#and if it’s daytime for you I hope you have a great day <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thisgirlnamedblusy · 1 month ago

Note

Hi, your writing is lovely and always make my day everyday :] can you please do this one if it's okay?

Donna visited the village to buy something and Angie ran off to play, stumbled on a village teacher (reader) who likes dolls but couldn't afford it when she was a kid, so instead of being scared of Angie, reader plays with her like she always does with the kids, her students.

Donna saw that and felt warm to see reader happily play with Angie, and she was too nervous to get Angie. Then reader and Donna met for the first time, and somehow it grows into a close relationship into a romantic one. But both stay in secret and only meet at nightime to avoid ugly rumors. They both don't like it to keep it a secret, especially Donna and it anxious her so much because she only meets reader briefly everyday.

Reader noticed the anxiety so one day she decided took the risk to visit on daytime but unfortunately, Donna is busy in her workshop, then reader made a surprise dinner with Angie help (ofc after she played with Angie (Angie demanded)) >:] and on the romantic dinner reader comfort Donna anxiety to ensure that she loves Donna as much and decided if Donna wants reader will visits more, to hell with rumors.

Also, ahem, if you're okay can you please close the romantic night with some steamy love making :3 TopReader and NO GP please :] (Donna needs to be loved more <3)

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your support and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))))

To teach how to love

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, village teacher! Reader

Warnings: smut, Minors DNI, fluff, insecurities, Donna being Donna

Word count: 8,715

Summary: To keep it in secret was a bad idea...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!

“Miss (Y/N), if the Black Gods protect us, why do we need that amosphere?” the innocent boy asked.

You had to make a great effort not to roll your eyes visibly. Well, you couldn't blame them for thinking that way.

“Mm, that's true, Chris; the Black Gods protect us, but so does nature,” you said with a smile, leaning on the desk. “Just think what would happen if the atmosphere didn't exist,” you explained, emphasizing the word correctly. “The Black Gods wouldn't have anything to protect, because we wouldn't exist.”

“My mother says that the Gods are powerful, but they can't do everything for us,” another girl intervened.

“Yes, exactly, that's what I mean,” you said pleased, to which the boy nodded slowly.

“What nonsense,” another boy said. “The Gods are Gods, they can do everything. Even if that thing didn't exist, we could live thanks to their protection.”

“Igor…” you sighed, shaking your head. “If there's no atmosphere, there's no life, no matter what the Gods do.”

“Yes, they'd probably get bored because there'd be no one to help,” said girl another, swinging her legs innocently. “Listen to the teacher.”

“Oh, okay…” the boy said, head down.

“Okay, if there are no more questions…” you said, looking at the clock again. “I think you're all looking forward to going home and…”

“Hey, you! I have a question!” a shrill voice caught your attention, making you frown. You certainly didn't recognize that voice, and that lack of manners.

You turned quickly, looking at the class, who froze, staring at one of the desks where a doll stood, a sinister, living one.

“Ahhh, it's Angie!” a little girl shouted, making the doll laugh.

“Boo!” the puppet shrieked, waving at the children, who screamed, fleeing the classroom in terror. “Run, run, I'm hungry!” the doll mocked, pretending to chase your students.

You approached slowly, not scared, but curious.

You were born in that place, in that village. You knew that your life wasn’t yours and that it never was. The Black Gods, the Lords, Mother Miranda… That inevitable darkness surrounded you for as long as you could remember, but you always knew how to adapt.

Your family was never blessed by the Gods, they never, despite being faithful devotees, obtained the grace of those deities. Always poor, humble but good-hearted, your parents survived as best they could.

You were never a special girl, apart from your obsession with reading and knowledge, things that your father saw as a waste of time, as something that would not contribute. Unfortunately, your parents left you before realizing they were wrong.

That desire to learn, to know everything, led you to, at the young age of 22, being chosen by the village as an important person, as the right girl for the younger ones to learn something about life.

Teaching became your passion, the only thing that made you smile in that world of shadows. Your students were the most important thing to you, and you did everything possible to make them forget, for a moment, the hopeless place they were in.

But that was a much more complicated task than making them understand that the Earth revolved around the sun, and not around the Black Gods. Luckily, education and culture were something that Mother Miranda valued enough to let you do your job in peace.

Idolized but respected, the Lords always stayed away from your work, you doubted they even knew of your existence. Of course, a living doll, belonging to the youngest, most mysterious Lord, Donna Beneviento, was a terrifying thing for those poor children. You couldn't blame them for running away.

“Angie?” you asked curiously, without any fear. No, that doll didn't generate fear or a survival instinct in you. You always found it curious. You saw in it a part of yourself that you thought you had forgotten.

However, seeing the puppet that close was something strange.

“Great Angie for you, silly,” the doll said, pointing at you disrespectfully.

“Yes, yes,” you murmured, approaching slowly. “Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked, taking the opportunity to observe that curious doll closely.

“Silly Donna came to the village to buy… Well, I don't remember what, but the fact is that I was bored and I looked out the window and what a coincidence, a bunch of children to scare appeared in front of me. I couldn't waste that opportunity,” Angie explained, speaking naturally.

That doll reminded you of other times, times when you admired those beautiful porcelain dolls that Lady Beneviento made.

“It's not right to scare children, Angie,” you said with a relaxed smile, with the same expression with which you educated your students.

“Oh, you dare to question me, commoner?” the doll mocked, climbing onto a table and putting her hands on her hips.

You couldn't help but laugh and shake your head.

“I would never think of that,” you sighed, watching with curiosity as the puppet climbed onto your desk, shuffling through your papers. “Hey, be careful with that.”

“So you're a teacher, huh?” Angie asked in the same mocking tone, looking at the books.

“Uh-huh,” you said nodding, trying not to let the doll mess everything up.

“Donna didn't like lessons, they said they were boring,” the puppet murmured, making you raise your eyebrows.

“Oh, really?” you asked, taking advantage of the situation. You were always curious about that dark lady in black. “She seems like a very cultured woman.”

“She is, stupid,” the puppet snapped at you. “She just didn't like her boring lessons. Are you boring too?”

“Me?” you said amused, pointing at yourself. “Well, I don't think so…”

“All teachers are boring… They give you homework…” the doll whispered with an amused tone.

“Well, not me, I prefer that the children enjoy their free time, if they have it,” you explained, crossing your arms, not the least bit scared by the doll's presence.

“Oooh,” Angie hummed, staring at you. “So you're not boring? Do you like to play?”

“The truth is that playing is how children learn best,” you said, tilting your head.

“Oh, oh, then play with me, silly,” Angie said excitedly, tugging at your dress. “Or are you lying to me and you're boring?”

“Mm, what do you want to play?” you asked amused.

Playing with a living doll… Well, that wasn't how you expected the day to go, but nostalgia and your maternal side prevailed over the terrifying logic.

“Hide and seek! I hide, you look for me,” the doll said, getting down from the desk with a sinister laugh. “Come on, silly, come on! The game has already started!”

You had a really fun time, playing look for that doll, with a smile on your face for seeing one of your childhood dreams come true, being able to play with dolls.

It seemed silly, it seemed like it really didn't matter, but for you it did, and a lot. Your family's poverty deprived you of those little fun moments, of having an inanimate companion who was always with you.

“Where are you?” you asked, amused, bending down to look for the puppet under the desks after a while of humiliating defeats. “Hey, you're good...”

“Of course I am!” the doll shouted, giving away her position.

“There you are!” you said, crawling under a table but freezing before getting up.

A black dress appeared in front of you like a silent intruder, one you hadn't seen. Your blood stopped as you looked up and saw the owner of that doll standing in front of you; the dark lady, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

“Oh, um...” you stammered nervously, standing quickly and hitting your head on the table clumsily. “Ow! L-Lady Beneviento,” you sighed, getting up in the most dignified way possible, rubbing your bruised head.

The lady didn’t say anything, she simply looked at you through her black veil. She looked like a ghost, she barely moved. What you were sure of was that her eyes were fixed on you.

“H-Hello…” you stammered, your face flushed with embarrassment. “Um…”

“Donna, Donna!” the doll shrieked, coming out of her hiding place and approaching the lady, who picked her up in her arms. “I’ve been playing with that fool.”

“Yes, um… She snuck into the classroom and…” you explained nervously. You had never had a Lord close. Seeing her in the village wasn’t something common.

“I'm sorry, she bothered you,” a hoarse voice came from behind the black veil, a dark, melodic voice, one you had never heard before.

“Hey! I never bother, silly Donna!” the doll protested, fidgeting in her arms.

“Taci,” the lady whispered in a barely audible voice.

“She's right, Lady Beneviento, we've, we've been playing,” you explained nervously, with a fake smile that hid the trembling of your body.

It was true that no one in the village knew that mysterious woman well but you had heard rumors and none especially good.

You knew she was dangerous, that her mind was sick, that anyone who dared to enter her territory would disappear forever. You prayed that the Gods would have mercy, so that you wouldn't suffer punishment for your audacity.

“Playing?” she asked, moving to control the overexcited doll, who was laughing amusedly.

“Yes, well…” you said with a sigh, moving away from that uncomfortable proximity. “I'm used to play with my students.”

“Mm,” she murmured, nodding slowly.

“Um…” you said, looking with your eyes for something to get out of that situation. You were unable to tell if you were in danger, and that scared you. “I-I…”

The lady remained silent again, slowly turning around and walking towards the exit with an elegant step.

“It was funny, silly!” Angie shrieked, leaning over her owner’s shoulder and waving her arm in farewell. “Hey, hey! What’s your name?”

“(Y/N),” you said pleasantly, sighing in relief because apparently, the danger had passed.

“See you, (Y/N)!” the doll said, before disappearing irremediably from your sight.

“See you,” you said with a smile, calming yourself down.

It had been a different day at least, the routine was very reluctant to abandon you, but it returned as soon as you left the school, starting the way back to your humble cabin.

A hot bath, a bit of reading… It all seemed tedious and boring but for you it was reassuring, it was the sign that the Black Gods had taken pity on you one more day. Your solitude wasn’t uncomfortable, it was rather a refuge.

Being surrounded by children was a striking contrast to the eternal silence of your home but you liked that contradiction. You couldn't imagine living any other way.

The next day seemed normal, it seemed that the difference from the day before, that little adventure with the Angie doll would simply be an exception in your life, but when the time to say goodbye to your students came, you realized that it wasn't like that.

The puppet returned with its insatiable desire to play with you. As long as there was no trace of its owner, everything was fine. That woman gave you the creeps.

Your encounters with the lady in black were brief and silent. Oh, sure, those visits had slowly become a new part of your routine. Sometimes you even went out later to see if the doll would show up.

A strange change in your life, but one you were grateful for. At least you wouldn't be alone for so long. At least you could play with a doll, something you could never do when you were a child.

“Today we played riddles,” explained Angie when her nervous owner appeared to pick her up.

It seemed that this new routine was not exactly pleasant for Lady Beneviento, but little by little, you got used to her presence.

“Yes, we tried, at least, don't be offended, but your doll is quite tricky,” you commented amused, with a cautious smile.

“Mm,” the lady in black murmured.

Since the first day the doll appeared, you hadn't heard a word from the lady again, something that didn't surprise you, but that made you slightly uncomfortable.

“Well, I think I deserve a break…” you sighed after a particularly hectic day. “The kids have worn me out.”

“Angie too!” the doll added, to which you nodded.

“Yes, you too,” you said amused.

“It seems you're good at dealing with children,” the lady in black commented, making you blink in confusion.

The black veil prevented you from seeing her face, from knowing if it was really her who had spoken.

“Yes, well… I, I like being a teacher,” you said with a somewhat broken voice as you picked up your bag.

“I hate teachers,” the woman said in a low tone that made you shiver.

“Oh, why is that?” you asked, letting curiosity get the better of you.

Donna shrugged, leaving her doll in the ground.

“You always think you know everything, don't you? That a child is an idiot who has to spend half its life doing stupid calculations,” the lady said, making you frown.

“Oh, well… I… I try not to be like that,” you said with a fearful whisper, putting your bag on your shoulders. “I don't force them to try harder than they can.”

“Mm,” she murmured, with an elegant pose. “Do you also hit children who don’t do their homework on time?”

“What? Of course I don’t,” you said, horrified by that insinuation. “Excuse me, Lady Beneviento but… Don’t say such things about me. I would never dream of laying a hand on a child.”

“Mm,” she murmured again, with a vague nod.

“Did you have a teacher like that?” you asked without thinking, wanting to know more about the lady's aversion to your profession.

“Mr. Hill. My parents hired him as a personal tutor when I was little,” she explained, pushing away the doll, which was impatiently tugging at her black dress. “Angie…”

“A personal tutor? That’s quite a luxury,” you commented with a false smile.

“No,” she said dryly. “It was torture.”

“Oh, I… I'm sorry, I'm sorry to hear that, my lady,” you said kindly, with an understanding face. “I try to make them learn by playing, so no child thinks learning is boring, do you understand?”

“Mm, you're different then,” she whispered turning on her heels, ready to leave, much to your relief.

“If it's a compliment… Thank you,” you said, sighing, following her closely out of the school. “Anyway, I think I'll go back home… Dorian Gray is waiting for me…”

The lady stopped, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye as she took the doll in her arms.

“Dorian Gray?” she asked suddenly. “Do you like Oscar Wilde?”

“Can you even read, silly?” Angie asked amused. You couldn't help but laugh.

“Of course I can read, I love to do it,” you said, stopping your steps next to the lady in black, who seemed to be looking at you with interest. “Although to tell the truth I have read that book hundreds of times, but I always have to imagine the ending.”

“What nonsense are you talking about?” Donna asked curiously, stopping a few steps ahead.

“W-Well I… The, the truth is that the book I have is… It’s not full,” you explained embarrassed. “It belonged to my parents and… Well, it was torn and I never knew the ending.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, Donna!” Angie interrupted. “You have that book at home!”

The lady sighed, trying to silence the doll.

“Mm, would you like to know the ending?” she asked, with a strange tremor in her hands.

You, confused, nodded.

“Come with me,” the lady whispered, turning again for you to follow her.

You walked in silence, crossing the forest, a part of the village that was completely unknown to you. Lady Beneviento's lands were dangerous and you knew it. Still, you were intrigued, following closely the black figure that apparently had not the slightest interest in you.

After walking for a while, the old estate rose before your eyes, with that imposing waterfall at its side.

Unwillingly, you wondered how long you could stay there, if you would ever return to your humble cabin. Rumors came back to your head; you knew that everyone who entered never left.

“Wait here,” the lady ordered you once inside the mansion, where your eyes were fixed on the cracks of the wood, on the darkness and sadness that emanated from that place.

“Wait here!” Angie shrieked, already on the floor, walking next to the lady.

You nodded slowly, looking around the room, stopping at the stairs, at that portrait hanging on the wall. It was a portrait of a really beautiful woman holding the irreverent Angie. The doll, that dress… It couldn't be anyone else, it was Donna, you were sure.

Why would such a beautiful woman cover herself? Why the black veil? Why is she so pretty? Stupid questions like that began to echo in your mind.

“Here,” the lady whispered, interrupting those ramblings and handing you a book that seemed new but at the same time old: The Portrait of Dorian Gray.

“Oh, wow, th-thank you, my lady, um, that's nice,” you said smiling and taking the book in your hands. “It wasn't necessary…”

“Think of it as compensation for distracting Angie,” she whispered, clasping her hands in front of her body.

“I don't need any compensation,” you said with a sincere smile. “I always wanted to play with dolls,” you said without thinking too much, letting yourself be carried away by those perfect pages, so different from your worn-out books.

When you realized, you looked up, your cheeks flushed by the childish and simple way in which that statement of your most private feelings was stated.

A strange laugh came out from the black veil, a shy and funny laugh that immediately caught your attention.

“Aren’t you old to play with dolls?” the lady asked amused, to which you scratched the back of your neck confused, thinking how to fix that mess.

“Yes, well…” you murmured. “I, the truth is that I could never do it.”

“Why?” she asked abruptly, something that even startled you.

“My, my parents never had money to buy me a doll,” you said with a sincere voice, closing the book and putting it under your arm, remembering difficult times. “We were quite poor.”

“Mm, I understand,” she said nodding slightly, with that same elegant pose.

“Yes, I… Um, well, it will be, it will be better if I go back home and…” you said, turning around and suddenly getting scared by a terrible thunder that shook the walls of the old mansion.

“What a scare, silly!” Angie mocked, laughing outrageously while you looked out the window at how the sky seemed furious, throwing a terrible curtain of water against the ground.

“Oh, wow…” you sighed angrily at having to walk in the rain. “Well, I hope I don't get too wet.”

“Wait,” the lady interrupted, roughly grabbing your wrist “Don't be stupid, if you go out now you'll ruin my book,” she said with a growl

“Yes, it's true, I…” you murmured nervously. “Um, I…”

“Stop babbling and come with me,” Donna told you, gesturing with her head for you to follow her. “I hope you like tea.”

“Tea? Oh, yes of course,” you said nodding with a polite smile, accompanying the lady in black.

The last thing you expected was to be having tea in silence with a Lord, with that Lord. The sound of the rain hit the windows as if it were inducing a conversation that took a long time to exist.

That was the first day of many more, of more visits to the Beneviento estate, to silent conversations, books, smiles…

It was an unspoken pact, visits that you made automatically, that she made automatically. Little by little, that cold relationship warmed up, turning into a close one, a strange one but one that you found pleasant.

Donna wasn’t like the rumors said. She was a dark woman, yes, disturbed but… She was a kind woman in her own way, polite, curious and terribly intelligent. That little friendship grew thanks to your moments of fun with Angie, thanks to Dorian Gray and that storm.

The visits were more and more frequent, your stays were longer and longer, even one night, one in which time seemed to pass faster than usual, you stayed to have dinner with her, she invited you to try her cooking, which was terribly good for a fearful Lord.

“Just for that he deserved to pass,” you commented amused, telling one of your hundreds of anecdotes with your students.

“Planet Miranda? It seems very bold,” the lady in black said, sipping discreetly from her wine glass. “Miranda is a Uranus’ moon, not a planet.”

“Yes, I know, that's why it's funny,” you said, looking down so as not to see directly the part of her face she uncovered. “The boy thought that if Mother Miranda was so powerful, she deserved a higher status than a simple moon.”

“I see,” she murmured, leaning back in her chair. “Children are amazing, aren't they?”

“Of course,” you said nodding, wiping yourself with a napkin. “They have an enviable imagination.”

“Mm,” the lady gestured, looking down. “My sister used to say that the stars were the Black Gods’ eyes, that you couldn't do anything wrong without their light giving you away.”

“Oh, I didn't know you had a…” you said frowning.

“She's dead,” Donna snapped, her voice harsh, slamming a tightly clenched fist on the table, forcing you to look down again.

“Oh, I'm, I'm sorry,” you said in a soft tone, regretting your words. “I didn't know.”

“It's not your fault,” she said, sighing, trying to reassure herself. “I hope dinner was to your liking.”

“Yes, it was delicious, my lady,” you said, glad to have changed the subject before her nerves, her problems, forced you to leave early. “I didn't know you could cook that well.”

“My mother taught me,” the lady commented, finishing her glass of wine. “She's dead too.”

“I'm, I'm sorry, my lady,” you said nervously, trying to get up, something that surprised your hostess. “I'd better get back home.”

“Are you leaving now? Don’t...? Don't you want to stay a bit longer?” she asked, abruptly getting up from the table, with an inquisitive tone.

“Stay, silly!” Angie demanded. “Let's play!”

“I would love to, Angie, but I have to go… Tomorrow is a school day,” you said in a kind tone, walking through the mansion towards your coat.

“Wait, please,” Donna said, approaching slowly with a voice that sounded almost desperate.

You didn't want to leave but it was true that you had to get up early. Her warm hand on your wrist made you stop dead and tremble. Your feelings had long been confused, feelings towards Donna Beneviento.

“My lady…” you sighed, letting yourself be caressed by that soft hand, letting your body turn with her grip.

“I have, I have something for you,” she murmured, motioning for Angie to bring something, something incredible.

The puppet appeared, jumping with what looked like a porcelain doll in her arms, a doll that Angie handed to the lady, who handed it to you.

“What…?” you asked, looking at that beautiful doll, the details of its clothes and the miniature book it was holding. “Wow…”

“It's you,” Donna said, pointing at the hair of the doll, which was identical to yours. “Y-You told me you'd never had a doll so…”

“Is it for me? Really?” you said excitedly, to which the lady nodded with that same shy laugh. “Oh, thank you, thank you…” you whispered, jumping on the floor and throwing yourself into Donna's arms, hugging her carelessly.

