#steely dan x reader

[sweetheartsnips]

JoJo Masterlist

links to my ao3 only stuff as well as stuff that is posted to tumblr. NSFW! MINORS DNI

Assorted x Reader One-Shots

Snips' JJBA One-shots Series

Ode to Autumn - Jonathan

Do it Again - Steely Dan

In Too Deep - Jotaro

Be Quiet and Drive - Rohan

In My Dreams - Speedwagon (angst warning)

Telephone Line - Mista

Just Like Heaven - Doppio

Light My Fire - Gyro

Pet - Risotto

Million Dollar Man - Prosciutto

In Blue Hawaii - Dragona Joestar x fem!Reader

Daddy Cool

Small nsfw one-shots for my favourite JJBA DILFs.

Jotaro Kujo (Part 6)

Norisuke Higashikata IV (JoJolion)

Dio (Part 3)

Joseph Joestar (Part 3)

Diavolo (Part 5)

Shorter Stuff (headcanons, ficlets, etc.)

Prosciutto x fem!reader D/S

Narciso Anasui x fem!sick!reader

[bebegi]

OOPS! ೃ⁀➷ STARDUST CRUSADERS

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶! 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘩 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭! 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦!

genre: accidental confession | modern au | reader x holly, mariah, steely dan, terence d'arby, polnareff.

warnings: lots of swearing and perhaps a little suggestive but nothing else!

PART I– PART II – PART III – PART IV – PART V – PART VI – PART VII – PART VIII – PART IX

notes: why is holly kujo in here, you may ask, why wouldn't she be, i ask you – that woman deserves the world and I'd give it to her if she asked me to,, also i would fight her poor excuse of a husband even if she didn't ask me to (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

© bebegi 2024. do not crop the tag or claim it as yours in any way please, do not repost in other sites without asking for permission + credit, thanks !! reblogs are highly appreciated ♡

[twiixr4kidz]

dating steely dan hcs!!

me and my brother have been rewatching jojo's and we're on part three rn... we're in the middle of the steely dan episode and rewatching it for the first time since 2020 (I KNOW LMFAO) made me remember how much i love this self-absorbed little freakshow...

steely dan's ego is a beast that needs to be tamed

at the start of your relationship, he's kinda douchey

i mean, this IS steely dan we're talking about...

you're never going to be able to get him off of his high horse entirely - however, the more time you spend with him, the more he mellows out

a big part of the reason he's so self-absorbed is because he never got that much attention when he was younger and it's his only outlet of coping, or something like that

outside of his tendency to only think about himself, he's downright obsessed with you

you're in almost every single thought he has and at times, scares him

he's not sure how he's come to love you more than himself but that's something he's trying to figure out how to tackle

he's sickeningly sweet and VERY corny when it comes to the nicknames

his stand isn't called the lovers for no reason...

dan has called you his "pookie wookie shnookie bear" before and you could only hope he was joking... his delivery sounded concerningly serious

on special occasions - anniversaries, birthdays, the occasional holiday - he gets all shakespeare on you

i'm talking the most well-written tearjerking love letter that'll have you in SHAMBLES

dan loves spoiling you more than anything else, whether it's with words, presents, or just his mere existence, as he likes to joke

he tries to take you out on cute little dates a lot

above all, dan cherishes you to a degree that neither of you expected

his cockiness and arrogance has begun to include you as well - he'll butter you up to anyone who will listen, and anyone who doubts his vision of you (or of himself, of course) is going to have to deal with the consequences

[berylcups]

SDC x Reader + Dios Minions : Learning their Language

CW: Beryls Limited understanding of languages, Eclipse Mention, disability mention

Notes: FINALLY! I finished it! 😩 this took me literally months to do. Well…not really but personal stuff came up in between and I also had to get a new car and that was a nerve wracking experience so yeah… I’m still alive. I really hope you enjoy because I really took my time on this and did plenty of research for each one. Please enjoy! 💜 Beryl

Joseph - Standard American English & British English

You wanna learn English??? Oh boy! He’s gonna learn ya’ a thing or two about English. For starters, “learn ya a thing or two” isn’t proper English. This man isn’t proper either.

He's not the best teacher but if you don’t already know the Alphabet it might be worth memorizing beforehand. Because he’s going to show you the difference between American and UK English spelling. Which spelling is the correct way you ask?

“Don’t worry about it! Spell it anyway you want! If we can read it then it’s fine!”

Also don’t be discouraged by all the silent letters you come across in the English language. It’s tricky but once you pick up on the patterns in writing, it gets a little easier. And remember-Native English speakers struggle with reading too so don’t feel bad! You got this! Joseph believes in you! (& Beryl does too 💜)

His favorite way of integrating you into his language is by snuggling up with you and watching his favorite movies with subtitles so you can read along. Just don’t get too frustrated if he falls asleep when you try watching Lawrence of Arabia with him. It’s one of his favorites but he watched it a million times already!

Jotaro - Japanese

Yare yare daze. You want him to teach you Japanese? Do you know how much of pain in the ass that’s going to be? First you have to learn hiragana and then katakana…and don’t get him started on kanji. He’s flattered really, but he thinks this is going to be too much effort than it’s worth.

Don’t worry, that’s where Holly pops in! She’s going to give Jotaro an earful about how she learned Japanese from his father and that’s how they got closer and eventually married. She’s going to give you her (probably outdated) workbooks and translation guides, and dictionaries for you to learn from. (Isn’t she so sweet???🥹)

Ok—he finally gives in and help you learn Nihongo. He’s not gonna talk to you in your preferred language anymore. You’re going to have to decode and guess what he’s trying to say from now on. (So mean 😭) but he's not a complete ass. He will speak slowly and clearly to you so you can keep up.

He’ll point to things and tell want he wants through simple sentences: “I want you to give me… I want to drink … I want to eat … I want to read …”

Once you get a hang of the language a bit, he’ll want to go to the aquarium and have you interact with other Japanese speakers a bit. Don’t worry if you can’t figure out what you want to say, he’ll translate when you get a brain fart.

“Wakarimasu ka? (Do you understand?)”

Kakyoin- Japanese

You want to learn his language? He’s so flattered, he can’t help but blush! He’d love to teach you Japanese!

He’s not sure where to start first…of course you need to learn how to read. But he’s wondering if teaching through video games, manga, or anime would work the best. You should pick for him to help him not overthink it. 😅

He’ll try to teach you through a mix of genres like horror, comedy, drama, fantasy, etc. He wants to teach you about the specific humor Japan has that might go over your head, jokes, tongue twisters, and double entendres.

If you’re brave he’ll teach you about all the different yurei, oni, and yokai Japan has to offer.

You might want to have him slow down because he’s going to info dump on you so hard.

“Hold on a minute Y/N! You’re reading that manga backwards! You’re going to spoil the ending for yourself!”

Avdol- Masri(Egyptian Arabic) & Standard Arabic

You can see the fire in his eyes from excitement when he hears you say you want to learn Arabic. Now…you better be serious about learning this because he’s not going to let you back out just because you get a little intimidated by its difficulty level. He says if he can learn English, than he has no doubt in his heart that you can learn Arabic!

What he didn’t tell you though was… you’re actually learning 2 dialects at once. It’s very important for you to know Egyptian Arabic and Modern Standard Arabic. Egyptian Arabic is needed because that is what most people in Cairo speak. This form of Arabic will help you get to know the locals on a more personal level and get more used to the culture and customs. Modern Standard Arabic is used for formal settings and when you are writing. Speaking of writing…they read and write from right to left! But if you have a good understanding of Arabic writing, you probably already know that.

He’s going to really focus hard on your reading and writing. Al-abjadiyah is the Arabic alphabet and each letter changes form depending on where in the word it is! Don’t worry, he knows this is going to take a while. He’s going to take his time with you. Unlike Polnareff, he is patient.

“Pfft! Ahem, Remember: write right to left, Habibi/ti.”

Once you get used to the language a bit he’ll sit with you and read to you to help you understand the spelling of words and see the patterns of the letters in the different forms taking place in each word. …They’re definitely books for little children but you’ll be making it to more complicated wordy books soon enough!

Polnareff - French

You want to learn the language of love? There’s no better man to learn it from than this pervert romanticist! At least…that’s what he says. The guy is good at teaching but he’s impatient and fussy as hell! 😩 it’s almost as if learning a 2nd or 3rd language is hard! Who would have thought???

“Non non non! Parler français comme un vache espagnole!(your French is very broken!) Come on! You’re using the wrong gendered noun! No..I’m sorry but there’s no gender neutral version for house. Please don’t despair! You can use iel/yel but it might cause some confusion and you might have to use some explanation if someone doesn’t understand… or you could use flip flop between male and female nouns if that doesn’t cause you distress! If anyone has a problem, I’ll tell them “Je vais lui sonner les cloches!”(tell them to mind their own business!)”

Now as an English speaker, you are going to have to rewire your brain on how the Alphabet works because nearly half of the letters in French sound like they’re silent in English! 😰 But that’s okay! You have an enthusiastic but impatient teacher, Polnareff to guide you along the way! The best way to get you involved into the language is through the culture. And that’s through a wine and cheese tasting and then a visit to the very famous Louvre Museum. (This feels more like a date than an educational opportunity…)

Looking at the names of the bottles and how he pronounces the names will help you pick up on the consonants sound and hearing other civilians will help fine tune your own accent and pronunciation.

“Blanc Sauvignon? Did I say that right?”

“Haha—magnifique! you’re getting closer! Say it more with less emphasis on the V.”

Hol Horse- American English (southern)

You wanna learn American English? Well hold your horses, I’m fixin’ to teach you. Just give me a cotton pickin second! English is already a complicated language and we in the south like to make it even more complicated. What’s the most difficult southern saying? It’s “well bless your heart!” It’s usually used to be sassy, but it’s also used to show sympathy…so bless your hearts wisely.

It’s going to be best if you already have grasp of the bare basics of the English language if you ever want to understand whatever the hell Hol Horse is saying. But for you, he’ll take his sweet time and explain everything he means. ❤️

“Don’t take anything I say in English to heart baby girl/boy. You don’t understand something’ you let me know, ya hear?”

For starters, we don’t use proper grammar. Ain’t got no time for that. The best way to understand southern American English is through your stomach…at a family BBQ.

Don’t worry, he’ll make your plate. You might wanna tell him to take it easy, I don’t think that paper plate can handle all that food. 😅 you’re gonna be fuller than a tick! Also if someone offers you a coke, they’re gonna ask which one. Coke doesn’t mean just cola, just soda in general.

