a sip from it, nothing more, nothing less.

That was all you could recall from your conversation. You didn’t get his name until a few nights after.

“Hey, blue eyes,” you acknowledged as he strolled in.

“Leon,” he disclosed sharply. “It’s Leon.”

That was the night of exchanging introductions. You named all the nights you’d spent with him under various labels, so you wouldn’t forget.

Another night, he had whipped out a flip phone and you nearly choked on your drink. “They still make those?” You stared in disbelief.

He turned to face you in amusement.

“Bet you don’t have a—”

You didn’t even need to finish your sentence for him to fish out his pager, dangling it in front of you like a toy.

“Fuck off,” you laughed. “No fucking way.”

He grinned at your outburst and it was one of those times, few and far between, where you experienced a glimpse of that youthful energy he often hid behind a calm, matured facade.

“You’re still living in the 90s dude?” you jested, grabbing the pager as you flipped it over, trying to determine if it was real. It was.

His lips curled up into a playful smirk. “Something like that.”

“Healthcare,” you guessed, squinting at him. “I heard people there still have them. You’re a doctor?”

“I wish.” He coughed out a self-deprecating laugh, before rummaging through his wallet for a sleek white card, sliding over to you. “PI, actually.”

“Private Investigator Leon S. Kennedy,” you read the title out loud, deliberately emphasizing each word.

“Go ahead, shout it from the rooftops,” he joked.

“Don’t tempt me.” You gave what you hoped was a cheeky wink, not flirty, definitely not flirty.

A lopsided smile spread across his face, and you wondered if you were finally beginning to unravel the mystery of this man, one that he seemed to carry around like a burden.

“Well, now you know where to find me.” He winked back, taking a tiny sip of his free coffee.

That was the night of P.I. Kennedy. Soon, these nights blurred into each other. You felt like you were getting a step closer, but yet you weren’t. He always had you at an arm’s length for some reason, even though he seemed to want more. Why did he keep coming back?

He also appeared to care about what you thought of him. At some point forth, he started dressing down, exchanging his usual formal attire for a shirt with no blazer, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A fine gold chain necklace peeked out from underneath his top collar, which was left unbuttoned. “Better like this?” he asked with no context. You had to pause and consider what he meant for a while before you understood.

“If you’d like to fit in.” You shrugged indifferently. “But I don’t think you want to.”

“You know me well,” he murmured fondly. The back of his fingers caressed the side of your neck, just under your jawline, along a pulse point. You closed your eyes and sighed. It felt sensitive and tender.

“And how well do you know me?” you asked.

There was no reply, but somehow you already knew the answer.

Another thing you were vaguely aware of was that you kept missing the tail end of your interactions with him. It was as though after a certain point in the night, you would come to, like waking up from a daydream, and he would have disappeared by then.

Your colleagues asked if you were seeing each other. Were you? You were only chatting, you surmised. Nothing had gone that far yet, at least from what you had gathered. But you liked him more than you would’ve liked to admit.

He walked you home one night, and when you reached your doorstep, you were about to invite him in, but he interrupted you. “There’s something I need to tell you…”

Guilt clouded his eyes, unmistakable and heavy. But as he was about to say more, he held back, as if pulled by an invisible thread. Then, you felt yourself overcome with tiredness, but it was pleasant and comforting. “Can you help me to bed?” Your voice sounded far away.

All at once, you felt yourself being propped up under his arm and your weight shifting under your feet, until your head touched a feather-soft pillow. He draped a blanket over your unmoving body. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never should have—” Even in your state, you could tell it pained him.

“I won’t do it again, unless you let me.”

That was the last you heard from him for a while.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Leon couldn’t get enough of you. Believe him, he tried countless times, but it didn’t work. From the moment he had set foot into that establishment, he had damned himself. He knew it when he spotted you and smelled your sanguine resonance from afar. It was the humor of your blood, and it was stronger and more consistent than he was used to. You were just so full of life, and enjoying it to the point where he was envious. You signified all the hopes and dreams that had been dashed spectacularly to the ground, ever since becoming… what he was now.

He had to have a taste of you. A little drop wouldn’t hurt, would it? He’d been taught ages ago, by Ada, his sire, that he needed people like you to survive. If one ignored their hunger for too long, things would get worse, so much worse, and not just for himself, but for everyone else around him. It was simply the lesser of two evils to feed, and he’d never actually killed anyone by doing so. Then, why did it feel so wrong? He had gotten good at pushing down these thoughts, until they were reduced to an inaudible hum at the back of his mind. Just like many other things, he learnt to compromise. But compromising meant that sometimes, he’d lose a piece of himself. If there was an equivalent of a soul within the monster he had become, then it was fragmented, and he’d never get back the ones that had dissolved into the ether, due to the bad decisions he had made. Like the ones he would soon make with you.

Taste. Taste was something he had acquired since young. In his human life, he always had an eye for detail, an eye for what fit, what worked, and what didn’t. It certainly helped when he became a cold case detective with the police force, filled with unbridled potential, only to have that overturned, when he decided to chase after love instead of missing people and puzzle pieces. For years, he would’ve done anything for her, only for it to amount to wasted time and regret when the inevitable boredom that came with time struck, and he was tossed aside over something exciting and new. Still, he knew a delicious vessel when he saw one. You were just meant to be a special curiosity that he could pass on to the older vampire for a favor or two. At least, that was what he told himself, when you took the initial bait and he beckoned you to stay through unnatural means. That was the first lie.

When he bit into you, he was met with a burst of color, vibrant shades of all kinds of red. The flavor saturated his mouth: sweet roses, his favorite kind, their scent carried on a gentle zephyr; warm light that enveloped him but didn’t hurt; traces of nicotine coursing through your veins; and the familiar iron tang that gave it its kick. Your face, your voice, your very essence haunted him in that taste. He could see you like a will-o'-the-wisp performing on stage in one of your many plays across a lifetime, laughing with your friends in the back of a car speeding down the highway, crying into a pillow when you had your heart broken by your first love… How was this possible? Your memories came flooding through him and you were blissfully unaware of it all. He felt like a spy, listening in to all your secrets and desires, and his blatant invasion of your privacy disgusted him.

This was wrong. He shouldn’t have gotten so close. He should’ve heeded the warning glances the Redfield siblings were throwing his way. So, he tried his best to stay away, but like an addict, he kept crawling back, seeking you out like a dog with its tail between its legs. How could a mere mortal have such an effect on him? Did he taste this way to Ada when she turned him? He laughed sardonically. If only she could see him now, being so torn up over a woman he had just met.

He tried to erase you from his mind, but you were always meant to be something more. You reminded him of all the things he missed when he was living. You were the best he had ever tasted, but he didn’t want to turn you over to her, not yet. After all, he could afford to enjoy you for just one more time. The second lie had spun its thick, dark webs throughout his head. Truth be told, he would never share you with anyone else.

The third lie came when he resolved to tell you what he really was. He couldn’t keep going on like this and deceiving you, but his sire’s words bore down on him. “You don’t get attached to a vessel,” she scoffed. Wait, wasn’t he one too at some point? Her contradictory words replayed in his ears like a broken record. In any case, he wasn’t attached. He was being brave and honest, which was how he liked to think of himself. But when it came to the crunch outside your doorstep, he was a coward, finding himself unable to breach the rules of the Masquerade and gave in to his urges instead. It was then that he realized deep down, he was truly a despicable and hateful low-life.

Thump! He felt his body slam against a solid wall, as he entered a secluded alleyway round the corner from your apartment. A dull ache bloomed across his skin. After the events that had happened that night, he didn’t even bother putting up a fight. He slumped down until the brawny, older male sibling, Chris, lifted him by his collar and pinned him in place. At the same time, the slender redhead, Claire, Chris’ female counterpart, spoke, “Where the hell are you going with this, Leon?”

“Why do you care?” he spat, blood coating his teeth. “The cafe’s in neutral ground, no one’s claimed domain over it yet. I can feed on whoever I like.”

“Listen, you’re Cam scum, but you saved my brother back then, and you used to hang with us,” she hissed, jabbing her finger into his shoulder to emphasize each point. “So, I’m gonna give you a tip, but just this once.”

She brought her mouth to his ear. “There’s interest in the domain… and you’re not the only suitor vying for her attention.”

His eyes widened at the threat.

“Whatever you do, do it fast.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #vampire au #vampire the masquerade #vtm #crossover #porcelainscribbles

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moonstruckme · 2 months

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We have whimsical reader in marauders

We need one with tasm peter

Oorrrr

Can you imagine (or make) a witch/wizard reader with tasm peter!!???

Thanks for requesting love!

tasm!Peter Parker x whimsical!reader ♡ 679 words

Peter comes in through the window, more out of habit than anything else now that he’s not hiding anything from you, but you don’t startle. You’re sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the floor in front of the couch, flipping through what looks like his old physics textbook.

“Baby,” he says, “why was there an apple on the fire escape again?”

“It was still there?” You look up, disappointed to find a whole apple in your boyfriend’s hand. “I thought Ricardo would’ve gotten to it by now. I hope he’s okay.”

Peter scoffs, going into the kitchen to wash the apple and put it away. He scrubs it extra hard just in case the raccoon you’re set on befriending did get his grubby paws on it.

“Ricardo can eat without your help,” he says. “He’s hardy, he’s from Brooklyn.”

“I know,” you sigh, “but apples are his favorite.”

Peter’s eyes narrow, but you’re not looking, your attention on something in the book. “How do you know that?”

“He’ll let me pet him while he’s eating apples.”

He sighs, leaning his forearms on the counter. He’s going to have to find a way to move that raccoon to another neighborhood the next time he goes out. Before it gives you rabies.

“What’re you doing over there?” he asks you.

“Pressing flowers.”

“Yeah?” Peter rounds the counter, moving behind you to sit on the couch. His knees bracket your shoulders. The A/C is blasting to combat the summer heat, and goosebumps prickle down your arms. “What for?”

“I was thinking May could bring them to work,” you say, flattening a dandelion between two pieces of wax paper. The movements are deft and routined, and Peter wonders how many flowers are already enclosed between the pages. There’s a small pile of them sitting next to you, miraculously intact despite the fragile puffs. “She was telling me about some of the kids she works with last week. I thought they might like to have them.” You shrug. “For bookmarks or whatever.”

Peter’s insides go melty soft. “I’m sure they would.” He leans forward, setting his hand on your shoulder and his lips to your head. You only keep working. Sometimes Peter feels like a weird rock or a feather that you’d picked up somewhere, put in your pocket without a second thought. But you do love your rocks and feathers, so it’s not an awful fate. “Where’d you get these, sweetheart?”

“I found them,” you say simply. “Parks, sidewalks, you know. They grow anywhere. Do you think I should save a few in case they want to make wishes instead of keeping them?”

It’s said so seriously Peter can’t help but grin, turning so his cheek smushes into the crown of your head. “That seems like a good idea. Mind if I use one?”

“Of course.” You sound surprised. “Use as many as you want, Peter. I can always get more.”

“Just one is good.”

He slides off of the couch, sitting beside you and picking up a dandelion. He waits until you’re looking over at him before blowing.

You squeeze your eyes shut as the seeds rush towards you. Peter’s close enough that they get stuck in your eyelashes and eyebrows, a couple in your hair. His breath weakens as he starts laughing, the last few seeds coming off the flower by way of little puffs of air.

“You don’t have to blow it at someone,” you say, lips stretching into a pretty smile. You blink cautiously, opening your eyes once no dandelion fluff falls in.

He lowers the stem. “I just wanted to make sure my wish went in the right direction.”

Your head tilts. “What’d you wish for?”

Peter combs a bit of white fluff out of your hair, grinning. “C’mon, baby,” he tsks, shifting his fingers to your jaw. You’re pliant to the touch, angling your head at the slightest cue from him. You keep your eyes open, curious, but your lips are soft against his. “You know that’s not how it works. I’ve still gotta make sure it comes true.”

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apomaro-mellow · 4 months

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idk how detailed of a prompt ur looking for but: Eddie thinks Steve's chest hair is hot for the bingo

im thinking of them going to the lake or something and Steve takes off his shirt and Eds nearly has a heatt attack bc yeah he'd seen Steve's chest before but he kinda repressed it? along with the whole upside down deal so he's like choking at the sight and at the newly found memory lol

but anything you come up with will be amazing im sure <3

every time i get a prompt i rub my lil raccoon hands together ehehehe

They weren't going to Lover's Lake. That had been the one thing everyone agreed on at first. Too much to unpack but it went without saying that no one wanted to relive the memory of what had happened in those waters. They all packed up and went about three hours away to a totally different town with a totally different lake.

"Summer time, a bunch of teens, a town where no one knows us", Eddie commented as they parked. "Did we just drive into another horror movie set up?"

"I think we can handle some random killer in the woods", Jonathan said.

Eddie couldn't argue. He knew for a fact that Steve had packed away his oh so trusty nail bat and that Nancy was strapped too. At a moment's notice, Robin looked ready to turn a beer into a makeshift molotov. But that was the last thought he wasted on the spring break from hell. Because the moment everything was set up, Steve pulled his shirt off like he was in a goddamn cologne ad.

That unnecessarily sexy way where he grabbed it off his back and pulled it of, shaking out his hair as if it would dare to fall out of place.

So here's the thing.

Eddie saw Steve shirtless that one time back in Hawkins. But it had been dark, and they were on a boat hunting an evil wizard and then in an underworld running from demon bats and there had been a lot going on, okay? He's ogled Steve plenty since then, now that he had time to, but he hadn't had an opportunity to see his naked chest again.

"Put on sunscreen!", Robin shouted, tossing it at Steve's head.

"Ow! Rude!" Steve picked it up and obeyed anyway, starting at his arms. Time seemed to slow. Or maybe Steve was purposely going slow, it was hard to tell. Then his eyes met Eddie and his next stroke up towards his neck seemed very intentional.

Eddie swallowed.

"Mind getting my back?", Steve asked.

Eddie didn't trust his mouth for once, so he just nodded, taking the tube of sunscreen and was definitely not thinking about squirting another kind of creamy white substance onto this beautifully dotted back. He tried to distract himself by looking at what the others were doing. Jonathan had already lit up a joint that he was now passing to Nancy. Robin was laid out in a chair, nose in a book.

Argyle was leading the kids down the shore to where they could rent out canoes. Or was it kayaks? All Eddie knew was that El was adamant on some sort of boating adventure.

"You okay back there?", Steve asked.

"Yep, yup, mhm. Almost done." He was done. The sunscreen was completely gone and he was just rubbing circles into his skin for no reason.

"You mind doing my chest too?"

"Wh-hat?", Eddie choked.

"I don't really like the feel of sunscreen on my hands", Steve justified and that was good enough for Eddie.

He still wasn't prepared for when Steve turned around. Eddie sat between his legs and god this might've been the closest they've ever been. Especially with this little amount of clothes between them, both of them in their swimming trunks and nothing else. Eddie squeezed some sunscreen onto his hands first, rubbing them together and warming it before pressing them to Steve's chest.

Goddamn it felt so....would it get thicker as he got older? It went all the way up to his collarbone and there was just a hint of a happy trail now but maybe with some time...

"They do know we're still here, right?", Nancy asked after letting out a puff. True, they were some feet away but still.

"I've got a spray bottle in case they go below the waist", Robin said, shaking said bottle.

Steddie bingo under the cut

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #thanks for the ask!#no they're not dating #yet #but by the end of this trip they might be #given that steve is straight up seducing eddie LOL

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pinkanonwrites · 1 year

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So I absolutely love your writing and was wondering if I could suggest Riddle, Leona, Jamil, Azul with an s/o who had horrible scarring and doesn’t talk about it. So naturally the boys would assume it’s a sensitive topic, and treat them delicately… But turns out that those scars are from something stupid like getting into a fight with a raccoon.

Sure thing! As expected, this ended up being a bit silly. Hope you enjoy!

GN! Reader

The first time Riddle saw your scars was when you rolled up your sleeves while helping Trey bake for the next Unbirthday party, simply trying to not let your cuffs dip into the sticky batter. Both his and Trey's gazes lasered in on the horrendous scarring up and down both your arms, but neither of them said anything besides sharing a small, worried glance. He wanted to ask you about them but knew this was neither the time nor the place to do so.

Other Heartslabyul members can tell from a glance not to bring them up, lest they risk a swift and merciless collaring by their housewarden. Whenever your arms are revealed Riddle's expression tightens, surveying the room as if he's daring his fellow students to make a comment or ask a question about them.

When he finally musters up the courage to ask about them, reassuring you he finds you beautiful and just wants to know if you're hurting, boy if he doesn't feel a bit silly when he finds out you got them from trying to pick up an opossum when you were a little kid. His cheeks get all puffed out and his face turns red, promptly shutting himself up and turning away as you coo and thank him for being so worried about your well-being. He does enjoy the praise, as flustered as he looks.

Lazing around with Leona in the midday sun of the conservatory, you stretched your arms over your head and accidentally revealed to him a series of long, thin scars that ran over each of your sides, just above your hip. His brow furrowed as your shirt covered them once more, cupping a clawed hand gently over your hip and tugging you close to snuggle up to him.

He's always liked to wrap a hand around your hip to keep you close to him, to stake his "ownership" of you. But now he does it so gently, so lightly it almost tickles as he rubs his thumb back and forth over the soft skin hidden beneath your shirt. You do the same to him sometimes, running your thumb so lovingly over the scar on his face when he rests his head in your lap, the least he can do is offer the same comfort.

You finally mention where you got the scars when Leona comes to visit Ramshackle. As you liken the rickety house to an abandoned building you and your friends explored near your school, mentioning how cut up you got squeezing through one of the shattered doorways, it finally clicks for him. From there the teasing floodgates are opened, and every time he finds you with a little scuff or scrape he asks if you were reigniting your urban exploration fantasies.

After Jamil's overblot, when you rolled up your pant cuffs to splash around in the cool water of the oasis, that's when Azul first saw your scars. Dozens of jagged lines and puncture marks everywhere from your ankles all the way up to your knees. It made his stomach turn a bit, trying to imagine what or who might have inflicted you with those gashes.

He's often hovering around you, making sure you don't get bumped into or lose your balance. If he's not available you'll usually have one or both of the twins observing you from a safe distance, boss's orders. He doesn't want anyone else harming his precious pearl, after all.

When you finally mention that you got all those scars from the wild raspberry bushes around your childhood home, he assumes you're joking with him. He knows what raspberries are, he isn't stupid, but are the bushes really that dangerous? One small hike with Jade later serves to prove that yes, they are, especially if you're a reckless little kid wearing shorts in the summer. He chides you, warning you to not do anything so rash in the future.

Jamil had seen your scar the very first day you had met, along with just about everyone else in school. It wasn't exactly easy to miss; the curved line cutting across your forehead and down into your eyebrow was painfully obvious to anyone who looked at you for more than a few minutes. He didn't think about it much until the two of you actually began interacting on a daily basis.

He watches you a lot, only when he thinks you aren't looking (and often times you aren't). He's not the type to bring it up on his own, it's none of his business after all, but he does worry about you. He's on edge whenever you mention having a headache, even if it has nothing to do with your scar at all.

You mention it offhand one day, the stupid cause of your forehead scar. The man who was re-shingling your house roof when you were a kid knocked a metal bucket off the edge when you were heading out to school, and instead you had to get rushed to the E.R. for stitches. As you proudly regale the story of the ice cream cake and flowers the repairman bought as an apology Jamil breathes a sigh of relief, almost visibly melting into his seat. Now he'll just have to make sure nothing that unlucky happens to you again.

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vonrov · 21 days

Note

Hi hi!!! I’ve got an idea if you’re interested!!

So the reader is an avid literature fan, and they really love Poe’s novels!! One day they meet him and Poe is confronted with the prospect that….. maybe he doesn’t need to keep writing just to possibly stump Ranpo one day…. Maybe he’s already an incredible author deserving of praise,, :’)

^ if that makes sense lol, but I’m super excited to see where your blog goes anyway!! Following immediately <33

a fan?

・ Poe x GN!Reader { Fluff ・ Warnings { None ・ Word Count { 1.3K ・ Masterlist { LINK

It all started when he met a fan. A fan. Someone devoted to his work, someone who enjoyed and loved his writing. He could remember the day like it had just happened. The feeling of his cheeks growing warm, as the tips of his ears reddened with the praise he sought for every time he tried to stump Ranpo with one of his stories.

He also remembers the way he fumbled with his coat and undershirt as the person in front of him would gush and ramble about the different scenes he wrote, the different characters he poured his own attributes into, as well as the attributes he wished he had. He listened with shaky fingers and an anxious feeling bubbling in his chest as they brought up the dialogue he would spend his time reading aloud over and over again until it felt right.

It would be in his next novel, he wrote a character into the ongoing plot who reminded him of the devoted fan he had met out on a walk to gain inspiration.

And inspiration he found.

Inspiration he found in you.

Whenever he felt stumped with his hobby he went on a walk. Down the street, take a right, and pass by that cafe he was always too scared to go into because of how deadpanned the barista looked in the mornings. It was the same route he had met you. Every time he went out on one of his brainstorming walks, he hoped that the two of you would cross paths again.

And like fate intended, that would happen on a random Tuesday about a month later.

The air was fresh with summer approaching as the trees were green with branches full of leaves. A slight breeze flowed about the city, the only thing reminding Poe about his need for a summer wardrobe change soon, as it kept him just cool enough to enjoy his stroll. He walked with his head down, holding a leather-bound book in his hands as he watched his shoes land against the pavement with audible clicks.

“Karl would have loved this weather, it’s a shame he was napping when I left.” He spoke to no one in particular.

“Karl is your pet raccoon, right?”

“Yes, he’s-” His voice got caught in his throat.

He was too lost in his own musings to notice you were right next to him, about to enter the cafe he would usually pass on his walks, clad in a uniform he’d seen somewhere before. It was almost humorous how quickly his expression had gone from deadpanned, deep in thought, to a somewhat frightened look of ‘holy fucking shit’ in a matter of seconds.

He blinked owlishly at you as you just looked at him with a smile.

“Do you come here often?” You pointed at the cafe’s entrance, a crooked smile stretching across your lips as you tried to relieve the awkward tension.