“Lasciami, lasciami,” the doll maker protested, pushing you away from her.

You obeyed smiling, nervous about what you had just done, even regretful.

“I'm sorry, I got emotional, my lady,” you said in an apologetic tone while she put on the veil that you messed up.

“Donna,” she said dryly.

“Donna,” you repeated bowing slightly, holding the doll firmly.

There was a moment of silence, one in which your breathing was dangerously agitated for no apparent reason.

“Ahem,” Donna was the one who interrupted that moment, that intense look between the two of you. “W-Well... Um... Did you like the end of the book?”

“Oh, the book, yes, yes of course,” you said nervously, looking unintentionally at the portrait on the wall, one that you always looked at, one you had been fantasizing about for some time. “It's a…Terrifying story....”

“What are you looking at?” she asked, apparently annoyed by your indiscreet gaze. “Do you think I'm like Dorian Gray?”

“No, no, I'm sorry, I just…” you said, apologizing, stepping back when the lady walked slowly towards you. “Besides, that portrait is beautiful and…”

“I'm afraid that reality differs from that book, (Y/N),” the lady whispered nervously, playing with her hands. “The monster doesn't reside in the painting, but in me.”

“But, but…” you stammered. “I don't think you're a monster, Donna.”

“That's because you haven't seen my face,” she said with a sad voice. “I didn't make a pact with the devil, but I have paid the consequences.”

“I, I would like to see it,” you said without thinking, undoubtedly attracted by this mysterious lady, putting your feelings in order, confessing to yourself that you liked her, that you felt something more than friendship, a truth that you had been hopelessly struggling with for some time.

“You wouldn't like it,” she said, lowering her head, tightly squeezing her hands together. “You would never want to come here again.”

“Wait, silly, I'll help you!” Angie interrupted, comically climbing up her owner and snatching the veil from her face, making her gasp nervously.

“Angie!” Donna shrieked furiously, turning around and trying to catch the puppet, without success. “Basta, Angie!”

You approached slowly, putting a hand on the shoulder of the woman with newly discovered black hair.

“Don't come closer,” she said, pulling away abruptly. “Don't look at me!”

“Donna, wait,” you said softly, moving away the hands that nervously covered her face, discovering her bright eye, the resemblance to the portrait, the injustice of that painting with her unmatched beauty.

A horrible scar occupied the right side of her face, but that wasn’t enough reason to turn away, to stop seeing that mysterious woman as the most beautiful woman you had ever met.

“Don’t… Don't look at me,” the lady sobbed, breaking away from your grip. “Per favore…”

“I couldn't stop looking at you,” you sighed, automatically bringing a hand to her cheek, letting your body act on its own, letting your heart recognize the love you felt for her, an unexpected, but inevitable love.

“(Y/N), I…” the doll maker murmured calmer due to your caresses. “I-I understand you're going to leave, that you're never coming back, but, but I want you to know that... That your caresses feel very... Very good,” she said, distracted by your fingers on her skin, as if she really was so nervous that she didn't know what to say.

You smiled tenderly, making real eye contact for the first time, with the sparkle in her eye matching yours.

“I like to caress you…” you whispered, getting closer and closer, letting a strange atmosphere envelop you before closing your eyes, getting even closer and brushing your lips against hers, which parted in surprise.

“I'd like to kiss you,” Donna whispered, with a marked accent, with her hands traveling to your waist. There were no dolls, there was no mansion. There was only Donna and you.

“I wish you would,” you whispered, finally placing your lips on hers, kissing the lady slowly, letting yourself be carried away by the sensation of her soft lips against yours in a slow, chaste and pure kiss.

The kiss lasted in time, remained almost frozen. The subtle movements of her lips caressed you, tickled your skin. There were no words, only silence interrupted by the slow and wet sound of those exploratory, curious and warm kisses.

Your heads turned, leaned, played at capturing your lips while your hand passed through her skin, through her hair. It was a shy and silent dance but... It was the best of your life.

The glances returned before your closed eyes again, eager for more kisses, for more caresses.

“Ugh, finally!” Angie shouted, interrupting the kiss that seemed infinite, making you separate slowly, without stopping to look at each other. “The tension was going to kill me.”

That was the first time you saw her beautiful smile, her lips curved upwards, her intense, seductive gaze… There was no doubt, you were madly in love with Donna Beneviento and, incredibly, she seemed to feel the same.

“(Y/N)… I…” she murmured, with a distracted look, pulling you even closer to her, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “Sono pazza di te”

“If, if that means you love me I… Donna, I… Me too,” you murmured, not resisting the temptation to kiss her, to feel those lips caressing yours again, exploring every inch of her skin, without fear, without knowing who she was or what could happen to you.

She wasn’t a Lord. She wasn’t a dangerous woman… She was Donna, simply Donna.

“This, this may seem old-fashioned to you but…” the lady said, moving away from your increasingly intense, wilder kisses. “I, I would like you to be… To be my girlfriend.”

“Donna,” you said with a wide smile, lifting her chin which the lady lowered in embarrassment. “Yes, I want to be…”

And so, after a while being something more than friends, something more than clueless lovers, your relationship began.

It wasn’t a relationship like the ones you had before. It had nothing to do with stupid, uneducated girls. No, Donna was very different from any past experience. She was tender, sweet, affectionate… Quite the opposite of the rumors.

Her shyness contrasted with the fear she generated in the villagers, but you found her adorable. Her kisses were tireless, the words, the whispers of love always bathed your ears, you couldn't escape them, but you couldn't do it either.

The moments, the dinners at the mansion were the best part of your life. The worst, without a doubt, was the moment of returning to your lonely and dark cabin.

Donna was a Lord, an unquestionable authority in the village. Everyone feared her, your students feared and respected her, the villagers trembled just by hearing her name. You, in some way, were also respected. You were the village teacher, the one who molded those little minds, the one who filled them with knowledge.

You were never a fan of unpleasant rumors, of the whispered comments of mothers during mass. That, together with an irrational fear of being discovered, made Donna and you hide your relationship, reducing it to brief moments, to discreet nocturnal escapades.

At first that was enough for both of you. Your love grew even in those brief moments, it didn’t fade. It remained strong and deep. Over time, that situation stopped being pleasant.

It stopped being an escape of your routine to become a small torture, a small taste of paradise that, every night, disappeared with the cruel sound of the clock.

“Hey, I'm not done,” you joked, settling on Donna's chest while you read together, after one of the endless romantic dinners she prepared for you.

“I'm sorry, tesoro,” the lady apologized, kissing your hair tenderly, turning to the previous page. “That’s my favorite part.”

“Mm, then you've already read it,” you said with a frown, looking up, wishing that her beautiful eye would match yours and that her smile would illuminate your darkness again.

“Maybe I did,” she said amused, moving your face to bring it closer to hers, to kiss you softly, a kiss that you didn't want to let go, that you kept until she had no choice but to let the book go so she could caress you.

“I love your kisses...” you whispered, running away from her affection in a playful way, running away from the shy laugh that came from her lips. “Donna…”

The clock, which had become your worst enemy, interrupted that endless session of kisses and caresses, making you slowly get up.

“I'm, I'm sorry, Donna, but it's late, I have to go,” you said with a sad look, kissing the back of her hand and getting up from the sofa.

“I hate it…” she hissed, with a dark look, pulling her hand away from yours abruptly. “I hate when you're leaving…”

“Oh, my love… I'm sorry, but it's just that…” you said, embarrassed by your haste, while you put on your coat. “It's, it's complicated.”

“Yes, it seems that way…” she whispered, shaking her head. “Will you come back?”

“Of course I'll come back, my love…” you said with a sincere smile, calming with a caress the trembling of her hands, one that was becoming more and more frequent when you left. “Donna, calm down…”

“One day you won't and… You'll kill me…” she whispered nervously, breathing with difficulty. “You, you won't come back…”

“Hey, shhh, my love… Breathe, calm down… Don’t, don't do that,” you said nervously, holding her wrists, which were going straight to pull her hair. “A-Angie…”

“I'm coming!” the doll said, suddenly jumping onto the sofa and calming the lady, who was moving around with a lost look. “Hey, Donna, let her go, she has to go.”

“No, no, no…” the lady repeated, grabbing your wrists, digging her nails painfully into your skin. “Don't leave me…”

“Shhh, Donna, I'm not going to leave you,” you said softly, breaking free from her grip. “Honey… My love…”

“Leave now, (Y/N), I'll take care of this,” Angie said, pointing to the door with her hand. “Donna, silly Donna, look at me, look at me.”

With your heart wounded, you finally left the mansion. The situation was certainly starting to get too complicated. The brunette's crises were getting more intense, more dangerous. Her fear of losing you was growing little by little with each night you left. You would have to rethink many things...

“Have you read it yet, Katia?” you asked the next day, in one of your classes, receiving the book from a girl. “It's a complicated read.”

“Yes,” the girl said smiling. “But it's very sad.”

“Mm, well, Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy,” you commented, putting the book away in a drawer. “I'm sure you have many questions.”

“I don't understand why they couldn't be together,” the curious girl said, making you pay attention to her. “Okay, the families hated each other but... It's just that if they could have been together they wouldn't have died...”

“Yes, you're right,” you said amused, crossing your arms.

“You know what, Miss? If someone loved me as much as Romeo, I wouldn't care what they said,” the girl commented, making you raise your eyebrows. “Love is the most important thing of all, isn't it?”

That innocent phrase from such a little girl penetrated your mind intensely, making you remember each of the moments you spent with Donna, each of her kisses, her words of love.

That girl was right. Love was the only thing that mattered. Donna's crises were getting worse and her anxiety was unbearable for her. There was no point in making her suffer, making her believe that you wanted to abandon her every night because of what the villagers would say.

Let them say whatever they wanted. You loved each other and that was what was really important, besides, who would dare to question a Lord?

“Katia, you've made me think,” you said nodding, slowly getting up. “Children! Class is over now!”

Of course, your students responded to your words with shouts of joy, as they left the classroom with you.

Visiting your girlfriend during the day was a refreshing novelty. You wanted to tell her so many things, to apologize for the fear of being discovered, to tell her that you would like to love her every day, every hour…

“Donna?” you asked as you entered the dark mansion, looking for the lady with a smile, while you bit your lip. “Honey, it's me…”

“What are you doing here at this hour?” Angie asked, appearing in the hallway.

“Oh, hi,” you said bending down to affectionately caress the doll, who laughed amusedly. “I've come to see Donna, I have to talk to her, where is she?”

“Donna? Oh, well…” the puppet murmured, with an exaggerated thoughtful look. “She's in the workshop, working on her dolls.”

“How is she?” you asked in a lower tone. “Were you able to deal with her… Crisis?”

“Sure, that's a piece of cake for me,” Angie said, proudly. “Do you want me to take you to her?”

“Wait, wait, on second thought… Donna concentrates a lot when she works, doesn't she?” you said, with a new idea in your mind.

“Oh, yes…” the doll murmured amused. “There could be an earthquake and she wouldn't notice.”

“Mm,” you murmured thoughtfully. “I have an idea, but I need your help.”

“My help? Do I look like I want to help you?” Angie mocked, with her hands comically on her hips.

“I don't know, do you want to help me?” you asked curiously, searching your head for the best way to execute your plan.

“That depends, silly…” Angie said, acting interesting. “It depends on how much you want to play with me.”

“I'll play with you as always, Angie,” you said amused. “Even more if you help me.”

“Oh, hide-and-seek marathon?” the puppet asked, jumping for joy. “I warn you that I never get tired.”

“I already know that, but you have to help me,” you said satisfied with the answer. “I thought that since Donna is busy with her dolls… Well, I could prepare a surprise dinner for her, what do you think?”

“Do you even know how to cook?” she asked in a mocking tone.

You rolled your eyes, motioning for her to lower her voice.

“Of course I know, and very well, in fact,” you said proudly. “Do you think Donna will like the surprise?”

“Why don't you ask her?”

“Because it's… A surprise,” you whispered, laughing, with a tender look.

“Of course, it's true…” Angie sighed. “Silly cheesy girl…”

“Will you help me?” you asked, clasping your hands together with a pleading look.

“Mm… Okay,” the doll finally said, walking away from you.

“That easy?” you asked, confused by the puppet's receptive attitude.

“No, no, not easy at all…” she mocked. “It's your turn to count, silly! The game begins!”

“But, but…” you said, stammering. “I have a lot of things to do and…”

“Oh, rejection, huh?” Angie mocked, approaching a hallway. “Donna, the silly has come and says that…!”

You ran towards her nervously.

“Shh, hey, shut up,” you said, kicking the ground in protest. “Don't shout.”

“Then play, silly teacher… My help has a price,” the doll demanded of you, with a petulant pose.

“Okay…” you sighed, defeated.

You couldn't say how many hours you spent playing with the doll. It was true that you enjoyed spending time with Angie, that the feeling of childhood was rekindled when you laughed and played with her, but on that occasion your eyes always went to the clock, unlike on your other visits.

Luckily, Angie seemed to take pity on you, finally guiding you to the kitchen, where you began to prepare that surprise discreetly. The kitchen was in the basement and that was risky, you didn't know if Donna would show up.

Angie kept her end of the deal, leaving you alone to distract her owner from the aroma that started to come from the old kitchen.

“The candles…” you said when you were finally finished, placing everything perfectly on the table, waiting for the lady to appear. “There, what do you think?”

“Cheesy…” Angie murmured, staring mesmerized at the flame you lit.

“Well, then it's perfect,” you said winking at the doll, who shook her head with a tired grunt.

“Angie!” a furious scream came from the dark hallway, along with the hurried sound of heels on wood. Donna. “Angie, (Y/N) hasn't come, I told you she would leave me!” she shrieked furiously, walking towards the living room.

The lady entered quickly and after a furious gasp she looked up, seeing you standing by the table, with a tender smile.

“(Y/N)…” the brunette sighed, blinking confused. “What are you…? What?”

“Hi, honey… Surprise,” you said amused, approaching the lady to kiss her quickly and gently push her by the waist. “Do you like it?”

“What is this?” she asked, shaking her head and gaping at you as you helped her sit down. “I-I thought you weren't coming…”

“I've actually been here since this afternoon,” you said amused. “I was going to tell you but it occurred to me that it was much better to prepare a romantic surprise dinner for you…”

“A romantic dinner? For me?” the lady said smiling innocently, admiring every detail you put on the table. “Did you cook it?”

“Of course,” you said proudly, serving her a glass of wine. “I wanted to talk to you, Donna and, well, I took the opportunity to give you a surprise.”

“This is wonderful, (Y/N)… Gods… I love you,” she said, excited like you had never seen her before. “Um, what…? What do you want to talk about?”

“Shhh, let's have dinner first, it's going to get cold…” you sighed romantically, winking at her.

It didn't matter how many times you had dinner with her, each one was different, terribly romantic, but that night… That night there was something different in the atmosphere, something you wanted to tell her, something important.

“It was delicious, amore mio…” the lady sighed, wiping herself with a napkin, without letting your hand go. “It was an incredible surprise.”

“Thank you, darling,” you said pleased, caressing her hand, staring at her with your gaze. “Donna, I have something to tell you.”

“Oh, yes, certo… T-Tell me what you wanted to talk about, tesoro,” she said visibly nervous because of the apparent seriousness of your words.

“I've been thinking and… Well, I wanted to tell you that it hurts me too to leave,” you said stammering unintentionally, playing with your glass of wine. “I enjoy being with you very much, I love you and… And I think I've been stupid.”

“You're not stupid. I'm the one who has to apologize. You see, it's just that… I've never been in love and… Well, I'm afraid of losing you, that's why it hurts me so much when you're leaving.”

“I know,” you said in an understanding tone.

“I behaved terribly with you yesterday, I scared you and I'm sorry,” she said, head down, playing with her sweaty hands. “I understand that you have your reasons for wanting to hide what we have.”

“No, listen to me Donna, that's precisely what I want to tell you, I...” you whispered, fixing her gaze again, interrupting her absurd apologies. “I don't want to be vulgar but... Screw the rumors.”

Donna was surprised by your comment and laughed tenderly but confusedly.

“What do you mean, tesoro?”

“Well, I mean... I don't care what they say, I want to spend a lot more time with you and, I don't know, I could, I could even stay one night to sleep and...”

“Or every night,” she said, interrupting you with a cold look, blinking erratically.

“Well, I...” you stammered, surprised by the proposal, one for which you already had an answer.

“Come, I want to dance,” she said, excited, standing up and gently taking your hand.

“Oh, how chivalrous,” you said blushing, letting yourself be carried away by her grip. She smiled, kissing you slowly and pulling you towards the middle of the room.

“I can't be any other way, tesoro... You drive me crazy...” the lady whispered, gently grabbing your waist. “Angie, put on some music, will you?”

The doll obeyed grumbling, and your bodies began to dance to the sound of a soft and romantic melody.

Your smiles were sincere. Your eyes were full of love. For the first time your eyes forgot about the time, about the clock, they only looked at hers, your hands were not hurried, but slowly enjoyed her caresses, the romantic dance of your bodies together, a dance that you didn't want to end.

That damn clock struck the hour, forcing you to slowly separate. The music had stopped playing for a while.

“I-I guess you'll have to go,” Donna whispered, playing with your hands, her eye sad.

“No, not tonight, my love… Tonight I want… I want to stay with you,” you whispered, kissing her cheek. “If it's okay with you…”

“Do you want to sleep with me? I mean, do you want to stay with me tonight? In my bed?” she asked nervously, trying to control her language.

“Yes,” you said seductively, taking her hand. “Lead me, darling…”

Slowly, silently, you went down to the bedroom with the lady in black who, apparently, seemed nervous. You could understand why, but you didn't want to ask her.

“It looks comfortable,” you said, pointing at the bed, making the trembling brunette look at the piece of furniture out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh yes, it is, it is comfortable,” Donna said confused as you sat down, hitting the mattress with your hand. “Um, (Y/N)…” she said without looking at you, sitting next to you. “I, I…”

“What's wrong, my love? You're shaking,” you said with a soft voice, fixing her hair and guiding her face so she looked at you.

“I, I would like… I would like… Oh, cazzo…” she stammered, bringing her hand to her eye, embarrassed by the clumsiness of her words. “(Y/N), I…”

“Do you want to make love, darling?” you asked with a seductive voice, already an expert in interpreting her gestures. “I would love to…”

“Yes,” she said with a slight movement of her head. “But I…I have never, never…”

“Shhh, that doesn't matter, Donna…” you said, taking her hands, calming her trembling with your caresses. “If that's what you want…”

“Yes, it's what I want,” the lady said, as if she was forcing herself to recognize that desire, the one that had never run through your bodies during your short visits.

“Then lie down, my Donna…” you whispered, pushing the lady against the mattress as you climbed up her body.

The kisses changed. Your body danced on top of hers as you refused to leave her lips. Her hands soon joined those rhythmic and trembling movements. The sighs came from her lips, impregnating yours with a repressed and fearful desire that deepened the kisses, the caresses...

“Donna...” you whispered as you changed your target, kissing her neck softly but intensely, engraving your teeth on her skin while your hand went down her chest, tracing the perfect shape of her clothed body.

“(Y/N), I, I love you,” she said, unsure, watching how your hands enjoyed the softness of her skin, how your impatient fingers untied one by one the buttons of her dress under her fearful gaze.

“Me too, my love...” you whispered, sinking back into her lips, distracting the brunette's worries with your insatiable kisses, with the wet contact of your tongue on hers while your indecent hand ran over her chest, removing the horrible black fabric that hid her beauty.

Her hands were chaste, respectful, content to caress your face, your back, not wanting to desecrate what was sacred to her, not wanting to become a hot mess, like you already were.

The sleeves disappeared from her arms at the same time as your dress slid off your shoulders. Her bare skin reacted to the caresses of your fingers as your palms brushed against her covered breasts.

The dance of your bodies continued slowly, your ardent hips swinging, causing confused gasps from the lady, satisfied moans from your lips, which refused to leave hers.

Finally the softness of her hands reached your chest, the fear of touching you disappeared with each caress on your body, with each response from your eager skin. Her eye was fixed on each part you discovered, on your breasts uncovered with a quick movement, just like hers.

The skin-to-skin contact was increasingly intense. The clothes stopped being a barrier. They slowly disappeared among kisses, whispers and caresses. The brunette's nails ran down your back while your lips went down her neck, down her collarbone, kissing every inch of pale skin in their path.

She panted nervously, but also excited by your movements, you could feel the erratic dance of her hips demanding more contact with yours, an obscene and hot contact that increased more and more.

Your mouth continued its sinful journey. Your hands played with the black skirt, moving it out of your way while you caressed her legs, while you dug your nails into her skin and your lips slowly sucked one of her nipples.

