#long past dawn

[dannythedog]

Collage by @stardust-chords-enthusiast

Long Past Dawn part Two

Part One

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: You've grown up with Sam Kiszka as a best friend. As the two of you get older, you realize your feelings may be morphing into something more. What will happen when Sam finally invites you to the annual Kiszka lake trip where a string of crimes have taken place?

Warnings: 18+, brief smut, talk of death, angst

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy part two! This one is much shorter than the first chapter. I reread that first part and it took way too long, so I chopped this part. Thank you to anyone who took the time to read this. I'm excited to continue this series and see how I can develop this world!! Feedback and/or comments are always appreciated :)

-

“Jake’s dead.”

Your blood runs cold as Danny’s words sink in. It feels as though the entire world has stopped spinning, yet your body is still flying around the sun. The feeling of dread that you’ve grown all too familiar with in the last twelve hours amplifies and consumes you, swallowing you into its depths.

“That’s a fucked up joke, Dan,” Sam finally speaks.

“I’m not joking. He’s dead. He’s- guys he’s not moving. I went over and shook him. He’s dead,” Danny panics.

Your stomach is churning, their argument falling upon your deaf ears. This isn’t real. Jake isn’t dead. Your knees shake as you stare at Danny’s broad shoulders that are now frantically moving with his arms. Muffled voices try to penetrate your state of shock, but nothing is sharp enough. The tears welling in your unblinking eyes are the only sign that you’ve heard Danny at all.

The feeling of Sam tugging at your hand pulls you out of it - but only enough to follow the brothers outside.

“You guys are such fucking liars,” Josh grumbles with an eye roll. “It was funny last night when we were scaring Bug, but the moment has passed.”

Your heart aches for the twin. How could he be so casual about this? Didn’t he see the look on Danny’s face? His curls swirl in the early morning breeze and it makes you want to wrap him in your arms, to ward away the distress and grief that will try to befriend him. Josh’s features are still light and carefree despite a twinge of annoyance. A slight sunburn atop the bridge of his nose and cheeks gives him a youthful, innocent glow. You hate that it’ll be marred.

Danny leads the group of you off the deck and towards the old dock where you saw the silhouette last night. Bile rises in your throat as you recall last night’s memory. Sam still grips your hand as you slowly head down the embankment, eyes frantically scanning the shore for a body. His face remains calm, but his grip is tight and his palm starts to sweat, giving away his true emotions. You’re grateful that you took the time to admire his peace when you woke. You don’t know when you’ll see it again.

“Where is he?” Sam huffs out, nerves beginning to be evident.

Danny pauses, bending over to rest his hands on his knees and breathe deeply before continuing to the structure. You see Jake’s bare foot laying eerily still in the sand, the rest of his body being obscured by the dock. Before you can even think, you’re ripping your hand out of Sam’s and turning your back to the sight. “I can’t look,” you heave.

“It’s just a joke, y/n,” Josh snaps. “They’re just fucking with us.” He doesn’t mean to take his annoyance out on you, but he’s trying desperately to hide his fear. Josh is terrified that his twin is really laying there dead in the sand, having passed away while he was only yards away peacefully sleeping.

Josh and Danny approach the younger twin while Sam stays halfway between them and you. “Get up,” Josh demands and kicks at Jake’s unmoving body. He’s face down, half of his face pressed into the wet sand while the tide gently kisses his cheeks.

Sam takes a tentative step forward when he sees his big brother lean down and press Jake’s face fully into the water. “I SAID GET THE FUCK UP!”

“Josh,” Sam whimpers, lower lip beginning to tremble.

Just as you begin to cross the sand to Sam, Jake’s body is rolled over. His face is red and he's spluttering for air, water coming out of his nose and mouth. “Jesus!” he shouts. “I wasn’t actually dead, but you damn near killed me!”

“You’re fucked up,” Josh seethes at his twin and gives him a harsh push to the shoulder. Confusion washes over you as you watch the younger twin rise from the water and brush sand from his clothes. Was this all just some sick dream?

“And you,” Josh jabs at Danny’s chest. “You’re fucked up for taking it that far.”

The tall man’s gaze is filled with regret, brown eyes wide and sheepish. Before he has the chance to apologize, Josh is trekking through the sand back to the house.

Shock and dread are still coursing through your body as you watch Jake push wet strands of hair away from his tanned face. “It wasn’t supposed to go that far,” he groans. “We didn’t think you’d fall for it that easily.”

“You’re one hell of an actor,” Sam sneers. He gives his brother one final glare before turning on his heel to follow Josh. You’re rooted to the spot, unable to process anything that’s happened in the last ten minutes. You want to lash out at them like the others did, but a swirl of emotions weighs your chest down, making it feel like you’re choking. The beating sun only adds to the mix. Your brain feels fried and sluggish - entirely too perplexed from the emotional whiplash.

Jake’s warm eyes bore into yours, pleading for you to understand that it was only a joke. “Bug, c’mon. It’s not that serious.”

All you can manage is a shake of your head before trudging off to find Sam. Jake may not think it’s a big deal, but this joke was entirely too convincing. Entirely too real.

The breeze isn’t welcoming anymore, it chills your skin and draws out goosebumps. You find Sam laying in a hammock on the side of the house that’s bordered by forest. His wiry arms are folded over his bare chest as the wind swirls his brown locks around his face. He hadn’t even had the chance to put it up this morning.

“Hey,” you call quietly so you don’t startle him as you stand next to the hammock. “Are you okay?”

Bony fingers are wrapping around your wrists and swiftly tugging you on top of him. A shocked squeak falls from your lips as you land in an awkward position, but Sam wastes no time in readjusting you so that you’re cuddled up to him.

He nuzzles into your neck and takes a deep breath. “He’s such an asshole.”

You know you’re supposed to be focusing on comforting him, but the way his breath tickles across your neck makes your heart thud against your ribcage and your skin flush. You swallow thickly before nodding. “It was a fucked up joke. It was eerie how real it felt.”

Sam’s just as nervous as you are about the proximity of your bodies, but he takes a risk anyway. Planting a gentle kiss to the underside of your jaw, he tucks some of your hair behind your ear. “I think his punishment should be the silent treatment,” he murmurs against your skin. “Spend the day with me, Bug. Just me and you.”

His plush lips have you ready to agree in an instant. “What about Josh?” you breathe. “He seemed pretty upset.”

“Fuck Josh,” he mutters as he repositions his body so that it’s slightly on top of yours. “He’s a big boy. He can be mad at his twin all day long while I spend time with my sweet girl. As a real boyfriend and girlfriend now.”

“And how do you suppose we get them to leave us alone?”

“That’s easy, just have to pretend like were fucking if they try to come close to us,” Sam speaks nonchalantly - as if he was just telling you his favorite color.

“Samuel!” You’re positive that your cheeks have to be the same shade of bright red as the kayak that’s bobbing along the shore.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Unless?”

“I swear to God, I will leave the hammock if you keep it up.” Trying to prove your point, you push at his chest, trying to get your legs out from underneath him.

“Bug, stop it. You know I’m playing with you,” he whines and grabs your waist tighter.

“Yeah yeah. C’mon, I wanna go take a walk along the shore and see what seashells I can get.”

You hop out of the black hammock and hold your hand out to the lanky boy. Everytime Sam smiles at you - you feel like you are going to have a heart attack. He’s had you in a love spell for the past several years. He was finally yours and you were finally his.

“Huh?”

“What?” You look up at the boy - well he prefers for you to call him a man. He has three sparse mustache hairs coming in and it has him convinced that he is a man and he needs to be referred to as one.

“You said something.” He follows you almost obediently to the sand, fingers squeezing yours in sporadic rhythms.

“Did you smoke something?”

“I’ve been with you all morning, dingus. When would I have time to do that?” You feel yourself blush even more when Sam zeroes his line of sight to you. “I already heard what you said, I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

“And what did I say?” you play coy. You don’t feel like being even more embarrassed.

“That I was finally yours and you were finally mine.” Sam stops you along the shore to stand in front of you for a second, beaming at you when he notices you lowering your head to focus on the waves that are crashing into your feet. “Hey, stop being shy. It’s just me, Bug.”

Sam places his pointer finger under your chin, forcing you to lift your head to look at him fully. Your eyes search each other, just taking in the moment and the realization of last night hits you even more.

“You gonna kiss her or what?” Jake. He always has to come along and ruin a moment.

Sam’s eyes tear away from yours, jaw clenching tightly. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re all pretty pissed at you,” Sam hisses. “Why don’t you and Danny fuck off for the day.”

Jake doesn’t budge, his brown eyes boring into your own, nearly begging for you to tell him everything is okay. “You two finally get together? Or is Sam still being a pussy?”

You could practically feel the anger radiating from Sam’s body as he takes a step forward. Thinking quickly, you place your palm onto his bare chest to stop him from doing anything he may regret. The heat leeches into your skin and makes you feel woozy.