“Uhm- No, not particularly.” Liar. Even though hes never entered the cafe, that doesn’t mean he hadn’t walked past it almost every day when the weather was nice enough for the past three weeks.

“The sugar cookies here are really nice.”

“O-Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” You looked at the cafe doors before turning back to him. “I’ll be considered “late” for my shift,” You made air quotes with your fingers. “If I don’t get in there in a few minutes.”

“Go ahead then, I’ll have to stop by sometime when I can…”

So that’s where he knew that uniform from. His gaze flew to the window as he bit his lip, avoiding eye contact with the deadpan barista who was definitely watching them through the glass. The uniform the barista wore behind the counter was the same as the one you were currently wearing. He looked back at you before speaking, his voice quiet with apprehension.

“Are you guys pet-friendly…?”

Once he had gotten confirmation that the cafe was pet-friendly, for service animals only, he rushed off with the promise of bringing Karl with him on his next visit.

…

It was the next day he walked down the once new path turned familiar with his animal companion in tow. The weather was much like the day before, minus the pleasant breeze. But the heat did not deter Poe as he briskly walked. His shoes hitting the concrete with a familiar clack. Excitement was rolling off of him in waves at the thought of being able to meet up with this devoted fan of his after waiting for a chance to do so for the past few weeks.

“How can I help you?” A monotone voice spoke.

He didn’t realize he was already in the cafe, standing at the counter, Karl on his shoulder, ready to say hello, only for the person at the front counter to not be you.

Instead, it was that blank-faced barista who was always off-putting to Poe whenever he walked by the big windows of the cafe. He could always feel their stare on him when he paced the sidewalks day by day. Only now, he could see the stare and was standing before them instead of walking past the glass.

Well fuck. That’s certainly a way to flip Poe’s switch from 'fine' to 'not fine'.

“Uhm…” He had to say something. Maybe order something? Yeah, that would be a great way to cover up his ignorance of his surroundings. Karl chirped on his shoulder as the raccoon’s tiny clawed hands patted his head. Poe watched in worry as the barista’s gaze went from himself to the raccoon on his shoulder.

“Please tell me that is a certified service animal.” The barista’s tone was unreadable as their eyes moved back to Poe’s.

“Oh- Y-Yes, he is certified. Let me just…” Poe dug around in his coat, unraveling a few yellow-tinted folded-up papers from the depths of his inside pockets. Unfolding the documents and turning them around for the barista to see. He pointed to a few different places on the papers, explaining how Karl is a 100% certified service animal. “He’s a psychiatric certified service animal for anxiety.”

“I didn’t know raccoons could do that.”

“Me neither…”

…

Thankfully, he managed not to embarrass himself further as he sat down with a warm drink that he didn’t remember the name of and a large sugar cookie. There had been other options of course, but you had recommended the sugar cookie for a reason right?

Karl had jumped from his shoulder and rested in his lap when he had sat down. Not wanting to disturb the raccoon peacefully resting in his lap, his gaze shifted about the interior of the cafe, his eyes scanning over the bright pops of color highlighting the various white tables. The turquoise accent wall behind the counter is adorned with diverse eccentric artwork. His focus was broken when the ring of the bells over the door alerted him.

And to his surprise, you had walked in.

While he was hoping to see you, he wasn’t expecting you to show up, assuming you had the day off when he was met with the other barista behind the counter instead of you. He watched as your head swiveled around, making you seem like you were looking for something- or perhaps, someone with how your face lit up when you saw him.

His assumption was further confirmed once you had started walking over to his table. His eyes followed you as you walked over, his head turning as you now stood in front of his table instead of behind him by the door.

“Is this seat taken?”

“No, not at all.” …

It took meeting a fan to realize something.

It took meeting a fan for him to realize that his novels impacted other people.

It took meeting a fan for him to realize, that maybe he didn’t need to write just to try and defeat Ranpo with another mystery novel.

Poe never even noticed his writing had even strayed from the mystery genre and played more with romance since writing in that new character about a month ago.

Authors Note: I actually cannot believe I managed to write all of those in one sitting. I genuinely think this is the first time I've been able to write over 1K words this easily. Whoever made it this far and is reading this, I need to know your thoughts on this.

I really loved writing this. My first time writing with Poe and while I was writing I decided to headcanon that Karl is a service animal because it makes sense. I hope I nailed his character and it isn't occ. There was something else I was gonna say but I cannot remember, it is 11:33 PM and I've worked on this for at least the past 2-3 hours and I gotta get up in the morning.

Comments and reblogs that tell me what you guys liked or little things that you noticed makes my day. My inbox is still open for recommendations, please check out my pinned post before you drop in though.

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tightjeansjavi · 10 months

Text

blue jeans n’Texas dreams | part 13

“Can’t Help Falling in Love” 𓃗

Pre! Outbreak/no! Outbreak Joel × horseback riding instructor f!reader

A/N: it’s here finally. This is the longest chapter I have ever written for any of my fics. This chapter will make you swoon. It will make you laugh, cry, and feel. Horse dad! Joel and Clover are very special to me. Thank you for being patient, and happy reading.

~word count 13.3k (you heard that right!)

Summary: 4th of July weekend at Joel and Tommy’s family lake house proves to be one for the books. Summer lovin’ never felt so real. (and a pack of raccoons stealing your bra and panties)

Warnings: smut (protective p in v) fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, teasing, filth, a little handjob action, reader has a size kink (if you squint) Joel is an ass man, skinny dipping, mentions of alcohol consumption, public sexual activity, fear of getting caught (but it’s a turn on) praise kink, heavy use of pet names, Joel has some serious horse dad! Rizz, riding it like a cowgirl on the kitchen floor, fluff, some angst, admittance of feelings, Joel talks you through it, soft! Joel, sweetie pie! Joel, sunshine reader, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n, readers nickname is clove/clover because you’re Joel’s lucky charm. Tommy being himself, Sarah showing support for her dad, Ellie exists in this universe and is Sarah’s best friend! (+18) minors dni!

blue jeans playlist:

“Remember, kiddo. Toes up, heels down and eyes forward. If you look down at Frankie’s head, he’s not gonna know where you want him to go. Try and look right between his ears and make sure he’s not cutting off those corners. Good job!” You praised Sarah as she confidently trotted Frankie along the rail. Her and Joel had just started taking joint riding lessons together, and Sarah was ecstatic that her dad wanted to learn with her.

“Joel, honey...”

“I know, I know. It’s my diagonal again ain’t it?” Joel responded gruffly, followed by a light huff. He was wearing the same hot pink leopard spotted helmet from the time you went on a trail ride together. He knew you loved how cute he looked in it so of course he'd have to wear it again, just for your enjoyment.

“Dad, all you need to do is remember to rise and fall with the leg on the wall, it’s easy!” Sarah chimed in as she trotted Frankie through the middle of the arena.

“Easy enough for you, sweet pea.” He bantered back as he eased Whiskey to a gentle halt alongside you and Ezra in the middle of the arena.

You glanced over at your boyfriend with a gentle smile as he reached down and gave Whiskey a light pat on his furry neck. “Are you just taking a breather cowboy?”

“Of course. Jus’ a quick one. Was hopin’ maybe I could get a quick kiss or somethin.’ I think it might really help me remember this whole diagonal stuff.” Joel glanced over at you with a teasing grin playing on his lips.

“Oh? You think it’ll help you remember? Well, in that case..” You trailed off. It was difficult to say no to your Texas tall glass of water, especially when he was looking at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes of his. “Alright. Just one little kiss. That’s all you get.”

“M’so lucky that I jus’ get a little one.” He chuckled warmly as he leaned over the saddle and pecked your lips softly.

“GROSS! Frankie, cover your eyes!” Sarah giggled, her nose scrunching up like a bunny’s nose does.

You couldn’t help but pull Joel in for one proper kiss before you playfully pushed him away. “Alright, you’ve had your kiss, now get your cute ass back on the rail mister! Whiskey has barely worked up a sweat! Get to it!” Your tone was playful and a little teasing as Joel gave you a playful salute in response. “Yes ma'am! Right away!”

When Joel and Sarah’s lesson was finished for the afternoon, they spent the next hour bathing and grooming Frankie and Whiskey before turning them out to the pasture. It was sweltering out under the blazing Texas sun and Joel found you sitting underneath a nearby apple tree close to the pasture fence. You were busy scribbling something down in your notebook. His boots were soft along the grass as he sank down alongside you with a soft grunt. His arm loosely draped across your shoulder as he pressed a light kiss to your sweaty temple. “How’s my girl doin’ today?” He rasped softly.

Your hand subconsciously drifted to his jaw where the pads of your fingers were lightly brushing across his beard. “Pretty good. It’s so fucking hot out though and I literally feel like i’m melting.” You laughed softly.

“Mhmm. Hotter than satan’s asshole, that’s for sure. You still look gorgeous as ever, even if you are meltin’ like an icecream cone left out in the sun, sprinkles and all. I’d still lick you–”

“Joel Miller.” You teasingly warned him.

“That’s yours truly. What’s the matter?”

“It’s too fucking hot for me to be getting horny. You can’t be talking about licking me up, Jesus christ.”

Joel laughed and it rumbled deep within his chest as he gave your shoulder a light squeeze. “Okay, okay. I’ll keep the suggestive commentary on the low, okay?”

“You’re too kind.”

“Speakin’ of the heat, do ya have any big plans for 4th of July weekend?” Joel asked casually, but definitely out of the blue.

You found yourself craning your neck upwards a little so that you had an easier time looking over at him. Your brow raised at the deliverance of his question. “No, I don’t have anything planned at the moment..probably just going to be in my apartment with takeout or something. Why do you ask?”

“Well, umm..I was wonderin’ if uh, maybe you’d like to come up to my Grandad's lake house? Tommy already went ahead and invited Ryder, and Sarah and her friend Ellie are comin’ up as well. I know maybe it's..sorta a big ask of ya? I’d just really love to spend the holiday weekend with you.”

The smile that slowly washed over your face was nearly contagious as your thumb gently swiped across his lower lip. “I’d love to spend 4th of July weekend with you Joel. That sounds like an incredibly fun time.”

“Tommy and I have been goin’ up there since we were kids. Grandad built it himself, and it's got all the rustic charm that you could ever dream of. Got a speed boat as well at the end of the dock, and innertubes as well. Nice big fire pit close to the water and a screened in porch. It’s like a little slice of heaven, y’know?”

“It sounds perfect, truly. I’ll ask Ryder if she wants to go and get a mani pedi with me. It’s been so long since I went on a vacation. I think the last time was in highschool..maybe?”

“I uh—can I pay for you to get your nails done? I know, I know. You got a thing about me not payin’ for ya, but let me treat you, okay?”

“Joooeeeel.” You let out a light huff as you leaned over and pecked his cheek affectionately. “Fine. You can pay for my nails under one condition, I want you to pick the color out.”

“Oh no no. Darlin,’ I ain’t equipped for that. I don’t know nothin’ about nail polish colors. Sarah’s painted mine about a dozen times, but she always picks the color out.”

“Baby, c’mon. It would make me oh so so happy if you picked the color. I want it to be a color that you like. Please?” You lightly fluttered your lashes at him.

Joel laughed, shaking his head slightly before he ultimately gave in. “Alright, I’ll pick out a color for ya, but in order for me to do so, I need ya to stay super still so that I can admire your beauty.”

“You’re such a dork.” You stifled a laugh as he was intently studying you, and your features. From the tone of your skin, to the color of your hair and eyes. He wanted to make sure he picked out the perfect color to compliment your features that he loved so dearly. “I’m thinkin’ any shade of blue. Maybe even a light blue or teal? I think that will compliment you very well, baby. Jus’ know that you can pull off any color regardless.”

“Hmm. Light blue, or teal? I think I can handle that. Any specific reason why you picked those colors?”

Joel looked over at you with a tender, soft smile. “Jus’ think those colors will really bring out the color of your eyes.”

Goddamn your Texas tall glass of water always being a total sweetheart.

“He offered to pay for your nails too? Goddamn girl. If that ain’t a man in love..” Ryder was sitting next to you in the pedicure chair while she flipped through the latest tabloid magazine.

“Ryder, don’t be ridiculous. We haven’t been together that long for him to feel about me that way. He did get all bashful when I asked him what color nail polish he’d like to see on me.” You looked over at your best friend with a small grin. “Then he proceeded to study my face as if I was the Mona Lisa or something.”

“Honeybun, that man is so fucking in love with you, I’m surprised he hasn’t fallen over his two feet just from you walking into the room. Babe, you are the Mona Lisa in his eyes.” Ryder reached over and gently gave your arm a squeeze.

“Just like you’re the Mona Lisa in Tommy’s eyes.” You shot her a playful wink.

“Speaking of our Miller men, what are you going to wear this weekend? Don’t you dare say whatever you have in your closet. I will drag your ass so fast to the nearest mall.” Ryder threatened you playfully.

“Ryder, you know I can’t stand the mall. Besides, I was just going to pack a few t-shirts and shorts and a bikini or two.”

“Nuh-uh we’re going shopping. We’re going to find you a bikini that was quite literally made for you. Joel’s going to take one look at ya and his brain is going short-circuit. Trust me on this one babe.”

“Okay, fine. We can go shopping. Just know that I’m only agreeing because I love you.” You leaned over the armrest of the chair and pecked Ryder’s cheek playfully.

“Damn, I think Tommy has some serious stacked competition now!” Ryder giggled as she leaned into your kiss.

The mall was surprisingly not as busy as you were expecting it to be. Ryder was already grabbing your hand and pulling you to the nearest summer wear store she could find. She grabbed numerous bikinis for you to try on before ushering you into the nearest dressing room.

“Are you sure it’s necessary for me to try every single one of these on Ry?”

“Babe, yes. We have to find the perfect one and it’s definitely in that pile that I gave you. So, how are you and your Texas tall glass of water?” You could picture Ryder wiggling her eyebrows suggestively through the otherside of the dressing room door.

“Pretty good. Him and Sarah are taking joint riding lessons together now. She’s totally kicking her dads ass when it comes to remembering to trot on the correct diagonal. He’s an absolute good sport though, and Whiskey seems to like him.”

“That’s so fucking cute that they’re both taking lessons now. Tommy and Callus get along pretty good as well. We should all go on a trail ride or something one of these days.”

“How about when we get back from this trip? We can pack a picnic too and make it an all day adventure.” You had just finished trying on the first bikini. It was a soft white color with ruffles, and enough coverage for it to still be family friendly.

Ryder looked up from her phone when you had slipped out past the dressing room door and gave her a little twirl. “Oh, babe! I love this one. How do you feel in it?”

“It’s super cute, and I’m a fan of the cut and the straps..just feel like it’s missing something y’know?”

“Absolutely. Well, there’s plenty more for you to try on so get your cute ass back in there!” She gave your hip a playful tap.

“Don’t mind me prying.” Ryder continued, “the last juicy details you gave me were when Joel went down on you. Anything else exciting happened since then?”

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you adjusted the straps on the next bikini you were trying on. “We haven’t fucked yet. Ever since that whole incident with Logan, things haven’t progressed. Which is honestly totally okay with me. Is it bad that I’m hoping that maybe it’ll happen this weekend?”

“Oh girl, I bet he’s also hoping that it’s going to happen this weekend. Can’t say I blame him, you’re the entire package wrapped up with a pretty bow. If there’s ever a moment where you and Joel want to get some alone time, just holler for Tommy and I to watch Sarah and her friend. I think we can definitely keep our hands to ourselves for a few hours.”

“Fuck. Do you really think that he’s feeling that way too? I mean..I was going to bring a few condoms regardless. I just also don’t want to rush him, or make him feel like he’s pressured to have sex with me.”

“Babe, I bet he and Tommy have already discussed it. Hell, they probably are talking about it right now. I don’t think you could ever make that man feel pressured to do something, hun. You’re the sweetest person I know, and you’re both so considerate of one another’s feelings. My best advice to you is to just go with the flow. If it happens, it happens. I’m definitely rooting for y’all regardless.”

“Yeah, we both are really considerate of one another’s feelings. He’s just—he’s so sweet. He’s so patient and honestly I’m still getting used to being in a healthy and stable relationship. I wake up everyday not worrying about where or who he’s been with. He respects me and my horses. He’s amazing with his daughter. He’s—”

“Babe, are you sure that you’re not in love?” Ryder asked with a raise of her brow. “You sound like a woman madly in love. I’m just so happy that you’ve found a man that treats you so well. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve it.”

“Okay, maybe I’m just a little in love. Just a tad. Just an itty bit in love.” You checked out your appearance in the mirror. You liked the way this bikini accentuated your body. You liked the color and the multicolored flowers scattered about the fabric. It was perfect, and you couldn’t wait to see Joel’s reaction when he would see you in it.

“Oh my god, that’s it! That’s the one! Oh, you look so so beautiful!” Ryder gushed as you stepped out of the dressing room.

Before the day was up, you couldn’t help but text your boyfriend about trying on bikinis, and how excited you were for the long and fun weekend ahead.

Hey, handsome. Wait until you see the bikini I got today ;)

Joel was out to dinner with Tommy and Sarah at the local diner when he saw your text. He couldn’t help the rosy shade that washed over his cheeks. It made him feel like he was back in highschool, with his first crush and all the giddy feelings that came along with it.

Yeah? I can’t wait to see it and take it off of you, baby ;)

“What’s got you smilin’ at your phone like a love struck fool Joel?” Tommy asked curiously from across the table.

“S’nothin. Jus’ my girl askin’ me how my day went.”

Tommy couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his lips that were resting along the rim of his beer bottle. “Mhm. I’m sure it was just that.”

When Joel got home later that evening and Sarah was tucked away in her room, he found himself sinking down onto the comforter with a heavy sigh. It was an incredibly long day on the job. His back ached, and his feet and calves were sore, but then he thought back to your text from earlier, and a sudden confidence washed over him as he laid there. He pulled his phone out of his pocket before grasping his belt and pulled it loose as he shimmied his jeans down his legs and kicked them off to the side. He scooted himself back against the pillows for leverage. His thoughts drifted to you as he used his teeth to hold the hem of his t-shirt up so that you’d be able to see his happy trail and abdomen. It didn’t take long for him to get hard as he imagined just how fucking amazing you were going to look in a bikini. His freehand reached for his phone and he quickly snapped a picture with his boxers visible and just the bottom of his face where you could see his teeth holding up his shirt.

He sent the image to you along with the words,

for u ;)

You had just gotten back to your apartment when your phone buzzed in the cup holder. The last thing you were expecting was for your boyfriend to send you a very cheeky photo of himself in his boxers. You stared at the message and the photo for a good couple of minutes before typing back,

That’s not fair :( I wanna see your handsome face dammit

Okay, I won’t lie. I am incredibly turned on right now.

Look at you being all cheeky ;)

I like this side of you, Miller. Can’t wait to see more of it x.

Joel was already in the shower while you had innocently blown up his messages. He may, or may not have tugged one out while moaning your name under his breath while his palm was resting flat against the shower wall. His free hand was wrapped firmly around the base of his hardened cock. Everytime he twisted his wrist and dragged his thumb across his leaking tip, he thought about you. He took his lower lip harshly between his teeth as his lashes fluttered shut. Who knew he could be a little naughty.

When he got out of the shower he wrapped a towel loosely around his hips as he grabbed his phone from the countertop. He eagerly checked to see if you had responded to his picture, and he couldn’t help but let a chuckle slip past his lips as he read your messages.

He sent you another photo, this one was a selfie of him in the steamy shower mirror. His hair was damp and curly and the towel was just barely hanging onto his hips. God, did he look so handsome.

Is this better? ;) his message read.

Much better x. You responded back.

Friday morning had rolled around in a flash and Joel was in his room checking to make sure that he had grabbed everything he needed for the weekend ahead. He almost didn’t catch the glaring obvious box of condoms sitting on the top of his opened weekend duffel. Not only were there condoms, but there were also handcuffs..and lube? “God fuckin’ dammit Tommy.” The older Miller brother muttered under his breath. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers with a shake of his head when he found Tommy’s note under his generous gifts.

Here’s to you getting laid this weekend big brother ;) xoxo -Tommy

Joel stuffed everything back into his bag before he zipped it up and tossed it over his shoulder. “Hey Sarah, Kiddo? You almost ready?”

“Yeah! Just gotta grab the snacks from the pantry and then I’m good to go!” Sarah responded from down the hall.

Joel reached for his phone that was resting along the nightstand. He checked the time before sending you a quick text while he slipped past his bedroom door.

Hey darlin, heading out shortly. Gotta go pick up Sarah’s friend, and then we’re gonna stop at a Starbucks before picking you up. Can’t wait to see you x.

When you heard the familiar sound of heavy truck wheels rolling into your otherwise quiet parking lot, you quite literally raced out of your little apartment, weekend back strung over your shoulder as you excitedly descended down the old metal staircase. There was no reason for you to hide your genuine excitement to spend the weekend with Joel, his family, and your best friend.

Joel tipped his sunglasses down over his nose as he watched you gleefully run down the steps. His lips curved up into a grin when he saw that you were wearing a simple yet pretty sundress. It was light yellow with little flowers scattered throughout the flowing fabric. What he really zoned in on was your smile. It was the brightest he had ever seen it, all teeth with your eyes crinkling in the corners. You were beautiful, and Joel was a man truly, madly, and deeply in love.

“Oooh so that’s your old man’s girlfriend?” Ellie was grinning from ear to ear in the backseat where she was seated next to Sarah. “Hey, Mr. Miller? How the hell did your ugly mug end up with that?” She teasingly asked.

Ellie was like family to both Joel and Sarah and she was as much of a little trickster, as she was a sweetheart. It was no wonder that her and Sarah became best friends one day on the playground back in kindergarten.

“Kid, I actually have no clue how I ended up with someone as beautiful as her. I’ll let ya know as soon as I figure it out, Kay?” He shot the two girls a little wink before he slipped out of the driver's seat to meet you just outside at the front of his truck.

“Christ almighty. Ain’t you just a sight for sore eyes? That is one hell of a dress, and one hell of a woman wearin’ it.” Joel lowly whistled as he pulled you in for a hug, lifting you off the ground slightly as he inhaled the sweet smelling perfume that you were wearing.

