#yeah its the clear blue sky again.

[mmm-asbestos]

yk sometimes u can feel that mild psychosis coming up and ur like. well at least there is artistic inspiration there somewhere

[sttoru]

gojo satoru was a liar.

“you’re my first love.”

to say you were baffled by this new drop of information by your lover was an understatement. you’d been dating satoru for a month now—you were friends before that. you know his playful personality well enough to be able to look through all of his jokes and teasing comments.

“hah, tha’s a funny one.” you chuckle sheepishly as you continue to gaze at the sky. you were standing at the rooftop of a building after finishing a mission together, the beautiful sunset a welcomed change after the chaos.

there was no way satoru — the gojo satoru — hadn’t been in love with anyone before you. his good looks, his power, his status, his money. . . you were sure satoru had been with many women before you. he easily could if he wanted to after all.

“not joking.” satoru frowns as you don’t believe him. it wasn’t a frown out of frustration at your reaction, but rather in a sad pouty way. his slender fingers run over the knuckles of your hand which he held;

“i’m completely serious—only ever had eyes for you.”

the doubt in your eyes was like a dagger through his heart.

“could you please believe me?”

you turn your head and tilt it up to look at the white-haired man—the light illuminating his features perfectly. especially those glossy lips. those kissable glossy lips that seem to be a magnet, begging to meet yours.

there was no way. you? out of all people he could get. ‘yeah, right,’ is what you thought to yourself. though, you knew better than to doubt satoru when he spoke so seriously to you. that usual jokey tone nowhere to be found in his smooth voice.

a rare sight; satoru being completely serious. without bursting into laughter or making even the smallest of jokes.

“yeah. i believe you.” you nod, not knowing what to say to the unexpected information he decided to share. a silence, only interrupted by the distant noises of cars honking, makes you once again realise how serious this conversation had turned out to be.

“no, ya don’t. i can see it in your eyes, baby.”

‘baby’ — your heart skips a beat. you were the only one he has ever referred to with those adoring pet and nicknames. the only one satoru’s allowed himself to be vulnerable with.

satoru’s hand finds its way to the side of your face, fingertips scratching the skin near your ear gently as he guides your body towards his. like two unstoppable forces, your bodies press against one another, feeling like one.

“look at me,” your boyfriend mutters and you do as told, your doubts instantly clearing once the sheer adoration and love radiating from his magical blue eyes tell you enough. that’s enough evidence to support his first comment —

“mhm. that’s it.” satoru sighs softly and leans in to kiss you softly, his lips on yours making you dizzy in the best ways possible, his other hand on the small of your back to push you closer to him than you already were.

the kiss was the cherry on top.

once you pulled away, the love in his gaze hasn’t faded at all. in fact, the intensity of his love for you seemed to have increased. satoru was absolutely smitten with you.

he smiles gently once he sees the realisation hit you. that was all he wanted to achieve by saying what he said to you; the pure joy on your face once you come to know that you were indeed his first ever love. the first person he’s loved in all those years he’s lived;

“my pretty girl — my one and only.”

gojo satoru was anything but a liar.

[solemnd]

Falter

Caitlyn Kirmman x fem!reader

summary: You betrayed her, so why did Caitlyn's heart ache at the sight of you wounded?

warning: minimal gore (Wounds, cuts, blood), death, angst, mentions of fighting

A/N: short one!!! But yeah I've had this idea for awhile 😊

—

Caitlyn sat upright, her body slumped weakly under the weight of her injuries. Her blurred gaze tracked the dark red drops of blood falling from the cut from her left eye, splattering onto the ground below. Her trembling right hand pressed tightly against the stab wound on her side, trying to stop the bleeding, but her strength was wavering.

With effort, her gaze lifted. The soft light of the blue sky makes her blink. When her vision cleared, it landed on you. You lay motionless on the ground, the spear Ambessa had wielded gave you a large cut on your stomach. Blood seeped from the wound, pooling beneath you, as your chest rose and fell in increasingly shallow breaths.

Caitlyn’s heart twisted painfully, her grief a raw and an open wound. She wanted to hate you. Desperately. She wanted to curse your name for the betrayal that cut deeper than any blade. You had worked for Ambessa behind her back, yet somehow made your way back into her life.

But even as rage coiled in her chest, she couldn’t ignore the truth. You’d had your chance to kill her—and you didn’t. When the moment came, you faltered. Ambessa had expected that, but Caitlyn didn't. Instead, you turned against her orders, fighting by Caitlyn and Mel's side to stop her. But it was your defiance that cost you. Ambessa didn’t hesitate, striking you down before Caitlyn’s horrified eyes.

A broken sob escaped her lips. Why? Why did you come back into her life? Why did you comfort her after her mother’s death, hold her when she was at her most vulnerable, and make her fall in love with you again? Only to shatter her trust with the truth that you had been working for Noxus all along?

The questions gnawed at her. Had your serving for Noxus begin the moment you left Piltover at 15? Or was it later, when your letters stopped coming, despite your promises to keep in touch? Caitlyn felt sick with the uncertainty, her anger rising even more at the memory of your betrayal.

But that anger couldn’t drown out the ache in her heart. You had defended her—fought for her—even as it cost you your life.

God, why did it have to be you?

Her breath hitched as she saw your hand begin to loosen its grip on your wound. Caitlyn couldn’t stop herself. With sheer determination, she tried to crawl toward you, her arms shaking as she struggled to hold the weight of her body. She didn’t know if she was reaching to help you or to curse you one last time, but it didn’t matter. Her body betrayed her, collapsing under its own weight.

A sharp cry of pain escaped her as she hit the ground, her vision swimming with tears. Despite her pain, she kept her eyes on you, watching your chest rise one more time, praying for a miracle that she knew wouldn't happen.

When your body finally stilled, Caitlyn broke. Silent tears streamed from her uninjured eye, her shoulders shaking as sobs wracked her wounded frame. She felt like she was shattering into pieces, caught between the memory of your betrayal and the sight of your lifeless form lying before her.

She almost wished you had never returned—never reignited the fire in her heart for you—because now she would forever carry the unbearable weight of loving and losing you.

[i-mean-y-not]

The Boy Next Door

Armin is the quintessential boy next door. No, quite literally, his family moved in when he was thirteen and you were twelve.

He was always reserved.

You watched each other grow up. From a distance, of course, seeing as you never spoke to each other outside of neighborly dinners.

While you ran in different social circles, you swear he was always in your peripheral. You tended to stick with the crowd that tolerated school but was prepared to skip a class at a moments notice.

His group of friends, however didn’t really… suit him. Onyankopon was this calm yet smoldering guy, but remained casual in his social settings. You’d never seen him utter a word but his eyes spoke volumes. Connie was the definition of hyper. With his expressive and colorful wardrobe and the almost manic way he approached everything. Eren was one of the most nonchalant people you’ve ever seen. His hair was always in a half up – half down style, and his eyes pierced through even the thinnest of gazes.

Then, there was Armin.

The one that wore a collared shirt and a pullover with the name of a prestigious university on it almost daily. Armin screamed teenage dream. With his signature floppy blonde hair, and quiet laugh that he never showcased more than twice in your presence.

Armin had lofty dreams. Claiming since he was all the fourteen that he was going to Yale. And despite his friend group, he was determined to do just that. While he’s getting acceptance letters, no doubt and planning to move halfway across the world, you were stuck. Confused, without a clue, aspiration, or goal that you truly wanted to pursue.

You’ve been accepted to your local college and plan on taking your general studies there, but after that? It’s all up in the air. Graduation comes and goes and the finality sinks in.

You toss and turn in your bed the week after and find yourself sneaking out of the house to sit on the beach adjacent to your home. The ocean waves lull you into a peaceful slumber and before you know it, you’re being gently shaken awake. Groggily, you pop an eye open and you’re immediately met with blue.

The ocean has nothing on this blue, though. This blue is a mixture between the sky on its clearest day and hues that streak the sky on the darkest night. This blue stares at you in worry as you hurriedly sit up despite your obvious fatigue.

“The hell is wrong with you?” you murmur, slapping at Armin’s hands. He responds by throwing them up in quiet surrender. He sits on the sand next to you and this is the closest you’ve been in about a year.

“Been a minute.”

And yeah that voice is still the same.

It’s the perfect blend of soothing and gruff and you’re tempted to fall right back asleep again after a three measly words.

“It has,” you respond.

“You okay?” he counters. Just then the breeze flies between the two of you and you inhale the eucalyptus scent that flows off him.

“Fine.” you reply.

That’s all you have and with an awkward yet self assured stumble, you get up, shake the sand off, and start the trek back to your house.

It’s not that you dislike Armin.

No, that was the farthest from the truth. You liked him, a little too much. A crush would be an understatement. You yearned for him. Looked out for him at school, at parties, even through your second story window.

You don’t really know when it started. Somewhere between the mandatory dinners and being semi-friends in middle school.

But he’s never seen you that way and that’s okay.

So, you steer clear. You always have and you fear that you always will. But he has other plans, it seems. Because as the summer approaches its end he’s everywhere.

He’s at the beach when you can’t sleep. He’s at the convenience store when you run in for a ginger ale. He’s even at the pool that you barely frequent because you can’t swim.

And now he’s at your local diner sitting right next to you at the dine-in counter.

You don’t notice that it’s him at first. Content to enjoy your greasy cheeseburger and cookies and cream milkshake, you feel someone take the seat next to you while you munch happily on a fry.

The twenty something waitress bats her eyes and asks for the order of the patron. They pause and respond, “Can I have a vanilla milkshake with a large fry, heavy on the seasoning?”

Your head snaps to the right at that oddly specific order. And there he was. You don’t greet him, too flummoxed by the intense way he’s already staring at you.

You’re content to swivel back around in your seat and sip at your milkshake once more. He doesn’t stay silent for long, however.

“Hi,” he greets.

And the sigh you give is more like a seventy mile an hour gust of wind in a hurricane. “Can I help you?”

His eyes don’t waver for even a millisecond. He hums to himself, a quiet, raspy sound that tapers off before he replies. “You can actually.”

Your eyes blink owlishly at him as the waitress sits his order down in front of him. Instead of answering, your eyebrows almost meet in the middle of your forehead. “Go out with me.”

And you almost fall backwards onto the unsterile floor. The fry that was meant for your mouth now hangs limply in your hand.

What is going on?

“Check please!” You exclaim.

Now his head slams back as if he’s been physically assaulted. The waitress scurries over, check in hand. You take it from her, and almost instantly, a gentle hand covers yours.

“I got it,” Armin murmurs with a smile that graces just the corner of his lips.

“No,” you adamantly refuse. You already felt hot at the mere thought of going a date with him and if you stay any longer, you’ll cry from the need to shout an affirmative for everyone to hear. So, instead of reading the amount due, you slam down two twenty dollar bills and book it.

It’s two weeks later when there’s a small gathering at Armin’s home. A going away dinner, as one would put it, and you pretend to be sick in order to stay home.

There’s no need to rub elbows with a guy that just acknowledged your existence two Wednesdays ago. So, you sit this one out. You’re more than happy to pass the time under your blanket and streaming a show you’ve seen a thousand times.

You’re fading into an almost slumber when there’s a quiet knock at your door. Your eyes blink open blearily and you hum an almost silent, “Come in.”

A blonde head peeps in and cerulean eyes peer at you from your doorway. You fold your lips in and sit up slightly as an invitation and he’s opening the door so he’ll fit. The slight tilt of your head must give away your confusion so he holds up a paper bag and your head dips even further.

“I heard you were sick,” he offers by way of explanation. The way you have to physically restrain yourself from jumping on him is ridiculous, because what?

Why is he making it so hard for you?

You just wanted him to go off to school and let you have your sad girl hours in peace.

“You can leave it, thanks.” You offer with a small nod.

“You don’t even know what it is, though?” Biting the inside of your cheek you decide to swallow this ridiculous pill of faux friendliness. “Ramen,” he answers before you get a syllable out of your mouth.

And you’re surprised that you don’t have a raging headache because of all the odd movements you’ve forces your cranium into. Ramen is your favorite food, especially on days when you were feeling sick. Ramen was your favorite food when you were feeling…anything. So, the fact that it’s here, steaming in his hand confuses you.

“I went to that place you like,” he says. Which makes you think that this is making less and less sense.

Upon looking at the logo on the bag, you realize that it is in fact from your favorite shop which is perplexing. Thirty minutes each way for one bowl of ramen for a neighbor that you barely speak to just doesn’t add up.

You sit up abruptly. So fast that he flinches back slightly at the unanticipated movement. Your mouth opens slightly in quiet awe and your eyes have to be as wide as they can possibly get. By the blush on his cheeks that you can barely see, you’re informed of something you’d never suspected.

“Shit,” he mumbles, “This isn’t how I wanted it to go.”

And it’s all clicking now.

Slowly, the past seven years are seen through a different lens. He was always in your peripheral because he was looking for you too. But no matter how much you wish it, you don’t want to assume.

So in the most quiet voice you’ve ever spoken you whisper, “Armin do you…like me?”

He laughs; like full on laughs. He laughs so hard you suck your teeth in annoyance and shake your head in slight disappointment. He finally calms down and offers the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen grace a human being.

“Is that not obvious?”

Your jaw gapes in surprise. All this time the person you’ve been pining after wanted you too? Shock is the first emotion, then comes confusion and finally there’s anger.

You sigh. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He rubs his lips together in quiet consternation. “Why didn’t you?”

The small smile that tugs at your lips is proof that this is already having a toe curling, stomach lurching effect on you.

With a smile that touches your very marrow, you whisper, “All this time?”

He simply nods, grin stretching his face and echoes your sentiment. “Yeah, all this time.”

And because you wanna put up a fight and for your own curiosity you ask, “What did you order me?”

At the same time he inquires, “Can I kiss you?” Your nod is almost immediate. His movements are the same and your eyes flutter closed with the first press of his lips onto yours. His mouth works seamlessly against your own and his hands begin to roam. His lips claim yours so fervently that you have no room to even breathe.

You grab his hair roughly as a way to ground the both of you and he groans desperately. Your toes curl from the sound alone and with a small whimper he’s murmuring against your lips. “Please.”

“Yes,” you answer the question that wasn’t even spoken.

His mouth slowly detaches from yours and his eyes flutter open and the blue is long gone. His eyes are now an almost iridescent shade of indigo. And you have to gulp to control what might come tumbling out of your mouth.

Before you utter a word, his mouth is back on you. This time it’s on your throat, then your neck, and he’s traveling further and oh…

“Wait, Arm-”

He doesn’t really give you much of an option. Your body is dragged down until your legs have no choice but to butterfly open for you to be comfortable.

“ I just wanna see you.”

And you slowly realize, that is the problem. That whole quiet and mysterious illusion he gave off was a cover that you’re beginning to see right through. But his voice is as slow and sweet as molasses when he reassures softly, “Just a peek, gorgeous.”

You can’t really refuse that, can you? So you gulp and your inexperience shows when your hands hover in the air awkwardly.

“Here,” he declares, and places your hand atop the mop of curls that is his hair. The ramen he brought is cast aside as he settles on the floor so he’s in a sort of crouch. Like a leopard waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting gazelle. The analogy, you realize, is fitting for the situation you come to understand when he slides your panties down and peeks up at you. Your eyes widen and snap shut almost violently and with a small chuckle he hums.

“That won’t do.” Your eyes blow right back open as soon as you feel his tongue lick its way inside you. A breath whooshes out of you in guilty pleasure and his eyes haven’t left yours yet.

He licks long and thick stripes everywhere and you almost cry in fascination.

You’re not a shy person.

Not at all, but you’re afraid that the sounds you’ll make will be less than sexy. So you stay quiet and that’s the only mistake you’ll make tonight.

He grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulders and that’s when the sounds force their way out of you. Every noise you make is either a gasp, cry, or whimper and the encouragement he gives makes you gush. The way he slurps at you should be embarrassing but you can’t find a breath to take let alone a care to give.