“Calm down, Sam. He gets it - what he did was shitty.” Your gaze flicks up to Jake again, expression soft so he knows he’s forgiven. “We did get together, yes. Last night. We were going to tell everyone this morning, but it seems like you and Danny had other plans.”

His big eyes twinge with regret. All he does is give a simple nod - one that he knows you’ll understand.

“Looks like I finally won, huh, Jake?” Sam spits. “Looks like I finally got her.”

“Sam, you know it was never like that.”

“Oh really? I saw how you acted towards her. I saw all your secret moments and stupid little looks. She doesn’t want you. She never has. Grow up and leave us the fuck alone.”

“Sam,” you breathe, not sure why he’s being so hard on his brother. “Come on, let’s just go, okay?”

His mouth opens to go at Jake again, but he’s interrupted. “I’m happy for you two. Really.”

Confusion flashes across Sam’s face for a quick moment, but it’s gone just as fast. “Let’s go, Bug.”

He tugs your hand, leading you further down the shore. Tension radiates off of him. His muscles are taut, face set into a stony expression. A frown floats down your face. You could try to explain why he shouldn’t be so upset with Jake, why he should take this as an opportunity to be grateful that his brother is in his life, but you know he needs time. So, you let him lead you across the wet sand and towards a little island. It was really more like a large sandbar, but you’d think of it as your own personal island. Sam and Bug Isle.

He wades into the shallow water rather aggressively. Thin legs cut through each gentle bob of the tide to reach your destination. You follow him without a second thought. He reaches out a hand to steady you as you climb onto your little island - any aggression he may have had is gone as soon as his skin touches yours.

“This could be our place,” you suggest. “I was thinking of it as our own island.”

Troubled brown eyes gaze into your own and soften with each word. You could tell he likes the idea, but is too trapped in his feelings to voice it. The gentle squeeze of his large hand on yours is enough of an answer.

“You shouldn’t be too upset with him. I know what he did is fucked up and I’m upset, too, but I think I’m more glad that he’s actually okay. I’m happy we still have him with us.”

A puff of air leaves his nose and he looks out at the water. “He’s a douche. He always knows just how to fuck everything up.”

“Hey, leave that all behind. Don’t bring bad vibes to our island.”

You finally coax a small smile from Sam. His shoulder touches yours in a tender gesture. “Yeah. You’re right. Let’s make this morning about us. Should we christen the island?”

A mutter of his name escapes you in pure embarrassment. Christening a dinky little spot of land that’s so out in the open? Something that’s not quite in sight of the cabin full of his family, but is still right there?

He leans closer, his warm skin soothing the goosebumps that litter yourself. “Then just kiss me for a while.”

Now this was doable. Sam turns his body so he’s fully facing you now, knees knocking against yours. You can’t help the small smile that forms when his droopy eyes flick to your lips. The first kiss is tender, much like the one you shared in the bedroom last night. It’s full of nervous feelings and simple newness. You sort of wish he would invest in chapstick.

Any thoughts of chapped lips escape your mind when he grazes his fingers across your cheek to tilt your head upwards a bit, deepening the kiss. His full lips move cautiously against your own as he explores his new canvas. Shaky hands skirt up his bare chest - you’re thankful he hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt this morning. His skin is soft and smooth under your touch and you swear you can feel his thudding heart. It makes you all too aware of how fast yours is beating.

“Relax,” he murmurs against your lips. “It’s just me. Don’t get all jittery on me.”

He pulls back to look at you, a lopsided grin on display. “My little jitterbug.”

You huff and trace your fingertips against his shoulder. “That’s the problem. It’s you. Yesterday I was beyond terrified that you’d figure out how I felt and now we’re here. Just freely kissing.”

“Do you like it?”

You scoff. “Of course I do. I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be,” he insists and presses a kiss to the very corner of your mouth. “I don’t think you could mess this up if you tried.”

Then his plush lips are on yours again. Sam grasps the back of your neck to keep you close, his fingers wrapping themselves up in baby hairs. This time he beckons your mouth open with a gentle lap of his tongue. It felt almost greedy the way you welcomed him in. The sound of the waves match up with each swirl of your tongues and the wind caresses you just as softly as he does. You don’t think you’ve ever experienced anything so romantic.

The mood shifts when he presses his body forward and guides you to lay on your back. He mumbles something about being more comfortable this way. A few weeds poke at your back and sand travels its way into your shorts, but you don’t care. You don’t care about anything uncomfortable while you’re with him.

A large, shaky hand rests on your hip and massages gently. He got on you about being nervous, but you could tell he felt the same. His fingers slowly slip under your baggy sleep shirt and knead your side. Sam breaks the kiss to look into your eyes.

“Y/n, I really like you,” he whispers, his sweet voice trembling.

You whisper back the same sentiment. It was obvious what he wanted to do. It was obvious he wanted you right there on your little island and you think you’d let him take you.

Seeing him so nervous and gentle sent a wave of confidence through you. In one swift movement, you sweep off your shirt and toss it to the side. The way his eyes bulge at the sight of your breasts makes you want to run for the hills. Maybe you weren’t actually feeling all that confident.

“Oh, Bug,” he utters, eyes locked onto your body. “You’re beautiful.”

You want to shy away and you give into the feeling. In your moment of bashfulness, you cover your chest with your arms.

“No. No, don’t do that. Don’t hide from me.” He tugs at your arms in full seriousness. “Let me see how stunning you are.”

He always knew how to weaken your resolve. Slowly, you move your arms back down to your sides. His smile is breathtaking. Ever so carefully, his hands slide up your sides and over your ribs, then they cup your breasts. It wasn’t the awkward groping you got so used to with inexperienced boys. This was tender. Full of emotion. His thumbs brush over your nipples and it sends a rather delicious shiver through you.

His hands never leave you as he attaches his lips to that same spot under your jaw from earlier. A place you’re growing to love being kissed. Bursts of kisses are pressed to your throat as he moves himself over you. One knee is between your thighs and the other takes the brunt of his weight. Sloppy, wet kisses move down your chest and to the top of your left breast.

He looks up at you in a moment of pause. “Do you want this?”

Do I want this? Last night and this morning have been such a whirlwind of emotions. Everyone is overwhelmed and frazzled, but maybe this is what I need. Maybe this is the release we both need to get back on track to what’s supposed to be a good vacation.

“Yeah. I want you.”

You undress each other right there on your island. His touches are slightly fumbled but given with the most care you’ve ever felt. When he presses into you it’s electric. Whispered words and soft praises are shared with each movement of his hips. This moment is engrained on that bit of land. You leave a bit of yourselves there for the rest of time.

Afterwards you lay there basking in the morning sun. The chaos of last night and this morning had completely slipped your brain. “I don’t want to go back,” he groans.

“So we won’t,” you hum, nuzzling into him further. “Let’s stay here.”

“I’m a little cold and I’m starving,” he huffs. So you do go back. You walk hand in hand back to the cabin with rosy cheeks and an excited glow about you. There was leftover breakfast from when Josh had cooked. The rest of the morning was spent wrapped up in Sam. You felt like you had to make up for lost time. That is until the eldest brother appears with a mock stern look.

“We shouldn’t leave you two alone with all this nonsense that’s going on.” You weren’t sure if he was talking about the murders or the obvious fact you and Sam had hooked up. “Let’s go for a hike.”

[solo-walker]

Eventually, of course, Anthony realises he just doesn't have the means to adopt the sheer number of kids who'd been freed from the Silver Line. And it gets increasingly harder to explain the sudden influx of children (all in the garb of various periods of history) in a home previously occupied by only three people.

Clarissa too gets adopted. And as much as Anthony, Jennifer and Benjamin hate to see her go, it has to be done. Clarissa feels... mixed. She will forever be indebted to the family who pulled her out of the vortex of her own nightmare, and oh she will miss them terribly, but it's hard to move on from the gaping and now silent hole in Benjamin's wall. It's hard to ignore how Benjamin sometimes struggles to remember his own name and it's hard to not instinctively check for her own worn out ticket, bought ages ago when time still had meaning.

She gets the fresh start she wanted, somewhere far away overseas, with a home in New Jersey and a mother with a kind smile who marks this chapter of her life by letting her pick out a new name. Clarissa Suzanne has a nice ring to it, she thinks. She stays in touch with Benjamin of course, he's the only one who understands. In fact, despite the distance, he grows to be one of her closest friends.

That's only because the title of 'best friend' is taken by Amanda. Dear, supportive Amanda, always ready for a game of hide-and-seek, always ready to listen and offer advice, always ready to go along with whatever scheme Clarissa came up with. When Clarissa seeks her help in winning Mark back, Amanda agrees despite her splintering heart. She says nothing. But then again, she'd always been good at hiding.