“Hey handsome, happy to see me?” You looped your arms loosely around his neck as he stole a quick kiss from your lips.

“Happiest goddamn man alive. He pecked your cheek sweetly as he set you back down onto the pavement. “Lemme take that for ya. Latte’s waitin’ for ya in the cup holder. Sarah loaded up on snacks as well.” He slipped your overnight bag off of your shoulder, ushering you to the passenger door with a light tap to your ass that had you looking over your shoulder at him with a soft giggle.

“Oh wow, so he’s like really in love with her huh?” Ellie asked as her and Sarah watched the way you and Joel embraced without a care in the world.

“This is truly the happiest I have ever seen my dad. She’s so freaking cool too. I’m just so happy that he finally has someone, El.”

Joel had safely secured your duffel bag along with the rest of the luggage in the bed of his truck. He had one more surprise for you in the glove box and it was a certain CD that he just knew would bring a smile to your face.

Once you were situated in the passenger seat you said your hellos to Sarah and Bella as you buckled in.

“Open the glove box f’me doll.” Joel softly requested as he started the ignition.

With a curious raise of your brow you popped open the glove box where you found Spirit Stallion Of The Cimarron soundtrack CD.

“Oh my god, did you really? Joel! Are you sure you’re ready for what you’ve just signed yourself up for? Sarah and I know all the words to every song.” You leaned over the center console pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as you took the CD out and slipped it into the slot.

“Baby, I think you’re forgettin’ that I also know all of the words. The soundtrack, as Sarah says, is bumpin’ and I gotta agree. Bryan Adams is a genius.” He toggled with the volume when soundtrack #1 Here I Am crackled through the old speakers.

Here I am, this is me

There’s nowhere else on earth I’d rather be

Here I am, it’s just me and you

Tonight we make our dreams come true

For the entirety of the drive it was filled with laughter, singing and Ellie’s shitty puns book that she took with her everywhere.

Joel and Tommy’s family lake house was everything you imagined it to be, and more. It was nestled between a grouping of pine trees overlooking the shimmering water below. It has a long wooden dock leading down to the water's edge. There was a stone path off to the left leading to a fire pit surrounded by handmade chairs with peeling chipped paint. They were obviously well loved and you couldn’t help but imagine a very young Joel Miller sitting on his granddad’s lap with marshmallow fluff and chocolate smeared all over his face.

At the end of the dock was a decent sized speed boat covered with a thick blue tarp. Adjacent to the boat was a pair of Yamaha Jet Skis.

Ellie and Sarah wasted no time to grab their bags from the bed of the truck and set them down before they raced to the dock, their girlish giggles filling the air as Joel hollered after them to not go into the water without an adult present.

“I’m surprised that Tommy and Ryder aren’t the first ones here.” You remarked as Joel handed you your bag.

“I ain’t that surprised. They probably ended up stoppin’ for gas or somethin.’ Maybe a little more than just gas, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively as he hauled out two cases of beer.

You playfully swatted his shoulder with a teasing smile. “You think they fucked in a gas station bathroom?”

“Wouldn’t put it past ‘em. Especially Tommy. He’ll fuck just about anywhere. Pretty sure I found a cum stain on the passenger seat in his truck the last time I was in it. Haven’t been in there since.” He hopped down from the bed of the truck and slammed it shut.

“and..what about us?” It was bold to ask but after Joel had sent you those pictures..you couldn’t stop thinking about it since.

“Us fuckin?’” He finished the sentence for you and all you could pay attention to was the way his voice dipped down an octave and his Texas drawl grew thicker. He was standing close to you now, hands slowly clasping around your cheeks as his cinnamon brown eyes bore into yours. “Baby, of course we will. We got all night to get into those shenanigans, okay?”

His close proximity, his tan biceps, lingering aroma of cologne, mixed in with his suggestive verbiage had your mind spinning as you wasted no time to close barely-there gap between you. Your lips slotted together as his hands dropped from your cheeks and found purchase around your waist, bunching the fabric of your dress between his fingers—

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Fucking Tommy.

“Well, I’ll be damned! Don’t y’all go’n stop on our account!” Tommy whistled from the open window of his truck.

Joel loosened his grip around the fabric of your dress as his lips detached from yours. With one hand on your ass and the other with his middle finger angled high in the air, you just knew that this weekend was most definitely going to be one for the books. “Show ain’t for free! Y’all gotta pay up!” His voice vibrated warmly up your chest.

“Pay up?! Hell no brother! Ain’t payin’ you shit!” Tommy hopped out of his truck.

“C’mon.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. “Wanna give you a tour of the house before these two try’n ruin it. Last stop will be our room.” He drawled out ‘our room’ with almost a low purr that sent shivers trickling down your spine.

You caught Ryder's knowing wink from the passenger door as Joel steered you towards the front door, his arm securely fastened around your waist as if he was stuck to you like glue.

The house was rustic and homey. You could tell right off the bat that Joel’s grandparents were maximalist’s by their decorating style. Handwoven quilts laid perfectly across the arm rest of the dark teal couch. There were photographs of Joel, Tommy scattered about. There were quite a few of Joel and Sarah as well. The kitchen was dated, yet charming but you didn’t pick up on most of the details because Joel was already pulling you up the staircase to the room in the house that had the best view of the lake. “Gotta be quick when pickin’ out a room. Tommy usually always snags this one but not this time.” He closed the door softly behind you with a light click.

You could already feel the excitement pooling deep within the pits of your tummy and between your thighs as your eyes landed on the fairly large bed pressed up against the wall. “I see why you picked it. The view is amazing..”

“It is quite a beautiful view indeed.” He wasn’t talking about the lake of course. He was talking about you.

You could feel his warm presence coming up behind you, strong arms winding around your body as he pulled you flush against his chest where you could feel his rhythmic heartbeat skip a beat. His hands splayed across your hips scrunching up the fabric of your dress once more. All he had to do was dip his fingers a little lower..

“Joel?”

“Yeah baby?”

“How long do you think we have till they come looking for us?”

“Ten minutes tops. Why? You got somethin’ mind?” His lips were brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder, pressing soft kisses against your warm skin. His teeth playfully nibbled on the strap of your dress as he dragged it down slowly, listening to your harsh intake of a jagged breath as your back arched into his broad chest.

“How fast do you think you can make me cum?” You whispered through the thick growing tension that coated the air in an aroused filled haze.

“You challengin’ me? 5 minutes tops. Maybe even a little less. S’Nice that you’re wearin’ somethin’ accessible. It’s so easy for me to just..” he slowly dragged his hand down your stomach feeling you clench inwards as his fingers dipped under the fabric of your dress and brushed over your covered core where he could feel the damp patch growing through the thin fabric of your panties. “Y’want my fingers or tongue? Can getcha off either way my dear.” He purred.

“Fingers. I want to see what you’re really made of, Miller.”

“Think that’s a challenge I’m willin’ to participate in. Just need’ya to relax. Spread your legs a little f’me. Use my chest for support. Atta’ girl.” He praised you as his thumb hooked along the side of your panties and pulled them aside. “What’s gotten you so riled up, hmm?” He dragged his fingers slowly through your sticky wet puffy lips, gathering up your arousal as he played with you.

“Y-you. You’ve gotten me so riled up the second we got here.” You stammered as one of your hands braced itself against his strong thigh.

“Me? Mmm. Anythin’ in particular that I did to get you so fuckin’ horny? Surprised you ain’t fuckin’ my hand already. You’re absolutely drippin’ for me baby. Y’want two fingers or one?” His thumb brushed across your sensitive, needy clit and your knees nearly buckled.

“Your confidence really gets me off. I love it when you act so sure of yourself. It’s fucking sexy as hell. Two, please.” Your nails lightly dug into his thigh as you braced yourself against his chest.

“You’re so fuckin’ sweet n’filthy. How’d a man ever get so lucky?” He nibbled along your shoulder as he easily slipped two fingers inside of your sopping wet hole while his thumb worked your clit in expert tight circles. “Y’gonna let me hear those pretty noises that y’make baby? I love hearin’ ‘em.” He flicked his wrist slowly as he curled his fingers in a come hither motion.

Your eyes languidly rolled back into your skull as a whimper slipped past your parted lips. Getting fingered by a man never was an enjoyable experience until you met Joel Miller. He just seemed to know exactly how to work you into a putty at his feet with a literal flick of his wrist. “Fuck me. That feels..hnngh..so fucking good baby.”

“Tonight, baby. I promise. Y’gonna ride it like a cowgirl?” He chuckled against your skin as his free hand tightened its grip around your middle, holding you in place against him. His presence and grip on you was deliciously overwhelming. Your hips bucked up against his hand as his fingers ruined you into oblivion. It was almost embarrassing how quickly your Texas tall glass of water coaxed an orgasm out of you. Your little whimpers and mewls egged him on and created an uncomfortable tightness in his cut off shorts as he slipped his now glistening fingers out of you.

You could faintly hear Tommy and Ryder calling you just down the stairs as your body settled into a post-orgasm daze. Your eyes flitted down to his fingers coated in your cum and much to his and your own surprise you grabbed his wrist and brought his fingers to your awaiting mouth.

He let out a guttural grunt deep within his chest when your warm lips wrapped around his fingers and licked them completely clean and soon he had you pressed against the door, lips fervently pressing to yours so he could get a proper taste himself.

“I’m going to do more than just ride it, Cowboy.” You mumbled against his lips as he caged you against the door.

“I ain’t gonna doubt that for a second baby. Why don’t ya freshen up and get changed. We’re gonna go out on a boat soon. The girls are gonna wanna go tubing. You up for it?”

“I’m up for anything and anything.” You were quick to respond.

“That you are my girl. That you are.”

Joel and Tommy had just finished removing the heavy duty tarp from the speedboat while Sarah and Ellie were swimming along the shoreline where both Joel and Tommy could keep an eye on the girls. You could never be too careful.

Ryder had found you shortly after Joel had left the bedroom and she barely got a word in before you told her what just went down. You giggled about it like two little school girls as you changed into your bikinis. Your skin was still tingling from Joel’s touch as you slipped your little woven cover up skirt over your bottoms. You slipped one of Joel’s baseball caps over your head along with a pair of sunglasses and flip flops.

On your way down to the dock you each grabbed a beer from the stacked fridge in the kitchen. There on the fridge you noticed a photo of a younger Joel, holding a very very tiny Sarah and a woman next to him that you easily figured out was Sarah’s mom. He looked to be in his early 20’s, with the same boyish grin on his face that you had fallen so hard for. He was beaming like a proud father in stark contrast to the facial expression of Sarah’s mom in the photo.

Joel was a good father, and a good man. You couldn’t imagine why anyone would ever think to leave him and Sarah like that. For this reason you hoped you’d never meet his ex-wife.

Joel and Tommy were too busy making sure that the boat was up and running when you and Ryder descended down the dock. Tommy had noticed first and he gave Joel a light thwack on the head eliciting a grumble from the older Miller brother before he too looked up. His jaw just nearly dropped to the floor when he saw you in your bikini matched with your smile that could light up even the darkest of places.

“Hey, Miller? You keep your mouth open like that and you’re gonna catch flies!” You teasingly spoke.

Sarah and Ellie both giggled at your comment and Joel playfully narrowed his eyes on them. “Y’kids wanna get your life jackets on? Tommy is gonna finish hookin’ up the inner tubes and then we’ll be all good to go!” He shot you a wink as he offered you his hand to help you onto the boat.

You graciously took his hand as he barely broke a sweat on lifting you onto the vessel. You couldn’t help but imagine what other ways he could lift—

“Cat got your tongue darlin?’” He questioned suggestively.

“Can’t say it in front of the kiddos I’m afraid.” You gave his cheek a loving pat as you slipped past him and plopped down on one of the seat cushions, tipping the rim of the beer bottle back against your lips as you took a sip.

Tommy helped Ryder on in a similar fashion as Sarah and Ellie climbed onto the inner tubes attached to the back of the boat. Joel being the father he asked both girls to check to make sure their life jackets were secured and once he was satisfied, he gave Tommy the thumbs up to start driving.

“Hey, uncle Tommy?” Sarah asked as she gripped onto the Velcro straps along the tube. “Can we go faster than we did last time? Pretty please?”

“How fast are we talkin’ kiddo? Y’know your dad is a bit of a sour puss with this stuff.” Tommy chuckled from the driver's seat of the boat.

“Dad? Pleaseeee can we go super fast? I’ll even help with the dishes after dinner!”

“Kiddo, you’re on vacation. Just have fun, okay? Hold on tight. You girls have sunscreen on..right?”

“Yes dad!” Sarah quickly responded. “Yes we do Mr. Miller!” Ellie followed.

They did not in fact have sunscreen on as Tommy revved the engine up.

A few fast circles along the lake was all it took for the girls to go toppling into the water with excited screams. It looked like they were having an absolute blast back there and you wanted in on the fun. Joel was sitting alongside you, his arm draped along your shoulders with his head tilted back and soaking in the sun's rays. He’d take an occasional few sips from your beer as he knew you weren’t much of a drinker yourself. “You wanna go out for a spin? It’s as fun as the kids are making it look. Trust me. Tommy and I always had a blast out here as kids. Grandad always made it his personal mission to knock us off the innertube.”

“Let’s do it.” You responded with a grin as you were already hopping up from your seat. Ellie and Sarah had just swam back to the boat and successfully climbed back on. They were all smiles.

“Are you and dad going on it? Can I join you guys?” Sarah squinted up at you through the bright rays of the sun.

“Of course you can kiddo!”

Joel couldn’t help but feel the warmthness in his heart burst when Sarah had asked if she could join the two of you. Even more so when you had helped her back into the water with the utmost care. You were more of a mother figure to Sarah than you possibly knew.

Once the three of you were situated on the innertube with Sarah securely in the middle of you and Joel, Tommy sped off with no warning given as you let out a surprised scream, gripping onto the handles for dear life.

Ryder had managed to sneak a photo of the three of you on her Polaroid camera looking like the happiest bunch just before Tommy took off like a speed devil.

Hours of fun on the lake proved to be tiresome for the two young girls and by 4pm they were pooped. Sarah had fallen asleep against your shoulder at one point with her arms wrapped around you loosely. Once the boat had been parked alongside the dock, Joel carefully lifted Sarah into his arms, kissing the top of her damp head. “I’m gonna bring her inside and then start prepping for dinner. Would you like to join me?” Joel asked you softly.

“Of course. I’d love to.”

A small crooked smile graced his face at your response as he carefully climbed off the boat. An equally exhausted Ellie followed after him back towards the house. Joel helped both Ellie and Sarah out of their life jackets and hung them outside on the porch to dry. Once both girls were tucked away in the bunk room, he padded down the hall to the kitchen just as the porch door creaked open.

“Hey, Tommy and Ryder said they’re gonna take the jet skis out for a bit so it’s just you and me. What’re we cooking, good looking.”

“You’re adorable. I was thinking chicken, roasted potatoes and a few veggie sides for the herbivore?” He softly teased as he opened the fridge.

“You mean the veggie-saurus? That all sounds delicious. You’ll have to show me around the kitchen baby. Y’know, since we got a little preoccupied earlier.”

“The cutest veggie-saurus there ever was. Oh, we got preoccupied alright.” He chuckled as he set out bags of produce along the counter. “Stove can be a little wonky at times, but we do have a perfectly workin’ grill outside. Y’know if you wanna see your man in his element grillin’ shirtless.” He playfully bumped his hips with yours. “Cutting boards are in this cabinet and we got all kinds of prep bowls and stuff like that. Knives are to your left.”

“I think the grill is the logical choice here. Any excuse to see you shirtless is a good one. How do you feel about some roasted asparagus with parmesan and garlic along with the potatoes, and then a good old hearty salad? I make a really mean vinaigrette.”

“How do I feel about that? My tummy is rumblin’ already. You sure know the way to a man’s heart huh?”

“Through his stomach and his—”

Joel silenced you with a chaste kiss to your lips as his arms wound around your waste. “Keep that dirty talk up and I’m gonna say fuck the dinner, and I’ll just eat ya instead.” He grumbled.

“Nuh uh. You are not missing out on my vinaigrette.” You kissed him back with a grin plastered on your lips.

“Then I suggest we get cookin, good lookin.’” He swatted your ass playfully before pulling away from the kiss.

A comfortable silence fell upon you and Joel as he prepped the chicken while you prepped the vegetables. Through the open window in the kitchen you could hear Tommy and Ryder’s laughter echoing over the lake as they raced one another on jet skis. You could hear birds chirping and squirrels chattering in the trees above. It was both peaceful and stimulating. The purest form of dopamine you could grasp your pretty hands around.

The soft crackle of a record player tore you from your sweet internal bliss. You were so at peace that you hadn’t realized that Joel had departed from your side, and was digging through his granddad’s old records in the family room before choosing one. It was Elvis Presley, Can’t Help Falling in Love. A true classic.

The needle slowly fell upon the record with a soft hum as Joel padded over to you. The knife currently grasped in your hand to chop vegetables, was gently removed and replaced with his warm palm clasped around yours. The sun had slowly begun to descend from the sky creating a warm orange-pink hue through the billowing curtains along the kitchen window. A wordless exchange as Joel gently pulled you into his chest and slowly swayed you. His forehead was lightly pressed against your own, eyes soft in the early evening light.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you..

The moment was interrupted when Tommy and Ryder came in through the porch door rather loudly. They were in love, and you and Joel couldn’t be mad if you tried.

Elvis continued to serenade you as you returned to your prepping duties. “Joel?”

“Yeah honey?”

“How old were you when you had Sarah?..” it was a question on your mind since you had seen the photo of him, Sarah and his ex-wife on the fridge.

“I was twenty-two at the time. Only a couple years out of highschool. Sarah’s mom and I were already married. My graduation day was also my wedding day, and that picture was taken up here. It was Sarah’s first time up at the lake house. Shortly after that is when her mom left us. Left me feeling pretty confused if I’m being honest. As far as I was aware, we were pretty happy.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry or anything. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t feel comfortable doing so, okay?” You reached over with your freehand and gave his bicep a light reassuring squeeze.

“S’alright. I don’t mind talkin’ about it with you. It’s a part of me that I think you should know. Anyway, I was young and naive back in the day. I didn’t realize that she was pretty miserable and resentful till it was too late. It was devastating to come home to an empty house one day. I loved her, y’know? I was ready to drop everything to raise our daughter together. She was gone, and I had to grow up overnight for Sarah. Went through the 5 stages of grief all at once. Thank god Tommy was there to pick me back up.”

“I can only imagine how devastating that must have been. I know you loved her, and it’s disappointing that she didn’t respect you enough to at least tell you that she was not happy in the marriage, or as a mother. That’s the part that breaks my heart the most because you’re such a wonderful father, and man. You do everything for your daughter and I pity your ex-wife for that reason.”

“Part of me wishes that she could see just how well Sarah and I have been doing. That I wasn’t going to end up like a deadbeat father struggling to make ends meet. I’d never wish ill upon her, and I genuinely hope that she found her own happiness. If it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t have Sarah. I wouldn’t be a father and who knows, maybe I would have never met someone as wonderful as you.”

“You don’t wish ill upon her because you’re a good person, Joel. You have a pure heart and you deserve all the happiness in the world. I hope you never forget that okay? You mean a lot to me, and I’m so happy that I’m here with you.”

“Are you choppin’ onions right now? Is that why my eyes are waterin’? Goddamn you and your sweet angelic soul.” He chuckled through his tears brimming over his waterline. He sniffled a little as he wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. “Y’know Sarah really likes you. Always goin’ on about you and when I’m going to see you next. You—you don’t even realize it darlin’, but you complete our little family. You just nestled yourself into my heart, and hers without even tryin.’”

You couldn’t stop your own tears from spilling over as you found yourself embracing him tightly with your arms wrapped around his middle and cheek pressed against his chest. “I’ve never thought of myself..ever being a mom, but I love that kid as if she were my own.” You mumbled softly against the well-loved fabric of his t-shirt.

I love you so much

The words were trapped in his throat as he hugged you tightly to his chest with his chin resting along the top of your head.

Dinner was enjoyed out on the back porch table, and your grilled asparagus with parmesan and garlic was the hit of the night. When you and Ryder attempted to do the dishes and clean up the dishes, your men were ushering you outside with the girls to catch fireflies instead. It was the bare minimum, but absolutely mouthwateringly attractive for your two Texas gentlemen to insist on doing the dishes themselves.

The four of you were down along the dock under millions of twinkling stars. Sarah had her childhood firefly lamp looped around her wrist. The base of it had all kinds of stickers on it. Some of them were faded and torn but it was a memory of her childhood only being filled with happiness and love.

“I love her, Tommy. I really fuckin’ love that woman out there.” Joel announced as clear as day while he was drying off the dishes that Tommy had washed alongside him.

“I know you do, brother. I know. When are you gonna tell her? If you..haven’t already?”

“Tonight. I’m going to tell her tonight. After we roast marshmallows, and the girls go to bed. Would you and Ryder maybe mind givin’ us some alone time later?..”

“Of course. We won’t mind at all. I think we’re more than capable of creating our own entertainment.” Tommy responded with a wink. “She wants me to teach her how to play poker and backgammon. Who am I to deny my lady her wishes?”

“Regular poker..or strip poker?” Joel asked with a tiny grin.

“Regular poker to start, but a little strip poker never hurt anyone. What are you and your girl gonna do?”

“I think I’m gonna ask her if she wants to go skinny dippin.’”

“‘Atta boy.” Tommy clapped him on the shoulder with a wolfish grin.

Joel was torn away from his present naughty thoughts when Sarah rushed into the kitchen with her lantern in hand. “Dad! Dad! I caught sooo many fireflies! You gotta come see! We saw a baby fawn with its mom too! It walked out right in front of us and you totally missed it!”

“Woah, how many fireflies are we talking here kiddo?” He hung up the dish towel as he slipped past his brother and carefully took the lantern from his daughter's hands. “Wow! There’s gotta be hundreds in there! You wanna help uncle Tommy grab the stuff for the s’mores? Old man’s gotta go chop some wood for the fire.” He handed her the lantern back with a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“There’s millions more out there! I’ve never seen so many!” She beamed up at her father. “I have to let these little guys go and then I’ll help uncle Tommy!” She raced back outside before he could get another word in.