His name is on your lips and as your stomach starts to knot and your abdominal muscles cave in, you can’t help but smile.

Then it comes. Your toes curl so hard they crack and your mouth opens on a silent scream. Who knew? The boy next door was now a man who gave you the best—the first���orgasm of your life.

Your eyes blink slowly down at him and the moistness around his mouth should bother you, but you chuckle to yourself in delight.

Ever the gentlemen, he slides your panties back and places a kiss square on your clit and you twitch without giving your body permission to. He gets up and brushes off his khakis and you pretend not to see the very obvious stain that resides there. You fade out slowly after that, body becoming disconnected from the world and slowly fading into unconsciousness.

“Thank you,” you almost slur.

You see the whites of his teeth in response. “It was my pleasure.”

You nod, trying your best to hold onto this moment and right before you slip off into dreamland you murmur, “I love you.”

[zablife]

This Has to Stop

John Shelby x wife reader

Summary: John's dangerous work is taking a toll on him and your marriage so you confront him, demanding he spend more time at home. Torn between his loyalty to you and his brothers, John lashes out in frustration and you must ask yourself if it's time to give up on the man you love.

A/N: This was inspired by a request originally sent to the lovely @runnning-outof-time. Ty for trusting me with it, K!

Warnings: mention of drinking, pregnancy

The shrill ring of the telephone cut sharply into the quiet of the evening, trilling above the giggles of the children. Their little heads popped up one by one at the sound, looking to see if you would rise from the table to answer it. You'd allowed John to install the contraption on one condition, calls would never interrupt family time. Now that seemed to be a long lost promise, considering how often he used it himself to tell you he'd be home late.

"Y/n?" John's voice rasped at the end of the line. The way he drew out the syllables with a slight slur indicated his exhaustion and the pints he'd drunk with Arthur to tamper the stress of working for Tommy.

However, your sympathy was being sapped away with your dwindling patience. Constantly left to care for the children and keep a home he hardly saw, you'd had enough. "Let me guess....don't wait up?" you rushed out in a huffed breath.

John cleared his throat and you could imagine him shifting his weight awkwardly where he stood in the betting shop. Guilt dripped from his voice as he admitted,"Yeah, Tommy needs me to..."

"Do what you like," you snapped, unwilling to hear tonight's excuse for missing dinner and bedtime. "You always do," you added bitterly, slamming the receiver down.

-------------

You didn't see your husband until the sky began turning a watery blue violet, the growing light seeping around the curtains and across your bleary eyes which hadn't closed all night. You tried to convince yourself it was the energetic child in your belly that kept you from your rest, but you knew it was more likely the absence of John's warm body by your side.

John tiptoed into the bedroom in stocking feet, giving a small gasp of surprise when he noticed you watching his stealthy movements.

"Good morning," you sighed softly, arm outstretched toward him.

Relieved to hear the anger in your voice had dissipated to its usual dulcet melody, John approached. Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, his large hand came to rest over your swollen stomach. He was rewarded with a sharp kick that made him break out in the lopsided grin you'd fallen in love with long ago.

"We missed you," you offered as he returned to unbuttoning his shirt.

"Fuck, I missed you," he admitted sadly, leaning in to kiss you with a tenderness that made you weepy.

John pulled away, hooking your chin with his finger to bring your gaze to his deep blue eyes. You'd nearly lost yourself in the comfort of his affection before he added softly, "Please don't cry. Things will get better."

Your brow furrowed at the empty promise you'd heard time and time again. "It will only be better once you stand up to your brother," you asserted.

His hand fell away from your face and a chill settled over you immediately. He clenched his fist at his side, frustration building in his chest as he whispered harshly, "Look, I don't have a choice."

You emitted a breathy note of disappointment as his posture grew rigid, jaw clenching tightly in profile.

He didn't even try to read your eyes, afraid to see the damage he was causing. Of course he knew his work was taking him away from you too often. It had become routine to slip out into the inky blackness as you snored softly, only to return to the same sight of crushing darkness. No light, no love to be felt, only the monotony of routine.

"You have a say in your own life," you reminded him. "Start by having a rest, hmm? What time is it anyway?" Your fingers deftly slipped into his pocket to retrieve his watch, a bit of paper falling out with it.

Even in the dim light, the stark contrast of the black star against the paper caught your eye. John reached for it at the same moment as you, but you'd already begun to read the ghastly instructions.

"What are you becoming?" you asked your husband.

"This is our business, we Shelbys," he reminded you, snatching the small note from your fingertips. As he spoke, your eyes drifted to his open shirt front and the scars splayed across his torso from a recent altercation in Chinatown.

"Turning you into Arthur, another mad dog to unleash on his enemies?," you argued.

John scrubbed a hand down his face, holding his temper with the children asleep on the other side of the thin wall.

However, as he rubbed his temples deep in thought, you could feel the tension growing, loyalties strained to the breaking point. He finally snapped, kicking the bedside table with a harsh thud.

Though it wasn't unusual for him to break things these days, your body jumped in surprise. You knew he could never hurt you or the children, but you were growing more concerned about his fraying nerves. Placing a hand to his shoulder to ground him, you felt the taut muscle beneath which held his burdens.

Despite your resentment of his predicament, your heart ached for your kind, loving husband. That was the man you attempted to coax out as you placed your cheek to his back. "You're a good man," you whispered reassuringly. "Don't let Tommy change that with his ambition and endless demands."

You felt him inhale a deep breath to quell the raging battle inside his head and you seized the moment to pull him into bed with you. Tugging at his shoulders lightly, you hummed soothingly to him as you gently commanded, "Lie down."

But to your dismay, he rebuffed you with a shake of his head. "I only came home to change...M sorry," he apologized quickly before standing to gather fresh clothes.

Staring at him in bewilderment, you rose from the bed to follow him about the room pleading, "You can't be serious! It's half five and you haven't slept or eaten."

John's hands trembled as he attempted to close a drawer, head hung low as he felt the effect of his sleep deprivation on his coordination. He couldn't allow you to glimpse weakness, however, resisting your soft embrace as he explained vaguely, "I have a duty."

"To family," you insisted, digging your nails into his forearm to stop him leaving.

"Yeah? Which family?" he returned so quickly he'd hardly realized the powerful meaning behind his words.

"I'll pretend you didn't just ask that," you mumbled numbly, face crumbling the moment he disappeared out the door.

-----------------

The sun was still visible, if only a sliver above the roofline of the houses on Watery Lane, when John's boots came crashing down upon the cobblestones. Hurrying toward home, he gripped a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his fist, rehearsing an apology he knew was long overdue.

He was careful to remove his boots at the door and hang his hat and coat in their proper place for once instead of slinging them onto the floor haphazardly. He'd resolved to be a better husband to you, as well as a more present father.

You and the children deserved nothing less which is why he'd suddenly found the courage to disobey his brother. The black star remained etched in Tommy's diary. Perhaps Isaiah would be the one to dole out punishment in future, but it would never again be him. He'd made sure of it when he gathered his share from the company safe under Polly's watchful eye.

The plot of land and country house you'd always wanted was within his grasp and the idea of a peaceful life with you somewhere quiet flooded his mind. In fact, he was so preoccupied at the thought of you tending a garden and raising chickens, he hadn't noticed the missing items from the bedrooms.

However, as he searched each room, his heart began to claw at his throat. He quickly reasoned the house was too neat and tidy for there to have been foul play so there could only be one other explanation. His stomach dropped with deep foreboding settling into his gut just as the phone in the hall began to ring.

Startled back to reality by the harsh sound, he lifted the receiver to hear you greet him in a voice that seemed far too calm and removed. "If I'm reaching you then you know I've gone," you announced, trying to steady your voice against the emotion swelling in your chest. "You have a decision to make. Think carefully," you advised.

John didn't know what to say as he realized his worst fear had come true. The deafening silence of his empty home was quickly juxtaposed with the distant echo of children's voices in the background. He could only stand dumbly, listening to them babble away happily as a lump formed in his throat.

"Y/n, we have to talk about this," John urged, swallowing harshly as he realized the decision might not truly be his to make. "I told you things will be different and they will."

"No more empty promises, my love," you cautioned him with finality.

"Wait--" John cried out, afraid you'd hang up. "It's true, I've already made changes."

You bit your lip, willing the tears not to fall in front of your children. Staying firm you replied, "I hope so. I have to go."

"Tell me where you are and I'll come..." he began frantically before the line went dead. Throwing the phone against the wall, John slumped to the floor with his head in his hands. Then a sudden realization struck him, he'd heard Karl's voice as well.

--------------

As she opened the heavy front door, Ada's expression was a mixture of shock and disbelief. She hadn't expected her brother to come, yet here he was on her doorstep looking utterly disheveled.

He hadn't failed to notice the look of disappointment in her eye, feeling like a complete failure. "Please, I know she's here. Let me see my wife," John begged.

She moved aside the second she heard the desperation in her brother's voice, knowing he'd do the right thing. "She's in there," Ada pointed down the hall.

The approaching footsteps outside the parlor attracted your attention first as they didn't sound anything like the heels worn by Ada or the maids. Your eyes flicked to the doorknob as the handle slowly turned, the door swinging open slightly to reveal your panic-stricken husband.

He didn't speak as he captured you in his arms, breathing in your scent as his rough hand stroked over your hair and cheek. "Thought I'd lost you forever," he mumbled as he buried his head in your shoulder.

You relaxed against him, understanding this was his attempt at an apology. Pulling away to search his eyes, you found them glossy with unshed tears.

"Oh, John," you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheeks with your hands. "Tell me what you've chosen."

"You, always you," he promised. Taking your hands in his, he stroked over the badly bitten nails and swollen cuticles. "Is this my doing? All the worry?" he asked with a pained look.

Your lower lip began to wobble as you admitted, "I count your heartbeats at night when you're lying next to me because I don't know if they'll be your last..." You could no longer speak, the sob in your voice drowning out any other words.

However, it was all your husband needed to hear, the affection you still held for him giving him hope. Tucking your hair behind your ear gently so he could gaze into your eyes, he made a new vow. "I'm taking you away from here for good. A life in the country...with the chickens you've always wanted," he professed. "If you'll still have me?"

John loved the way your eyes sparkled in that moment and you couldn't deny the dose of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you allowed yourself to consider his proposal. A flutter of kicks inside you made you aware you hadn't given John an answer. Releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding, you assured him, "Of course...that's all I've ever wanted."

A wide grin overtook his face at that moment, eager to tell you more about his plan for a new life and hear your ideas in return. "By the time the baby's born, we'll be settled," he told you, placing a chaste kiss to your lips.

----------------

John's promise was finally fulfilled and in the spring, you stood together on a wide expanse of land. Looking out over your kingdom, your newest addition gurgled from the safety of John's protective arms.

"I think she likes it here," he told you as his youngest daughter grasped his pinky. He hadn't left her side since the day she was born, present for every milestone.

You surveyed the children running barefoot through the garden, your warm gaze finally resting upon your husband in serene repose. As a satisfied smile graced your lips, you agreed, "We all do. Oh John, we did it!"

--------------

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy 

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@theshelbyclan

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[therealslimshakespeare]

|| Lizards

Benny x Lu full blurb

Without thinking, because she is twenty four now and has been to the beach and has swam with friends and has lived a life, Lu shucks her dress, her shoes, her slip and dives into the lake, nylon undergarments ruined and only just sufficient to be considered a covering. It’s fine, it’s normal, she comes up to the surface and she knows, somewhere far back in her mind she knows, her chest and its scar is visible but it doesn’t matter. The sun is bright, the water is reflecting so strongly she has to squint and through it all Benny is tossing his hair out of his eyes and laughing between puffs of exertion at treading water. He is laughing at having jumped in, at the fact she went for it, too. It doesn’t matter that her body is on display, as a gruesome curiosity or an incitement to desire.

She is swimming with Benny and it’s all just fine.

It makes the moment so utterly enjoyable Lu feels like all her longing to be out here, to be surrounded by this big vast world— it’s been close to right, very near what she’s needed, it’s just made a little better with him and that’s unfortunate as he lives in Chicago. Benny shouldn’t be in the city, he should be in a sparkling lake with minnows assaulting his feet and diamonds of water caught in his lashes.

They’re laughing at each other, so much so they’re close to drowning, and they don’t have to say why. It’s perfect.

She could count each of his lashes as she swims around him, so close and so circular she’s half minnow herself, Benny’s eyes don’t leave her face and he’s stopped laughing enough to look mildly wary at her antics. She’d like to count his lashes, she realizes, she never really thought of how many there were, distracted perhaps, by his beard at other times.

Back when he had a beard: she knew that about him. Back when she stuffed cardboard into her brassieres: he knew that about her.

She keeps circling him and can’t make any progress on counting his lashes because he begins to laugh again, but it’s short and aggravated and she waits for him to explain it, she knows he will.

“What’re you, half mermaid?” there’s quashed competition in his voice, he’s betrayed at her leaving off their giggle fit to actually swim.

“You sure aren’t.” she laughs back, his neck is almost fully in the water, “Those big strong shoulders can’t hold you up? Am I going to have to tow you to the rock?”

Benny takes the teasing well, his face clears if anything, quick to laugh at himself. “You’ve got an advantage, you come here a lot. I’ve been rottin’ in the city.”

Lu gives an approving nod at his conclusion, it aligns with her own. “Yes, so you’ve gotta fix that. You should come out here more often.”

He doesn’t need to come here. Here with her.

There’s all manner of woods and water and nature just outside his stupid city but that’s not an option somehow, not with the way he’s here with her when he could be in the woods with Jack or out on a boat with Maureen. He chose here, instead.

“Yeah, I should.” Benny just agrees because they don’t have to say all that, say that it feels right and different. It just is for now and they can let it be.

She watches him lay back in the water, floating along with the gentle ripple and his ears are below the water and his eyes are on the big blue sky above them and Lu thinks that’s a perfect idea so she floats back too, staring at the sky they once knew so well, wondering if he misses it like she does- in a way that’s half agony of separation and absolute terror of ever being made to reunite with it.

Bucky doesn’t get that; he’s still flying.

Ida and Gale would still be if their governments weren’t so shit to them.

Jack never wanted to but he’d done it for the country, for his people, because it was right. From how often Benny and Jack see each other, like they’re dosing each other up by sheer proximity, Lu guesses they shared that singular motivation.

She turns her head, one ear clogged and filled with water, her other cheek so far into the lake it’s almost lapping up her one nostril; but she can see Benny floating near her, he has his eyes closed.

He gets it, she thinks, heart so full she could cry from happiness for once.

“-don’t you want to fall asleep like this?” she wants to ask him, says it aloud only because she knows his ears are under the water, his face doesn’t even twitch, his eyelids are smooth without a crease of a squint or a frown around them, his nose is ever so gently upturned and Lu wants to place her hand under his head, keep him like this forever, let him enjoy it like she does, “You could, I’d keep you up, make sure you don’t drown.”

When Benny turns his face to her she blushes hot even in the freshwater lake, he looks like he’s caught her at something she shouldn’t be doing, a chiding look of kindness but it reminds her she shouldn’t be treading water and staring at his face like she loves him. If only he could see himself. He’d understand it then. Anyone would.

It’s Benny. And it’s perfect and before he pulls his head up fully he lets himself sink a little and does a slow lazy flip in the water and she feels him tickle her foot on the way back up.

It’s much the same laying on the toasty flat limestone rocks on the lakeshore. Benny and her, burning their backs on the rock, tender bellies getting scorched by late afternoon sun, underwear drying out as crispy as the grass. He’s got his eyes closed again, lashes fanned out on freckling cheeks. And Lu is watching him once more and thinking how much she’d like to be a couple of lazy lizards with Benny.

She snickers at the thought.

“What’s that?” he hums.

Lu shakes her head, disbelieving that she’s about to embarrass herself like this but at least he still has his eyes closed, “I was thinking that we’re a pair of lizards.” And that she’d like to keep being a lizard with him and have a lizard family.