Benjamin had heard loads about Amanda over the years, and had waited eagerly for the day he'd get to meet Clarissa's best friend. When he arrives with his parents to attend the proper wedding of Clarissa and Mark, he expects to be introduced to a bustling and cheery young woman. He certainly doesn't expect to spend the latter half of the evening comforting a bereft Amanda as she sobs into her hands. She begs him not to tell Clarissa anything. He doesn't know what he could possibly say.

[maxdurden]

in the world of spyre, how much do we know about high court? like it's a predominantly (if not completely) human nation. it seems like worship of sol/helio is important. is it like,,, a theocratic ethnostate oorrrr???

and it would be completely high fantasy bs, right? i mean, solace is the only nation with arcano-tech, right?

[simplegenius042]

"What Kind Of Love Are You?" OC Quiz & "Every OC List Got The ___"

Tagged by @adelaidedrubman @imogenkol @voidika @shellibisshe and @aceghosts

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @noodlecupcakes @josephseedismyfather @inafieldofdaisies @icecutioner @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @direwombat @strangefable @rhettsabbott @josephslittledeputy @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @raresvtm @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @titiagls @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @thesingularityseries and @nightwingshero + anyone else who'd like to join.

Four results for my OCs for this quiz and four OC Lists for four of my series.

JOAQUIN COBALT (THE UNTITLEDVERSE)

This feels accurate for Joaquin considering he begins The UnTitledverse as an adolescent, and the series follows his growth and youth to adulthood. Joaquin has the weight of the world (or rather multiverse) on him, but, he still has time to be a child, to be a teen, to be his own identity, with Maisie, Mario, Calvin and all his found family and friends to share the weight.

SILVA OMAR (THE SILVER CHRONICLES [FAR CRY 5 & FAR CRY NEW DAWN])

Religious themes (including the trauma) for Silva go brrr! Like what else is there to say?

HAOYU ANABUKI (LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS)

Yeah this makes sense for them. Haoyu is someone who's not used to love and when it comes it is gonna be the most life-changing thing for them. For once something they will have to make a commitment towards keeping if they want it. Haoyu is also the type to go in a panic as well as overthink; including full-on denial.

MARISSA "RESS" BISHOP (A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE [FALLOUT])

While this definitely suits Ress at her best, I don't think it encapsulates everything about her. Because while Ress' love is bountiful and ageless and endless... there's also the fear of losing it all, because Ress will outlive everyone she knows because her own natural mortality outlasts everyone else's. The only person that would be around the longest with her (and meet her at what would be considered old age for a hybrid species like them) would have been her older half-brother, Ore... but even that is cruelly taken away from her by their father Urias and his Occult. Yeah, so while this definitely does shine a light on the happiness and thrill Ress would feel with her lover (prime example being Piper), it doesn't acknowledge the grief she'd eventually have to face.

Now for the OC List, I decided to go with OCs from all four/five of my series; The UnTitledverse, The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters and a shared list with my Fallout series A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore and my original series An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts Trilogy (which includes my Wings And Horns WIP that this trilogy spins off from). So yeah... enjoy! [NOTE: This will include art/doodles, reference pictures (for the art/doodles that I still haven't been skilled enough to draw) and faceclaims]:

THE UNTITLEDVERSE

Lisa Cobalt | Malcolm Darling | Mario Emmet Jester | Madame Callaghan | Lillian "Lena" Elliot Greenpeace | Allyson "Alice" Darling | Edward Carmine Calvin Dearing | Joaquin Cobalt | Rick Thompson

[My (Incomplete) Art: Malcolm Darling, Mario Emmet and Jester]

THE SILVER CHRONICLES

Oscar Lapis | Father Adam Omar | Silva's Third Eye Elsa Omar | Paul Yellowjack | Silva Omar Azriel Omar | Nadi Sinclair | Kamski Neon Alexander Khaos | Gavin Turquoise | Mercy Omar-Seed | Ezekiel

[My (Incomplete) Art: Silva's Third Eye (or at least what its spiritual physically looks like if you're potent in the Third Eye... or a certain New God shitting bricks at the sight of this hungry symbiotic cretin)]

LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS

Yan | Frederick Rosemary | The Unity Hatter | Icarus Galatos | Hatsukami Hinode | Xavier Tulip | Haoyu Anabuki Rico | Eden "Evie" Bloodleech | Sonya | Sir Enigma Malvolio | The Court King Denise Redwood | Lora | Cecil Royce | Corvus Targaryen

[Image Reference Credits: Vecna from Stranger Things, The Stupendium in "The Toybox", The Core from Amphibia, an edited Mad Hatter from Alice In Wonderland, Kraang One's Exosuit from Rise Of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Movie and artwork of that Jester King done by CristianAC on Steam]

A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE + WINGS AND HORNS

Elrand Brandt the Vault Dweller | Aggravor the Accursed | Arcane Urias Xiang Ba'al | Vega the Resident | Marissa "Ress" Bishop Alph Dolen the Lone Wanderer | Ryder the Courier Six | Discord the Mad Kin of Carnage Ortega "Ore" Brantley | Archangel Metatron | Finidy Mona the Chosen One | Nate Gust Sarid the Sole Survivor

[Image Reference Credits: Vecna from Stranger Things, Annihilus from Marvel Comics, Kagetane Hiruko from Black Bullet, LorenzoArt's Caedis from Instagram, NCR Veteran Ranger from Fallout: New Vegas and art of Archangel Metatron that I found posted on Quora]

[Faceclaims (which might or might not change): The UnTitledverse: Beanie Feldstein for Lisa Cobalt, Scarlett Johanson for Madame Callaghan, Elizabeth Gilles for Lillian "Lena" Elliot, Sean McLoughlin for Greenpeace, Anya Taylor-Joy for Allyson "Alice" Darling, Benedict Cumberbatch for Edward Carmine, Laurence Fishburne for Calvin Dearing, Isiaiah Stannard for Joaquin Cobalt and Aaron Moten for Rick Thompson. The Silver Chronicles: Mario Casas for Oscar Lapis, Brad Garrett for Father Adam Omar, Juliana Alves for Elsa Omar, Gabriel Garko for Paul Yellowjack, Mina El Hammani for Deputy Silva Omar, Aria Goodson for Azriel Omar, Aïssa Maïga for Nadi Sinclair, Andre Royo for Kamski "the Good Doctor" Neon, Taron Egerton for Alexander Khaos, Matthew McConaughey for Gavin Turquoise, Emily Tosta for Mercy Omar-Seed and Álex González for Captain Ezekiel of Security. Life, Despair & Monsters: Daniel Padilla for Icarus Galatos, Hatsukami Hinode & Xavier Tulip, Hikaru Utada for Haoyu Anabuki, Wilmer Calderon for Rico, Nathalie Emmanuel for Eden "Evie" Bloodleech, Rami Malek for Sir Enigma Malvolio, Odette Annable for Denise Redwood, Karen Fukuhara for Lora, Mia Goth for Cecil Royce and Daniel Radcliffe for Corvus Targaryen. A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore: Jason Statham for Elrand Brandt the Vault Dweller, Yvonne Strahovski for Vega the Resident, Beyonce for Marissa "Ress" Bishop, Sam Blanckensee for Alph Dolen the Lone Wanderer, Halle Berry for Ryder the Courier Six, Jessica Alba for Finidy Mona the Chosen One and Steven He for Nate Gust Sarid the Sole Survivor.

[wildelydawn]

https://www.tumblr.com/wildelydawn/764863130767704064/only-reason-im-functioning-today-is-because?source=share you have to see the documentary that barca released today about his recovery. it made me cry a lot and it's very well done 🥹

I haven't seen any of the Barca One documentary parts yet because I am extremely extremely sensitive and I know for a fact it will make me cry. I get teary eyed when I accidentally watch a Gavi reel and it includes his injury. So. I need to prepare myself a lot for watching the videos on Gavi's recovery. I do want to watch it, very badly because I know Gavi is such a strong person and I'm sure the films are well made. I am just too sensitive. Trust me, when I watch it, you'll know. Because I'll be sobbing on here and making it everyone's problem.

[chloecherrysip]

All right, I am at the point where I think I'm just gonna upload my post-movie fic in three or four separate parts/chapters because this fic has officially become TOO long (like, i am not done yet but it might top out at 15,000+ words - i know. I KNOW!!!!) and the thought of posting it all at once like that is a totally normal, not unhinged number of words to make someone read in one sitting is starting to Stress Me Out. Maybe that will be annoying but y'know what, people with comics do it and I gotta stop overthinking this.

This means I should have the first part to share sometime over the next couple of days, if I don't chicken out. :]

[hairtusk]

[coolcattime]

Getting into Until Dawn brainrot was definitely a good idea for my brain 😭

Still not planning on writing anything because if there are new scenes, or deaths in the new version, I don't want to get locked out of using them, but gods is the brainrots so fucking much right now

Note: this is the simple version of the plans. The full chapter notes are 1,500 words and are part of the reason the chapters in this story were all long as shit

[queenofbaws]

The happiest of Saturdays to you my fellow ud gramma and Libra birthday sharer! Here's what you've no doubtedly been waiting for all morning, the sixth entry to my one-time lyric prompt week event!