Donna moaned for the first time, pleased by that gentle treatment, by those sweet lips that rested on that intimate place. You smiled without stopping to adore her body, going down a little more, just a little more.

The clothes disappeared completely and on top of the bed there were only two naked bodies dancing tirelessly, wet and hot. The gasps and moans pushed away the whispers, the glances.

Your fingers went down her belly, caressing the wetness of her folds, causing a strong tug on your hair.

“You are perfect, Donna,” you said as you slowly stimulated her clit while playing with the wetness you had caused. She was unique, so perfect, so beautiful…

“(Y/N)…” she moaned, when the circles of your fingers intensified, when your laughter was muffled in contact with the skin of her lower belly and the kisses became tireless sinners, kissing her wetness, joining your tongue to the movement of your naughty fingers.

Donna moaned, surely blushing, embarrassed by what you were doing to the most private parts of her body. You simply enjoyed her wetness, the taste of her arousal, licking, going over every inch of her sex in a calm, quiet, but intense way.

Your fingers stopped playing, moving closer to her entrance, surrounding it while your tongue played tirelessly, kissing everything it could, getting more and more moans from the brunette, who seemed to let herself go.

“Perfect…” you whispered before pulling away with one last wet kiss, going up to her lips, letting her moan in embarrassment as she tasted herself on yours while the tips of your fingers began their feat.

“Tesoro,” the brunette moaned, scratching your back as she felt you enter her, how your fingers made their way between her wet walls, how her hips moved uncontrollably, motivated by the contact. “It so… So good…”

Your body moved envious of the lady's pleasure, your kisses bit absorbing her skin while your fingers continued, taking away Donna's shame, making her enjoy in an increasingly scandalous way. The screams were not long in coming, her body tensing without warning, wetting your fingers even more, feeling her tighten around them in a sudden and embarrassing orgasm.

None of that mattered to you, only the pleasure, the pleasure of your bodies dancing together and naked with the friction of the wetness you caused, stimulating your own desire.

Donna wasn’t stupid. She knew what she was doing. Following your instructions she managed to take you to the top of paradise. There was no clumsiness, only safety, only desire, only a wet mix of moans, obscene kisses and continuous rubbing.

“(Y/N),” she murmured, exhausted, letting herself fall completely on the bed, caressing your head, which now resided on her chest.

You looked at her with a grateful smile for that unmatched passion and closed your eyes.

“Mm?” you murmured, comfortable in her embrace, sleepy.

“I want, I want you to live with me… I want you to never leave again…” she said with a broken voice, her grip on your hair increasing in strength.

“Mm, I think it's not such a bad idea…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #oneshot #re8 donna #re8 village #requests

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nanamikentoseyebags · 1 year ago

Text

I know i'm home

for everyone the scars on his body showed that for all his immense power, he was still human. for him they were an agonizing reminder that he would never let it happen again.

pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

content: just his little inner satoru finally finds peace, warmth and home, hurt/comfort, fluff

a/n: i've been thinking a whole lot about little satoru lately, here's the result of my reflections lol, hope you enjoy <3

The quiet, velvety night slowly descended to the earth, spreading out an endless blanket of dark sky, sprinkled with a myriad of shimmering stars, inviting the full pale moon to slumber upon it until daybreak. A light summer breeze penetrated into your shared bedroom through the slightly open window, filling every corner of it with a pleasant freshness while gently, as if by the hand of a lover, brushing the loose strands away from your face. The barely audible murmur of the leaves, intertwined with the lulling buzzing of night insects and the occasional trill of birds, produced melodies that any composer would have envied. You stood there barefoot, in his oversized T-shirt that reached your knees, leaning your arms on the windowsill and curiously observing the nature, engulfed in a captivity of a tranquil slumber. It was miraculous how, in this hectic and violent world, there were still such peaceful nights, reserved for the two of you.

You pulled away from the window, gently adjusting the thin floral curtain he'd hung so eagerly, almost on the verge of falling, a few days ago. Listening to the tinkling sound of running water, you tiptoed toward the bathroom, the door of which was slightly ajar. The moments of simple domestic intimacy were so rare yet so precious that his five-minute absence felt like hours of unbearable torture, while the desire to peek through that little gap and catch a glimpse of the dearest silhouette grew with each passing second. You reached the door gingerly, and, squinting slightly in hopes that you wouldn't make a loud noise, you pulled it toward you, widening the viewing angle and quietly peeking in.

Your face met the pleasant warm humidity. The lamps glimmered brightly, illuminating the white tiled walls, little pearl-like droplets still dripping down as if chasing one another in an unspoken game. Satoru was standing with his back turned to you, exposing his broad shoulders and strong back with his birthmarks scattered all across it as if he was a canvas and they were the drops of paint, placed there by the hand of a great master. His snow-white hair, sparkling in the light, shimmered in an array of colors, creating a subtle glow all around him. The misted surface of the mirror revealed the imprints of his large palm, which had rid of the unwanted shroud a few minutes ago, giving him a glimpse of his reflection. His left hand rested on the edge of the basin while the other firmly gripped the razor, moving expertly across his porcelain, now covered in a layer of shaving foam, skin.

Satoru remained concentrated, turning his head deftly and delicately wielding his razor blade. His celestial blue eyes were fixed on his own reflection, while his thoughts were elsewhere. Surrounded by an unusual silence, punctuated only by the gentle whisper of flowing water, he still heard far more than any human ear could. For Satoru, the quietest night, so silent and soundless to everyone, turned into a cacophony of noisy daytime sounds.

He diligently tried to keep the annoying thoughts and noises away from him, striving to mentally return to the pleasant moments of complete tranquility with you. He put all the unnecessary shaving items into the cabinet and bent down, rinsing off the rest of the foam and sending it down the drain along with his dark thoughts. Then he straightened, taking a quick glance at his face reflected in the smooth surface of the mirror and reached for the towel, as his gaze, surprisingly even for him, lingered a little longer on the scar, hidden behind the damp snowy strands that fell on his forehead, and then slowly moved to his neck, eyes flickering worryingly under the blinding light of the bright lamps. He cautiously, as if he were afraid of himself, brought his hand to his neck, tracing the damaged skin with his fingertips and swallowing heavily. He reluctantly lowered his gaze to his chest, staring with revulsion at the vertical scar that so distinctly marked his pale skin.

He shook his head a few times, as if driving away the ghosts of his past, and nestled his head into the soft cloth of the terry towel, gently removing the residue of water from his face. Finally, he lifted his head and flinched slightly, meeting your gaze in the reflection.

"Spying on me?" he immediately turned around, in a moment replacing his startled grimace with his usual wide grin.

"Me? Never," you smiled sheepishly, not expecting to be caught red-handed, and opened the door wider, taking a couple of timid steps in his direction.

"I thought you were already in bed, you little liar," Satoru smirked boyishly, holding out his arms and inviting you into his warm embrace.

"I couldn't sleep without you, so I thought I'd see what you were doing here without me," you teased, wrapping your arms around his strong body and gently stroking his back.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, nothing to make you feel neglected," he joked, sounding as confident as possible, but his eyes brimmed with all the colors of unrestrained sadness.

You slapped his back playfully, bursting into hearty laughter and burying your nose into his naked chest. His strong arms encircled your waist, pulling you even tighter against him as his lips left a light kiss on your head. Your palm slowly caressed his silky skin, tracing intricate patterns with your fingertips, feeling the hundreds of goosebumps running all over his body. You smiled, your index finger now drawing a small heart just where his heart was beating beneath it. Satoru shook his head, laughing softly and rolling his eyes, "You're so cheesy," but you could still feel his slender, long fingers leaving little hearts on every millimeter of your skin for several minutes now. You smiled blissfully, allowing yourself to melt into his tender embrace, forgetting time and plans, feeling only the comfort of his warmth enveloping you from head to toe and his heart beating right under your cheek.

You gently touched his deep scar, like a scorched mark resting on his flawless, soft-white skin. Satoru's breath hitched as he shuddered at the sudden sensation.

"Does it hurt?" a soft whisper, coming from your lips and fanning his chest with your hot breath, reached his ears.

"Of course not, silly, it has long since healed," he looked at you perplexedly, his eyebrows drawn into a thin line.

"No, does it hurt?" you stressed the last word, lifting your head and gazing into his wide-open hypnotic orbits, hoping that he would understand what you implied in that question.

His lips quivered, and his eyes flickered frantically over your face, trying to figure out if he should voice what had been languishing inside for so long. Small but obvious wrinkles appeared on his forehead, giving his face an even more baffled expression.

"Yeah...' he forcefully uttered the answer that was stuck in his throat, 'sometimes I feel his knife going through me all over again…,' his hand slowly covered yours, stroking your knuckles.

"Right...," you whispered, intertwining your fingers with his and squeezing his hand lightly, in hopes of showing that you could understand him.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm a kid again and I relive all this stuff over and over again, isn't that silly?" he chuckled sadly, hiding his eyes, in which you could notice snippets of the suffering he had seen throughout his life. It seemed as if, as he uttered these words, he indeed turned into a little boy, only the mischievous smile that everyone around him was so used to seeing had now faded, and his eyes no longer burned with such a vibrant light.

"It's not stupid at all," you lovingly brushed his hair away from his forehead, gently stroking his cheekbone, "I wish I was there to protect you from everything," you admitted sincerely.

"You know I would have done anything to prevent that," Satoru gently took your hand, leaving an appreciative kiss on your palm.

You nodded, knowing it was useless to argue with him, just hugged him a little tighter, while gently caressing his tense back muscles. You knew how hard he was trying not to reveal his true emotions to you, to keep cool, but it was his hands that were nervously rubbing the fabric of yours, or rather his T-shirt, and the ragged breathing that caused his chest heave so anxiously that made it all abundantly clear.

"I often wonder what that little boy I once used to be would have said to me after knowing how much pain and death those eyes had seen, what he would have thought when he saw that with every step I took there were bloody footprints on the ground, stretching endlessly behind me, how he would have felt when he noticed those scars, evidence that I had let it happen to him" he continued after a pause, burying his nose in your hair.

"He would have been proud of you," you uttered quietly, "after finding out what you had learned and what else those magic eyes could do, he would have admired seeing what your body, now adorned with a pair of battle marks, was capable of, he would have thanked you when he realized how many people you had saved. And he thanks you now for the way you protect him, because he still lives in you."

Satoru fell silent, holding his breath, heeding every single word that he felt was healing his wounds, kissing all the pain away. He closed his eyes, trying to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes, and exhaled softly.

You caressed his side reassuringly, leaving a kiss on his shoulder, "I just know little Satoru feels safe now."

"Yeah, with you, little Satoru feels at home.”

***

The silent, dark night was replaced by a bright morning, filled with the peals of the birds, causing the sleeping moon to give way to the brilliant sun, illuminating the soft features of Satoru, who had fell asleep on your chest, with its gentle golden rays. The warm blanket he had so carefully wrapped you in before you went to sleep almost slid to the floor, his arm lazily wrapped around your waist while your legs were entwined, preventing you from moving. You smiled earnestly, fingertips stroking his soft skin and once again covering his body with little hearts, while your lips were leaving little kisses here and there. Your heart was full, realizing with its every beat that your whole world was encased in this one person. You lay there quietly, staring at his slightly fluttering white lashes and hoping that in one of the parallel universes you had somehow met sooner, and both little Satoru and little you knew no worries, faithfully carrying your love through life, holding tightly to each other with your intertwined pinkies.

thank you for reading, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated! <3

art and dividers are not mine <3

tags: @shamelessperfectionhideout @afortoru @keiskyutie @vagabond-umlaut @4sat0ruu @softsatoru @mitsuyeaah @playgrl0 @moonsinfonia @a-nuisance-called-sam @gojoshooter

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #satoru gojou #jjk satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x gn!reader #gojo x yn #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo satoru fluff #satoru angst #i needed this after the mess gege caused today #so this is extremely self-indulgent

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kayhi808 · 6 months ago

Text

They Met in Delacroix - Part 2

Life works in mysterious ways. You followed some loser thousands of miles across the country only to be dumped and left with nothing & no one. This was not the life you envisioned for yourself. Tonight you're in the arms of the Winter Soldier, flirting and dancing under the stars of a cloudless Louisiana sky. Who would have predicted this? Not you.

You've never had this much fun. Laughed this hard. Or felt so welcome & included as you did today with Sarah & her family. And Bucky. You finally had to throw in the towel & pull Bucky off the dancefloor. "I can't remember when I've had this much fun," grabbing a bottle of water & taking a long drink, "Or danced this much! You're a very good dancer, Sargeant Barnes."

Leaning in, "it helps when i have the best partner."

"Smooth," you laugh.

"You like that?"

"No," you dead pan. His smile slides off his face & replaced by his scowl, which makes you laugh harder. "No, you made me feel like Cinderella. It's like I've run away to the ball."

"Did I, princess?"

You smile & nod, "But...I really need to go or else I'll turn into a pumpkin."

"What? Why? It's still early!"

"I've got an hour drive back home & I work a breakfast shift tomorrow."

Groaning, "Okkayyy." You laugh at him & he smiles. He unlocks & hands you his phone. "So you don't have to leave me your shoe." You gladly enter your number, already hoping he'll contact you.

You say your farewell to Sarah & the family and Bucky walks you to your truck. A bunch of cars have left, so you'll be able to maneuver your truck out of there. Buck open your door for you & gives you a quick kiss on the cheek. "Drive safe & let me know you got home ok." He shoots off a quick text & you hear the chime from your bag. "That's me."

"G'night Bucky."

******

The days pass & you and Bucky start texting each other. The notifications from your phone puts a smile on your face knowing it's Bucky.

Wednesday morning comes around and you help set up the restaurant for the day, since you have the morning shifts. You're still new, so you get stuck with the day shifts & not the very lucrative evenings. You'll get there. You can't really complain, it's for a high end restaurant, so daytime tips are better than a lot of places. You look up and find Sarah making her usual delivery, but Bucky trails in behind her carrying the coolers. He gives you a wink as he navigates the kitchen. You smile, but hurry back out into the dining room to get out of their way & to try & get control of your emotions. He's just too handsome. You distract yourself by wiping down the tables before opening, when Bucky walks over.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"I was wondering if you'd be working this morning."

You nod, "I usually work breakfast/lunch shifts."

Bucky nods, 'Nice."

"Yeah."

Sarah hurries out of the kitchen, already having completed her transaction. "If you're going to ask her out, hurry up! We still have 3 more deliveries to make. Move it!" She smiles & sticks her tongue out at you as she passes, jogging outside to prep for the next delivery.

Bucky throws his hands up in the air, "Come on!" He looks back at you & his cheeks are tinged pink. He gives you a crooked smile. "So about that," rubbing the back of his neck with his Vibranium hand.

"Yes, I'd like that very much."

Bucky laughs, placing his hands on his hips, "That wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. You'd want to go out with me?"

"Mmhmm."

"Ok, great. I'll call you later & we can work out the details."

Sarah leans on her horn, "BARNES!!"

"For the love of God!" He glares out at Sarah in her truck while you laugh. He turns back to you, "I gotta go." He leans in to kiss your cheek, "I'll call you later, princess." He dashes outside & you can see Sarah heckling him.

*****

It was decided that Bucky would drive up to New Orleans. There wasn't much to do in Delacroix besides fishing. You didn't live in the nicest neighborhood. When your ex broke up with you, you were left with literally nothing. You lived at his place, he supported you. You had to use up all your savings to secure a deposit & first months rent for this little studio walk-up and your used truck. You especially didn't want Bucky to see how & where you lived. It was embarrassing.

You threw your denim jacket over your yellow floral sundress & headed out to meet Bucky. You agreed to meet for lunch in Jackson Square at The Gumbo Shop.

As you cross the street to the cafe, you already see Bucky leaning against the side of the building. He's early. He gives you a single wave & straightens up as you run up to meet him. "I'm sorry! I hope you weren't waiting long."

"No, I was early. You're fine." He holds you at arm's length, "Don't you look like a ray of sunshine."

Looking down at your dress, "Too bright."

"You look stunning." He grabs your hand & leads you inside.

*****

Bucky is so attentive all through lunch. He has a way of getting you talking about yourself, and you end up telling your story. "So, this guy leaves you with nothing? Doesn't even offer to help you get back home?"

"It's not like we were married, I couldn't demand 'half'." Shaking your head, "I didn't really have much back in California. I don't have family. It was cheaper to stay here & make things work." You can feel the anger rolling off Bucky in waves. Reaching across the table you grab his hand. He notices you don't even flinch that its his Vibranium hand. "You're very sweet to be outraged on my behalf."

"That's not how you treat someone. Especially someone who uprooted their life to follow you across the country. Things don't work out, I get it, but still."

"Lesson learned, right?" trying to make light of the situation. "Besides, if I didn't get stranded, would we be having the best gumbo EVER?" Bucky is still glaring. "Or would I have gotten to play Cinderella & dance under the stars with an Avenger?" That brings a blush and a small laugh out of him. You shrug and laugh, "It may have been worth it. I'd do it again."

"I'm sorry that happened to you." He said it with so much sincerity, it almost makes you cry.

"Thank you, Bucky."

"C'mon, lets get outta here." Bucky pulls you out of your chair to wrap his arms around you, and dropping a kiss at your temple.

You spend the rest of the afternoon wandering around the Sculpture Gardens by the museum eating gelato & talking about everything under the sun.

As you were curled up in bed that night, texting Bucky good night, you go over the events of the day & it was truly the best date you'd ever been on. Maybe after experiencing such turmoil with your ex, you deserved this little bit of happiness. You realized you were speaking the truth earlier. You'd go through all that again knowing you'll have this time with Bucky to enjoy.

@mcira

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff

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foxaftershocks · 6 months ago

Note

Hello I love your writing and I fell in love with Lars (First Egon and Ray what can I say I love men with nerdy glasses and are smart)

I was thinking that the reader could be friends with a ghost that they captured. After everyone leave she talks to her about Lars. She talks to her how Lars and her are close friends but sometimes it is so hard to tell if he likes her too. The ghost comes up with the idea to process the reader and every night she will tell the reader what happens in the daytime. Like the ghost makes the reader flirtier and touchier but also tries to make Lars jealous. Which confuses but also flusters Lars because he does like this type of attention the reader is all of a sudden giving him. Finally the ghost does something that the reader would never do and Lars figured out she is processed but just waits until the reader actually gets the courage to make a move on him. He obviously is his sarcastic self but softens and can actually reciprocate his feelings for her.

I hope this made sense. I like the idea of a ghost wingman but Lars is too smart to not figure it out. Man would probably figure it out in like 2-3 days haha.

This made total sense. I actually had a lot of fun writing this one. I hope you enjoy it!

“I dunno, maybe I’m just making it all up in my head.”

You were sitting on the ground in front of the enclosure, finger drawing meaningless patterns on the floor in front of you. You couldn’t even look at your friend in the face, scared to admit it. Having the glass between you softened it a bit, the embarrassment contained if it’s behind some kind of barrier.

“I don’t think so. I think he just needs a push,” Jessie said from behind the glass.

You probably shouldn’t be confiding in one of the ghosts the lab had under observation. No doubt Lars would tell you off if he knew. Not that you ever would. Especially given what you were talking about.

“Yeah well, I’m not about to do that. What if he laughs in my face?” you said, “he won’t even be my friend anymore.”

“Or maybe he’ll grab you and kiss you,” she suggested.

“I can’t risk it,” you said, finally looking up to her.

A smile began to stretch over her face, pretty, like the kind of woman who would never be in this kind of relationship. You bet that if Jessie had a crush on one of her friends she would go after him. She had that kind of confidence. You weren’t sure any guy had ever not been interested in her.

“I have an idea,” she said.

“Should I be worried?” you asked, feeling dread already curdling in your stomach.

“No, no, it’s really good,” she said, “how about during the day I’m in control of you and then at night I can tell you everything that happened? If he doesn’t already, he’ll definitely like you by the time I’m done.”

“No, he’ll like you. This is such a bad idea,” you said.

“It’s a great idea,” she said, “give it a shot. If it doesn’t work then we can stop.”

“I don’t know,” you said, not wanting to admit just how desperate you were.

“One day. If you hate it we don’t have to do it again,” she said.

You thought it over. Lars would probably kill you if he ever found out. Winston might even fire you if it was revealed. It was a bad idea. It was such a bad idea.

“Okay,” you whispered.

👻👻👻👻👻

Lars was humming under his breath as he walked towards your bench. You were sitting there, spinning in your chair as you looked up at the ceiling. There was a smile on your face, a giggle falling from your lips like a child. He paused a moment, watching you. Something was different. You looked lighter, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened overnight.