“Now that’s a happy kid if I’ve ever seen one.”

Tommy had already grabbed the bag of marshmallows, Hershey bars and graham crackers from the pantry.

“Yeah, she is pretty happy huh? Hope she’s always happy like this.”

You and Ryder took equal pleasure in watching Joel and Tommy chop down firewood with their equally rugged hands. Even in the lowlight you could see the muscles rippling in Joel’s back from each heavy swing of the ax.

“What’re you gals looking at?” Sarah and Ellie asked in unison as they plopped down in the wood chips. Both girls had mud on their knees and arms as they had opted to catch frogs now instead of fireflies.

“You’ll understand when you’re older.” Ryder responded with a small smile.

“What is she talking about?” Ellie whispered to Sarah with a light giggle.

“I think they’re checking my dad and uncle out. Y’know, girly stuff.”

“That’s so gross.”

Once the wood was properly chopped, Joel and Tommy used their boy scout’s knowledge to produce the perfect marshmallow roasting fire. In the meantime, Joel headed inside to grab a hoodie and his guitar from his room before he returned to his seat next to you. When he saw that you had a bit of stray chocolate and marshmallow fluff on the corner of your lips, he reached over and swiped it away with his thumb sucking the sticky sweetness into his mouth.

You visibly swallowed hard at the innocent gesture.

Goddamn him.

As more marshmallows were roasted, Joel began to mindlessly thrum his fingers along the strings of his guitar. It had been some time since he played, but it was just like riding a bike. “What’ll it be tonight folks? Somethin’ old, or somethin’ new?”

“It would be downright un-American if you didn’t start with Take Me Home, Country Roads, Dad.”

“Country Roads it is!” Joel started to play the old familiar tune, tapping his foot to the beat and lightly bobbing his head.

The entire time he was playing the guitar, you watched him with subtle softness in your gaze. You loved this man with everything your being possessed. Tonight, you were going to tell Joel exactly how you felt. You were going to tell Joel Miller you loved him.

More laughter and songs were shared as the fire began to die down and you and Joel could equally feel the electric anticipation that swirled between you. It bounced off your shoulders like ping pong balls. It shimmered like the brightly twinkling stars in the dark milky sky above.

Ellie and Sarah both let out an unenthusiastic groan when Joel announced it was their bedtime. He told you to wait up for him while he put the girls to bed. After tucking Ellie in, and then Sarah, Joel was stopped by his daughter's hand reaching out and gently wrapping around his wrist. “Dad?..”

“Yes, sweet pea?”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“Are you going to tell her that you love her? I know she does. She’s just too nervous to say it outloud, but I see it in the way she looks at you when you aren’t paying attention.”

Joel slowly crouched down so he could be at Sarah’s level. His knees cracked and his back felt strained but he didn’t care. “Of course I am going to tell her, sweetie. I’m tellin’ her tonight, I promise. Get some sleep, okay? Sweet dreams babygirl.” He kissed the top of her head, smoothing her curls down softly with his freehand.

“Good. I’m glad that you are. I love you, dad. I’m so happy that you’ve found someone.”

“I love you too sweet pea. Love you so so much. Don’t you go lettin’ them bed bugs bite either.” He kissed her head once more before standing up. “You too El. Sleep tight kiddo.”

“G’night Mr. Miller..or should I say lover boy?” Ellie said with a giggle.

“You’re a goofball. Now I’m serious, girls. Lights out. You’ve both had a very long and fun day.”

“Daaaad. We get it. Go and tell her that you love her!” Sarah swatted at him playfully.

“Alright, alright. I’m goin.’ See ya kids in the mornin.’” Joel quietly shut the room to their bunk room closed. On his way out the porch door he bid Ryder and Tommy a good night, swallowing the lump that was beginning to grow in his throat as he walked back to the fire pit.

“Was beginning to think you had ditched me.” You leaned your head back gently against the headrest on the chair as you looked over at him.

“Me? Ditch ya? Never baby. Everyone’s gone to bed for the night. It’s just you and me now..how do ya feel about doin’ a little skinny dippin?’”

“Sounds like a fucking fun time to me.” You responded with a lopsided almost devilish grin. “Race ya down to the dock?”

“You’re on, baby.” Joel was already peeling his hoodie over his head as you raced past him yanking your own hoodie off and dropping it with a playful giggle. Your t-shirt was next as the wooden dock creaked and groaned as you ran across it. Soon you were just down to your panties with your bra discarded at your feet. The air was a little chilly and your soft nipples immediately pebbled from the sensation as you shimmied your panties down.

“Don’t ya go and pussy out on me!” Joel yelled from a short distance behind. “I will not hesitate to toss your ass in!” He was slightly out of breath as he struggled to pull his shorts down without eating ass in the process. You had made it look so damn easy.

“Oh, shut up old man!” You giggled.

“Who the hell are ya callin’ old? Thirty-four years old you little shit!” He tossed his shorts to the side muttering about how maybe it was too cold to be doing something as frivolous as this. “Shouldn’t we have grabbed towels!”

“That’s pretty old to me! Hey, it was your genius idea to go skinny dipping cowboy!”

“Oh, that’s it. You’re fuckin’ toast sweetheart!” Joel had grabbed ahold of you just as you were about to dive in. He lifted you up with practiced ease before he jumped into the lake with you secured to him.

“Joel Miller—” you were cut off as your body hit the water with a big splash. Fuck, was it cold. You resurfaced with a squeal as you proceeded to splash him.

“It is fucking freezing in here you asshole! My tits are going to freeze off! I swear, they make this shit look way more romantic in the movies!”

Joel resurfaced shortly after you, shaking the water from his hair and he held his hands up in defense as you splashed him. “Hey! I ain’t ever said it was gonna be warm!” He laughed. “How is this not romantic? We’ve got the stars and the moon and okay, my balls are probably gonna freeze off. Gosh darn it! You got any idea how fuckin’ pretty you look with the moonlight kissin’ your skin like that? So pretty. Y’gnna keep splashin’ me or come over here for a kiss?”

You were swimming over to him before he could utter another word as your arms comfortably looped around his neck while his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in close as you instinctively caged your thighs around his hips. “What was that about coming over here for a kiss?” Your fingers lightly twirled the wet strands of hair resting along the nape of his neck.

“You mean this kiss?” Joel whispered, his nose lightly brushing against yours as his lips found their home. His hands found purchase around your thighs as he squeezed them gently, kneading the soft flesh through the water.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you kissed him deeply, lips moving in sync as your chest were flushed tightly together. He could feel your pebbled nipples against his skin. Your lips detached only for him to brush them down your jaw, nipping lightly at the skin as they descended southwards. You tilted your head to the side, granting his mouth easier access as he peppered kisses down your throat, dragging his tongue between the valley of your breasts—

“What the fuck was that?” Whispered as something brushed up against your ankle.

“What was what?”

“Something fucking touched me and it felt slimey—”

“Probably was a fish or somethin.’ We are in a lake after all, honey.” He teasingly remarked.

“What if it was a snake?”

“Honey, I doubt it was a snake. Probably just a fish or maybe even some seaweed—” he felt it now too. “Maybe we..get out now?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” You pressed one last kiss to his lips before slipping out his arms and quickly swam back to the dock. He was right behind you, gently lifting you up before he pulled himself over the edge with a huff.

The two of you sat side by side on the dock still completely bare. His arm gently wrapped around you as he pulled you against his side. “Sarah’s birthday is comin’ up soon n’a couple weeks. I’ve taken some extra jobs with Tommy to make a little more money. I’m a little worried that she’s gettin’ too attached to Frankie, so I’ve decided I’m gonna get her a horse for her birthday. One of her very own. Would ya help me out with that? I’d really appreciate it.”

“Joel..you won’t have to worry about getting Sarah her own horse.”

He slowly looked over at you, confusion etched between his brows as he tried to decipher what you had meant. “Whad’ya mean I won’t have to get Sarah her own horse?..”

You turned towards him, slowly looking up at him as you spoke, “Joel, you won’t have to worry because I am giving Frankie to Sarah for her birthday. I have never seen a kid so happy with a horse before. Frankie adores her, and they make such a fantastic team. They share a real connection, and I want them to be best friends forever. Please let me know if I’m overstepping. I care about your daughter so much Joel. She’s such a wonderful kid, and I’m hoping that you’re okay with this.” He could sense the hesitation and nervousness in your tone. His heart leapt out of his chest and flopped along the wooden dock like a fish out of water. He was in shock that you cared so much about his daughter that you wanted to give one of your horses to her.

He blinked a few times as he struggled to compose his words. Here was his moment. His opportunity to tell you just how much he loved you. He could throw it all out on the table right here, right now. He was ready, and never more sure of something in his entire life till now. With his courage gathered and warmth filled in his heart, he finally spoke.

“I’m so in love with you Clove, it fuckin’ hurts.” He whispered his confession like a warm breeze floating across your skin. His words melted into your pores like oozing bubbling chocolate. A shuddered breath escaped your parted lips as you looked at one another. He awaited your response as the crickets chirped their nighttime tune. “Clove?..”

“Clove, Clover. You’re my lucky charm, baby. It’s fittin’ dontcha think?” He choked out. Feeling slightly stupid for confessing his feelings. He could already feel his brain mocking him for thinking that you’d feel the same way that he did about you. Did he read the signs wrong? Did he overstep? Oh god, did he ruin everything just like that?

His thoughts stilled as your hand gently reached up and cupped his jaw. Your eyes were brimming with tears as you stroked your thumb across his beard with gentle ease. “Joel…baby, I-I—”

“I know honey, I know. S’okay. I jus’ had to say it. I’m so fuckin’ in love with you. You don’t have to say it back. I understand if it’s too much right now and I’m—”

You cut him off by gently pressing your finger against his lips. “Joel, shut up for just a second, please. Of course I love you, you silly man. I love you so much.”

“You—you do? You ain’t just sayin’ it cause you feel obligated to..right? I don’t want you to feel pressured to say anythin’ you don’t want to say.”

“Joel, you sweet wonderful man. I love you. I’m not just saying it to say it. I am so unbelievably in love with you, Joel Miller.” There it was again. That soft smile that only made its presence known when you were around him.

“Been wantin’ to say it for a while. Didn’t want to scare you away or nothin.’ Then you tell me that you wanna gift Frankie to Sarah for her birthday and my heart just..it burst like goddamn fireworks.” He chuckled softly through his brimming tears. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Make my heart burst a little more will ya?”

Joel didn’t have to ask you twice as you crawled into his lap, straddling his hips as you pressed his back against the dampened dock from your drenched bodies. You kissed him everywhere you could possibly reach. Tasting lingering sweat and droplets of lake water on his tanned skin. When your lips descended downwards and brushed across his navel, his hands gently found your face and pulled you level to his. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t have enjoyed your mouth on him, he just wanted all of you instead. “‘Nother time, kay sweetness? Let me jus’ take care of ya.” His lips found yours in a sweet embrace as he gently flipped you over onto your back. “Just wanna have one taste of ya and then we’ll go inside. How’s that sound?”

Your fingers slipped through his damp locks as his head descended downwards between your parted thighs. There was something so distinctly erotic, and downright hot that Joel was willing and eager to go down on you under the soft glow of the moonlight. He made quick work of his tongue, kissing your clit lovingly as if he were worshiping it and your body. He moaned deeply against your core as his tongue worked you in slow languid strokes. He devoured you like a man starved under the stars while your soft moans and whimpers filled the nighttime air with the tune of the crickets and frogs croaking.

“Wrap your legs ‘round me.” He requested as he kissed his way back up your body in a haste. His strong arms wrapped around your back as your thighs clamped around his hips. He had no struggle in lifting you and him up from the dock as he proceeded to carry you inside. He didn’t bother to bend down to pick up your discarded clothing. That would become tomorrow's problem. Now, his sole focus was only you.

Somehow he managed to safely carry you back to the house without tripping over his two feet. You made it increasingly difficult towards the end when you began to press soft kisses to his neck. Your soft touch alone sent blood flowing southwards to his cock as he pressed open the porch door with his shoulder.

“Keep that up and I’m gonna have no choice but to fuck you right here on the kitchen floor baby.” Joel warned you with a low hiss under his breath.

“Mmm. That’s tempting..maybe we can do that later?”

“Christ, woman. You’re gonna be the death of me.” He carried you up the steps, silently grateful that he chose the room that was furthest from everyone else’s as he padded down the hall. Your bodies were still fairly damp as he playfully tossed you onto the made up bed.

He watched as you stretched your legs out, propping your knee up with your arms casually resting behind your head. “Did you bring condoms?..I brought some just in case.”

“Course I did baby. Been planning for this all week.” He went straight to his overnight bag unzipping it as he grabbed the box of condoms and tossed them onto the bed.

Your eyes widened the slightest when you saw what size condom Joel wore. You weren’t the slightest surprised. A broad man such as himself? Of course he was packing. “A whole box, huh? You really did come prepared.”

Joel could feel the nerves slowly creep up his spine as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. It had been awhile since he had last fucked someone and he just wanted to make sure he was good enough for you.

You could sense his hesitation as he slowly sank down along the edge of the bed with a huff. His cock hung heavy between his thighs as you scooted up behind him, pressing soft kisses to his back and shoulder blades as your arms loosely wrapped around his middle.

“Hey, is everything okay? We don’t have to do this tonight, Joel. It’s okay. I promise I won’t be upset or anything. There’s no rush.”

“S’not that I don’t wanna.” He leaned back into your soft touch, his eyes fluttering shut from the sensation of your lips along his skin. “Jus’ been awhile for me and I uh—I wanna make sure it’s good for you. Y’know? I’m just..well, big. I don’t mean it in a tool douchebag kinda way. Jus’ don’t want to hurt ya.”

“Joel, baby. You’re so fucking sweet. I promise you that you’re not going to hurt me. In fact, I don’t mind a little pain. I can take it, trust me. Besides, I like the feeling of a cock stretching me out a little, filling me up. You think you can do that for me cowboy?” Your hand was lightly resting along the swell of his tummy. You liked that he was both muscular yet soft in all the right places. What you would give to kiss and love on his tummy, maybe another night.

Joel let out a shuddered breath and his cock twitched along the comforter from your words. He tilted his head to the side and upwards so he could properly kiss you while his hand found yours and slowly dragged it southward. He turned his body more so he could cup your cheek gently while his other hand guided yours around his cock. The softest groan slipped past his lips as your fingers wrapped around him. “Y’feel how fuckin’ hard you just made me? That’s all for you baby. All fuckin’ for you.”

You stroked your hand around his length slowly twisting your wrist as you eased yourself onto your back, scooting against the mass of pillows. Joel braced himself on his elbow as you reached for the condom and detached your lips to gently tear the packet open. He nestled himself between your thighs as you slowly rolled the rubber on, inch by inch. Words of praise were equally exchanged between you as your thighs spread open more.

“Please, jus’ let me know if it hurts at any point, okay?” His concern for you was genuinely sweet and you reassured him with a gentle kiss to his jaw, his arm rested above your head as his fingers locked down over the headboard.

“I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts. Okay? I promise Joel.” You whispered with your hand still firmly wrapped around him as you guided his tip to brush against your folds.

A shuddered hiss fell between you as he slowly sank into your warmth. His cock was girthy, with thick veins protruding along the skin as he stretched you open. He could feel your pussy fluttering and squeezing around him already as he bottomed out with a harsh grunt. You used your fingers to spread your labia lips open and his eyes drooped down to where your bodies were connected. “Y’gnna play with your pretty little pussy while I fuck her? S’that what you wanna do baby?” He pulled his hips back before thrusting them forward, repeating this a few more times as he fell into a rhythm.

“Mhmm. I want you to watch while I play with myself, baby. I want you to see just how good you make me feel. That’s it. You see how well I’m taking your cock, big boy? I can feel every inch of you stretching me apart.”

“Fuck. Yeah, you’re takin’ my cock so well baby. So fuckin’ well. Y’look so pretty playin’ with your pussy f’me like that. ‘Atta girl. Keep doin’ that.” He rolled his hips into yours a little faster, working between rhythmic slow thrusts where you could feel every inch of him to fast harsh thrusts that shook the bed and headboard into the wall. Your fingers sped up their pace along your clit as you lifted your hips up slightly to meet his thrusts. He was hitting the spongy soft spot inside of you at a deeper angle, and it was heavenly for both of you. You nearly came along his cock when his head dropped down and he spat a glob of saliva right between your fingers working on your clit.

Your moans intermingled in hot puffs of breath as your back arched against the pillows. “Fuck, yes. Please! Please don’t fucking stop, Joel! Don’t stop. I’m—I’m so close.” Your eyes rolled back as the familiar tingling sensation crept up from your toes and ascended up your ankles and calves. Your stomach muscles tightened as his cock twitched inside of you.

“Not gonna stop baby, I promise. Fuck! Want you to cum all over my cock, okay? Think you can be a good girl and do that f’me? Want to feel you completely coat my cock, sugar. C’mon.” His thrusts grew sloppy as he drove himself repeatedly into you. His lips found your shoulder where he kissed and nipped at the skin, biting down harshly as he spilled himself into the condom. The pleasure mixed with the pain sent you into overdrive as your walls convulsed and pulsed around him.

His arm dropped from the headboard as he softly collapsed on top of you with a grunt. His face was pressed firmly into your neck, and his sweat stained damp hair was lightly tickling your cheek. He whispered praises against your skin as he softened inside of you, letting out a shaky exhale that turned into a rumbled chuckle.

Your arms found purchase around his neck as you gently threaded your trembling fingers through his soft tendrils. “What’s got you laughing, Hm?” You couldn’t help but softly giggle along with him.

His strong arm latched around your lower back as he made himself comfortable. “Jus’ feel fuckin’ fantastic right now. Think your pussy sent me into cloud nine baby.” He pressed a sweaty kiss to your throat.

“Yeah? Well, I think your cock fucked me stupid.” You scratched his scalp lightly with your nails, earning a soft hum to creep up his throat.

“Think we mighta fucked ourselves stupid.” He concluded.

“Think you’re right on head with that one Joel. What are we gonna do with that entire box of condoms?”

“Fuck our way through ‘em. Now that I know how amazin’ your pussy feels around me, those condoms will be gone by the end of the weekend.” He gruffly whispered.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Nah. That’s the truth, baby cakes.”

“Round two?” You giggled.

“Baby, let me close my eyes for a few seconds, kay? Your sweet pussy milked me dry. Dontcha worry. Just need to get some fuel in me and you can take me for a real ride. How’s that sound, cowgirl?”

“Deal.”

Joel gently rested his weight on you for a few more minutes before he reluctantly slipped out of you. He disappeared into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and grab a towel. He sunk down onto his knees and gently wiped between your thighs. It was past midnight by the time the two of you made your way downstairs for a light night snack. You were wearing his hoodie and a pair of panties while he had nothing but his boxers and his cowboy hat on.

“What’s the lady got a fixin’ for tonight?” He whispered as he opened the fridge door quietly.

“Grilled cheeses.”

“Fuck. Those do sound good. Okay, two grilled cheeses coming right up.” He tipped his hat in your direction with a lopsided smile.

Once the grilled cheeses were made you and Joel found yourselves sitting side by side on the kitchen floor. He told you stories of all the summers he spent up at the lake house. How Tommy accidentally threw an entire box of sparkles into the fire pit along with all of the lighters. It created quite the colorful show.

How Joel had to get stitches on his eyebrow one year because he ate shit running down the dock.

How Sarah took her first steps and how proud Joel felt to witness them.

How he’d spend early mornings out on the lake with his granddad fishing and giving him life advice.

How you were the first woman Joel had ever brought out here since Sarah’s mom left.

The empty plates were discarded to the side as you found yourself climbing into his lap. Good thing he remembered to bring a condom down with him. His shorts were hanging low on his hips as you rode him, and at one point you had stolen his cowboy hat and placed it on top of your head. All he could focus on was the way your face twisted in pleasure as your hips continued to roll against his. When you both feared waking someone up, your hands gently clamped down over your mouths to muffle your noises.

Somehow fucking Joel on the kitchen floor was the perfect mixture of filthy, and sweet.

It was 3a.m by the time you had pulled yourselves up from the cool tile and proceeded to finally go to bed. There was no reason for clothes to be worn in the bedroom as you both plopped down onto the tousled comforter. Whispers of, ‘I love you’s’ and soft tender touches were shared as you drifted off to a blissful slumber.

Around 7a.m Tommy emerged out of his bedroom to start a pot of coffee. No one else was up and the first thing he noticed just outside the kitchen window was clothes strewn about on different sections of the dock. He took a sip of his coffee with a knowing smirk on his face as his older brother descended down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His hair was a mess and he smelled faintly of lake water and sex.

“Mornin’ brother.” Tommy tipped his mug in Joel’s direction.

“Mornin’ Tommy.” Joel gruffed out a response.

“Say, you may wanna pick up those clothes from the dock before Sarah and Ellie wake up. You wouldn’t want to have to explain that to them..right?” Tommy was grinning stupidly over the rim of his mug.

“Fuck me. I knew I was forgettin’ somethin’ last night.” Joel casually stepped over the spot along the kitchen tile where you and him fucked like bunnies just hours ago.

“Yeah, think ya forgot your pants out there.” He chuckled. “S’there a reason why you’re avoidin’ that spot on the floor?” Tommy asked with a raise of his brow.

“What’re you goin’ on about? I ain’t avoidin’ nothin.’” The heat was already rising up his cheeks.

“No fuckin’ way. You didn’t. You fucked her on the floor? You dirty, dirty dog. Now we’re gonna have to disinfect it n’everythin.’” Tommy tsked under his breath.

“No. You got it all wrong I’m afraid. She rode me to town on that floor. Fuckin’ wore my cowboy hat like a little minx. Absolutely had me speechless. Anyway, I’m gonna go gather up Clover and I’s clothes before the kids wake up.” He saluted Tommy with a small grin.

“Holy shit. Did she really? Goddamn. That’s hot. Hey, Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“Did ya tell her?”

“Course I did.” Joel confirmed.

“Oh thank fuck. I take that she said it back?”

“She did. She’s also giving Frankie to Sarah as a birthday present. You keep that a secret, okay? It’s gonna be a big surprise.”