Benny doesn’t laugh at her, his nose crinkles in a mildly disgusted way but he looks like he’s gotta agree despite it all, she feels so fuzzy by that. “I think my back is gonna stay on the rock when I sit up.”

The clasps of her bra are digging into her spine but, otherwise it’s burning and fabulous and she wants to stay forever. The look on his face, lazily tilted towards hers on the rock with his eyes half masted and open, agrees so eloquently Lu wants to— she doesn’t know. So she settles with reaching out and resting her hand on the browned meat of his pretty shoulder. Benny’s eyes droop further and they chide her ever so gently for the fire it ignites in them both all at once, and Lu would love to be two lizards and stay here forever.

[247-diaperboy]

All the way, Daddy’s Boy

The room was small, but quaint, with pale blue walls that reminded Max of the color of the sky in august, misted by hazy clouds. He smiled at that. The color was a little boyish. But, he hadn’t been able to repaint. Tom and Greg had been clear on that. They said that Mr. Jeremy Butler, the landlord, was very strict. Two months extra rent for repainting! And, they argued, Max was the youngest and newest – still a sophomore - so he chose last.

He had moved in last week, joining Tom and Greg, Seniors who had been there for 3 years. He had lived in Chandice Hall last year, a dorm building from the 1940s that could barely be called a dorm. Honestly, if it wasn’t torn down within the decade, it was in danger of falling down. By spring Max had decided to move off campus, and he heard that Tom and Greg were looking for a new roommate. They lived in an enviable 4 bedroom on a cul-de-sac a couple miles from campus. It was a ranch, all brick, in the post-war style. The house was low and flat, with a large yard and big, towering pines. The guys held barbeques in the summer.

Max stood up from his twin beg, stretching out his torso into a long sinuous arch, curling his toes and fingers. Just as his fingers hit their apex, his right hand rolled down brushing the top of his short cropped hair, and he rubbed his neck. He hitched his left hand in his boxers, which were loose and low. What a fucking color. He thought for the 100th time. Pale, baby blue. Oh well.

He looked morosely down at his short twin bed. Not much better. But, a twin was the only think that would fit in here, and it was a modified twin. Coated with annoying, crinkling, plastic! His dresser hadn’t fit, either, so he was using the built in wall drawers which lined one side of the room. Oddly, above these there was a seem in the wall, and a large thick wooden slat flipped down as a desk. A super long desk, Max thought again. Whatever. Greg had told him this was the office and the owner was an architect. He shrugged mentally. Max stripped, pulling on a pair of tight spandex briefs. He cupped his goods. Nice package, he thought and smiled to himself, my body is amaaazing, and he giggled at the self-flattery. He slipped on his jeans, and pulled on a faded green t-shirt. He stopped by the hall bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face on the way to the kitchen. He arrived to find Greg standing on the table. He looked up in consternation.

“What the hell is going on in here” he grumbled, with the tones of sleep still rounding the edges of his words.

Greg looked back, turning his muscled torso 90 degrees left, and flicked his head, and caught Max with his eyes. He was wearing only cut off painters shorts he had created from last year kakhis. He tilted his head, his floppy brown hair tilting to the side.

“Yeah. Light needs changing” he stated matter-of-factly. Greg was a no-nonsense guy. “Hand me that wire, would you Max”

“Sure” Max responded, picking up the wire and passing it up. “Where’s Tom?”

“Oh. He went to class about an hour ago. That history class he, um the …” Greg paused as he stuck out his tongue in concentration, wiring a connection while balancing the light. “ahhh. Got it. Um, the one he needs for his major. the one he’s always complaining about…. Italian history, I think”

“Oh yeah, yeah” Max paused, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. “Hey, Greg, you know that mattress of mine is really annoying. I mean it could wake the dead, man. And, it feels like I’m sleeping on a stiff plastic tarp – you know the camping ones? Its slick, crinkly. Super fucking annoying. I gotta change it.”

Greg stepped down from the table, having completed his task. On the ground, the height difference between Greg and Max was more obvious. Greg was 6 foot 2 inches, 190 lbs with broad shoulders. Max wasn’t tiny. He wasn’t! Max frowned at his own thought, and looked down at himself as if to re-enforce this. His Dad always said he was the tallest in their family! But at 5 foot 6 inches, and 150 lbs, he was slim and small compared to Greg. It made their 2 year age difference – 22 to 19 – seem much greater than it was. Although, he had heard rumors that Greg was older, he couldn’t confirm it.

“Max, buddy. You know we can’t get rid of Jeremy’s stuff, and we cant store it.” He glared “That was a condition of moving in. And, that’s part of the reason you’re paying so little”

Max sighed, and rolled his eyes dramatically. Whatever. He was never going to be able to find such affordable housing near campus. He grabbed his green book bag, slung it over his shoulder, and headed out, calling bye to Greg as he scampered out the door. Greg smiled faintly at the back of the closed door, and headed down to the 4th bedroom in the basement to get some supplies. The beginning of the process was always so much fun, Greg thought.

Max returned home to see his Dad in Septermber for a long weekend. The bus sucked. It was long, boring, and the guy next to him smelled like a garbage bag! Yuuuuuck. And, the bus had no bathroom, so the last 2 hours of the trip Max was certain he was going to piss himself. He sprinted off that bus and straight to the restroom. He had never been so happy to see a urinal in his life!

Weekend with Dad was great, but oddly, he didn’t sleep so well. He had started sleeping naked most nights in the last month depending on the temperature. It seemed that his room was really hot; much warmer then the rest of the house. And, somehow the fucking slick, crinkly, plastic sheet on his mattress stayed a little cooler, and so if he had his skin on it, it felt a little better. Max imagined he was quite a site: sleeping buck naked with no sheets on the plastic lined mattress. Oh well. It felt good. Anyways, at Dads the mattess just felt hot and soft. Weirdly, he had trouble sleeping on it.

On Sunday night, his Dad had noticed his fatigue, and asked. He reported dutifully about his new mattress in his rental room, and how it was odd to sleep on this one.

“You mean, plastic? Like, slick thick cold plastic encasing the mattress?” His dad asked, enthusiastically, his voice brimming with containing mocking humor.

Max answered slowly, fearing a trap “Uh, yeah. Just like that. It covered the whole thing. You cant even get it off”

His Dad threw back his head and laughed uproariously, a loud booming laugh. When the laughed turned to a chuckle he started: “That’s a mattress protector.” When Max looked over blankly he continued “Like, for a kid who wets his bed. Like pisses in it. You know, like pees in the bed…. so the piss doesn’t soak in just runs…”

Max cut him off “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thanks. I get it” he simmered. I guess for some reason Jeremy had a bed wetter mattress installed in his rental house. Fuck. And, Max couldnt get rid of it. Max groaned inwardly as his dad continued giggling. It didn’t occur to either of them to wonder if Greg or Tom know the purpose of the mattress.

The next week proceeded uneventfully. Max resigned himself to sleeping on the mattress, and strangely he enjoyed getting back to it. “I liked it before I knew its purpose, why should I change now?” Max thought.

It wasn’t until the start of October that things began getting weird. After it all went down, when Max became thoughtful, indeed, when he thought at all, he would think back to that week in particular. A cascade of events can start from such a random, little thing. Or, was it random?

In late September, Toms Grandma Jean came to visit them for a week. It was torture. Jean was 82, imperious, demanding, and set in her ways. Tom was running around the entire week. Max tried his best not to be at home at all. He would arrive late at night, drinking, studying, whatever. He would enter the house quietly and approach the fridge, quickly stealing food and drink, and taking it back to his room.

It so happened that on Monday he took a water bottle with an “JS” on top – or so he was later told. Grandma Jean apparently had trouble swallowing pills, and would melt her medications in water, and then drink the bottle.

It doesn’t matter what was in the bottle; Tom was never able to tell him that, and Jean didn’t really know. Some combination of her meds she said. Max went to sleep that night, and when he woke up next, he was naked, cold. Tom and Greg were both standing over him. He felt the air on his skin. As usual he was on his bed, naked, lying on the plastic coated mattress. He squirmed, and looked up at them. “Stop it!” Tom ordered, looking down, his blond hair spiked.

“Not again” Greg groaned simultaneously, sticking his hand under Max’s cold butt and tilting him to the side. Max barely reacted, but groaned. His hand feels so warm. Max could tell that Greg’s hand emerged glistening, wet, and a dribble ran down his forearm. He cursed loudly “Fucking piss soaked” and ran out of the room, while muffled the rest of his sentence.

Max struggled for coherence. His brain wrestled to make sense of the situation.

He hesitated and then lifted his head and looked down at his thin, tanned body. His lower abs and crotch and upper thighs were wet and shining, and there was a small puddle under his butt. He could smell it clearly. It was the shared smell of a urinal, a boy’s locker room, and a baby’s used diaper; it was stale urine. He groaned. The urine puddled under his butt, held out of the mattress by the plastic protector sheet. He lifted his hand to his chest, and unknowingly, he brought piss with it, and felt the piss run down his chest. Max was groggy. He wanted to cry. He looked up at Tom, who smoothed back his hair in a protective gesture.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” Tom declared. He began to roll Max to the side and toweled off under his butt. Max fell in and out of sleep, eventually waking up again in the morning. He could barely tell if that nights activities were a dream or not. But, from the smell of his room - still vaguely urine-tinged - he knew it was no dream. Remembering Tom and Greg seeing him piss-soaked and naked, he blushed red as he stood up and pulled on his boxers.

For several days thereafter, Max was groggy and tired. He was almost too sick to think. Greg threatened to take him to a doctor, but he just shrugged it off. The meds will pass he thought. Jean had long since left.

To his dismay, he continued to wake up in a wet bed. And, he was not pissing a little, but a lot. He would wake up with he naked butt in puddles of hot urine on the mattress. The air fresheners that Tom had strung up in his room did little to cover the scent. Greg and Tom were real sports about it. On the 5th day, when Max ran out of boxers, Tom lend him a small pair of his. On Friday, he woke up in the early morning hours, feeling again the piss around his crotch. He was laying face down on his mattress, and the piss extended up to his chest. He started sobbing. How had this happened to him? He had never pissed the bed! He sat up, and some of the urine sloshed onto the floor, which made him cry even harder.

That was how Greg found him, crying, naked, half covered in piss. Greg said nothing, but, walked slowly towards him and enfolded him in a powerful hug apparently disregarding the fact that urine was now covered Greg too.

“Shhhhh. Don’t cry Max. Shhhhh” he cooed as Max sobbed against his chest, heaving and shaking. “We’ll fix this buddy. Don’t worry” he continued in a low, calm voice, as if soothing a puppy. At some point he began to stroke the back of Max’s head, and Max’s sobs trailed off as he nestled his head against Toms warm neck. That morning, he followed Toms instructions as he was told to shower and get dressed. Maybe Tom could fix this mess, Max thought optimistically. Tom and Greg seemed like such good guys.

Weeks later, Max would have trouble recalling who first suggested the diapers. In truth, it may have been no one, or anyone. One day, he woke up in his puddle of urine, cold, shivering. And, the next day, in the afternoon, he found, at the foot of his closet, an unopened pack of adult diapers. He torn open the pack, and unfolded one. It was large (larger then he would have expected!) and thick, but soft. He needn’t have opened the pack. His underwear drawer was generously stocked with the folded diapers. The filled most of his underwear drawer, and his boxers had been stuffed in the side and in the next drawer down.

He mentioned these in passing to Tom and Greg; it was not a conversation really, but more of an acknowledgment; as if to say, I found these. The both nodded, studiously avoiding the issue. Only that night while they were all seated in the living room watching TV, did Greg say, “Remember to get one of those diapers on before bed, Max” Max looked over, but Greg had gone back to watching the show, as if the issue deserved no more comment. And, maybe it didn’t. Max had a problem, and the diapers were a simple solution. He tried to be a man about it.

That night, he put one on for the first time. He had unfolded one on the bed, fully open it took up a fair portion of the twin bed. He stripped to nothing and laid down butt first on the diaper. It took some doing, but he folded it up in place over his dick and crotch, securing the tapes. He closed his legs slowly, feeling the dense mass of stuffing that covered his butt, balls, and cock keeping his legs apart. It gave some when he brought his legs together, bunching and pushing out in the front. But, the mass was still present. He could almost feel how dry, and thirsty it was.

He stood up gingerly, feeling the diaper move with him. He moved carefully to his closet, as if the thick bundle around his crotch could break, but really, he moved slowly to lessen the creeping humiliation he felt. It is this way when a toddler first walks? He thought, the thick diaper making the act awkward and halting. Max was surprised but pleased to find a pair of baggy PJ bottoms to pull over the diaper, even if they were covered by baseballs in a too-boyish style. He hadn’t worn these in years.

When he emerged back out to sit on the couch and watch TV, the only mention of his new attire was a jest: “Max, you take the seat with the warn out cushion – you got extra padding!” Tom cracked, to Greg’s delight. The next morning, no one was surprised to find that Max had wet himself at night. Tom and Greg were up remarkably early, and Max’s door was open when he awoke. His stirring brought Tom and Greg both to the room, to stand over his bed. That would have been more unusual a couple months ago, but given his recent bed wetting, they seemed to be in his room nearly every morning. They stood shoulder to shoulder at the foot of his bed, both shirtless, as they often were; Greg had his fingers lightly on Toms waist.

Max’s PJ bottoms has slipped low in the night, and his diaper was mostly bare. Before Max could ask why Greg was touching Tom, Greg reached down and used one of his index fingers to tug them down the rest of the way, revealing the diaper totally. It was a mottled grey-yellow, indented and deformed. It looked nothing like the night before. Although none of the boys were used to seeing wet diapers, they knew that was what this way: a diaper used to capacity. Tom’s lips turned up in the corner, an almost smile.

“Looks like that diaper did its job chief” he declared. With that, Tom turned and walked out. Greg lingered, watching his diaper crotch just a little too long. Max looked at Greg awkwardly.

“Greg, do you need something?” Max asked quietly. Greg started.

“No, no” he said as he walked out of the small blue room.

At first, the used diapers went in the bathroom garbage. But, Greg soon complained about the smell. Even when Max folded them up well, they did smell. Soon, there was a garbage, really a diaper-pail, in the corner of his blue bedroom. At first, it was odd for Max to see his used diapers day after day. They were balled up tight, but yellow, used. They smelled faintly of piss, and his room did too. Nothing severe.

Max couldn’t tell if it was better or worse when he found a nursery-sent nightlight in his room after returning from class. Tom had good fun with him about it, but defended it by saying that Amazon had only small repository of get-rid-of-diaper-smell items, and they all were babyish. Indeed, Tom said he had tried to google “get rid of diaper smell” and “adult” in the same sentence, and got nothing. Oh well.

By that Christmas break that year, Max was wearing diapers every night regularly, and without thought. A couple times he stopped to wonder if the meds that he had involuntarily taken from Jean would wear off, or why they hadn’t. But, he didn’t dwell on this too much. Whenever he got the thought in his mind, it would slip away, fleeting.

The last order of diapers had been 2 cases – 100 in total. He had blanched slightly when they arrived, but they were cheaper this way, and Greg had helped him split the cost. Those diapers, when unpacked, had filled a couple drawers and lined several shelves extra.

Max decided to stay in town for Christmas while Greg and Tom when home. He hadn’t wanted to confront his Dad with his night-time-diapers. It seemed simpler this way. Those were the first days he started wearing diapers during the day. It started simply. One lazy morning he decided to eat before changing out of his diaper. Being familiar with the capcity of these diapers, he could tell now that this wet diaper could handle more. And, he had recently wet. It was warm, almost cozy. He squirted a little more piss into his diaper during breakfast. He thought about his diapers more recently. While at the kitchen table eating his oatmeal, he rubbing himself through the front of his diaper, feeling the soggy warm heavy diaper rub against his hard dick. Damn, he thought. That felt goooood. Pretty quickly, while eating, he cam into the front of his diaper. He rocked his crotch forward, clamping down on the spoon in his mouth. He felt the hot cum squirt out in his wet diaper. When he was done he panted slightly, and began to get up. He stopped, and laughed. There was no reason to get up. No cleanup. Oh shit; that was certainly a benefit to wearing diapers. He thought, remembering normal clean-up when he used to jack off. He careless rubbed his post-climax dick again through the diaper, shuddering.