'My tongue is a weapon, and I'm locked and loaded

When you least expect it, you won't know it's coming

And I'll strike

'Cause I am a monster'

The only word for it was whiplash.

Whiplash, the way the room had gone from tired laughter to jaw-locking tension; whiplash, the way the two of them had been smiling, then scowling, then snarling, the substance of their insults never deepening, but certainly growing more pointed; whiplash, then, the way the whole world had fallen silent after that last jab, the way their ears rang.

"Oh, oh that's the one that gets you, huh?" Emily pressed, digging her heels in when she saw it land, draining every last drop of color from Jess's snow-flushed face. "Well let me remind you, honey, since you seem to think I and the rest of the world are just being sooo unfair to you: Between sniffing around other people's exes and literally being the reason Hannah and Beth fucking died last year, I'd say karma's been taking it pretty lightly on your ass."

The lodge was silent and still and perfectly, completely, terribly tense as seconds stretched to eons; Jess was the one to break it, taking one step back, two, three, then running out of the room with Mike close behind her, his gaze sharp but his "Really, Em?" sharper.

She scoffed and searched the others' faces for support, for agreement, and when all she found were down-turned eyes she rolled her own and muttered, "No one told her to write the stupid note, okay - she did that shit herself."

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

[codeshot]

tag drop !!

[dannythedog]

Begging for a part 2 of long past dawn literally BEGGINGGG🙏 🥺

Y’all I literally can’t tell you when it’ll be out lol I have a fuck ton of stuff going on in my life at the moment and I don’t have time to write. Eventually you’ll get a part two, but this is why I didn’t want to put out a writing schedule or anything. I’m sorry that I’m not being more timely :/

@sacredthefran

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript + Bonus below the cut:

Atlas: Welcome back. Did ya have fun? Asher: Yeah. It took me at least twenty tries to make it down without falling on my a—[looks at Aspen] back. But I did it. Which means I never have to do it again.

Phoenix: Are you guys coming with us to the Festival of Snow? Asher: Nah, you all go ahead. I’m exhausted and my entire body hurts. I’m gonna go lay down and never move again. Phoenix: Feel free to use the hot tub out there, it’ll probably help. Asher: Yeeaaah, I’m not doing that.

Atlas: How about you take a hot shower, and then I’ll give you a terrible massage. Phoenix: Why a terrible one? Atlas: It’s the only way I know how. Asher: It’s true, he’s the worst, but I’ll take it.

...

Asher: Either I’m getting used to your massages, or you’re getting better. That actually feels good. Atlas: Practice makes perfect, I guess. Asher: Well, you can practice on me anytime. Atlas: Noted.

Asher: Didn’t you say there’s a bunch of hiking trails around here? Atlas: Yeah, there’s a few. Asher: We should go on a hike together tomorrow, just me and you. Atlas: Look at you being all outdoorsy and active this week.

Asher: Might as well take advantage while we’re here. Besides, if there’s one thing I learned today, it’s that I’ve let myself get out of shape. I didn’t realize how much running around on the beach with Jasper kept me fit. I’ve gone soft now. Atlas: Mm-mm.

Atlas: You’re perfect.

...

This post got me reminiscing about the first time they came to the Festival of Snow...

This was seven years ago in story time, can you believe it???!!! This was before they even climbed Mt Komorebi!

[luvvictoria]

I've been thinking abt a poly!tf141 with a fem!reader who like is from the country side AND I'M CRACKING, OH LAWD!!!

Task Force 141 had seen you kill a man from 700 meters away. They had seen you tear through enemy lines with the precision of a seasoned warrior, your movements deadly and efficient. But what they hadn't seen—what they couldn’t wrap their heads around—was the life you returned to after every mission.

Because while Ghost, Soap, Price, and Gaz spent their leave in safe houses, military bases, or the occasional urban apartment, you?

You went home.

To the countryside.

To your massive, luxurious farmhouse nestled in the hills of a quiet village, where the air smelled of fresh hay, wildflowers, and the occasional whiff of cow.

And when TF141 finally visited, they were not prepared.

The First Time They Saw the Farm : "What the fuck—" Ghost had been the first to say it when you pulled up to your estate in an old pickup truck, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as you parked in front of a sprawling wooden house with a red-tiled roof.

There were animals everywhere.

A massive black and white cow lazily chewed its cud near the wooden fence. Chickens and roosters strutted about like they owned the place. A gray donkey stared at them with judgmental eyes. Two ducks waddled past as if they were on a mission. Dogs barked excitedly at the sight of you, tails wagging. A cat lounged on the porch, stretching in the warm sun.

And then—a fucking horse trotted up to you, nuzzling into your palm like a puppy.

"Price," Gaz whispered. "She has a fucking farm."

"A fancy one at that," Soap muttered, still stunned.

"You lot gonna stand there all day?" You grinned, tossing your duffel bag over your shoulder. "Come on in. Dinner’s almost ready."

They were bewildered. They had spent years with you, fighting side by side, seeing you covered in blood, sweat, and gunpowder—and now you were leading them up the front porch of your cozy countryside mansion like a perfect little housewife.

And the worst part? They liked it.

You, The Deadly Soldier and The Perfect Housewife

Soap had expected you to relax on your leave. Maybe sleep in, drink some tea, read a book.

But no.

You were up at the crack of dawn, slipping out of bed before any of them could pull you back in, dressed in overalls and a white tank top, heading out to feed the animals like it was just another mission.

"Morning, sweetheart," Price murmured, leaning against the doorway as he watched you toss hay to the horses.

"Morning, Captain," you teased, kissing his scruffy cheek before moving on to collect eggs from the hens.

Ghost watched in silence, arms crossed, as you scolded a particularly feisty rooster. "You peck me one more time, and I swear to God, I’m making soup outta you."

Gaz almost choked on his coffee when you turned around and gave them the sweetest, most innocent smile.

"You boys want breakfast?"

Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting at a massive wooden table in your warm, sunlit kitchen, eating fresh farm eggs, homemade bread, and smoked bacon.

And Soap was ready to propose.

Domesticity With a Side of Chaos

Price: Loves sitting on the porch with a cigar, watching you work. He helps with repairs, fixes fences, and absolutely adores the peacefulness of your home.

Ghost: The animals are terrified of him at first (except the donkey—the donkey hates him). But the barn cats adopt him, curling up in his lap whenever he sits down.

Soap: Thinks farm life is the best thing ever. He learns how to milk a cow, names every single chicken, and gets way too attached to a piglet.

Gaz: "Babe, I love you, but this rooster is evil." (He got chased one too many times.)

And at night?

After a long day of farm work, you slip into something soft and lacy, curl up in their arms, and remind them that you’re not just a soldier, not just a farmer—you’re theirs.

They Never Want to Leave

By the end of their stay, not a single one of them wants to go back.

"You sure we have to leave?" Soap pouts, feeding the ducks.

"Darlin’," Price murmurs against your neck one night, arms wrapped around you in bed, "Ever thought about retirin’ here? With us?"

Ghost doesn’t say it out loud, but when he watches you laugh, your hands covered in flour as you bake bread, he knows he never wants to be anywhere else.

And Gaz?

He just sighs, watching the sunset over the hills. "I never thought I’d say this, but…I think I’m in love with farm life."

They were all in love. With you. With this. With the life they could have, if only they stayed.

Maybe one day.

For now, they’d enjoy every stolen moment in their countsyde paradise. But what if we make thing spicy ? A little bit, at least.

Ghost Was The First To Break

Ghost had held strong. Longer than the others.

While Soap got weak-kneed watching you bend over to pick up hay, and while Gaz couldn’t stop staring at your thighs in those tiny denim shorts, Ghost had kept his cool.

Until that damn sundress.

White. Light. Flowy. Just enough fabric to tempt, but never satisfy—clinging to your curves, slipping off your shoulders as you carried a bucket of water to the horses.

He had been cleaning his rifle on the porch, but his grip tightened the moment he saw the fabric sway with your every step.

And then?

You had the audacity to look over your shoulder and wink at him.

He dropped the rifle.

Soap Lost It In The Barn

Soap had always been shameless about his attraction to you.

But you?

You were even worse.

It was an accident—(was it?)—when you walked into the barn one night, looking for something. The others were inside, drinking whiskey in the house, but Soap had been alone, brushing down one of your horses.

And then he saw you.

Wet.

Covered in rain.

Your thin white blouse clung to you, completely see-through, nipples pebbled against the fabric.

"Lass," he had rasped, watching as you closed the barn door behind you, stepping forward, voice all honeyed and sweet.

"Johnny," you had purred, voice dripping with something that wasn’t innocence, "I’m cold."

He snapped.

The horse had seen things that night.