“It’s safe to eat funeral potatoes I swear! It has nothin to do with no funeral. It’s just hash brown casserole. It’s good! …I mean, it CAN be served at a funeral but you can have it at any time!”

Devo- Diné Bizaad(Navajo language)

You want to learn his language??? You’re going to melt this cold blooded killers heart!❤️ It’s a sad fact that his language is a dying one. No thanks to the European settlers, but that’s a story for another time. He wants to share all of the goodness of his culture with you and the language of his people-Diné Bizaad which means “people’s language”.

I hope you are serious about his language because it is the hardest language in the world to learn.

In all honesty, he doesn’t really expect you to be a fast learner. You are going to have 33 consonants and 12 vowels to memorize and make your mouth replicate.

He doesn’t want to scare you off so he’s going to start you off easy with simple words that are important to his culture. You’ll learn about the four sacred colors, native symbols, traditions, food, and artwork.

“It’s forbidden to look at a solar eclipse. We stay inside our hogans and sit in contemplation about the sun and moon. We believe the sun and moon are interacting with each other.”

Rubber Soul- Singlish (Singaporean English)

Shiok! Lucky for you in Singapore, there’s a medley of languages spoken there! This man is a complete dumbass but he knows Mandarin, Malay, and English. Singlish IS English but the only catch is, it features a beautiful but complex patchwork of languages featuring Malay, Mandarin, Cantonese, Hokkien, Tamil, and Teochew… So even if you are already an English speaker, you are in for an adventure!

He’s going to take you to hawker center and show you how to live like a true Singaporean! And first thing first is chope-ing. That’s probably the most important Singlish word you are ever going to hear. To chope is reserving a seat by setting your personal belongings down, like a handkerchief, a pack of tissues, or something bigger like a backpack. Low crime don’t mean no crime so don’t leave anything super important behind. Don’t worry about theft…Rubber Soul will be eager to give a back breaker to anyone who dares to try to steal your wallet. 😬

“Why does everyone talk like they’ve been google translated??? Pfft—don’t talk cock lah! That’s exactly what Singlish is. I told you that you weren’t going to understand it off the bat!”

Don’t try and argue with him on it. He’ll speak in complete Singlish and then not ask—but demand to repeat back what he just said in English. Only for him to laugh in your face. 😭

“Wah piang! So crowded! Where you want to makan? Chop chop—going to rain already! You go chope that table. Here have Indian, Thai, Sichuan, Malaysian, Indonesian, and Japanese. You want kopi ah? I SMS when ready. Ok—what did I just say?”

…

“Wah Lao eh?! I literally gave you the EASIEST Singlish phrases to translate! Man you are dumb—still love ya though!”

Steely Dan- Urdu

You wanna learn Urdu? Well of course you do! You might want to have an understanding of basic conversation in Urdu because he isn’t the best teacher despite how much boasts being otherwise. But he’s all smug and secretly giddy that you want to learn Urdu. If you know Arabic, you’re off to a good start! But you are going to have to rewire your brain to pronounce each letter differently and learn a few new ones.

“Of course you should learn my language! Do you know how much I go out of my way to communicate my love for you? Luckily for you I got top grades in writing and grammar in school so you have the best-most-handsome teacher ever.”

Oh boy, you have done it. You stroked his ego and now he’s going to non stop complimenting himself.

He’s going to expect lots of love letters in Urdu from you to him and vice versa. He’s going to have you read them aloud to him so he can hear his own flowery cheesy declarations of love for you. But tread carefully… he’s a grammar authoritarian and human spell checker! He’ll poke fun at your very hard attempts of writing this challenging language. (Just pretend to cry a bit or cry for real, he can’t stand crying and he’ll immediately start being much nicer)

“You call that Urdu?! Where’s your penmanship??? Those look like squiggly little worms!”

“Okay okay—don’t cry! I’m sorry ok?! I love you baby! I really mean it too! No more tears! I’ll help you rewrite your misspellings.”

N’Doul- Masri (Egyptian Arabic) and Arabic Braille*

He’s very flattered. He’d love to teach you, but due to his eyesight, he won’t be able to help you read but with his heightened sense of hearing he can really help you to pronounce everything correctly and get the accent right.

“Good effort, love. But you aren’t using your throat. You need to use your throat to pronounce the Al-Ahruf Al-Halqiyyah (6 throat letters). Try again. I know you can do it.”

Don’t worry about struggling. He understands what it’s like to struggle in life. He won’t baby you just like he expects you not to baby him because of his visual impairment. He’ll gently correct you each time you make a mistake.

—

Now if you’re blind too, or curious about a new way of reading, he’ll teach you Arabic Braille.

*Theres many different types of blindness and it doesn’t explicitly say what N’Doul has. But based off of his eyes and age he probably has congenital cataracts. This is just a HC. It’s all up to you!*

Now he can see just barely enough to guide your hand across the page to teach you each letter in braille. Braille in general is becoming used less and less so he is really intent on teaching you this important life skill as a visually impaired person. Interestingly enough, Arabic Braille is read left to right!

“I vaguely remember what Arabic script looked like before my sickness took away my vision. It used to feel strange reading from right to left and then left to right when I started learning Braille. It was a vast difference and took me a long time to learn. So please don’t worry if you struggle or make mistakes.”

With having you, Geb, and his heightened senses, he doesn’t really miss his vision. He just enjoys each passing moment with you, teaching you his language and sharing his culture

[mscordonean]

I'm backkkk!

I promise I'm writing these 😭😭

Here are my ideas

Fantasy au's!

Bridgerton au!Sylus x black reader

Bridgerton au!Bram Stoker x black princess reader

Bridgerton au!Nanami x black reader

Bridgerton au!L x black!reader

Bridgerton au!Nahyeok Gang x black!reader

Pirate!Sukuna x black reader

Sailor!Armin x black!reader

Ghostface!Megumi x black!reader

Dessert prince!Noriaki Kakyoin x black!reader

Knight!Vilhelm Richard Albert De Haspran x black princess!reader

Werewolf!Fukuchi x Red riding Hood black!reader

Prince!Xavier x Black Princess!reader

Vampire!Steely Dan or Sylus x black human!reader

Popstar au!Sylus x black reader

Wanted for bounty au!Sylus x black reader

Which one do you guys want first?

[kittiwrites]

Dating Headcanons for Dio's Minions

Characters: Hol Horse, Mariah, Steely Dan, Vanilla Ice

I'm rewatching jjba and was thinking how so many of dio's minions just appear for like 2 episodes (if they aren't just hiding while their stand gets all the attention) then vanish. I can't help but think what else are these guys like besides the quick glimpses we see of them. So i picked a few of my fav part 3 villains to write about...though I think it's kinda obvious my fav is Hol Horse. Anyways here are some headcanons on what it would be like to be in a relationship with these goofballs + some general headcanons.

Hol Horse 🐎

He can be very flirty, and gives lots of compliments. He does this to a lot to other women, but that doesn't mean what he says isn't genuine, he means it.

He has issues with committing to one relationship. If he were to be in a long term committed relationship, he'd want them to be a drifter like him.

Being in a relationship with him involves lots of traveling and action. You travel with him by many means, in a car, on a horse, on an elephant, or even on a motorcycle (thanks 90s jojo ova for giving us the image of hol horse riding a bike)

He likes it when the two of you are riding horseback and you hold onto him from behind...he misses it when he rides alone.

He keeps a picture of you in his wallet

He can get very protective of you and even somewhat jealous. You have to stop him from shooting random dudes who stare at you for too long or try to flirt with you.

Isn't interested in getting married or settling down with you, at least for now. He just wants you by his side as he travels the world.

His petnames for you: Baby, Darling, Sugar, Sweetheart

Misc. Headcanons:

He has somewhat of an oral fixation...not necessarily as a sexual thing, he just likes having something to chew on or stick out of his mouth. It's partially why he started smoking

He eventually stops smoking but still gets cravings.

Mariah 🧲

Very flirty, likes to tease you a lot.

Can be kind of touchy at times, likes to see you blush.

Likes to go on nice dates with you, likes it even more when you pay the bill.

Will hold your hand a lot, makes it very obvious to others that the two of you are a thing.

Secretly thinks about using her stand on you to mess with you and have the two of you get stuck together (or more like have you get stuck to her)

Might eventually be interested in settling down and marrying you, especially after Dio is defeated.

Her petnames for you: Darling, Sweet Thing, Dear, Handsome/Beautiful

Misc. Headcanons:

so uh...remember how she keeps metallic things in her bra as a means to attack...well she doesn't just keep weapons in there. Yep, sometimes she might just pull out money, credit card, and even a phone out of there 0_0

She has a specific routine she follows at night before bed. She also takes a long time to get ready in the morning...she has to look her best after all.

Steely Dan 😈

He can be very cruel to others, but he's sweet towards you.

He likes to take you on nice fancy dates...just don't ask how he gets the money to take you on all these nice dates

Related to the above point, he likes to give you nice jewelry he "finds".

Similarly to Hol Horse, he can get protective/jealous of any man who looks at you too long. He uses his stand to inflict severe pain on guys who get the wrong idea.

I think he might be interested in settling down. He likes to tell people he's just a poor guy struggling to make ends meet for his wife and kids...maybe the wife and kids part doesn't need to be a lie 😏

His petnames for you: Babe, Baby, Precious, Cutie

Misc Headcanons:

He does actually have a job as a kebab salesman, but that's just a distraction from his main source of income: stealing and extorting others.

I don't think he'd be bad towards his own kids if he were to have any, but he's not a good role model at all. He probably teaches them how to steal and intimidate the other kids.

Vanilla Ice 🧊

No matter what, he's still devoted to Dio. He'd probably only be with someone just as loyal as he is. Dio is his #1, but you can be his #2.

Dates with him are rare, as he's usually busy with whatever Dio commands him to do. It's more common to just spend short amounts of time together enjoying each others company while not doing anything in particular.

A good listener. Likes to listen to you talk. He's very quiet and rarely talks about himself.

Is willing to die for you and to kill for you

He thinks about settling down with you in the event that Dio wins and the Joestars are defeated. Until then, he's too busy for marriage.

In the event that Dio dies but Vanilla Ice somehow still lives...then he will marry you. You will become his new devotion.

His petnames for you: Dear, My love, My light, Loved one

Misc Headcanons:

He secretly loves sweets. And yes, he does love vanilla ice cream (may or may not be how he named Cream).

