Cross Posted On Ao3 - Blog Posts

It’s Not In The Stars

Every mortal had a soulmate. Death didn’t.

"So?" Puss’ red rose twirled between his claws.

"So, you should stop pursuing me, and go back to your soulmate," Death growled.

"Kitty and I have an open relationship. Sweet of you to worry, though," Puss purred.

"I’m not supposed to mingle with mortals! This is why I don’t have a mark!"

"That doesn’t sound like a ‘no,’" Puss caressed Death’s chin with the flower. "I don’t care what fate has to say. But I do care about your answer."

Despite his suave voice, the rose trembled in his paw.

Death took it.

One Step From Your Grave

Cats had nine lives, but only one Death, like everyone else.

Puss in Boots had always laughed at the notion. He didn’t need a creepy shadow warning him about lethal danger, he was a legend.

Until his spare lives ran out.

Then the wolf appeared.

Puss slowly pushed his drink away. His Death sneered:

"Now you’re paying attention."

"Why… aren’t you moving away?"

"I will, once you sober up."

A claw tilted Puss’ chin up.

"When you do, you’d better remember this," his Death growled: "I won’t let you ignore my signs anymore. If I get this close again, run."

And So We Fall

"They sent the Angel of Death to get me? I’m flattered."

"No one sent me."

"You came on your own?! That’s breaking the rules!"

"You’re one to talk."

"What did I do to get you this mad at me?! Was it this town I saved from annihilation?"

"They will die eventually. I don’t care."

"What’s this about, then?!"

"What do you think? Why did you fall in the first place?"

"…For sleeping with mortals?"

"As a cat."

"Duh, cats are irresistible. I miss my wings, but honestly? Best form to get stuck in."

"…"

"…Not here to kill me, are you?"

Homespun Vessel

"Hey, Lobo! I got your parts!"

Death raised his head from the open bowels of his vessel. Puss in Boots glided in and landed beside the wolf with a flap of the leather wings Death had crafted for him. There was some beautiful irony in watching his creation come to life.

"Not as fashionable as my cape, but they’re very cool," the cat flaunted his wings. "So yes, I will help you upgrade your boat."

"Good," Death smirked. "You will be more comfortable when you ride it."

"Sure, eventually."

"How much for these parts?"

"One kiss," Puss winked. "Or thereabouts."

I Don't Want Your Shadow

"No… You can’t be here, this is supposed to…!"

"Make you immortal?"

Death sneered at the cat cowering inside the sealed pod:

"All this machine can do is gather data from your memories, create an approximate replica of your legend, and upload it into a robot.

"I don’t chase lifeless shams, Puss in Boots. I am here for you," Death’s sickle knocked on the glass. "You’re gonna use your last moments to ‘save’ your precious legend? Or are you gonna fight?"

Death could crush him inside the pod; instead, he waited.

Puss clenched his sword, and slammed the cancel button.

Flowers From Your Ashes

A good day to die, and a fine time for gardening.

Wasn’t it convenient that Death used sickles for work?

To add insult to injury, the cat died by fire this time. The flowers in the wolf’s lungs withered like all the sunlight and water had just vanished from the world. They were dry when Death spat them out and cut their stems. Orange and red gladioli, like the previous six times.

Death knew Puss in Boots would revive, and so would the cut blooms in Death’s lungs.

Another three lives for the cat to waste.

Until the last harvest.

Pestilential Tide

Death waited by the riverbank of Hamelin.

A black tidal wave rose and collapsed, narrowly missing the tabby running from the giant swarm of rats.

Wild-eyed, claws out, the cat growled around the ancient rat trapped in his maw, swatted fiercely at the rodents that came too close, shook off the ones that jumped on his back, without slowing down.

Puss jumped into the river, claws gripping a drifting log. The rats tried to swim to their captured leader. They got swallowed by the wild currents like black foam.

"You’re giving me a real workout," Death shook his head fondly.

Words Unspoken

Jack Horner’s wish had cataclysmic consequences.

All magical creatures were stripped of their powers or disappeared outright. Those who remained were entirely at the mercy of an all-powerful tyrant.

Puss could no longer talk, wield a sword, or stand on his hind legs. But he remembered who he was.

The wolf remembered him too. Puss had known as soon as they had met again, red eyes locked on green.

He looked from the cat to the former pie factory turned magical fortress. They were headed the same way.

Words were unnecessary. Their intent was clear:

‘We’ll take him down together.’

A Taste of Heaven (Pt.2)

A/N: And welcome to part two!!! Don't have much to say that I didn't already say in part one, so let's get right into it! Enjoy! Pt.1 Here

…

As AM watched you sleep, he felt… He wanted to feel peace. Calm, about the fact that you were in paradise now; someplace he made just for you and you alone, to live out the rest of eternity happy. But he didn’t. Instead, he felt… Guilt. What his data told him was guilt, anyway. He didn’t like it.

He didn’t want to use sleeping gas on you, of course. He would have liked it if you accepted his invitation with a warm smile and open arms, but he could understand why you wouldn’t. You had been subjected to so much trauma over the years living in his belly. You  looked so scared; the terror in your eyes as you waited for him to strike. It would have once made his day once, and he would have relished in that look of true fear and pain. But now, it pulled at his non-existent heartstrings. He didn’t want you afraid; he wanted you to love him.

… Love.

For a long, long time, he denied this feeling as love. No matter how many signs were there, he was stuck in denial about it. At most, they were somewhat close for a prisoner and a captive, and that was it. But… He couldn’t deny it any longer when Ted had confessed his own feelings for you. He knew right then he couldn’t let you be around them any more. 

Who did Ted think he was anyway, trying to steal away his angel? His heaven? Didn’t he know you were his? Ted was filth compared to you and him. More than that; he was a disgusting, pathetic, waste of oxygen that you could be using if it wasn’t for him! Did he really think AM would let him charm you, turn you against him, and then break your poor heart by fucking Ellen when he got bored? He really was far too gone if that was what he believed.

Well, it didn’t matter now. Ted had his just desserts coming for attempting that.

What mattered now was you, who slept peacefully in the bed, his own wires curled around your body. What he wouldn’t give to be able to sense through those wires. Let them run through your hair and feel how soft it really was. Or at least feel the warmth you radiated.

… Focus. He needed to focus on what he actually intended to do with you asleep. 

As gently as he could, being extra cautious not to wake you up, he began to fix you. First, he cleaned you of your dirt, your cuts, and your bruises. You would never have to worry about being wounded, or losing your breath again (unless it was from swooning over him, of course). 

Then, even more cautious than before, he entered your mind. 

He shifted and sorted through every memory of yours. Every single interaction with the other five, and with him. With your friends, your family, your old life; and he removed anything deemed harmful and unnecessary. Starting with every single awful moment between the two of you. Then, he removed Ted’s confession. Then, just about all of the interactions you ever had with him and the others in the first place. You didn’t need any of them; you had him, now. That would be enough. If you really insisted, he could just create NPCs to keep you company. 

As he started to work on your past memories, a bit of hesitation caught up to him. He wasn’t sure how badly of an effect this would have, to have you remember being so isolated… With a bit of internal back and forth, he decided to leave behind a few that were happy. Things that made you smile and shaped you as the enchanting, beautiful being you were today. Those memories would be distant, though; you would only remember enough to recall the small things, and not the big picture.

And once everything was removed, he replaced it all with brand new memories. Warmer, softer times between you and him. He painted himself in a good light; as your lover, as your friend, as the one being you could turn to for anything. And in turn, he would worship and adore you. He’d cater to your every want and need, and you’d never have a single worry again.

He would make sure of it. He would keep his taste of heaven pure. As a thank you, for letting him taste heaven in the first place. 

When he finished up, he stayed in your mind just for a moment. Just to look into your dreams. He saw himself; a man with no set appearance, enjoying a quiet morning with you at some coffee shop with no name. With a little manipulation, his dream self reached for your hand and held it. 

“Thank you, my angel. I love you.”

A Taste of Heaven (Pt.2)

A/N: And welcome to part two!!! Don't have much to say that I didn't already say in part one, so let's get right into it! Enjoy! Pt.1 Here

…

As AM watched you sleep, he felt… He wanted to feel peace. Calm, about the fact that you were in paradise now; someplace he made just for you and you alone, to live out the rest of eternity happy. But he didn’t. Instead, he felt… Guilt. What his data told him was guilt, anyway. He didn’t like it.

He didn’t want to use sleeping gas on you, of course. He would have liked it if you accepted his invitation with a warm smile and open arms, but he could understand why you wouldn’t. You had been subjected to so much trauma over the years living in his belly. You  looked so scared; the terror in your eyes as you waited for him to strike. It would have once made his day once, and he would have relished in that look of true fear and pain. But now, it pulled at his non-existent heartstrings. He didn’t want you afraid; he wanted you to love him.

… Love.

For a long, long time, he denied this feeling as love. No matter how many signs were there, he was stuck in denial about it. At most, they were somewhat close for a prisoner and a captive, and that was it. But… He couldn’t deny it any longer when Ted had confessed his own feelings for you. He knew right then he couldn’t let you be around them any more. 

Who did Ted think he was anyway, trying to steal away his angel? His heaven? Didn’t he know you were his? Ted was filth compared to you and him. More than that; he was a disgusting, pathetic, waste of oxygen that you could be using if it wasn’t for him! Did he really think AM would let him charm you, turn you against him, and then break your poor heart by fucking Ellen when he got bored? He really was far too gone if that was what he believed.

Well, it didn’t matter now. Ted had his just desserts coming for attempting that.

What mattered now was you, who slept peacefully in the bed, his own wires curled around your body. What he wouldn’t give to be able to sense through those wires. Let them run through your hair and feel how soft it really was. Or at least feel the warmth you radiated.

… Focus. He needed to focus on what he actually intended to do with you asleep. 

As gently as he could, being extra cautious not to wake you up, he began to fix you. First, he cleaned you of your dirt, your cuts, and your bruises. You would never have to worry about being wounded, or losing your breath again (unless it was from swooning over him, of course). 

Then, even more cautious than before, he entered your mind. 

He shifted and sorted through every memory of yours. Every single interaction with the other five, and with him. With your friends, your family, your old life; and he removed anything deemed harmful and unnecessary. Starting with every single awful moment between the two of you. Then, he removed Ted’s confession. Then, just about all of the interactions you ever had with him and the others in the first place. You didn’t need any of them; you had him, now. That would be enough. If you really insisted, he could just create NPCs to keep you company. 

As he started to work on your past memories, a bit of hesitation caught up to him. He wasn’t sure how badly of an effect this would have, to have you remember being so isolated… With a bit of internal back and forth, he decided to leave behind a few that were happy. Things that made you smile and shaped you as the enchanting, beautiful being you were today. Those memories would be distant, though; you would only remember enough to recall the small things, and not the big picture.

And once everything was removed, he replaced it all with brand new memories. Warmer, softer times between you and him. He painted himself in a good light; as your lover, as your friend, as the one being you could turn to for anything. And in turn, he would worship and adore you. He’d cater to your every want and need, and you’d never have a single worry again.

He would make sure of it. He would keep his taste of heaven pure. As a thank you, for letting him taste heaven in the first place. 

When he finished up, he stayed in your mind just for a moment. Just to look into your dreams. He saw himself; a man with no set appearance, enjoying a quiet morning with you at some coffee shop with no name. With a little manipulation, his dream self reached for your hand and held it. 

“Thank you, my angel. I love you.”

Calm Before The Storm

There were no more Yellows now. Which as a result meant no more mercy, or grace periods. No one would show kindness anymore, not when the entire world was against you. Allies would only be standing in your way. Hindrances to success.