Price Was The Most Dangerous

Price was a man of control.

A man of restraint.

A man who knew how to bide his time.

But you?

You tested him.

You liked to push. You liked to see how far you could go before he gave in.

And God help you—you found his limit.

It was late. The others were asleep. You were making tea in the kitchen, standing on your tiptoes to reach a mug from the top shelf.

Price had walked in just as your nightgown slipped up your thighs.

It wasn’t fair.

The soft, white cotton. The little lace trim. The way your bare legs looked so smooth, so inviting—and the sleepy way you turned, so unaware of what you were doing to him.

You looked up at him, mug in hand, and smiled. "You want some tea, Cap?"

And then—his hands were on your hips.

Voice rough.

"You know damn well what I want, sweetheart."

Gaz Had It The Worst

Gaz?

Gaz was a goner the first time he saw you in nothing but boots and his shirt.

You had come in from the field soaked in sweat, hair messy, thighs speckled with dirt. You had tossed your muddy clothes into the laundry room, grabbed his green tactical shirt, and walked around the house like it wasn’t driving him insane.

"Babe," he groaned, rubbing a hand down his face, watching you stretch, the hem of his shirt riding up to dangerous levels.

You blinked. All innocent. "What’s wrong?"

Gaz was a patient man. A respectful man. A man who was about to lose his goddamn mind.

"Come here."

You smirked, walking over slowly, pressing your hands to his chest.

"You’re so easy to rile up," you giggled.

His hand wrapped around your throat.

"And you’re about to learn what happens when you push too far."

[ajdrawshq]

hi . i (mostly) finished the game. if u couldnt tell

[jensownzoo]

Oops I think I shut one of the neighborhood cats in my garage yesterday.

I'll leave the door open occasionally while I'm home so they can hunt the mice infesting it. Usually the cat (1 of 2) comes bolting out once they hear me futzing around nearby, but maybe she was asleep? Or deeply focused?

Anyway I opened the door to retrieve my clothespins, started hanging thing up on the line, and she was suddenly just there with me, rapidly slinking around to remove herself from the area post-haste.

So yeah, I think she spent the night in the garage.

Hope she feasted well.

[lalunanymph]

✧.* IN BLOOM

✧.* summary summer rains bring about the faint scent of asiatic apple blossoms wafting through the house from an open window in the kitchen. time stands still, fragments of moments leading you right to this very second. you take his hand and a deep breath. “anywhere you go, that’s where I want to be, caleb.” 

it’s all the permission he needs. 

✧.* warnings first time, mutual virginity loss, slightttt psuedo-cest if you squint, soft and smutty, size kink, spanking, oral sex, mating press, dirty talk, breeding, slight aftercare at the end, pillowtalk

✧.* dawn says something different from the dark content i usually write and tried my best to balance fluff and the feelings of losing your v-card for the first time (cue rose from titanic's voice: "it's been 84 yearsssss…")

It’s the middle of the night somewhere in Skyhaven. 

The street lights reflect puddles of rain left from a thunderstorm, and the air smells faintly of petrichor, reassuring weary strays and rain-soaked passersby alike that the worst is already over. 

While the world dries off from another raging tempest, inside Caleb’s home, you’re in his arms, warm and tipsy from the intimacy of shallow breaths gracing your parted lips. 

Smack. Huff. A caress. 

Slick and hot, the soft sounds of his kisses make you flush deeper, and you tighten your fingers in his hair. 

Caleb moans, unrestrained, as he feels you shift on his lap. Like a drug, he can’t get enough of you. The smell of wildflowers in your hair, how you taste like the strawberry balm he bought for you days ago when you complained of chapped lips. Slick fruitiness glides over his parched mouth, making his kisses glide effortlessly. 

He tangles his tongue with yours, sending a jolt of desire running up your spine. 

“Mhmph,” you moan against his mouth. “Oh… Caleb .” 

His name, sticky sweet with cadences of love, slips past your bruised lips, and he swears his heart chokes on a stutter.

Cool fingers push a stray lock of hair behind your ear, and he hums, those purple eyes vortexes of yearning. The maelstrom of emotion in them makes your chest squeeze, and you lean into his touch, breath coming out in a soft huff.

The unspoken tenuous line looms before the two of you, and you wonder if tonight is the night you’ll dare cross it. 

Flames from the digital fireplace flicker, synchronous with the temperature on the thermostat bumping up a notch, the one Caleb got installed because you grumbled that Skyhaven was colder than you remembered. Beads of sweat drip down his temples, but he doesn’t pay them any mind. 

You gently run the back of your hand against the muggy skin, wiping his perspiration away. 

This close, your breaths mingle and blend into one, the tips of your nose rubbing against each other. 

Inevitably, Caleb would pull back, sigh, and tell you to go to sleep while he takes a ridiculously long cold shower. You’d be left alone in your room, an ache blooming between your thighs, and frustration keeping you up all night.

That bastard. 

At your core, you understand your ex-older brother figure didn’t mean to edge you to the precipice of oblivion. His protective tendencies, while great in keeping danger away from you, are a hindrance to taking the next, natural step forward together.

As you feather another kiss to his jaw, you feel him pull back. 

Caleb’s cheeks are ruddy, not from the heat of the room, but from the one building between the two of you. 

He licks his lips, inadvertently drawing your attention to the puffy flesh which is still sticky from your errant smears of lip oil. With a huge sigh, he drags himself back from your orbit, as if he can’t bear to be within crashing distance of your surface. 

“Pipsqueak, it’s late,” Caleb whispers, the tenderness of his words brushing against your earlobe. 

You shiver when his teeth graze the sensitive flesh. 

“You need to sleep—”

Stubbornly, or perhaps, foolishly, you tighten your grip around his neck and drag him closer to you till his forehead bumps yours.

Your lips seek him with a newfound determination, and he almost stumbles back into the stuffed cushion, a moan of desperation slipping past his carefully crafted self-control. 

“Pip—”

“No,” you mumble heatedly, and drag your tongue across his lower lip, begging him for access into his mouth. 

Caleb reluctantly parts his lips and you tangle your tongue with his, tasting the sweetness of the apple soda he just drank half an hour ago. 

“Mhm,” he moans, and gives in to your momentary distraction, knotting his fingers into your already disheveled hair.

Something hard pokes your lower belly, and you whine into the heat of his kisses, running your tongue over the hard palate of his teeth. 

Caleb tightens his grip on your hips, and relents into the force of your yearning, feeling the contours of your body melting against the hard planes of his own muscular build. You shiver when he dips his fingers past the hemline of the tank top you’re wearing, your breasts pressed up to his chiseled pecs. He’s bare except for a low-slung pair of sweatpants, temptation right in the palm of your hand.

Your nipples pebble from the friction of his body slowly rubbing against yours, and the need he’s been stoking throbs warmly between your thighs, an aching thirst demanding to be quenched.

“ Caleb… ” 

The whispered moan feathers across his cheeks, grazing him with the warm softness that is entirely you.

In his arms, you’re sin waiting to be devoured—those doe-innocent eyes and warm, wet mouth that get him harder than steel. 

He whimpers when your lower body drags against his bulge, and winces when you giggle and gently nip his lower lip.

“Pipsqueak—”

Hoarse and ragged, the sound of your childhood nickname brings you up short.

“Caleb, why do you always insist on calling me that when I’m trying to… you know…” you trail off, equally as shy as him. 

It’s clear he doesn’t expect you to directly address the elephant in the room. But, after almost losing him once to the explosion and another time to his spiraling secrets, you desperately want to hold on to the man who had taught you what love was.

Caleb’s thumbs stroke the fleshy part of your hips, drawing tender circles on your skin. Those purple eyes flash like a doleful puppy’s and you resist the urge to pinch his cheek. He looks like he’s in pain—as if one touch from you could break him. 

“Are you sure?” 

His voice is hoarse. Uncertain.

“Once we do this, it’s…” he trails off. Years of knowing his ins and outs make you privy to the true meaning of his hesitation: 

Are you sure you want to cross this line with me? 

Your fingers tremble when they caress his jaw. Summer rains bring about the faint scent of Asiatic apple blossoms wafting through the house from an open window in the kitchen. 

Time stands still, fragments of moments leading you upright to this very second. 

You take his hand and a deep breath. Caleb sees your crystal clear eyes, free from the shadows of the doubt creeping into his mind. He tastes the first stirrings of hope, right in the center of his rib cage where his heart pounds valiantly, and tightens his grip on your hand.

You look at him like he’s something precious —gold and gems in the palm of your hand. Tenderly, you press a kiss to his forehead, tasting the salt of his skin, and murmur: 

“Anywhere you go, that’s where I want to be, Caleb. ” 

It’s all the permission he needs. 

Caleb snaps you up into his arms effortlessly, using his unbeatable strength to carry you back to his bedroom, his lips never leaving yours.