[ace-turned-confused]

spin me around | joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist | read on ao3

summary: you find a vintage record store full of rare finds, the man behind the counter the rarest of them all word count: 2,4k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied & wears a dress, way too much music talk, food & alcohol consumption, pet names, touching in public, dirty talk a/n: written for @secretelephanttattoo's Secret Springs challenge! i saw record store on your wheel and ran away with it - this is highly self-indulgent with the music references (like woah) but what better place for it than secret springs :) not beta'd, keep slaying

The stair treads creak as you head up to the second floor, blank CDs are fastened to the risers and old warped vinyl hangs from the ceiling. A faint melody floats down the stairwell that you don’t recognise, the instrumentals rising in a crescendo as you climb, the varnished railing worn and knotted.

You’d found this place online on your quest for a bargain, the secondhand vintage vinyl shop is situated on a fashionable street at the top of town with picturesque mountain views. After stalking their social media pages, you decided you’d just come and see it for yourself. Having mentally prepared yourself for parallel parking, it was unusually stress-free for a Saturday morning, the sun just beginning to warm the air.

Reaching the landing and glancing around, the room is essentially wallpapered with band posters, crates and crates of records are alphabetically organised, and a gallery of LPs sits on shelves behind the counter. A few customers are rifling through the various collections, one man perched on a barstool with headphones wired into a cassette player. The space is light and vibrant, it feels like a sacred haven.

What really catches your eye is the man behind the counter — unruly silver-streaked hair, trimmed moustache and greying beard, unreasonably broad shoulders that fill out his faded thin t-shirt.

“Mornin’!” He looks up as you round the bannister and flashes you a winning smile, his brown eyes sparkling in the light filtering through the windows. “Anythin’ in particular you lookin’ for?”

You greet him shyly as you enter the room, “Just came to look around, thanks.”

“No problem.” He turns back to his newspaper and you can’t help but stare, stuck in place as you think you’ve found far more than you could’ve imagined.

-

The sheer number of records fitted into the quaint shop is amazing, with some dividers spilling over into two or three boxes. Flipping through the S category, you find Sade, Stealers Wheel, Steppenwolf, Stevie Nicks, and countless others — a never-ending supply of artists and albums, some popular and some obscure.

Your eyes go wide at seeing Pretzel Logic, a favourite album by a favourite band. You’ve considered for weeks whether or not to just buy the damn thing online at full price, but you never did. Now you see why, some sort of divine intervention leading you here to snatch it up at a fraction of the cost — or it led you here for that man.

You’ve been peering over to him every time you move to the next crate — crinkles around his eyes, plush lips, deft hands. It’s almost unfair how beautiful he is, hidden away up here from the rest of the world. Admittedly you tried looking if he had a wedding band on, but you scolded yourself before you could complete the task, not wanting to get caught.

Time slips away from you as you switch between scouring through everything and stealing glances at the mystery music man, your fingers cramping from holding onto far more records than you’d planned to take. You scan over the tables and check for anything you may have missed, slinking through the room and placing your selection on the counter. You rummage in your bag to find your wallet.

“Fan of Steely Dan, huh? Gaucho, Pretzel Logic, Countdown to Ecstasy… You’re cleaning me out here, darlin’.” You lift your head at his words, losing yourself at the endearment.

“Yeah, uh… couldn't help myself,” you huff a laugh, feeling heat under your skin as he keeps his attention on you, a half smile on his face. “I did pick out some others, too. For some variation, you know?”

He fans the records out on the table to see each one.

“Yeah, thought you might be a Fleetwood Mac girl, Eagles is a bit of a surprise, but a pleasant one… Steely Dan, though? Wouldn't have pinned a girl like you as a fan of ‘em.”

“A girl like me…?”

“Far too pretty.” He winks at you with a tilt of his head, that half smile now spread fully across his face before he moves to add up the total. Your mind races as you try not to stand and gawk like an idiot.

“I saw online you had Dark Side of the Moon… do you uh, still have it, by any chance?”

“Full of surprises… I’m afraid we sold that one already, noticed it’s a bit of an elusive find ‘round here.” He drums his fingers against the wooden top and looks at you briefly, his eyes warm.

Shuffling papers around, he picks up a notepad, big hands and thick fingers dwarfing the pages. “I can keep an eye out for you, if you’re okay giving me your number? Won’t bother you, just business.”

“Yeah, sure.” His fingers graze across your skin as you take a pen from him and write down your information. Tearing the page off, you slide it across the counter and tease him, “Wouldn’t mind if you bothered me.”

“Well then, maybe I will. I’d love to know what else you got in your carefully curated collection.” He doesn’t take his eyes off you as you pay for the records, and he slips them into a brown paper bag, folding and unfolding the top like he doesn’t want you to leave.

“There’s actually this nice restaurant—” he turns to look behind him, grabbing a small carton and repositioning it on the counter, stalling as he tries to find the words, “—they have uh, live music on Friday nights… if you’d be interested.”

“Sounds fun…” You mull it over, impressed by his boldness but still wary. “Can I let you know?”

“‘Course, no pressure, here,” he writes his own number on a new page and tears it off, holding on as you reach for it and brush your fingers over his hand.

“And you are?”

“Joel Miller.”

Joel Miller. You quite like that.

-

You’d stared at Joel’s number for days, a constant back and forth on whether or not you should go. On the one hand, you knew nothing about this man except his name and where he worked; on the other, you’ve seen just enough of him to be well intrigued… 

You caved and said yes, which brings you to the present day — it’s Friday afternoon and you’re pacing in front of your wardrobe, worried about what to wear. To avoid losing your mind over this, you text Joel for some insight.

You: So, what am I supposed to wear tonight?Joel: Place is smart casual, I guess

Smart casual — arguably the worst fucking dress code description in existence.

You: That doesn’t help meJoel: Just wear a dress or something nice? I’m sure whatever you choose will be perfect

Perfect? Well, that certainly raises the bar. You suspect that Joel isn’t impressed by material things, and isn’t phased by flashy appearances, but you still want to make an effort. He called you pretty once already and you’re hoping he’ll repeat it tonight.

-

Approaching the restaurant, the brick wall facade is lined with fairy lights, the stars just beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky, and muffled music sounds through the windows and glass doors.

Joel waits out on the pavement like a gift from God himself — black dress pants, a hint of chest peeking out from behind his button-up, a blazer hooked on one finger over his shoulder. You can’t help the way your gaze runs over him, noticing how his tummy just pokes out past the waistband of his pants, and just how well fitting those pants really are. You swallow to steady yourself.

“Hey.”

“Hi…”

You fall into silence as you take each other in — a low heat settles at the base of your spine and you drop your eyes to the floor, holding back a giggle like an enamoured schoolgirl.

“Shall we?” He pulls the door open and gestures for you to lead the way, eyes sparkling and a crooked but warm smile on his face, a guiding hand on the small of your back as you step inside.

Black-framed minimalist posters line the walls, the floors are polished dark wood and exposed brass light fixtures hang at varying heights from the ceiling. You pass a long, elegant bar lining one side of the room as you’re led towards the back of the restaurant — this place oozes sophistication, even the waitstaff are in fancy uniforms. Not smart casual.

Joel pulls a chair out for you as you reach your table, a small reserved card rests against a floating candle and two red roses bloom in a slender vase. 

“Do you mind if I take the wall?” you ask timidly, pointing towards the opposite bench.

“Not at all.” His gaze is soft as he shakes his head, eyes trained on you as you both take your seats.

“I just— I like being able to see, it’s uh…”

You smooth your hands over the tablecloth as your voice fades off, resisting the urge to make a game of blowing the candle out. You flit your eyes up to look at Joel, finding he’s already staring at you, candlelight flickering in his eyes. You drop your gaze to the table again, failing dismally at suppressing the grin that spreads across your face.

“You look gorgeous, by the way — if you don’t mind me sayin’. Knew you would, of course, but…”

It seems your outfit choice has paid off — gorgeous?

After hours of flinging clothes off hangers, you’d finally settled on a black, mid-length dress — a sweetheart neckline with white piping, the same white mirrored on the hem, a daring slit up one side of the skirt. There’s nothing casual about it, but seeing Joel dressed up and the finely decorated restaurant has calmed your nerves.

You don’t dare look at him again as the waiter returns and places two menus on the table. The night’s barely begun, and you hope it doesn’t end any time soon.

-

There hasn’t been a lull in the conversation once during dinner, a sharing dessert now in the centre of the table as Joel swirls what’s left of his whiskey around the glass. He held back all evening, fingers twitching and curling into a loose fist alongside yours on the table until he finally allowed himself to dance them across the back of your hand.

“How’d you get into all this record business?”

“Started workin’ there on weekends as a kid, wanted to earn some pocket money. The old man who owned it was like a mentor, he taught me all about the world. He left it all in my hands when he retired, and I’ve never looked back.”

A fond smile on his face as he retells his memories, you saw the first day you met how happy and comfortable he was in his charming shop, and it seems that charm bleeds over into him, too.

“And you get to meet all kinds of people — loud, friendly, aloof… pretty ones, too.” He gives you the same wink and devilish grin as before, continuing his stories as if you aren’t burning across the table.

-

Sometime during the night, he’d moved to sit next to you, claiming he ‘wanted to see the band’ — the arm draped on the bench behind you and fingers trailing across your shoulder says otherwise.

He mentioned at the shop that there was live music here on Friday nights — the one thing he didn’t mention? That tonight’s particular band was a jazz quartet — the slow, smooth, romantic kind of jazz, the kind that acts as the perfect backdrop for a night of cheeky flirting, lingering glances and desperate touches.

“Joel, can I ask something?”

“Shoot.”

You roll the edge of the tablecloth between your fingers. “Is this a date?”

“It can be, if you want.” You drop your hands and eye him, unimpressed by his response.

“Alright, I’ll admit, I was hopin’ for a date. I wasn’t really sure how to ask, didn’t wanna come on too strong.”

You’re silent for a beat, considering how to respond. “I mean, you could’ve just asked.”

“Well then, you wanna go on a date?” He tilts his head, eyebrows raised.

“I thought we were already on one.”

He chuckles at your remark, downing the last of his whiskey and momentarily tracing a finger along the rim of the glass. You focus on his movements, imagining his fingers tracing patterns into your skin instead.

As if he can read your mind, he twists himself towards you and plants that same hand just above your knee, fingers curled towards the inside of your leg as he scrapes his nails against you.