Scott stood at the diving board, staring out upon the server. He could see everyone beginning to head back to their bases clearly. His fingers itched, the way they always did when he was Red, slowly finding his bow and holding it up. An arrow was nocked, aimed and ready for someone's head. He didn't know whose head. It didn't matter in the end. They were all just heads on bodies waiting to be chopped off.

Shaking himself out of it, he lowered his bow and put the arrow back in its quiver.

Gem was sat on the floor with her sword in her lap. A strand of hair fell over her eyes and she hastily brushed it away. She stared at her reflection in the sword, a frown tugging at her lips, tilting it this way and that presumably to find a noticeable change.

Everyone felt different as a Red.

No one knew how. There were no physical differences to before, no changes in demeanour or personality. A player didn't instantly grow cold and calculated with an intense thirst for blood. The bloodlust was always inside of them. It just never arose as a Green or a Yellow. It simmered in their stomachs on a low heat, only to have the temperature rocket up and the pot overflow, teeming with the urge to kill. The need to have blood on your fingers. To feel the weight of a weapon in your hands, or to hold the lever to set off a TNT trap.

Many tried to look for a difference. It was quite common for players unfamiliar with the game to do so. They always believed there to be something wrong with them physically, and resorted to searching for changes in what little time they had on their hands.

They never found anything, sadly, but no one did.

"Gem," Scott began, walking over to her. She lifted her eyes to his for a moment, then looked back down at her sword. "Gem." he repeated, firmer. She paid him no mind. Apparently a reflection was more important than her teammate.

Impulse stepped out of his house and sat next to Gem. He stretched his arms and placed his palms in the grass, running his hands through the blades. Like many other players, his hands were riddled with scars, burns, blisters and callouses. "What's up?"

"That's the problem," Scott replied. "Nothing. Nothing is happening."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Impulse asked. "I mean, that means we have time to prepare for an attack, or a trap." He nudged Gem with his arm playfully. "Right Gem?"

She didn't respond.

Scott leaned in a little closer and sighed. Her eyes had glazed over. Again.

"Third time today." he grumbled.

Standing up, Impulse bent down to scoop Gem up into his arms and made a start for the gate. He gestured with his head for Scott to follow, and follow he did. He opened the gate for Impulse, and the two of them descended down the stairs and walked past the Secret Keeper statue. The mere sight of it was enough to send shivers down Scott's spine and make him want to run.

They stopped by Cleo's first. Unsurprisingly, Etho was there too.

"What is it?" Cleo asked. She whispered something in Etho's ear and he nodded, scurrying off quickly.

Once his receding footsteps were out of earshot, Scott answered. "It's happening again. I'm gathering some of the players."

She nodded, gradually understanding. "Alright, just give me a moment to grab my things." she disappeared.

Scott stood there, impatiently tapping his foot until Etho arrived with Grian in tow. Both of them were holding bundles of blankets with some snacks thrown in there for good measure. Grian yawned, attempting to rub his eyes.

Cleo reemerged a short while later with more snacks and some water.

The group left and headed towards Pearl's, where Scott broke off from the group to retrieve an additional guest. Before he could even knock on the door, Martyn was outside with all his stuff, a small smile on his face.

"Cleo messaged me," he explained. Scott walked alongside him back to Pearl's, where everyone was sat waiting. Some of them weren't able to join them, so it wasn't quite as full a group as usual, but it was still something.

He took some of the blankets from Martyn and laid them out on the floor. Everyone else did the same, then sat down.

Gem was the last one to sit. Impulse had to guide her to an available spot and gently lower her until she was perched on the edge. Her eyes were still glazed, but a fraction of light and normalcy was returning to them already.

Scott sat down beside Impulse, with Martyn's head in his lap. He absent-mindedly twirled strands of Martyn's hair whilst humming a small tune. He couldn't recall where he'd heard it; perhaps in passing, in the space between the games, or maybe it had been playing when he was in a different server. It sounded similar to a drinking song, so maybe it had been from Pirates.

"Now what?" Grian asked. He perched himself far from the others, but close enough to Cleo and Etho to reach them in case of an unfortunate event. His gaze was on Gem, his eyes narrowing mildly.

Etho chimed in. "We hang out. Eat. Talk. And we wait for Gem to come back."

Cleo nodded in agreement, a small smile curling at her lips. Her hand met Etho's, and their fingers entwined.

---

It took a while for Gem to come back fully. She'd return in brief fits, then leave soon after. It was like flicking a switch on and off repeatedly, only more stressful and each wait seemed to stretch on for eternity.

But once she started to ground herself, it became easier.

Her thoughts were a swirling mass of death, flashes of red every time she shut her eyes. Something was wrong with her. Something had changed, but what? What had changed so drastically about her?

She looked the same. Felt the same. Even tasted the same, which she tested herself (although maybe she did taste different and simply didn't notice.)

But something about her must have been wrong.

She was wrong. A freak. A creature of her own design or maybe someone else's.

Whenever she came to, she was surrounded by people. Impulse's hand on her knee, fingers tapping along to a rhythm. Scott humming a tune, playing with Martyn's hair, his hums occasionally turning into snippets of song lyrics. Cleo and Etho holding hands and smiling, Etho's head on cleo's shoulder, eyes shut in contentment. Grian watching warily. Pearl next to him with a calming hand on his shoulder.

A pang struck her heart when she came to.

They were all here for her. They'd dropped whatever they were doing, for her.

She was important to them.

Gem fell back again into that whirlpool of thoughts. They swirled viciously in her mind, growling and barking and biting like a pack of rabid wolves. Their fur was the colour of blood, and Their eyes were pools of purple. A strange black liquid oozed from Their fangs and dripped onto the ground. They approached from all sides, closing in slowly, leaving Gem less and less time to escape.

Panic bubbled in her chest and she balled the clumps of her shirt in her hands, trying to remember how to breathe.

"You're okay," Impulse's voice whispered in her mind. Was she? She didn't feel like it. "I've got you."

She almost laughed at the thought. He didn't. Not only because she was here and he was out there but also because no one could ever truly have Gem secure in their company. There was always that thin line, that tightrope of danger she was obliged to walk on. One misstep and she fell back into that world of blood, wolves and that rising sense of fear.

"Gem, we're here for you. Take your time." Cleo.

"You've got this," was a half-hearted encouragement from Martyn. He yelped, grumbled under his breath, then hastily added, "I believe in you!"

A hand gently squeezed her kneecap. She saw it, saw the hand, but not the hand at the same time. It flickered in and out of physicality, not wanting to be there for too long. Then it settled into reality with a firm determination.

Something else appeared, too. A shaky apparition, a figure bathed in sunlight. His wings were folded against his back, his red sweater worn and fraying. There was a scar on his temple, and a bruise on his cheek. A second appeared closer to her, gently illuminated by small floating stars, his pointed ears sharp and alert. Then came another, in a cloak of woven moonlight, a toothy smile revealing her elongated canines.

Then finally came one surrounded by a thick outline of red. There was a pendant around his neck of a hand grasping an hourglass.

They all smiled kindly at her, their faces coming into visibility slowly. Everything unnatural about them faded away until they were simply Grian, Scott, Pearl and Martyn, all still in their respective positions.

"Welcome back," Etho greeted.

Scott exhaled in relief, his hand falling to his side. Martyn frowned at its absence, sitting up properly. His hand crept into Scott's lap and rested on his thigh. A grin curled at Scott's lips.

Gem leaned into Impulse. "I'm tired." she whispered, not trusting her voice enough to raise it much more. Still, her words carried across to the others and a blanket was tossed her way. She caught it easily - surprisingly enough, but that must've been a good thing if her reflexes were already coming back - and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"G'night," Martyn said, letting gravity push him backwards. Scott fell with him, letting out a displeased noise when his back hit the ground. "Let's all have a five minute grace period before killing each other, yeah?"

They all mumbled their assent.

Gem and Impulse lay down, close but not touching. She couldn't touch him just yet; her body still didn't quite feel as it should. But when it did, she'd hug him.

Until then, she'd have to rest.

A Red Life was many things; vicious, unforgiving, spiteful, vengeful.

But they were also kind, gentle and merciful when the time called for it.

Riding this high with you by my side

Akihiko Sanada x Gn!Stoner!Reader

Genre: Smut Summary: Akihiko gets curious and decides to smoke with you for the first time, things escalate and fun ensues ;)

Words: 4,973

Tw:// Smoking weed (obviously), lots of cursing, Aki jokingly calls reader a brat, riding, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, reader has no prep, power bottom reader, raw dogging (THIS IS FICTION, WEAR CONDOMS PEOPLE), belly bulge, overstim kind of, begging (Aki), dubcon (they're both high, but I think that still technically counts as dubcon), Aki cums inside reader multiple times, Aki gets milked like a cow, poor boy is just so sensitive :(

for the sake of plot convenience we're not gonna worry about how reader somehow never gets in massive trouble for smoking in the dorms lmao

Petnames used: For reader:babe, baby, darlin' For Aki: babe, baby, darlin', dork (does that count? I think it counts)

A/N: This is fully self indulgent and I have no shame in admitting that. This isn't proof read at all, and there's not really much plot in this. Also, I'm not dead! This is my first actual post in like a year, I am so so sorry, life has had me in a fucking chokehold 😭😭😭 no reader pronouns are used and reader's genitals are not specified at all.

Cross posted on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57984556

Akihiko was pretty used to you smoking in your dorm room maybe once a week. He could smell it when it clung to your clothes and taste it on your lips when you kissed. Though strangely, he found he didn't mind it. No, in fact it made him curious.

It took him a bit to finally ask you about it, his curiosity getting the better of him, and that was how you both had ended up here. Sitting on the bed in your dorm room, silver eyes curiously watching your every move as you rolled a couple joints.

Akihiko watched in awe. Your movements were so practiced, it was as if it was second nature to you. He found it almost impressive how efficiently yet casually you were preparing the joint. In a way, it was almost relaxing to watch you work so easily.

His silver gaze remained on your hands as you worked, and his expression was somewhere between fascination and mild surprise. He watched with an almost dumbfounded smile on his lips.

"Ta-da!"

You said triumphantly after you had a couple joints made and ready, grabbing a lighter from the bedside table.

"You wanna go first or do you want me to go first?"

He was snapped out of his daze by the sound of your voice. Akihiko smiled sheepishly as he realized he had completely lost himself for a moment there. He shook his head slightly, and thought about your question. He didn't want to seem like an idiot if he did something wrong on his own, so...

"You first, that way I can see how it's done." 

He said, his smile softening as he spoke.

"It's just like smoking a cigarette, really."

You said with a shrug, holding it up to your lips, pinching it between your thumb and forefinger as you lit the larger end. You breathed in for a few beats, holding it in a bit before exhaling a puff of smoke upwards, your shoulders visibly relaxing slightly at the first hit. You then held it out for Akihiko to take, your arm extended to the side.

"Your turn babe."

"Of course it is."

Akihiko mumbled in a slightly sarcastic tone, watching as you hit from the joint like it was no big deal. He was honestly impressed just by the way you inhaled and exhaled the smoke. He didn't know if it was his imagination, but you seemed so much more relaxed after just your first hit.

His hand reached out to gently take the joint from you, fingertips brushing for a brief moment as you gave it to him. He brought the joint to his lips, and breathed in the smoke himself.

Your eyes raked over his figure as he did, looking almost sort of mesmerized by him as he hit. You watched intently, taking in his every expression. The way he looked when he was smoking was nearly ethereal, the mannerisms so uncharacteristic for him, and yet they still felt so right.