“Sarah’s gonna be over the fuckin’ moon when that happens.”

“I know. She loves that horse so fuckin’ much. I couldn’t believe it when Clover told me. I was elated jus’ knowin’ how much she cares about me and Sarah.”

“I’m happy for you big brother. Truly, I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you, I’m glad I waited for the right one to come along. Oh, and Tommy?”

“Yeah, lover boy?”

“You think you’d be up for being the best man at my wedding again?”

“Fuck yeah I’d be up for it. You betcha.” Tommy couldn’t help but pull his brother in for a big hug, squeezing him tightly. “Seriously though, do we have to disinfect any other parts of the house? Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Joel clapped his brother on the shoulder as he hugged him back tightly. “Jus’ the kitchen floor. Haven’t tarnished any other spots in the house, yet.” He loosed his grip around Tommy giving him another nod before he poured himself a cup of coffee and slipped past the porch door to gather up yours and his clothes.

Your bra and panties were mysteriously missing..damn raccoons musta gotten to them.

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alt-vera · 1 year

Text

— fishin’ in the dark ⁀➷

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jj maybank convinces you to go fishing with him. he catches more than just a lousy fish.

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♡ | jj maybank | 2.5k | ❛ fishin’ in the dark - nitty gritty dirt band ❜

warnings: 80s!obx. drinking. weed. slight thigh riding. fingering. unprotected piv sex. praise. mdni.

note: obx in the 80’s, lowkey dazed and confused style 🤭

❝ down by the river in the full moonlight, we'll be fallin' in love in the middle of the night, just movin' slow. stayin' the whole night through, it feels so good to be with you ❞

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THE PONTIAC IDLED QUIETLY AS YOU SWUNG YOURSELF OUT OF YOUR BEDROOM WINDOW.

　JJ’s glorious shitbox hummed as you dashed into the awaiting passenger seat, twilight hued sky covering your sly tracks of sneaking out.

　“Thought you wouldn’t make it,” The car owner mused, and you turned your head to look at him with a grin on your face.

　JJ’s blonde hair was tinted an alluring indigo from the midnight sky. He had an adventurous smile plastered across his face, and a healing cut on his lip that made him even more attractive.

　“Yeah right,” You hummed back. “As if i’d miss a creek party. You got the stereo?” Your eyes flicked to the empty back seat.

　“Trunk,” Was all JJ said. He then pulled a tightly rolled blunt from behind his left ear, passing it to you before popping the already lit cigarette lighter just below the radio. You were on the exact same page, sticking it in to get a good light before taking a drag.

　The weed gave you a slight head buzz as you passed the joint, still grinning. The dizziness made you all the more excited.

　Being high made JJ a better driver. This was a fact, no matter how much their friends tried to argue it, so it wasn’t a surprise that he graciously took the blunt you passed to him, his fingers tapping together in excitement to grab it as if he were a little raccoon. The action made you laugh, which made him smile in return.

　“Are we picking up Pope too?” You asked, rolling your window down the rest of the way with the crank and blowing the smoke into the humid summer air, watching it disappear into the wind.

　JJ shook his head, “No ma’am, he’s riding with John B in the Twinkie.”

　You ignored the way your heart picked up when he said that. It’d be just the two of you on your way to the creek, which wasn’t completely unheard of, but usually you’d have a third person and it’d relieve the tension between the two of you. It wasn’t the bad type of tension, because you two were close as could be, but it was the type that lingered between friends that had the possibility of becoming more. The kind of tension that resided on those nights where, when everyone else had gone and it was just the two of them, they’d have to resist leaning in too far or placing hands where they shouldn’t be placed between friends. Nights like tonight.

　“Oh well,” You sighed with a smile, “I guess he’s missing out on the shenanigans!”

　“Right on,” JJ encouraged. “All we have to do is grab the booze from my cousin Ricky and we’ll be on our way to that sweet sweet creek party.”

　Creek parties weren’t nearly as popular in the OBX as the beach ragers because these were for locals only. No tourist traps, hardly any kooks, just pogues doing pogue shit. Plus, it usually lead to a small group at the end of the night going skinny dipping—You knew from experience. Creek parties were fun, honestly one of your favourites, but the fish being so close to you in the water tended to freak you out when you thought about it too much.

　As more and more buildings passed it wasn’t long before the two of you pulled into the side of an almost empty gas station. You could see JJ’s cousin leaning against his jacked up truck, cigarette in hand and box of beer at his feet. JJ left the car running as he jumped out, and you watched the two of them talk for a minute.

　Ricky looked at you, then said something to JJ. You watched JJ shake his head and then say something. Ricky looked at you again before he grinned and gave JJ a smack on the back of his upper arm and winked at him, and JJ just rolled his eyes with a smile. It was pretty obvious that they were talking about you, but you didn’t have a clue about what they were saying. A second after that JJ dapped his older cousin up and hoisted the beer over his arm, giving you a smile as he approached the car.

　He threw the beer in the backseat and climbed back in to be met with a stare from you.

　“What?” He asked, with the grin still on his face.

　“What’d you guys say about me?” You asked, straight to the point.

　JJ laughed with an eye roll. “What makes you think we were talking about you?”

　You gave him a pointed look and he went silent for a moment before saying, “C’mon, it couldn’t have been that obvious.”

　You nodded with a playful smile as JJ turned the wheel and got you guys back on the road. You watched him intently as he kept his eyes trained on the road, but you saw him sneak you a side glance before he sighed.

　“He just was asking who you are and.. well.. if we—Y’know what, it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He just wanted to know who you were.”

　You knew that wasn’t the whole truth, but dropped it anyway with a quiet “Alright,” so that JJ wouldn’t get awkward. Before silence could settle you turned up the radio, Aerosmith blaring through JJ’s beat up speakers.

　The farther you drove the less houses appeared and the more dense the forest got. That’s how you could tell you were almost at the creek.

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　It was around 2 when the party wound down enough that only your group and their hookups for the night were left. Sarah was sat in John B’s lap on a blanket in front of the bonfire, Kie was macking with the boy she’d brought, and Pope was pointing out constellations with a chill kook girl you knew from middle school. That left only you and JJ, who were taking turns flipping a coin and calling sides, making the loser drink.

　“Wanna go fishing?” JJ asked all of sudden. You looked at him through the brown glass of your beer bottle, brows crinkling as you swallow.

　“You wanna go fishing?” You asked, confused. He nodded, grinning.

“Yeah. Don’t know you that the best time to go fishin’ is in the dark?” He asked as of it was the most obvious thing in the world.

　You rolled your eyes but stood up, grabbing your beer. “Yeah, okay. Fine then, lets go.”

　You walked with JJ to his car where he pulled a ratty plaid blanket and a beat up fishing pole out of his trunk. You followed him down the creek to a secluded spot, ignoring the whoops of your friends as they watched you two head off alone together.

　He laid the blanket out along the creek edge and waved his hand for you to sit as if it was the most gentlemanly thing he could do for you, which made you laugh. You watched him cast into the bubbling water, and soon the silence settled between the two of you, save for the distant echoing of the stereo back at the fire. You took a sip of your drink to distract yourself from overthinking everything.

　“Y’know,” JJ broke the silence as he picked at the peeling label of his beer. “This is my favourite spot to fish. I always catch something out here. I don’t think i’ve ever brought anyone but John B to this spot.”

　“So i’m officially on the same level of bromance as you and John B?” You grinned, and JJ rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t call what we have bromance,” JJ replied.

　You laughed, “So, then what do we have? Bromance without the B?” You meant it teasingly, but JJ’s silence made you think that maybe, just maybe, you had hit the nail right on the head.

　“Y’wanna know what Ricky asked me earlier?” JJ prompted suddenly, breaking the silence that had settled like a thick fog. You nodded curiously, eyes meeting his own that swirled with anxiety and tinge drunken-boldness.

　Even over the loud buzzing of the cicadas that surrounded you, you could hear JJ gulp, swallowing the lump in his throat.

　“He was askin’ if you were my girl,” He said, “Asked if you were my current hookup.”

　His eyes bore holes into your skin as you struggled to find something to say. Finally you settled on, “So? What’d you say?”

　“Told him you weren’t,” He let out a huff of air, and it hissed through his teeth.

　“Is that what you want?” You pressed further, “For me to be your summer… thing?”

　“You’re sayin’ it like it’s a bad thing,” He muttered sheepishly, eyes leaving yours to continue picking at his beer label with blunt fingernails.

　“No i’m not,” You replied, and you couldn’t help the airy laugh that escaped your lips. “I’m sayin’ that, if you want that, Maybank, then you better say something.”

　His gaze snapped to yours, brows furrowing under the moonlight that reflected off the water in front of you.

　Instead of waiting for his reply, you stood up, creeping closer to the waters edge before lifting your shirt up over your head. Your shorts followed shortly afterwards, hitting the ground with a soft thud. A cloud passed by overhead, darkness shrouding the two of you, and the next thing JJ knew he was hearing a splash of your body diving into the water. As the light returned he glanced to your pile of clothes, noticing how your bra and panties had joined the assorted pile of discarded clothes.

　JJ swore he couldn’t breathe as he realized that you were completely naked in the water.

　He could see the beads of water cascading down your face and slipping through your soaking wet hair, and he watched as you gave him a welcoming smile. “Well?” You prompted, “Are you gonna join me?”

　He swore he’d never stripped faster. Boots being haphazardly thrown onto the dirt with a soft thud, tee and board shorts joining then quickly, boxers coming to land on the branch of a nearby bush.

　The water engulfed the two of you, a chill setting in your bones as he swam towards you. You both treaded the water beneath you, eyes meeting lustfully as the moons wanton gaze coated your bodies. JJ could barely make out your naked figure beneath the rippling current.

　“JJ,” You whispered as he came close enough that you could feel his hot boozy breath fan your wet skin. “I need you to say something if this is what you want.”

　“Is this what you want?” He whispered back, and you rolled your eyes at him attempting to make the conversation go in circles. When you whispered his name again, this time more sternly, he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his sun kissed face.

　“I want this,” He confirmed breathlessly. “I want you.”

　With that, he kissed you. Two mouths became one, tasting of booze and weed as he licked at you, his arms wrapping around your bare shoulders and entangling you with his body.

　“JJ!” You laughed between frantic kisses, “You’re gonna drown me.”

　The height difference between the two of you was significant, and as JJ pulled you towards a more shallow part of the creek where he could touch the sandy floor and you couldn’t, he opted to raise you into his arms with his muscles wrapped around your waist as he held you up, balancing you on his thigh in the water.

　“Better?” He asked cheekily, and you answered by kissing him again.

　His movements grew more hungry, his thigh moving against your bare cunt in the water. You let out a whimper, and JJ smiled into the kiss, pleased with himself. He plunged one hand into the water, easily finding your seam as two of his fingers entered you, his thumb coming to circle your clit deftly.

　“JJ,” You whispered, “Don’t stop. Please.”

　He didn’t. He kept his fingers in that perfect spot inside you, curling until he felt you shaking beneath him as you came on his hand. “Atta girl,” He praised, removing his hand from your gummy insides and stroking himself. He lined himself up at your slicked entrance, the water making him easily slide into you.

　The stretch around him sent a sharp pain shooting through you, but you fought the urge to grimace, instead being thankful that he was giving you time to adjust. You laid your head on his shoulder, nodding into his skin to let him know that you were ready for him to move.

　He moved his hands to rest on your ass so that he could comfortably hold you up, his fingers gripping the soft flesh as he began to thrust inside you, your walls engulfing him and making him experience a euphoric sort of pleasure that he’d never felt with any other girl before.

　“Fuck,” He groaned out, never losing his pace. “Knew you’d feel fuckin’ amazing. Suckin’ me in like this.”

　You moaned into his collarbone, peppering kisses along his freckled neck, sucking and biting at him in pleasure. You called out his name after a particularly rough thrust, the knot in your stomach quickly unraveling once more as you tightened around him.

　“C’mon,” He encouraged, moving one hand from your ass to your clit again, circling the sensitive bud. “Y’can be a good girl for me. Keep goin’ for me.”

　He fucked into your faster as overstimulation took over your senses, until finally he pulled out. Thick ropes of his cum disappeared into the crystal water around you.

　You both fought to catch your breath, JJ panting in your ear as his vice-grip remained on your ass. He subconsciously kneaded the flesh, and you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound spreading through the night air.

　He leaned his forehead against yours, his breath warming your cheeks as the coolness of the water set in once again, a chill travelling through your body. “Jeez, if i knew that all i had to do was say something then i would’ve done it a hell’v’a lot sooner.”

　You rolled your eyes, smiling into his shoulder as he carried you back onto land. Your clothes became damp as you threw them back on, but that soon became a thought in the back of your mind as JJ patted the spot beside him on the blanket, pulling you into his arms and warming you up.

　A sound distracted the both of you from your peaceful state, and you watched as JJ’s forgot to line jerked in the water. He scrambled to catch the rod, reeling in the line as quickly as he could. On the hook laid a small mouthed bass, wiggling.

　“See?” He said as he proudly held up the slimy fish attached to the line. “I told you that i always catch something while i’m here. Who knew it’d be a girl and a fish.”

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chrollohearttags · 10 months

Text

listen..LISTENNN. I am a sucker for AU’s and especially when they crossover. I feel as if cowboy!reiner and musician!eren would be so stinking cute as relatives and that they would be so hilarious together!

content warning: lots of humor and banter, reiner and eren being clowns, alcohol mention, mentions of divorce and infidelity, angst (if you squint just a smidge)

So country boy reiner and musician Eren are the literal definition of polar opposites. Yin and yang if anyone had ever seen it. Growing up in Northern Jersey with all but a silver spoon in his mouth, Eren was always reserved and only focused on music. He had maybe a handful of friends in his life, who all left by the time he made it to high school. Not that it mattered because he was fairly antisocial anyway. Honestly, that may have been the one thing the two had in common. But unlike Eren, Reiner’s was due more in part to social anxiety and not being an asshole. He actually grew up in southern Georgia; Marietta to be exact. Raised on a huge farm, Reiner was one of the oldest among almost seven children; a mix of cousins and siblings that spend their days raising cattle, competing in 4 H competitions and growing food. Now, the boys’ moms were actually twin sisters and despite the two of them being very different themselves; Carla, an uptown, partying bottle girl turned boy mom that strutted into PTA meetings with her Blahnik handbags and Dior shades. And her sister, Karina; a pie baking, horse riding southern princess that preferred the cattle ranch to the country club. Still, they made it their mission to ensure that their sons had a relationship with one another. So every summer, they would go back and forth, spending a few months with each other. Reiner came into the wealthy suburbs and spent his break at the mall, skating and playing basketball with his cousin. He would show him all the different instruments he had littered around his spacious bedroom. They would then switch off the next year and Eren would come kick it in the sticks with him and the others. Learning to hunt, fish and ride four wheelers. It was a nice time. So naturally, when they got older, they’d keep the relationship going. One day, Eren decides to invite his older cousin down to Miami to meet his wife and vice versa. The four end up going out to dinner and Reiner is really proud of all his cousin’s success; and vice versa. Now, one thing that they did bond over was their love of taking cracks at each other. They would clown one another until one got too mad and then they’d be ready to fight! (all love though) Reiner’s favorite nickname for him was Pavement Princess. Calling him soft and saying that he could not survive his way of life. Eren in turn calls him Country Bumpkin, asking him if he can even read and that he probably catches raccoons with his bare hands like Davy Crockett. (never fails to mock his accent either)

still, the two of them are in his studio one day and Eren’s working on a new song. Something a little different from his usual work and Reiner’s watching him with a beer in his hand and a toothpick dangling at the edge of his teeth. As Eren messes around with his mixing board and synthesizer. “This is witchcraft, Eren. How the hell do you even know what buttons to press to make it sound like that?” He merely shakes his head and laughs, because if only he knew how long it took to master this. “Trust me, dude. It didn’t happen overnight. This shit’s not easy.” Still befuddled by all of this equipment, Reiner just continued sipping his drink and watching the way his cousin flipped a switch here and turned a notch here to cultivate the perfect sound. He respected his craft, that was for sure. But Eren was no stranger to the hard work Reiner did as a farmer. Controlling heavy equipment, overseeing all types of animals and lugging on huge bags of feed and fertilizer all by himself. Hence why he brought him out here for a bit of a break. To enjoy the high life and all it had to offer. Especially after news of his cousin’s impending divorce. Three years with a woman who put him through hell was finally over. “Well I commend you, man. This is crazy.” But there was another reason for this visit as well..

see, besides being a talented farmer, Reiner had one hell of a voice. Often times, the two of them would have little jam sessions that consisted of them trying to outsing the other. Eren, loving the sounds of R&B and pop, opted to belt out renditions of Jon B, Tevin Campbell and Justin Timberlake..as opposed to Reiner, who was akin to Kenny Chesney, Blake Shelton, Tim McGraw and anything country. Despite their differences, their shared love of music was one of the few similarities they shared. Reiner was also the only person outside of Carla that supported his career choice. “When you become all big and famous, don’t forget about me and go all Hollywood, alright?”

It was a promise he made sure to maintain so when they both grew up, got married and lived their dreams, they’d reconvene like this every so often. And of course, he didn’t miss a chance to croon a song or two with his favorite cousin. Only this time, Eren wanted to record him.

“Hey, Rei. What you think about hopping on a track with me?” Questioning absentmindedly as he scrolled through his computer screen. And naturally, Reiner looked at him as if he were crazy! He didn’t mind giving a full performance under the sounds of pouring shower waters or the occasional karaoke performance of Chris Stapleton’s Tennessee Whiskey but singing for the rest of the world to hear? Not a chance. His confidence was not on par for that. “I think you’ve lost yer’ goddamn marbles. I’m not messing up your song.” But he was sadly mistaken! He would only be adding to it and helping Eren flex his creative muscles. EJ had just ventured out to starting his own label so he wanted a variety of sounds for his brand.All he had at the moment was a lonely instrumental, in need of the perfect vocals to add to it.

“C’mon, dude. I think you’ll like it. It’ll help you feel better.” “What are you talking about? I’m just fine, Eren.” trying to convince his cousin that this split hadn’t affected him but it was hard to believe with a pile of Budweiser cans in the corner and a mean five o clock shadow forming on his jawline. Staring him up and down, Eren would hand him a pen and paper. “Here, we’re gonna write a song. And don’t tell me you can’t because you’ve done it before.” Earning him a look of utter shock. “You swore you’d never bring that up again, you bastard.” “And you swore you’d shower this morning but I guess we're both some goddamn liars. Get to writing.” He was the only person to know that Reiner had dreams of being a country singer when he was a mere kid but gave it up very quickly when he all but dedicated his life to farming and helping his family. Now, with this fresh start and lease on life, he could do all of the things he put on the back burner. Even if nothing came of it, it would be fun to relive those old times of singing with his cousin in his room. But he looked utterly and genuinely lost. As if he were afraid to put all of those complex feelings and emotions out there, but if there was one piece of advice the tenured artist had for him, it was this:

“Don’t overthink it, dude. Say what’s on your heart and go from there. You got this.” And from there, Reiner felt a bit of relief and began to pin down EXACTLY what he felt. About the wretched woman that broke his heart..from cheating to taking his money. A beach blonde nightmare with abandonment issues and a serious spending problem. Reiner tried as he might to love her wholeheartedly but she drained him emotionally, physically and financially so needless to say, once he began to pen down those thoughts, the lyrics were coming along nicely. And with Eren’s help, of course, they were sure to have their track done in no time. However, when E.J. picked up that notepad and spotted what was written…his eyes stretched wide as quarters. Not because it was horrible; it was the exact opposite!

“Dude…get in the booth right now. We gotta see how this shit sounds.” He was elated! Like a mad scientist completing the final touches on his experiment. He was ready to hear the results of their hard work. So as Reiner entered behind the glass partition and placed the headphones over his ears, he’d instruct him to step forward to the microphone and he’d let him know when he could begin to sing. It was when he’d turn on the music and let it play to the second eight count, did Reiner start crooning and something inside of E.J. just lit up like a firecracker on the Fourth of July. He knew his cousin was talented but this was something else..an entirely different level! His voice, the register and all the notes he was hitting perfectly, Eren was truly in awe! And with the hook he had added, he knew this little venture had been a success. It was out of his normal element and not his particular type of music but it was beautiful! Except….

“Something wrong? What’s tha’ matter with it?”

“The song’s perfect..but it can use a little something. Hold on.”

at that moment, Eren made a very hasty and reluctant decision by picking up his phone and scrolling to a contact he’d hoped he never had to use. Regardless, he’d press the number and hold the phone up on speaker. Folding his arms, he’d sway back and forth in his chair, awaiting an answer. Finally, he was greeted by that of a raspy and quite frankly, sleep ridden voice.

“Hello?”

“Jean, you ugly motherfucker! How ya’ doing today?”

suddenly, Reiner’s eyes went wide from behind the glass window on hearing his cousin’s phone call. Who could’ve possibly been on the other line that he was saying such vulgar things to with a smile on his face. He knew Eren was a total asshole sometimes but that was not how you greeted somebody! However, he’d soon come to learn that the poor mysterious person on the other end was no stranger at all and rather, one of the world’s most famous artists and someone who did his best to match wits with EJ. Little did he know, they stayed at one another’s throats.

“What the fuck do you want, you dumb bastard? I’m busy.”

“Doing what? Besides sitting on your ass.”

but his call wasn’t just to have an intermittent roast session, he had a favor to ask him. Which was ironic considering that he insulted the man every chance he got and the only thing Jean wanted to give him was a black eye. But there wasn’t a single person that he’d want on this track other than the Atelier Kiss star. He’d tell him that he had something he wanted him to hear before pressing play on the fresh recording of the new track. By the time it got to the end, the line had gone silent. But the response to it?

“…I’ll be over in twenty minutes.”

and from there, Eren knew they would have a hit on their hands. So sometime later, when Jean made his way over and he got the two introduced, Reiner was in higher spirits than Eren had seen him in months. Not to mention, their bond strengthened over their shared joking on EJ. Snickering and cackling like two schoolgirls behind the booth. Picking in his ear, Eren would lean over and speak into the intercom. “While you two bastards are giggling, let’s get this song done. I got things to do.” “Shut the hell up. As you can see, I’m talking to my new friend. There’s no way he can be related to you.” Even so, the three would resume their intended business. Jean would instruct Eren to pick up his electric guitar and play along to the tune of the track as they sang. As much as he hated to admit, it was a genius move! And once things were finished…they had their result.