“And?” His voice is almost a whisper in your ear, “Has it been a good one?”

He glides his hand up your leg and into the slit of your dress as you nod, higher, higher, higher until his fingers brush against lace. You wonder if he can feel the fabric dampening.

“Y’know the Pink Floyd you asked about? It wasn’t sold, I kept it for myself. I’ll play it for you sometime.”

“You’re gonna talk about music? Right now?”

“What should I talk about instead? The delicate panties you got on? How wet they’re getting?”

Your breath hitches as he shifts his fingers, tucking them just under the edge of your panties and caressing your skin. Glancing around, the band are still playing low and slow, most tables having cleared out by now.

“Would love to see ‘em, if you’ll let me. I’d really love to see what’s underneath though. Pretty girl like you’s bound to have a real pretty pussy, too. Certainly feels like it, Jesus.”

He presses his fingers into you with more force this time and you turn your head to him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide and not from the dim lighting. He glances down to your lips and back up to your eyes again and you close the distance between you. He repositions the arm around your shoulders, hand holding the back of your neck as you lock your legs together and grind yourself against him.

His lips are soft, beard and moustache tickling your skin as he swipes his tongue against the seam of your mouth. You moan into him as you part your lips, letting him lick into you and you can taste his whiskey. He pulls back and you whine, teasing you with just enough to leave you reeling for more.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Take me home, Joel. Please, I need you.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Wanna hear the music you can make.”

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[snzhrchy]

It’s been a hard day’s night…

how he spends his night with you! (almost) every jjba man x gn!reader

— and I’ve been working, like a dog…

sadly, he’s not the one to be at home early or on time; this man is usually overworking himself until he tires out. Of course, he feels terribly guilty for not being near you and not spending enough time with you and he knows that crawling into bed hours after you’ve fallen asleep is not the best way to make up for their absence but he can’t help himself! The sight of you peacefully sleeping on your shared bed makes his heart melt and he tries his hardest to resist the urge to get on the bed and pull you into their chest—he tries his hardest really but usually he ends up sleeping with your head on his chest…

JOTARO, BRUNO, gyro, diego, risotto, avdol, tiziano (?), rohan, giorno, fugo, PUCCI, whammu, straizo, caesar, abbacchio, ringo, jobin, diavolo

— i should be sleeping… like a log…!

He’s the kind to retire to bed wayy too early—usually shirking his responsibilities in the process just to get a momentary rest. And do not fret, he will obviously drag you into it—whether you’re working late or simply trying to do your nightly routine, he’s urging you from the sidelines to hurry up! He feels sos lonely without you! And, when you finally do succumb to his whines and join him in bed, he’s not letting you go! His muscular hand is wrapped around your waist and his head is on your chest, positioned in such a way so that he can hear your heartbeat—that’s his favourite way to rest! And, now that he’s got you, he’s not letting go, nuh uh!

DIO, josuke4, NARANCIA, melone, doppio, johnny, joseph SOUNDMAN, ghiacco (?), kars, esidisi

— but when i get home to you, i find the things that you do… and they make me feel alright…

He’s the one to be super cuddly and involved in your personal life. Usually after work, he runs straight home but occasionally takes a detour to buy you something nice. Once he arrives home, he’s not leaving your side at all! Hands around your waist, face resting on your shoulders and his lips trying their best to kiss every single inch of exposed skin—he just can’t leave you alone! After all, he spent the entirety of his day without you! So, expect him to be trailing behind you like a desperate puppy—whether that’s inside or outside the bedroom, he’s not leaving you alone…

JOSEPH, polnareff, melone, pesci, josuke4, okayasu, mista, narancia, speedwagon, steely dan, vanilla ice, kira (hear me out), doppio, SECCO

[heaven-s-black-box]

As it Was- Dan Heng x fiancee!fem!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: April 29th, 2025

Description: Hello I just had the most insane idea, what if the reader, who is female and is engaged to Dan Heng, suddenly started having strange dreams about Dan Feng, but doesn't know who he is at the time, and a little girl that looks just like her was always with him in her dreams. The reader unfortunately couldn't tell anyone because she always falls asleep whenever she starts to talk about it.

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions.

Word count: 635

Back to directory

“What’s on your mind?”

“Hm?” Y/n looked back over her shoulder.

Dan Heng wasn’t reading his book anymore, instead watching her. The way she pressed their palms together and ran her fingers along the engraved metal of his engagement ring, listening to the barely audible clatter of metal on metal, and the way her eyes unfocused as he stared off into space. He didn’t take his eyes off hers as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder and laced their fingers together.

“You’ve been quieter than usual.”

“It’s nothing,” Y/n smiled, kissing his cheek and settling back into his hold, “what are you reading?”

The Vidyadhara closed his book and wrapped his arms around Y/n’s waist, holding her snug against his chest, and rested his chin on her shoulder.

They were on one of the couches in the lounge car. He was sitting with his back against one of the couch arms and she was between his legs. Everyone else had gone to bed a while ago, leaving the couple to enjoy privacy outside of the archives.

“I don’t think it’s nothing. If something’s worrying you, I want to help you with it. That’s the least of what I promised you, isn’t it?”

“It is…” Y/n let her head fall back against his shoulder. Her hands covered his around her waist and she began to play with his fingers again. “I’ve been having weird dreams lately.”

“What kind of dreams?”

“Hm… I used to think they were abou-” she yawned. “About you but…”

“But?”

He felt her relax in his hold and pulled back to look down at her. Her head slid down to his chest, and her face was turned in towards his neck.

Dan Heng sighed before placing a gentle kiss to her forehead and carrying her back to their room.

It bothers him that she won’t tell him about the dreams, moreso because he can’t help her if he doesn’t know what’s wrong than the fact that she’s hiding something from him. There’s a list of things he can think of that she might not confide in him about. Things in their past she tries not to remind him of. 

Maybe someday she’ll be able to find the words to explain her dreams to him. To alleviate the doubt in his mind that she thinks he cannot face the past for her. But until then…

Until then these dreams are for her alone.

The damp salty breeze that fills her senses. Her body smaller than it has been in quite a while, the stones and ruins in Scalegorge towering over her as he runs through them. Laughter bubbles up her throat and a smile is plastered across her face as she slows down. She ducks behind a rock, watching. Waiting. Biding her time to-

“It’s dangerous to be out here alone.”

Y/n– at leasts she thinks it’s her, it feels like her–peaks around the rock. Still smiling. Still giddy with excitement and love. So much love that she can still feel it when she wakes up even if she can’t remember why she feels it.

“But you’re here, so I’m not alone.”

The man, a Vidyadhara with long hair and sharp steely eyes the color of sea foam, turns to look at her. He closes his book and lets it hand in his hand, arm propped on his knee. She takes his attention as permission to approach.

“Hello,” she giggles, sitting a bit further from him than necessary.

“Hello.”

“What are you reading?”

“I can read it to you if you’d like,” he offered, opening the book again.

He didn’t turn to the marked page though, instead opening it to the first page. The young girl scooted closer until she was leaning into his side.

“Yes, please.”

[emswritingsstuff]

Radio Control (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

summary: playing your music in the car, daryl isn't a huge fan.

note: very self-indulgent drabble, i headcanon that daryl likes heavy rock music, so quite the opposite of yacht rock. also i wrote this in like JUNE

WC: 0.3k

—

“Turn tha’ shit down,” Daryl scoffed as reached over to the car radio. Smacking his hand lightly, you shot him an offended look. “It’s not even that loud. Besides, without the music I’d be bored as hell.” You could feel Daryl roll his eyes as he focused his attention back to the road. 

Passively listening to the music, your face lit up when Reelin’ In the Years by Steely Dan started coming through the speakers. Turning up the volume knob slightly, you sang along. Daryl’s small grumbles were heard in the background but you just ignored it, just living in the moment. Soon the music got extremely quiet, abruptly stopping your singing to look over at Daryl. 

“What was that for?” as you spoke, it was your turn to reach for the volume knob. But quickly getting stopped by Daryl who grabbed your hand and held it up. “No, can’t focus with yer hippie music blaring,” he kept sneaking glances at your angry expression. Snatching your hand back, you crossed your arms and looked out the window. 

“It’s not hippie, it's yacht rock. If you're gonna insult my music, do it right.” You could sense Daryl’s eyes roll again as you saw him pinch the bridge of his nose out of your peripheral . He let out a deep grunt and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, I should get music choice anyways,” leaning forward your put up your hand and wagged your finger. “Nuh uh, I’m passenger. I get the choice here.” 

Daryl, not wanting to continue the argument any longer, just sighed. “Fine, play what ya want. Won’t complain again.” Getting all smiley again you said a quick, “You’re the best” before turning the music back up. 

Jamming out again, you felt the happiest you had felt in a minute. Finally getting to the music you love again. And even if Daryl complained about it, you knew he loved it. You could see it in his body language when he tapped the steering wheel to the beat of the song.

[seancekitsch]

...And Into my Car: Chapter 1

Pairing: Hughie Campbell x Reader

Hughie hums along to the radio, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he sits and waits parked out front of the Times Square Church. Today is just like any other day with the boys: stake outs and surveillance. That is, until you're slapping your hands on his passenger side window, pulling up the skirts of your ballgown wedding dress and begging him to open the door.

warnings for the series: smut, violence, use of Y/N and supe name, more to be added

Things are peaceful, sort of. Hughie has settled into a pattern that he thinks he likes. Sure, the move from a shared apartment to a solo apartment in Tribeca was chaotic, and he ends up covered in blood more often than he’d like… but comparatively things are going really well! Hughie drums his fingers along the steering wheel of the car, parked outside the Times Square church in all its gaudy glory and beats the wheel to the tune of a Steely Dan song.

Thai food maybe? he thinks, maybe he’ll ask the girls if they want to do Thai after this, this stupid recon op that makes no sense. Why is Vought at this stupid church anyway? There are better churches in Midtown alone, ones that Vought would consider more culturally significant or even better for a photo opportunity than this one.

People stroll along, stop, stroll, stop. Hughie can alway pick out his kind, Native New Yorkers, from the tourists. First of all, they're not afraid to jaywalk. They break the steady rhythm of the traffic in Times Square. They also keep their heads down, dont look at the spectacle of it all. The glitter is mundane to his kind. Even the local theatergoers act as if what they do is a secret, he notices as someone on the corner takes a discreet picture of the Winter Garden before going back to their head down slog, until they head inside.

Wedding bells chime.