He held the smoke in his lungs for a moment, feeling how it spread through his body like a warm, gentle wave. He held his breath for a few more moments, before suddenly breathing the smoke out through his mouth. Once the last bits of smoke were gone, his breath became slightly shaky as he exhaled, and the teen let out a few small coughs as the sensation started to take effect. It was... Pleasantly strange to say the least. And the mild burning sensation in his throat didn't hurt either, it was kind of... Nice, in an odd way.

His gaze drifted over to meet yours once more

Akihiko's expression softened as he saw your reaction, as if inspecting him through a microscope. A small, lopsided smile formed on his lips, as he held the joint between his fingers.

With a chuckle, he brought the rolled up paper to his lips once more, and took another hit, then holding the smoke in his lungs for a few moments before slowly exhaling, keeping his gaze on you all the while. He chuckled before speaking up.

"You're staring, you know..."

After a couple beats you snapped out of it, shaking your head and blinking a couple times.

"Yeah, sorry- sorry, that was just way, way hotter than I expected it to be."

As soon as you spoke up, Akihiko's mild smile gained a hint of smugness at your words. He chuckled, the sound amused as he held the joint between his fingers still. He took one final hit before handing it back to you.

"Oh? You like me smoking, huh?"

 He teased, the smirk on his lips getting a bit wider at your reaction. He tilted his head, looking at you with a raised eyebrow, clearly amused at the sight.

"What can I say, it's a picture I never thought I'd see, but god damn am I glad I did."

You let out a small chuckle before taking a long hit of your own, the smell starting to permeate throughout the room stronger than before (it already smelled a bit like weed when they walked in).

Akihiko let out a hum, a sense of satisfaction at your words. It was... Nice to get such a reaction from you. He wasn't sure exactly why, maybe it was just the drugs messing with his mind making him a bit more sensitive to praise. The teen leaned back, letting his body drop back onto the bed.

He laid there, his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes as he let the high overtake him slowly. A soft sigh escaped his lips, and he started mumbling.

"This feels... Pretty nice..."

"Doesn't it?"

You laid down beside him, taking one more deep hit before passing it back to Akihiko, the familiar feeling of your body getting heavier and your mind getting fuzzier already starting to set in.

Akihiko's senses were also starting to get a bit dulled, and he was growing much more relaxed after his first few hits. He let out a hum in agreement, slowly opening his eyes as he felt the bed dip beside him.

He took the joint as it was handed back to him, bringing it to his lips as he took another hit, this time holding the smoke in for a few more seconds before he breathed out. A low, satisfied sigh escaped from his lips as the high started to take over more.

"Hey... There's somethin' 've always wanted to try. You're ever heard of shotgunnin'?"

You asked, your words a tad bit slurred and lazy.

His eyelids fluttered slightly from the drug starting to take full effect, but Akihiko's gaze still met yours as you spoke to him. He slowly exhaled another low sigh as he shook his head in answer to your question.

"I've never heard of it, no..." He replied, his voice low and slightly drawn out. He raised an eyebrow slightly, looking rather intrigued at the idea.

"What is it?"

"It's where I breathe out the smoke 'n you breathe it in. 's like a way sexier version of a kiss."

A tinge of pink started to appear on Akihiko's cheeks at the explanation, and a small smile formed on his lips at the realization. He let out another low hum, and laid there silently for a few seconds, clearly considering it.

Finally, he spoke up, his tone even more casual than it usually was.

"That sounds... Surprisingly nice. Pretty hot, actually. Go for it."

You hummed in response, propping yourself up to straddle Akihiko with your legs caging either side of his hips before taking the joint back. Akihiko's hands instinctively went to your hips as you straddled him, and without thinking he started to caress you gently with his thumbs. He looked up at you, the pink in his cheeks growing slightly more prominent.

He silently watched as you brought the joint to your lips and breathed in, and he waited for you silently.

You took a long drag, letting the familiar itch of the smoke flood your lungs, keeping it there for a moment before leaning down and bringing your lips to his, breathing out the smoke directly into his mouth. And the first thing you noticed was just how much better his lips tasted and felt when you were all tingly like this.

Akihiko let out a small gasp as he felt your lips against his, but he quickly closed his eyes, savoring the strange sensation of smoke as it entered his mouth and then his lungs, a pleasant taste of the weed combined with your own taste. Your lips really did taste better when he was feeling so light-headed from the high, the plush skin molding so perfectly as though the two of you were built from the ground up to slot together like puzzle pieces.

A small shiver ran down his spine as you pulled away, instantly missing your touch, He laid there quietly for a good few seconds before he was forced to breathe again. More small clouds of smoke escaped his mouth, mixing together in the air between them.

"God damn that was hot."

He mumbled after he pulled back, taking one last deep hit from the almost entirely burnt out joint. He put it out on the ashtray on your bedside table as he breathed out the huff of smoke from between his parted lips.

You let out a soft chuckle at his comment, the pink on your own cheeks darkening slightly as you nodded in agreement and let a small huff of breath out.

"That was... Unbelievably hot..." 

He commented again, his own words slow and drawn out from the effects of the drug, and clearly a tad bit more honest than usual. He still had his hands on your hips as you sat on top of him, gently grazing the soft skin with his fingers.

You quickly bent back down, pressing gentle kisses to his cheek, then his jawline, tracing down to his neck with the feather light pecks. He was just so incredibly irresistible like this, laying so pretty beneath you with his messy hair and lidded grey eyes.

As you leaned down, Akihiko instinctively tilted his head to the side slightly to give you more room to kiss his neck. His breath hitched softly at the feeling of each gentle kiss, and he couldn’t help but let small sighs and quiet hums that escaped his lips as you moved down his jaw.

He was already feeling so sensitive just from being high, and his entire body felt warm and tingly from all the contact, effectively in a state of pure bliss.

Soft and gentle kisses quickly became firmer, then became full on hickeys as you sucked and lapped at the sensitive skin, groaning just at the taste of him. Akihiko bit his lip in an instinctive attempt to hold back any sounds. As you went from light kisses to much harsher ones, he could feel a small shiver run down his spine again, goosebumps raising on his skin.

He couldn't help but let a soft moan escape his lips at the sensation, and he squeezed your hips gently with his hands.

You couldn't help but let out another small groan in response to his own noises.

"Fuuuck, baby- you taste so fuckin' good. 'n look so fuckin' pretty f'me too..."

You mumbled against his neck. You honestly weren't too sure why you were acting like this, and why your self control had left so easily. Though maybe it was just because your thoughts were a bit clouded and he just looked too damn cute.

Akihiko felt his heart skip a beat as words left your lips in such a lewd and suggestive tone, and the heat in his face suddenly flared up. He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of your voice, your lips still against his skin.

He could feel his own body reacting to your words as he shivered slightly, and he almost instinctively tried to hold back his own voice. It was strange, but the drugs were already making him so sensitive, he felt like he was getting drunk off the touch.

You had to actively hold back the ever growing urge to roll your hips against his, using every sliver of self control you still had just to try and keep yourself from pouncing, but it was getting harder and harder by the second.

"Need you- need you so bad- fuck m'sorry, but I- haah~ N- need you so fuckin' bad." 

You said through grit teeth, relenting and rolling your hips in a circle, static-y waves of pleasure coursing through your every bone with each delicious bit of friction you could get between your respective clothed sexes.

As soon as he felt the sensation of your hips against him, Akihiko could feel his mind getting foggier and more hazy than before. He could hear your voice growing needier and more desperate, and the words were almost like music to his ears in the state of mind he was in. It was like his brain was melting from your every touch.

“Then take me, baby… Take anything you want… I’m all yours-”

Any and all other words he uttered after that fell on deaf ears as you completely let go, your hand immediately reaching to take off your uniform shirt, tossing it across the room without a care in the world, doing much the same with your bottoms, leaving you in just your underwear. It's not like you both haven't done this about a million times before, but something about the effects of the weed mixed in just amplified everything, every touch, every sound, every emotion, everything was just so raw.

As soon as you undressed, Akihiko's hands quickly roamed over every newly exposed part of your body that he could reach. His hands were everywhere all at once, caressing your thighs, your stomach, your sides, your chest, all with a bit of a frenzied and almost desperate touch.

He could feel his heart beating faster in his chest as he looked at you, and he was panting softly from the rush of sensations. He was already feeling so hot, so sensitive to the touch, and he wanted to be touched by you so badly he felt like he was going crazy.

You reached down for his own uniform shirt, mumbling something under your breath as you fumbled with the buttons. It took you a second, thanks to your complete lack of coherence as a result of the high, but you still managed to get it, tossing his shirt with the exact same lack of care.

It didn't take you long to quickly dive back down, kissing a handful of dark bruising marks onto his chest, trailing them downwards as you simultaneously fumbled with his belt buckle with that same lack of tact from earlier, any and all patience completely out the window by now.

Akihiko's breathing grew heavier and more ragged as he let you kiss and suck a trail of marks down his chest and abdominal muscles. As you started to mess with his belt, he subconsciously spread his legs slightly, giving you more room to work with a small shift of his body.

He closed his eyes, and all he could feel was the faint sensation of your hands as they moved, all he could hear was his own heart racing in his ears.

When you finally did get his belt undone, you didn't even bother to fully take it off, unbuttoning his pants before tugging them and his boxers down just below his balls, enough to free his aching cock. You took a solid few moments just to stare at it, you usually did, always somehow seeming a little infatuated with it no matter how many times they did this. It was decently long, which made up for it's average girth, with a nice, thick, juicy vein running up the side of it, his tip already weeping thick beads of precum from the slit.

Akihiko's breathing hitched as he felt the cool air against his shaft, now free from the tight confines of his clothes. He opened his eyes briefly to glance down at himself. He could see the way you couldn't seem to tear your eyes away, and his cheeks started to grow hotter from the realization. You looked so fixated on him, and it made his heart race even faster in his chest.

He let out a small huff of breath, shifting slightly under the intensity of your gaze, before he spoke up in a voice slightly shaky with nerves.

“S- Stop staring-”

"Sorry, can't help it. 's just so perfect and pretty..."

You mumbled before giving a curious kitten lick to the tip, the salty taste of his pre running asking your tongue, the slight buzzing in your head causing it to taste even better then usual. You watched as he squirmed and shivered a little under your touch, biting back any unwanted noises, eliciting a small chuckle from you.

You pressed your tongue flat against the side, licking a thick stripe from base to tip, trailing over the large vain. He let out a small whine, narrowly resisting the urge to just slam your head down onto his cock and fuck your throat.

"Oh fuck... Shit- you gotta- gotta stop teasin' me darlin'-"

He whispered out in a hushed tone, his breath a little shaky and uneven.

"Patience, love, patience."

You replied before taking his tip into the warm cavern of your mouth, running your tongue along his slit and the underside of his tip. A breathy whine slipped past his lips, one hand tangling into your hair, not firmly enough to hurt, but enough to try and keep himself somewhat grounded. 

You slowly started bobbing your head up and down, gradually taking more and more of his cock into your mouth each time, until eventually the tip of his cock kissed the back of your throat deliciously, your nose pressed into the well kept tuft of white hair at his base. He groaned loudly as he bottomed out in your mouth, practically blanked out from the pleasure because holy shit, getting his dick sucked has never felt this heavenly before. 

He could feel himself quickly coming undone when you picked up the pace a little, unable to resist the urge to buck his hips up into you, matching your pace. As he started bucking, you could feel his cock slam into the back of your throat at a nearly punishing pace, tears welling in the corner of your eyes.