The heat of the moment is only broken when he sets you down on the bed, his lips detaching from yours for a moment to trail down your neck, nipping and sucking his marks all over the pristine canvas of your skin. You gasp, arching into his touch, when he nuzzles his face into the crook of your shoulder; biting down on the stretch of skin just begging to be marked by him.

He slides the strap of your tank top to the side, stamping more heated kisses down onto your shoulder, the jut of your arm. Every loving graze is punctuated by his devotion, those violet eyes brewing with the storm of his affection about to snap and break. 

Caleb… you whine, and he answers with a low grunt, his entire weight bearing down on you.

As kids, he’s always had the unfair advantage of his build and age to win at wrestling. Gran would often find the two of you entangled on the rug, you flushed and seething and him glowing with triumph when he’s won—yet again. 

But, the press of his body on yours is different this time. 

It carries a more intimate intention, all of which is far from the innocence of playfully fighting each other for the last hawthorn-flavored candy in the fridge, or the privilege of choosing what Saturday morning cartoons to watch. 

He sweeps your hair back, letting it drape over your other shoulder as he moves his lips to the delicate stretch of skin still untouched by the heat of his mouth. Caleb’s teeth graze your pulse point, and you jerk, as if electrocuted. 

“Nghm,” you moan, and he huffs a chuckle, his warm breath making goosebumps erupt across your arms. “ Fuc—”

“Uh-uh,” he chastises, the heat of his mouth swelling over your pulse point, gently sucking on your skin. Leaving another errant mark. “Don’t swear—good princesses never swear.”

Teeth sink into your lower lip. You feel dizzy and elated at the same time like you’re standing on the highest point of the earth, looking down at the swirling colors below.

“Ngh—C-Caleb. ” 

Oh, you sound so weak. Already driven to your knees, metaphorically, for this man who had as much power over you as you did over him. 

“Yeah, princess?” 

He moves his lips down to your sternum, hot puffs making your nipples perk up from her dormant slumber. They tent underneath the ratty, old t-shirt you’re wearing, the one that used to belong to him, demanding to be sucked and teased.

Caleb is careful to not push your boundaries, but you don’t want any of that.

Grabbing his head, you press it none-too-gently in between the valley of your tits, wordlessly signaling what you need.

His dog tag shines in the low light of his bedroom, the apple charm a glint of red that complements the fog of lust taking over you. Everywhere you look, you feel, is nothing but Caleb.

He presses you flat into the bed, the sheets bunching up under you and in your tight fists. 

“Don’t touch… not yet. Can you follow my orders, baby?” 

There’s no choice for you, but to nod. 

Slowly, like molasses dripping from the lip of a bottle, he wraps his mouth around your turgid, right nipple. The dampness of his saliva seeps past the thin fabric, and you cry out when he bites down on your bud, the brief flash of pain lighting up your nerves from head to toe.

 Slick need saturates the seat of your old sleep pants. You whimper when the head of his cock drives between the cleft of your pussy, digging against your clit. 

Sparks of pleasure ricochet from the tips of your fingers up to your hairline and you groan, mouth falling lax.

He takes his time, swirling his tongue over your tender peak, broad strokes of his tongue spreading more spit and heat, wetting the front of your shirt. It’s methodical, how every stroke of attention stacks up to a building heat throbbing at your core.

A supernova of desire, bulging and waiting to explode.

(And, he hasn’t even fucked you yet).

Caleb moves his attention to your other peak, and you cry out when he nibbles on it, your hands breaking formation from the bed where he’s ordered them to be stationed, and tangling disobediently in his dark hair.

But, he doesn’t chastise you. 

Caleb continues to purl swathes of his tongue over your tender nipple, flickering his darkened gaze up to the line of your jaw as the pleasure unfurls across your heated face.

You choke on another cry when he pries your thighs further apart, settling his bigger build between them. 

“Look at you.” Heated derision drips from his venomous lips, and you lap them up, tilting his head up to taste his lips. You’re not sure how you ended up in this position when it was you who wanted this. The last bit of control you have dissipates, and your body falls open for him like the spine of a well-read book. 

It scares you how much Caleb knows about your body. The small scar above your knee when you crashed your bike into the wide trunk of an oak tree. The grooves of your neck now bear his kisses and marks.

Despite staying true to his word about never getting a girlfriend, Caleb is mysteriously nimble and sure for a virgin. 

“Did you have another girl before me?”

You don’t mean to sound accusatory, but the words fly from your puffy lips and you can’t take them back.

Not when he glances up at you as if you had insulted thirteen generations of his family.

“Uh—no,” he mutters defensively, caustically pushing back his sweat-soaked bangs from his flushed face. “ Excuseeee me, princess. What’s with that tone? You know you’re the only woman I’d ever touch.”

You purse your lips and level him another glare, though it’s tempered by a glowing warmth in your chest. 

“R-really?” 

You hate how whiny you sound, like a psychotic girlfriend. But, Caleb does have a penchant for bringing out the crazy in you when you least expect it.

He brings your knuckles to his lips, feathering a soft kiss on them. “Yeah. Why do you think I took so many cold showers growing up? This little pipsqueak is far too tempting for me.” He punctuates his point with another kiss on the nape of your neck. 

His Adam's apple bobs from the admission, and your eyes widen. 

“Huh. I seeee .” 

You drag your words like him, playfully pinching his cheek. “That’s… kinda sweet.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” his gruffness reminds you of a ruffled puppy, and you laugh, tugging his silver chain with two fingers. 

The scene flickers. The man on top of you cracks, and a fragment of the boy you grew up with glimmers; the past merges with the present, and the essence of who Caleb is grins mischievously right in front of you. 

Like so many times before, he tackles you onto the bed, hands flying underneath your shirt to tickle your sides.

“No! Caleb! I yield! I yield—! ” 

Your infectious laughter bounces across the monochromatic walls of his room and fills his lungs with bubbles of joy. 

“Yeah, you better,” he threatens jokingly. While you’re still giggling, he grabs the hem of your shirt and gives it an experimental tug. When you don’t resist, Caleb pushes the envelope of your consent and lifts the shirt past the smooth terrain of your tummy, inching it up slowly… so slow… 

His fingers are trembling, and you take over, helping him with the last stretch, leaning up to tug your shirt completely off your body. 

Your chest squeezes with a mix of dread and anticipation when he eyes your bare breasts, a myriad of emotions flitting across those deep-set purple eyes.

Need, desire, shame, anger—tenderness.

His eyes speak the truth, even when he remains silent, and no matter how much he changes into the stoic Colonel you now have to coincide with your gentle older brother figure, those irises will always betray his true emotions for you. 

Now, they’re gooey with a feeling neither of you can name, as he peppers more kisses around the plush fat of your breast. Taking his time, he teases you with puffs of hot breath and grazes of his teeth.

Working you up to a crescendo of need before he gives you what you want. 

And god, do you want it.

Your body is arching tighter than a bow ready to strike, so keyed up from his few touches and the previous makeout session. 

“Caleb—”

“Yeah, gotcha.” 

He samples the flavor of your skin, closer now to your nipple. Your thoughts flat lines into a white-hot buzzing hum when he finally— finally —wraps his lips around your tender bud. 

Fuuucckkk. Your keening sigh sends a chill straight to his bones. 

Suckling tenderly, he pulls the taut flesh into the enticing vacuum of his mouth and releases it, forming a small ‘O’ with his puffy lips and moving on to your next breast. 

The twinge of unending sucking and nibbling rubs your tender flesh raw. 

Caleb… Caleb… 

You’re panting like you’re racing a marathon. He leaves a bunch of hickies down the pillowy fat of your tits, making his mark loud and clear on your body for the world to see.

A possessive hint curls on the edges of his smile and he braces himself on his forearms, juicy biceps glistening in the interplay of shadow and light in this muggy room. 

Peeling your glassy eyes at him, you huff, grumbling.

“Tease.”

He laughs heartily at your adorable accusation.

“Never said I wasn’t a right bastard, love,” he coos, cocky and sure. You want to wipe the smirk off his infuriatingly handsome face.

Leaning up, your spit-soaked nipples rub the hard planes of his broad chest, and you tangle your hand in his hair, drawing him down into the plush sin of your eager kisses.

“S-low down,” he huffs, smothered by your smacking little puckers. 

You giggle, a vixen on the loose, needing to rein her mate in. “Nuh-uh. Not until you finally fuck me senseless.”

Caleb cocks a brow. “S’that an invitation, darlin’?” 

Stuttering, you realize your mistake a second too late when he prowls over you, pressing you into the mattress, fluid like a panther locking sights on its prey.

“ Wait— ”

Caleb wastes no time hooking his thumbs under the frayed band of your shorts, tugging it down in staccato drags to mess with you. 

“ Caleb—! ” 

You whine, more turned on than annoyed by his teasing. It’s not until the sight of your mound appears, clinging to the edge of the band like the horizon of a new world beckoning to be explored does he stops, gaping at the sight with reddening ears.