Ah, that must be it, Hughie realizes. Maybe one of the Execs is getting married, or one of the lower level supes. He wishes them well, or whatever, the poor saps at best case and a match made in hell at the worst. He's sure the place will be swirling with paparazzi and news outlets. Great. Maybe he should move his car, he realizes, as he could easily end up trapped in on this street if a crowd decides to form.

But just as he's about to put the car in drive, the sounds of metal on glass interrupt, and then:

"Hughie Campbell?"

His musings are disrupted by a loud voice, a woman in a ballgown wedding dress, the kind you'd see from a princess. Jewelry glitters and hair is expertly piled on top of her head. It gives him pause as he pictures Marie Antoinette. Her eyes darting around, looking for something. Perhaps Butcher had some kind of agenda when stationing him near this church today, but Hughie remains a skeptic. Your face has no recollection to him. You are, in all ways, a stranger.

“Hey, open up!” you exclaim, your comically large engagement ring turned inward on your hand and clattering against the window; a behavior Hughie recognizes. If not his car, you’re going to try the subway, your ball gown dragging into the doors of the C train or something. 

“Please!” you ask again, your voice cracking as you speak. For some reason, beyond all of Hughie’s good sense, he presses the button that unlocks the doors. You fling the door open the moment you hear the click, gathering your skirts and your veil up in unceremonious handfuls where Hughie gets a glimpse of running shoes under the dress, and you throw yourself onto the seat next to him. The tulle and underskirts spill over the center console, and Hughie cringes as some of the white netting brushes against the tip of the straw of his dr pepper. You sigh deeply and dramatically as you buckle your seatbelt, throwing your head back against the seat. Your eyes fall shut for a moment, gathering yourself. He doesn't recognize you, not from any of the offices or any of the posters or TV advertisements. If you work for Vought, you don't work in any part of it that he has seen.

“Cold feet?” he asks, and then immediately wants to slap himself in the face. He should kick you out, he really should.

“You could say that,” you chuckle, then add, “You ever see a wedding live-streamed on VoughtPlus?”

“No?” Hughie asks, but he really doesn’t like where this is going. There was talk, of a VoughtPlus wedding livestream, back when Homelander was with Stormfront. It seemed absolutely fucked then, and the idea of it still sounds fucked now. Perhaps there is a good reason why there hasn’t been one of these yet. 

"Well, you aren't going to!" You laugh, your smile bright, and Hughie wonders if you're insane, "And no one will! I'm free!"

"And you needed me for that?" he asks, still not really sure why his car or he specifically is roped into this. But as the seconds tick by, the urge to drive, even with a bride in his car, grows stronger.

"You're parked where a getaway car would be, right? So lets get away."

Hughie drives aimlessly into Hell's Kitchen, past more theaters and trendy restaurants. He's not sure what made him put the car in gear, but he has, and the drive is not bad so far. The radio is the only sound in the car, but it's not uncomfortable. Hughie continuously checks the rearview mirror, but it seems as if he's not being followed... yet. All of it feels off, yet he doesn't raise any alarms just yet. Your lip curls up into a snarl at one of the buildings, like the architecture is deserving of disdain. You pick at your nails, as if clawing at the manicure would fix the situation, or ease something within you.

"We need to get out of this city," you say, your voice wavering and watery. It's now that he sees your eyes are rimmed with tears.

"Yeah, okay, yeah we can do that," he stammers, turning another corner, "Where?"

"Anywhere I guess. We could go to Philly?"

“Thats too close," he dismisses, remembering how easily Vought had found them when they had been on reconnaissance in Central Pennsylvania.

You scoff, your tears fading away as your face becomes irate.

"Well, okay, where are you from?” he asks.

“Philly.”

“I told you that's too close. Pick again.”

“Excuse me? What do you mean pick again? You asked me a factual question about myself,” you scoff, and cross your arms, “Can’t change where I’m from like you probably can’t change that stupid haircut.”

Ouch. He’s struck a chord. But he can’t be mad at you about the haircut comment, not when this is what Kimiko could salvage after Butcher accidentally lit a cigarette too close to Hughie’s head. He knows the haircut is fucked up, but he can’t find it in himself to shave it and start over either. 

“Okay, rude,” Hughie sighs, resolve failing him, “But I guess you’re right. We still can’t go there though.”

“Yes, we can! And you know what? We should. I’ve been hiding stuff away from Vought in there for months now. They’ve never suspected a thing. And Annie’s been a big help-“ Annie? What the fuck does Annie have to do with this? “- and she said that if I ever need help that she can’t give me, that you’re the one to go to! I guess its fate I found you on the day that I needed you most.”

By the time you stop talking your chest is heaving, stress emanating off of you in waves. Hughie has been there. Maybe thats why he can feel his resolve dampening by the second. Annie knew about you, trusted you, and here you are asking for help.

How can he say no?

"Okay. We'll stop in Philly. We can't stay there though."

You nod in understanding, your entire body dropping tension at once as you slump against the seat. Hughie decides then that he doesn't like being the cause of any stress for you, a woman he doesn't even know. Perhaps it's how he knows he's 'weaker' than the other guys in the group, perhaps it's just heightened empathy after the long year and a half he's had. Either way, your relief is shared with him as he turns up the radio and waits for the light to turn green.

He turns down the next street, and changes course towards the tunnel.

[tab00-t33f]

Holiday headcanons (Dio’s Deck x Reader)

Disclaimer: Alessi is missing simply for the fact that he gives me the heebie-jeebies, I’m (really not) sorry Alessi lovers, but I cannot match yall’s freak. Ever.

—————————

Steely Dan

What You Receive: Something flashy and expensive (but likely stolen), like a designer handbag, a diamond bracelet, or anything that screams “I spent money on this!” (even if he didn’t).

What You Gift Him: A stylish leather jacket. He appreciates anything that makes him look prettier, though he’ll never outright say thank you.

Holiday Activities: Steely Dan is the guy who “forgets” to help decorate but takes credit for the results. He’ll try to charm you with mistletoe and sneak kisses while subtly hinting he expects you to spoil him.

—————————

Daniel J. Darby (Elder Darby)

What You Receive: A rare collectible—perhaps a vintage card or figurine he “legitimately” acquired. He’ll smugly explain its rarity and value to impress you.

What You Gift Him: A deck of high-end playing cards or a set of poker chips with a custom design. He’ll consider it a worthy addition to his collection and might even smile.

Holiday Activities: A quiet evening by the fire, playing card games where he tries to teach you strategy (and maybe subtly hustle you). He’ll pull out his favorite vintage wine for the occasion.

—————————

Telence T. Darby (Younger Darby)

What You Receive: A custom gaming console or controller in your favorite color, loaded with games he’s convinced you’ll enjoy (or at least ones he can win).

What You Gift Him: A limited-edition game or memorabilia from his favorite series. He’ll light up like a kid and immediately add it to his shelf of prized possessions.

Holiday Activities: An all-night gaming marathon, complete with snacks and competitive banter. He’ll let you win a couple of rounds but will smugly dominate overall.

—————————

Hol Horse

What You Receive: Something thoughtful but slightly chaotic, like a cowboy hat in your size or a hand-tooled leather belt. He genuinely wants to impress you but doesn’t overthink it.

What You Gift Him: A polished gun holster or a bolo tie that matches his aesthetic. He’ll grin ear to ear and immediately show it off.

Holiday Activities: Hol Horse is all about having fun—he’ll drag you to a lively holiday party full of spiked eggnog and dancing. Later, he’ll promise to lasso you a star (and mean it, in his way).

—————————

Rubber Soul

What You Receive: Something flashy but ultimately cheap—like a knockoff designer accessory he swears is worth a fortune. When you inevitably call him out, he’ll fumble with excuses and promise to get you something better… eventually.

What You Gift Him: A quirky or novelty item, like a loud graphic sweater or a custom mug with a cheeky slogan. He’ll laugh it off at first but secretly love it and use it more than he’ll admit.

Holiday Activities: He’ll overpromise on his plans —then spend most of it messing things up in increasingly ridiculous ways. Expect chaotic decoration attempts, and him scrambling to fix things when they inevitably fall apart. Despite the mayhem, he genuinely wants you to have a good time, even if it means you laughing at his expense

—————————

Oingo

What You Receive: A hilariously bad handmade gift (like a poorly drawn portrait of you), followed by something he actually bought, like your favorite snacks or trinkets.

What You Gift Him: A new sketchbook to help with his disguises. He’ll be genuinely touched and swear to use it well (though results may vary).

Holiday Activities: Oingo loves pulling off goofy surprises, like sneaking silly decorations into the tree. He’ll want to watch movies and create a lighthearted, comedic holiday vibe.

—————————

Mariah

What You Receive: Something sleek and trendy, like high-end headphones or a designer accessory. Mariah has excellent taste and makes sure your gift is both stylish and practical.

What You Gift Her: A bold necklace or earrings to complement her aesthetic. She loves statement pieces and will proudly show them off.

Holiday Activities: Mariah enjoys luxury, so expect a spa day or shopping spree as part of your celebration. Later, she’ll share drinks and laughs with you under the twinkling holiday lights.

—————————

N’Doul

What You Receive: A carefully chosen piece of handmade jewelry, like a bracelet or pendant, crafted from materials with unique textures or natural elements. He doesn’t need to see you to know exactly what you’d love.

What You Gift Him: Something practical or sensory-focused, like a high-quality scarf or scented candles. He’ll quietly appreciate it and keep it close.

Holiday Activities: He prefers quiet, intimate moments—listening to music, sharing stories, or simply enjoying your presence. While he isn’t one for traditional festivities, he makes the effort to show he cares in his own understated way.

[bebegi]

BLEEDIN' ME DRY ⚝ DIO

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥.

genre: modern au | dio x reader (+) mariah, vanilla ice and steely dan

warnings: lots of vampires, mentions of blood but nothing specific

notes: got this idea while over-obsessing with dio hehe hope is not too cringe :3

notes²: the actual playlists:

pov: a vampire is in love with you

let me suck your blood

© bebegi 2024. do not crop the tag or claim it as yours in any way please, do not repost in other sites without asking for permission + credit, thanks !! reblogs are highly appreciated ♡

[builtbybrokenbells]

belladonna | v

Too beautiful to resist, and too deadly to survive; the tragic tale of belladonna in all its glory.