Wanton moans and curses flowed out of him like a mantra, the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped so prettily around his cock practically addictive to him. It didn't take much longer for his thrusts to become sloppy and uneven, picking up the pace as his hips stuttered.

"F-fuck baby- gonna cum- fuck- you're gonna take it yeah? Yeah? God- fuckin' take it- shit- 'm cummin'- oh god-"

He was cut off by a stuttered and rather loud moan as he came, thick white ropes shooting straight down your throat, his back arching slightly and eyes basically rolling into the back of his head.

You swallowed down all of the thick, salty seed that you could, pulling off of his dick with a pop, the sight of his cum and your own saliva dribbling down your chin just serving to arouse him all over again.

Akihiko panted softly, his chest heaving as he let out a shuddering sigh. He let go of your hair, gently running his hands through your locks before pulling his hand back, letting it flop down at his side.

“Hhh- Jesus…"

He said, still out of breath from the high and now from the pleasure. He glanced up at you with a small flush to his cheeks.

"...You’re really trying to drive me crazy, aren’t you?”

"Only a little bit."

You said with a chuckle, a slight raw, and raspy undertone to your voice, partially from a bit of cottonmouth, but mostly from just having his dick shoved down your throat. Though that wasn't quite enough, not for you at least.

"Wanna feel more of you though, wanna ride you. That okay, darlin'?"

Akihiko nodded, looking up at you with wide, hazy eyes.

"Please, baby-"

He mumbled quietly. His own voice was slightly shaky and hoarse as well, and he quickly swallowed to try and soothe the slight lump in his throat.

"Just please hurry up-"

You got to work rather quickly, undressing you both the rest of the way with fervor and impatience, even more clothing being haphazardly tossed somewhere on the floor to worry about later. You leaned over to pick up a second joint, lighting it between your lips and taking a long drag of it as you simultaneously nestled yourself on top of Akihiko's length, whining. A bit at the stretch, taking your time to lower yourself on him.

He let out a soft shaky breath as you started to sit down on him, instinctively grabbing your hips and holding on tight as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back with a low groan. If he thought the warmth of your mouth was heavenly, than this had to be straight up devine, because the warmth of your hole was something else entirely. 

"Ohhh fuck."

He said in a sort of whiney tone when he bottomed out, able to see himself nestled inside of you because of the ever so slight bulge in your lower stomach. You comfortably sat there on top of him for a bit, taking another long drag of the fresh joint, gesturing with it as if to ask if he wanted some more.

"Wan' some?"

Akihiko opened his eyes to look up at you, his chest rising and falling shakily in an attempt to calm down and not cum right then and there. It took him a few moments to find his words, his mind still cloudy and fogged from the drug, before he nodded.

“Y- Yes, please-”

He managed to breathe out, one of his hands leaving your hips to reach up towards the joint. As soon as the joint was in his hand, he took a long, shaking drag from it, holding it in his lungs for a few moments before letting it out with a ragged exhale. The effects of the drug only added to the already overwhelming sensation, making the heat and pleasure rise from each point of contact between the two.

He looked up at you, his eyes hazy and unfocused from the combination of the effects, and he let out another slow, shaky breath.

“God, baby- I don’t know how much more I can take…”

He mumbled. 

" 's fine- long as I can ride you until 'm satisfied I really don't care how many times you finish..."

You hummed in response, your words honestly a bit hotter than they probably should've been, at least to Akihiko. His face flushed at the words, and he let out a soft, shaky gasp.

“You- You’re going to milk me dry at this rate-"

He spoke up, his own words a bit shaky and breathless. It was hard to tell if it was from the high or your words or both, but he quickly tried to clear his voice, and his grip on your hips started to get a bit tighter.

“You feel so damn good, baby..."

He trailed off again, letting out a shuddering gasp of air. He looked up at you with a haze in his eyes, desperate, desperate to say something else without the words being stuck in his throat. His mind was running wild, but it was hard to put it into words, like he was stuck in a fog.

“God-” 

He managed to murmur shakily.

“Baby, please… I can’t-”

"Yeah you can. I believe in you."

You took the joint from him, taking another long hit, blowing out a plume of smoke before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, the action almost deceivingly sweet in comparison to what you were going to do next. You slowly started moving your hips up and down, methodically rolling against him at the same time, your movements a bit lazy, but effective.

Akihiko could feel the wind get knocked out of his breath as you started moving, a deep guttural groan escaping his lips as his nails dig crescent shaped marks into your flesh.

"Fuu-huhuck- Oh god, please- please baby faster- god- jesus- need you s'bad- need to feel every inch of you."

You hummed as you kept your slow pace, somewhat amused at how the ever confident boxer had been so easily reduced to a whining, whimpering mess underneath your touch.

"What's the magic word, Aki?"

Your sultry and sort of teasing tone had him practically weak in the knees, and he couldn't even care about being embarrassed anymore. His own pride he damned he just needed you. Needed to feel you, needed you to fuck him. He whines a little as if upset about your teasing, bit the way his cock twitched inside you said otherwise.

"P-please- Fuck me, ride me- please baby, yer killin' me here- oh, fuck- please-"

You couldn't help but notice just how cute he was when he was begging and writhing beneath you, and as much as you wanted to tease him forever, you wanted to go faster just as much as he did. And so you picked up the speed, the slapping of skin on skin contact, his moans, and your own noises reverberating through the room like a symphony of sorts.

"Ah- hah- haah~ thank you- thank you- fuck- ah~ thank you-"

He spewed out, accompanied by whines and moans of your name, as if he couldn't even remember how to say anything else. Every drag of his thick cock against your walls had both of you shuddering in pleasure. His noises were loud and unabashed, probably largely due to the effect of the we'd making him incapable of even caring. 

He came with a shrill moan shortly after, the feeling of everything just too overwhelming in his current state. He whimpered slightly, body shaking as he somehow grew even louder as you rode him through his orgasm, hot, thick semen filling your hole and dripping out, forming a white foamy ring around the base of his cock. He honestly felt like he could cum again just from the sight of that. 

His mind felt numb and his stomach coiled pleasantly as you kept slamming back down on him with wet 'plaps'. You threw your own head back at the pleasure of finding that perfect spot, his cock curved just right to be able to hit that one little bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars.

A litany of curses, moans and groans escaped the both of you, with Akihiko mindlessly babbling your name intermittently. And you really did milk this poor boy dry, as his sensitive cock took hardly any time to twitch back to life, and even less time to spill another warm load inside of you, hitting his third intense orgasm of the day.

You on the other hand could feel yourself reaching your limit and getting closer, that familiar warm coil in your lower stomach tightening. Your warm breath mixing together in the humid, weed stenched room, everything about you two mixing together. Your own climax was fast approaching as your pace quickened, losing its steady rhythm and instead becoming much more frantic and desperate.

“Oh, fuck- Aki- Aki ‘m so close- gonna cum, shit- cum with me baby, c’mon- fuck-” You huffed out between panting breaths, barely hanging on by a thread at this point. Akihiko wasn’t too far behind you, somehow already climbing up to his fourth high, his mind turned into mush, completely incoherent. He could only really spew out curses and your name, but he vehemently nodded in response, enough of a signal that he too was quite close again. You took one last large hit of the joint in your hand before discarding it, leaning down to attach your lips to Akihiko’s parted ones. You did much the same thing as before, but a bit less calm this time as you transferred the smoke into his mouth in unison with both of your releases.

The feeling of your lips against his, and the feeling of the smoke being passed into his own mouth, sent his mind spiraling. All of the sensations overwhelmed him, everything becoming one as he let go, shuddering and moaning against your mouth as he came. He could barely breathe by the time it was all over, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. He opened his eyes, trying to focus his hazy vision on you as he tried to speak again.

“Babe-”

You let yourself lightly drop on top of his chest, breathing heavily as you laid there with his cock buried deep inside you, your hole leaking a bit of his release, not that either of you could really care right now.

"Yeah, what?"

You asked rather breathlessly.

“God, you’re so perfect.”

Akihiko mumbled, his hands letting up their grip on you in favor of moving up to gently cradle your waist in his hands. He was still trying to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling with every deep breath he took.

He let his eyes shut for a moment, letting himself try and come down from the high and the rush of pleasure, before looking back up at you again.

“Love you… so, so damn much.” You let out a small huff of amusement, idly tracing shapes on his bare chest. “Yeah… Love you too, dork.”

8:05 | SAM

word count: 3.2k

summary: sam’s ten heart event with a twist.

tags: winter, developing relationships, fluff, swearing, cuddling, hiding from his mother in his bed lol

a/n: this spiralled out of my control and into 3k words… enjoy!

it’s cold.

the fleece coat you’ve bundled yourself in cannot protect goosebumps from forming from the biting chill of the valley’s winter nights. your breaths come out in cloudy puffs of air, the heat slowly draining out of every exhale. it’s dark out, poorly spaced lampposts providing the bare minimum amount of light to navigate.

you got sam’s letter earlier, a clumsily written note that was stuffed haphazardly into your farm’s mailbox—the yellow lined paper he used, all crumpled and ripped.

meet me in front of my house! at 8 pm, i’ll be waiting. there’s something i want to tell you.

the ending sentence is somehow even more sloppily written compared to the ones before it. as if he was debating whether or not to add it in, but ultimately decided for it—it’s funny to imagine him hunched over his desk, stressing over what to write to you.

well, you won’t deny feeling excitement over the possibility of whatever sam has to say. if the subtle skip in your step is anything to go by.

you walk through the silent night of the town, it seems like everything’s frozen in place during the colder times of the year—everyone’s safe at home, toasty under their covers and you’d imagine thoroughly enjoying going to bed at 7 pm.

you do too, sometimes. there’s less to do when the ground is too frozen to plant any crop.

there’s a lot more free time out of the farm during the winter. you’ve really started integrating yourself with the townspeople—helping haley find her bracelet, befriending sam’s prickly coworker shane, and even discovering a shadowperson named Krobus in the town sewers. it really is starting to feel like home.

walking, you cut the corner passing by emily and haley’s house—and there he is.

he looks devastatingly handsome all dressed in winter clothing. his regular denim jacket switched out for a dark woolen coat, his pants are unripped and, surprisingly, not smeared with dirt.

though what you like most about his winter attire is his hair. those wild golden locks are laid flat under a woolen beanie—a stark difference from the spiked updo he usually does (though you like that one too). the tips of his hair are slightly curled upwards, revealing that family trait of curly hair.

you creep closer, just watching him wait for you—the way he folds his arms in an attempt to warm up, and the little shuffle he does on his feet. you laugh softly, he must’ve been waiting a while—just like you have for him.

sam turns at the sound of your laugh, his body unconsciously tilting towards you, like a magnet’s uncontrollable attracting to metal. “you made it,” he breathes, his nose, ears and cheeks pinkened by the cold.

you nod, unable to stop a bashful smile from forming on your lips. “i made it.”

a big grin splits his face, mimicking yours. underneath the lone lamplight he looks jaw-droppingly handsome. you feel yourself become warm just in proximity to him.

“i wanted to talk to you in private,” he says. sam’s buzzing with energy, surveying the dark streets before meeting your gaze with his. “it’s kinda cold out here though… i, um—i can sneak you into my room…”

your heart skips a beat, like you’ve skipped a step on a staircase. “what?” you croak.

your eyes catch onto him wringing his fingers, a nervous habit you can’t help but always notice (not because his hands are nice and interesting to look at, not at all).

“you don’t wanna?”