“I don’t know what to say, man. I love it.” Eren breathed a sigh of relief and gave his cousin their signature handshake. He was so floored by the recording that he even called (y/n) into the session. “Princess, you gotta listen to this.” And the two gentlemen began to recite the song all over again for you. Even making you and Eren both dance behind the recording equipment. It was such a good time and your husband looked so happy to have his big cousin around again. It were almost as if no time had passed between them!

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aplaceinthedark · 3 days

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LOOKING for the MEANING

chapter one: Old Friends, Same Disease

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm.

Word Count: 2777

CW: supernatural themes, attempted B&E, mentions of dead bodies, body horror

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm.

Featured Creatures:

@ladyveronikawrites @lilhobgobbler @deathblacksmoke @cookiesupplier @thatchickwiththecamera

@rottingfern @roley-poley-foley

I learned pretty quickly that Shenandoah Spring never wanted to come when it was told.

I’d heard about “Fake Spring” once or twice from a distant cousin that lived on the other side of the Blue Ridges. The First Day of Spring had come and gone, yet I was certain that some mornings it was still the middle of winter. Mornings like those, I was glad I had a space heater in my bed.

The space heater being my partner, Nicholas Ruffilo.

How most nights he was able to sleep wearing only a shirt and shorts was beyond me. No matter how many blankets I would pile on, or how far I snuggled under his body, I could never get warm. Not that we would complain about the closeness, since some nights felt like they were colder and darker than others.

Tonight was one of those nights - but unfortunately, I was alone.

Night terrors weren’t new to me. Before I left Newport News, I had been warned of the many side effects of PTSD and Survivor’s Guilt. I had been plagued with them constantly until I moved to New Hope, and then they had all but vanished when Nick and I started sleeping together.

Tonight, it was just me and the cats, as Nick had gone to Richmond for the weekend to see his mom. I had stayed behind this time, saying that I was never really alone with our friends in the woods. But now, I was starting to regret my decision.

Usually my night terrors involved the Accident that had happened almost two years ago, but tonight had been different. Instead of Michael’s body, lying lifeless in front of me, it was Nick’s, almost exactly how it had looked last summer. It was an image I hadn’t wanted to ever revisit, but it seemed like tonight my subconscious wanted me to rehash it.

And that’s why I was currently standing on my front porch, alone in the dark.

I took a drag from the joint we had stashed away in our “Medical Emergencies Only: KEEP OUT FOLIO” stash, AKA when we needed to calm down. Despite it being three in the morning, the woods surrounding my house was lively, defying the chill that seemed to permeate everything. I glanced over at the trees, taking in how the moon made them cast long shadows that seemed to claw their way across my lawn.

I no longer feared what those shadows hid.

Which reminded me… I peered behind me, casting my eyes down at the offering plate. It no longer sat down on the porch next to the door, like it was a water bowl for an outside dog. I had put it up on its own little table so as to keep it from getting buried underneath the snow. It held some cookies right now, wrapped in tinfoil to keep the raccoons from getting to them. The fact that they were still there meant Noah or the other two haints hadn’t stopped by to take the offering.

I no longer woke up when one of them would stop by, though a couple of times I would when I felt Nick leave the bed, but I would just quickly fall back asleep after. Some mornings I would wake up to see that Folio had dumped himself either on the living room couch or the bed in the spare bedroom, snoring away.

As I scrolled away on my phone, I felt the air around me go still. It made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. It was a common sign that one of the boys was near, so I looked up to greet whomever it was.

Indeed, there was something in the woods, lurking just at the edge of my property line, where the grass turned into the Weeds. I couldn’t exactly see it, just a faint outline, like those games Nicholas likes to play, when the screen says to turn the brightness down until you can't see the image. The presence lingered there for a long time.

I rolled my eyes. “Hello, Noah,” I called out, putting out the joint in the porch ashtray.

There was only silence in return, and the patch of darkness didn't move. I narrowed my eyes. “Whatever you're doing, Noah, you can do it either on my lawn or fuck off. I'm not in the mood for this tonight,” I snapped.

Nothing.

Unease curled in me. "Jolly? Nick?” I said, using Joakim’s nickname and Folio’s first name, respectively. I tried to keep the fear slowly creeping into me out of my voice, but I don’t think I did a very good job of it.

When I still didn't receive a response, I called out to the shadow with that weird mental connection Noah had with everyone. Noah?

WHAT?

The annoyance in his voice at my intrusion was not helping my panic. Are you anywhere near the house right now?

There was a small pause before he replied,

NO, I'M UP IN THE MOUNTAINS. FOLIO’S ON HIS WAY. WHY?

The second he said the word, No, I was immediately running back into the house. It didn't matter that Noah was still in my head, demanding that I tell him what was going on. I startled the small calico cat awake with the sound of the door slamming shut, causing her to angrily meow at me.

“Shh!” I quietly told Lydia, reaching over to pull the curtains shut. I had barely drawn one set when I heard the front steps outside creak as something put its weight down on them. I immediately dropped down into a crouching position, my back pressed against the door. Lydia was smarter, trodding off back to my bedroom.

Staying as still and quiet as possible, I could just barely hear what was going on on the other side of the door. It sounded like wet rasping, intermixed with some clicking noise. If that was the sound of nails hitting wood, there was no way that was Folio in his Grim form.

The sound continued for several more minutes, pacing back and forth slowly. The sound would fade off, and I would think it was safe to get up until it paced the other way. I was getting lightheaded from holding my breath for long periods of time.

That’s when I heard a new sound: metal being disturbed. Was… whatever it is... stealing the offering plate?

I was so focused on listening for the sound again that the knock on my door nearly had me falling over. I couldn't help the yelp that slipped out. I froze, scared that it would alert the monster outside, but then a familiar voice piped up. “Taylor, it's me. Open the door,” Noah said.

I slowly stood up, heading towards the peep hole to check, when I heard the same voice say inside my head,

DO NOT OPEN THAT DOOR! THAT'S NOT ME!

The doorknob rattled vigorously, as if the thing heard Noah. I felt a small surge of pride at having the wherewithal to deadbolt the door when I ran in, but it quickly evaporated when the door violently shook in its frame. I backed away from it until there was a loud bang, as if it threw its body against it, and an unearthly shriek pierced my eardrums. I bolted for the bathroom.

FOLIO'S ALMOST THERE.

I shut and locked the door, and then clambered into the tub before drawing the shower curtain. I then curled up into a ball to wait it out.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours until I heard the sound of heavy paws beating against the forest floor, like someone was beating out a fast tempo on a kickdrum. Then, sounds of snarling and shrieking filled the air, causing a small sob of what was almost relief to escape me. Then, quiet.

“Taylor?”

I froze at what sounded like Nick Folio’s voice, calling out loud enough that I could hear him. "It's safe now. I'm coming in, alright?"

I climbed out of the bathtub and made my way out into the hall. It just so happened that at the same time, Folio was closing the front door behind him. Dark blood dropped from his lips onto the eagle tattooed on his chest, but I knew that he was the real Folio. Only occupants could come into my house.

I nearly tripped over my shaking legs, but I ran over to him and threw my arms around him. He answered in kind, holding me in comfort.

“I got it, don’t worry. It won't hurt you,” he said, smoothing my rumpled hair as if trying to soothe a wild animal. His nose then pressed to the shaved skin above my ear and I heard him sniffing.

"I was smoking before this happened," I admitted sheepishly.

“Obviously,” he said. He sounded a little disappointed.

That's when I heard the sound of trees being disturbed. “Go clean up,” I said, unwinding myself from Folio.

“Can do.” He patted my backside as he passed me to walk to the bathroom.

I pulled open the door and stepped onto the porch. Only the signs of the struggle were apparent. Nothing was broken, and the only things left behind were nail marks and small tufts of silvery-white fur, which I knew had belonged to Folio. He hadn’t looked raked, so it must not have caught his skin. Whatever the thing had been, there was no sign of it.

In the periphery of my vision, a tall shadow emerged from deep within the woods. As it got closer, it shrunk down to a somewhat normal size of a human. The branch-like antlers seemed to emerge from the treeline before his tattooed body did. It almost seemed like his arrival was accompanied by the sound of a cold wind skittering dead leaves across the ground.

“Jesus Christ,” Noah Sebastian, the Watcher of the Woods, swore. “What the hell did you go and do now?”

NOAH

It was something Noah hadn't seen in a long time.

Folio didn't leave it in one piece, but Noah could tell what it was just by looking at some of the bits. Almost white, hairless, a dried up husk. Its eyes were missing, but Noah knew it had already been like that. These things never had eyes, even back when he was under the old Watcher's control.

That was what worried him: the fact that this thing was here in the first place. He was wracking his brain over when he could have possibly left a corpse rot in the woods when he heard the front door of the house open. He dropped the pale thing to the ground and shifted into his more human form. Years later and he still felt the pain of his “bones snapping to fit inside a body half his actual size.

Taylor looked dead on their feet, and when he stepped onto the porch, they nearly collapsed against him. He steered them back in the house, forcing them to sit on the couch. He waited until they caught their breath to start interrogating.

“Tell me what happened,” he demanded. He knew a little bit from the panic that made Taylor practically throw the situation through the mental pipeline he had with everyone, but he couldn't actually see what happened through their eyes.

As they told him what happened, Noah listened intently. Normally, they had a relationship that bordered on squabbling siblings, but when it came to the safety of the woods and those he considered his “inner circle”, he was as serious as a heart attack.

As he began to ask a question, he heard the shower water turn off. “Do you still have that camera hooked up outside?”

“Yeah. I don't have the motion sensor notify me everytime, since you guys would wake me up at three in the morning,” Taylor said. They pulled out their phone.

“Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep,” Noah said. He saw their eyes roll.

Folio then came out of the bathroom, wearing sweats. He shook his head vigorously, sending water droplets flying. “Did you see what it was?” he asked.

“Yeah, what little you left.”

“Hey! I didn't eat the whole thing! That shit was nasty!” Folio protested.

Folio sometimes thought with his stomach rather than his head. It didn't help that Noah let him eat whatever he found sometimes, but that had to stop after he nearly ate Taylor the first time they went into the woods and got lost. It didn't prevent him from starving, though. Between some of the wild animals he'd catch, or whatever leftovers Nicholas would leave for him, he was eating pretty good. He was, after all, a twenty-five year- old stuck in a seventeen year-old body.

“There's still cookies on the offering plate,” Taylor mumbled as they scrolled through camera footage.

“Ooh, sweet!”

“Save some for Jolly!” Noah called over his shoulder as Folio bound for the front door.

Taylor's shoulders slumped a little bit. “Come here,” he sighed, wrapping a long arm around them and pulling them into his wide torso. He was catching onto their moods quicker. He noticed that they liked stability and normality after stuff like this happened.

And to think, he nearly killed them last year, too.

“Do you want one of us to stay with you until Nick gets home?” Noah asked. He felt them nod against his chest, leaving something wet behind. He sighed again, and kissed the top of their head.

“I'll stay,” Folio said, mouth full.

“The fuck did I just say?”

“I SAVED YOU AND JOLLY SOME!”

Noah heard a semi-hysterical giggle escape from Taylor. “Did you manage to find where the attack began?” he asked them.

Taylor held up their phone, and Noah pressed play. He watched as Taylor ran into the house, and a few moments later the thing slowly crawled onto the porch. He moved the phone, but Taylor grabbed his wrist and held him fast. They wanted to see the monster too.

From the angle the camera was at, it looked like a hairless dog with too long hind legs. It loped around on all fours, back and forth on the porch several times. After a few minutes, Folio in his Grim form popped into frame, causing Taylor to jump, and he clamped his jaws onto the creature.

“What is it?” Taylor asked.

“I called them Pale Things. They're what happens to people who die in the woods,” Noah said. “I haven't seen them since the old Watcher would leave bodies left and right.”

“D-Do you know how tall they are when they stand up?” Taylor asked.

Noah frowned at the odd question. “Why?” he asked.

“Because something was standing at the edge of the woods, and this… Pale Thing seems too small to be that.”

Noah recalled when they had woken him. “Are you anywhere near the house?” They had mistaken this thing for him? That seemed impossible.

So there might be something else out there.

“Call Nick. I'm gonna get Jolly and we'll look around for anything,” Noah said. He then took the tin foil packets from Folio. “If anything that's not us or Nick comes within a hundred-foot radius of this property, fuck it up.”

Folio grinned, making his sharp teeth more pronounced. “Abso-fuckin-lutely.”

Noah stood up, patting Taylor on the head in a way that he knew would annoy them. “Go back to sleep, Lil’ Rabbit. I'll be back with the sunrise.” He then walked out of the house that had once been his.

With every step he took towards the woods, he transformed into a more comfortable form. His body stretched and grew as vines and branches broke through his skin, wrapping around his arms and legs. Bark and moss formed over that as if mocking clothes, but would break at his joints with a loud cracking sound. As he disappeared past the treeline, melting in with the other trees, his skull broke free and melded together so he no longer move his jaw. But the antlers remained; in fact, they grew to impressive lengths.

To some, he was monstrous.

To him, he was The Watcher of the Woods.

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens rpf #bad omens au #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #nick folio fanfiction #paranormal au #series: lost in the labyrinth #fic: looking for the meaning

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mychoombatheroomba · 5 months

Text

Up Close and Personal

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 5

Leon has a day filled with revelations.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

The training was catching up to him.

Every day was harder than the last, every lesson delivered with the weight of hard truths. Leon’s body ached, and his mind . . . well, at least he had something else to focus on than the past.

It was easier when he was with you.

Both of you had seen a lot of each other over the last week, and not only because the two of you continued to train together most nights during off hours. Krauser had you come back to fight his squad again, and to no one’s surprise, you’d wiped the floor with all of them. Leon hadn’t lasted long against you, but you’d pulled him aside later and told him that he was faster than last time. Those little compliments were rare from you, but each time Leon received one, it was a balm to the long days of painful training. It wasn’t much, but he would take what little comfort he could get where he could find it. He never imagined he would find any of that comfort from you, the soldier who seemed unstoppable and cruel when he first met you.

He owed many of the bruises that covered his skin to you, but he owed you the victories he had managed to find against his fellow recruits as well. He owed you the little moments where he was sure that, despite not choosing this life, he was at least moving in the right direction with it.

He’d come to like you, despite your reserved demeanor. You didn’t need to be a summer friend he could share drinks and laughs with - however much he would appreciate that. Knowing that you were trying to help him was enough, however distant you could be.

It reminded him of . . . well, he didn’t like to think of who it reminded him of.

You and Ada were worlds apart, after all, and he wanted to keep it that way in his head. You weren’t some mysterious woman whose every emotion was kept hidden or turned into a weapon. You were stoic, yes, but you so often telegraphed how you were feeling without meaning to. He’d seen it when he would get just a little too close with a knife move, or when your comrades would say something across the lunch tables, and you’d roll your eyes. He saw it now, as he dragged his sore body towards the training yard, grateful for the evening sun being gentle with him after the long day he’d had.

He knew not to expect such gentleness in sparring with you.

You were waiting for him as you always were, spinning a knife in either hand, your eyes downcast until you heard his footsteps. You looked like you were listening to the bunkhouse radio, playing loud through the walls like it always did at this hour. Leon couldn’t tell if the displeased look on your face was because of the music or something else.

“Not a bluegrass fan?” he asked as he approached, and you just shrugged.

He could tell that you were just as tired as he was. Your eyes looked a little distant, and there were more than a few new bruises forming along your arms. The two of you were in a similar state, then.

“After a week of it, I just wish he'd pick a different radio station,” you said.

You were serious, Leon was sure of that, but that didn’t make it any less funny to him. He cracked a little smile. “So, what kind of music would you pick?”

The answer he got was a look of impatience. Ah well. He didn’t expect small talk, but he would try sometimes, anyway.

And just like that, the two of you fell into step. Knives moving against each other, hands rushing to block or usher the promise of death along its way. It was so different from fighting the undead of Raccoon City. He hadn’t dared to touch them, unless there was no other choice. Even when he’d gotten into the guts of the city and faced worse and worse abominations, he had never felt like there was any give and take to their exchanges. It was all a desperate scramble for survival on his part. With this . . .

Gravity seemed to falter as Leon realized you’d kicked one of his legs out from under him. He hit the ground hard, and only realized that you’d taken his knife from him when he went to counter your finishing move.

You stopped just short of his throat, but disappointment sunk into his flesh all the same. He’d gotten distracted. It wasn’t the first time, and that only made it worse.

He took the hand you offered, but avoided your eyes as you helped him up. It didn’t stop him from feeling them on him all the while.

Another exchange went by too quickly, and his mind felt like it was two steps behind. You moved in close and all he could think was get back get back get back get back and then he was met with steel against his belly.

He’d been getting better. You’d said so. He’d felt it. Why was this so difficult now?

By the look in your eye, Leon could tell that you were asking yourself the same thing.

“You didn’t train with knives before this, did you?” The question was just another blow to a pride that was already face down in the dirt. The only saving grace was that there was no judgment in your voice. You simply wanted to know. Even so, Leon frowned, finally looking back up at you as he shook his head.

“No.”

You didn’t seem surprised. “But you’ve been in fights with them before, haven’t you?” It wasn’t so much a question as an observation, and it took Leon aback. It was an odd assumption to make, especially considering you and he had spoken little of your pasts. In fact, you’d never asked about his past at all, until now.

And you sounded so sure of yourself. So certain that you knew what he’d been up against. No one knew. At least, no one beyond the Commanding Officers and the shadowy government agents that had overseen his recruitment. Once he’d arrived here, well, he had already been the odd one out, a cop in a squad of trained army soldiers. He didn’t want the attention of his past any more than he’d wanted to be forced into STRATCOM in the first place.

So, as you looked at him like you knew all the answers, Leon felt himself get a little angry.

“Not against knives, no.” It was more than he meant to give away, and as soon as he spoke it, he wanted to grab the words out of the air and bury them out back where no one would find them. He could only hope that you wouldn’t dig deeper.

And even if you didn’t ask, he could feel you pulling him apart and peering into him. It was something he hadn’t seen from you yet, he’d grown so used to the fire and ice of your fighting, but this? You looked at him like you understood, and it was comforting and terrifying all at once.

“Okay.” It was all you said before you held out your hand to him, palm towards the now darkening sky. You were asking for his knife, he realized.

“I can keep going-” he insisted, and you shook your head.

“We’re not done. I just want to try something different.” Soft wasn’t the right word for the way your voice sounded, then, but it was close. Closer than Leon ever thought to hear from you.

Maybe that was why he handed you the knife and felt some of his anger ebb away. You were trying to help him, he had to remember that.

You slid your own knife into your back pocket, and Leon almost regretted that trust he’d placed in you. Then, you reached for his hand, guiding him with a touch that was too careful for someone with perpetually bruised knuckles. You placed his own hand over yours - over the one that now held his knife. Leon could only look at you in confusion.

“What are-”

“You have to get used to being up close,” you said, “so I’m not going to give you anywhere else to be. I’ll go for you, and you redirect or block. Just don’t move your hand off of me.”

That confusion didn’t leave Leon’s face, but you didn’t budge.

“I’ll start slow, and we’ll go from there.”

And then you moved and gone was the striking speed he’d grown so familiar with. The knife came at his midsection in a stab, and with it moving so slow, Leon had more than enough time to step to the side, sliding his hand across your wrist to set up for a block. He looked up at you, seeking some confirmation that he was doing what you had in mind. You nodded, and then turned the blocked strike up and across, trying for a slash at his free arm.

It wasn’t a fight, not really. Even as you picked up the pace, even as you instructed him to add his other arm, or when you switched the knife to your other hand, Leon never felt that anxiety build in the back of his mind. All his focus was on you and the way you moved. You reminded him of water, each blocked strike flowing seamlessly into the next. And your face . . . he’d never seen you look so peaceful. Determined, yes, but peaceful.

The way you moved, the tranquil focus in your eyes, the slight smile that curved your mouth when you would switch up a move and Leon had to adjust to counter . . . it wasn’t the first time in the last few days that he’d thought of you as beautiful, but it was the most staggering.

He had to snap himself back into the moment in front of him when he saw the knife coming at his chest, still slower than your usual pace. Still, the sight was enough for him to know he had to move.

Your eyes and his both widened as he caged your arm against himself, twisting it a bit and moving his hand to the knife you held. When he wrenched the weapon free and brought it to your neck, you looked genuinely surprised. Then, Leon swore, that expression turned to pride. “There you go,” you breathed, and Leon released you with a smile.

Handing the knife back to you, Leon found that the fatigue he’d felt when you began was gone, along with the shadows in his head.

“Don’t look too proud,” you huffed, and Leon could tell by the lightness of your eyes that your annoyance was an act. Mostly. “Once you can do that at full speed-” you stopped, and Leon wasn’t sure what had caught your attention at first.

Then, he heard it.

Whoever it was in that bunkhouse listening to the radio had finally changed the station. Bluegrass was gone, replaced by the sound of a synth beat and a woman singing. A few women, Leon realized as his brows knit together.

“All I want from you is a promise you will be there-”

It was the sort of pop music Leon had heard a lot of in high school, or what his ex would put on when she was driving. Not at all what he would expect to hear on an army base. Not at all the sort of music he would imagine would make your eyes light up.

Leon only got a moment to wonder why the hell you looked happy to hear the Spice Girls come on the radio when the station was changed once more. When he saw the disappointment that followed your joy, he very seriously considered going and asking whatever officer was manning the radio to switch it back. The rock that Leon grew up listening to followed, but he didn’t much care.

“Not what I thought your music tastes would be.” He couldn’t stop himself from making the comment, thinking it was going to catch you off guard. He should have known better by now, he supposed.

“Why not? The Spice Girls kick ass.”

He wanted to laugh, but he held back because this was the first thing he’d learned about you that didn’t involve weapons or methods of killing people. And what a fact to know about the soldier that had been swinging knives at him day after day. So, he just held up his hands in surrender. “I guess you’d know better than I would.”