Masterlist | Taglist

Pairing: Danny Wagner x f!reader

Word Count: 20k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), semi-public sex, exhibitionism, name calling, dom/sub, bratty sub, biting, nipple play, praise/degradation, mentions of toxic/abusive parents, mentions of/toxic relationships, mentions of criminal activity/criminal records, poverty, crying, mentions of homelessness, mentions of physical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of AA/NA, NA meetings, heavy descriptions of addictions, use of/mentions of drugs, mentions of relapsing, drinking, flirting, mentions of hookups/sex, smoking, depression/anxiety, mental health struggles, fluff, swearing, sorry if I miss any!!

I know this story isn’t the most popular, but I feel inclined to keep writing it because it is my main source of healing at the moment. It’s imperative for me to tell this story in hopes that it helps someone who struggles/has struggled the same ways I have. So, for the few of you who continue to stick with me through this, thank you from the bottom of my heart. As always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! 🤍

May 31st, 2022

“Play that again!” You exclaimed, dropping your pen against your journal and pointing your finger at Danny, sitting across the porch from you with golden sunshine accentuating his already perfect features. Daniel and Sam both jumped in surprise at the suddenness of your actions, previously not hearing a word from you since you took post on an old blanket under the early summer sun.

“What, this?” He asked, picking a quick little tune on the bottom strings of his guitar. Your heart warmed at the sound, a smile blossoming on your lips as you gave an eager nod.

“Ventura Highway!” You sat up in your seat, leaning further into the music the two of them were playing.

“In the sunshine.” Sam smirked, nodding up at the sky as he motioned one arm vaguely around the three of you.

“The days are longer,” Danny joined in, biting back a giggle at the silliness of your conversation.

“And the nights are stronger,” Sam leaned into his friend, both of their eyes pointed at you as they awaited the strong finish.

“Than moonshine!” You laughed, listening as Danny played the quick sequence of notes again. “My brothers fell in love with this song when I was a little kid. I remember dancing around the living room with them when mom was gone, because nobody could get mad at us for making noise.” You laughed, reminiscing on the fondest of childhood memories that all seemed to happen when your parents were nowhere to be found. “It was on one of the old vinyl records we found in Grandpa’s attic, so we snuck it home and played it over and over again.”

“As much as Steely Dan?” Danny teased, recalling your fascination with them.

“Nothing was played as much as that, Daniel. Don’t be ridiculous.” You shook your head, relaxing into the fleece below you as the sun kissed your bare thighs. The air was warm, the lush grass on the lawn in front of the Airbnb was desperate to be cut, and the pollen was making your nose stuffy. It was crazy how different their yard was compared to the street you lived on despite it only being minutes away.

Now that the weather was nice, the three of you spent your days (when you weren’t stuck at the Fox) lounging outdoors and enjoying the summer before it passed you by. Every afternoon, Sam and Danny got lost in playing songs and writing down ideas while you scribbled in your journal or puttered away on your laptop (which was now on its very last leg). They were writing as much music as they could, harnessing the energy they came to New York to find all while encouraging you to do the same.

Nearly all of your days off were spent with them, aside from the few days you set aside to attend NA meetings. You were still keeping that part of your life a secret, unable to find enough courage to share it with them in fear it would scare them away. Thankfully, because of their company, your addictions were much less pressing than they had ever been, so keeping it to yourself had proven easier than expected as the days passed by.

The diner was the same, never changing in the near two years you spent there. Vincent was a mess, only worsening since your altercation a few weeks prior. Talking was off the table once again, and communication was limited to an occasional snide comment and a lingering glare. You were standing your ground, furious that he had the nerve to say such despicable things to you, and he was doing as he pleased, which was no different than usual. He was still convinced he was in the right, that you were the problem and you were responsible for the heartbreak shared between you, and you knew he would never see the other side. Instead of dwelling, you did exactly as you said you would, and since that night you had stayed as far away as possible.

Although it hurt, it was the right thing to do. After telling him you were done for the thousandth time, it finally seemed to stick.

You did question if it was because you finally reached a breaking point, or because of the curly haired boy who made it impossible to worry about anything other than him.

As time dragged on, it became harder and harder to resist the pull of your heartstrings when you heard his name or saw his face in your mind.

“Sing it, Utah.” Danny said, playing the small riff over again as Sam joined in on his own guitar.

“No way!” You exclaimed, shaking your head. Although you were passionate about art in any form, singing was not your forte, and you weren’t keen on embarrassing yourself in front of the only boy who could make you feel this good.

“Come on!” Sam encouraged, playing through the intro one more time to give you an opportunity to change your mind.

“Not a chance!” You laughed, standing your ground despite feeling pressured to do so.

“Together?” Danny offered, barely thinking about what he was doing as his fingers drifted over the fretboard. Your lips were stuck in a permanent smile, unable to feel anything other than happy while in their company. Eventually, you gave a roll of your eyes and a reluctant nod. “That’s my girl!” He exclaimed, playing the intro one last time before he led the three of you into the verse.

Nothing sounded bad when there was a promise of doing it together, and if he continued to refer to you as his, you would do anything he asked of you. Despite trying so hard to ignore the feelings constantly growing in your heart, you knew you were a goner—falling for him was the easiest thing you’d ever done, and it started long before he knew your name, the very minute you heard the echoing laugh and saw that breathtaking smile from the kitchen at the Fox.

June 6th, 2022

“That’s the abandoned school.” You pointed out the windshield, looking at Danny to ensure he noticed what you were referring to. The parking lot was crowded with overgrown trees and the building itself was hidden behind them. After years of no upkeep, the plot of land had grown wildly out of control. He slowed the car, peeking out the side window to get a better look at the scene. Then, without a word, he flipped on his signal light and pulled into the poorly maintained lot. “What are you doing?” You laughed.

“Exploring! Come on, Utah. Live a little!” He parked close to the brick building, looking over at you with a hopeful expression.

“There’s nothing to explore.” You explained, a lingering smile on your lips as you sipped away at the king can of Redbull in your hands. “Unless you find asbestos and debris fascinating.”

“There’s lots to explore—you just need to know where to look.” He said, ignoring your comment as he opened the car door and stepped outside. With a small sigh and a roll of your eyes, you stepped out to join him.

You walked around the car, grabbing his hand as you led him to the side of the building, knowing it was the only entrance that you could actually get through. The front and back doors were boarded up, but they forgot about the side entrance hidden by a few trees. What was once likely the service entrance for the maintenance crew and janitors, was now the only passage inside to admire the ruin of the place. Perhaps he was right; the charm had worn off for you because you’d seen the inside a hundred times, but to him, it was all brand new. You brushed off your lighthearted negativity at the realization, putting on a smile for him and making a promise to see it for the first time all over again, with him by your side.

Since meeting Danny, new beginnings and reimagined ideas had become the norm, and if you had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing in the whole world. In fact, it almost felt freeing.

You pushed open the door with your shoulder, using force to unstick the bottom tread from the eroded metal frame. The stale air from inside hit you in the face, musty and still damp from the thaw of winter into summer. You propped the door open with a rock on the ground, remembering how difficult it was to get the door open from the inside.

“Watch your step, Michigan.” You warned, pulling your phone from your pocket and turning on a flashlight. The place didn’t get much natural light between the lack of windows and the ones existing being covered with plywood. The floor was sticky, damp with condensation and covered in dirt and unknown substances leaking from exposed pipes. You made sure to find a clear path before he stepped inside, not wanting him to trip and fall.

“Woah,” Danny breathed, his eyes scanning the short, barren hallway that was cluttered with garbage. “Spooky.” You giggled at his reaction as you stepped forward, kicking away a few sheets of cardboard to clear the way.

“Stay with me, lots of shit to trip on.” You informed him, keeping a straight path down the hallway. The doors at the end had been busted open a long time ago, likely by kids who were often unsupervised by their parents. The top hinge of one of the double doors had rusted through, leaving it constantly open and hanging on an angle.

You felt Danny’s hand on your waist, his touch comforting as you helped him navigate the unfamiliar territory. You passed by a long row of lockers, some of the doors open and some still padlocked shut. The building was in much worse shape than it was the last time you were inside, and by the sight of crumpled sleeping bags in the corner, it seemed as though some of the homeless population had taken shelter inside.

“So what’s the story?” He asked, keeping a close eye on where he was stepping to ensure he didn’t trip.

“Not much of a story.” You chuckled, peeking your head into an empty classroom that was illuminated by a few rays of sun. “From what I heard, the building was in terrible shape when they built it. It was supposed to be a temp school until they could build a bigger, better one. The development got pushed back and the city got lazy, so they ended up using this for a few decades. Eventually, when the foundation began to crumble, they decided to shut it down and follow through with the original plan.” You recounted the tale as it was told to you, leading him into the room to look around. “Now by the looks of it, it seems like tent city has moved indoors. They keep saying they’re going to tear it down, but they can never find enough money in the budget, so people have been putting it to use.”

“Why would they tear it down if people are sleeping in it?” He asked, sympathetic to the situation but unfamiliar with the general outlook on homelessness.

You paused at his gentle ignorance, the statement forcing you to remember the differences between the two of you. He didn’t understand it like you did because he never had to witness it—and never had to live it. Instead of chastising him for his lack of awareness or responding with harshness, you thought it best to educate. It was the only way to truly make a difference.

“Right?” You gave a dry chuckle, your eyes scanning over the faded posters and art projects still hanging on the wall. “I wrote a letter to the city when they started pushing for the demo. I got signatures and everything, asking if they would reconsider their decision and transform it into a shelter for the unhoused population. Pretty sure they threw it in the trash and spit on it for good measure.” You tried to hide the scowl, but your distaste for the situation ran so deep that it nearly sickened you.

“You didn’t hear anything back?” He was shocked, almost making you laugh at his naïveté.

“I did,” you nodded, inspecting the bulletin board with torn pages still tacked to the cork. “But it was no more than a commendation for my effort and a slap in the face. They said that in lieu of the growing drug problem, they couldn’t possibly allow for such a system to be in place in an already struggling community.” You scoffed. “Like the drug problem hasn’t been this prevalent since the eighties. Like the problem doesn’t begin with poverty and homelessness, and mental health. Instead of addressing the root causes, they try and cover it up and pretend it’s not happening. They don’t care—they don’t want to help. They hope nobody speaks up against their ridiculous views and they silence them when they do.”

Silence hung thick between you for a moment longer than you liked, making you realize what kind of position you’d just thrown yourself in.

“You’re very passionate about this.” He noted, looking from the art on the walls to your stony face. You tried your best to sort your thoughts, to let him in just enough that he didn’t ask any questions but not enough for him to think too hard about it.

