Hawaii breathes a new life into him, he thinks. The air feels different, and he feels like his heart starts beating at a different time signature. The sand under his feet makes him feel like an entirely new person, re-birthed from the ashes of his former self.
They’re careful, for the first few days. They don’t let themselves sink too far into the water, wade only waist deep. It isn’t until Link tosses him a look, Christy rolling her eyes and shooing them away, that he even thinks about it. Only after Jessie is reaching across the table and lacing her fingers with Christy’s does he toss a couple of bills on the table, kiss his wife on the cheek, and pull Link as far away from ‘careful’ as he possibly can.
The beach has always looked better at night, black and menacing and alive and the most beautiful thing Rhett has ever seen. It’s made only better by the sight of Link pulling at his clothes with a laugh, stripping bare, and running full-speed into the crashing waves.
“You’re crazy!” Rhett laughs, but finds himself following suit, both of their dinner clothes left on the shore to get sandy and wet. They’ll get in trouble later, but for now, he doesn’t care. He’s there in no time, body finding Link’s in seconds, and they crash together like the waves.
“Don’t let me get swept up into the sea. Christy will never forgive you,” Link teases, scrunching his nose up when they pull apart. “Come here.”
And he’s pulled down again, the swell of the ocean matching the beat of his heart, and Link tastes like home. He kisses him deep, wet and harsh, matching every thump of his heart in his chest, and feels himself getting lost in the feeling already.
The sand, when they land on it, is soft and warm, and Link smiles up at him, mischievous and sweet around the edges. “Feel like showing me a good time?” he asks, and Rhett nods his head, bites his bottom lip.
They don’t make it back to their rooms until late, too late, and they’re sure to be quiet, shirts unbuttoned and pants uncomfortably wet. Christy and Jessie are sleeping, curled up in the center of the bed, and it takes them both a second to realize the kids are there, too, sleeping on piles of pillows and blankets on the floor. The message is clear, and Rhett sends a ‘thank you’ to the universe for giving him absolutely everything he could have ever asked for.
The other room, the one under Link’s name, is empty, the bed still made. It doesn’t take them long to change that.
Months later, Rhett pieces this night back together in his brain, listening to Link talk about their trip before he quips in agreement that he and his family also had their own room.
There’s a beat where things almost move forward, but before he can help himself, he says, “Except for that one night.”
My IRL life and my URL life are somewhat separate identities. People I know IRL don’t really know what happens on my Tumblr unless I link them to a specific post. But today, while my mum was googling me looking for another post of mine, she came across this one, which I had written in January about my brother. And well, she read it. Then she read it to him.
Then I got these texts:
And, I’d like to be clear, in case they are snooping me again. I’m not mad. I;m just surprised. When I say my IRL world and my URL world don’t really know of each other, that’s because very few people that I know personally in my life have Tumblr accounts at all. So it’s not a “No, we know each other IRL so you can’t follow me here”, I actually have a couple of mutuals who I know both in the real world and the virtual world.
At the end of the original post, I did write directly to my brother if he ever were to read it, but I never expected he would actually come across it. So I got a little emotional to discover that both my mum and my brother had read it. I never in my wildest dreams expected them to actually come across it. So, I’m a little shaken at the moment, but in the most heartwarming way. I love them so much and am glad they like what I write.
I view my Tumblr self as my truest self. The me who is not bound by anything but my own limitations. Here, I am free to share my thoughts, any thoughts, and I’m just happy that they read a couple of those thoughts and liked them enough to tell me.
Anyway, as always, Hugs and butterfly kisses (or a friendly wave if you have a “no touchy” policy), -Kt 💗
Request: 30 and 46. Reader x Dean. Pleaseee? - anonymous Words: 786 Warnings: Smut-ish, dirty talk, language A/N: Okay so this is my first published attempt at smut so tell me what you think. Pretty nervous about this one, but I have to say I’m pleased with it :) I hope you like it, thanks for the request!
Link to reference post: x | Requests are open: x
30. “It’s not what it looks like…” 46. “Hey, have you seen the…? Oh.”
“Y/N.” Dean whispered breathlessly against you lips, his hands grabbing at your waist to move you further up the bed. “I think we should tell Sam about us.” You gasped as he began pressing kissed down your jaw and neck. “We will, but not yet. I don’t want him to feel like the third wheel. Besides, I kinda like sneaking around, feels more fun, y'know?” You couldn’t disagree. The secret rendezvous’ and more and more inventive ways of having sex without Sam finding out was… Thrilling. Making due with the time you had when he was at the library or like now, on a supply run. Just the idea of it had you keening up into Dean to find some friction. “Now can we stop talking about my little brother when I’m about to fuck you into the mattress?” The ability to speak in full sentences was rapidly leaving you, meaning you could only let out a groan at his words while he mouthed at your neck.
Deciding you’d had enough of dry-humping, you grabbed the edge of his t-shirt and tugged, telling him exactly what you wanted him to do. With reluctance, his lips left your skin and he pulled back just enough so you could get his shirt off before he was attacking your mouth with kisses once again. You ran your fingers up and down his toned back, occasionally letting your nails scratch against his skin gently. His moan was sinful when you reached down further and squeezed his ass through his jeans. “This. Off. Now.” He managed to pant out between kisses as he pulled your t-shirt between his fingertips. As soon as it was gone his hands moved to unclasp your bra while yours began fumbling with his belt-buckle.
Sam wandered back through the library, checking his phone to make sure he’d read the text properly. ‘Werewolf transgenderism?’ He thought to himself. 'Why the hell does Charlie want a book on that?’ He’d sworn he’d heard Dean mention it before, so when he’d received the text half way to the store, he thought he’d swing back and fetch so he could mail it to her as soon as possible. “Dean?” He shouted into the empty space of the library. When no response came, he figured Dean had gone to his room.
You’d just managed to get Dean’s belt buckle and button on his jeans open, releasing him from their confines while he played with your nipples, rolling them slowly between his thumb and forefinger. “Hey, have you seen the… Oh.” The door slammed open, revealing Sam stood in the doorframe. You squealed, pulling half of the comforter over you so he could only see your head while Dean shouted “it’s not what it looks like!” Sam’s slightly traumatised expression suddenly became amused when he took in your dishevelled appearances, the fact that neither of you were wearing a shirt and your lips were kiss-swollen and bruised. “Really? Because it looks like you’re about to have sex.” Dean glanced at you quickly and you gave a tiny nod of your head. “Well, then, it’s exactly what it looks like.” He replied a little sheepishly, but equal parts irritated for having been interrupted. Sam saw the look shared between you and narrowed his eyes. “How long?” Damn Sam and his ability to read people. “What?” The tips of Dean’s ears had stained red with his blush and you couldn’t believe how cute you found it. You’d have to tease him about it later. “How long have you two been together?” “Six weeks.” You piped up while Dean was in the middle of saying “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looked down at you from where he was still sat between your legs and smacked his lips at you, making you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly at him. “And you didn’t tell me? Come on guys, I’m happy for you!” Sam was staying way longer than necessary and it was making things very awkward. Dean grabbed the pillow next to your head and launched it at his brother. “Jesus- Sam, get out!” “Right, right, I’m going.” He grabbed the door and closed it, shouting 'congratulations’ through the gap before it slotted into the frame. Dean dropped down so his head was between your neck and shoulder, letting out a frustrated groan that vibrated against your skin. “I’m gonna kill him.” “Well, at least we don’t have to tell him.”
Sam walked down the corridor, a smug look plastered all over his face. He unlocked his phone, opened up the text app and clicked compose new message.