“You look happy,” he said, dropping the notebook that was in his hands in front of you.

You looked up at him, your wide smile turning into a smirk, almost predatory. He felt warmth full his body as your eyes swept up and down his body, lingering in places he knew weren’t appropriate to look at in the workplace. And yet he liked it. He liked it a lot.

“Well hello, handsome,” you practically purred.

He’d never heard you speak like that. He looked down at you, curious, one eyebrow asking in a silent question. You lent towards him, fingers grazing over the cuff of his shirt, fluttering your eyelashes.

“You’re in a mood today,” he said.

“A good one after seeing your face,” you replied.

“Alright, well, I’ve got the observations from last night in there so give it a read and stick it in the datafile,” he said, nodding down at the notebook.

“Is that the only thing something is getting stuck in?” you asked.

“What?”

He had no idea what was going on.

“No other data?” you asked, “why? What did you think I meant?”

He blinked, then settled into a smile. It must have been in his head, the way you’d given him a heated look as you asked, the innuendo in your words heavy on your tongue. He shook his head.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said.

He left you there, acutely aware you were watching him as he walked away. Something was different, something in the air making it heavier, making it thicker. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing the way you were looking at him. His cheeks heated and he wished he knew what was going on in your head. It had never been like this before.

When you sat down at your usual table for lunch with him, your foot grazed over his calf. He could shrug it off as an accident in settling in your chair. When it happened again it was harder to brush off. A third time and he knew you had to be doing it on purpose. You didn’t mention it, but for a moment your eyes met his over your sandwich and he felt a jolt of electricity.

“Have you got something more entertaining for me to do with the rest of my day?” you asked.

“You could help me with Pukey,” he said.

“The six words every girl wants to hear,” you said, offering him a little smile, “but I suppose with you it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“You’ll want to wear your coveralls,” he said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Well, he’s not called Pukey for nothing,” he replied, as droll as ever.

“Aw you do care,” you said, fluttering your eyelashes again, “is it because I look so cute in this outfit?”

You lent back in your chair, spine lengthening, showing off your body. His eyes swept down and he had to admit, the confidence looked good on you. Not that you didn’t usually look good. He’d always thought you were beautiful, even when you weren’t being so outwardly confident.

Sometimes he thought you were at your most beautiful late at night, hair tied up in a ponytail half falling out, tired as you rested your head against his shoulder. Maybe he just like how soft you were, half asleep, talking about science in a low voice with him, curled up in a chair or resting against him. Those were the moments he treasured the most, when the lines blurred and everything felt more real.

“I’m just trying to save you from being uncomfortably wet and sticky for the rest of the day,” he eventually said.

“Well now, that might be fun.” You looked at him from under your eyelashes and he felt the flush travel up his neck at thought of you being wet and sticky, “we could find out together.”

“I’ve been on the receiving end of Pukey’s interest. Trust me when I say you don’t want to be,” he managed to get out.

“Perhaps we’ll save that for after work then.”

The wink you shot him made him feel flustered. He shoved back from the table, not quite sure what to make of the entire thing. He was used to the butterflies and the way you made his head spin, but this was something else entirely. It was usually so soft with you, so easy. Now it felt like things were about to get hard.

Clearly the euphemism problem was catching.

You spent the afternoon brushing your fingers over him, hands grasping at him every chance you could get, body brushing against his. It was infuriating and compelling and frustrating in equal measure. Every brush of skin, every warm touch, every small smile was driving him insane.

Until he was so distracted he found himself covered in the ectoplasm shooting out of Pukey’s mouth. He went home for the day after that.

👻👻👻👻👻

“He was definitely blushing.”

You groaned, head thunking against the glass of the enclosure. Jessie was sitting close enough she could reach out and touch it, palm pressed together.

“What?” she asked, “I thought you’d be more excited about this. He’s totally into you.”

“Or maybe he’s just a bit uncomfortable when I touch him and flirt with him,” you said.

“What are you talking about? He was so into it.”

“It’s inconclusive evidence,” you said.

“So we try again tomorrow,” she said, “seriously, give me another day and he’ll be confessing his undying love to you. Or trying to hook up with you. Either way, there’s your answer.”

There was a thought you hadn’t had before.

“Promise me that if he tries you won’t do that with him. Not even a kiss,” you said, pushing up onto your knees, frantic now, hands pressing to the glass.

“Aw, but I get it. He’s cute when he’s all flustered. I bet he’d be fun,” she said.

“I don’t want my first kiss with him to not be me,” you said, “please Jessie.”

“Fine. But when you do kiss him I want to hear all about it. I bet he’s good at it. Tender. Probably give his all to it. Enthusiastic but in a way that makes you feel special rather than like an object. You know?” she said.

“I’ll tell you all about it if you stop talking about him like that,” you said.

“Deal.”

👻👻👻👻👻

“Hey there, hot stuff.”

Lars jumped, not having heard you sneak up on him. Your warm breath brushed his ear, lips practically ghosting against the skin. He turned, too abruptly, almost falling off his stool. You smiled, a small giggle passing over your lips. Your eyes were sparkling with mirth and he found himself wondering why he’d never heard such a thing come from you before.

“What’s got you looking so deep in thought?” you asked, pushing up to sit on the bench beside his computer.

His hand, resting on the keyboard, was close enough to brush your thigh. You kicked your feet, looking down at him, popping a previously unseen lollipop in your mouth. He felt himself shiver when your cheeks hollowed as you sucked on the flavoured sugar.

“Just… looking over some of the readings from last night,” he said.

You nodded, leaning towards him. Your foot gently rested on the side of his stool, brushing his leg as you steadied yourself. Your pink tongue dragged over the red lollipop, staining it an enticing colour. He found himself leaning towards you in turn, focused on your mouth, watching the way you worked the lollipop.

“See anything interesting?” you asked, red stained lips forming the words so beautifully.

He certainly did.

“What?” he asked.

“In the readings from last night,” you replied, leaning back, shoving the lollipop into your cheek until it bulged.

“Oh, right.” He blinked, “some, although I’m unsure what caused them. I’ll run some tests later.”

“Need help?” you asked.

“Don’t you have your own work to be getting on with?” he asked.

“You don’t want me around?” You pulled the lollipop from your mouth to pout at him. The effect was… interesting. Very interesting. He wanted to see if it happened every time you did that.

You broke out in another giggle, shoving at his shoulder before you hopped down from his bench. Your fingers trailed over his shoulders as you rounded him, leaning forward again to whisper in his ear.

“Come find me if you want to have some fun.”

He turned to watch you ver his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if you were aware of his gaze but your hips were swaying in a way that made his mouth dry and his heart beat faster. He had to get a hold on himself. I mean, it was you. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with his feelings. It’s not as if you felt the same way.

Except you kept flirting with him.

He shook his head, certain he was misreading you. He’d done it before, early on in your friendship, and while his crush had never faded, he’d grown to accept that you’d never feel about him the way he felt about you. So he got stuck into his work, trying to ignore the way your lips had perfectly wrapped around that spun sugar, tongue flicking over it, cheeks hollowing with every suck.

Yeah, he was going to need a cold shower when he got home.

When he looked up a few hours later, he immediately found you across the lab, with Hank, the parabotanist. It was like the world turned to slow motion as you laughed, your hand coming up to rest on his bicep. You lent into him, just like you’d lent into him just yesterday and he felt his jaw clench.

Your eyes flicked up, finding him and you offered him a sweet smile and a small wink. It was like something hot came over him followed very quickly by cold. He kept watching as you lent closer to Hank, whispering something in his ear, laughing when he said something, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you looked up at him from under your eyelashes. His lips pressed together and his fist clenched so tightly his pencil snapped.

“Something on your mind, Lars?”

He jumped, Lucky having snuck up on him. He shook his head.

“No, no, no. Everything is fine,” he said, looking back to his work.

“That pencil might disagree,” she said.

“Ha ha,” he replied, the sarcasm dripping form his words, “do you need something?”

“Well I was going to ask for a pencil but…” She looked down at the pieces left on the notebook he’d been using.

“Moving on,” he said.

“They look close,” she said, pointing her chin towards you and Hank.

“They do,” he said, pursing his lips, refusing to look.

“Much to think about,” she said before twirling away, going back to the testing zone and out of his reach.

He looked back to you, only to find your fingers clenching Hank’s shirt, up on your tiptoes as you lent into him. Your face was so close to his. He felt ready to burst.

You giggled, pulling him down towards you. He pushed away from the bench, fists clenching at his side, stalking out the door. Maybe a walk would cool him off. Maybe dunking Hank in the Hudson would help.

Taking some fresh air, he stared out at the industrial wasteland that surrounded the lab. It made no sense, the way you seemed to flip flop on him. Sitting there in the morning with him, making him lose his mind over his need to taste the sugar on your tongue. Then to turn around and make him lose his mind by flirting with Hank.

You were going to be the death of him.

“Am I interrupting some kind of meditation?”

Why must you continually find him when he was trying to screw his head on properly? Your arms appeared in his peripheral vision, resting against the railing next to his. Your shoulder brushed his and his fingers clenched around the cold rusting metal.

“Just getting some fresh air,” he said.

“That’s not like you. Usually you have to be dragged kicking and screaming out of the lab,” you said with a small smile, intimate, like you knew him better than he knew himself.

“What can I say? Times are changing,” he said with a small shrug.

“Not too much, I hope,” you said, leaning into his side, “I like you just the way you are.”

“Not enough,” he muttered.

“What was that?”

Your wide eyes looked up at him and he shook his head.

“Nothing.”

“You know, if there’s something you want to ask me or say to me you always can,” you said.

He considered it, just for a moment, what it would do it he told you exactly what had been going on with him all day. All the thoughts he’d been having about you. The spike of jealousy at seeing you turn your flirtation on Hank. But the way you were looking at him was so open, almost like you were expecting him to say something life changing. He could do it, admit exactly what he wanted and get the girl.

Except then he remembered how easily you flirted with Hank and he had to wonder if he’d been reading it all wrong. That he wasn’t special. That there was no way you’d return his feelings.

“I know,” he said, “shall we get back to work?”

You wound your arm around his, huddling closer as you fell into step beside him. The feeling of your body brushing against him was almost painful. It was like you’d plucked his dream straight from his head, the feel of you going to be burnt into his head for the rest of his life. And you had no idea what you were doing to him.

He would have groaned if you hadn’t been close enough to hear him.

You kept close for the rest of the day, hovering around him as you worked together. Any time he looked up he caught your eyes already on him, eyebrows drawn together as if trying to work out some kind of problem, like he was a maths equation.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Sure.” You smiled brightly at him, “you’re just acting a bit weird today.”

“No I’m not,” he replied, too quickly.

Your hand reached out again, resting on his forearm, the warmth of your touch going through him. He looked down it then back at you. You offered him a little half smile, one that made his heart beat double time. He wanted to lean forward and kiss you. Maybe you saw something of it because you lent in, lips parting, eyes turning liquid.

He coughed, turning away. Now was not the time for that. He couldn’t be thinking those things. It was work and you were you and you deserved more respect than his thoughts were giving you.

When his eyes darted back to you he thought he saw disappointment on your face. He should just ask you, then he wouldn’t have to keep wondering.

Until you got up and rejoined Hank and his stupid plants.

Clearly he had misread that again.

He sighed, just wanting to get through the rest of the day. He loved when you flirted with him in the moment but then the moment you worked away he had no idea what to think. Beyond the fact that all he could think about was kissing you.

He needed some space to get his head on straight and breathe. Then he could tackle it tomorrow.

👻👻👻👻👻

“He was so totally jealous.”

You groaned, head falling forward into your hands.

“What?” Jessie asked, “this is good. When guys get jealous they do drastic things to win you over. Seriously. He’s going to like punch that plant guy or something.”

“I don’t want him assaulting anyone,” you moaned, feeling sick.

“Okay well he probably won’t punch him. He doesn’t seem the type. But he might kiss you,” she said.

“You mean you,” you said.

“No, because I promised I wasn’t going to kiss him,” she said.

You sighed. You’d been right. This was such a bad idea. You should call it off now. Let Lars think it was just two weird days, aberrations before you went back to normal. This was not going to end well. He was going to hate.

“Look, I have a plan. Tomorrow I’m going to push him to the brink. Seriously. Right to the brink. And then the day after you take over again when he’s so wild with desire all he’s going to do is grab you and ravish you.”

All you could do was gape at her. There was nothing you could say. Your life had turned into madness and there was no one but yourself to blame.

“Great plan, right?” she said, grinning at you.

“I don’t know.” You sounded faint, “I guess.”

“Just you wait and see. It’s going to be perfect.”

👻👻👻👻👻

Lars was on alert for your presence. He felt like he had to protect himself or else he was going to do something he regretted. Like confess his feelings at your feet. He didn’t know what had changed, but your behaviour was driving him insane. In all the best ways. But still insane.

He shouldn’t have worried. You were perched on Hank’s desk, fingers stroking along the leaves of his latest plant. It was a caress. And the way Hank was watching your hands, he knew exactly what he was thinking. Probably because he was thinking similar things. Things about having those hands caressing him.

So he did the reasonable thing. He slunk away so he didn’t have to watch as you made someone else fall for you. Or at least chat you up until you went home with him.

Only you had grown an annoying habit of finding him when he least wanted to be found. He looked up from the shadowy corner he’d found himself in, studying the newly returned possessor. The tennis ball bounced around the room, smacking against the glass as he noted down observations. And watched the senseless destruction.

“Are you avoiding me?” Your voice was sweet and he would happily drown in it under different circumstances.

“No,” he said, pushing his glasses up with his index finger, “of course not.”

“I was looking for you,” you said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Do I need a reason to want to spend time with my favourite parabiologist?”

The way you smiled at him was making his head spin. You took a step towards him, stumbling until his hands came up, catching you around the elbow to steady you. Your hand landed on his chest, burning through the layers of clothing. You were slow to drag your eyes up to his, fingers clenching around the fabric of his shirt.

You pushed up onto tiptoes, something fierce coming over your face. He stumbled back, inadvertently pulling you with him, his back hitting the glass of the possessor’s tank. You pressed forward more insistently, pinning him there as you tugged on his shirt, pulling him down towards you.

“Don’t you just find shadowy corners so sexy?” you whispered, lips brushing against his ear.

He shuddered. Your teeth nipped at his earlobe and a rush of something went through him. His eyes blinked open, resting on the enclosure behind you. Pressing closer, he felt you suck his earlobe into his mouth.

His fingers tightened on your arms and he wanted to drag you closer until your skin was against his. Only his eyes were still on the enclosure behind you. The very empty enclosure. His eyebrows drew together even as he felt the tug on his earlobe.

If the ghost was free…

It was like something thunked into place. Three days of such changed behaviour in you. Three days of something different. Three days of being driven mad.

He shoved you away, eyes scanning over you. Your cheeks flushed and he could see the sting of rejection in your eyes, something he never wanted to see there. But was it you? Or was it…?

“I’m sorry,” you said, sounding breathless, the well of tears in your eyes, “I thought…”

You shook your head, turning on your toes and fleeing. His hand reached out, wanting to stop you, to drag you back, to hide in an even more shadowy corner. Instead, he stepped forward, hand resting against the cool glass of the empty enclosure. Peering in, it felt as if his worst suspicions had been confirmed.

He wasn’t sure what to do.

👻👻👻👻👻

“You scared him off.”

All of those thoughts you’d had before were screaming at you. Of course agreeing to this foolish plan was a mistake. Lars was never going to speak to you again after the spectacle Jessie had made of you. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were fired for her behaviour.

“I can fix this. I swear it was all going to well. I can make it better,” Jessie said.

You were pacing backwards and forwards in front of her tank, not able to stop. You had to do something or else you might burst into tears.

“You can’t. You’ve ruined everything. He’s never going to so much as look at me again. I should never have agreed to this,” you spat.

“Don’t blame me. You were the one so desperately in love with him you needed my help,” she said.

“And all you’ve done is made sure he’ll never want me,” you said.

“I’ve always wanted you.”

You jumped, whirling around. A shadowy figure stepped forward, your heart in your throat. Tears jumped into your eyes and you found yourself taking a step back, even as the shadows parted and you saw the man standing back, keeping his distance.

“Lars,” you breathed.

“You know we’re not meant to let the ghosts out,” he said.

“I know.”

He took another step towards you, just one, and you felt the need to flee. How much had he heard? Enough to say that he… that he…

“You want me?” you asked.

“I’d rather not have this conversation with an audience.” His eyes darted to Jessie then back to you.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m pretty invested in this love story,” she said.

“And that’s why I’d like to do this elsewhere.”

He held out a hand to you. Without conscious thought, you went to him, his hand resting on the small of your back to lead you away. The warmth of his palm against your spine made you feel breathless. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched you, but it was the most significant. Or at least, you thought it might be.

He led to you to small couch you’d convinced Winston to bring in, for those late night work sessions. Many nights you’d curled up on it, you and Lars whispering theories to one another in the dark. More than once you’d nodded off against his shoulder. Now, you kept to your side of the couch, tensing your muscles to keep from sliding into the middle where you would inevitably touch him.

“You’ve been letting Jessie possess you,” he said.

You couldn’t look at him. The only response he got was a small nod.

“Why?”

You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut before turning to look at you. He was already looking back and when you turned, your knee brushed against his thigh. You looked down at it, the small connection between you. Fingers tilted your chin back up and you felt your breath catch.

“Please tell me why you would do that?” he asked.

It was dangerous how easily you gave in to him.

“We’re friends,” you said, “but the way I feel about you is more than platonic. And sometimes I thought you might feel the same way but I couldn’t tell. So when I was talking to Jessie about it she suggested that she… She knows how to flirt and make men like her. It was stupid, I know but I was desperate. Loving you has become torture.”

“That doesn’t bode well for what I’m about to say,” he said.

His fingers were still under your chin, forcing you to keep eye contact with him. His other hand slid along your knee, resting on your thigh, fingers gently digging in. You were breathless, falling into him like a wormhole.

“I wish you’d just talked to me about this. You wouldn’t have had to go through all of this,” he said.

You braced for the rejection.

“Because I feel the same way.”

The way he was looking at you was making you reel. A half smile, a cocky smirk, but eyes that felt liquid, smouldering as he looked at you. You were leaning towards him and his hand was climbing up your leg.

“You do?” you asked, voice soft, not quite able to believe it.

“How could I not fall for you? You’re perfect just the way you are,” he said.

He pulled you closer, lips brushing together. You gasped, pressing closer, fingers sliding into his soft hair, pulling him towards you. He fell into you, pushing you back against the arm of the sofa, body aligning with yours. He fell between your legs, keeping you pinned to the couch cushions as you arched into him.

His kiss was soft and intense, desire melting through your veins like ice. You wanted more, to feel him everywhere, to drown in him. The way his tongue licked into your mouth had you moaning, tugging on his hair until he growled into your mouth. His hips pressed more firmly into you, almost grinding against you.

“Hey, if you two are getting it on, can you do it where I can see?”

He grumbled something into your mouth but pulled back with a parting kiss. You felt drunk off him, hazy and needy. He was slow to stand, hands brushing over your body as he did, only making you squirm. Pulling you up, he curled his arm around your waist, pulling you closer again.

“Guys?”

You ignored Jessie, pushing up on tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He hummed, arm tightening before releasing you.

“Are you guys still there?”

“Goodbye Jessie,” he called over to her enclosure.

His hand closed around yours, tugging you out of the lab, into the dark of the night. You stumbled closer, the cool wind making you shiver. You pressed closer, leeching his body warmth in the chilled night.

“Can you just…” You tried to figure out how to word it, “can you just say how you feel again?”

“I’m completely and stupidly in love with you,” he said without missing a beat, arm curling around your shoulder to keep you close, “and if you want to keep flirting with me I won’t be upset about it.”

“But as me properly, right?” you asked, “not like Jessie?”

“She was too intense. I want the real you,” he said.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you came to your parked car. You looked up into those blue eyes you’d been dreaming about, fingers curling around the collar of his jacket, tugging him down.

“Then you should know that I find you hotter than an exothermic reaction,” you whispered, lips brushing his.

He groaned, kissing you deeply against the side of your car, as if he couldn’t help himself. You laughed, nipping at his bottom lip as you drew back.

“I much prefer your form of flirting,” he said, forehead falling forward against yours.

“Good,” you said.

He kissed you again and you melted against him. Stupid plan, stupid ghost, stupid insecurities. You could get the guy all on your own.

#lars pinfield #lars pinfield imagine #lars pinfield x reader #anon #request

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nightcolorz · 3 months ago

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I stumbled on your blog and i love it sm!!