“You a rock kind of guy, then?” you asked, and Leon could hardly believe he was having this conversation with you.

“I like it, yeah.”

Your eyes narrowed, like you were reading the fine print across him. “Green Day? Or Nirvana?”

“Green Day,” he answered, not sure how he should feel that you’d been able to guess that about him.

You nodded. “They’re good, I’ll give you that.”

Leon had never been to Vegas, but he imagined this is what people there felt like when they hit a winning streak. The odds weren’t in their favor, but they had won this much. Why not press their luck and try for a bit more? “Better than the Spice Girls,” he said with a grin.

He was a little too pleased when you glared back at him. “We can go back to regular sparring, you know-”

“Alright, understood.”

He might have imagined it, but Leon could have sworn you grinned, then. “Come on. We’ve still got some time,” you said, spinning the knife in your hand before holding it out in a closed fist. Still, even if it was back to all business, your eyes were brighter than they were when you began.

For his part, Leon was glad to see you in a better mood, however confused he was by it. Curiosity had gotten him into trouble before, but he felt safer asking one final question of you before you began again. “So,” Leon asked as he put his hand over yours again, knees bending as he got into a ready stance. “Why the Spice Girls?”

Your mouth twitched, and it took you a moment to answer. Like you yourself were recalling the reason.

“Because sometimes you need some stupid music that just makes you happy.”

It wasn’t the answer he expected from you, but so little of your interactions with him today had been what he expected. You, in many ways, weren’t what he expected. Every day that was becoming more and more apparent. That was perhaps what had brought about the association with Ada. She had been a mystery to him, right until the very end. He would never get the chance to really understand her, now.

He didn’t want that to be the case with you.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” he began, once the two of you were done for the night, right before you had to head back to your respective barracks.

“Didn’t you just?”

“Did you just tell a joke?” Leon asked, not really believing it. You must have been in a good mood. He hoped he wasn’t about to ruin it.

“It’s been known to happen.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Don’t push it,” you warned, and Leon got the feeling it was light-hearted. “What’s your question?”

He had so many, but it was almost time for lights out and you didn’t seem to enjoy talking about yourself. So, he settled for the one that had been bothering him all night: “How’d you know? About me being in fights before?” If what happened in Raccoon City could be called fights at all.

You looked over at him, unsure. Not of his question, he got the feeling, but of how you were going to answer it.

Whatever debate was happening in your mind, there were a few heartbeats of silence before you spoke. “Because I was making the same mistakes when I got here.”

Leon was smart enough to understand what you meant, and it made his gut sink. You’d been in the Army. He didn’t know where you’d served or for how long, but you couldn’t have been much older than him. And if he was interpreting things correctly . . . he remembered the way your eyes had flashed when he’d tagged you with his knife that first day. It all made sense now, why you reacted the way you did, why you trained so hard. “I’m sorry,” Leon said. Sorry for bringing it up, sorry that he’d taken you back to a painful moment, but mostly, sorry that it happened to you in the first place.

You stared back at him, chewing on the inside of your lip. Your eyes were distant again, and it added a weight of guilt to Leon’s heart. Still, you swallowed down whatever it was you were feeling. “We’re both here now, right?”

Leon forced a smile, but it didn’t quite make it. “Right.” He didn’t want to be here. He hadn’t asked for this. Maybe you hadn’t, either. Still, standing in the training yard at night, his energy spent and the night ahead of him offering no peace, Leon found a slim silver lining to the situation: the two of you weren’t alone. “Thank you again,” he said, when it looked like you were about to leave. “For helping me.”

“Guess we’ll see how much I’ve been helping tomorrow. Krauser asked me to come in again.” You said it in a low voice, like it was a secret between friends.

“Thanks for the heads up,” Leon said, feeling something stir in his chest.

You just tilted your head and shrugged. Your way of saying don’t mention it. “Just try to act surprised.” Then you were heading off into the night, and that smile Leon had faked just moments before became genuine.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

A/N: I just like a scary military person who likes the Spice Girls, it brings me joy.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #jack krauser #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n

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ckret2 · 11 months

Text

The latest installment of "literally nobody is happy about Bill being the Mystery Shack's prisoner," chapter 8: Bill attempts to manipulate the humans with the only weapon he still has at his disposal: grossing them out. Also featuring: dramatic arguments with Ford, a surprise bath, and me trying my level best to convince you all that hair is the most disgusting substance in the universe, let me know how I do at that. Chapters one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven if you missed them.

A few days into summer vacation, just before dawn, Dipper and Mabel were woken by a series of thunderous crashes and pained screams, followed by Bill's piercing, maniacal laughter. They were armed and out the bedroom door in seconds.

Mabel said, "Who did he kill?!"

"I think he blew up a wall to escape—"

They skidded to a stop at the top of the attic stairs. Bill had tumbled halfway down, crashed into the wall where the stairs made a ninety degree turn, and was now sprawled upside-down on the steps, giggling.

Dipper lowered his weapon. "What."

"I ff—" Bill was interrupted by a wheeze of laughter. "I forgot how stairs work."

He spotted the kids—Dipper holding a metal claw hammer, Mabel holding a kitchen knife longer than her forearm—and abruptly stopped laughing. "Wow, you kids came ready to commit murder! Just waiting for the first excuse, huh?"

"Shut up." Dipper looked at Mabel. "Wanna go back to bed?"

"I think my blood is all adrenaline now."

Dipper sighed. "Yeah. Let's get breakfast, I guess."

They trudged down the stairs, shoulders pressed to the wall to stay as far from Bill as possible. As they passed Bill, Dipper muttered, "You could at least get out of the way."

Bill—who'd been about to gingerly sit up—lay back down and spread out across the landing. "Think I'd rather mildly inconvenience you!"

Mabel threw in, "And take a shower! You smell like an outhouse."

"That's my human-repellant forcefield."

The twins headed for the kitchen for a snack they could take out of the shack—and were blocked by Stan in the doorway. "Hold on. Don't go in there. You smell that?"

Dipper and Mabel sniffed the air, and grimaced. Mabel stuck out her tongue. Dipper said, "Ugh. We thought that was Bill, but it's worse down here."

"One of two things happened here," Stan said. "Either a squirrel and a raccoon fought to death under the fridge and started rotting; or the space demon cast some kind of stink curse. Personally, I'm hoping for dead wildlife. But until I find out, you two stay out of the kitchen."

There were several more crashes as Bill tumbled down the second half of the stairs, a groan, and a muttered, "What am I getting wrong?"

Stan rounded on Bill. "Hey! Demon. Don't suppose you happen to know why the kitchen smells..." He gestured vaguely, "like that."

Seated on the floor, Bill had been absorbed in prodding his limp left arm; but at the question, he looked up with a worryingly bright smile. "It just so happens I do!"

"Explain."

He twisted his left arm with his right, jammed it back into its proper position with a pop, and straightened himself up. "Funny thing—you know how I can't open doors? Because of the curse your brother put on me? Of course you do. Well—darnedest little quirk of human architecture—I don't know if you noticed, but it just so happens that all of the toilets in this house are behind doors!"

Stan's face blanched. "Oh no."

"At any given time, this body I'm in is freely secreting about half a dozen different bodily fluids—snot, spit, sweat, I could go on—and you humans are perfectly comfortable with that. But you think one bodily fluid is special and can only go in the special white bowl. Me, on the other hand—I'm an energy being that doesn't leak all day! Your fluids are all equal to me! I don't care about your special white bowls!"

Hotly, Stan said, "You're in my house—"

Immediately twice as angry and twice as loud as Stan, Bill said, "So if you think I'm going to lower myself to asking three times a day for permission to use a STUPID TOILET for YOUR COMFORT—"

And that was when they started screaming.

Dipper looked at Mabel. "Let's eat out."

Mabel nodded. "You know that burger place where Wendy gets breakfast—?"

"If we hurry, we can probably meet her there."

By the time they'd changed and come back downstairs, Ford had joined in the argument, Abuelita had set up a folding chair to watch it like a wrestling match, and the volume had doubled. (Bill: "BE GRATEFUL I USED THE SINK INSTEAD OF YOUR CEREAL BOXES! NEXT TIME I WON'T BE SO MERCIFUL!" Stan: "I'M GONNA INSTALL A DOOR KNOB ON THE KITCHEN FAUCET AND THEN YOU'LL NEED MY PERMISSION TO DRINK, YOU LITTLE—") Dipper and Mabel squeezed around the crowd, slid out the door, and biked into town.

They decided they'd just stay out the rest of the day.

They'd been doing that a lot lately.

####

When they made it home that evening, the first person they ran into was Soos, relocating a detached door. "Oh, hey dudes! Okay so, update on the Bill situation." Soos leaned the door against the wall. "We removed the door on the downstairs half bath and nailed up a curtain instead, so, now it's curse-accessible, but Bill can't lock himself in and do—" he wiggled his fingers, "secret Bill things. So. If you wanna use a bathroom with a real door, you've gotta go upstairs now."

Mabel considered that. "The bathroom with the tub still has a real door, right?"

"Yeah dudes, it's fine!"

Dipper said, "So... do we have a way to get him to shower...?"

Mabel said, "Yeah, whatever Bill's been doing in the kitchen sink—"

(Soos said, "And the trash can, it turns out.")

"—it hasn't included sponge baths, and it's getting obvious."

"And I'm not really comforted by his 'human-repellant forcefield' comment," Dipper added.

Mabel nodded. "I'd kinda like Bill to clean up before he gets as bad as Dipper last July."

"Hey."

Soos pointed toward the attic. "Ford's working on that right now." He whispered, "He's got a theory that Bill's just just too proud to ask for permission to use the facilities? So maybe if we ask him to take a shower, he'll go, 'oh, okay, I'm doing you guys a favor,' and then he'll agree to be let in and out of the bathroom."

Dipper grimaced. "I don't like the idea of begging him to shower."

"Uh... I'm fine with it." Soos shrugged. "Better smug than smelly."

####

"All right, Cipher."

Every time Ford came upstairs, Bill was curled up in the window seat, one side pressed against the glass. If it weren't for the crumpled jerky and granola bags and the empty energy drinks scattered beneath Bill's window seat—or the occasional downstairs argument—Ford would have suspected Bill hasn't budged in days. It made him nervous. There was an ice pack on Bill's left shoulder that had sat there so long it was completely melted.

"You got the bathroom you wanted. Now, would you take a shower?" Ford mustered up all his willpower as he prepared to mortify himself, and added, "Please."

It was important to note that Ford had spent his youth as the golden child; Stan had been disowned before his desire to please his parents had a chance to wilt and die; and Ford had barely seen Shermie's teen years. He'd spent his own adolescence isolated from his peers, and hadn't gotten to know any youths except Dipper and Mabel since then.

All of which was to say, the look Bill Cipher gave Ford, shocking in its ferocity, was utterly alien to him; but would have been familiar to millions of humans around the world.

It was the same look received by authoritarian parents whose tyranny had squeezed a little too tight, and whose offspring had realized they were grounded so severely they no longer had anything left to lose. It was the wrath of the defiant teenager.

And then the most pleasant smile snapped on Bill's face, quick as flicking a light switch. "What's in it for me?"

Ford blinked in disbelief. What needed to be in it for Bill? It was a shower. "Being... clean?"

"Eh."

Ford's shoulders sagged. "At least use deodorant?" he pled. "Change clothes? Brush your hair? Something?"

"No, no, absolutely not, aaand no. What's the matter, Stanford? I've been staying out of your way! You don't even see me up here. The stench can't be getting to you that much, so what do you care what I do to this body?" Bill's grin widened. "Guilt starting to set in? Must be hard to pretend you're a hospitable host rather than a kidnapper when your 'guest' is living in squalor—"

"Enough," Ford snapped. "So this is what, your way of protesting your own captivity? You have to realize how stupid this is."

"Buuut it's wooork-iiing," Bill said, a singsong lilt to his voice. "It's getting on your neee-eeerves."

"You're going to cause yourself problems in the long run! Diseases, infections—don't tell me I have to explain germ theory to you, you're smarter than that."

Bill scoffed. "I'm flattered you're so concerned about my health, but you can relax. I've been washing my hands and brushing my teeth like a good little potential disease vector. But you humans are so safe inside your modern fortresses with minimal carnivorous bugs and flesh-eating fungi—most of your hygiene expectations are cosmetic! I'm more willing to put up with itchy dandruff than you are to put up with the smell."

"Are you listening to yourself? This is—" Ford paused. "You've been brushing your teeth? Where did you get a toothbrush?"

"I've been using the dish brush and liquid dish soap in the kitchen." Bill laughed. "Wow, look at you—lecturing your prisoner on poor hygiene when you didn't give him any way to clean up! That's not a good look, pal."

Ford made a mental note to find a spare toothbrush for Bill. He flung his hands out in exasperation. "But—why put up with itchy dandruff at all? Why refuse to shower, of all things? And don't say to be annoying—you're cutting off your nose to spite your face!"

"Because cutting off my nose is the only bargaining chip I've got, and you know it."

Seeing expressions on Bill's face—smiles and scowls and smirks and sneers, mouth and tongue and cheeks and eyebrows—still felt wrong. No matter what expression Bill put on, it always felt to Ford like he was using his face to tell some sort of lie. But his eyes—Ford was familiar with Bill's eye, and doubling them didn't banish that familiarity. He knew this heavy, hard, emotionless look. It was the same look he'd seen just before Bill had shown him, through his own eye, the sight of his home dimension burning. Of all the looks he'd seen in Bill's eye—curved crescent with sadistic glee, literally red with fury—something about this heavy look chilled Ford the most. It was, somehow, the cruelest he'd ever seen Bill.

Bill got to his feet, wincing as he uncurled his hunched back. He stretched, spine cracking, as he sauntered lazily toward Ford. "Can I speak frankly with you, Sixer? I can't do a lot of tricks in this body. Heck, I'd try to tell you I don't have any tricks right now—but I'm sure you'd just say I'm lying to get your guard down, blah blah; so let's agree that, at least, I don't have the power to escape or kill you all, or I would have by now! This body—" he gestured grandly down at himself, "—as far as I'm concerned, is a dirty sticker stuck on the bottom of my shoe. It's trash. It's disposable. It's worth less than nothing to me. But it's all I've got at my disposal. So I'm going to be disgusting, until you start doing me favors to make me stop."

"Favors," Ford said. "And if we don't?"

Bill shrugged, hands raised. "Then I guess I'll keep being gross! But I cannot overemphasize just how little I care about your species's ideas about minimum hygiene standards, or how far I'm willing to go to irritate you all. This morning's hazmat crisis in the kitchen was just a warning shot. You will cave first."

As unnerving as that heavy look in Bill's eyes was, simply seeing it wasn't what rattled Ford. It was knowing that Bill could wear that cruel look while talking about committing quiet, passive violence on himself.

Bill stared Ford down for a moment; then apparently took Ford's silence for a small victory. "I want a drink strong enough to rot a bootlegger's guts, a hot meal that hasn't been cooked by Grandma Guilia Tofana down there, or—" Bill pointed toward the attic window that his curse prevented him from opening, "a breeze and some fresh air. I'm flexible. Let me know when you're ready to negotiate." He returned to his seat in the window. "I won't be far."

Giving Bill "a breeze" would obviously give him an escape route, and Bill was no doubt angling to accumulate tiny, "harmless" favors until he tricked the humans into doing something that would let him escape; but... Ford eyed the empty junk food bags on the floor. He tried to remember whether he'd seen Bill eat anything except for unrefrigerated factory-sealed snacks he could forage from the open kitchen shelves—or if the last fresh food Bill had tasted had been Abuelita's cyanide cooking.

Bill wanted Ford to pity him. That was what this whole charade was about. Ford hated that it was working. Not because of Bill's performative filthiness—but because Ford knew, too well, what it was like to be trapped, powerless, and hungry in an alien dimension; and because even when Bill was all but confessing he was trying to exploit Ford's pity, he was still trying so hard to pretend he wasn't afraid.

"I'll let you know what Stanley says."

Bill didn't turn away quite fast enough to hide his smile of triumph. "I'll be waiting." He settled back down into the same position he'd held for half a day and stared out at the night sky.

####

After several days in this body, Bill could definitively conclude that sleep was the worst part of being human.

Repeatedly blacking out and coming to, only to realize he couldn't remember anything for the past several hours. Usually he didn't even remember dreaming, even though he knew he must have dreamt for at least a couple hours. He hated not knowing what had been happening around his physical body for all that time, and he hated not knowing what he'd been doing in his dreams. Anything could have happened to him during those missing hours in the mindscape.

The few dreams he remembered were little comfort. Nightmares about dying, about faces and places he was galled to find out had been lodged in this human brain's subconscious—but the subject matter wasn't the important part. What mattered was that, while he was dreaming, he didn't know he was dreaming.

He didn't know how that was possible. He couldn't remember how the dreams started, what trick they must have pulled to persuade him that this was reality even though he couldn't remember what had happened five minutes earlier, or how they hypnotized him into unquestioningly playing along with their bizarre impossible Wonderland plot lines. Waking up was more terrifying than his nightmares, as he reoriented himself to reality and he had to grapple with how helplessly delusional he'd just been—and the knowledge that it would happen again, and again, and again.

Bill knew how human minds worked. He knew how humans dreamed. He'd been swimming through their dreams for millennia. This was normal for humans, and the knowledge that it was normal was the only thing keeping him from going mad with terror.

But the fact that it was normal for humans didn't mean it was normal for him. Because he was not human, and he hated blacking out for hours at a time, and he hated being so foggy-minded and vulnerable in the mindscape.

Most of his diet of the past few days consisted of energy drinks. His throat constantly blazed with heartburn. He needed a better solution—and maybe he could think of one once he got a decent meal or a drink that could help him sleep without dreaming.

He was hungry, he was tired, and he was weak.

####

But in spite of the caffeine, at some point Bill must have fallen asleep—because he woke up.

For once, he didn't wake from the searing heat of psychic fires.

He woke from the deadly chill of ice cold bath water.

"HELP!" Bill flailed, bashed both elbows and a heel against porcelain, and went under. He came up spluttering. "Mayday! Charybdis! Carpathia!"

The bathroom door slammed shut. From the other side, Stan shouted, "We considered your terms, and uh—we decided we're rejecting your demands, you get nothing, aaand you've gotta bathe."

Bill heaved himself out of the tub, flopped on the floor, and lay there wetly. Like a fish out of water, if the fish had given up the will to live. "Texq exmmbkba?"

"We dropped you in the tub," Ford said. "And we're going to do that every time your stench becomes intolerable, unless you bathe voluntarily. Is that clear?"

("What the heck language is he speaking now?" "Not a language. Caesar cipher." "You're tellin' me Cipher was Caesar, too?")

Bill coughed out a mouthful of water. "I'll drown myself."

"No you won't."

"I'd enjoy it. It'll be fun."

Ford hesitated. "Knowing you, you probably would. But you could only do it once."

"I'll slaughter you both."

Stan laughed. "Sure, if you ever reach us!" He jiggled the doorknob tauntingly.

Bill dragged himself across the floor and pounded on the door. He hollered, "I'll make meat linguine out of your skins with an orange peeler! I'll cook it in bone broth made by boiling your teeth!"

There was an awkward pause. Stan said, "I don't have teeth."

"You two are a loser who was only ever likable when you were pretending to be your brother and a puffed-up self-pitying nerd who never learned that no one's impressed by a child prodigy after age twenty-two! The biggest impact you'll ever have on each other is derailing each other's life dreams, and all your friends are worse off for knowing you! Your father died ashamed of you both and if he knew the truth about your lives he'd have been even more ashamed! Sherman has no positive memories of you, your obituaries will spell both your names wrong, and I'm going to feed your souls to an ouroboros that will repeatedly digest and defecate you for ten thousand years!"

After a couple more minutes of threats and insults, when Bill had to slow down to catch his breath, Ford calmly said, "Have you got that out of your system?"

A pause. "Think I'm good now." Bill slumped back to the floor, his cheek pressed to the cool, damp floorboards. "Okay. You win. Name your terms."

"You're not coming out of there until you've bathed," Ford said. "We'll let you out when you tell us you're clean. If you're not clean, we close the door again. If you want to sit there and sulk, then we'll leave, and once you're clean you'll have to wait until somebody feels like checking on you. Is that clear."

"Clear as crystal."

"Good. On the cabinet by the tub, you'll find a towel, washcloth, brush, comb, bar of soap, and shampoo. Are you familiar with how to use all of them."

"Sure! Course I am." Bill picked up the bar of soap, dipped it in the water, and experimentally rubbed it on his forearm. He pursed his lips dubiously at the results of this experiment. In a flash of brilliant inspiration, he peeled the cardboard box off of the soap bar. "How hard can it be?"

"Fine. There's a clean change of clothes next to the supplies. If you can get this over with in a timely manner, without wrecking the bathroom or wasting all the toiletries, we can talk about letting you choose a shampoo brand for next time."

Bill considered pointing out that that was a pretty stupid bribe to offer a creature who didn't have the slightest emotional attachment to organic toiletries; but then he remembered one of the cults he was affiliated with in New England made a shampoo line using its traumatized worshippers' tears, and he grudgingly decided he'd like to support them if he could. "You're enjoying this, aren't you."

"No." Ford was enjoying this.

"Gimme an hour. I've never done this start to finish before."

"Fine. We'll be back in sixty minutes."

Bill could hear the creak of the floorboards as the Pines left, and the fading sound of Stan's voice as he quietly asked, "Do you think what he said about Shermie..."

Yeah, Bill hoped that haunted him. He reached for the towel, and then jerked back his hand, startled, at the sight of another person in the bathroom.

"Oh." Bill experimentally waved a hand at the human, confirming that the strange alien staring at him was a mirror. "Hey, there." He stared glumly at the face he was trapped inside.

He'd never seen it before.

He was sure there used to be more mirrors in Ford's shack, but they must have been among the "potential weapons" the Pines had hidden away. Up until now, he'd kept imagining himself as a triangle. Some half-dead shape fraying golden curls around the edges, fused atop the rib cage of a humanoid puppet. Seeing the reality felt wrong, disorienting, like staring at an optical illusion but not being able to pick out how it worked.