It’s your turn to mess with him. “Cat got your tongue… gege?” 

He stares at the sliver of skin like a blind man feeling the sun on his face for the first time. 

“Shit,” he breathes. “You’re beautiful .” 

Tentatively, he drags the last remaining piece of clothing off your body, his breath lodging in the back of his throat. 

God… he groans. Pretty, little princess… gonna taste you so good.

Two worlds crash, sky to earth, and Caleb’s mouth meets the terrain of your pelvis. Traveling downward, he connects a path from hip to mound, and you feel his tongue sampling this uncharted territory. 

His broad back almost blocks out the light above and god—you’re already panting when the sharp jut of his shoulder blades creates an attractive silhouette sliding down the last few inches of your body, finding his haven in the juncture of your thighs. 

Caleb spreads' em’ nice and wide, making sure to run the tip of his tongue over the cushiony bounce of his lower lip. Shit, you murmur under your breath, before he dips his head and enjoys his meal. 

The tapered edge of his tongue touches your clit, and you lose the last semblance of control. 

You know Caleb’s always been a foodie, and the way he practically feasts on your pussy is no different.

Slick juices smear across his pretty mauve lips, and he slurps you up obscenely. The gloss of his spit lubes you up hotly from the inside, filling you with a pressing slick. 

Oh—mhmph… you groan, panting heavily. 

How was he so goddamn good with his tongue?

“Nghmm,” he moans, looking up at you with drunken purple eyes, lost in the sweetness of this sin he can’t stop devouring. “You taste heavenly.” 

Caleb presses into your pussy, treating her like an old lover he wants to French kiss till dawn. 

The high bridge of his nose bumps against your tender clitty, and he takes this chance to smear his lips all over your folds, rubbing your bundle of nerves raw. 

Your back lifts off from the bed and you can’t make sense of where you start and he ends.

“H-ahhh,” you moan, and twine your fingers in his hair, tugging.

“Easy,” he groans, lifting his wet, plump lips from where your core is inhaling him in. “Y’gonna make me bald in no time, princess…”

A senseless dribble of drool trickles past your lips, and you feel the thick toughness of his finger swiping it up, popping it into his mouth. Caleb grins, spreading your legs wider, and lifts your lower body off the bed. The sight of a dark spot seeping the front of his pants makes your breathing stutter, and you can’t keep your eyes away from such a lewd show. 

“See what’cha do to me, sweetness?” He moans and gingerly takes your hand with his right one to press it right on his crotch.

Holy shit. Your eyes bulge wide. 

He’s fucking huge.

You lick your lips in nerves, unable to tear your eyes away from the undulating mass of his rock-hard abs moving with every ragged breath he takes. 

“Is that…?” 

Caleb smirks, a dark look flitting in his eyes. “All for you?” he finishes. “Yeah, sweetness.” 

As if goading you to take the next step, he tips his head to the side, looking at you from under his thick lashes, his magnetic eyes pinning you to the bed.

“Wanna see it?” 

He guides your hand to rock against the hard bulge, and you swallow when you feel him twitch under your palm.

The reality of your position under him hits you, and you feel as if every breath you take might make you float up to the ceiling. Your mind is racing, a cacophony of thoughts that swirl and blend into one pulsing thrum of more, more, more. 

“Y-yeah.” 

He grunts at your admittance and steers your fingers to the edge of his band. “There you go—tug it down, princess…” 

You do as he says, and gasp when the crown of his cock comes into view. 

Girthy, thick. Veiny. 

A dark, almost violet-inky trail of hair leads down to the rise of his pubic bone, and you stare as the curve of his cock becomes more pronounced. Flaccid at 6 inches, he would rise to greater heights once released into the open air, and you panic, closing your fist around his still-clothed head as you beg him with your eyes to pause.

“Hold on…” you gasp. “Jus’ wait a minute.”

Caleb pauses, his eyes flashing. 

“You… don’t want this?” 

The implicit question hangs heavy in the air. 

You don't want me?

It pains you how quick he is to incriminate himself as undesirable when it's the furthest thing from the truth. 

“No!” you mumble and gently hook your fingers under his chin to get him to look at you. “I just… need a second to recalibrate cause… holy shit… you’re massive—”

He guffaws, shaking his head, boyish face lit up in joy. “S’that all? Aw, princess…” he coos and flicks your nose with his index finger. “Swear, you can be so adorable sometimes…” he teases, and you huff.

You take a deep breath and center yourself, before finding the courage to proceed with tugging down his boxers and sweatpants. 

“Okay…” you murmur, and un-fist the soft material, dragging it down with bated breath. 

There he is, in all his glory. 

He’s warm and alive in your hands, and you give the girthy base a generous pump. His smell hits you—musk, man, briny… 

Is this how a real man feels? You think your obvious lack of experience makes you faint with worry. 

Would Caleb notice? 

Would he hate how you don’t even know what to do with a cock? 

What if he doesn’t want you to touch him—deciding you’re too inexperienced for his tastes…? 

“Shit—” Caleb hisses, taken off guard by your sudden movement. “You’re killing me here, princess…” 

In such simple praise, you find your footing once more against the tidal wave of insecurity. 

Pushing aside your worries, you hum, taking your time to explore his body. 

The divots of his abs, the crinkles of his girth as it sits so pretty on his lower body like a pair of crown jewels. 

You run your thumb over the pulsing globes of his balls, feeling the soft, almost velvety skin dimpling under your touch. 

Caleb grunts, and you flicker your gaze to him. His brows are furrowed, and he looks a second away from busting a vein, his face a light shade of puce.

“Caleb?” You softly call out to him in worry. “Are you—?”

“Yeah,” he gasps, and shakes his head, closing his eyes. “Jus’... didn’t expect you to feel this good…”

Good? 

You feel… good? 

Licking your lips, you focus your concentration on the fleshy plump head of his cock. If he has sensitive balls, Caleb is practically a timebomb of nerves on the tip of his arousal. 

Flushed and sticky with pre, you swipe your thumb through the crease of his slit, gathering the milky white deposit and slowly bringing it to your mouth.

Salty. With a hint of bitterness.

Surprisingly, he tastes amazing—

Large hands yank your away from his cock. 

He doesn’t give you the luxury of time to enjoy him. 

Your world suddenly tilts and Caleb’s growl is loud in your ear. He has you pressed into the sheets, your face in the soft cotton, and his large palms kneading the doughy rise of your bare ass. 

Smack!

You gasp and jerk back, indignation at the tip of your tongue. But, it dissipates when he drivels a finger right into your core, sinking fully into the heat of your pussy. 

Your scream is muffled into the pillowy sheets, and he wastes no time in hooking his meaty digit up, hitting a spongy spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

With his other hand, he continues to spank you, little pert taps that grow in intensity as his frustration builds.

“Look - at - how - wet - you’re - getting,” he snarls, and withdraws his fingers to show you the trails webbing in between them, proof of your not-so-innocent reciprocation. Caleb taps his slick fingers to your lips, and you part them obediently, half-thrills of fear and lust curling up your spine.

The taste of you perforates your tongue. Sweet and musky, you've sampled your arousal before, but never from his hand. Gagging lightly on his digits, your eyes roll back into your head and you feel his fingers tickling your uvula.

Shit, he curses under his breath. You're too cute, Pipsqueak… too precious.

He moans as you gurgle his name. Cwaleb…

Throaty and sweet, you're the perfect symphony and he could listen to you all night. 

Caleb withdraws his sticky fingers from the back of your throat with a damp, little ‘pop’ as his spit-slicked digits tap your cheek.

“Fuck, you're too perfect .”

He sets you back on your back, your pouty, glossy lips twisting in a smirk. Caleb hooks your ankles around his shoulders, and—showing he's about as virginal as a town bicycle—smooths his thumb through the mess of your folds.

His pointer catches on the lip of your gaping, swollen pussy, and he hums when he smears your love juices all around, making sure to get it as messy and creamy as possible.

Inching his thumb past the loosened ring of muscle, he grins. 

The gooey, silky mess coats him to the knuckle. You're already pretty free and easy for him to slip his cock in.

“Just a little more, sweetness,” he coos, twisting his thumb, slipping it out only to replace it with his index finger. His now free thumb smears the cream of your arousal around, catching on the pearly mound of your clit as he deepens the pressure.

Nghh ahhh, Caleb! You cry out. 

Your cheeks are warm, eyes glossy with heat and Caleb can't get enough of the way you're panting and twisting on the sheets, writhing like a prey caught in his trap.

It's too much. Too fucking much.

Desire turns your thoughts hazy. There’s a swollen spot inside of you that he manipulates with ease, pressing down on it— “S’good girl,” he murmurs into your neck. “Taking my fingers so well. You make me so damn proud, darlin’.” 

You’re panting, lapping at the sweat beading on your upper lip.

It’s too hot. 

He feels like a fucking furnace above you.