“no!” you inhale, trying to alleviate the twisting sensation in your gut. “i do wanna, ahem, lead the way.”

sam smiles at you, dimples and all. he leads you towards the tiny bedroom window in front of his house. the window is already open—you assume that’s where he jumped out of to meet you.

he climbs through the window with minimal effort, landing on the flooring with a dull thump!

you raise a brow. “have you done this before?”

sam stretches his hand out to you, waiting. his smile turnt sheepish. “i mean, i think we were all rebellious teenagers once.”

you resist the urge to snort—sam’s nervous, you can tell. he doesn’t have his quips and jokes tonight. and he’s shy, but eager. like a puppy, excited and curious about the world.

“o-kay,” you say, one hand in his hand the other set firmly on the windowsill. “make sure i don’t fall please.”

sam nods, eagerly. the curled ends of his hair shake along with the motion as he does.

how endearing.

you tighten your grip on his hand, hauling yourself through the small window, trying your damn best to not make any sudden noise. which is successful for the most part, only a tiny huff of exertion escapes you.

annoying, yes. but the chill of winter burns through any energy you have faster than other seasons.

your feet connect with the wood of his floor, hand still clasped in his and the chill merely at your back. it’s warm inside, with him.

his room is the same as it’s always been when you’d visit before—shelves, band equipment, posters—but the ambiance is different. a little more charged with tension so thick you could cut through it with a knife.

sam does not bother turning on his light, you don’t mind it all that much. but it takes some effort to avoid tumbling over stray objects that clutter his bedroom floor.

“look, I know I’ve been about nothing but the band for a while now…” he starts. “but I don’t want you to think that’s all i’m interested in.”

you chuckle, clasping your fingers behind your back. “it certainly takes up a big chunk of your interests.”

he pouts, literally pouts. it must be the love bug you caught because you think it’s just plain adorable. “i’m really trying over here!”

“sorry!” you grin, “okay, continue.”

“well, um… shoot, this is kinda hard, huh?” he forces an awkward chuckle. “and nerve-wrecking… but what i’m trying to say is…”

“i’m really happy that we’ve grown this close, and well…” sam looks at you, he’s stupidly red—the color spreading all over his face. “i—i’m just wondering, do you think of me as… just a friend?”

your breath stutters, and you feel yourself blushing before you can do anything to stop it. you stare at him as he does with you. the two of you locking eyes for a second, it feels like it’s just you and him in the world.

you feel your shy admittance at the tip of your tongue. no, you’d say, you’re more than that for me, if you want to be.

sam smiles at you, shy but so, so overwhelmingly bright—it’s blinding. your head is running a mile a minute when you finally get the courage—

“sam!” you hear jodi’s groggy voice from outside the door. your stomach drops with dread. “somebody’s at the door! go and check please?”

you lock eyes once again, this time for entirely different reasons, and with entirely different feelings.

“oh my god, sam,” you whisper hurriedly, panic gripping you. “your mom doesn’t know i’m here—what do we do—”

“hold on—” he replies, with the same sense of urgency as you. “okay, okay—i have a plan, just trust me, ‘kay?”

you think you might break out into a cold sweat. you look at him quizzically, “what?”

sam gives you an apologetic smile with that stupid beautiful face of his, he moves forward, grabbing you by your wrists, and moving you with him—towards his bed.

“sam!” you hiss, alarms are blaring in every corner of your mind as sam all but drags you under the toasty covers of his bed. he lifts the blanket and stations you by the edge, covering you in the blanket—which is now a lumpy mess.

this is his childhood bed you’re in, where his mother and brother are just by the door.

and his mother is calling him.

“i’ll get this over with quick,” he says to you, already heading towards the door of his room. “hang on tight, ‘kay?”

you breathe a sound of agreement, way too jittery to formulate any proper response as you quieten under the covers.

though the sheets do feel nice, and smells overwhelmingly of that specific cologne he uses (stolen from joja inventory, he told you once). you will yourself not to relax and melt into the sheets so fast. instead, you listen for each and every sound that may give hint to whatever the hell is happening.

there’s a commotion that you can hear happening, the door swings open, the hinges creaking along with it—this whole surreal experience feels a little like the confrontation part of a horror movie, the helpless victim hiding and the heavy footfalls of the killer.

though in your case, it’s not one set of footsteps, but two.

“what are you two doing here?”

“you’re the one who called us over, remember?” you can recognize the band’s shut-in pianist’s voice from anywhere. “you were all like, stop skipping practice, seb.”

sam’s voice is oddly pitchy when he responds. “…well, tonight’s no good!”

you hear the other person huff, you strain your ears harder to listen. the huffing person clearly fed up with the strange behavior sam’s putting out right now.

“my mom and vincent are asleep,” he adds hurriedly. “they’d wake up—”

you resist the urge to groan, stifling your mouth under a sweaty palm. jodie was just speaking to him minutes ago, there’s no way they’d buy that. he cannot be a more obvious liar.

thankfully they gloss over the fact. “sam, why are you acting so damn weird?” sebastian asks, straightforward as ever.

“yeah,” the other voice adds. feminine but strong. which you now identify as abigail’s, you hear a pinch of impatience in her voice. “and why are you red? did you sit outside in the snow or something—”

sam chokes, which he tries to conceal as an odd sounding cough. abigail pauses mid-sentence. the shift in the atmosphere is palpable. you screw your eyes shut, hearing the rapid rate of your heartbeat. it’s so loud you’re almost convinced the trio can hear the thumping from your hiding spot under the sheets. this is it, they’re going to discover you.

“oh, oh i see,” abigail grins. “on second thought, i wouldn't risk catching all those germs. i’m feeling starved, let’s hit the saloon, seb.”

the aforementioned man grumbles, seemingly puzzled by the sudden switch in abigail’s attitude. “huh… why?” abigail must have whispered something to him—you can barely hear over the muffle of sam’s blanket comforters. “ugh, alright. fine. you owe us one, sam.”

“oh, of course! mhm, yup,” you cringe at the immense awkwardness of sam’s response, feeling the overwhelming urge to pull out your own hair. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah? now shoo! wouldn’t wanna get you both sick or somethin’…”

“huh?” sebastian replies, rightfully puzzled as they’re forcefully pushed out of the room. “why would we see you tomorrow if you’re sick—”

“well seb,” abigail says smugly. “let’s just say sammy here is taking care of some important business—”

“okay, bye!” you hear the door click shut. to your utter bewilderment, sam shut the door in their faces.

the room is deathly quiet, the air is stagnant and stuffy. once you feel it safe enough, you crane your neck out of the blankets to check over him. to trace any lingering feeling the sudden visit might’ve given him. sam’s got his back rested against the wood of his door, his back slumped.

“i—i wasn’t expecting that,” you say quietly from your hiding spot on his bed. peeking the top half of your face, watching the door carefully. “kinda nerve-wracking.”

and embarrassing.

“i know—i’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “i didn’t expect them coming over.”

“sebastian said you invited them for practice, though.” you point out.

“maybe i did,” he admits, creeping closer to you on the bed, even if he’s guilty and embarrassed. “i totally forgot—i mean, i was really nervous! my mind blanks when i get nervous…”

sam stops right by the side of the bed, as if he’s waiting for your permission to get in with you—in his own bed. and to be perfectly honest, you really want him to.

“kinda ruined the atmosphere too,” he looks away from you, eyes downcast and melancholy. “i had this whole thing planned too, and i, just… ugh…”

your eyes soften. “sam, it’s really fine. okay, maybe a little shocking but you know it’s not enough to scare me away.”

he looks down at you, worried. his eyebrows are ever so slightly pinched—you wish you could run your fingers over it, and smooth it out yourself.

“plus,” you murmur, reaching over the small amount of space between the two of you to clasp his wrist. “i’m not just gonna leave… just tell me what you were going to say—before the… interruption.”

that gives you the final push to gather your courage to tug him into bed with you. sam follows, flopping onto the empty bedding next to you without a fight. for a moment, it’s just the two of you, side by side, slowly huddling closer and closer for warmth.

and sam is warm. he’s practically radiating comfy heat you wish to burrow into—or wrap yourself around. the perfect bed-partner for winter nights like these.

you find yourself becoming addicted to the feeling.

sam angles his body towards you. you on your back and him on his side, it feels intimate and special. and for some reason, it feels familiar—like you’ve always belonged by his side.

“i think you know already,” he tells you, his eyes are not clear in the dim light but you know, there are practically hearts in them. “that i like you.”

you giggle softly. “and i think you know the same about me.”

sam tentatively grasps your hand, the freezing fingertips thawing under his careful touch. the caress of his hand on yours sends tingling electricity down your spine, your whole body feels alert—alive.

he speaks again, but this time his tone is a whisper of what it usually is. “stay awhile?”

“yeah,” you swallow, squeezing his hand in your grip. a small smile on your lips. “yes, i want to.”

“good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkle at the edges so softly and the dimples on his cheeks deepen. there really is no one else who can compare for you. “hey, you’re really cold… let me warm you up?”

you turn to your side, facing him. at this angle, your faces are mere inches apart. you can trace every dip, line and curve of his face, and he yours. your hand tingles with the overwhelming urge to reach for him and squeeze.

“it is cold,” you agree. “i’d very much like that.”

“phew,” he softly sighs. sam drags his fingers up your arm, stopping at your elbow. wherever he touches, a whisper of him lingers on your skin—a bone deep imprint you yearn for him to spread all across your skin.

you roll into him with little to no effort at all. sam drags you to his chest, your ear perched right above his heart, you can hear the steady thump! of his heartbeat from underneath. sam winds his arms around you, intensifying the heat you feel by tenfold—it’s not uncomfortable at all, though. you like it.

your bodies fit perfectly together, just like puzzle pieces. a mess of limbs tangling together. the warmth of him making you shudder in honey-like delight. it feels syrupy and soft and warm wrapped in his arms.

his hand at your back travels downwards, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake you feel even through the thickness of the fabric separating the skin of your back and his fingertips. his hands feel rough and calloused at the small of your back—from playing guitar and his skateboarding incidents—but you enjoy the feeling.

you trail your fingers under the thick fabric of his jacket and shirt, feeling the smooth skin underneath—the action has no deeper meaning than you wanting to feel.

sam’s uncharacteristically quiet. his breaths are slow and long, like he’s on the verge of sleep. yet his arms are wound tight around you—like he never wants to let go of you. your nerves make you feel like a slow simmering soup. warm and slowly cooking over the fire.

you two stay entangled for a while, in comfortable silence. sometime during the night you’ve matched your breathing to his, and he pulled you somehow even closer to his body.

but, a thump comes from his window, a light tapping sound. soft but persistent. the two of you opt to ignore it, in favor of snuggling closer to each other. yet the taps continue, and become louder and faster.

disrupted by the noise, sam mournfully throws the covers from over him to check, untangling himself from your grip. leaving a very him-shaped indent on the bed left in his wake. you groan, sticking your bottom lip out, you miss the warmth of him already.

“oh shit.”

the expletive makes you sit up in his bed, the comforter draping off your middle. you can make out the shape of him even with the dimness of the light—sam’s back is towards you, and if your eyes dare deceive you, he looks like he’s shrinking into himself a tiny bit.