That morning, at almost noon, he changed out of his wet diaper and into a dry one. He defended it to himself. He was going to be home all day. It was like wearing at night. And, there were so many diapers in his room, who would notice a missing one.

By the time Tom and Greg both returned from winter break, Max had been wearing diapers non-stop for almost 2 weeks. He would push them down to shit still, but wouldn’t really even clean himself up as much as he used to. It was a diaper, right? He’d think as he pulled the wet diaper from around his ankles after he shit. The guys got home at night, and it was not unexpected that Max was wearing, although he greeted them in just his diaper and short socks, which made them both grin broadly.

But, Max had not counted on how many diapers he had gone through. The next morning, Greg noted that almost 60 diapers had been used since before they left.

“Max, that’s like 4 per day, buddy” Greg said sternly for the 4th or 5th time. Max looked down. He had used every excuse he could think of, and the only thing left to him was the truth.

“Well, I’ve been wearing the diapers during the day. All day.” Max intoned, very slowly, pronouncing every word as if they were fragile strange things. Greg looked at him, sitting on the side of the bed – the sheet crinkling with his movements – his diaper wet, bulging at his crotch. It did not occur to Max to be embarrassed at his used diaper.

And, surprisingly, Greg smiled. He ruffled his hand through Max’s hair. “Look. Diapers are cheap. We can get more. Use as many as you want. If you want to wear all the time, Tom and I will totally support that” Greg said. As if on cue, Tom peaked his head it, and yelped “We sure will!” and then continued down the hall.

Max realized two things that day. He did feel more comfortable wearing diapers during he day. But, his clothes did not fit well over them. He had spent the holiday break at home, and now he was confronted with the prospect of going to class in diapers. He went through jeans, khakis, shorts. In all of them, the diaper was woefully obvious at least to his nervous eyes. He examined himself in the mirror again, his j-crew Khakis over his diaper… the diaper contour stretching the confines of his crotch and butt, and worse still, it rustled loudly, and peaked up above the too-low waist band.

Max eventually settled on sweat pants, through which the diaper was somewhat concealed in the folds of extra cloth. To his surprise, when he arrived in the kitchen that morning, Tom had packed him a lunch for class in a paper bag. He stuffed it into his bookbag and grinned as Tom slapped him on his diapered ass. He barely registered that Gregs hand came up and cradled Toms neck as he was walking out the door.

Those weeks, in the early winter were both easy and careless. Max was often seen around campus in his navy blue sweat pants, paired with all manner of t-shirts or Henley’s and an accompanying jacket. Some students who sat beside him swore he smelled odd, musky, stale. Others noticed nothing. Similarly, some talked about his growing crotch or enlarging butt. There were rumors, but they only skirted the truth. The rumors rarely reached Max’s ears. When Greg or Tom heard about them, they fed the rumors slightly, obliquely. The word diaper was only mentioned in passing, hushed whispers.

For himself, Max slept soundly at night and romped during the day. He was surprisingly happy. His thoughts had become strangely simplified. Sometimes he almost thought that his thought-process had become more child-like. He had altered his routine somewhat to accommodate the diapers, but that was greatly outweighed by the added security and comfort he got from them. This joy was not lost on Greg and Tom.

It was early in March when Max noticed that his closet was strangely empty. It was true that he was wearing only a small selection of clothes, but still, he was momentarily taken aback by the empty shelves and naked hangers. He was back early. He has stripped out of his sweats to get them a much needed wash, and was in a white printed t and his diaper, which was slightly used, and hung a little low on his waist. Greg returned from class first to find Max in the living room watching TV and having a beer.

“Hey Greg” Max voiced “What’s with my closet?”

Greg barely noticed Max as he was unpacking his book bag. “Tom and I took the clothes to good will this morning. You cant wear most of them anymore. The better pieces Tom took to consignment to get some extra money to buy you new shit.” He reported matter-of-factly as if stating a fact that did not concern Max.

“Oh” Max paused, taking in this news. “Well, I guess I could use some new clothes” he looked up at the TV as if nothing had happened, and took another sip of his beer. If Tom was going to get him a new wardrobe, great. Nice to have some more pants, he thought philosophically while looking down at his bare legs and exposed diaper. Prior to dinner, when Tom and Greg were in the kitchen, Max was sitting at the table chatting with them. He stood up slowly, and began to walk to the bathroom. Something in the way he walked, slightly bow legged, set Tom off. He walked so much like a toddler.

“He buddy” Tom called conspiratorially “Where you going?”

Max looked back. Strange. The hadn’t been this interested in his comings and goings before. He rubbed his flat stomach absent mindedly, and ran a hand along the waist band of his diaper. His stomach groaned, and he felt the familiar pressure building. “I’m heading to the bathroom Tom” he reported, turning to walk. “Stop!” Tom ordered, brokering no argument. “Greg and I have been talking. We think we’re spending almost $300 per month on your diapers. And, we think you should use them fully. Its just not fair” he reasoned “its like you’re throwing away half our money”

Max stopped, puzzled. Weird argument. He dismissed them and turned to head to the bathroom. He didn’t expect Greg to tackle him, pushing him onto the plush carpet, wrestling him to the ground playfully. They tousled for a couple minutes, laughing at the unexpected physicality of it.

Max was abruptly brought to the present when he felt the pressure in his stomach surge. He had a critical need to shit. He yelped this to Greg in a semi-strangled voice. Greg remained straddles across him, holding his arms to the floor. “Let me up Greg, I really, really gotta go” Max whined again, high pitched, which squirming. Greg paused, looking down. He mercilessly pressed a fist slowly into Maxes flat stomach. Max groaned audibly. Greg jumped off him as Max flipped over to his stomach and got himself up on his knees. His lips drew back from his teeth in nether a smile nor a grimace. Very slowly, he levered his butt out and up, his head down but his face out. Greg was kneeling beside him, and slipped a hand under the back of his t-shirt, rubbing his back from neck down to diaper butt.

He locked eyes with Max and spoke carefully. “Don’t hold back Max. It’s OK. Do it.” In that moment, Max didn’t push – no – he simply let go the effort of holding back. And, with that, his bowels rumbled out into his waiting diaper. They filled his diapered seat. This was so much more then wetting. He thought as he felt the hot slimy mess fill his diaper and felt it continue coming out of him. Some part of him was conscious that he wet at the same time. As he continued soiling himself, he broke eye contact with Greg and closed his eyes. His diaper butt felt heavy, and sagged low between his legs.

He eventually laid down on the floor, somehow exhausted. He was all too conscious of the full diaper he wore. Full in every sense. He felt it – warm, wet, and heavy. He smelled it. When he moved it shifted. His cheeks blushed bright red as he thought about what he had done, what he was wearing. He looked up at Tom and Greg who now stood over him… his voice was almost tearful, “I shit in my diaper” he whispered, voice quavering.

That was when he discovered another use for the large levered desk in his room. Greg took him there, walking him gingerly. Tom and Greg had made clear he could not change himself out of this diaper. The “desk” flopped down out of the wall, and Max was stunned to see Tom quickly unfold a cushioned printing plastic mat. Even in his shocked state, standing in his full diaper, he looked at the board, covered in the white plastic mat printed with baseballs, mitts, and bats,

His eyes widened as he looked at Greg, “This is, uh, this is a baby changing table” He said. The sheltered cubbies in the wall were filled with diaper changing supplies; baby oil, and baby powder. Pampers wipes.

Greg paternalistically rubbed Max on the head. “No, buddy, its not a baby changing table. Its a changing table for adults who wear diapers” He reported. With that, he put his strong hands at Max’s waist and hoisted him onto the table, plopping him down on his butt. Max started. The force of him landing pushed his shit all over his backside, making him newly aware of his diaper. Strangely, his cock became hard.

Tom appeared, and pulled off his shirt, and pushed him flat onto his back. In the hours after, Max tried to forget the humiliation of that 15 minutes. He laid on that table with his butt in the air, and the smell of his shit, while Greg cleaned his butt and Tom rubbed his chest and soothed him. He cried softly through much of the change, but his dick remained hard. Greg teased him as he put him back into a dry diaper, this time liberally applying baby oil. When he stood up, he noticed that the baby oil and powder lent him a much more infantile smell.

It was no less then 2 months later that the first diaper-messing seemed a distant, foreign memory to Max. He tried to remember how and why it had felt so strange; this was the most natural of impulses. Letting go. He did it easily now. It just came out into his diaper. Wetting or messing. It was a diaper. It was to be used. He has wet and messed himself at breakfast yesterday, and told Tom this thought. Tom had praised him.

“Yeah, of course, Max. For you, using you diaper is and should be the most natural thing in the world. Its the same way for all little boys” Max lifted up his chin and grinned at Toms praise. It meant a lot to him, to have Tom or Greg praise him. He would glow for hours afterwards.

True to his word, Tom had stocked his closet with clothes that were much better suited to his attire. His jeans now were double stiched with a wide crotch and elastic waist. He had a couple pairs of overalls. Greg had even bought him a onsie recently, saying it was like an undershirt, but better for hiding his diaper. He cringed a little at that recent memory. It seemed more than a little infantile when Greg had snapped that onsie over his diaper. But, he did enjoy the way it had pushed up the diaper against his cock. He became hard just thinking about it. And, the diaper didn’t peak over his pants when he wore them. Practical, Max thought.

Around the house, Max had noticed small changes. Nothing he could put his finger on. He complained to Tom once, and even to his own ears, it sounding like the whining of a spoiled child. The chairs in the kitchen were being changed out, and while Tom and Greg used the two remaining wooden ones, Max was stuck with a smaller plastic one that had a seat belt in it. Of course, the guys never used the belt on him. But, the chair was small, blue and red, with high arms. And, it took him a couple days, but he noticed that he was always drinking out of plastic cups now with lids and straws.

When he mentioned it, Tom laughed “Its nothing. We’re just short on glass cups.” He almost complained when Greg wiped his mouth after dinner, but held himself back. Greg was so gentle with it, so caring, cupping the back of his head and gently wiping the wet wipe over his mouth. And, it felt nice to be touched like that by Greg.

Also, he couldn’t tell if it was just him, but Max noticed that Tom and Greg were increasingly touching or holding each other. Simple hugging, or having arms around each other. The other night, on the couch, Max was in his new onsie and diaper, and sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, and he looked up to see Tom lying with Gregs legs straddling him. When Max looked at them, they smiled and Tom winked. He shrugged, and went back to watching TV.

Max’s last day of class was in the first week of June. He was in his overalls, which he liked wearing now. They were blue-jean color, and cut slightly large. He wore a red onsie underneath them. Tom came with him to class sometimes now, and was with him today. He sat beside Tom in the back row. He set his backpack down by his feet. His sneakers were big, white hightops. He was quite wet, and knew it now that he felt his diaper, although he barely remembered wetting. He whispered this to Tom, who shrugged. He knew that the bathroom in the Carmichael building was a pissing trough with no privacy, and a couple small stalls. There was no place to change a diaper. Max silently cursed when he felt the need to mess half way through lecture. He tugged on Toms sleeve.

It was no use. While the professor talked about early agrarian economies, Max succumbed and soiled his diaper badly, feeling the hot mess and squirting piss assail his diaper simultaneously. Soon, the dirty diaper smell became obvious.

“Did you mess?” Tom queried, grimacing “Phewy, that stinks. Lift up, stinky butt, let me see. It smells like you leaked.” Max lifted his butt slightly for Tom, who saw the damp crescents across the back his butt. “Damn it! I knew we should have switched to those other diapers. Greg was right” Max dropped his head onto the desk, as nearby students started turning. In the preceding months, the rumors of a diaper-wearing student had solidified, and were now commonly known.

“Max, did you fucking mess you diaper again, baby?” a loud mouthed frat guy hooted from 2 rows in front. “I can smell that shit from here. Daddy’s gonna have to get you changed” he laughed, as a chorus of other students joined in giggling nervously and looking at Max. Kyle a sophomore seated beside Tom, was less forgiving.

“Damn it. It smells like a diaper-baby-fucking-nursery here. If you’re still wetting and shitting your diapers like a baby maybe you should be in nursery school and not a college seminar, and let us adults concentrate?” Kyle lectured.

To the sound of laughs, Max walked out of the lecture hall, his wet and messy diaper obvious as Tom walked beside him.

After that episode in lecture, the changes came quickly for Max throughout that spring and summer.

He was already diapered all the time, and, after his original diapers leaked occasionally, Greg had switched him to thicker diapers. He had seen the ordering site; these were diapers only worn by completely incontinent men. They were loud, thick, and impossible to hide. In order to compensate, his wardrobe had changed radically. The onsies had multiplied. They were perfect for fitting over the thick diapers. They held them up, and in place. And, Greg liked to say, they prevented Max from tampering with his own diapers. As if Max was going to. He was perfectly content with Greg and Tom handling that.

The story of his soiling his diaper in class had become common knowledge. Their school was not large, and now it seemed that every student knew that Max wore diapers. This was a blessing and a curse. After initial mocking and taunting, students seems to let him be. It was for the best, since his diapers were not easily concealable under his clothes. He was mostly in overalls now when he went out. On some of the overalls, there were leg snaps so that Tom or Greg could get to his diaper easier. With the leg snaps and the onsie, he was surprised to realized they could change his diapers without undressing him.

In addition to his onsies, he had sleepers for overnight – long tight playful printed things which exaggerated the contour of his diaper butt and his thin toned limbs. For the day, he had slowly built up a collection of toddlerish clothes: rompers for in the house – loose garments in which he could play. Greg had also bought him some shortalls, which were mostly for inside, but he had endured an embarrassing trip to the park in them once, where, blessedly, he had not been seen. But, often, he was in just a diaper or a t-shirt and diaper.

The other changes were incremental. The desk-changing table came down permanently, with a baby-boy printed covering, and became a changing table in truth.

He first had a towel around his neck, then, when the towel grew dirty with his food, he was given a bib. His plastic chair with a belt became a larger chair with a tray, and then a lockable high chair. His plastic-covered cup became a sippy cup.

It was this way that Max found himself near the end of the summer. He had been home from classes for 2 months, and his life had become, in reality, that of a kid. Maybe even that of a toddler he thought. He still had say over his actions. But, he was, in some ways confined by his diaper and clothing. And, in truth, he needed the diapers now, and had come to enjoy them.

It was a morning in late summer when Max stumbled from his bed – still plastic sheet covered, but now with short railings. He was clad in a tight white onsie which had small barely visible soccer ball prints. This onsie covered his engorged diaper. He waddled more then walked into the hallway. Sounds down the hall caught his attention and he wandered to them, opening the door to Greg’s room. He paused at the door. Greg and Tom were both naked, kneeling, Greg straddling Tom from the back. Toms dick was hard. Greg was behind him. They both looked up at Max. Their skin was glistened with sweat.

“Hi boy” Greg voiced, throaty, husky. “You come to play with your daddies?” he asked. Max looked over, and felt his cock hard in his diaper. Greg looked at Max “You know that inflatable stuffed horse we got you? Go get it, come back” Max scampered through the house, returning moments later. “Mount it at the foot of the bed” Greg ordered, while Tom moaned.

Max sat down at the foot of the bed and straddled his horse. His wet diaper, bound by his onsie, pushed up mightily against his cock.

“Now ride it until you cum” Greg ordered, and he continued taking Tom from behind. Max moved his hips back and forth, while looking at Tom and Greg, and feeling his cock trapped, hard, in the wet diaper. He was about to cum when Tom reached forward and slipped something into his mouth. It was long and plastic, and Max felt the guard around his mouth. It was a large pacifier. He sucked and sucked and watched the men above him gyrating as his dick exploded into his waiting diaper. He continued humping and moaning as he fell forward.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia. 13 - I'll Make This Quick

Dahlia makes it to Threshing. But even with a dragon already laying some claim to her, she's going to have her work cut out for her.