“I am.” You agreed, nodding slowly. “It’s hard not to be when it’s in my front yard and I see it every day. It’s hard not to be when I’m stuck in the same shitstorm as they are, praying to make it through tomorrow. I’m lucky enough to have a roof over my head, but just barely. I know that one off paycheck could have me out on the streets, too. They’re people, human beings with no house, no food to eat, no water to bathe or drink. I never understood how people could be so cruel, like the people living on the streets are less than human and don’t deserve a lick of kindness.” You worded your rant carefully, trying not to expose too much of yourself.

“I know addiction. My mother was the highest functioning alcoholic I’ve ever met, and my dad was a deadbeat who always chose getting high over his children. I left home to get away from it, and I ran so far I ended up behind it, staring at it from a different direction. Vin and Dylan are my best friends, but they’re barely 20 and their lives are ruined because of it. If they don’t change soon, they’ll spend the rest of their lives this way. I try to detach from it, to tell myself I’m fighting a losing battle, but I can’t. I can’t sit by and watch, knowing how close to home all of the issues are. I can’t stop talking about it, because I’m one of the only people who does. If I stop, maybe the rest of them will, too, and then nobody is advocating for the people who are hurting.”

He was learning things about you he started to believe you would never share, finding the soft spot for you growing tenfold as he listened to your words. He knew you were complex, closed off and focused on staying that way, but he was desperate to know you, the real you rather than the bright and shiny version you showed the world. He wanted to ask, to dive deeper, but he let you say whatever you pleased, promising himself to always listen to you. From what he gathered, it seemed like nobody ever had, and he would die happy if the last thing he heard was the sound of your voice.

“I’ll fight for it for the rest of my life, even if I die and never see change, because that’s who I am. I’ll fight for free healthcare, for affordable housing and accessible mental health facilities. I’ll fight for the food banks, for NA and AA programs, for improved social assistance, and for the justice system to take a step back from things it has no business controlling. We’re criminalizing and dehumanizing people who need help, people who turned to the streets and drugs because the world failed them. Not every addict is good, but they’re all certainly not all bad, and not every homeless person is an addict at all. There’s a family of four who lives in the alleyway next to my house, because they lost their house in a fire and didn’t have insurance, so they couldn’t afford to buy a new one, and subsidized housing fucked them over so bad they missed out on low income rentals. To overcome the problem, we have to fix it at the very root of the issue, not slap a bandaid on it and call it a day.” You paused, feeling your chest burn with indignity over the way people just like yourself have been treated.

He was stunned, speechless as he processed your words. Slowly, his hand raised to your back, a silent show of support over a topic he had never been well versed in.

He didn’t have to speak; in that moment, he had done more than you ever expected of him.

He listened, and he supported, without judgement and without questions, even if he didn’t know anything about your passion projects or why you were so passionate about them in the first place.

“I’m proud of you, Utah.” His words hit you hard, nearly causing you to double over in agony as the feeling of being appreciated ravaged you. You worked so hard, did so much and tried to put out so much good in the world to right the wrongs you did when you were a lesser version of yourself, and most of the time you received no encouragement or any kind of acknowledgment from the people around you.

Something he likely grew up hearing was a foreign language to you, something you were only lucky to hear a few times in your lifetime. He had no idea how good it felt to hear it, no idea how much it meant to you.

Maybe letting him in wasn’t so terrible after all. Maybe you had him misconstrued, and he cared enough to love you despite your struggle. Maybe for once, you had finally found someone more willing to give rather than take.

It was too soon to tell, but you were beginning to believe that Daniel was unlike anyone else in the entire world, that not only did he serve as a muse and a hero in your miserable story, but he was one who was committed to staying, rather than getting your hopes up only to leave you behind.

You couldn’t be certain, but you were eager to see if he truly was everything you hoped he could be.

June 14th, 2022- 6:57 PM

“Get in, Utah!” Danny exclaimed, splashing a handful of water in your direction.

“It’s cold.” You reiterated the same point over again, your toes barely touching the ripples of waves crashing against the shore. “It’s too early to swim.” It wasn’t too early to swim; in fact, the weather was fantastic, and you were just being stubborn after laying in the sun all afternoon.

The two of you woke up early with big plans; a road trip to New Jersey to spend the day at Long Beach, and he had booked the two of you a hotel for the night upon learning you had never actually stayed in one. The drive was fun, and the laughs were plentiful. You had never had so many good days in a row, but this was proving to be the longest streak in your entire life, all thanks to him. Sam was overjoyed at the idea of a night alone, to which neither of you inquired about, so you had the entire day and afternoon of the next day to yourselves, reveling in the joy of seclusion together.

You packed the car and set off, fingers intertwined together and your phone playing music over his speakers. The drive went by in a flash, leaving you in the lot of the (exuberantly) fancy hotel long before midday. You deposited your bags in your room, leaving them atop the king bed as you changed into your bikini and Danny lathered sunscreen over your shoulders. You grabbed lunch at the restaurant attached to the lobby of the hotel, checked out a few stores nearby, then made your way back to the car.

The beach was much less busy than you anticipated, giving you top choice at the best spots. You settled blankets a few feet away from the water, spending most of the afternoon laying between Danny’s legs as you flip-flopped between scribbling in your journal and getting lost in conversation. Eventually, when the sun began to sink in the sky and the population on the beach thinned down to you and a few other groups, Danny decided he was ready to get in the water, which you had been trying to avoid all day.

Though, you’d come to learn that you had an incredibly hard time saying no to him, and in this instance, the fact remained true.

“Never too early to swim, baby.” Danny brushed you off, ignoring your protests completely. “We drove for an hour to get here, you have to get in the water.”

“I’m getting there!” You snipped, feeling the frigid water reach your feet and fighting every urge to recoil. “You just have to give me a minute!”

“I’ve given you plenty of minutes.” He said, taking two large strides towards you. “All day, actually.” You stepped backwards, quickly getting away from him as you recognized the devilish smile on his face.

“Do not.” You warned, pointing your finger at him to stop him in his tracks. “Daniel!” You shouted, narrowly escaping him as he reached out to grab you.

“Utah, I’ve been waiting all day! Come here!” He bounded forward again, water splashing on your sun kissed legs and sending a shiver down your spine.

The softness in his face as he pleaded with you tugged on your heartstrings just enough to make you cave, and with a sign of defeat you relaxed from your rigid form. Not long after, he was in front of you, water dripping from his tanned skin as his curls stuck to his shoulders. The golden glow of the sun complementing his already breathtaking face nearly made you weak in the knees.

“Have you not learned to trust me yet?” He raised an eyebrow, refraining from touching you so you would come to him on your own accord.

“I do trust you.” You broke, the corners of your lips turning upwards as you looked over his face. He was intoxicating, so much so that it was impossible to think of anything other than him when he was near. Your mind was hazy, your vision blurring the background as you admired him, and you wondered how the hell you ever got so lucky to have him in your life.

“So you know I’m not lying.” He continued, stepping a little closer. Despite having just swam in the water, his cologne still stuck to his skin, mixing with the summery smell of sunscreen he reapplied not long ago.

He was fucking delicious, and he was making your stomach do somersaults without even trying.

“It’s not that cold—once you get in, it’s actually kinda nice. Promise, Utah.” He said, his hands reaching forward and pulling you into him by your hips. Although his skin was cold, it was offset by the fire burning in your belly that always ignited when he touched you.

“If you say so…” you whispered, hesitancy clear in your tone.

“I do.” You were close enough to him that your chest was pressed against him, ensuring he could feel your rapid heartbeat as you gazed up at him. Somehow, even after the weeks of spending every day with him, the giddiness never seemed to wear off. You were always excited to be with him, everything he did was electrifying and wonderful, making it impossible not to fall in—

No.

Love, although tempting, was not in the cards for the two of you.

“You know what’s even better than swimming?” You asked, a quick distraction to make him stop talking about it.

“Hmm?” He asked, his eyebrows knitted together so delicately you barely noticed it. He was watching you carefully, not willing to miss a single detail of the moment with you.

Instead of verbally responding, you leaned forward, a hand on his bicep and the other on the back of his neck as you pulled him down to meet you. Your lips landed on his, the saltiness of the water still lingering on his skin, making your heart race even faster. For a moment, the world seemed perfectly right, calm and peaceful, like nothing in the universe could ever hurt you again. Sometimes, when the world quieted down like this and you let yourself truly feel the beauty of being in his arms, his company made up for every bad thing that ever happened before.

“Yeah, this is better than swimming.” He conceded, his voice low and husky as he processed the surplus of emotions coursing through him. “Do it again though, just to make sure.”

“Of course.” You giggled, your eyes twinkling as you pulled him in for another kiss. Ever so gently, you felt his teeth graze your bottom lip, pulling it between them and applying a slight pressure. You melted into his touch, the pit of your stomach ablaze with desire for him.

When he pulled away, he let his forehead rest on your own as he swallowed back the urge to take it any further. Your nose brushed against his, a droplet of water running from his face on to your own. Carefully, you reached up and swiped it away, seeming to remind him of where you were and what you were doing.

“Swim with me, just for ten minutes. Then, we can go back to the hotel.” He bargained, knowing he would crack if you even suggested going back to the hotel straight away.

“Fine,” you huffed, giving in far too easily when he smiled at you. “But I want to take your picture first. You look really pretty right now.”

“P-pretty?” He stuttered, his cheeks turning red as soon as the word slipped off your tongue. You let your thumb drift over his still-wet skin, giving a slight nod and a soft smile.

“Very.”

With that, you turned and walked back to your blankets a few feet away. You rummaged around in your bag and found the disposable camera Sam had graciously donated to you a few weeks prior. He told you that it was imperative that you caught the memories on film, to which you had no argument.

You and Sam had formed an unusual friendship during your elongated (and free) stay at their Airbnb. Sometimes, in the early morning while Daniel was still deep in sleep, you found yourselves conversing in the kitchen over nothing and everything all at once. He was unlike anyone you had ever met before, a slight pretentious air surrounding him but never concerning anything that truly mattered. Below the surface he was a sweetheart, surely the nicest and kindest soul you had ever had the pleasure of knowing, and for no other reason than to simply be kind. He was funny, albeit a bit loud, and so genuine and accepting that it made your head spin sometimes. You showed certain parts of your soul to him that not even Daniel could reach, solely because he had a way of prying it from you without you even realizing it.