Its so weird, because i am a huge Marius fan, and you put many reasons why he is my absolute favorite character as things why he SUCKS! Its so cool to me, to read something so accurate and then have someone put out a completely different opinion on it! (i do not think he is Good, none of them are. But i think he is cool, his better qualities resonate with me the most of all the characters, i love lore, and i love reading about him the most)

There are few things, that i do not understand and it bothers me endlessly! I just can't figure out where some readings come from, very sinserely (because i want to respect other readings and interpretations), maybe you could help me understand?

First: that Marius dislikes being challenged and tries to "keep Armand to himself"(generalizing) - as i read it, Marius prefers people who challenge him, can stand up to him. All of his paramours are like that - Pandora, Bianca, Armand, Lestat, Daniel..even Botticelli actively defy him, in a way other characters don't and Marius himself is vocal on that being something he admires about them. He does not know how to deal with that, oh no, but he loves it - the fire he himself does not possess. He also actively helps Armand learn about his culture and family, ready to be left behind when they visit Kievan Rus. He also never shows any type of concern about Armands "daytime" personal connections. As i remember, he encourages it decpite objections, actually.. My personal reading is that most drama and abuse between Marius and Armand is about Marius refusing the codependency Armand desperatly wants. (and them being oppisitely unhealthy about that)

Second: there is a notion, that Marius would not want Armand to grow up? And i do not understand where it comes from at all... Marius actively states (and thinks) that his own wish is to see Armand grown into a Man and he refuses time and time again to turn him before then (or to turn him at all) , until Armand is on the deaths door. (i also saw a thing about shaving, but all of them are shaved before the turning as an old ritual, canonically, i believe, only Santino is unshaved so. I might be wrong tho lol. One of canon reasons (again, if my memories are not faulty) - facial and body hair might go in and out of style, so clean shave helps them blend in better)

I you would spare some time to let me understand where those come from i would be forever grateful, because i sometimes think i am blind (and i might be! Thats why i ask. I am a bit scared that i might be percieved in bad faith, but if i have a blindspot i will not see it myself, so getting outside help is the only way haha)

I hope you have a great day! Thnx for the very least reading my ask!

(this is going to be slightly shorter then I initially wanted it to be bcus I wrote a whole essay and tumblr DELETED IT, so I’m so sorry ur going to get a condescend version of my thoughts 😰 I hope they still make sense, anyways)

Thank u sm anon ur so nice omg 🥹❤️ it makes me so happy that u like my blog!!! Don’t worry at all about coming off as bad faith u only come off as respectful and curious to me. I’m going to answer ur questions the best I can! 🙏

I think that the reason a lot of my Marius posts seem to contradict parts of canon is bcus Marius is a very self contradictory character. His wants are often in conflict with each other, and in his relationship with Armand he is always warring between conflicting desires.

First: I definitely agree that Marius seeks out people who challenge him and does rlly enjoy it (to an extent lol). but the way I perceive it, marius likes to be challenged *to an extent*. He doesn’t want a partner who will be weak and docile with him, he wants a partner he’ll need to fight into being docile and he wants to loose that fight<3.He prefers someone with some fire in them, clearly, based on his choice of lovers lol. And I think this is bcus Marius likes the chase, like any vampire. He likes the thrill of being with someone who makes him hurt for it a little bit, he likes fighting and arguing and struggling to stifle a spark he knows is too bright to put out. But also, like most ppl lol, Marius likes to be challenged only so much as he isn’t challenged to the point of having to change himself. He doesn’t want to change his perspective, whenever a partner of his gets him to rethink how he thinks or acts he tends to get rlly mad. He wants to be challenged as long as it’s fun, if he’s uncomfortable or feeling like he might actually adopt a new perspective or change as a person he puts a stop to it. At the end of the day he needs that teacher and student or master and subordinate dynamic to stay in tact. He likes to be challenged but he doesn’t like to be weakened or caught off guard in anyway that makes him question his authority or his strength.

When it comes to Marius helping Armand rediscover his culture, yas! This actually is a good transition bcus this is also a good example of what I’m talking about when it comes to the being challenged thing. Marius is happy and eager to help Armand heal from the demons of his past by rediscovering the family and culture hes forgotten, so long as Armand is obedient and answering to his call at the end of the day. Marius is happy to be left on the sidelines, up until armand starts disregarding his authority and moving away from him on his own path. After coming home from Kiev Armand realizes that he doesn’t gain anything from learning from Marius and he would rather learn on his own by discovering himself and processing what this new culture means to him. And Marius let’s him have this, until he realizes that he’s loosing his control over Amadeo and he is not going to come back to him without a push, and he beats the absolute shit out of him 😭 again, challenged to an extent.

Second: when marius first buys Armand he explains in blood and gold that part of why he chose Armand was bcus he wanted a vampire companion in Bianca, but he felt too guilty to turn Bianca bcus she was a bright young woman with a future ahead of her, so he chose Armand to be his future vampire companion instead bcus Armand was broken enough to not have a chance of a future anyway (therefore turning him is guilt free). Then, marius learns very quickly that Armand could easily have a future just as bright as Bianca, once he’s under his care he starts to prosper, and he realizes that turning him into a vampire would be equally as cruel as turning Bianca. So his motive changes, and he decides that his desire to turn Armand is wrong and he should instead give him the chance to live a full human life just like any of the other boys. Marius wants this bcus he knows that it’s the right thing to do, to give up the person he loves for their own good. But it’s also, deep down, not what he wants at all, bcus it agonizes him to think of a future where he doesn’t have Amadeo. So this creates this self contradictory mess, where Marius is aiming both at the same time to turn Armand into a vampire and also to let him live a human life. He starts doing contradictory things, like feeding Armand his blood and exposing him to vampirism + getting him hooked on it, and then sending him out to “experience humanity” bcus that’s what Marius wants for him.

It caused Armand to be driven absolutely insane, bcus he’s being communicated two different things about what Marius wants for his future. I think Marius’s conflicting desire causes part of Armand’s desperate begging for him to turn him. Armand is so fed up with this mind melding conflict he just wants Marius to rip the band aid off and do it 😭 cuz they both know it’s what they both want. And Marius knows that this is the terrible abusive option, and he can’t get Armand to see this bcus Armand is too far deep in his love brain.

So my answer is, Marius wants Armand to grow up bcus he knows that’s what’s best for him, but he continues to hold out on the possibility of vampirism and refuses to cut ties with Armand bcus he rlly does want to turn him against his better judgement, which in my opinion reads as a desire to keep him young, under his control, in that limbo stage where he doesn’t need to make a decision. Partly bcus if Armand is young and compliant and his body isn’t changing the clock isn’t ticking and Marius doesn’t have to confront that his choices r either loose Amadeo or ruin him.

when it comes to the “shaving Armand was part of a vampire ritual” personally I don’t remember that? It’s not that I don’t believe u, that could totally be accurate and it definitely sounds like smth that would be canon, but I’m struggling to remember if I read that and forgot. I’ve always perceived the Marius shaves Armand cuz he wants to preserve his youth thing as accurate bcus it’s interesting and makes sense for the characters and I don’t remember anything that contradicts it lol, I also don’t remember any other character being shaved pre turning as a ritual besides Armand so I didn’t consider if it was a vampire thing. but u could be right and if so oops I’m sorry for spreading misinfo 😭 but either way that’s still gonna be my headcanon and my interpretation is much the same lol

I hope u have a great day anon and find this interesting ❤️ thank u for the ask!

#armand #tvc #the vampire chronicles #marius de romanus #iwtv #interview with the vampire #vampire chronicles #amc iwtv #the vampire armand #vc

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sapphireufo · 6 months ago

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My thoughts about the finale's timeline based on the stills.

We will start with the Buck & Tommy date. (Whether there will be scenes about Bobby (and Athena) before that, just to hurt us more, I don't know.) It looks like night time, and the fire happened at night. A call will interrupt their date. (Who will call Buck? The hospital? Is he Bobby's emergency contact after Athena? Will he call the others? So many burning questions.)

They all rush to the hospital. Hence the same clothes. I would love if Tommy would be there with Buck, but he's not in any of these photos or the promo. Although a girl can dream...

Bobby has to be in the hospital for days. So the team comes and goes, because Athena investigates, and she had to be at the hospital for some time, while the doctors made sure she's okay.

So I think while they are there (next day / morning maybe) Hen gets a call and I don't even know what the hell happens with them, but Mara deserves a great family so they better fight for her and win. So go Henren! We support you! We love you! ❤️ (And so does Chim. Hopefully, he and Maddie could help them.)

I suppose the same happens with Eddie. They are wearing the same clothes, but it's daytime, so probably they spent the night at the hospital and the next day after the fire, Eddie gets a call. Go home, where he speaks with Buck, his parents. I don't know what will happen but I know it will be messy and we have all the feels, all the drama and heartbreak.

I reckon in this scene he tells Buck about what happened with Kim and Christopher and Marisol, then he will talk with his parents (When will they arrive? Are they in the other room, or with Chris or not there yet?)

Will Buck be present and just went out when the phone rung or was he in the other room during this talk? Will he talk to Eddie's parents at all, or he's just there as moral support. I think they get a call about Bobby. So they go to the hospital again (where all this time, there was always somebody to keep Bobby company, and Bobby will be fine, everyone will be fine and happy and the problems magically go away. 🤡)

I think this will be the last scene, a couple days later (different clothes), where Chris goes with his grandparents, while he forgives Eddie and Eddie goes to therapy and gets better. 😭

Cue the tears, the tissue and a very long wait till season 8. (I hope they will start at the end of September. 🤞)

PS. I like that they got renewed sooner, but it also means cliffhangers. They know they don't need to close every story line and frankly they can't do it to all 3 major character arcs in 44 minutes.

#911 #911 on abc #911 spoilers #911 speculation #911 season 7 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bobby nash #athena grant #hen wilson #karen wilson #chimney han #my thoughts #911 abc

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theloveoftoms · 2 years ago

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one hell of a pilot - maverick x reader

summary: after a recent breakup, your long-time friend goose suggests you join him and the others at a bar off base. maverick and you forge a meaningful connection <3

a/n: hello babes, guess who's back from her far too long hiatus, this girl! I started writing this a few weeks ago, and I finally finished it. I hope you all enjoy, I know writing it was a blast! I have my poetry final today, so wish me luck lolz. have a great day :)) - xoxo mac

wordcount: 4.3k

warnings: alcohol consumption, shitty ex-boyfriend, language ;0

Today had been a rough day. Training at Top Gun had increased to a new level of difficulty. With each new assignment and flight training demanding a new level of grit and determination to accomplish. And it certainly didn’t help that your heart was still in the process of mending from the pain caused by your most recent boyfriend, well, now I suppose, ex-boyfriend.

The day at Top Gun was finally over, and the thought of coming home to your single-unit pleased you in the moment, but you knew damn well, that the second you got back to your apartment, the dread of it all would sink in.

So, after a shower, and a luke-warm beer that you had forgotten to put in the refrigerator, you found yourself perched on the arm of your living room couch, fiddling with the remote that never seemed to work, but probably just needed batteries. You found some shitty action movie on tv and ate a plate of strawberries as the sound of fast cars and men with Floridan accents became a comforting lull in the background.

Your night, or at least how you had planned it, would consist of, 1) the second half of this shitty movie 2) the leftover chicken quesadilla you had waiting for you in the refrigerator and 3) the cheap thriller novel that you had found at the drugstore last week. What you didn’t anticipate happening, was the doorbell ringing promptly at nine, just after you had finished your dinner.

So, you pulled yourself up from the couch, and on the way to the door, when you passed a glimpse of your reflection in the hallway mirror, you debated grabbing a cardigan or a blanket or something to cover up your sloppy look. You were wearing a navy-branded t-shirt (courtesy of your days at the academy), and pair of biker shorts that appeared to be non-existent as they hid beneath the excess material of the mens tripple-XL shirt. But the closer you got to the door, the further that thought was in your mind, and you decided, that whoever was on the other side of the door would just have to deal with your post-work image.

“y/l/n,” Goose stated confidently, a hand resting on his hip, “you busy tonight?”

Your posture relaxed when you realized who it was; the man you practically grew up with.

You deadpanned and gestured to yourself, “does it look like I’m busy Bradshaw?”

Goose shrugged, not entirely sure how to reply to that retort of yours.

“What do you need Goose?” You asked nonchalantly, both wanting and not-wanting to get back inside to the comforts of your sofa.

“A couple of the guys and I are going to grab drinks at the Duke and I was wondering if you wanted to tag along?”

You gestured to yourself again, “Does it look like I’m fit to go to a bar Nick?”

“It looks like you need a pair of fuckin pants,” he said jokingly, which earned a slap to his bicep.

“I know things haven’t been great for you lately y/n,” Goose said, “with Brett and all.”

Brett. Just hearing his name brought an unwanted surge of pain through your chest. Specifically, the surge of pain that you had been trying to push away for the past couple of weeks. You didn’t cry about him anymore, in the daytime that is. But at night, when you would lie in bed beneath the darkness of the moon, missing the presence of having someone to curl into, the tears would come, and they would temporarily make an impression on your pillowcase. But as you slept it off, the tears would dry, and you would wake up the next morning feeling mostly okayish.

“And I think,” Goose said, bringing you back into reality from the facade of memories that you had been reminiscing upon within your mind just then, “if you came out with us tonight, you’d have more fun than you would here,” he said, gesturing to your townhome, “spilling a tub of ice cream all over yourself while you sit alone with the lights off.”

Way harsh Goose, you thought to yourself. But he did have a point. You hadn’t been out in forever. The last time you actually went and got drinks like a proper twenty-something-year-old was with your parents when you relocated to San Diego for your position in Top Gun. And that was just at some locally owned Mexican restaurant that happened to have a bar inside. Maybe it would be good to get back out there?

You rolled your eyes, “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready.”

So, as Goose, your childhood best friend stood in your kitchen, washing the plate you had used to eat your chicken quesadilla, you were busy in your room getting yourself ready for the evening. You dressed yourself in a lacey black tank top that looked only slightly like lingerie, but didn’t if you wore it tucked into a pair of straight-cut jeans and wore it alongside a pair of low beige heels. As you ran a comb through your wavy hair, you couldn’t help but stare at yourself in the mirror.

Sure, it was a pretty typical outfit that other young women of your age wore when they went out for drinks, but it was cute. And it did provide you with the security of looking just like every other woman. Thats exactly what you wanted to appear to be; just like every other woman. Brett had dumped you because you weren’t ready to settle down with him. You weren’t ready to move in, you weren’t ready for marriage, and you sure as hell weren’t ready for children. Brett wanted you to finish up Top Gun and then lie low for a while, putting your career aside. “Be realistic,” Brett had said, “This pilot shit can’t last forever. Maybe look at getting a different job, one thats more feminine?”

Your career was very important to you. You had worked so hard to climb the latter that that is the United States Navy. Your career was the highlight of your life. It was everything you had ever worked towards. And you weren’t going to give that up. And as much as you hated to admit, the reason of your recent break-up, had been affecting your ego ever so slightly.

So tonight, as you admired your curves in the mirror, and put on some mascara, you told yourself that you were just like every other woman.

…

“This better be worth it,” you grumbled, shutting the door to Goose’s Bronco, scanning the beach-side dive bar with your eyes.

Off in the distance, the evening tangerine hue was beginning to creep up and onto the horizon, putting the day to sleep in preparation for the night. And alongside the dimming of the evening, the neon lights of the dive bar became more welcoming.

The Duke, the off-base bar that Goose had insisted you join him and the others at, was the kind of place that had charm, but only if you knew where to look for it. It was the kind of place with neon lights and drinks that were both cheap and good. It was the kind of place that people came to forget about the day they had just had. Thats what you wanted. And the aura of the loud music coming from the bar would sure help with that.

“Trust me, y/n,” Goose reassured you, responding to your question, “it will be.”

You wanted to believe Goose, you really did. And the moment you saw the table of guys that you’ve began to come to know as your group of friends, the night already seemed better.

“Look who made it!” Iceman said as you approached the table, making you feel welcome, “Its good to see you Cobra,” he said, calling you by your call sign.

You smiled and as you took a seat at one of the empty chairs, saying your ‘hellos’ to the other classmates that were here. And at the end of the table was no other than Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell – perhaps, your greatest competitor – sitting laxly with a beer in his hands and his regular leather jacket draped around his chair.

Damn he had nice arms.

“Evening Cobra,” he said to you, leaning back ever so slightly in a way that seemed to be slightly too confident.

“Maverick,” you offered as a form of pleasantry.

Slider, who was busy looking at the drink menu slapped it down on the counter, pointing to one item in particular. “Now this,” he said, his finger drawn to a platter of five tequila shots, “this is what we need to get things going.”

So, as soon as a one of the circulating waitresses happened to be walking by your table, she wrote down, and then brought over the collective order of your table, the night certainly got a whole lot more exciting.

“Alright,” Goose said, handing you your stalky shot glass of 100% pure tequila, complete with a rim of salt and an accompanying lime, “To good times,” he said nodding.

“Good times,” you repeated along with the others, before drawing the glass to your mouth, tasting the dryness of the salt right before proceeding to take the shot.

The warmth of the alcohol tricked down your throat as you swallowed, and you forgot just how strong shots could be. You weren’t sure if swallowing it as quickly as possible made the uncomfortable sensation better or worse, but as soon as the clear liquid was all emptied from your glass, you jammed the lime into your mouth and squinted your eyes shut as a way to combat the sensation. You weren’t the only one. It seemed everyone at your table, was just to realizing how strong Slider’s chosen shots were.

“Shit,” Goose groaned, setting his glass down on the table, “And you enjoy these Slider?”

Slider shrugged, grinning, “Its awful right now, but hey, come ten minutes, you’ll feel real great.”

Opening one of the beers on the table, you rolled your eyes Sliders comment, “It’ll take more than that,” you sarcastically groaned to Goose who was seated beside you.

“What was that y/n?” Iceman asked.

You shook your head, “Ah, it was nothing.”

“Do I hear you wanting to go for a round two?”

Now, a sensible you would have said no. But since it was Friday night, you wouldn’t have to get up early tomorrow for class. And its not like you had any other plans for the day besides catching up on some paperwork and going on your usual walk. So for once in your life, you threw caution to the wind and agreed, “You got it Ice.”

So, naturally, when your platter of shots arrived, you passed them out, handing each one of the guys their respective glasses with a smirk.

“Maverick,” you said charmingly – gee, thanks alcohol – and you tried to avoid the warm feeling in your chest when your slender fingers skimmed against Maverick’s as you handed him the glass.

“Three, two, one,” you counted down, giving yourself, and possibly the rest of your group, the mental preparation prior to that same burning sensation that would wreak havoc in your mouth prior to swallowing and quickly placing the lime in your mouth.

There was a collective groan from your table as the five shot glasses returned to their small cedar serving plank.

You laughed, washing down the remaining remnants of the uncomfortable taste with the beer you had ordered. “I am not doing that again.”

So, for the next while, as the effects of the alcohol began to make itself present in your body, you sat at the table, just chatting and hanging out with your classmates, sharing stories from your lives before the navy. And while the five of you talked, you couldn’t help but stare at the opposite end of the table where Maverick was seated.

Sure, naturally, prior to this evening, you had realized that Maverick was attractive, but being in a relationship with someone didn’t really allow you to fully appreciate his beauty. With his dark hair, carelessly brushed in an effortlessly windswept way atop of his head, and his oceanic eyes, that in some lights appeared green, and in others, appeared to be almost blue.

Physically, he was gorgeous, but your past interactions with him intrigued you to what it would be like to know him. He had an ego, one that was strong and unaffected, but there was something about his drive, about his reach, about the passion he put into everything he did. You couldn’t help but wonder if one knew him intimately, if he would pursue them with the same passion and drive.

The thought cleared from your mind when his eyes met yours, making you look away, and ultimately force yourself to think of something other than the man that is Maverick.

You hadn’t noticed, but with the loss of your collective sobriety that each one of you can your friends had came in with, the music in the dive bar began to form a sound for itself. The radio collection, of rock, and pop, and some hard core groovy songs had elevated in loudness, so much so, that in a section of the bar a cluster of people had begun to dance among the cleared spot in the building.

“Do you guys see that?” Slider asked, his face drawn in a grin.

You turned in your chair, studying the dancers with your eyes, then turning back to face the table, “What?” You asked.

“That blonde over there,” Slider said, “She’s giving me some serious fuck me eyes.”

Hearing those words come out of your classmates mouth nearly made you choke on your beer, you weren’t expecting that.

“Wanna join me Ice?” Slider asked, “She’s got friends.”