Set Pre Fourth Wing/Books

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

TW: Character death.

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist

Threshing. The most important day of my time here. The one day where I would prove I was worthy of being a rider.

”No Dragon will ever bond you after what you’ve done.”

I shake my head to get his words out of my head. Words he’d uttered to me days after it had happened when I’d tried to speak to him. Tried to seek comfort from my own father. Only he wasn’t my father anymore. And I wasn’t his daughter. I was a disgrace. And now I would prove him wrong.

”Remember everything I’ve taught since you got here. But when it comes down to it, listen here,” Professor Kaori tells us as he taps his chest, something I can tell he’s done many times before. “If a dragon has already selected you as their rider, they will be calling to you.”

As if responding to my words, I feel a small tug pulling in my chest. Urging me forward towards the forest where we will look for our dragons. And I have no doubt that means a dragon has selected me as my own. I can’t help but think of the blue that had landed behind me in the clearing and burnt Eddie to a crisp. A dragon whose eye’s had plagued my dreams the last two nights.

”Make sure you pay attention to your surroundings, but also your feelings and go with them. And if those feelings tell you to go in the opposite direction…. Just listen to it.”

”Don’t have to tell me twice.” Bodhi mutters from next to me.

”Agreed. You feel anything yet?” I ask as I scan the first years standing around us, all looking extremely nervous.

”I think so. It’s faint, but I’m pretty sure it’s the feeling he’s talking about.” He says before turning to look at me. “I’d ask you, but I have a feeling you are after the other day.”

We’d barely talked since presentation day. Mostly keeping to myself after I’d bolted from the clearing. News had spread fast of what had happened in the clearing. Of the dragon that had flown in and defended me as soon as Eddie had laid his hands on me. And to top it off, Kaori had told us no blue’s were willing to bond this year. Since then I had felt everyone’s eyes on me, their whispers following me down the halls. I was the talk of the Quadrant again. And something told me word would have definitely gotten back to my father. My father who would be waiting in the flight field to see if I’d bonded a dragon. As if sensing my thoughts, a familiar pair of brown eyes turn and meet mine. Dain had tried to find me yesterday, but I’d managed to avoid him as well. But I couldn’t avoid him forever, and I knew he would have some choice words if he realised who that dragon was.

I turn and nod to Bodhi. “Yeah, I feel it. As if I’m connected to one by an invisible thread its tugging on.”

”Lucky, I can’t feel a thing.” Liz says nervously as she fiddles with her fingers.

”You will. Don’t worry.” I tell her as she smiles up at me.

In the distance, the faint sounds of the clock tower signalling the time can be heard in the distance, followed by a chorus of roars and beating wings. Above us dragons soar into view, all heading for the forest we stand in front of. All of us staring up at the sky in awe as they fly in. For many, this is the first time they’ve seen this many dragons flying in a formation. And even though it’s a sight I’ve seen many times in my life, I can’t help but marvel at the sight. Austin nudges my arm, her hand raised and pointing to my left. Soon the other cadets are pointing and looking at it. Only my squad had seen the blue dragon that day. And now that it was here, flying into the forest, everyone knew what had happened was true. Even Kaori is staring up at it in shock. The tug in my chest feels stronger now, as if pulling me upwards. There was no denying which dragon I needed to find today.

”Well, here goes nothing.” Bodhi mutters as the dragons descend into the forest.

Hours have passed, the sun above my head indicating it was around midday. The tug in my chest pulling me further and further into the forest. One thing was for certain, this dragon was making me work for it. Despite being one of the only ones to have that feeling in my chest before today started, I was not the first to bond a dragon. I’d seen countless dragons take off into the air with a cadet, now a rider, on their back.

So far I had seen a few brown dragons, a green I nearly didn’t see due to its colouring and a few reds. I nearly thought I was gone when I’d crossed one of them. The red swordtail had walked over to me, its hot breath fanning over me as it had inspected me. But after a minute it had lost interest in me and moved on.

After another hour or so I’m still dragon less. But the pull in my chest was far stronger than it had been before. My chest feeling tight and restricted with every step I take. I had to be close. A loud snap echoes through the trees from my right, and I whirl to see another cadet move into the clearing. My heart drops as I take in who it is. It’s one of Eddie’s friends. I didn’t know his name, but I had heard the lie he had tried to spin around what had happened on Presentation Day. About how I had pushed Eddie into the path of the dragon fire, how the dragon had been aiming for me.

”Was hoping I’d run into you,” He drawls as he removes the sword from his back.

I stretch my arms out wide, “Well here I am.” I watch as he snarls at me, sensing the mocking tone in my voice.

”Yes, here you are. But you’re not what I’m looking for,” He drawls as he stalks towards me.

The dragon. He wants the dragon that had landed in the clearing on Presentation Day. Something told me a lot of cadets did. He was definitely the biggest dragon willing to bond in our year. And something told me he would be one of the biggest in the Quadrant to.

”Though in a way you are, because you will lead me to that dragon, and then your death will get me that dragon.”

I can’t help but laugh at his words as we start to circle each other, reaching behind me to pull the sword I’d strapped to my back this morning. I’d decided against the staff I had frequented during my time here so far, despite it giving me my first patch and the first weapons patch of my year. Today I had opted for some far sharper weapons, knowing all of us were out for blood today.

”You seem to have forgotten what happened to the last person that laid a hand on me around that dragon, might want to rethink your idea,” I throw back at him.

He face contorts with anger, his grip tightening on his sword as he picks up his pace. “Oh trust me, I haven’t forgotten Aetos. But I’ll make this quick, I promise.”

He lunges forward, thrusting his sword towards me in a sloppy attempt to run me through. I easily deflect his blow with my own sword, the metal ringing in the silence that follows. He clearly had experience with a sword, but it was clear he relied on his brute strength to wield it. Clearly not having the patience to perfect his form or footwork. I wouldn’t be surprised if he came from a family of infantry, most of them rushing into their training without taking the care to learn the basics properly. Which would be his downfall.

I’d spent nearly my entire life training, learning the basics before moving to the more technical skills. I knew how to read my opponents, knew how to predict how they would move. Which is how I know he was going to lash out at me. As if on queue he yells, swinging his sword wildly at me in hopes it would meet his mark. But I deflect every single blow. We dance around each other, well I do, he just flails around me in an effort to keep up with me as I back us towards the edge of the clearing. I watch as the panic sets in as he realises he clearly under estimated my abilities. Another reason I’d mostly kept to the staff during challenges.

Most people under estimated those who could wield a staff as it didn’t take a lot of strength to wield it. And right now it was paying off. Little did he know, but I had been trained in nearly every weapon available to us. Was I good at all of them? Hell no. But I knew enough to wield most of them confidently, or at least know how to handle myself against them. Just like Tavis, I was about to prove him wrong.

He realises he needs to do something drastic if he stands a chance of walking out of here alive or unscathed. He lunges forward, manging to make me stumble back as he flicks his sword around, the pommel hitting me perfectly in the nose, the crack reverberating through my skull as blood gushes down my face. I quickly pivot away knowing he will try to use my disorientation to his advantage. I feel the rush of wind as his sword swings where I had been moments earlier. I open my eyes to see him lose his footing, stumbling to the side as he tries to right himself.

I quickly rush forward, holding the hilt of my sword close to my side as I wait for the right moment. Which comes moments later as he turns back to me as he rights him self. My hand finding purpose on his shoulder as I step forward and look up at him. His eyes go wide, his mouth dropping open as I meet my mark. I feel the warm liquid trickle onto my hand as he gasps for air in front of me, his hands rushing to apply pressure to the wound as I slowly push him away from me. He stumbles back, falling to his knees, blood already pooling in his mouth from where I’ve pierced his lung as he stares up at me.

The sound of beating wings fills the clearing, before the ground rumbles beneath us as it lands. I don’t have to turn to know what’s behind me. The feeling in my chest wanting to tug me backwards as the ground rumbles with every step he takes. I watch as his eyes go wide, catching the faintest glimmer of blue in them as the sun breaks through the clouds. I feel the new presence make its way into my mind like I’m greeting an old friend. Like they were always meant to be there. As if they were completing me. Which they we’re. I’d never felt more complete in my life as I did right now.

”I’ll make this quick. I promise,” I utter as I sheathe the sword back onto my back.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, hot air rushes over my head, the familiar glint of orange flickering in his eyes before he’s engulfed in flames.

”Quick enough for you little flower?”

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness

[luna0713hunter]

"you'll have to teach me " with zoro please and with

neck kisses / kitchen counter kisses

Kisses to keep your lover quiet but zoro kisses the reader

Lazy make-up

Thank btw I love your work

Author's note : its currently 3:30 am that im writing this request and gosh so many cute kisses with Zoro! And thank you for your nice compliments!!i hope you enjoy it 💕

"you'll have to teach me"

"neck kisses"

"kitchen counter kisses"

"kisses to keep your lover quiet"

"lazy makeout"

Based on this prompt

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Warnings : none,lots of fluff and kisses,cute couple

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

Getting some privacy in a ship is nearly impossible.

You cant really blame anyone;its a public space that all the crewmates share,and no one has the actual time to relax and spend time in their lover's company.

But there are also mornings like this: where everything's soft in the glow of the rising sun;the ocean calm and the sky so blue with few clouds, it has you closing your eyes and wishing for that moment to last forever.

As you lean back on the kitchen counter after you've made yourself a cup of tea,you enjoy the rare moments of loneliness. You close your eyes and take a sip of the sweet honey flavor liquid and let the rays of the sunlight warm your face.

When you hear the sound of someone stepping inside the kitchen,you open your eyes;ready to greet Sanji, assuming he's going to make breakfast since he's always the first one to wake up. But what greets you is the sight of a very drowsy Zoro making his way toward you. You pour him a cup of tea as well and offer it to him;and eye him as he accepts it with a grunt. You grin and bump your shoulder to his,making him grunt again.

"not awake yet,sleepy head?"

"not my fault. Usopp snores. And Luffy talks about food in his sleep."

You snort around your own cup of tea, "what about Sanji?"

Zoro takes a moment to consider your question,a when he speaks next,he seems genuinely surprised by his answer.

"he... actually isnt so bothersome when he sleeps. Which is weird, considering how annoying he is when he's awake."

You throw your head back and laugh;the sound so refreshing in the silence of the morning. Zoro takes a sip of his tea,and leans on his forearms next to where you're currently sitting on the counter.

"why are you up so early?"

You shrug and tilt your head toward the window.

"the weather was too nice to sleep in."

"is that so?"

You close your eyes when the skies clears again and the rays of the sunshine warm your face.

"yeah."

You two bask in each others' presence;no need for any words,just enjoying the silence. The tea finishes soon,and with warm belly,you eyelids start to droop again.

"sleepy?"

When you open your eyes,you see Zoro's face inches away from yours;having you caged between his arms. You lean forward and rest your forehead against his, smiling when he lowers his head and presses his lips to your neck. You shiver,and wrap your arms around Zoro's neck.

"you know,i always dreamed of kissing my boyfriend on a kitchen counter."

An amused chuckle escapes his lips,and he tilts his head to one side while eyeing your lips; pretending to be confused.

"oh?then I'm afraid you'll have to teach me how to do it."

You giggle and pull him closer

"that,can be arranged."

When your lips meet,the morning feels even better. Zoro's lips are soft and move slowly against your own. Its everything you've ever wanted,and even more.

Because of mornings like this,you try to wake up earlier than usual every now and then;so you can have a small alone time with the man you love before everyone else wake up.

When a small sound escapes your lips as he bites your lower lip lightly,Zoro pulls back slightly and rests his forehead against yours.

"you have to keep it down,babe. Don't want other to wake up now,do we?"

And one shake of your head is enough answer for him to dive back in,and capture your lips again.

And you pray to every god you know,that mornings like this last forever.

[aquaquadrant]

grbbrgrr. scurries toward you. I offer thee pathbubs fluff, fresh from my mind fortress.

Patho. falling asleep with dbubs’s clock to his ear.

gives you a cupcake skitters away

(offering received, considered, and accepted. however, i have substituted your fluff for angst. i hope this is satisfactory.)

~*~

"watch this!" dbubs shouts, before leaping off the cliff into the water below.

<player>dat -7063fdce-39ac-4a12-d836-a990c45b2bb0

patho leans back just enough to avoid being splashed. the water in this jungle lagoon is clear and blue, brighter than most bodies of water he comes across. tall, thick trees surround them on all sides, creating a natural barrier from the mobs of the jungle. it’s a beautiful place, and one of his favorites to visit when he’s here.

155 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 17/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 28 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -12,683.952 / 39.11563 / 253,589.263 block: -12,683 39 253,589 chunk: -791 15 7,849 facing: south (towards positive z)(1.5/5) client light: 6 (0 sky, 6 block) biome: error:crimson jungle local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 16/247 + 0/8

dbubs surfaces with a gasp, his wet bangs plastered to his forehead. “did you see that?” he crows. “that was- i must’ve done a- a complete 360 spin about five- no, ten times! world record, first try!”

“oh, yeah,” patho agrees with a smile he doesn’t feel. “yeah, that was very impressive.”

they’re almost out of time.

patho has known this since he woke to find a little weeping vine attempting to burrow into his arm, right at the seam where flesh meets metal. this is an event that only happens when he’s overstayed his welcome, and the jungle can no longer tolerate his presence without trying to claim him. that vine was easily removed, putting off the inevitable for a few more days. but he can’t ignore the sudden restlessness that overtakes him now, a buzzing in his very core that fills his mind with static and his limbs- organic and mechanical alike- with the powerful urge to move.

it’s hard to explain, his need to wander. it’s like every moment he’s not traveling, he can almost feel the infinite borders of hels expanding, spreading into new horizons, and the thought of staying put is unbearable. it doesn’t matter if he actually goes beyond the loaded chunks or not- a feat that’d take years, to be sure. just getting on the move again is enough to quiet the itch.

(it didn’t use to be this way. it didn’t start until after he built his communicator into his new arm, fusing himself with it- but he’ll never admit this, never confront the possibility that it might’ve been a mistake. it’s easier just to leave.)

besides, he still enjoys the various business he gets up to with the other denizens of hels. his services as a redstoner and a data analyst are in high demand, and he has a reputation to uphold. he can’t throw all that away to stay here. that just wouldn’t make sense. it wouldn’t be logical.

patho reaches for the clock at his hip. it was the first gift dbubs gave him. early into patho’s first stay, dbubs decided he needed a clock of his own, so he’d always know when it was time for them to sleep. based on its position, nightfall is only a couple hours away.

“well, c’mon!” dbubs pesters him, his haughty voice echoing off the smooth walls of the cliffside. “what’re you- what, are ya scared of a lil water? huh? just- you just try and beat my record, you- i bet you can’t!”

“alright, alright,” patho chuckles, shrugging his jacket off. “you asked for it…”

won’t be long, now.

~*~

that night, patho leaves his eye on.

dbubs, curled beside him, notices this immediately, and deep down, he knows what it means. it took a while- how long, he isn’t sure- for patho to grow comfortable enough to turn his cybernetic eye off while they slept. but ever since then, he does it every night… up until the last night. every last night, like clockwork.

already, dbubs can feel the familiar weight of sleep trying to take him. caught in the jungle’s day-night cycle, he has little choice in the matter; he sleeps every night without fail. but he fights it anyway, biting back a yawn.

“tomorrow,” dbubs starts quietly, “uh, do you wanna- i- i had this idea for a new build, a perfect build, of course, and i’m gonna need a- a super smelter, for- uh, for all the terracotta-“

“dbubs.” that solitary red eye gazes out from the dark. “you know i’m not made for staying.”

dbubs shies away from the words like an insect from sudden light. “and- and so i was thinking,” he continues, as if patho hadn’t spoken, “we could do a uh, you know, maybe a bamboo farm? for the- for the fuel? i- my perfect redstone prowess could make this easy- easily, of course, but um… i uh- euugh, you- you know they always say, sure enough, that two brains- uh, two geniuses, genii, are better’n one.”