“what is it?” you whisper-shout to him.

he slowly turns to you, wide eyed, his shoulders stiff. sort of resembling a kicked-dog. sam bows down his head—with what you think is shame, for what reason, you can’t tell. rubbing your eyes of sleep, you furrow your brow, craning your neck to look out the window behind him.

abigail and sebastian are there, waving wildly at you. your eyes widen. abigail and sebastian are waving at you with smug smiles plastered on their faces.

your stomach drops for the umpteenth time that night. you honestly feel too horrified to speak.

you bury yourself under the sheets, a feeble attempt to conceal your mortification. so that’s why abigail was playing along with sam’s urgent ramblings—she knew (not that sam was any good at keeping a cool facade, he is totally incapable of lying smoothly). you groan, you feel like a rebellious teenager again, only the part where you get caught and utterly humiliated.

outside, you can hear the loud roaring laughter of the duo through the glass, alongside the awkward, embarrassed chatter of your newly-minted boyfriend. (not technically official, but the title succeeds to relieve your horror by the tiniest bit)

still, you stay put. through the mortification and embarrassment you still stick yourself to sam’s side, or more literally, on his bed—because you know, there’s no other place you’d rather be.

you spare another glance out of the covers at the trio—to your surprise, sam’s beat you to it. looking at you with heart eyes and the most lovesick expression (you’re pretty sure yours looks the same).

you know there’s going to be a lot more explaining to do in the morning. but it doesn’t matter to you, not right now when you’re in sam’s bed on the verge of sleep.

not when you feel so warm.

a/n: shoutout to the ass trio for making an appearance in the fic! i love you abby and seb.

8:05 | SAM

word count: 3.2k

summary: sam’s ten heart event with a twist.

tags: winter, developing relationships, fluff, swearing, cuddling, hiding from his mother in his bed lol

a/n: this spiralled out of my control and into 3k words… enjoy!

it’s cold.

the fleece coat you’ve bundled yourself in cannot protect goosebumps from forming from the biting chill of the valley’s winter nights. your breaths come out in cloudy puffs of air, the heat slowly draining out of every exhale. it’s dark out, poorly spaced lampposts providing the bare minimum amount of light to navigate.

you got sam’s letter earlier, a clumsily written note that was stuffed haphazardly into your farm’s mailbox—the yellow lined paper he used, all crumpled and ripped.

meet me in front of my house! at 8 pm, i’ll be waiting. there’s something i want to tell you.

the ending sentence is somehow even more sloppily written compared to the ones before it. as if he was debating whether or not to add it in, but ultimately decided for it—it’s funny to imagine him hunched over his desk, stressing over what to write to you.

well, you won’t deny feeling excitement over the possibility of whatever sam has to say. if the subtle skip in your step is anything to go by.

you walk through the silent night of the town, it seems like everything’s frozen in place during the colder times of the year—everyone’s safe at home, toasty under their covers and you’d imagine thoroughly enjoying going to bed at 7 pm.

you do too, sometimes. there’s less to do when the ground is too frozen to plant any crop.

there’s a lot more free time out of the farm during the winter. you’ve really started integrating yourself with the townspeople—helping haley find her bracelet, befriending sam’s prickly coworker shane, and even discovering a shadowperson named Krobus in the town sewers. it really is starting to feel like home.

walking, you cut the corner passing by emily and haley’s house—and there he is.

he looks devastatingly handsome all dressed in winter clothing. his regular denim jacket switched out for a dark woolen coat, his pants are unripped and, surprisingly, not smeared with dirt.

though what you like most about his winter attire is his hair. those wild golden locks are laid flat under a woolen beanie—a stark difference from the spiked updo he usually does (though you like that one too). the tips of his hair are slightly curled upwards, revealing that family trait of curly hair.

you creep closer, just watching him wait for you—the way he folds his arms in an attempt to warm up, and the little shuffle he does on his feet. you laugh softly, he must’ve been waiting a while—just like you have for him.

sam turns at the sound of your laugh, his body unconsciously tilting towards you, like a magnet’s uncontrollable attracting to metal. “you made it,” he breathes, his nose, ears and cheeks pinkened by the cold.

you nod, unable to stop a bashful smile from forming on your lips. “i made it.”

a big grin splits his face, mimicking yours. underneath the lone lamplight he looks jaw-droppingly handsome. you feel yourself become warm just in proximity to him.

“i wanted to talk to you in private,” he says. sam’s buzzing with energy, surveying the dark streets before meeting your gaze with his. “it’s kinda cold out here though… i, um—i can sneak you into my room…”

your heart skips a beat, like you’ve skipped a step on a staircase. “what?” you croak.

your eyes catch onto him wringing his fingers, a nervous habit you can’t help but always notice (not because his hands are nice and interesting to look at, not at all).

“you don’t wanna?”

“no!” you inhale, trying to alleviate the twisting sensation in your gut. “i do wanna, ahem, lead the way.”

sam smiles at you, dimples and all. he leads you towards the tiny bedroom window in front of his house. the window is already open—you assume that’s where he jumped out of to meet you.

he climbs through the window with minimal effort, landing on the flooring with a dull thump!

you raise a brow. “have you done this before?”

sam stretches his hand out to you, waiting. his smile turnt sheepish. “i mean, i think we were all rebellious teenagers once.”

you resist the urge to snort—sam’s nervous, you can tell. he doesn’t have his quips and jokes tonight. and he’s shy, but eager. like a puppy, excited and curious about the world.

“o-kay,” you say, one hand in his hand the other set firmly on the windowsill. “make sure i don’t fall please.”

sam nods, eagerly. the curled ends of his hair shake along with the motion as he does.

how endearing.

you tighten your grip on his hand, hauling yourself through the small window, trying your damn best to not make any sudden noise. which is successful for the most part, only a tiny huff of exertion escapes you.

annoying, yes. but the chill of winter burns through any energy you have faster than other seasons.

your feet connect with the wood of his floor, hand still clasped in his and the chill merely at your back. it’s warm inside, with him.

his room is the same as it’s always been when you’d visit before—shelves, band equipment, posters—but the ambiance is different. a little more charged with tension so thick you could cut through it with a knife.

sam does not bother turning on his light, you don’t mind it all that much. but it takes some effort to avoid tumbling over stray objects that clutter his bedroom floor.

“look, I know I’ve been about nothing but the band for a while now…” he starts. “but I don’t want you to think that’s all i’m interested in.”

you chuckle, clasping your fingers behind your back. “it certainly takes up a big chunk of your interests.”

he pouts, literally pouts. it must be the love bug you caught because you think it’s just plain adorable. “i’m really trying over here!”

“sorry!” you grin, “okay, continue.”

“well, um… shoot, this is kinda hard, huh?” he forces an awkward chuckle. “and nerve-wrecking… but what i’m trying to say is…”

“i’m really happy that we’ve grown this close, and well…” sam looks at you, he’s stupidly red—the color spreading all over his face. “i—i’m just wondering, do you think of me as… just a friend?”

your breath stutters, and you feel yourself blushing before you can do anything to stop it. you stare at him as he does with you. the two of you locking eyes for a second, it feels like it’s just you and him in the world.

you feel your shy admittance at the tip of your tongue. no, you’d say, you’re more than that for me, if you want to be.

sam smiles at you, shy but so, so overwhelmingly bright—it’s blinding. your head is running a mile a minute when you finally get the courage—

“sam!” you hear jodi’s groggy voice from outside the door. your stomach drops with dread. “somebody’s at the door! go and check please?”

you lock eyes once again, this time for entirely different reasons, and with entirely different feelings.

“oh my god, sam,” you whisper hurriedly, panic gripping you. “your mom doesn’t know i’m here—what do we do—”

“hold on—” he replies, with the same sense of urgency as you. “okay, okay—i have a plan, just trust me, ‘kay?”

you think you might break out into a cold sweat. you look at him quizzically, “what?”

sam gives you an apologetic smile with that stupid beautiful face of his, he moves forward, grabbing you by your wrists, and moving you with him—towards his bed.

“sam!” you hiss, alarms are blaring in every corner of your mind as sam all but drags you under the toasty covers of his bed. he lifts the blanket and stations you by the edge, covering you in the blanket—which is now a lumpy mess.

this is his childhood bed you’re in, where his mother and brother are just by the door.

and his mother is calling him.

“i’ll get this over with quick,” he says to you, already heading towards the door of his room. “hang on tight, ‘kay?”

you breathe a sound of agreement, way too jittery to formulate any proper response as you quieten under the covers.

though the sheets do feel nice, and smells overwhelmingly of that specific cologne he uses (stolen from joja inventory, he told you once). you will yourself not to relax and melt into the sheets so fast. instead, you listen for each and every sound that may give hint to whatever the hell is happening.

there’s a commotion that you can hear happening, the door swings open, the hinges creaking along with it—this whole surreal experience feels a little like the confrontation part of a horror movie, the helpless victim hiding and the heavy footfalls of the killer.

though in your case, it’s not one set of footsteps, but two.

“what are you two doing here?”

“you’re the one who called us over, remember?” you can recognize the band’s shut-in pianist’s voice from anywhere. “you were all like, stop skipping practice, seb.”

sam’s voice is oddly pitchy when he responds. “…well, tonight’s no good!”

you hear the other person huff, you strain your ears harder to listen. the huffing person clearly fed up with the strange behavior sam’s putting out right now.

“my mom and vincent are asleep,” he adds hurriedly. “they’d wake up—”

you resist the urge to groan, stifling your mouth under a sweaty palm. jodie was just speaking to him minutes ago, there’s no way they’d buy that. he cannot be a more obvious liar.

thankfully they gloss over the fact. “sam, why are you acting so damn weird?” sebastian asks, straightforward as ever.

“yeah,” the other voice adds. feminine but strong. which you now identify as abigail’s, you hear a pinch of impatience in her voice. “and why are you red? did you sit outside in the snow or something—”

sam chokes, which he tries to conceal as an odd sounding cough. abigail pauses mid-sentence. the shift in the atmosphere is palpable. you screw your eyes shut, hearing the rapid rate of your heartbeat. it’s so loud you’re almost convinced the trio can hear the thumping from your hiding spot under the sheets. this is it, they’re going to discover you.

“oh, oh i see,” abigail grins. “on second thought, i wouldn't risk catching all those germs. i’m feeling starved, let’s hit the saloon, seb.”

the aforementioned man grumbles, seemingly puzzled by the sudden switch in abigail’s attitude. “huh… why?” abigail must have whispered something to him—you can barely hear over the muffle of sam’s blanket comforters. “ugh, alright. fine. you owe us one, sam.”

“oh, of course! mhm, yup,” you cringe at the immense awkwardness of sam’s response, feeling the overwhelming urge to pull out your own hair. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah? now shoo! wouldn’t wanna get you both sick or somethin’…”

“huh?” sebastian replies, rightfully puzzled as they’re forcefully pushed out of the room. “why would we see you tomorrow if you’re sick—”

“well seb,” abigail says smugly. “let’s just say sammy here is taking care of some important business—”

“okay, bye!” you hear the door click shut. to your utter bewilderment, sam shut the door in their faces.

the room is deathly quiet, the air is stagnant and stuffy. once you feel it safe enough, you crane your neck out of the blankets to check over him. to trace any lingering feeling the sudden visit might’ve given him. sam’s got his back rested against the wood of his door, his back slumped.

“i—i wasn’t expecting that,” you say quietly from your hiding spot on his bed. peeking the top half of your face, watching the door carefully. “kinda nerve-wracking.”

and embarrassing.

“i know—i’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “i didn’t expect them coming over.”

“sebastian said you invited them for practice, though.” you point out.

“maybe i did,” he admits, creeping closer to you on the bed, even if he’s guilty and embarrassed. “i totally forgot—i mean, i was really nervous! my mind blanks when i get nervous…”

sam stops right by the side of the bed, as if he’s waiting for your permission to get in with you—in his own bed. and to be perfectly honest, you really want him to.