Bigger than any man you ever imagined to take, Caleb is a beast trapped in the body of the boy you love. His scent drenches you—cedar wood body soap bleeding into your pores, marking you as his. The scent of his aftershave grazes your cheek as he leans in to give you a sloppy, full-tongued kiss. 

Mhmmph—you mewl, clinging onto him like ivy.

Your thighs wrap around his waist instinctively, and everything is primal when you finally give yourself up to him. 

His plump, weepy tip catches on your pulsing opening, and he groans at the briefest contact of slick mingling together. You’re so wet, your pussy juices web with his pre, silvery strands clinging to the lip of that little hole he wants so badly to sink into.

Like the deepest tunnel in space, Caleb wants to venture where no man will ever go. He grasps the head of his cock and guides it right to where the blackhole of all his desires resides, rimming the opening where he swears nirvana throbs out his name.

Caleb… she calls out to him. Claim me. Come in me. 

He answers her signal, forehead smushed with yours, his sweat dripping into your slack mouth.

It’s a strange sensation.

Fingers. Tampons. The occasional vibrator. 

None of it can compare to the sheer volume and intensity of a real cock pushing past the envelope of your flesh. The ridges and bumps feel magnified as if there’s a forcefield of pleasure accompanying such penetration. Like it’s sucking you into a different dimension. 

Your head spins and your gasps sound far away, like someone has plunged you right into a swimming pool. 

The only anchor you have is Caleb’s broad shoulders.

You hold onto him as he rocks his hips forward, pleasure unfurling down your spine like a current. 

Fuck… Caleb… 

There’s nothing else in your mind but him.

The sound of his groans. The pinched furrow of ecstasy on his brow. His swollen lips hovering over yours. 

Even the dim lighting of the room makes you feel cocooned in his embrace, safe from the horrors of the world. 

It’s effortless, really, how he grasps your hips and opens you up to him like you’re a centerpiece dish all bared out and vulnerable. 

Nimble hands arrange you into the meanest mating press as your legs dangle above you uselessly, swaying with every hard roll of his thrusts. 

Caleb fucks like he wants to put you through the mattress. 

There’s nothing romantic about this—a man hellbent on making you his. His cockhead smushes with your cervix in a romantic dance of fleeting French kisses. Marking you for days. God, you whine. God, you’re—

So good.

So good.

Oh, Caleb. 

More. More. 

You don’t even notice the light schmear of blood coating his length. Or, how the pinch of pain is overridden by the messy plap plap plap of your bodies meeting together.

You’ve just given up your virginity to the boy you love—the man who’s been with you through hell and back. 

Caleb grabs your ankles and presses it down onto the pillows above your head, plunging his cock in and out, in and out. It’s sloppy and you’re making a mess everywhere.

Foamy white creams at the base of his cock, dribbling onto the dark sheets of his duvet.

Your body rocks with him, the bed creak creak creaking under the brunt of his thrusts. 

He dwarfs you, a mountain of a man bruising the same golden spot that makes your toes curl in your periphery.

“Fuck,” he drawls, purple eyes gouging on your every reaction. “You— mhm —’re squeezin’ down so good, princess.” He huffs, dew drops of sin splattering from his lips and lapped up by your tongue on his jaw. Caleb groans, his hips stuttering. “Can’t get enough of you,” he starts to babble, face flush and eyes heavy with intoxication. Your pussy is the perfect drug for him. 

He starts to whine, dog tags slicked with sweat and heavy with his body heat thudding against your jaw. You part your lips and bite down on the metal, tasting salt and tang. “You—ngmmm—feel too good… so good—ah, shit, sweetness—” Caleb curses, thick fingers dimpling into the flesh of your hips and tipping you up to be fuller of him. 

C-can’t hold back, darlin’, he almost whimpers. I-I can’t… you gotta come with me. Come on, sweetness, give it to me… give me your cum, baby. That’s it, baby. Ooohhh, yes. Yes. There she is. Atta girl. Goooddd girl. Stay with me, baby. Don’t—lift your hips, fuck. Lemme rub that pretty pearl, darlin’. You look so good cummin’ all over me—

Your screams pierce the night air, echoing with a clap of thunder outside the windows. But, you can’t pay attention to storms, not when the biggest one is wrecking you apart.

Caleb moves like a man possessed, greasin’ his thumb around your pebbled clit, changing the angle so he’s pushing even deeper—

“Caleb!” 

Your back arches off the bed, till only the crown of your head remains on the pillows. Caleb pushes back, drowning you back into the sheets, his whole body pressing down— “Shit, nghmmm! —” he grounds out in a low voice. 

Almost a growl. 

It makes your insides shiver around his cock. He doesn’t jackhammer you like those oiled-up studs do in pornos. 

He takes it intensely, grinding his hips, injecting his rhythm with a few punctuating thrusts. 

“Good —” you choke out. “—fuck me so good— ”

Yeah? He teases, dark bangs falling in his face, covering one of his magnetic violet irises. 

Your body tenses, abs clenching, and he groans.

Tipping you further down the precipice, Caleb ducks his head and engorges his wet, hot mouth around your swollen nipples. He pinches the other one with his free hand, the spare still frigging your clit with the intensity of a madman. 

Your eyes roll back into your head.

You clench—hard.

White hot paint splatters behind your closed eyes, imprinting on your lids and the world fades into hypersound as you scream:

Caaaleeeebbbb!

Oh, shit. 

Your walls massage him better than any fleshlight could. Definitely a thousand times better than his hand. 

He’s a goner right there and then. 

Thick, fat spurts of hot, sticky cum fill you up. Neither he nor you care about what this means, pumping you to the brim until wet, gummy dribbles splotch down onto the bed. Caleb shudders like a great beast, and with one last, heaving push, he breeds you. 

.

.

.

There’s nothing else in the ringing quiet but your ragged breath. 

The world slowly comes back—a flickering flash of thunder. Caleb’s soft groan. 

He pulls himself out, and the effect is a reverse weirdness of when he fucked himself in. 

It leaves you gaping. Empty. You whine and he chuckles tiredly, gathering you into his arms.

All's silent for a few moments until you hear the bed creak and his weight off the mattress. Your blurry eyes open to find his massive, muscular frame in all its naked glory ambling to the bathroom. In a few moments, a warm softness glides between your puffy, well-abused folds, and you moan, twitching away.

“I know, I know,” he soothes. “But, I gotta get you cleaned up. Stay still, sweets.”

He wipes you down until you’re clean again, and tosses the soiled rag to the floor. Your arms open on autopilot for him, and Caleb chuckles, sinking back into the ring of warmth your body gives him. 

Sighing into your hair, he tightens his grip around you. Outside, the eddies of raindrops swirl down the window panes, and another flash of thunderclaps. He slowly presses a kiss to your head, holding you tighter as a new storm rages unceasingly. 

Caleb yanks the blankets up to your waist, and uses himself as a weighted one, pressing you into the soft mattress, much to your bubbling giggles. He smiles, loving the sound, and gently flicks your chin with his index finger.

“I didn’t hurt you, didn’t I?” 

He moves to your side and you turn around, propping your head under your arm to gaze at him, a lovesick expression etched on your face.

Caleb mirrors your movement, also sliding his arm under his head, his other slung casually on your hip.

“Nah,” you admit after a beat of silence. “Didn’t even feel it.”

He pretends to pout. “Y’know, if you say that in a different context, I would get really, really hurt, Pipsqueak.”

You groan, and smack his chest. “Just like you to ruin the mood.”

He catches your hand, pressing your palm to his cheek with a boyish laugh. 

“I’m kiddin'! Kidding, darlin’. C’mere—” 

Yoinking you closer, he smears a kiss onto the nape of your neck. 

As you trace his arm, he hums.

“You… really blew my mind,” he admits sheepishly. 

“Huh. I did?” It’s your turn to tease him now. “Well… I guess so did you.”

You yelp when he pinches your ass playfully. 

“‘Oh, Calebbbb ’.” He mocks your earlier moans. “‘Ahhhh moreee moreee— ’” 

“Hey—!” 

He lets you smack his chest, snickering in glee like a stupid boy. 

“Juussstt kiddin’, sweets.” He kisses you right on your pouty lips. “Knew you’d be perfect. You’re always perfect.”

And, your heart melts.

“Really?” You whisper as a subtle flash of lightning illuminates one side of his grin. Warmth fills you up when he nods.

“Is it sad to say I’ve been dreamin’ about you like this for eons?” 

You shake your head, a smile playing on the corners of your lips. Slightly breathless, you respond: 

“I’ve been… thinking about you that way, too, baby.”

You expect him to make a stupid joke, or to diffuse the tender moment with his snark. 

But, Caleb doesn’t do that. He loves being in this delicate bubble with you—and only you. 

“Good,” he hums. “Because I’m not done with you yet, sweets—not by a lonnggg shot.”

a/n: comments and reblogs are very much appreciated ! thank you for reading ;D

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