“yeah?” patho breathes a soft, empty laugh. “is that what they say?”

“and- well, yes! yes, of course!” darkness creeps in from the edges of dbubs’s vision; he clings tighter to patho. “and… and uh… n’you can learn all ‘bout my new… new dbubs redstone clock… pat- patented design, a‘course…”

“of course.” patho’s lips brush across his forehead. “better get some rest, then.”

dbubs struggles to keep his eyes open, but it’s as if his lashes are lined with iron. he presses his face in the crook of patho’s neck, breathing him in, that redstone-and-gunpowder scent; bitter and metallic.

“don’t,” he murmurs, consciousness escaping him quickly. “please…?”

“night, dbubs.”

the jungle sleeps.

~*~

far from the jungle, patho lays down in a shallow cave carved from netherrack.

168 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 15/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 27 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -11, 987.629 / 30.91778 / 252,896.204 block: -11,987 30 252,896 chunk: -780 15 7,835 facing: east (towards positive x)(1.5/5) client light: 2 (0 sky, 2 block) biome: error:nether waste local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 5/247 + 0/8

he’s put enough distance between himself and the jungle that he’s confident he can sleep for a few hours before setting off again. the surrounding biome is one he’s well familiar with; barren and empty. with a wall put up to shelter him from mobs, he’s finally safe enough to turn his eye off.

that won’t be the case anymore, once he gets closer to the more populated chunks. the risk of being caught with one eye nonfunctional is too high. it’s just something he has to deal with.

(of course, he could’ve built a cybernetic replacement that simply functioned like the eye he lost, but he thought himself clever and built in a data processor to provide him with valuable information, giving him an advantage over anyone else in his field. so this is the price he pays for it.)

he reaches for his clock. there’s only a couple hours left before the sun will rise, unseen beyond the bedrock ceiling, and dbubs will wake to an empty bed.

but for now, patho tucks the clock to his ear and closes his eyes, letting the steadfast ticking finally lull him to sleep.

~*~

[starrystevie]

"it's a vhs night, huh?" eddie asks as he comes out of the kitchen, two mugs of decaf coffee in one hand, a box of oreos in the other. steve's on his knees in front of the tv with tapes scattered around him, a mixture of home movies and mashed up concert recordings and episodes of star trek that are bound to get recorded over eventually. he turns around as his husband enters the living room and opens his mouth for a cookie that eddie happily feeds him.

"yeah, why not?" he gives eddie a half smile that makes the crows feet around his eyes crinkle even more. "just feeling nostalgic, i guess."

eddie hums and sits on his end of the couch before pulling one foot up to cross over his knee. he takes a sip of the bitter black coffee and dunks an oreo in to soften it up then pops it into his mouth. steve finally settles on a video and rewinds it to the start, curling up on his side of the cushions with his feet tucked under eddie's thigh. a hand finds its way around his ankle and a thumb strokes at the soft skin it can find. gentle, comforting, home.

the grainy picture on the screen straightens out and the sound clicks on along with it. the greens of the grass are a little faded and the blue of the sky is dull but it's still clear enough to make out steve on the swings at the park down the road from loch nora. steve's mom is behind the camera yelling for him to pump your legs, good job stevie, there you go, wow you're going so high and the grin on the boy's face is a wide as the sky above him.

"you were so cute, what happened?" eddie murmurs with a chuckle causing steve to slap at the thigh currently warming his feet.

"i'm still cute, thank you very much." steve grumbles out his response which makes eddie chuckle again, leaning over with a groan to smash a kiss to his cheek.

there's little voices echoing in the background as steve continues to swing and the video switches suddenly to him on a red check blanket eating a sandwich. he has jelly on his cheek in the same place that eddie had placed a kiss not a minute earlier and it has them both cooing like the old men they are.

but then there's a flash of something in the background. a little kid runs by followed by what's presumably his mother and it distracts little steve, who turns on his blanket to watch the two running.

"is that...?" steve starts, turning to eddie who's staring at the screen with rapt attention. the gasp he gets in return is the only answer he could possibly need. the hand around his ankle gets a little tighter and he watches as a watery smile spreads across eddie's face, salt-and-pepper beard crinkling up on his cheeks.

"that's me, that's-" he breathes out, curling in on himself slightly to peer closer at the video. in the video, steve's still staring at the little boy in the park getting picked up by his mom and being thrown in the air. his little giggles break through the speakers as his mom catches him, cradling him to her chest as she runs off screen. they come back into frame a few seconds later and crash side-by-side onto the grass. their arms start pointing at the sky like they're finding shapes in the clouds and eddie inhales sharply. "-that's my mom."

steve reaches down and clasps his hand around eddie's where it's still on his bony ankle, trailing his fingers over his husband's. eddie looks up and tosses a bewildered grin at steve who catches it easily and returns it with one of his own. as if they have magnets stored in their hearts from where the universe made them for each other, the two move closer to one another instinctually until they have arms around waists and fingers tangled together and heads on shoulders.

they sit in silence for the next few minutes, reliving a time when they were still boys with their mothers, happy and loved, not even knowing their soulmate was right next to them.

[christinarowie332]

god i love you

chris sturniolo x reader

matt sturniolo x oc

sturniolo triplets x reader

warnings : smutty smut !!! mentions of weed and nicotine, 18+ . profanity

———

reader , maggie, and the triplets have a beach day

———-

i dig my feet deeper in the sand , feeling the warmth hug my body and the soft grains scratch my bare skin. with my fingers sprawled out over the blanket i throw my head back in comfort , feeling the warm sun kiss my face as i lean back .

the sounds of a faint mac miller song humming in the background flood my ears .waves crashing to the shore , painting the sand white with its foam . i can hear chris giggling with matt and nick desperately trying to explain himself with whatever waffle he’s spewing at this moment. mags , my bestfriend, matt’s girlfriend, just sat playing with his hair laughing with them.

in my own world , i open my eyes finally, take a puff of my vape and grab my phone from my lap . opening the camera app and snapping a photo of the scene infront of me . a clear blue sky , my four best friends, boyfriend included , all laughing , their hair being plastered across their face ; brunette and blonde waving along with the wind .

i subconsciously decide to get up and immediately strip out of my oversized t-shirt i stole from chris . a black two peice caressing my curves and hugging my waist .

“chris” i call out to him throwing the t-shirt on the blanket we all sit on , large volcanic rocks holding down the corners . ”can i have my bobble babe?”

“uh yeah of course” he says after trailing his eyes down my body , before going into his joint tin and grabbing the bobble .he keeps it for me along with two joints , a lighter , a chewing gum and a polaroid of us together in matching fresh love , laughing while we jokingly do the doggy style position . his favorite photo for obvious reasons .

maggie gets where i’m going with this and mirrors my actions from before , stripping off and putting her hair in a clip , kicking her slides off and throwing her vape and phone down on the blanket .

“woah what’s happening ? i feel like i’m about to get a lap dance or some shit” nick exclaims , fake fear plastered on his face and also getting up .

“we have been at the beach for like an hour and haven’t gone in the sea ? let’s go.” i explain , chris is on his feet taking his shirt off in what feels like a millisecond. matt follows and helps nick up .

“last one in has to buy the bud next !!!” maggie screams before darting off towards the sea , me in tow and chris and matt speeding past us .

“NOT FAIR BRO” nick screams as he starts running throwing his shirt over his head while running and trying to kick off his slides while in motion .

we all run towards the sea , chris ends up falling over face first into the soft sand . i subconsciously stop and help him up , watching him lift his face up , showing his mouth full of sand and eyes closed , mouth agape laughing in shock . i loudly laugh and grab his hand pulling him up running towards the sea again . we run hand in hand still laughing , as we watch nick pass us and matt and maggie absolutely get obliterated by a wave as the meet the sea . nick makes it next and finally stops and sees his brother , covered it sand , struggling to run while laughing and spitting out sand .

me and chris make it to the sea ,both of us mermaid style diving into the sea as soon as we thought it was deep enough .

i plunge into the water , feeling bubbles trail my face and make their way to the surface, before the head reaches the warm air , hair slicked back and salty water running down my neck .

“HOW THE FUCK DID U FALL SO BADLY”

“YOU LITERALLY ATE SAND CHRIS!”

“BAHAHAHA BRO ITS ON YOUR TEETH”

we all take a second to laugh at chris and he just wipes the sand and salt from his eyes while laughing , his shoulders jumping up and down with the movement.

chris swims over to me and hugs me from behind putting his head on my shoulder . we’re not a very affectionate cutesy couple , a specially infront of his brothers , and maggie who is basically my sister . this is very evident when i turn around in chris’s hold smiling . he melted as i put both my arms around his shoulders, interlining my fingers around his neck .

“breathe” i said smiling at him. resulting in his face dropping and confusion being painted on his face . he does as i say anyway tilting his head , before i put both my hands on his shoulders and push him under the water .

i start laughing but quickly get cut off as i feel his hands grip my legs and i am also pulled under the water . we fight under the current of the waves . i emerge from the water first , and watch chris gasp for air as he surfaces. we all laugh and start relaxing in the water .

“i wonder why the beach is so empty today?” matt asks , looking at said beach , maggie narrows her eyes to where her boyfriend is looking before speaking

“probably sharks or something” she says nonchalantly, before furrowing her eyebrows and realizing that’s not so much of a reach .

“your just gonna scare yourself mags” nick says through giggles , looking at the girl slowly move towards matt for safety .

“nah everyone’s at work and school , we have no life bro we’re the only weirdos that don’t have a job” i say before angling my head back in the water , slicking my hair back again , feeling the cold water make its way onto my forehead .

“nah we have a job , just not a boring one . content creators bro . we get paid to hangout” chris says before moving his hand around my waist under the water , pulling us closer . i smile and him and put one of my hands on the back of his neck , playing with his now wet hair .

“i wonder how deep it is here” nick says , looking down into the dark swirling water , squinting his eyes , before meeting mine and raising his eyebrows , knowing i would be the only one to go to the bottom and see .

i took a breath and used chris’s body to lower myself into the water slowly, coming back up and diving down . i squint my eyes underwater and reach the floor , not too deep , watching the clean sand rippling under our feet

while swimming back up i see a blurred chris , and decide to scare the shit out of him and smack his ass under the water , i see him jump slightly, but he finds me and drags me up by my neck gently until moving his hands to my waist and bringing me to surface . i giggle under water , bubbles following my trail upwards before meeting them all and laughing before moving to chris’s back and holding his shoulders to hold me up .

“fully thought that was a fish for a good second” chris says looking back at me to meet my goofy smile .

“how do u open your eyes in the sea bro , my eyes sting just being here” matt days to me while rubbing his eye like a child , fist curled rubbing over his eye in circles.

“i literally feel like i just pored pure salt in my eye , that was a big mistake” i say laughing , rubbing my eyes like matt just was .

maggie lies down on top of the water , matt holds her and runs his hand through her hair .

we stay like that for a while . chris and i giving each other small affectionate touches , laughing and talking with nick. matt and maggie in their own little world .

“dude , do u know when u were younger did u ever like , when u were like seven like i used to like ….. no probably older then that just like i thought i was like really good at swimming and i was like kinda okay but like really i was…..” chris explains , making the entire group stare at him in confusion, before looking at each other , trying to see if anyone understands a word he’s saying .

“like i was pretty really okay but like when i would swim i like was good ….. WOW”

we all erupted into laughter at chris , him immediately getting embarrassed but also laughing, pulling me closer again and placing a small kiss to my forehead ,turning me around to hug me from behind .

“i’m gonna go back i’m freezing and i want my vape” maggie says before doggy paddling away , causing me and chris to giggle

“i’ll come too” matt says grabbing onto her legs and pulling him closer to her

“me too , i feel like i’m gonna get a cold this water is fucking freezing” nick says following behind matt and maggie , leaving me and chris in the water .

“i’m staying , i wanna chill in here longer” chris says looking towards me and smiling

i hum in agreement and swim towards him , wrapping my legs around his waist and putting my arms around his neck .

“hi” he says smiling leaning towards me .

his lips meet mine , the taste of salt lingering in my mouth as i kiss him , the cut on my lip stings but i barely feel it , relishing in chris’s hand moving up and down my thigh .

i pull away “hi” i say before placing another peck on his lips quickly. i put my palm flat on his back to stabilise myself while i run my hand through his hair , pushing his dark curls away from his face .

i put both my hands on the back of his neck and pull him towards me , attaching my lips onto his once again , one of his hands moves to my ass , lifting and squeezing it in one motion , causing me to gasp slightly and open my lips giving his tongue access to mine.

i move my hips on his , causing him to moan slightly into the kiss . i could feel him growing , my core pressed against his , grinding against him .

“chris” i moaned out , digging my painted nails into his back , clawing his shoulders leaving red lines over his muscles.

he grabbed my hand and put my palm over his hardened dick , looking into my eyes saying exactly what i needed to hear .

he pulled his shorts down , then pulled my bikini bottoms down , raising his eyebrows to get my consent he needed .

a nod of my head is all he needed , before lifting me onto him , throwing his head back in pleasure. my face burrows into his neck biting down at the feeling of him inside , leaving a mark where my mouth had been.

we moved together under water , him lifting me , me rolling my hips to the pattern i knew he liked after lots of practice over the year , moaning each other names through sloppy kisses .

after a couple of minutes we both can feel the knot slowly unraveling , thrusts getting sloppy and messy .

“y/n” he whimpered out before getting cut off by me loudly moaning into his neck

“i know chris , me too” i said before clenching around him and moaning loudly against his skin , throwing my head back in pleasure before feeling him release into me .

we both laugh and kiss each other messily , coming down from our high together .

“god i love you y/n” chris says out of breath into my neck as we both embrace each other , him still inside of me under the salty waves .

“i love you too chris” is all i got out before re-attaching our lips in a perfectly paced kiss .

———

milkie talks :

i have had a awful amount of alcohol so i don’t even know if this makes sense .

love u all . 🍼🤍

tag list :

@mangosrar @sturnphilia @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @sssturniolofart @littlebookworm803 @lividnity @deatthmatch @daddyslilchickenfingers @parkerssecrets @urmyslxt

[left-side-up]

Mars

One hour, thirty-seven minutes, and sixteen seconds left.

Martyn wipes the blood from his face, still panting heavily. He won. As the red haze fades from his mind, so does the ecstasy of victory.

He's the last one standing. It's over. So why is his clock still ticking?

For the first time since becoming red, he's... numb. His eyes land on Scott's body.

"Come on," he whispers, as if breaking the silence would wake his teammate, as if anything could wake Scott now. "Time to go home."

One hour, six minutes, and ten seconds left.

It takes Martyn a while to carry Scott's body back to the Coral Isles and begin digging. He furrows his brow as he pushes the shovel into the earth, hoping the minimal enchantments will save him some time. He has to get this done. Has to make up for what he did, even if it's just a small gesture like this.

(Has to keep his mind off of the memories that have been slipping into his head since he killed Impulse. Soulmates, spyglasses, snow. Things that were stolen from him long ago.)

He groans as the shovel hits stone, then pulls out his pickaxe. This is going to take longer than he'd hoped.

Thirty-eight minutes and thirty-two seconds left.

Martyn almost sheds a tear of relief when the grave is finally deep enough. Instead, he spends those precious seconds setting down the shovel and going to pick up Scott.

He's badly burned from the lava, and the stab wound has left his shirt covered in blood. He'd hate that Martyn is leaving him in such a filthy set of clothes, but he'd also hate the idea of Martyn swapping his shirt out for him. It probably doesn't matter all that much- he's going to be covered in dirt either way.

"Alright, Smajor," Martyn tells him. "Time to rest."

He lowers his teammate into the grave.

(A fellow soldier of Dogwarts. A canary. And now, his Mean Gill. Though he didn't know it when he began digging, he's done this before.)