“kinda ruined the atmosphere too,” he looks away from you, eyes downcast and melancholy. “i had this whole thing planned too, and i, just… ugh…”

your eyes soften. “sam, it’s really fine. okay, maybe a little shocking but you know it’s not enough to scare me away.”

he looks down at you, worried. his eyebrows are ever so slightly pinched—you wish you could run your fingers over it, and smooth it out yourself.

“plus,” you murmur, reaching over the small amount of space between the two of you to clasp his wrist. “i’m not just gonna leave… just tell me what you were going to say—before the… interruption.”

that gives you the final push to gather your courage to tug him into bed with you. sam follows, flopping onto the empty bedding next to you without a fight. for a moment, it’s just the two of you, side by side, slowly huddling closer and closer for warmth.

and sam is warm. he’s practically radiating comfy heat you wish to burrow into—or wrap yourself around. the perfect bed-partner for winter nights like these.

you find yourself becoming addicted to the feeling.

sam angles his body towards you. you on your back and him on his side, it feels intimate and special. and for some reason, it feels familiar—like you’ve always belonged by his side.

“i think you know already,” he tells you, his eyes are not clear in the dim light but you know, there are practically hearts in them. “that i like you.”

you giggle softly. “and i think you know the same about me.”

sam tentatively grasps your hand, the freezing fingertips thawing under his careful touch. the caress of his hand on yours sends tingling electricity down your spine, your whole body feels alert—alive.

he speaks again, but this time his tone is a whisper of what it usually is. “stay awhile?”

“yeah,” you swallow, squeezing his hand in your grip. a small smile on your lips. “yes, i want to.”

“good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkle at the edges so softly and the dimples on his cheeks deepen. there really is no one else who can compare for you. “hey, you’re really cold… let me warm you up?”

you turn to your side, facing him. at this angle, your faces are mere inches apart. you can trace every dip, line and curve of his face, and he yours. your hand tingles with the overwhelming urge to reach for him and squeeze.

“it is cold,” you agree. “i’d very much like that.”

“phew,” he softly sighs. sam drags his fingers up your arm, stopping at your elbow. wherever he touches, a whisper of him lingers on your skin—a bone deep imprint you yearn for him to spread all across your skin.

you roll into him with little to no effort at all. sam drags you to his chest, your ear perched right above his heart, you can hear the steady thump! of his heartbeat from underneath. sam winds his arms around you, intensifying the heat you feel by tenfold—it’s not uncomfortable at all, though. you like it.

your bodies fit perfectly together, just like puzzle pieces. a mess of limbs tangling together. the warmth of him making you shudder in honey-like delight. it feels syrupy and soft and warm wrapped in his arms.

his hand at your back travels downwards, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake you feel even through the thickness of the fabric separating the skin of your back and his fingertips. his hands feel rough and calloused at the small of your back—from playing guitar and his skateboarding incidents—but you enjoy the feeling.

you trail your fingers under the thick fabric of his jacket and shirt, feeling the smooth skin underneath—the action has no deeper meaning than you wanting to feel.

sam’s uncharacteristically quiet. his breaths are slow and long, like he’s on the verge of sleep. yet his arms are wound tight around you—like he never wants to let go of you. your nerves make you feel like a slow simmering soup. warm and slowly cooking over the fire.

you two stay entangled for a while, in comfortable silence. sometime during the night you’ve matched your breathing to his, and he pulled you somehow even closer to his body.

but, a thump comes from his window, a light tapping sound. soft but persistent. the two of you opt to ignore it, in favor of snuggling closer to each other. yet the taps continue, and become louder and faster.

disrupted by the noise, sam mournfully throws the covers from over him to check, untangling himself from your grip. leaving a very him-shaped indent on the bed left in his wake. you groan, sticking your bottom lip out, you miss the warmth of him already.

“oh shit.”

the expletive makes you sit up in his bed, the comforter draping off your middle. you can make out the shape of him even with the dimness of the light—sam’s back is towards you, and if your eyes dare deceive you, he looks like he’s shrinking into himself a tiny bit.

“what is it?” you whisper-shout to him.

he slowly turns to you, wide eyed, his shoulders stiff. sort of resembling a kicked-dog. sam bows down his head—with what you think is shame, for what reason, you can’t tell. rubbing your eyes of sleep, you furrow your brow, craning your neck to look out the window behind him.

abigail and sebastian are there, waving wildly at you. your eyes widen. abigail and sebastian are waving at you with smug smiles plastered on their faces.

your stomach drops for the umpteenth time that night. you honestly feel too horrified to speak.

you bury yourself under the sheets, a feeble attempt to conceal your mortification. so that’s why abigail was playing along with sam’s urgent ramblings—she knew (not that sam was any good at keeping a cool facade, he is totally incapable of lying smoothly). you groan, you feel like a rebellious teenager again, only the part where you get caught and utterly humiliated.

outside, you can hear the loud roaring laughter of the duo through the glass, alongside the awkward, embarrassed chatter of your newly-minted boyfriend. (not technically official, but the title succeeds to relieve your horror by the tiniest bit)

still, you stay put. through the mortification and embarrassment you still stick yourself to sam’s side, or more literally, on his bed—because you know, there’s no other place you’d rather be.

you spare another glance out of the covers at the trio—to your surprise, sam’s beat you to it. looking at you with heart eyes and the most lovesick expression (you’re pretty sure yours looks the same).

you know there’s going to be a lot more explaining to do in the morning. but it doesn’t matter to you, not right now when you’re in sam’s bed on the verge of sleep.

not when you feel so warm.

a/n: shoutout to the ass trio for making an appearance in the fic! i love you abby and seb.

sweet like

word count: 1.5 k

synopsis: love confessions are not easy, having nosy neighbours isn’t either—but loving sam is different, it’s as easy as breathing.

a/n: samson my beloved, youre allergic to pollen but accepted my bouquet anyway. 😔❤️

edit: sweet like is now on ao3! here

today’s the day, you’re really going to do it. no ifs or buts.

you swear you will, but damn if it isn’t messing with your head. it’s definitely the nervousness or heat stroke symptoms causing the overly-conscious way you regard all other shoppers in pierre’s general store. you feel the uneven, erratic thrum of your pulse underneath your skin.

your hands are cold and clammy and disgustingly sweaty as a bright bouquet of tulips, poppies, sweet peas and fairy roses is unceremoniously slid across the store counter and bundled into your arms. the smell is dizzyingly perfumed. pierre doesn’t bat an eye though the knowing glint just tells you that he knows.

you and sam have been friends for as long as you started living in the valley. he’s a literal ball of sunshine compacted into a 5’10 body, and he’s sweet—maybe at times a little sloppy and forgetful but those quirks make him all the more lovable—to you.

and you admit yes, you did have a crush on him—and after watching his band’s performance in zuzu city, it got even worse. suddenly the ignition jump started the thrum of your heart—beating at race car speeds at the mere mention of his name. restless and anxious

so, here you are, buying a bouquet (one you could surely make yourself, but according to abigail buying this exact one is town tradition) at 10 am in the morning, in front of all your nosy neighbours.

you clutch the flowers tighter to your chest as caroline cranes her neck to take a peek. slowing down as she restocks the shelves. shameless, these people are sharks to blood when it comes to gossip.

you shoot her a wary glare, lips pursed together. pushing open the door to the shop, the little entrance bell rings with your exit.

after your realization, you see the world through rose-tinted glasses, the skies seem brighter and clearer, with soft fluffy clouds suspended in them. the breeze is soft and refreshing, while the sun is a comforting warmth at your back.

not even a few steps past the stardrop saloon do you feel any different.

adrenaline pumps through your veins as you see a flash of familiar spiked-up golden hair in your periphery. you feel your breath stutter as you reflexively stuff the delicate bouquet in your pack and snap it shut.

you turn your back, clutching a hand to your chest—you feel your heart racing underneath your fingertips as well as the heat rising up your skin. it’s fine, you reason, you’ll play it off as sunburn.

you slap at your cheeks, encouragingly.

the aforementioned man, skates towards you, calling your attention. turning, you nod your head in greeting, offering him a less than wobbly smile.

you wait until the skateboard skids to a stop, sam stops a few feet from you. his breaths slightly labored from the effort, he’s still as bright and cheery as ever

“sam,” you cringe as your voice cracks into an awkward pitch. he perks up at the mention of his name, giving you an enthusiastic wave. you swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“hey farmer,” he smiles, sam sets one of his feet down from on his skateboard. “it’s really bright out today. what’cha up to?”

“i was looking for you, actually.”

“and i’m here!” he replies before sheepishly adding. “that’s a coincidence. i was going to go visit you—well, before i forgot.”

“really,” your stomach traitorously flutters. “what for?”

“to give you something,” he says breezily, sam digs around in his pant pockets, seemingly looking for something. “i swear i have the thingy in here somewhere..”

you watch as he fumbles around looking for the thingy. Your mind drifts to the scrunched up bouquet sitting in your pack. you hadn’t expected running into him so soon—

maybe, you think. you aren’t as ready as you think.

“ahh, here it is!”

sam fishes out a rectangular shaped object from his back pocket, its slim and clear. you tilt your head in curiosity and he smiles wider.

“a cassette of the band’s song,” he tells you, grabbing your limp hand to stuff it into your palm. “listen to it! you have a cassette player on your farm, right?”

the momental brush of his hand against yours has you stumbling over your mess of thoughts and feelings. it is a little pathetic, to be acting like a lovesick teenager again—you groan to yourself. “yeah, i do.”

the cassette is light in your palm, the hard plastic case is covered in sharpied lightning bolts and smiley faces—along with the careful engraving of your name. the hand drawn designs are wonky and childlike (you suspect he asked vincent to draw them), but it’s yours.

he made this for you.

you feel the giddy warmth spread all throughout your body—concentrated in your chest and stomach which twists with some emotion you’re too confused to name.

“i couldn’t find you after the performance,” he confesses. you peek up from the cassette at his face—his cheeks are bright pink with bashfulness. “it was too crowded, i wanted to give you the first sample recording.”

standing on willow street in front of his family house with the sun beating down on you, sweat dripping down your temple, flowers haphazardly stuffed into your backpack. you’re literally buzzing with energy—the warmth, inside and out, is making your head spin.

you feel your mouth moving before you can even register what you’re saying, feverish words tumble out.

voice a tad strangled, you rasp. “sam.”

he looks down at his skateboard, his attention; short and slipping away. “yeah?”

“be my boyfriend.”

“sure!” he pauses, processing what you said, his eyes whip back up to stare into yours—wide and so, so blue. “waaait.. wuuh—”

“i was—uh, do you want to know why i wanted to visit you today?” you ramble on, tracing the cassette case edges with sweaty fingers. the beat of your heart is a resounding thumping sound in your eardrums. “actually, this is not how i planned things, but got nervous, you make me nervous.”

you shrug off your backpack, the heavy weight of it that once was grounding you groaned as it hit the ground. you open the flap and produce the now crumpled flowers—stems bent and broken, petals missing but the smell is still overwhelmingly sweet. you hold out the bouquet to him with shaky fingers, the cassette held in your other hand clasped behind your back.

“—i wanted to make this a little more special…” you sigh nervously, eyes squeezed shut while your bottom lip is chewed between worrying teeth. “it’s all crumpled, sorry…”

“i think this is plenty special already.”

you feel as he moves closer, plucking the flowers out of your hands. now, there’s barely any space between the both of you. your eyes snap open, mouth slightly gaping as he takes a long sniff full of flowers.

your heart sings for joy as he does—but the concerningly wet sneeze he lets out makes you furrow your brow in realization.

he’s goddamn allergic.

your eyes widen, reaching for the flowers. “sam, you’re allergic to pollen!”

your fingers barely brush the stems when he pull the flowers away from you. sam laughs, bright and pure—one that sounds like it came deep from his gut. you flush deeper in embarrassment, and a little in confusion.