You rolled your eyes as the two of them as they both threw themselves out of their seats and leisurely sauntered over to the dance floor.

“Anything to get laid,” Goose muttered jokingly when the two men began to sway to the beat of the music not quite beside, but very much near the two women.

“You could probably meet someone out there Cobra,” Goose said, more directly to you.

You scanned the crowd again, “I’m not too sure if I want to,” you gestured to the men, “they all look like their mothers still pick out their clothes for them.”

Maverick snorted from his spot over across the table, “She’s got a point Nick.”

You turned to face Maverick and flashed him a grin, “see, someone gets me!”

Goose shook his head, trying to hide his smile before saying, “I’m going to go give Carol a call, I promised I’d call her tonight. You two try and stay out of trouble,” he said, lecturing the two of you like children.

Seemingly the moment Goose left the table, Maverick’s gaze met yours. You were usually fine with eye connate, but there was something about the way that Maverick’s enchanting green eyes were staring into your own that made you feel both nervous and calm at the same time. You weren’t too sure what to say, or what the two of you could talk about, so as a way of diverting the imminence of your conversation, you took another drink of your beer, which only provided a moment relief where you weren’t required to think of what to say.

“You dance?” He asked you, the comment coming out of nowhere.

You shook your head, “I can sort-of dance, but I don’t that often,” you told him unsure of why you chose to tell him that. “And you?” You asked him back.

Maverick shook his head grinning, “not really my thing either.”

And then from across the room you heard a voice of familiarity, and right away you knew who it belonged to. Brett. Your ex-boyfriend Brett. The man who broke your heart Brett.

As much as you didn’t want to turn around, and face the man who had told you to take a step down from your career, your suspicions got the best of you, and as much as you didn’t wish to see him, there was some sort of burning panic in your chest that wouldn’t be fulfilled if you didn’t turn in your seat.

There he was. Standing tall, with his sandy hair, and well sculpted physique, whispering tiny inaudible thoughts into the ear of a woman with bleach blonde hair. Your eyes met his, and suddenly you wanted to leave. You wanted a sinkhole to come up into the bar and swallow you whole. And the moment Brett flashed you a grin, one that said, this is my new woman, you jealous? You felt the desire, no, the need to get out of the bar. You weren’t ready to face all of this just yet.

But time doesn’t always work in your favour. And so the moment Brett walked over to your table, his arm linked tightly around the slender waist of the bleach blonde woman, you weren’t too sure what to do.

Brett smiled in the kind of way that reminded you of what it was like to know him, before spewing out pleasantries and introducing the woman known as Crystal who was joined at his hip. “Its good to see you out y/n,” he said coyly, and in that moment, a ping of hatred found its way through your heart, how had you ever been with this man.

But instead of telling him off, as much as you wanted to, you smiled bluntly, your eyes revealing your true nature, “And its good to see you indulging in pleasures other than morning runs and cheap beer from the gas station.”

As Crystal gave you a dirty look, Maverick snorted before walking over to your end of the table and putting an arm around your chair, “I think its time for you to be on your way man,” he said to Brett.

Brett shrugged, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “I was just coming by to say hello,” before he walked away, his hand moving down from Crystals waist circulating above her ass. Good riddance Brett!

You turned to Maverick, flashing him a gentle smile, “thanks for that Mav,” before pausing and looking to the door, “if you don’t mind, I think I just need some air.”

And without protest, you pushed yourself up from your seat, and tried to compose yourself as the night time air hit your face. You felt warm – thanks to the alcohol – but the coldness felt lovely on your skin. You felt refreshed, cleansed almost.

On the opposite side of the Duke, was the sandy beach leading up to the ocean, which now, in the dark of night, was illumined by nearby houses and buildings, and the light of the moon reflected calmly on the waters. You decided to walk onto the sand, removing your heels from your feet and letting the now-cold sand wiggle around your toes as you walked, until you found a spot within the sand to take a seat.

Gosh, the one person you didn’t want to see tonight was Brett, and surely enough, he was there. You hated that you saw him, and you hated that you weren’t quite over him yet. Naturally, things would take time, you just wanted to get through that as quick as you could.

Behind you, you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, which made you turn, your awareness of your surroundings coming into a fuller passage.

It was Maverick, waking slowly towards you through the sand. “Mind if I sit?” He asked.

You gestured to the available ground beside yourself, “by all means, be my guest.”

You didn’t really feel like you wanted company, but then again, it was Maverick, only Maverick, and you didn’t want to turn him away after he had stood up for you back there.

And as soon as Maverick sat down beside you, the warmth and familiarity of his scent filed your way through the air, a blend of sandalwood and citrus, and cedar, and near-summer nights, you found yourself relax a bit in his presence.

For a while, the two of you just sat there beneath the moonlight in one another's company, just listening to the sound of the waves upon the shore. It was peaceful.

“So that was him?” He finally asked you.

You nodded, turning your face ever so slightly to face him, “that was Brett, the Marine.”

Maverick nodded, “Goose told me about him,” he paused, “he seems like an ass.”

You chuckled, not too sure why, “you’re right about that.”

You weren't too sure how much of your failed relationship you wanted to share with your friend. You and Maverick weren't particularly close, but the two of you obviously cared about one another.

“I just hate,” you sighed, “I hate how when I was with him, I didn’t even realize how big of a dick he could be.”

Maverick looked over to you, as if he knew you were going to say more.

“He told me to give up my career after I’m done at Top Gun,” you said, feeling a sense of relief by telling someone else about the matter, “He wanted to get married, and have kids, and he wanted me to follow him wherever he went.”

Maverick scoffed.

“And its not that I even hate that that’s what he wanted, I hate that part of me, a very, very, small part of me, considered it. And sometimes, all I can do if worry about if I made the right decision, and walked away from him, from that life for the one Ive worked so hard for.”

Maverick shook his head, and in a more quiet tone, he turned to face you, “don't ever doubt yourself like that. Ever.”

You looked away from him, feeling some warm sensation in your chest, but when Maverick resumed to speak, you had no other choice but to turn back to face the brunette.

“You’re a pilot,” he said, “Its in your blood, its in your veins, its who you are. And you’re damn good at it. Hell, somedays I wish I was nearly as good as you. You fly with so much precision and drive and when you're up there, I only wish I could have a fraction of whatever it is that you do, because you are just so so good at it.”

You looked back to Maverick, noticing the soften in his usual expression. His moonlight eyes were on you, and only you.

“And if you ever think you would be better off with some dick like Brett, you’re wrong, because someone who loves you, shouldn’t hold you back from your potential, they should push you, they should inspire you to do better, to be better, to become better.”

For a while, the two of you just sat in silence, absorbing the pure intimacy of one another's gaze. You hadn’t realized how cold it was beginning to get because you were too busy thinking about what Maverick had just said. You didn’t realize the trail of goosebumps that had found their way across both of your arms, the cool night time air that brushed against them. But Maverick did.

Maverick slipped his arms out of his leather jacket, and draped it around your shoulders, a peaceful expression on his face. “Here,” he said, dawning the jacket, the very one that smelt so much like him it made you relax, “Its not super warm, but its better than nothing.”

When the warmth returned to your arms, almost the minute you gathered the material around yourself, your thoughts were finally gathered back into your head. You turned to Maverick, your knee brushing up against his faintly, but just enough that you were aware of its presence, and the way in which the faint warmth radiated through the fabric of both his jeans and yours, until you became hyperaware of its presence, and gave him a soft smile. “Thank you,” you told him.

“For the jacket,” you said, pulling the leather closer to your chest, “and for what you said. No one has ever told me that before.” You paused a moment, “it means a lot.”

Maverick’s expression softened and he looked at you contently, “its the truth,” he said softly.

You leaned into him, your head now resting on his shoulder, you felt a sense of peace, a sense of relief, you felt relaxed in Maverick’s presence. And when he leant his head, gently atop of yours, you knew that what Maverick had said was genuine.

And so, like you had initially thought, when Goose suggested the idea of going to a bar, you thought you would have maybe made one or two bad decisions, maybe choosing to kiss a man with far too much tongue, or follow him home. But what had ended up amounting from the evening was far better. You made a real connection, with someone who you would later find out, would become well worth you time.

That was the night you had met Maverick for the second time. The night when the two of you forged a connection one that even time wouldn’t be able to take away.

#top gun #maverick #pete maverick mitchell #lt pete mitchell #goose #maverick x goose #maverick mitchell #nick goose bradshaw #iceman #tom iceman kazansky #slider #maverick x reader #maverick x y/n #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #nick bradshaw

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ofthecaravel · 8 months ago

Text

Heaven In Time

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Am I A Con Man Or A Brother?

Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Summary: A year or so after meeting, Sam and Danny are on the road again and hope to get through Sam's home state of Alabama with no trouble. Easy enough, right?

Tags: Religious trauma, hella guilt tripping/mentions of religious upbringing, Fighting, sauciness but no outright smut, healthy ass relationship

Words: 5.6k

A/N: Welcome back! Sorry! Let me know what you think. Chap 3 is in progress 👀 Also this is kinda random but would any of y'all be interested in a playlist for this fic? Do people still do that?

“You gonna be good while I go in?”

“Ye of little faith.”

“You, mister, of chatting mouth and wayfaring legs.”

“Since when do you complain about my legs? You didn’t seem to mind ‘em when they were over your sh-”

“Hey now, hey now, okay. What did I just say about behaving yourself? Jesus Christ.”

Sam laughed brashly as he hopped up on the hood of the truck and made a show of crossing his legs with an angelic smile. Danny, standing over Sam with a firm grasp on his chin, rolled his eyes with the beginnings of a smile spreading over his tan face. It had turned out that Danny’s initial baseless accusations of Sam’s rebellious attitude had proven to be mostly accurate, with the only difference being that Sam’s tendency to wander around fell more on the side of striking up friendships with random strangers and impeding their errands schedule rather than picking fights with vagrants and ending up in the back of sketchy white vans. Over the last year they’d spent on the road, Sam’s increasing confidence and grasp on individuality had given him a smart mouth and big opinions. Gone were the days of the meek, awkward preacher’s son with a guilty conscience that sat on his chest like a rock. Now he stood tall with a proud demeanor and, more often than not, in cut off denim shorts with a cigarette hanging from his bitten lips.

Sam settled on the hood in that same fashion then, pulling a cigarette from the pack bulging in the front pocket of his tiny shorts and sticking it in his mouth, pleadingly pushing it out towards Danny with a calculated batting of his lashes to get the point across. Danny rolled his eyes again but quickly pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit it up, secretly very pleased to be the one to dote on Sam. Despite Sam’s drastic change in personality making him a far cry from the dusty hitchhiker Danny had picked up back in Texas, Danny’s affection only grew as the months passed them by. It was weird for him to look back on how this trip had begun: alone and directionless, setting off from his family farm in Florida with no one at his side. Sometimes when they were driving, Danny found it hard to recall a time without Sam’s passenger side chatter. How did he get as far as Texas without it? Silence was distressing to him now. Still, he found great fun in requesting it of Sam.

“Just stay here and be quiet,” Danny requested with faux exasperation. “I’m only gonna be in there for a few minutes for snacks and paying for gas and the bathroom. I don’t want to come out to you preaching to your huddled masses like that time in Santa Ana.”

“I know,” Sam whined. “How many times do I have to tell you those guys came up to me?”

“Watch your tone,” Danny whispered as he leaned in, his grasp returning to Sam’s jaw. “What you should know is that I want to get us through Alabama as fast as possible, okay? For you, Sammy, remember that.”

“Yeah,” Sam grumbled, removing the cigarette from his lips with a guilty frown. “I do know. Sorry, daddy.”

Sam batted his lashes again and watched Danny’s face flicker at his words. It was a cheap trick, but it certainly didn’t hurt to slip in Danny’s favorite nickname every once in a while to win his favor in a matter of seconds.

“It’s okay,” Danny instantly assured him, melting like he always did at the title Sam had appointed him. It only ever trickled into their daytime conversations when Sam was being truly appreciative. He gave Sam a quick kiss before letting him go and taking a step towards the gas station itself.

“5 minutes max, I promise.”

“Go already,” Sam grinned, waving with a royal flourish as Danny tossed him a wink and went through the chiming doors of the gas station, leaving Sam to take a drag from his cigarette and watch its smoke unfurl into the clear sky above. It was a still, sweltering summer day, the kind of familiar weather that kept Sam aware of their presence in his home state. There was no way to get to their destination of Danny’s Floridian hometown without going through Alabama, which Sam kept swearing up and down would be no issue to him, despite the both of them knowing that Sam would no doubt have at least one instance of grief. So far he was having no problems, and as he absently bounced his shoe and closed his eyes against the comforting sun, Sam started to actually feel optimistic.

After a minute, Sam became aware of the creeping feeling that he was being watched. With his eyes closed it felt unfounded, but when gut instinct and a rolling chill over his otherwise sweaty skin told him to peek and assess his surroundings, he realized that he had good reason for it.

Outside the gas station standing on the ledge of sidewalk facing the last pump was a young man dressed in a short sleeved, cream colored button down staring directly at Sam. His features were blurry because of the distance and because Sam only had one eye open to assess him, but Sam could see that he had his dark, shoulder length hair pulled into a neat, low ponytail and that he grasped a stack of pamphlets in his hands. This tidy, modest appearance hit a little too close to home for Sam and he scowled remembering when something similar used to be his daily attire. Danny had joked about Sam’s preaching, but he and his brothers really did used to stand on sidewalk corners like the guy in front of him now, waving their hands and crying out with adolescent passion. His scowl deepened and he closed his eyes.

Great, Sam thought in annoyance, pursing his lips against his cigarette. Rookie mistake to actually make eye contact with the guy. Now he’s gonna be over here any minute now asking me about my relationship with God. That’s gotta be the last thing I wanna think about right now. No, thank you.

Another few minutes passed and the creeping unease remained in the pit of Sam’s stomach and kept his ears perked uncomfortably. With an irritated sigh, he opened his eyes again and saw that, sure enough, the sidewalk preacher was still staring him down. He had even moved up a couple pumps, now only a few feet away from Sam. Doing his best not to look at the guy, Sam groaned and slid off the hood of the car, flicking his cigarette onto the pavement and crushing it under the rubber sole of his Converse. The man took this as an opportunity to hastily approach. Sam couldn’t help but give a theatrical sigh at the sight, leaning his head back to stare at the sky for another moment as a last ditch effort to ground himself before the inevitable nonsense.

He must have seen me and Danny, Sam concluded mentally. And now he’s here to save my soul from our sinful ways. Whoopee.

“Listen, man, I don’t want any trouble,” Sam started, already frustrated. “I know the spiel, okay? God didn’t work for me, it’s nothing personal.”

“Sammy?”

Sam’s head immediately jerked forward to properly face the man in front of him. In an instant, he was drowned in cold and felt his knees threaten to buckle. He struggled not to disassociate, breathing urgently through his nose as his lips shut and refused to part.

How could he have stared right into this face and not seen who it was in an instant? There was no else whose voice would crack with such specific inflection over his nickname; a nickname never given freely, mind you.

The round brown eyes constantly shadowed from worry and late night prayer. The combed dark hair and disciplined posture.

It was Jake, his brother, a thousand times over.

“Sammy,” Jake repeated. He sounded worn down and nearly pleading, seemingly just as baffled as Sam about seeing his brother before him.

Sam couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. His thoughts were thick with shame and gave no more room for that last little spark of hope that he could make it through Alabama unscathed. All he could do was gawk at Jake, who gawked right back at him with what he knew was a near identical expression to his own. He had always felt he existed as some warped mirror of Jake, and here he was, pressed up against the glass yet again when he thought he’d shattered it long ago.

“What are you doing here?” Sam whispered. With their hometown miles out from the provincial rest stop they were at, Sam was becoming increasingly convinced that Jake’s presence was a mirage brought on by the heat.

“What are you doing here?” Jake countered. His eyes were wild and darted over Sam head to toe. A hand came up to grasp his forehead, a nervous tic that Sam remembered (of course) and found oddly comforting to see after all this time.

“Gas,” Sam answered dumbly. It was true, but obviously not the answer Jake was looking for. Sam felt close to tears in a manner of seconds when hurt flashed over Jake’s face, clearly from Sam’s cold brevity and…well, everything.

“So, you have a car now?”

“I-”

“Come on, babe, what’d I say? No mingling!”

Sam had hardly registered the crisp bell of the gas station doors cheerily bursting open, revealing Danny with an armful of beers and wrapped sandwiches. He wore a bright smile as he usually did when he was with Sam, and Sam watched helplessly as it fell at the sight of Sam’s face painted with frozen desperation. Never taking his eyes off of Sam, Danny set his treasures down on his seat through the truck’s open window and was at Sam’s side in a second, a protective hand already up to shove Jake back if need be.

“Can I help you, man?” Danny asked curtly, glaring down at Jake with his dark eyebrows furrowed menacingly.

“Who is this guy?” Jake asked Sam in an amused tone, as if he truly couldn’t believe that Sam would go anywhere near Danny. When Jake had known him, it would have been a fair assumption for him to make, but now there was nothing further from the truth.

“Who are you?” Danny shot right back, adjusting to stand partly in front of Sam. His shield and sword all rolled into one. Sam felt grateful for his protection but knew it was unnecessary.

“Danny, this is, uh, my brother,” Sam introduced nervously, putting a hand on his bare arm and giving it a calming squeeze. “Jake, this is Danny.”

Jake held out a polite hand for Danny to shake, which he obliged with a mistrustful squint of his hazel eyes. In Sam’s stories about his childhood, Jake had never really been the enemy in any of them, save for silly childhood disputes. But his compliance never made him a hero either, and Sam knew that Danny was recalling all he could remember of Sam’s brothers from the rude way he pulled his hand back from the handshake. Jake didn’t appear to care at all, turning his gaze on Sam once more with a weak laugh.

“Have you been here this whole time?” Jake asked. “We read your note, of course, but forgive me for beginning to think the worst had happened when there was absolutely no trace of you anywhere. Mom started reading the news all the way up in Montgomery just in case there was mention of you.”

“No, uh, I’ve been traveling,” Sam explained, incapable of making eye contact. “Mostly stuck to the Southern states, but, yeah. We’re actually not staying, we’re headed to Danny's place in Florida right now.”

“Wow,” Jake remarked blankly, nodding thoughtfully. “Okay. We, huh?”

“Danny was kind enough to pick me up in Texas,” Sam clarified, nodding towards Danny. “We’ve stuck together since then.”

“Somebody had to keep him safe,” Danny said in a clipped voice, looking Jake up and down with an accusatory glare. Jake continued to not acknowledge Danny’s obvious distaste for him and pressed onwards. He gave another nod that turned into a disbelieving shake of the head.

“How in the world did you get to Texas with no ride? I have about a million questions, Sammy, forgive me for my impatience. I mean, for starters, you look…”

Jake gestured vaguely to Sam’s bare bones outfit composed of a maroon band tee more suited to Danny’s frame than his (which made sense, considering it was Danny’s), meaning it fell so low it almost entirely covered Sam’s very short shorts. It was a standard outfit for him now, but the last time Jake had seen Sam, he’d been dressed in something nearly identical to the outfit Jake wore, complete with the long tweed pants in the blistering heat. Sam’s hair, kept long to compliment his newfound appreciation for his androgynous features and to serve as something extra for Danny to pull when they were caught up in motel bedroom devotions, was pulled into low frizzy pigtails that Jake no doubt found bizarre.

For the first time in a long time, Sam began to feel self conscious.

“Different?” Sam asked, putting a hand on his hip. “Is that cool with you?”

“I…of course, it’s just…definitely different,” Jake agreed, a hint of venom finally tinting his words. “I hoped maybe you’d gone off to, you know, spread the good word, but I can tell from your outf-”

“You wouldn’t have thought that if you’d actually read my note like you said you did. You know why I left, Jake.”

“Were things really so terrible?” Jake prodded, his condescending tone now entirely betraying his bright attitude. “So horribly bad that you just had to leave behind your entire family who has done nothing but love you, just by the way, and an entire church that you had responsibility in? I can’t think of a single person in Shady Grove that doesn’t pray for you each and every day. I can tell you didn’t have faith in us, Sam, but we had faith in you. Still do.”

“I wasn’t happy,” Sam hissed, tears finally stinging his eyes as he stepped forward and got in his brother’s face, still clinging to Danny’s arm as he waited for his chance to intervene. “Nobody listened to me! Or, yeah, maybe I didn’t speak up enough, but even if I did, you all would’ve just heard what you wanted to hear.”