He searched for any sign of himself in the face staring back at him. It was like trying to find something reminiscent of Chopin's piano Nocturnes in the shape of a lawnmower: a task so impossible it was unintelligible.

The only thing at all familiar was the color of the hair; not quite as bright as the dazzling electric gold of his true form, but still achingly similar.

Gold formed into lines—gold lines that bent and curled with acrobatic, contortionist flexibility.

"Well, whaddaya know," Bill sighed. "It only took a few dozen eons—but you finally grew up to look like your mother. Ha. Ha ha." The joke left a bitter taste behind his eye. (Eyes.) "Ekoj kcis a fo aedi ruoy siht si, Ltoloxa?"

The Axolotl didn't answer. Bill didn't expect him to.

He tossed the clean shirt over the mirror, discovered the bathroom had a second mirror, and took off the shirt he'd been wearing for almost a week to cover that one, too. He unpeeled the rest of his clothes, trying to avoid looking too close at the human body as he did—it seemed worse now than it had when he'd first gotten this body, with the image of that alien face seared into his memory, knowing he wasn't on this body but dissolved inside it.

Once he'd cleaned this body to the humans' satisfaction and gotten out of here, he could handle future hygiene issues by scrubbing off in the sink in his curtained bathroom downstairs. He'd only have to go through this indignity once.

So just get it over with. And use the time to think up new ways to irritate the humans into doing what he wanted.

####

He tried first bathing in the filled tub, until the cold water had him shivering so hard he couldn't properly coordinate his hands; then drained it and tried showering; and then filled it with warm water and attempted bathing again.

Most of him, he supposed, was clean enough for a human's tastes—any signs of peeling dead skin scrubbed off, no visible dirt, no noticeable smell but the smell of soap—but he doubted the hair would pass muster. It still had asphalt dust in it from almost a week ago, not to mention whatever his scalp had been shedding since then.

But, unfortunately, the hair was the worst part. He could scrub skin with no trouble; but when he was bathing, sunk down to his chin, trying to feel weightless again, the hair floated around him like a grotesque ghost, closing in. When he was showering, it dangled on his face, clinging to his skin, like it was trying to creep under his eyelid and down his throat and choke him. Just knowing it was there made his stomach turn; touching it made his throat burn as energy drink bile tried to escape his stomach.

Maybe if Bill brushed the tangles out first. That would knock out some of the dirt without him having to touch it himself. He sat on the edge of the tub, letting the growing tingling pain in his legs as his circulation was cut off distract him from the feeling of hair sticking to his cheeks and shoulders.

He tried to brush it out with his eyes shut, and his knuckles accidentally dragged across the filaments, wet, clammy, clingy. He yanked the brush free and felt hundreds of hairs jerking against their follicles. He forced himself to try again with his eyes open, holding the brush by the very tip of the handle. The bristles sank into the lumpen tangled mass of dead curling skin, and, as he tugged it down, slowly peeled the soggy strands of flesh apart—

His stomach hurt with the force of his retch. He clapped a hand over his mouth, dropped to his knees, and barely managed to get his dinner on the floor instead of on himself.

Voice a shaky, plaintive whine, he said, "Stop doing that to me." He shut his eyes, pressing his sweaty forehead to the cool rim of the bath tub. (Should he have aimed for the tub? Maybe the toilet? Were the humans going to get on his case for getting sick?) "It doesn't help," he hissed. "If I'm already neauseous, purging a load of bile does not help. It makes—it—worse. Why are humans built like this."

The Pines were tyrants. If he begged to be let out with his hair still grimy, the best he could hope for was mockery. Any pleas for mercy would cost him dearly. He wasn't getting out of here until he'd dealt with the hair.

He pulled the makeshift curtain aside on one of the mirrors. His vision was bleary from soap; the soggy hair draped in a loose, disheveled triangle shape around his head, like a mangled corpse. He shuddered and let the fabric drop.

A knock on the door. "It's been an hour, Cipher."

Ford. Bill rubbed his throat and hoped he didn't sound like he'd just been sick. "Gimme another hour."

"That's ridiculous. It takes less than ten minutes to shower, how could you possibly need two hours?"

"So I haven't had the practice at scrubbing skin folds that you have! Give me a break! How many hundreds of showers do you take a year? Do you know how hard it is to hold a bar of soap for more than half a second, or are you so used to it that you've forgotten these things are slippery?"

There was a pause. "You can't hold soap."

"My hands are small, Stanford."

"Fine. One more hour, but that's all you get."

"Fine, I don't care! If I'm not done in an hour, kick down the door and call the hygiene police on me." Bill was pretty sure you couldn't even get a call through to the hygiene police from this dimension. "Go away. I'm focusing."

Why had the Axolotl given him hair. Why hadn't he dumped Bill on Earth bald and balloon-smooth, let the patchy human fur patterns grow in over time? Why hadn't he at least given Bill less hair—why did it need to be so long—

But his hair didn't need to be long, did it? Bill didn't need to have hair at all. Hair was the easiest human body part to self-amputate, easier even than fingernails or ears. Inspired, Bill started searching the bathroom cabinet drawers—et voila. The Pines had no doubt removed any razors or scissors before leaving Bill in this bathroom, but he managed to find a bottle of hair removal cream. Probably courtesy of Question Mark's girlfriend. Cosmetic acid: one of humanity's many endearing little quirks. This would liquefy the roots of the hair, and Bill could get out of here.

It was easier to touch the hair when he was powered by rage, sliding his cream-coated fingers through the clingy filaments in service of burning it all away. The tingle on his scalp was a welcome distraction from the feeling of the hair itself, and feeling the tingle gradually blossom into a full blaze was a relief. Chemical burn. That was a luxurious pain—it tightened his lungs and squeezed rapturous tears from his eyes, so good he almost forgot there was another goal to this pain.

Maybe it would damage some of his follicles enough to prevent the hair from regrowing. Maybe he could wring some pity out of his captors—see this damage, isn't it hideous, look what you made me do—how long could he milk that? A few weeks?

He tolerated the burn as long as he thought he could get away with it without requiring hospitalization, then turned the shower on again. The ice cold water didn't wash the dead hair off fast enough. Some of it stuck to his skin; some was brittle, but not quite fully dissolved.

And that one, last, tiny inconvenience was more than he could stand.

The hair stuck to his chest, his arms, his hands as he ripped it off. Dead flesh, peeling apart and rotting, dead flesh all over him. He ran his hands over his head, fingers trembling with disgust, and tore out clumps of hair to fling to the ground. His eardrums boomed with his heartbeat. If there had been anyone else in the room he would have murdered them with his bare hands just to purge some rage. Over and over, desperate, obsessed, get it off get it off—

Until his head was so smooth that the pain of the chemical burns masked what few fibers were left. Until the icy shower left his skin so cold it hurt. He stepped out of the shower, triumphantly tore the shirt down from the mirror to see the results—and froze in horror.

When a cloud of gold hair had dangled down from his scalp, he'd looked like a triangle rotting apart—the corpse of Bill Cipher.

Now, he looked at his face, and he didn't see Bill Cipher at all. He'd destroyed the last of himself.

At his feet was a murder scene, all mangled golden gore.

####

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #bill goldilocks cipher

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crimson-calligraphyx · 2 months

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Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @lma1986 @chels3a-smile @kiwi475 @cookiesupplier @timid-raccoon

A/N: I've had this in my drafts for a month lol I'm so sorry.I hope y'all enjoy 🖤 Sexual content.

Early August. Third trimester; 35 weeks. My doctor told me to rest, but it's just not that simple when you own a bakery on Sunset Boulevard in LA, and it's the middle of the summer. Business was booming from summertime festivities, and there were orders that needed to be fulfilled before we closed early for the day—today was my baby shower.

I peered through the entryway from the back of the bakery, stealing a glance out the window. The sun beat down on the stream of passersby, adorned in shorts and sundresses, sunglasses and bright smiles on their faces as they soaked in the sun. I could only imagine how hot it was outside, and it made me oh so very thankful for the tree in our backyard, knowing I'd be spending the majority of the day out there for the shower. At least that way I'd have some shade.

I sighed and made my way back to my station in the back, picking up where I had left off. I twirled the flowering nail between my thumb and index finger, working on putting together yet another rose for a cake that a customer had ordered.

"So, you have any names picked out, Liv?" Juliana sidles up beside me, and I shake my head. "No, but we have a middle name. Nicholas." I tell her, a subtle smile spreading on my lips as I finished the last layer of the flower. I slide the rose onto the cake, adjusting it accordingly before turning my attention towards her cheery face. "That's Noah's best friend." "Aww," she breaks out into a smile that spread from ear to ear. "That's so sweet!" "Yeah," I let out a bashful chuckle, "but not as sweet as this damn cake. Look at how many flowers they want!"

We both glanced down at the dessert in front of me; the entire border was littered with roses, alternating between red, orange, and yellow. It wasn't the kindest on the eyes, but I was doing exactly what the customer had asked for.

"That's a lot of frosting," Jules laughs. I snort. "Tell me about it. It looks like a wall of fire." "Does it?" I nod, knowing she can't see the colors. "Oh! Check out the cake Holly made for your baby shower!" She enthusiastically waves me on towards where Holly was stationed.

I take a peek at what she was working on and grinned—it was beautiful from what I could see. She finishes the last dollop and places the piping bag down beside it, turning towards me with a sheepish grin on her face. "What do you think, Liv?" Holly asks in her timid voice, taking a step away from it for me to take a better look.

It truly was a work of art, and I was more than grateful for her effort. It was a single tiered 8-inch round cake, walled with a baby blue that melted into white all the way around. Intricate flowers skirted the bottom, elegant swirls crawling their way up the sides, meeting with a border of clouds. The cake read 'Oh boy!’ and settled on the top was a pair of blue booties, my heart immediately swelling at the sight of them.

"It's perfect, Holly. Thank you so much!" I threw my arms around her, bringing her in for a tight hug—well, as tight as my belly would allow. "I'm so glad you like it," she tells me quietly, but I can hear the smile laced in her tone. "I was so worried it wouldn't come out the way you envisioned. It's hard guessing what colors are what," she chuckles. "Thankfully I had some assistance with the booties." I pull away, placing my hands on her shoulders with a shake of my head. "It's better than I could've imagined. I almost don't want to eat it later today, but I think he wants it...so we're going to devour it," I laugh. She giggles and thanks me before packaging it up to be taken home.

Noah

"She is going to kill us," I muttered, one arm folded across my chest as I pinched the bridge of my nose with my opposite hand. "Why is the banner pink, and why does it say 'It's a Girl'?" "Well, they didn't have any 'It's a Boy' banners left," Folio shrugs. "But don't worry, we got a plan!" He perks up, a wide smile growing on his face. "Great," I grumbled with a roll of my eyes. I turn when there's a rattle behind me, being met with Nicholas shaking two cans of spray paint, a proud smile on his face. "Don't tell me you're gonna—" "Oh, yeah. That's exactly what I'm gonna do," he smirks, popping the cap off one of them.

With the banner pulled taut, I watched as Nick worked his magic, starting with the lighter shade of powder blue—Liv's mom must've helped pick out the colors. He traced what appeared to be a cloud around the word 'girl', slowly filling the area in and covering the word up completely. It looked a little tacky, but I was trusting the process, knowing how artistic my best friend is, and went back to assist Liv's mom and Victoria with finishing up the backyard.

After another half hour or so, we collectively stood as a group, Vic and I with our arms folded over our chests as we observed the scene before us. "Well? You think she'll like it?" I asked, a bit hesitant with the outcome.

All the streamers and balloons were hung, and all the favors were laid out in their designated areas. We had a table full of refreshments, and underneath our tree we had a large cutout of a hot air balloon—blue and white striped with bundles of white balloons to mimic clouds—acting as the backdrop for Bryan to take photos when Liv was to open her gifts. Nick finished painting the banner, and it seemed to compliment the theme of the party beautifully.

Vic shrugs, bouncing her head side to side as she contemplates. "I think she might throw a bitch fit over the banner, but other than that she'll—" "I love it." I spin around, and there was Olivia waddling her way through the slider door, her dress flowing by her ankles. "Even if the banner is fucked up," she laughs, shaking her head. I puffed out a sigh of relief, returning her smile, and began walking towards her. "Fuck off, Noah. She was mine first!" I'm practically shoved to the side as Vic brushes past me, engulfing Liv in a warm embrace with her mom following suit.

The guys laugh behind me, and all I do is shake my head with a light chuckle as I watched my wife reunite with her mom and best friend. My heart swelled at the sight; with a bright smile, Liv looked as beautiful as ever in her light blue dress, peppered in a floral design, and baby's breath tucked into the neat bun atop her head to match. Tears of joy sprung in their eyes as she cupped a hand under her belly, showing off the size of her bump. Her mom and Vic both gushed and placed a hand on her belly each, surely waiting for him to kick.

I let them have their moment, turning to greet Juliana and Holly as they came in through the gate. They brought in a cake from the bakery, which admittedly looked incredible, and I thanked them before placing it on the table with the rest of the food. After introducing them to the guys, I told them to help themselves to whatever they felt like, hoping to make them feel at home since this was their first time over.

It wasn't a big get-together and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, mingling about as Bryan clicked away on his camera to capture the day. We played games like baby trivia, guessing the baby's measurements, and guess who—which was sort of like this or that, but more so 'would mom or dad do that', and of course everyone was in favor of Liv, but it was all in good fun.

Before I knew it, it was time to open gifts, and with each and every one that was opened, the more this became real. Baby clothes, bottles, diapers, teething rings. A carseat, a tummy-time mat, a breast pump—which I had to snatch from Folio, who pulled it out and held it up against his chest and asked 'How does this work?' Everyone laughed, and I'm sure Bryan got a picture of it, but Christ I swear that man doesn't have a brain.

By the end of it all, my head was spinning. For such a small party, there were so many things gifted to us. Of course I was thankful for everything, and it was obvious the baby was already very much loved, but it just seemed like so much. Is he going to really need all these things? Was everything going to fit in the nursery? The clothes were so tiny, how is it possible for something to be so small?

Oh, God. We're a short five weeks away from Olivia giving birth. We're about to have a tiny human in our home. We still haven't finished painting the nursery or putting together the crib. Are we ready for this? Am I ready for this?

"Noah," I hear Liv call for me, and I shake my head clear before meeting her in our bedroom. "Could you help me take my shoes off?"

She sat at the edge of the bed, leaning back against her hands that were planted on the mattress. Her hair fell around her shoulders in messy waves, and her cheeks were flushed, indicating she had tried her best to take them off on her own, only for her belly to hinder her from doing so. Her dress had been lifted to the middle of her thighs, and I could see that her feet were swollen from where I stood. I knew she was embarrassed by the bashful smile playing on her lips and I crossed the short distance to join her.

"Sure, love." I grinned, cradling the back of her head to lay a kiss to her forehead before crouching down in front of her. I take her right leg in my hands and undo the strap around her ankle, carefully slipping the wedge from her foot. She sighs with relief; there was a deep indentation across the top of her foot and I frowned, knowing how hard I tried to convince her to wear flats instead. Her left foot was the same, if not a little bit more swollen.

I pressed my thumbs into the arch, slowly rolling up towards the ball of her foot, repeating this action a few times. A quiet moan slips out from her and I moved back to her right foot to do the same, her sounds music to my ears. As innocent as this was, it was going straight to my dick—her sounds, the proximity, her dress pulled up just enough for my mind to run rampant.

Slowly, my hands move up to her calf, my fingers kneading into the tense muscle. She sighs again and I bring her leg up to my lips, pressing them gently against her ankle. I inch my mouth further up her leg, my right hand sliding up and over her knee and landing on her inner thigh. "Noah," she giggles, "I only wanted you to take my shoes off." I lay one last kiss against her calf. "I know, sorry," I lower my hand, shaking my head. "I'll stop." Her legs start to separate, and I quirk an eyebrow at her as our eyes meet. She's biting her bottom lip and there's fire burning behind her oceanic eyes. "You don't have to," she tells me, maneuvering so that her leg was now out of my hold and over my shoulder.

She leans back on her elbows, spreading her legs further. Once again, my cock twitches in my pants seeing her on full display. I can't see her face clearly from the way her belly protrudes; I sit up on my knees to look at her and she winks at me. She presses her heel into my upper back, and I let out a breathy chuckle at her eagerness.

She assists in pulling her dress up further, settling it below her breasts. I grin, running my hands over her stomach before pressing a kiss against the bump and sinking back to my original position, hooking my fingers into the waistband of her panties. I begin to shimmy them down her legs, noticing that she's already starting to glisten with arousal. I smirk to myself.

I lay kisses on her legs once more, alternating between both thighs, inching up until I reach her mound and settle there for a moment or two. She's breathing heavier now, and I know she's buzzing from anticipation because of it.

Her hips rut towards me when I flick my tongue against her clit and take a moment to savor the way she tasted, licking a stripe through her folds. I palm her thighs, keeping her legs spread, and she squirms in my hold as I purposely avoid the sensitive bundle of nerves. I was being selfish, but God did she taste heavenly.

I spear her with my tongue, my nose running against her clit and she whines, her hands finding my hair. She knots her fingers at the roots, giving me a light tug, and a low growl slips from my throat from the sensation. She was telling me what she wanted without a single word, and I was going to give it to her.

I replace my tongue with a finger and a second shortly after, curling them leisurely, brushing against her spot ever-so-slightly as I coaxed a quiet moan from her. She begins to whisper my name, begging me for more, only to be cut off with a loud gasp when I brought my attention back to her clit. I massaged her with my tongue, meticulously tracing her in the way I knew that she loved. I thrusted my fingers inside of her, matching the speed of my tongue, and her hips start to lift, pressing herself further against my mouth.

I feel her walls beginning to clench around my fingers, and I groaned against her, wanting her to come undone. I needed her to, I needed to feel her release, taste her as she comes in my hand.

I encase her bud with my lips, lightly scratching my teeth against her before sucking, knowing this drove her nuts from the moan she always let out when I did. She tugs my hair once again, and a chuckle vibrates in my throat—I knew she was close. From her quickened breaths to the way she gyrated her hips against my mouth, it was only a matter of time.

With a final pull against her clit, her walls tighten around my fingers, pulsing as she comes on my hand. I groan, finding pleasure in the way her body quakes against me, savoring every last drop of her as if I were a man starved and this was the last meal on earth.

Her body relaxes, falling limp against the mattress. I pull her dress back down before standing, gazing down at Liv as she recoups. I grin; she was always so beautiful, even with her face flushed and her hair mussed, all the while panting with a satisfied curl tugging on her lips.

"Let's get you comfortable," I tell her after a few minutes, taking her hands in mine to bring her to her feet. "Wait," she giggles, dropping my hands and placing hers on my chest, looking up at me. "You don't want anything in return?" I shake my head 'no', grinning sheepishly. "No, love," I deny, my hands landing on her hips and giving her a firm squeeze. "I just wanted to make you feel good." Her cheeks tinted into a deeper shade of rose as she lets out a soft 'Oh'. I move my hands to her upper arms and give them a reassuring rub, kissing her forehead. "Arms up," I tell her gently.

She rolls her eyes, a playful pout on her face as she does as I instructed. I lift her dress up and over her head, dropping it on the floor before spinning her around to unclasp her bra and slipping it off her shoulders. She turns back towards me with a light smile and I reveled in the sight, from the glimmer in her eyes to the swell of her breasts and down to her belly.

She starts to cover herself with her arms; I knew how uncomfortable she was with her body now that she was eight months pregnant, but it was my goal to remind her just how beautiful she is. I cup her face with both hands, pressing my forehead against hers with a little shake of my head and locked my eyes with her iridescent blues.

"None of that," I whispered. "Stop trying to hide your body. You are still the most gorgeous woman to grace the earth whether you see it or not, okay?" I notice the tears starting to well in her eyes and she tries to blink them away. "I'm sorry," she says, barely audible. "Don't be sorry, love. It's my job to make you feel that you are." I lift my head from hers and brush her bangs back, kissing her forehead. "You. Are. Beautiful." I enunciate by kissing her nose and cheeks between each word. "Okay?" "Okay," she whispers, a strained giggle sounding from her.

I palm her belly, glancing down and admiring how my hand curved against it. She lays her hand atop of mine, and a smile breaks out across my face when I feel him kick. I bring my eyes back to Olivia's, and she had the same smile painted on her face.

"Let's get ready for bed, yeah?" I give her a kiss before retracting my hand and strip to my boxers. She takes my shirt from my hands and slips it on, giggling when it just barely covers her belly—my shirts used to land at the middle of her thighs beforehand. She finds a pair of shorts, lying down shortly after.

I lie down on my back, my right arm extended and patting my chest with my left hand. She wastes no time at all and shuffles closer to me, settling her leg on top of me while she rests her head on my chest. I press a kiss on the top of her head and wrap my arm around her, rubbing her shoulder lightly.

She sighs peacefully, nuzzling her face against me. "Thank you for today. Everything was beautiful." "Don't just thank me. Everyone chipped in," I tell her. "True. I guess if it weren't for Nick, we'd have had a banner that said 'It's a Girl!'," she giggles. "We have Jolly to thank for the food, Bryan for the pictures, Folio for the comedic relief." "Your mom and Vic for all the decorations, Jules and Holly for the cake. I really just made sure things were put in the right place," I shrugged my free shoulder. "Well, you all did great, and it's clear that baby is already so loved. So, thank you; all of you." "Anything for you, love."

In a matter of minutes, she was out cold. I grinned to myself, admiring the way she snoozed on top of me. Her jaw slack, the same strand of her mahogany hair that always got sucked into her mouth as she breathed, the subtle movement of her eyes shifting back and forth as she dreamed. I pressed another kiss on top of her head, sighing as I shut my eyes to try and catch some sleep.

It wasn't easy when your mind was on the fritz, mentally trying to figure out how this would all play out. Worrying if we had everything we needed—even though I'm sure we had more than enough—worrying if the room would be ready in time, worrying if we were both ready for this next step in life. Hell, we didn't even have a name picked out for him.

I don't think I'm getting any sleep tonight.

|Chapter 25|

#fanfic #fan fiction #noah sebastian #fanfic writing #quandary #romance #fantasy #bad omens fan fiction #noah sebastian fan fiction

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