Once Scott is settled, Martyn picks the shovel back up. His work isn't finished yet.

Eleven minutes and fifty-one seconds left.

At last, Scott is put to rest, and Martyn is free to lie down and breathe.

The ocean breeze pushes his hair out of his face. He's acutely aware of the dried blood and sweat on his skin, but he can't be bothered with it. He's not spending his last ten minutes alive taking a bath.

Besides, he knows the feeling won't go away no matter how hard he scrubs at the grime.

With nothing to keep him busy, the swarm of memories attacks him with renewed fervor. A lonely bastion. A group of towers. A castle, drained of its warmth. A resentful soulbound, a traitorous group of four, a unified army. Everything bleeds together and pulls him in every direction he's ever been in. Each path leads to one thing.

Guilt.

Guilt for leaving the one person who was supposed to be by his side until the end. For letting each and every one of his friends die before him. For failing to protect his king.

And now, for killing his only friend in the world.

He lets himself drown in it.

One minute and forty-seven seconds left.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

The grave doesn't respond. Graves don't tend to respond to apologies.

"I think I'm only capable of being truly loyal to one person. And he's found his way out of this hell, so... yeah."

The waves crash against the beach. The sand in the hourglass trickles down.

One minute and nineteen seconds left.

"I didn't know that I was going to betray you. If this happens again- if this cursed game keeps going, I need you to find better allies, yeah? Don't trust me. I don't want to backstab you again."

He opens his eyes to find the sky clear and blue for the first time in a while. It's been filled with smoke and ash for the past few days, but it seems to have finally cleared up.

Thirty-six seconds left.

Martyn grabs the banner from his belt. He didn't know what it meant when he made it. He just knew that it felt right.

Now, he stares at the red flag of Dogwarts again, and he misses someone.

"I hope you found your way out this game for good. Not because I don't miss you. I just... want you to be happy."

Twenty seconds left.

"I wish I'd had time to apologize to you too. I wish we'd met somewhere nicer."

Thirteen seconds left.

"But there's no point in wishing here, is there?"

Eight seconds left.

Martyn holds the banner to his chest. Looks at the grave beside him. Closes his eyes again.

Four seconds left.

"Goodbye, Scott. Bye, Ren."

Three.

Two.

One.

[ladelinee]

Summary: (𝘙𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥! ☺️) 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘌𝘭𝘷𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

Word Count: 3𝘒

Warnings: 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

🩵 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 🩵

You were on a beach in the Caribbean, the sun kissed your skin, turning it golden, and you felt the fine sand gently exfoliating the soles of your feet. You sighed, feeling peace and comfort. With a bit of trepidation, you walked towards the shore, unsure if the water would be too cold. As the waves broke and you approached, you felt the freshly wet sand and sensed that the temperature wasn’t too bad.

You started to slowly wade into the water, the waves dancing with you, letting your body be carried away. The water was crystal clear, and its blue hue was striking. It relaxed you so much that you lay back in the water and floated, your body undulating, the waves massaging you. You found peace in that sensation and closed your eyes.

Suddenly, your body began to move more and more, the sea became a bit murky, and the blue sky above turned dark gray. The wind began to blow strongly, making the waves swallow you. You fought for your life, and when you surfaced, you found yourself among icebergs.

At that moment, a distant but intense voice imposed itself on the scene.

"Damn it!"

You looked around but couldn’t find anyone. Your anxiety levels began to rise as you noticed the water temperature dropping drastically.

With a sudden jolt, you woke up, your breathing rapid and heart racing. The room was bathed in a bluish dimness, with soft dawn light filtering through the window. Your vision was blurred, but you could see Elvis moving around the room, cursing quietly. When he realized you were awake, his eyes met yours.

“Hey, honey. Sorry… I’ve just… uh…” Elvis spoke with a hint of nervousness in his voice, unsure of what to say or do. Suddenly, you felt him carefully pulling back the sheets, removing the hot water bottle that was meant to keep you warm. He looked at you with concern as he said, “Yeah, I’m just gonna change out the water real quick, okay darlin’?”

It suddenly dawned on you what was happening. The water in the hot water bottle had cooled, and it was causing your hands to ache again. As you tried to move the duvet a bit more, a sharp pain shot through your hands, and you thought to yourself “Oh no, not again…”

Since you were diagnosed with this condition, Elvis has been very attentive to you, sometimes too much. This condition wasn’t very serious but it certainly wasn’t comfortable. However, for Elvis, it felt like the end of the world.

This was going to be the first week you stayed at Graceland, at Elvis’ insistence, and everything was new to you.

The sound of Elvis' energetic footsteps against the carpet filled your ears, followed by the feeling of the mattress sinking on your right side. You knew he had sat down on the bed, and then the soft click of the lamp on his bedside table being turned on filled the room with a warm, gentle glow.

“All right, lemme see, darlin’” Elvis tenderly said as he searched for one of your hands. With the additional light, you could now see his face. His pitch-black hair was tousled, his usually bright blue eyes were partially closed and slightly squinted due to the sudden brightness of the lamp, and his eyes were puffy with dark circles underneath— signs that he hadn't gotten much sleep.

As Elvis gently held your hand, you could see the difference between your hand and his. Your fingers were white and had bluish tips, while his hand was perfectly tanned and much larger in comparison. The stark contrast was striking, highlighting the difference in your skin color.

“Oh, worse than I thought” Elvis said, inspecting each of your fingers held between his big hands. You could feel a significant temperature difference as soon as he touched you.

“Let’s forget about the hot water bottle for now,” Elvis said, setting it aside before getting back into bed. He positioned himself in front of you and pulled you closer. “Let’s remove that icy color and keep you warm. C’mere, darlin’” he said, opening the top of his robe and revealing his chest. With gentle hands, he took both of your cold hands and placed them against his warm chest. He then wrapped your hands back up in the robe, creating a snug cocoon of warmth around them.

You felt the rise and fall of his breathing, extremely comforting, his heartbeats were intense but steady. Gradually, your hands began to warm up with the contact of his skin.

“Rough night?” you asked amid the silence, seeing his puffy eyes while you waited for your hands to come back to normal.

Elvis curved his lips into a smile. “They ain’t never bad when you’re with me. In fact, I reckon I should be askin’ you that!” he replied.

You were well aware that Elvis suffered from insomnia, but his decision to stop taking his sleeping pills to ensure he could care for you in case something happened at night caused you to feel a bit guilty. It was a selfless gesture, showing how much he cared for your well-being, even at the cost of his own sleep.

But that was just the way Elvis was, or at least it would be until he adjusted to this new reality—or until he finished reading all the books he had requested his guys to buy for him about Raynaud’s phenomenon. Lately, you had seen him very worried and nervous, wanting to protect you but not sure how. For now, anyway, this was how things would remain until further notice.

"How are you feeling, baby?” Elvis asked, breaking the silence and gently covering the area where he had tucked your hands inside his robe. His voice was filled with tenderness and worry as he asked, searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

"It's going numb” you replied, describing the uncomfortable feeling. Although it wasn’t pleasant to feel that way, you felt a sense of relief knowing that this was usually the final stage. Soon, your fingers would regain their normal feeling.

Elvis looked into your eyes, trying to comfort you despite the concern that flickered across his own face. “Mmm, let’s have a look,” he said in a more cheerful tone, carefully taking one of your hands from his chest. As he intently studied your fingers, you noticed the tips gradually changing color, becoming red as the blood circulation slowly returned. However, the burning sensation was undeniable.

A variety of emotions swirled within you. On one hand, you felt an immense sense of protection when Elvis took care of you, yet on the other, you were reluctant to trouble him with these issues. You knew his busy agenda, and arguing with him was futile, as he would always prioritize your well-being over his commitments.

With a soft sigh escaping through his nostrils, Elvis carefully studied your expression and could instantly sense what was going through your mind. Then, with tenderness, he started kissing each of your fingers, his soft lips gently touching your skin. Gradually, the warmth of his breath and the affectionate contact with his lips helped your fingers regain their normal feeling, providing a soothing sensation as they slowly returned to their normal state.

You let out a satisfied hum, feeling a gradual wave of relief wash over you as a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips. Elvis stopped kissing your fingers and looked at you, with a smile on his face.

"I take it that means it's better" he said, his expression filled with warmth.

"Yes, much better. Thank you," you said, expressing your gratitude with a smile of your own.

"Now, darlin’, be sure to keep the hot water bottle close” Elvis suggested, carefully placing the bottle between your body and his. Once the bottle was securely in place, he gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a soothing embrace. "I'll take care of ya" he mumbled, his voice firm and reassuring. "Go back to sleep, I’ve got ya."

“Hmm, I don't think I’ll be able to fall asleep again” you said, looking at the window where the first rays of the morning sun were shining through.

Elvis chuckled, continuing to trace comforting circles on your back as he lifted his head to look at your face, which was nestled against his chest.

“I ain’t feelin’ sleepy either, to be honest” he admitted, a small smile playing on his lips. “How ’bout we have a big breakfast?”

Your stomach rumbled in agreement, the thought of food already eliciting a satisfied response.

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, your voice filled with excitement.

Elvis then twisted his torso, stretching his arm towards the edge of the bed. With his free hand, he carefully picked up the golden phone on the nightstand. The cold metal felt smooth against his fingers as he expertly pressed the buttons on the phone, dialing the number he needed.

He brought the phone to his ear, waiting for a response, his gaze still fixed on you while he continued to trace soothing circles on your back.

“Mary? Hey, good mornin’, honey. We woke up a bit earlier than usual. No, no, just a few little hiccups, ya know.” Elvis chuckled, listening to what Mary, his maid, was saying. “Could you make us breakfast? Thanks, sweetheart. See ya downstairs,” he concluded, smiling as he hung up the phone.

Elvis smiled down at you, gently kissing your forehead.

“All right, it’s time to get ya ready,” he stated confidently, well aware of what was about to happen.

You tried to reassure him, replying, “Elvis, it's gonna be too much, I’ll be fine.”

But he wouldn’t hear of it. With a tender smile, he responded “When it comes to you, there’s no such thing as ‘too much.’"

He got out of bed and continued, his voice filled with sincerity. “My mama taught me to take care of the people I love, and you are a true treasure to me, little one”

You felt a warm blush creep up your cheeks, a smile playing on your lips as you shook your head. You slid a pair of thick, soft socks onto your feet and slipped into Elvis' oversized slippers, the familiar warmth enveloping your toes.

Elvis always had a knack for persuading you, no matter the situation. He watched you, with affection and amusement, as you clumsily maneuvered across the room in his enormous slippers.

Elvis walked over to the closet and selected one of his robes, carefully bringing it over to you. With a tender tone, he instructed, "Arms up!"

You obediently raised your arms, feeling the luxurious fabric envelope your body. As he secured the robe around you, you couldn’t help smiling when you notice the embroidered “EP” on the right side.

Next, Elvis reached for the mittens he had bought for you. They were pristine white, fluffy, and lined with soft fur inside, guaranteed to keep your hands warm and cozy.

“Elvis…” you said, holding out your arms so he could see what he was doing.

“What, darlin’?” Elvis asked with an innocent look. His eyes traveled up and down, scanning you. He burst out laughing when he saw you in the oversized slippers, robe, and mittens.

Elvis smirked enjoying your mood, as he gently touched the tip of your nose with his finger.

“I see what you mean, but trust me, you look adorable” he assured you, a hint of playful mockery in his tone.

You huffed in mock indignation, readjusting the loose robe draped over your body. "Oh, everyone's going to have a good laugh when I go downstairs like this" you declared, trying to sound annoyed despite the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

Elvis continued laughing, looking at your improvised outfit. “Come on, sweetheart, you need to stay warm. I promise I won’t let anyone laugh at ya, and if they do, I’ll take care of them myself.”

You sighed, knowing there was no way out of this without playing along. Elvis always had a way of making you feel good. “All right” you said, giving him a playful warning look.

“We sure as heck need to go shopping soon, but darlin’, with you all wrapped up in that loose robe, you look like a gift I’m just itchin’ to unwrap.” Elvis added in a playful tone before heading downstairs.

You walked down the stairs together, Elvis’ hand still firmly placed on your back. As you approached the last few steps, you sensed activity happening in the living room. From halfway down the stairs, you could see people already gathered in the room, their voices drifting up the stairs and reaching your ears.

Marty, one of Elvis' Memphis Mafia friends, greeted you both as you stepped into the living room.

Elvis, with a hint of surprise, turned to the others. "Mornin', y'all. I'm surprised to see y'all up and about so early. It's only 7:30 in the mornin'." he remarked, his eyebrow raised in mild confusion. He tightened his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as he spoke.

“We haven’t slept yet, and since we heard you were up, we stayed here” Marty replied. Next to Marty was Billy, who was laughing for some reason unknown to Elvis.

Elvis didn’t like this at all.

His voice grew colder, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. "Billy" Elvis said, reaching into the depths of his robe and pulling out a gleaming gun, "I’m gonna give ya 10 seconds to get the hell outta my sight before I turn that damn ass of yours into Swiss cheese." He pointed the gun towards the front door of Graceland.

Billy turned pale, his smile disappearing from his face as he slowly stood up, confused

“TEN! NINE..!” Elvis shouted, starting the countdown. His voice startled you.

You watched Billy run toward the front door, disappearing into the acres. Elvis followed him with slow steps, stopping at the lion statues at the entrance to see if Billy had managed to get out of his sight.

“THREE, TWO, ONE!!!” *bang* Elvis finished the countdown and fired into the sky, laughing heartily along with the guys who were watching through the window. He knew Billy would be terrified.

With a smirk, Elvis sauntered back into the house, returning to your side after his display outside. As he approached, he turned to you, a smug look on his face. "See, darlin’?" he said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "I told ya I'd handle anybody who decided to laugh. Ain't sure if it was at you, but either way, I wasn't gonna take no chances."

You smiled, but you couldn't help but notice the odd feeling on your lips and the shiver that ran through your body. The cold air had made your lips turn a pale blue, and you were starting to feel colder by the minute.

Elvis’s expression shifted to one of concern. “Oh god, I’m sorry” Elvis apologized, thinking of a solution while hugging you. He then looked at the guys sitting on the sofa.

Elvis gave the guys a firm order, “Alright, everyone out!” The men, seeing what was happening, got up and left the room. Elvis turned back to you and led you to the sofa by the fireplace.

“Sit down, honey” he said, his voice gentle but worried as he helped you sit.

Struggling with the oversized robe wrapped around you, you finally managed to settle on the sofa. Elvis, always attentive, sat next to you, making sure everything was perfect.

A bit later, Mary, alerted by the guys, wheeled a small cart into the living room, turning it into a makeshift breakfast table.

As Elvis thanked Mary for her efforts, you were amazed at the spread: toast, pancakes, cereal, eggs… When you tried to pick up a fork, the mittens made it impossible.

“Elvis, I can’t eat like this,” you whispered, holding up your mittened hands for emphasis.

Elvis chuckled loudly after his brief conversation with Mary. “Looks like you’re at the mercy of a professional then. No complaints, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you’re fed real good,” he teased, enjoying the opportunity to personally feed you.

You both burst into laughter as Elvis, with little success, tried to feed you a toast with jam, each bite turning into a comical situation. After a while, Elvis finally gave up and gently removed the mittens, setting them aside and handing you a hot cup of coffee so you could keep your hands warm.

As you sat enjoying breakfast with Elvis by the fireplace, a cozy and pleasant atmosphere enveloped the room.

Elvis glanced at your lips, noticing their color had improved slightly.

“Your lips look a bit better,” Elvis said, looking at you closely. “Let me take a closer look real quick to make sure they’re okay.”

Elvis leaned in with deliberate tenderness, closing the gap between you. His lips touched yours, soft and gentle, offering a warm comfort to your chilled lips.

As you neared the end of your breakfast, a part of you wished for the moment to never end. The warmth of the fire, Elvis' gentle presence, and the comfort of the situation felt almost magical.