“Come to dinner, Sammy,” Jake begged, putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder with a firm grip. “Come to my place. I won’t even tell Mom and Dad, but you’ve got to see Josh, at least. He talks about you in every single sermon, he-”

“You’re not listening,” Sam groaned defeatedly, flushing hot with frustration and humiliation. He felt Danny’s anxious eyes on him while his brother’s thick skull and saccharine words regressed Sam into a childlike tantrum. Jake shook his head as if it weren’t true, as if Sam was behaving completely out of line. That was something Sam really did hate about his brother sometimes; he could make him feel so stupid for nothing at all.

“Why can’t you ever admit that there are things about home that don’t work?” Sam raged on. “Just ‘cause they work for you doesn’t mean they work for me. I had to go, Jake. I, I have to go.”

“Let’s go,” Danny urged, his voice uncharacteristically cool and tense. “Ready when you are.”

“I’m ready,” Sam snarled, glaring at Jake one more time before turning on his heel and stomping to the side door. Jake followed with a frustrated huff through his nose, grabbing Sam’s wrist and yanking him so hard he stumbled.

“I love you, Sam,” Jake said firmly, passion flashing in his amber eyes. “That’s why I’m tough on you, okay? Mom and Dad love you. Josh loves you. Come home.”

“No,” Sam barked, pulling his wrist away. “Get off, Jake, I’m fucking leaving.”

Jake stood and watched Sam climb into the passenger side and slam the door, pointedly staring through the windshield and ignoring his fuming brother as Danny hurriedly tossed the food and drink from his seat into the back. Jake smacked his palm against the door and won Sam’s attention again, who now saw that Jake’s furious expression had begun to devolve into tears.

“So, that’s it? That’s all you got to say?” Jake cried. “So high and mighty you can’t even say you love us anymore?”

“Of course I love you, stupid!” Sam yelled, grabbing an empty plastic water bottle out of the cup holder and smacking it on Jake’s head. “I just can’t love you here!”

Jake grabbed the water bottle out of Sam’s hand and tossed it right back at him, ducking when Sam fully threw it through the window. Jake crouched out of Sam’s reach as he pulled a pen out of his pocket and scribbled something urgently on one of his many disheveled pamphlets. Despite Sam’s flurry of smacking hands, Jake managed to shove it through the window and onto Sam’s lap.

“That’s the address and that’s what time I’ll have dinner on the table,” Jake explained, his teary eyes flashing as he pointed at the pamphlet with vigor. “There will be two places set for you and your, your Danny, and I really hope to see you both!”

“I really hope you like disappointment!” Sam hollered, heart hammering like a jackrabbit as he and Jake launched into a new round of arguing.

Unable to stand back and watch anymore, Danny rolled up Sam’s window for him and finally began to pull out of the gas station. Jake yelled something as they sped out of the lot, and Sam let out a frustrated scream in response. He was unable to look back at his brother, instead electing to fold at the waist and let out another muffled scream against his bare legs.

Danny, frazzled from the sibling explosion that had just set off in front of his eyes, was honestly unsure on what the hell to do. He settled for a soothing hand on Sam’s back, rubbing calming circles and asking Sam to breathe and settle down in the most serene voice he could manage. Sam listened and managed to subdue his roaring need to shriek out his frustrations, but he stayed crumpled over with his head between his thighs. As always, Sam’s complete and utter silence was a million times worse to Danny, and he debated whether or not to ask him something just to get both their minds on a new track.

“So, you wanna go to that dinner, or…?”

Yeah, Danny regretted that the second it left his mouth.

Sam’s silence persisted and Danny swallowed nervously, trying to appreciate the sparse scenery that surrounded the highway so that his brain had something else to do.

5 entire minutes passed without Sam saying anything, which was probably the longest he had ever gone in the year Danny had traveled with him. He was never this quiet, not even in his sleep. But frankly, Danny couldn’t blame him. Danny’s heart broke for Sam, and he bit back regretful tears thinking of how he should’ve just stepped between them and pulled Sam into the truck before Jake got a chance to say anything at all. After another excruciating minute, he figured there wasn’t much use in spiraling, so Danny decided to pull over on the side of the empty road and turn off the truck.

“What can I do to help you, Sam?” Danny asked in a hushed voice, his hand returning to Sam’s back and tilting his head to try and catch a glimpse of Sam’s face.

Sam thought for a second, sniffling wetly before finally turning from the valley of his legs to miserably look up at Danny. Danny’s heart sank at the sight of his lashes heavy with tears and his nose and cheeks painted poppy red.

“I don’t know,” Sam muttered, throat scratchy from exertion. “Take me out behind the barn and shoot me.”

“Sam,” Danny sighed at his dramatics, reaching over Sam’s head to click open the glove box and pull out a clean handkerchief. He presented it to Sam, who made no move to grab it, so he rested it on top of his head with a little smile.

“Thanks,” Sam mumbled, still unmoving and sniffing pathetically. His gaze was blank and defeated and his face was still dotted with tears, which Danny lovingly swept away with a curled knuckle.

“That was a lot,” Danny commented steadily, still trying to pry a productive conversation out of the ever stubborn Sam. “Definitely wouldn’t have picked that station if I had known your people would be anywhere near it.”

“He really shouldn’t have been,” Sam complained. “Shady Grove is, like, 10 miles out closer to the coast. But it’s not completely unheard of for him to go to the most random fucking places for his sidewalk preaching. Divine timing, I guess. Great.”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Danny whispered, mirroring Sam’s posture as best he could to try and meet Sam’s eye. When he did, Sam’s bottom lip quivered and he clasped a hand over his face, letting out an exasperated groan that filled the entire cabin of the truck.

“I’m so sorry,” Sam apologized, his voice shaking with frustration. “You shouldn’t have had to see me like that. Fuck, he just makes me so crazy, it’s like I don’t even know what happens.”

“Don’t apologize,” Danny insisted, running his fingers along the soft hair at Sam’s temples to try and ground him. “He came at you pretty hard. I know he’s your brother and everything, but if you gave me the go ahead, I would’ve knocked him upside the head with the way he was talking to you.”

“I wish you had,” Sam grumbled. There was a sore pang when he said it, and Sam found himself falling quiet and staring into space again. “But, like…”

Danny had spent enough time with Sam to feel confident in his ability to read his mind, and from the mournful, longing glaze over Sam’s eyes, he made an educated guess as to where Sam’s head was at.

“But, like…you still kinda want to go to dinner tonight?” Danny asked, attempting to finish Sam’s sentence.

Sam let out another theatrical groan and answered by gently banging his forehead against the pamphlet on his lap, which doubled as a nod in the affirmative. Despite the anxiety that the prospect of a dinner with Sam’s brothers stirred in Danny’s chest, he was happy to do whatever it took to get Sam through the night without trying to throw himself out of the truck.

“Yeah, okay, we’ll do that,” Danny assured him, brushing his fingers against Sam’s flushed cheek. “And the second you say we need to go, we’ll go. Does that sound good?”

“Mmhm,” Sam hummed against the paper.

Danny watched Sam’s dejected body language for another minute before taking action again. With a quick jerk of the reclining lever, he laid his seat back and scooted until he was sitting in the backseat. After landing with a bounce on the leather, Danny shifted the beers and sandwiches once again while Sam sat up and gave him a quizzical look.

“What?” Sam asked simply, a confused smile very slowly seeping into his expression as Danny settled in the middle of the backseat and opened up his arms.

“Someone needs a hug,” Danny determined, beckoning Sam into his lap with a cheeky grin.

“You are so goddamn corny,” Sam whined. Despite his rolling eyes, he quickly scrambled out of his seat and clumsily landed in Danny’s embrace. Danny’s arms wrapped around him in an instant and Sam unraveled completely at the comfort, throwing his arms around Danny’s neck as he sank into his broad chest and nuzzled against Danny’s freckled shoulder. Danny held him tight and pressed kisses to the crown of Sam’s head as he felt the erratic cadence of Sam’s heart beating against his own begin to even out into a stable thrum.

“Feeling a little better?” Danny asked tentatively. Sam replied with a muffled hum against his skin and Danny laughed, smoothing the loose hairs that had escaped Sam’s pigtails and were waving wildly in the humidity. Sam pressed a kiss to his shoulder and Danny let out a happy hum of his own. Danny gave one of Sam’s pigtails a gentle tug to tilt his head back and met him halfway, closing his eyes with a smile that he pressed against Sam’s already puckered lips. While they got caught up in a lazy kiss, Danny carefully worked to slide the elastics from Sam’s hair and combed through his impressive tresses with his long fingers. Sam sighed into Danny’s mouth at the relaxing sensation, cupping Danny’s face and slipping his tongue into the equation while Danny indulged in a smug smile.

“I feel better,” Sam finally admitted, giggling when Danny mapped a trail of kisses from his jaw down his neck. “Much better, actually.”

“Yeah? You feel as good as you did last night?” Danny purred against his neck, grinning and bearing his teeth against his skin when Sam scoffed. Danny had found that this was another surefire way to keep Sam’s mind out of a dark place; tease the hell out of him.

“Danny!” Sam squealed, batting his shoulders and squirming in his lap. “Shut up!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, who was the one talking about legs over shoulders no less than an hour ago?”

“I-”

“It was definitely you.”

“Hearsay!” Sam laughed. “Tell it to my lawyer.”

When Danny lifted his head from his throat to smile at him, he could see the rosy glow had already returned to Sam’s face. Danny’s heart fluttered at the thought that he could be the person to do that to someone, much less someone as wholly deserving of joy as Sam.

“You wanna hear something funny?” Sam chuckled while Danny leaned back against the leather seat, one hand on Sam’s waist and the other still fussing with his hair.

“Hm?”

“We didn’t even get gas.”

Danny froze and blinked blankly.

“...Fuck, you’re right!”

Sam’s raucous laugh filled the truck as Danny shifted and looked out the back window, staring longingly at the pump somewhere in the distance behind them despite it being entirely out of his sight.

“Damn. There goes my 15 bucks,” Danny grumbled.

“You only put 15 bucks on the pump? Cheap bitch.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you have anything you’d like to contribute to the gas fund? Or would you like to keep dipping your sticky little fingers into it and spending it on cigarettes and cotton candy?”

“Absolutely,” Sam smiled triumphantly. “I mean, worse comes to worse, we can always stop in some seedy little town and get me a job working the pole. We’d have gas money for a year.”

“Fuck no,” Danny blurted. Sam cackled again when Danny bulged his eyes at the idea, his grip subconsciously tightening on his waist. “No, no, absolutely not.”

“Jealous?” Sam flirted, tapping the tip of Danny’s nose and winking. He rolled his hips as if he were straddling a stripper pole and Danny let out a suffocated groan at the sensation. Not allowing himself to dive into the salacious imagery Sam had conjured, Danny used his leverage on Sam’s hips to hold him still.

“No, Sam, I’m super into the idea of you being half naked on stage in front of a bunch of podunk perverts,” Danny replied sarcastically, swatting his ass. “Of course I’m jealous, you little shit.”

“Well, you don’t have to be, ‘cause I’d never,” Sam cooed, clearly still delighted by Danny’s knee jerk reaction. “You know damn well I’m all yours.”

“Yeah, you are,” Danny hummed, chasing another kiss and mumbling against Sam’s lips. “And you know damn well you’re safe as long as you’re with me, right?”

“Since the day we met,” Sam confirmed, heart fluttering and racing as he recalled the first time he’d seen Danny. This was something he did almost every night to soothe himself to sleep, a practice that had replaced the psalm recitations he’d done for years after he steadily found them less and less effective at calming him. He’d picture Danny, nothing short of drop dead gorgeous in a ratty flannel and his combed out curls pulled into a ponytail, with his head tilted to the side as he regarded Sam and his pathetic little suitcase. Frozen in place, Sam’s thumb had stayed pointing up in the air for a beat too long as he assessed the amusing contrast of the gorgeous stranger in such a beat up hunk of junk. In the same way that something had urged Danny to drive through the thoroughfare in the first place, something had given Sam complete assurance that if he got into the truck with this total stranger, it would be the start of his life as opposed to the end.

Despite the fact that they were far from being on speaking terms, Sam couldn’t help but thank God for it.

“Good,” Danny smiled. “Remember, the second you want out tonight, we’re outta there. You call the shots.”

“Don’t I always?”

Danny raised an eyebrow at Sam and Sam smiled with faux innocence, tucking a strand of hair behind Danny’s ear while Danny sighed fondly. Without the other knowing, both of them felt a sudden urge to tell the other one something. Something that had been on both of their minds for a long time. While it didn’t really need to be confirmed when the time they spent together spoke volumes about how they felt, it still had yet to be said. But Danny was worried Sam was a little too vulnerable at the moment to process the impact it might have, and Sam was worried Danny wouldn’t say it back, so they let the next few minutes pass with quiet chatting and kissing instead. Not that they could complain about that.

“What time is it?” Danny eventually asked, answering his own question by looking over Sam’s shoulder at the radio’s clock. “4:30ish? How long do you reckon it’ll take to get to Jake’s?”

“Only like 20 minutes if we backtrack and take some shortcuts,” Sam explained. “I’ll be our fearless navigator, of course.”

“That’ll be a first,” Danny muttered, which earned him a light slap on the arm. “Well, shit, what should we do for an hour? Anything fun to do in glorious Baldwin county, Mr. Navigator?”

Sam stared off into space for a moment, seemingly deep in thought as his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pushed out into a focused pout. However, when Sam’s eyes eventually fell on the space between their bodies and his eyebrow arched suggestively, Danny realized that he had fallen for an act.

“Unbelievable,” Danny groaned as Sam smiled flirtatiously and pawed at his belt. “I thought maybe you knew some roadside attractions nearby we could go to. I should’ve known better.”

“I mean, we’re already back here,” Sam purred, sliding a hand up the front of Danny’s muscle tee. “And no one’s driven by since we pulled over.”

“Unbelievable,” Danny repeated, shaking his head slightly but obliging entirely when Sam’s lips found his and his hands made quick work of pulling off Danny’s shirt.

This reckless nerve and seeming insatiability was one of many side effects of Sam’s newfound confidence. Ever since that inciting night at the motel where Sam had stayed under Danny until the sun came up and writhed nonstop from nothing more than kisses and hands on his hips, he had become hopelessly addicted to Danny’s touch. It was fully Danny’s fault for indulging him as often as he did, but he really had tried to take it as slow as he possibly could. Danny knew that Sam had no prior experience and very little knowledge of the body when it came to the pleasure it could provide, and he had wanted to give him a low stakes, enjoyable education.

However, this had become increasingly more difficult when he found Sam crawling into his lap time and time again with professedly innocent questions, all of which were whispered into his ear with hot breath that sent chills down his spine. Sam had insisted on hands-on demonstrations and begged so sweetly, which made it nearly impossible for Danny to continue the patient pace he had planned for him. This eventually cultivated in a “celebration” their first night in Los Angeles where Danny had caved entirely and awarded Sam his sacrament. He’d crossed the line between the divine and the Earth, called Sam his little lamb, and awoke the next morning with Sam’s head on his chest and his virginity (however conceptual that may be) locked up safe in the parts of his mind reserved for the most sacred sentiments. Deep down, Danny knew he’d be trying in vain for the rest of his days trying to replicate the ecstasy of truly feeling Sam for the first time. Fingernails dug so deep in his biceps he’d emerged with a single crescent moon scar, Sam’s hips bucking to accommodate Danny’s stuttering push into him, a pounding fist on the wall from outraged neighbors being drowned out from the rattle of the bedposts…that was a high Danny was going to chase to no avail. But he was more than happy to try.

Plus, how could he ever say no to Sam? Maybe someday he’d regret letting Sam get whatever he wanted, but from the way Sam looked unbuttoning his jeans with his rosy bottom lip tucked triumphantly between his teeth, Danny was pretty sure regret was the last thing he was feeling.

They were in for a hell of a night, so why not get as close to heaven before then?

Taglist: @holdingup-fallingsky @milojames16 @spark-my-nature

#oooooooh the plot #oh the plot of it all #gvf #greta van fleet #danny wagner #sam kiszka #sanny gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van art #karoufiction

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shooting-love-arrows · 11 months ago

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Yandere!Industrialist admires you as you work?? Okay bet.

Colored version in the works, for now take this lovesick idiot 💞

Dear @astrosidiac,

Oh. My. Stars! Your fan art is so precise! Man, this face screams: "Lovesick idiot of a yandere here! Notice (and marry) him!" (He's so fine too!)

I want you to know your fan art is great and I appreciate how you did it in the first place. It means a lot to me that you've decided to share it with me (and this community). It's so wonderful and I love it! Awesome job! <3 *sends you a lot of hearts becaouse I am so damn moved by your fan art* Thank you <3 <3 Hope to hear from you soon and have a wonderful day (even if it's not daytime)! P.S There will be a colored version? You're spoiling me! Take your time and remember to take care of yourself too!

@shooting-love-arrows

#s.l.arrows answers <3 #s.l.arrows fan art <3

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its-short-for-jackalope · 3 months ago

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TRANSMISSION 13!

oh man I am feeling very AAAAAAAAAAAAA so imma just pop my rambles under the cut in case anybody hasn't watched yet, lol

1. okay right off the bat I was surprised to see that M.A.I.A.'s room looks so much brighter than it has in the past??? damn, she REALLY needed a new light bulb, huh?

Still got a crack in that window, though... 😑 C'mon Matt, it'll let all the pests in. no fog allowed!!!

images are from transmissions for TGMH, TGOA, & today

granted, the room from the TGMH era has a space view so it makes sense that it's so dark, but I think it's interesting that there's definitely a difference between the room in TGOA and the room today, despite them both having a nice daytime view out the window.

does this ✨️mean✨️ anything? maybe not but I think it's interesting, especially considering how bright this episode's cover is. perhaps we could extrapolate something about coming out of the shadows and into the light of discovery, having hope for brighter days, but idk. I'm not gonna think too hard about it right now, lol.

also I just love Jackie's art and want to live in this room. M.A.I.A., do you want a roommate??? I can bring a dehumidifier to keep a certain foggy bastard from messing with you—

2. okay so we have more confirmation that Rose is gonna be two weeks older than Samuel, which is. agh. 🥲😭 /pos

Matt also tells us the episode kind of takes place immediately after TGOA—

"Some of us traveled through time. ...Again."

—so I think we're definitely gonna have some interesting time-hopping. dunno how that's gonna play out, if we'll have flashbacks or whole parallel timelines happening, but I am very excited to see! ...er, listen!

3. the arrrrrrrrt oh my god it's so pretty! I love Jackie's scenery and I am SO EXCITED to see what else she's done when we get more transmissions and/or the episode broadcasts!

the cow is so cute, I love the cow. i hope somebody pets the cow.

I wish I could pet the cow.

also hey, are those buildings for/from Travelers or is there anybody else living on Lincoln Island???

4. it's neat that the episode is building off of the setting of The Mysterious Island without following the events. The calm before the storm Inspiration comes in many forms!

I actually don't know the original story at all but these places sound interesting! A house made of granite, a towering volcano, a grotto with an incredible secret.... sounds like great staging for our next episode. and some good Jackie art.

I wonder if the grotto's secret has anything to do with a certain Searcher captain whose whereabouts are currently unknown. 👀

5. gotta wait till the next transmission to hear about Ahlaam and Dakkar and any other characters—hopefully we'll get to hear a little something about my beloved Captain Addison Arvad???? 👉🏻👈🏻

#okay thats all for now i think #why did i number these? idk my brain is scrambled between pulp excitement and children being distracting #but quick question mr dahan how am i supposed to do anything now??? 😂#man i love pulp #so excited for episode 4 #jack jabbers #pulp musicals #pulp musicals 4 #pulp musicals tsits #the searcher in the shadows #tsits #pulp musicals maia #maia #m.a.i.a.#maia transmission #transmission 13 #pulp musicals theory

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angelic-writer · 4 months ago

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Hail True Body - (My) God's Not Dead

Holy shit, another one!! I'm on a roll! This time, I'm trying out Hail True Body by @mustangs-flames

The prompt is by the lovely @serickswrites who never fails to rip our hearts out. <3

This stars an AU I've been thinking of for a while now. I hope it's worthwhile.

CW: Captivity, Torture, Restraints, Forced to watch, Drowning, Attempted CPR, Escape, Referenced Character Death, Referenced injury of a child, Referenced toxic masculinity

Excerpt from John 11

The Death of Lazarus

Now a man named Lazarus was sick. He was from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. (This Mary, whose brother Lazarus now lay sick, was the same one who poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair.) So the sisters sent word to Jesus, “Lord, the one you love is sick.”

When he heard this, Jesus said, “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.” Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days, and then he said to his disciples, “Let us go back to Judea.”