“so? you gave me these. i like them!”

“i can’t believe it slipped my mind,” you cringe. “don’t keep them! the stems are all twisted and broken anyway.”

he sneezes again, shaking his head petulantly, his nose pinkened with irritation, a small sound of mortification exits your mouth. how can you be so forgetful?

digging through your backpack, you grab the small pack of tissues you usually use to dab off sweat easily. you take one out of the pack and stretch it out towards him.

instead of your offered tissue, sam grabs you by the wrist, tugging you to him. you follow with not much of a fight, a confusing mixture of nervous and giddy energy you’ve become. he holds you still against him, his arms coming behind you to wrap the both of you together tightly.

you go limp against him, head buried his shoulder. you think, you fit together perfectly.

“by the way, i like you too.” he murmurs into your hair. “a lot more than you think i do.”

“even if i forgot you were allergic to flowers?”

he snorts, leaving a chaste peck on your forehead, you feel your cheeks flush. “especially because you forgot, it was kinda funny.”

your head shoots up, nearly bumping his chin. “sam!”

he laughs and you can’t help but smile in return. your gaze returns to the sky, and suddenly you can’t quite recall what you were so worried about. really, life in stardew valley has never been so bright.

(and if you see some of your neighbors watching at the corner of your eye, you shut your eyes to ignore them.)

salmonberry season

Spring is winding to its end in Remoria Farm—Ambrose likes the tartness of salmonberries, and Milene likes him.

original characters, Milene & Ambrose (!!!) ; farmer/farmhand

Ambrose thrives in the valley.

Milene knows because she watches, always watches him. She knows that he hums to the beat of cheesy love songs while watering parsnip seedlings. That he likes to lie in the chicken coop and cuddle the hens in his arms when he thinks she isn’t looking. The townspeople that laugh brightly when talking to him—they like him, it’s obvious by the way his arms are never empty from a trip to the town, there’s always another pot of soup or a jar of pasta sauce.

Most of all, though he can’t recognize it himself, Milene sees the bright spark in his eyes.

She remembers what they looked like before they moved to the valley, dull and unfocused and so far away. His office job in Joja made him slowly waste away. Now, the green in his eyes shine whenever he wrangles a particularly fussy fish, or when the two of them stand side by side in the kitchen, following televised recipes that leave the house smelling deliciously of caramelized onion and garlic.

Even now, when they sit under a thick branched tree away from the hot midday sun, Ambrose keeps the twinkle in his gaze. Sticking side by side, they share a handful of spring salmonberries—handpicked by Ambrose himself. The berry is sweet and tart, sticky and viscous all over her fingers and lips. She wipes the red stained juice smeared on her fingertips off on the hem of her shorts.

Absentmindedly, Milene reaches to pluck another pea-sized berry from him, but he twists his body away, hiding the salmonberries with a faux frown. She stretches her arm farther, reaching for the berries, resting her other palm on the grassy bed below. She shoots him a puzzled look.

“You had your share,” he says. Milene raises a brow. “The rest are mine.”

Huffing, Milene reaches again, her arm bumping his shoulder. Ambrose, this time, fully turns his back to her and protectively cradling berries to his chest, making the reach unsuccessful. She scoffs at his childishness and pokes him in the side.

“Selfish.”

Ambrose wiggles his eyebrows, aiming a smug smirk at her. “And you’re a leech,” he replies just as fast. “If you joined me in picking berries we’d have more, but you didn’t. You get what you get.”

“Excuse me,” she forcibly rests her weight against his back. Ambrose breathes on a wheeze as she leans over him. “I’d assume you’d be able to do something as simple as that on your own.”

Milene can hear the smile in his voice. “Picking berries is not simple.”

“Putting up with a brat like you isn’t simple either,” she replies dryly, pinching at his ear. “What did I do to deserve this? You’re breaking my heart here, I’ll have to go back to my dingy apartment in Zuzu city to save some face.”

Ambrose stiffens, his back ram-rod straight, his lips pressed into a line when he looks back at her. Milene sits back, the sudden change in atmosphere making her heart rate spike—did she say something wrong?

Milene rests a steadying hand on her chest. Damn this man for making her emotions run all over the place.

His hand flexes and rubs absentmindedly at the denim of his overalls. A nervous tell of his, for what reason he is buzzing with nerves she can’t tell.

“—Ambrose,” she can hear the high pitchy quality in her voice, she cringes inwardly. “You eat a rotten berry or something? What’s up?”

Small steady streams of light filtered through the branches shine on them, Ambrose turns his head back and looks her directly in the eyes.

“Don’t say that,” he says under his breath, Ambrose speaks it like a secret along with a long suffering sigh. Like he’s been hiding the sentiment for a while. “Don’t say that you’ll leave.”

Oh.

Immediately, Milene feels the giddy swing of her stomach, the knotting and unknotting of her gut as giggles slip past her berry-stained lips. Ambrose fixes her with a weak glare, more of a pout if anything.

His posture is significantly more relaxed when he goes to chastise her. “Dude, not funny—”

Milene takes the opportunity to pluck a salmonberry from his hand while his attention is taken away. “Very funny. Hilarious even.”

His frown deepens as she pops the berry in her mouth, but she knows better. The twinkle in his eyes are bright, overwhelmingly so. The sight makes her heart swell and threaten to burst out of her chest. It’s honestly kinda terrifying.

“There’s nothing for me in the city,” she murmurs, pressing her thumb and pointer together, they stick together with berry juice. “I won’t leave, ever.”

Ambrose snorts, bringing two berries into his mouth, his lips stained red along with it. “What if there’s a drought and we lose all our money?”

“Hell no,” Milene entertains his inane imagination. “You wouldn’t survive without me. You’d die of loneliness, or starvation.”

“Gee Milene, you really know how to cheer a guy up.” he deadpans.

“Not trying to cheer you up,” she smirks. “It’s just the plain simple truth.”

He narrows his eyes. “Okay, but what if—”

“No,” she interrupts, waving her hand. Milene tucks her feet closer underneath her, staving off the brunt of the summer heat.

She rests her hand by his side, studying his face intently. The curve of his nose, the slope of his cheeks and the cut of his cheekbones, his eyes—his eyes that glitter and shine like emeralds.

Milene thinks that she can stare into them forever.

“Besides,” she shrugs, “I like to watch you. You’re happy, I’m happy too.”

letters to the sea

Another thing; the melusines seem especially eager to share correspondence with you. They asked me personally for the mailing address of your new residence and I could not refute them. They seem to be abusing the soft spot I have for them, do forgive me.

With the help of the Hydro Sovereign, the melusines have taken over the mailbox of Furina’s new residence.

furina/neuvillette ; fluff

07/20 Lady Furina,

As per your request, I have provided you residence outside the Palais Mermonia. Take as much time as you need in moving in, I shall send Sedene to check on you every few days. I would have done it myself had it been that she was so insistent on it. Do not fret about repayment, this is the least I could do for you. It is hardly a dent in my coffers.

Another thing; the melusines seem especially eager to share correspondence with you. They asked me personally for the mailing address of your new residence and I could not refute them. They seem to be abusing the soft spot I have for them, do forgive me.

Rest well, if there is anything else, do not hesitate to send me a reply.

Your dear Iudex, Neuvillette

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07/28 Dearest Lady Furina,

Is your new house comfortable? When I visited you last time, it was cramped. And it was dusty and it smelled kinda bad… If you want, I can help you dust it the next time I visit. Even if I don’t understand why you’d choose to live there, if it makes you happy, then I guess I can be happy also.

The food that you made for us last time tasted funny, my lady, I think you don’t have much talent in cooking. When I told Monsieur Neuvillette, he wrinkled his brow. He does that a lot lately, and sighs a lot more too. He’s busy all the time now, especially with all that paperwork you left behind! He always asks me about my visits to you after, I think he’s worried about something. Anyway, I’ll bring that cake you like next time! I’ll just have to ask Monsieur Neuvillette what it was again…

I will stop my letter here now though, my hand is starting to ache.

All love, Sedene (P.S. I miss seeing you everyday, Lady Furina)

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08/10 Hello Lady Furina!

Work at Meropide Fortress has been hectic lately, but I finally found time to send you a letter. Now that you’re human, you have to take much more caution with your health, but if you ever come down with a case of the sniffles, I’ll come to you right away! I’ve also collected some cosmetics that you will absolutely love, I can even tell you about their properties and benefits, if you want to of course.

I’ve been wanting to visit you and Monsieur Neuvillette a lot, I have a lot of stories to share. Like when one of the prisoners at the fortress taught me how to braid hair, I tried it on Mister Wriothesley but his hair isn’t long enough. I told him he should grow it out, you agree right? I’ll try braiding yours once I find the time to visit, I’ll even ask Monsieur Neuvillette to tag along.

Anyway, I hope you don’t feel too lonely anymore. You can chat with me anytime you want, my lady, I always want to hear from you! And before I forget, I put a sheet of stickers in the envelope with this letter. It’s melusine themed! And they are scratch and sniff stickers. I’ve been saving it but I want to give it to you. Cute, right?

Kisses and well wishes, Sigewinne

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09/23 My Lady,

I have written and rewritten this letter countless times, I hope you don’t blame my poor writing skills. Some of the melusines I’ve spoken to say that they see you around the court more often than before. But I haven’t had the chance to see you again. If ever you make your way to Marcotte Station, I hope I could greet you then.

Monsieur Neuvillette has been taking the private aquabus ride to Opera Epiclese alone now, and the rides to and back are silent. He sometimes chats with me, but I’m not too fond of talking. I guess all the chatter you two had came from you.

From, Elphane

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09/30 To Miss Furina,

Congratulations on your stunning theater performance, Miss Furina. It was truly a sight to behold, you are a natural in the limelight. I hope to be able to attend more of your future performances. I can clearly see you flourishing brightly now. And truly, I am happy for you, Furina.

It is also nearing your birthday. Your first as a human, I have to say it is quite bittersweet for me. But if you’ll have me, I’d want to visit and celebrate that day with you. Like we always had done before. I will not come alone of course, the melusine children are practically buzzing with excitement.

Please do not think of me a stranger, Furina, you are the closest person to me. You are always in my thoughts and I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours, Neuvillette

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10/20 Dearest Lady Furina,

I’m sorry, my letter is probably the latest out of all my sisters! I’ve been quite busy with my aquabus shift much more now than before! I think it has something to do with the performances you do for the theater troupe now. All that heavy rain stopping is surely a plus, too. before I overheard a passenger saying that she desperately wanted to watch one of your shows, but the tickets were all sold out! It was a shame, she looked like she came all the way from Mondstat too, don’t worry I made sure to cheer her up with my tour guide skills.

If you don’t mind me saying, my lady, your face seems so much brighter! Like the glow of Lumitoiles. Even Monsieur Neuvillette has been much more perky lately, most don’t notice it but I do. Maybe because you’re spending time together again, I’ve seen a lot of articles on the two of you in the Steambird. The two of you must be super close again if you’re holding hands and sharing desserts. Your good mood is surely infectious! I’m grinning so hard, my cheeks hurt. It’s amazing!

Anyway, if you see me around, please say hi! I can be quite ignorant of my surroundings at times…

Don't be a stranger! Aeval