Elvis, finishing his last few bites, washed them down before speaking up, his voice tinged with a hint of reluctance, "Well, we’ve got a meeting in two hours. Folks from Las Vegas are coming over."

You frowned at his words. “‘We?’ Elvis, we’ve been over this. I’d rather stay here” you replied.

“No, no, ya’re coming with me, darlin’” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm. “That way, I can keep an eye on ya.” As he spoke, he started massaging your hands, working to improve the circulation and warm them up.

You recalled how comfortable the trip from your house to Graceland had been. Elvis had arranged everything perfectly: the car’s heating was cranked up, there were blankets, a scarf, and hot water bottles ready. This journey to the meeting would be no different, yet you didn’t want Elvis to divert all his attention to you while dealing with business. You worried he might neglect his responsibilities, and that was something you couldn’t bear to forgive yourself for.

"Elvis, I’m staying here" you repeated, your voice firm. With a hint of reassurance, you added, "And I'm feeling genuinely good right now."

Elvis paused, his concern etched in his eyes as he asked, "Ya sure honey?" You nodded without hesitation.

He sighed, a hint of reluctance in his voice, “Alright” he said. “I’ll make sure the guys stay here with ya, and we’ll give Dr. Nick a call if anything comes up. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

You reassured him, your tone filled with confidence, "Don’t worry, I'll be right here."

Elvis then showered your face with soft, affectionate kisses, his arms encircling you protectively.

As he held you close, you whispered to him, "You know I love you, right?"

A warm smile tugged at the corners of Elvis' lips, his voice filled with tenderness, "And I love ya too, little one."

Tags: @elvispresleywife 🩵

[majestyeverlasting]

A Sure and Steady Thing

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: A rainy evening in Hawkins sets your lake plans awry, but brings you closer together back at his place through a confession you didn't quite see coming.

Word Count: 2k

Features kissing and big feelings.

Relaxing into the passenger seat, you close your eyes and listen to the pattering rain. With how clear and blue the sky had been, doubting the weatherman hadn’t seemed so bad. He’d been wrong before, speaking of storms that never reared their heads. Except this evening, as dark clouds settled over Hawkins, that was far from the case. 

Eddie can’t keep up with all of the fat droplets rushing down the window but he sure does make a game out of it like when he was a kid. 

He doesn’t stop until he feels the gentle pull of you wrapping one of his curls around your finger. Wash day was two nights ago, so it’s still soft as silk. Curiosity glimmers in his eyes as he directs his gaze to your careful movements. 

You smile at him. “Remember when I used to do this in Mrs. O'Donnell's?” 

Halfway through senior year, the guy who sat behind him dropped out and you took his seat. Eddie had seen you around before, but only enough to offer nods of acknowledgement. The day you finally gave into the urge to play with his hair he didn’t tell you to stop. 

“You were in that class with me?” A smirk pulls at his lips. 

“Yeah,” you play along. “Had a big, fat crush that took you about five hundred years to see.” 

Chuckling, he looks down and begins turning one of his rings. 

Touching his hair expanded to drawing shapes on his back to passing cutesy notes. Somehow he’d still convinced himself that it was all some trick of the fluorescent lights. It wasn’t until you admitted your feelings straight to his face that he stopped holding back from expressing his. 

“I got there in the end, though,” he says as you uncurl your finger. 

Looking out the windshield, you can barely make out the line of trees before you. Let alone the trail that leads down a small hill to the lakefront. The rain showed no immediate sign of letting up, and there was only so much to do bound to a couple seats. 

“Maybe we should plan for another day,” you suggest.

“If you’re tired of sitting here with me, you could just say so.” If it wasn’t for the lilt in his voice you would’ve believed his sincerity.  

There’s fondness in your eyes as you meet his gaze. “When did I say that, hmm? Just don’t wanna be cramped in a van, is all.” 

His eyes flit down to your lips when you offer a sweet smile that’s convincing enough. The console creaks as he braces a forearm arm on it to lean closer to you. 

You melt a little when he presses his lips to yours. Your first kiss had gone something like this, just moments before he’d pulled out of the bustling school parking lot to drive you home. It was over before it began, rendering you both silent and grinning like fools under the spell of love. 

It was nothing like the kiss you shared now that was as sure and steady as the falling rain. 

There’s a tender depth to his eyes when you part. Like you’re staring straight through to an unbarred part of him that was just for you. 

“We take the long way home if you want,” you say. 

He smiles at that word. Home. 

With how often you found yourself at his trailer, it was just as much yours. Any place was capable of feeling like home when there was love within its walls. He found that out for himself the day his mom dropped him off at Wayne’s trailer with a trash bag, a suitcase, and wide eyes. He eventually wanted to go off and grow into another home with you. 

“What’s that look for?” You tilt your head. 

Instead of answering, he gives your chin a gentle pinch between his thumb and forefinger before starting up the engine again. 

•••

The streets of Hawkins are quiet and empty. Even more so than they usually are. By the time he pulls into Forest Hills trailer park, your hand has long been grasped in his. He gives it a gentle squeeze as he comes to a stop in front of his place. 

“On my count?” 

You nod, grabbing onto the door handle. 

“Three…two…one!” 

Both of you hop out of the van at the same time, weaving towards the front door. Warm raindrops immediately begin darkening your clothes and wetting your skin. Muddier parts of the ground give under your footsteps, but you’re careful not to tread too heavily. The wind picks up, thick with the sweet scent of the earth. 

You stop behind as Eddie as he pushes the key into the lockhole—or so you thought. They fall out of his grip and clink to the wooden steps as he curses. The first streak of lighting lights the sky, followed by a low rumbling of thunder.  

He snickers as he tries again. “Take two.” 

Both of you clamber inside this time around. Thankfully, it’s warm and you aren’t met with the chill of the AC against your wet skin. There’s an intimate promise in being back. Everything is just as you left it, your belongings mixed in with his and Wayne’s and almost blending in. You take off your shoes and leave them on the mat by the door. 

“I’ll bring everything in later,” Eddie says as he rubs the moisture on his arms. 

The shrill ring of the landline interrupts his next thought. 

“Hello?” he says upon answering. “Hey, Jess, what’s up?” There’s a curious furrow between your brows as you walk over to hug him from behind. 

When he peeks back at you, you kiss his shoulder. 

“And he just told you this today?...Yeah, no, I’ll be able to come in then.” You perk up in interest. 

“Really, it’s no problem, man. Shit happens.” Eddie looks down at your fingers as you slip them under the hem of his shirt, gracing over old scars. 

“Alright, see you tomorrow.” 

When he puts the phone back on the base, you make an inquisitive sound. 

“I gotta go into the shop early,” he tells you. 

Humming, you splay your fingers over the warmth of his stomach. “No staying up late then.”

A hard feat when he was with you. There were always more conversations to have, more kisses to share, another movie to watch. Time always escaped from you, if you ever had a grip at all. 

As Eddie turns around in your hold, you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“What now?” Your question is light. 

“I dunno,” he murmurs, drawn in again by your nearness and the sweet scent of your perfume. “I mean, I’ve got a couple ideas…”

You smile against his lips when they meet yours. 

It’s a feeling you get lost in, letting yourself sink and then rise up again. There’s a warmth that builds and builds, and because there is no place for it to overflow you have to contain it all. It’s the only type of burning that’s ever felt good. 

Eddie pulls away just long enough to lead you over to the couch. After he sinks down into the plush cushions, you straddle his thighs like they’re the best seat in the house. The weight of your body makes his head spin, and the way your chest brushes his as you lean in again makes him thirst like he’s gone without.

So he drinks and drinks and drinks more of you in.

For the longest time he swore the universe kept the sweetest things in life tucked away from him. Somehow you’d slipped through the cracks and found your way to him against the odds. 

A sudden gust of wind blows, and the trailer walls creek in a way that makes you pull away. As you take a look around, you realize the warm glow of the lights have disappeared. All that’s left is the soft natural light pouring in. 

Eddie watches the skin of your neck as you look everywhere but him. 

“Power’s out,” you note, voice thick. “Should we turn on the radio in case they’re saying anything important?” 

His hands squeeze your waist in what you assume to be an acknowledgement of your words. But it's really because you’re sitting so pretty with bright eyes and dewy lips. Turning back around to the sight of him staring so intently makes warmth rise to your cheeks. 

“There’s that look again,” you softly accuse. “What’s going on up here?” You tap your index finger against his temple before trailing it down under his chin, making him shiver. 

He purses his lips and shrugs.   

“Try me.” 

He squeezes your waist tighter, this time to stay grounded to earth. Outside, the storm begins to wane as if the universe is setting the stage for him. 

“You’re it for me,” he finally says. “There’s a bunch of stuff I haven’t done and a bunch of stuff I still need to learn, but I’m sure about you.”  

It feels like a garden begins to bloom within you, right down to the bone. 

Being sure about anything was a risk. It took the type of faith that asked you to walk blindly into the future, relying only on what you knew in the now. If he didn’t know anything else, he knew that life without you wouldn’t be half as worth living. The happiness you drew out of him was immeasurable day after day. He’d stopped trying to make sense of it. 

Wayne had warned him about a love like this one evening as they were looking through pictures of his late wife when Eddie was still a boy. He’d told him that one day somebody would come along and knock him off his feet in a way that made him question everything he thought he knew about himself—but in the best possible way. 

It sounded obscure at the time. Eddie didn’t want to fall or be forced to rethink anything. At eleven-years-old, he swore all he needed for the rest of his life was his guitar. Wayne had laughed at his nephew’s confidence, but still made him promise that when that type of love came around, he didn’t run from it no matter how much it terrified him. 

Eddie found himself running from a lot thereafter. All he seemed to do was run, and run, and run. It wasn’t until he officially met you in Mrs. O'Donnell's English class that he slammed on the brakes for one of the few times in his life. 

You lean forward until your forehead touches his. “I love you so much it hurts sometimes,” you whisper. 

Eddie laughs a little, overwhelmed. “Good to know we’re in the same boat.” 

He takes hold of your left hand and blindly runs his thumb over your ring finger. 

You were a couple of kids from Hawkins, Indiana, who’d seen the impossible, falling in love and drunk on the thought of forever—the world would’ve never thought. 

The storm has rolled out by the time the sun begins to set, and fleeting daylight cuts through the clouds in defined golden streaks. It looks like heaven has been cracked open over Hawkins. As the two of you take it all in from the front porch, you can’t help but suppose it has. 

Come the next weekend as you’re sitting beside Eddie on the shore of Lover’s Lake, you can’t take your eyes off the way your engagement ring marvelously catches the light. 

-

Thanks for reading! I promise I see and appreciate every like, comment, and reblog. <3

Turn on notifications for @taleseverlasting so you don’t miss another fic!

[mariacrow]

HIII! It's so nice to find someone who also enjoys bayverse! If I may, could I request bayverse bumblebee fluff between the events of dotm and aoe, where bumblebee and reader are taking a break from running to stargaze? Poor thing seems so stressed to the point there's no bubbly cheer in the 4th movie

Maybe you could sprinkle in a little angst in which cybertron is mentioned and bee points out its approximate location in the sky? Have a wonderful day/night!

Coming right up ;)

❁ Bumblebee x reader ❁

2nd person

female reader

fluff

takes place between Transformers: Dark of the Moon and Transformers: Age of Extinction

stargazing, cuddling, comfort, reassurance

It’s been a few months since Sentinel and Megatron have been defeated. Everyone is just.. so tired of everything. Running, fighting, dealing with everything all over again. It’s a never ending loop. You’ve also noticed Bumblebee seems a bit down lately… As if that happy bumblebee inside of him stopped buzzing…

Tonight he decided to stay with you, in your garage. He wouldn’t come out though. Usually he’d have fun in your backyard, make some mess on accident, tap your bedroom window and try to come in through the backyard door.

You decided to check on him. You opened the backyard garage door.

“Bee…?”

He let out a low buzz.

“Hey…” you warmly smiled at him and approached, giving his hood a gentle pat, “You okay there…?”

He was silent for a couple of seconds, then he carefully transformed, supporting himself with his knee as he was leaning closer to you.

Standing in front of him, you cupped his faceplate with both of your hands, lovingly looking into his beautiful, shining blue orbs. He sunk into your tender touch, closing his optics… Your heart ached for him but you didn’t let that warm smile leave your face.

“Resting, huh?” you spoke to him softly, your voice like the sweetest honey dripping from your mouth.

He opened his optics, looking at you like a sad puppy… He nodded.

“Come on out. The sky is beautiful tonight.” you stepped aside.

His spark warmed up as he carefully got out, walking farther into your backyard, looking up. He happily buzzed as he slowly sat down on the soft grass, touching it a little.

He then looked at you and let you climb on his servo. He brought you closer to his face and let you sit on his chassis. He kept his servo gently wrapped around you, just in case. You were gently holding onto his index digit while looking up at the starry sky.

“Do you ever wonder how many lives are out there, similar to us? What we’re looking at now is an endless space… Technically, we all share the same sky.” you smiled, “I think that’s beautiful… and unsettling.” you chuckled.

You gave him an idea. He pointed at Venus.

“Yeah, that’s planet Venus.” you smiled.

He lifted his other arm closer to you as a clear hologram of Venus shined from the top of his forearm. Your eyes widened as the hologram reflected in your pretty eyes.

“The planet of love.” he spoke over the radio as he lovingly looked at you, his optics spinning and expanding.

He made you blush and giggle, “Oh you…” your heart fluttering. You gave his face plate a soft smooch which made his spark turn into a puddle and almost leak out of his chassis. He scooted you a bit closer and snuggled against your face and shoulder as you moved your arm under his chin and placed your soft hand onto his face plate.

He then pointed onto another shining dot in the sky. It was Saturn. He also displayed its hologram.

“My favorite— planet in the Solar system.”

Dialogue option 1:

“Aww! It’s so cute you did research. Saturn is my favorite too!” you smiled at him.

“Twins!!” he made you laugh with that girly quote from a movie.

Dialogue option 2:

“Aww! It’s so cute you did research. A lot of people also like Saturn, its rings make it look so unique.”

“What’s your favorite— planet?” he asked over the radio.

You told him your favorite one in the Solar system. He scanned the sky and pointed at it.

“There!” he showed you the hologram of it. While you were looking at it in awe, he was too busy looking at your cute face with wide, sparkly eyes full of surprise and a big honest smile.

°

“Can you show me your planet?” you asked curiously.

Bumblebee looked up at the sky again. He was scanning it a bit longer. He couldn’t find it…

“It’s too— far away… I can’t find it…” he said with a sad face expression.

“Oh, Bee… I’m so sorry… You must miss it a lot…” you said while gently caressing his face plate.

“I do…” he showed you the hologram of his planet he kept in his memory… He deeply vented and ex-vented, as if he sighed…

“Wow… it’s beautiful…”

“Was…” Bee let out a sad buzz as he turned off the hologram.

“Heey heyheyhey.. Don’t lose hope, buddy, okay?” you said reassuringly with a warm smile, “You will bring it back one day. I know you will. Hope dies last.”

He gently nuzzled his face plate against your soft cheek and hair, closing his optics as cute, low buzzing rumbled in his warm chassis. He held you close with both of his servos as you touched his face plate with both of your tiny hands.

He gently pressed his muzzle against your lips, as if he wanted to kiss you… That made you giggle as you gave him a sweet, long kiss. You made his bumblebee-like antennas wiggle as his spark almost started beating like a human heart.

He slowly lay down on the nicely trimmed, fresh grass, keeping you close to him as he was gently petting your head with his index digit. You sighed lovingly and relaxed in his tender, caring embrace.

“I could stay like this with you forever…” you said.

“Me too— Y/N…” he actually said your name… He almost made you cry…

He played “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak, it’s one of his favorite summer songs.

You continued stargazing and enjoying some relaxing, mostly vintage music that Bee was playing over the radio while cuddling. This might be one of Bumblebee’s favorite moments with you so far.

Dividers belong to @cute-sushi-roll , @tex-treasures 🌻