“But Rabbi,” they said, “a short while ago the Jews there tried to stone you, and yet you are going back?”

Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Anyone who walks in the daytime will not stumble, for they see by this world’s light. It is when a person walks at night that they stumble, for they have no light.”

After he had said this, he went on to tell them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up.”

His disciples replied, “Lord, if he sleeps, he will get better.” Jesus had been speaking of his death, but his disciples thought he meant natural sleep.

So then he told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.”

Then Thomas (also known as Didymus) said to the rest of the disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”

The night sky was dotted with stars. In the barren plains of Edensfield, they all joined together to make a cluster, a light show made from the heavens. From a God that Mark thought he prayed to. It would've been a pretty sight if he and Cesar were out and about, enjoying themselves, not having a care in the world. But now, as he dragged his friend's body out into the field, he wondered if the stars above were supposed to mock him, taunting him of a future he could've had with Cesar.

"Look, we made it, Ces." Mark said breathlessly as he reached the edge of Mr. Marcus' property. He clutched Cesar tightly, fearful of dropping him or leaving him behind. "We made it to freedom. Just like you said."

Mark stopped walking, the weight of everything he had endured finally hitting him. "I'm free." He whispered as he stared into Cesar's upturned face. "You deserved to be free, too." He said as the overwhelming sadness he had started to feel back at the house began to take over.

"You... deserved it, too..." Mark repeated as a lone tear dripped onto Cesar's face.

The shorter boy's eyes were half-lidded, his gaze glassy and empty. His grey lips were parted slightly, and he was so terribly, terribly still. The kind of stillness that reminded him of that event. When they went to see her...

Mark dropped to his knees as he began to sob. He hadn't been fast enough. Hadn't done enough. Hadn't acted soon enough. He sat back against the tree, Cesar's limp body cradled in his lap. His heart was racing so fast, he thought it would stop at any minute. He wouldn't mind that. If he could at least see Cesar again, he'll gladly let his heart fail.

Mr. Marcus was their old high school history teacher who was obsessed with Greek mythology. He got along really well with the students, especially Cesar, to the point where people started calling him a teacher's pet. He had told them that they were gonna do great things when they grew up. He especially had faith in Cesar pursuing a medical degree. So when a mysterious figure pulled Cesar into a dark alley, knocking him out with chloroform and hit Mark over the head with a pipe, they had no idea who it would be.

They awoke several hours later in a dark room, lit by a single candle. There were handcuffs on their wrists, preventing them from any escape. There was the smell of rotting flesh coming from somewhere in the house. Didn't Mr. Marcus have a wife that he wouldn't stop talking about? He loved her, right? So why isn't she there? Surely, they would notice two high school graduates locked up in the house and call someone, right?

The figure walked in front of the candle and they could see a familiar face, illuminated by the candle.

"Mr. Marcus?!" Mark had shouted. "W-What the hell- What are you doing here?!"

Mr. Marcus tilted his head. His face looked like it had blood all over. His eyes had heavy bags under them like he hadn't slept in so long. "Hmm... That's a good question. What am I doing here? Well, I'm here because... Well, I had a bit of a revelation."

"Revelation? W-What do you mean?"

"Oh come on! Don't try to play dumb! Y'know, the one your little friend had."

Cesar shuddered, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Wait. So... You..."

"Yep. Those voices won't stop talking, telling me that something was wrong with her, that I couldn't trust her. I... I..."

Mark started to quake. "You... killed her...?"

Cesar let out a choked sob.

"I-I had to. One of them probably killed her and was wearing her skin! I... had no choice! I had to!! Oh god, the blood... I-It's gonna be hard to clean up, but I'll take it."

"Why...?" Cesar sobbed. "Why did you kill Mrs. Marcus?! Y-You loved her! You wouldn't shut up about her every day! You gave her flowers, took her out to dinner and everything! You were so happy! So why?! Why do all of this?! We never did anything!!"

"Because... Everything was a lie. They told me all I needed to know. How God abandoned us and that this world is doomed to fail. I cannot trust anyone. Anything. So I have to protect myself from them. You know what I'm talking about, don't you, Mark?"

Of course Mark knew what he was talking about. The mimics. He had encountered one when he found Cesar bleeding out on the floor.

"In fact... The reason why I kidnapped you two... is because they told me to..."

Mark blinked. "....What...?"

"Mr. Marcus, you don't have to do this! Y-You can fight this! You have to! We can help you!"

"So you can turn me in for killing my wife? I don't think so. In fact, I don't think you're really Mark and Cesar. I think you're just wearing their skin."

"N-No, we're not! We lived through our attacks!!" Cesar screamed.

"Yeah! We have proof! You can look at Cesar! He's living proof!" Mark chimed in.

Mr. Marcus sighed. "You must think you're so smart trying to get me to let my guard down just because you have simulated scars? Well, you can't fool me. No one can. Not anymore."

And so, he left the room. For the first several hours, they were left alone in the dark, handcuffed together. Mark tried to ignore the smell of death and closed his eyes, muttering prayers to God. That did little to calm his nerves, but a warm hand snapped him out of his thoughts. Warm hands against bandaged ones. "Hey, Mark. I-It's okay. We're gonna get out of this, okay?"

Even with the trauma of killing his own mother, he still had his optimism. They escaped a mimic attack at the house before. This was no different. How confident he was... "M-Maybe we can figure out a way before he even comes back." He whispered, leaning his head on Mark's shoulder.

"I think it's going to take some time to figure our way out of this. We're handcuffed together in the dark somewhere we don't even know."

"We'll make it to freedom, you'll see."

Cesar had been so confident. He was so confident that he would escape with Mark. He was confident that they would be free before Mr. Marcus can come back. And he was confident that Mr. Marcus wouldn't hurt them that bad.

Cesar was wrong.

Mr. Marcus had returned after several hours, flicking the lights, revealing the contents of the room. Mark's mouth had gone dry when he saw the rusty bathtub in the corner of the room. Mr. Marcus silently filled the tub as Mark's heart pounded. Only one word came to mind: baptism.

"Which one of you should I start with, eh?" Their old teacher asked quietly. After a minute of silence, too long for Mark's comfort, his eyes settled on the taller boy. "How about you? If you really are a mimic, you'll come back from this, right?"

Cesar glared at Mr. Marcus. "Over my dead body."

He looked to Cesar. "Fine. Then we'll start with you. This will be your first extracurricular lesson."

And that was all it took. Mark screamed and tried to grab onto Cesar as the teacher uncuffed Cesar from him. He scrambled after Mr. Marcus as he dragged Cesar to the tub by the hair. "LET HIM GO!! LET HIM GO!!" He roared.

"None of that." Mr. Marcus snarled as he kicked Mark in the face.

He stumbled to the floor, his cheek throbbing. He sat there helplessly, trying to figure out a way out of the cuffs. If these cuffs weren't around the bastard's neck first. They were loose, but Mr. Marcus would see. He had to wait until he left them alone again.

Mr. Marcus plunged Cesar's head in and out of the tub several times, Cesar kicking and fighting each time, but he didn't stop. He shoved Cesar's head below the surface once more. The way his limbs flailed about wasn't a good sign for Mark. He had to do something fast!

'LET HIM GO, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!! I'LL KILL YOU!! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!" His eyes were wide with rage, his lips twisted into an unnatural shape, his nails dug into his palms, breaking skin and drawing blood. He was like a wild animal.

Mr. Marcus either didn't hear him or acted like he wasn't there.

Cesar's frantic scrabbling grew weaker and weaker until he stilled.

"CESAR!!!" Mark screamed as he watched Cesar's arms fall limply to his side.

Mr. Marcus blinked, relaxing his grip on Cesar's hair. He looked confused, the crazed look he had earlier disappearing. "C... Cesar?" He lifted his head up and looked at him. He flinched and dropped him to the floor. He stumbled backwards, his body starting to violently shake before he dropped to his knees. He looked at his hands which were still covered in his wife's blood. "Wh... What... What did I just...?"

He looked to Cesar who was lying limply on the floor. "D-Did I just...?" Tears started to fall down his face, his breathing quickening before he began to hyperventilate. "O-Oh god!! Oh my god!! I-I didn't mean- Cesar, I'm sorry!! I didn't mean-!!" He covered his mouth to muffle his sobs. He finally realized what he had done, though it was far too late.

¬ You killed him, Marcus. ¬

Mark and the teacher froze. That voice...

¬ You killed your precious student. ¬

It was here. And it had seized its moment.

Dark shadows wrapped around Mr. Marcus as he looked behind him. A creature beyond human comprehension was standing before him, black hands gripping his shoulders. A mimic. It followed him. Followed them. A pair of eyes looked at Mark and said in a voice he knew very well.

¬ Don't look, Mark. ¬

He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he heard his former teacher screaming into the endless night. Screaming for help which will never come. Screaming until finally, it was silent. Mark opened his eyes.

There was no one. No Mr. Marcus, no mimic - just Cesar who laid on his side, his back to Mark. Water streamed from his body, staining the wood around him. "Hold on, Ces. I'm almost there. Hold on."

He slipped the cuffs quickly and stumbled forward. "Cesar?"

Cesar didn't reply.

Mark shook his shoulder. "Come on, Ces. We don't know how long we have until that thing comes back. We have to go." He said urgently.

Cesar's body shook with the motion, but he didn't respond. "Cesar?" Mark whispered as he rolled his friend onto his bad. "OH GOD NO!!" He screamed as he stared into Cesar's lifeless eyes.

No, no, not again! NO!!

"Please, Ces, please!!" Mark said as he started compressions. "Please don't leave me. We're getting out of here. Please, c'mon!!"

His medical knowledge was fuzzy, but he knew Cesar had been studying. He wanted to go to med school, wanted to be a nurse. He had a bright future ahead of him where he had nothing. Mark, you fucking moron! You should've listened! You should've let him go! You had Josiah! You could've come to him, but no. You just had to blow up at the one person who cared about you. Why are you such a selfish asshole?!

Please God, please. Don't take him away from me.

He counted to fifteen and blew into his lungs. His lips were slack, but they were warm. Still there. Still has a chance.

"C'mon, Cesar, please... You have to live. Please!" His hands sunk down into his chest, his ribs bending inwards. I think I'm doing this right. Cesar's body shaking like a ragdoll and the clicking of his ribs made him sick. It felt like an absolute nightmare, trying to get his heart beating and breathing expired air into his dying friend. Never in his life would he imagine doing this to anyone, let alone his friend. It felt like he was playing God in that moment. Cesar's life was in his hands.

"Cesar, c'mon! C'mon, you bastard!! Breathe!" He slammed his fist into his chest before he continued. He didn't know how long he tried to revive Cesar. He didn't know how long he pounded on his chest. How long he begged Cesar to breathe. How he pleaded with the universe to bring his friend back.

He just knew that eventually, he stopped because Cesar was dead. That there was nothing he could do to save him. That the only thing he could do was save himself and get Cesar's body to safety.

"You deserved it, too." Mark repeated as he stroked Cesar's still wet hair. "Oh Ces... I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything... God, please, no... Please, Cesar, please..." Mark knew he would never recover from this. Would never recover from watching Cesar drown. Would never recover from failing to revive Cesar. And he would never recover from staring into Cesar's lifeless eyes. And as Mark stared down into the face he loved above all others, he realized he deserved it.

A punishment for being selfish.

--------

On his arrival, Jesus found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. Now Bethany was less than two miles from Jerusalem, and many Jews had come to Martha and Mary to comfort them in the loss of their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him, but Mary stayed at home.

“Lord,” Martha said to Jesus, “if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.”

Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”

Martha answered, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

“Yes, Lord,” she replied, “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world.”

After she had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary aside. “The Teacher is here,” she said, “and is asking for you.” When Mary heard this, she got up quickly and went to him. Now Jesus had not yet entered the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. When the Jews who had been with Mary in the house, comforting her, noticed how quickly she got up and went out, they followed her, supposing she was going to the tomb to mourn there.

When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. “Where have you laid him?” he asked.

“Come and see, Lord,” they replied.

Jesus wept.

Then the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”

But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

--------

Mark and Cesar were laying in a field, listening to a song from Queen. Freshly bloomed flowers swayed gently in the breeze accompanied by the birds chirping. It was a few days after they graduated and they were enjoying the summer breeze. Mark played with his cross while his brain absorbed the lyrics.

"Hey Mark." Cesar had suddenly said.

"Yeah?"

"I've been wondering... What is it like to die?"

Mark blinked. "Sheesh. Dark, dude."

"It's been something that has been on my mind lately. Ever since Emile died, I've been thinking... Was he suffering during his last days? Was he able to feel some sort of peace when we were there for him?" He sighed. "I dunno. And considering my mom's job, it caused me to think."

Mark looked at the sky, at the whisping clouds. What was Lola's job like at the hospital? Since she's on night shift, she had to have seen a lot of shit. Broken bones, torn open wounds, mangled bodies from accidents - She had to have a strong stomach to deal with all of that.

"I think... You never really know when you die. Though if you do good things, when you die, God will let you into heaven. It's just how I think, y'know?"

"Of course you'd say that. Well, if this God you're speaking of lets me in, then I hope I don't get kicked out for not being straight enough."

Mark chuckled. He stretched his hand up to the sky, wondering if he could take the clouds and make them into any shape he wants. Death was one thing that was a constant on his mind lately. Now that they were out of high school, he had no idea what life held for him. Would he stay with Cesar forever in this small town? Maybe live in a dingy apartment trying to start up a band? The thought of it made him smile.

Cesar was the only thing he held onto in life. His best friend, his universe, his God.

He closed his eyes as Bohemian Rhapsody came on.

That memory was all but tainted by that terrible argument. And the screams for help when Cesar unexpectedly called in the middle of the night. And the blood...

He almost lost him that night, but they fought off death. They clung onto each other like a lifeline, never wanting to let each other go. But, like all things in life, death had to come eventually. And it eventually claimed Cesar.

Mark clung onto the hand that was beginning to grow cold. The hand that was so warm before. A sign of his failure. He wanted him to wake up in that moment, to tell him how sorry he was for being selfish, for holding him back, for ruining his life, anything! If it meant hearing his voice again.

He was not a good person. Despite what Cesar, Cian and Josiah said, he was not a good person. He killed his parents, he hurt his sister, his grandparents hated him for not being man enough, he hurt Cesar. Do these things make him a good person? In a way, Cesar dying was like God or whatever punishing him for his sins, his transgressions. Because of his actions, he will never be happy with Cesar.

Never have the happy family he wanted.

He's never meant to find happiness. He will always be alone like he deserves.

Lord, if you had been there, Cesar would not have died.

He thought he felt something squeeze his hand. He looked to see he was still holding Cesar's limp hand. What was he supposed to do now? He can't live without him. He can't. There were still so many things to atone for. So many things to do before he could finally be happy. He rested his forehead onto Cesar's, still feeling the droplets of water as he closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ces... I couldn't do anything to help you... Please forgive me... I'm so so-"

Something squeezed his hand again. He snapped his eyes open and looked. Really looked.

There it was again. Somehow, Cesar squeezed Mark's hand. But how? He was dead, right? Was it just a muscle spasm? He put his face to Cesar's mouth to check if there was something.

There was a faint gurgle emanating from his throat, his lips twitching in an ineffectual attempt to breathe. "Cesar!!" Pressing his ear to his chest, he could hear something. It was a heartbeat. Too faint and slow, but it was there.

Oh shit...

"H-Hold on! Let me help you!" Laying him back down, he tilted his head back, pinched his nose and breathed into his mouth once more. He had a newfound sense of purpose now. He had Cesar and he was going to keep him there, mimics be damned.

He started compressing his chest again, counting to fifteen before briefly stopping. No, this number is too low. I have to go higher. What's the highest number? Twenty? Thirty? Yeah, thirty sounds good. He began to push past what he was initially taught, not caring if he had to break a few bones. All he wanted was for Cesar to live.

Cesar's hand twitched a few times as he continued. He will bring him back. This time, he was sure he will. He will get to have pancakes again. He will get to atone for what he did for hurting Cesar that day. Everything will be okay.

The sky was beginning to grow light, the individual stars going out one by one. The death of one life and the birth of another. The old lives they knew died on October 24, 1993. But with the rising sun, they will forge a new life.

Water came out of Cesar's mouth, but he still wasn't breathing. Mark was beginning to grow exhausted. Dammit, how did they make this so tough? Once more, he continued breathing into him, hoping, praying it will be enough.

He will make sure his God will not die.

After what felt like an eternity of Mark pumping blood through his friend's body, he finally responded. Cesar started coughing up water and rolled onto his side as he gasped.

"Ces!! Cesar!! Hey, hey hey hey, you're okay. You're okay now. J-Just breathe. I got you now." Mark stroke his hair as Cesar wheezed. Even though he just got brought back, he was in lousy shape. His skin was pale, his eyes looked sunken in and he was fading in and out of consciousness. "Hold on, let me get a phone-" He began to stand up, but Cesar grabbed his arms.

"No. Please... Don't go... Please..." He whimpered, his voice so quiet, it was like a little kid. Mark held him in his arms, carding his bandaged fingers through his hair.

"I'm not leaving you. Not this time. I promise." He rocked him gently, humming a song his mother used to sing for him. Cesar buried his face in his chest, his body relaxing as he slipped into unconsciousness. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around him, hoping to keep him warm. He will stay here for a while longer, then he'll find a payphone and call an ambulance.

What would he say to them? That their history teacher kidnapped them and almost killed Cesar, then got killed my a mimic? He'll figure it out later. Right now, he needs to calm the racing of his heart.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard police sirens coming towards the house. Looking up, he could see a familiar figure coming out of the squad car along with someone else. Cian. Mark began waving his arms and cried out, "Hey!! We're here!! Help!! My friend needs an ambulance!!"

Cian followed the direction of Mark's voice, barking orders to the other officers to get the EMTs. When he reached the tree that Mark and Cesar were at, he was shocked at what he was seeing.

Mark was holding Cesar in his arms in a loving embrace, his face wet with tears as the shorter boy wheezed. The sun was starting to peek over the horizon, causing the rays to shine behind him, creating a halo. A perfect recreation of a holy man holding a man who had previously died but was brought back to life.

--------

"So let me get this straight. He was dead?" Cian asked.

"Yes, he was." Mark said, picking at his fingernails.

"And he came back to life."

"Yeah. I tried CPR, but it didn't seem to be doing anything so I thought he was too far gone." His voice wavered. He didn't want to think about that event.

Cian closed his eyes and tapped his pen. Mark took a sip of coffee, a drink that the older man offered him earlier.

"Have you ever heard of Lazarus Syndrome?"

Mark blinked. "I-I guess. I know Cesar talked to me about it when we were studying."

"Mm. Lazarus Syndrome - Autoresuscitation after failed CPR. They started recording cases ten years ago, but they appear to be few and far between."

"Mmm-hmm. That's what it was."

There was silence. The more Mark thought about it, the more he slowly realized he jumped the gun back at the house. Cesar wasn't responding to the compressions so he thought he was dead when in reality, his heart delayed in beating again. It was just like Lazarus in the tomb...

And I'm Jesus Christ. Funny. You'd think it'd be the other way around.

The sound of the phone ringing broke him out of his trance. Cian picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Okay. He's doing alright?"

"Okay, that's good. Do you want me to go get him?"

"Alright, thank you."

He hung up. "That was the hospital. Cesar's stable."

Mark let out a sigh of relief.

"Do you want to go see him?"

He nodded his head a bit too enthusiastically. Cian chuckled. "Okay, okay. You kids really need some rest."

As they left the questioning room, Mark asked him. "By the way, how did you know where we were?"

"Josiah. He let us know what was going on."

--------

Mark sat beside Cesar's hospital bed, holding his hand. It was already becoming warm. He's here. He's here with him now. Nothing could take him away now. He had already been given a second chance that night and he will make sure he will treasure every second he spends with Cesar. Never take anything for granted. He will work on himself to become a better version of Mark Owens. He won't let anything ruin this moment.

Cesar slowly opened his eyes.

"Hey bud. You alright?"

He turned to Mark and smiled. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you."

"No problem. You'd probably do the same for me, right?"

"You betcha." He gripped his hand. It was just as strong as before.

A lone bird perched itself on the windowsill, looking at the two men with an inquisitive look. Soon after, Josiah came into the room and they all delved into mundane conversations. For a moment, everything was back to normal.

--------

Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. “Take away the stone,” he said.

“But, Lord,” said Martha, the sister of the dead man, “by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.”

Then Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?”

So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me.”

When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face.

Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.”

#hail true body #htb (my) god's not dead au #htb mark owens #htb cesar hernandez #htb velcroduo

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