He was yours and Daniel’s biggest fan, and he wasn't shy to show it. In fact, it appeared like he was more invested in the label on your relationship than you were. He didn’t mind you imposing on the slightest, and even took it upon himself to invite you into their lives in many different ways, whether it be advice on a lyric or encouragement to visit them in Nashville.

He was the most unexpected ally of the entire, odd situation you’d found yourself in, but you were so grateful for his presence that it didn’t seem to matter.

You snapped a few photos of Daniel, taking a moment to admire his features as the sun continued to sink lower in the sky. Without a second thought, you tossed the camera back in your bag and sent him one, challenging glance.

“Last one in pays for dinner!” You shouted, catching him off guard as you took off in a sprint. Before he’d even registered what you said, you were nearing the water, and even once he did, he only started a slow jog.

You were racing because there was no way you could afford dinner, and he let you win because there was no way he’d ever make you pay to begin with.

𓇢𓆸

June 14th, 2022 - 8:38 PM

Freshly showered and wearing a sundress you had no idea you owned, you walked hand in hand out of the restaurant and bar branching from the lobby of the hotel. You were slightly tipsy, the pitcher of sangria you shared with Daniel taking more of a toll than you realized while sitting down. Your cheeks were blushed, your smile seemingly permanent as he led you to the elevator nearby. You watched as a group of people filtered out, dispersing in different directions without as much as a second glance at the two of you. Danny whisked you inside, quickly pressing the button for the top floor as you waited to see if anyone else would be joining you for the ride.

Eventually, the doors slid shut, locking the two of you in there by yourselves. You turned to him, your eyes heavy as your gaze scanned him as a whole, scarily similar to a predator and its prey. He was wearing a simple white button down and fitted black jeans. He had chosen a new cologne for dinner, one you’d never noticed him wear before. It was musky, strong hints of sage and cedar, and it was driving you wild.

“Thank you for dinner.” You whispered, your voice thick with emotion as he caught your eye.

“You don’t have to thank me for anything.” He assured you, sliding a hand to your hip as he pulled you closer. You couldn’t help but notice the gravitational pull towards him, like the universe was pushing you straight into his arms and giving you no other choice. You settled comfortably in the nook of his arm, your chest pressed against him as his hand grew dangerously close to your ass.

You could see it in his eyes, too. The alcohol had taken a quick effect after a day spent in the sun, leaving him a bit more courageous than he usually was. His head was turned down, watching your face as you stared up at him. It was in that moment, the slightly inebriated and overtired man realized the truth of the situation; he was absolutely smitten, head over heels for you and for far more than what you had to offer behind closed doors. Weeks of constant company and endless memories had left him feeling exhausted in the best possible way, and worse than that, teetering on the edge of the emotion you had both been trying to ignore.

You couldn’t chastise him, because the liquor had you pondering all of the same ideas.

“You sure about that?” You asked, raising your hand to his chest and gently running your fingers over the soft material of his shirt. The light touch, even through the fabric, sent a shiver down his spine. “There’s nothing I can do to thank you?” Your hand trailed down his chest, tickling over his abdomen and finally stopping just above the buckle of his belt. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, swallowing hard as he watched desire begin to cloud your eyes.

“Well, when you put it that way…” he trailed off, the hum of his voice rattling his chest and in turn, your own. Feeling confident, you dropped your hand a little lower, your fingertip grazing over the metal teeth of the zipper on his jeans. You could see the muscles in his jaw tense, and you could feel his hardening length already. Your actions were not helping his situation, but they were definitely helping your situation.

You gave him a little smirk, pushing your luck a little further, but all it seemed to do was push him over the edge. His free hand came up to cup your cheek, giving you little time to react before he was leaning forward and capturing you in a kiss. Your stomach twisted with need, the ache between your legs growing tenfold as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. He tasted sweet, fruity just like the drink you finished off moments before, and it was driving you mad.

Although the entire day was filled with fun, wholesome memories you would cherish for the rest of your life, you’d been waiting for this.

With little shame, he guided your hips into his own, giving him little to no relief and only crazing him more. You raised your hands to his neck, your fingers tangling in the hair that laid over his shoulders as you held him closer to you.

If you had it your way, you’d let him have his way with you right then and there.

Just as you let a moan slip into his mouth, the elevator came to a halt and a sharp ding sent the two of you away from each other. You turned your head, looking at the floor number as you realized it was not your stop. When the doors swung open, Danny grabbed you by the hips and positioned you in front of him, just in enough time to remain concealed as another hotel guest stepped inside.

Your heart raced, beating against your ribcage with a fervor as you leaned back into him. Your ass met perfectly with his hips, and his cock strained against his jeans only made you resent the poor man who was just looking to catch the elevator.

Thankfully, his stop was before yours, and he saw himself out almost as soon as he stepped inside. When the two of you were alone again, it didn’t take long for Daniel’s hands to go wandering. He reached around you a little further, his fingertips resting on your stomach as he slowly slid his hand upwards until it landed just below your chest.

“You think we could get away with fucking in the elevator?” Clearly, he was on the same train of thought as you were, spiraling further as you pushed your hips backwards on him.

“Probably not, considering we almost got caught already.” You giggled, feeling his hand cup around your braless breast, only the thin material of your dress separating you from him.

“Worth a shot though, right?” You could hear the smile in his tone, wondering how he made it so easy to feel so carefree. You felt like a horny teenager, excited at the prospect of living for the first time and unbothered by any consequences. He brushed your hair to one shoulder, leaning down and pressing his lips to your neck. At the same time, his thumb traced over your hardened nipple, both sensations working together to turn you into a mess.

“You can wait the three extra minutes it takes to get to our room.” You said, your words breathy as his tongue traced over a sensitive area of skin. Your eyes fluttered closed and your stomach twisted in a knot, making you wonder if you could wait the three extra minutes.

“Normally, yes.” He agreed, humming the words against your burning skin, slick with his saliva. You tried not to think too hard about it in fear of losing all self control. “But not when you look this fucking good. Not when you act like this.” He said, noticing the movement of your hips just like you hoped he would. You could feel his heart thrumming in his chest, making the display all the more intimate as he held you close to him.

“Can’t take a little heat, Daniel?” You tried to chastise him for it, but the whine that followed your statement made you look like a fool.

“If I remember correctly, you started this, not me.” He reminded you, pulling the top of your dress down to expose your chest. The chill of the AC was a shock, but he didn’t take long warming you back up with his hand. The feeling of his skin on yours was even more euphoric, only worsening as he began rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Seems like you want to get yourself in trouble.”

“Daniel, we can wait. Seriously.” You tried again, but it was no use, you were too far gone and he wasn’t open to discussing the matter any further.

“Where’s the fun in that, Utah?” He teased, his fist already beginning to bunch up the fabric of your knee length dress. “Wonder if that stop button will sound an alarm…” he trailed off, his eyes settled on the bright red button, devious thoughts filling his mind.

“Yes, probably.” You rolled your eyes, unable to believe he was truly considering the possibility.

“Only one way to find out.” He shrugged, dropping his hand from you and sliding out from behind you. You grabbed his forearm, stopping him before he could move any further away, a look of warning in your eyes as he grinned at you.

“Where’s your sense of adventure, baby?” There was a condescending tone in his voice, but you knew he didn’t truly mean it. Still, it irked you beyond belief as you dropped your hold on his arm.

If he wanted to take the chance, he could take the responsibility if you got in trouble.

Even if his cocky attitude was getting on your nerves, you couldn’t deny the wetness pooling between your legs from his actions. Besides, you were in a town where you knew nobody and would likely never return to. The thrill the idea gave you was enough to pique your interest, and as his finger settled over the stop button, you no longer felt any need to argue with him.

The wine definitely wasn’t helping your poor judgment, but you figured however it went, you could deal with the consequences later.

Right now, the only thing you cared about was getting his hands on you again, and the walk to your room seemed far too long to endure while needing it so intensely.

The two of you held your breath as he applied pressure to the button, your eyes locked with his as you prepared for the shrill sound of an alarm. You felt the elevator come to a stop, making you lose your balance ever so slightly. Gripping on to the rail tighter, your stomach twisted with anxiety. After a few seconds passed and silence remained, you both let out an audible breath of relief.

Without any further thought, you sprung forward and wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands found your hips, pulling you closer as you pressed your lips to his. This time, you had no fear of interruption and your hands grabbed the collar of his shirt, so far gone you were tempted to tear it straight from his body.

“Better be quick if you don’t want to get caught.” You breathed, squeezing your eyes shut as his lips attached to your neck. He sucked a mark into the skin below your ear, his large hands sliding backwards as his palms cupped your ass. You felt a whine slip through your lips, nearly embarrassed about how desperate you were for him and how easy it was for him to get you there.

“That’s up to you, baby.” He corrected, his fingers gathering the soft cotton of your dress as he pulled it upwards. The chill of the air on your legs only furthered the ache between your legs, reminding you of how risky the situation was. Although you had always been rebellious and impulsive, this side of you did not exist until you met him. “If you’re good, we’ll be back in our room in no time.”

He pulled your dress up over your hips, his fingers dusting over the smooth skin of your thighs. He trailed them upwards, ready to taunt you with a snap of the elastic band of your underwear, but seemed to freeze in place for a moment. On your hip, where it usually sat, was bare and telling of the mischief you were hoping to cause.

“Fuck, babe.” He hummed, looking down at your face through his dark lashes.

“You like it?” You flashed a sickly sweet smile, using one hand to hold up the skirt for him. His hand moved between your legs, his middle finger wasting no time running through your folds and gathering your arousal. He trailed it up to your clit, tracing slow circles into the already sensitive bundle of nerves. Your legs quivered as you felt a pull of pleasure deep in your stomach. “Did it just for you.” You forced through your teeth, already lost in the sensation and trying your best to keep your composure.

“You shouldn’t have.” He smirked, noticing your eyebrows furrowed together as he applied more pressure. “You’re too good to me.”

“I can be nice sometimes.” You sucked in a sharp breath, all of the tension that had been building all day finally having an outlet.

Watching him, shirtless on the beach was almost too much to handle, but you persevered until dinner, where he only seemed to want to torture you more. He dressed up, an expensive looking watch on his wrist and a shiny gold chain around his neck. The ring on his middle finger drew attention to his already captivating hands, making it hard to ignore the picture in your mind of his fingers closing around your neck.

The wine had clouded your mind, leaving you lightheaded and making your normal anxieties flee you completely. The entire evening spent in the restaurant left your fingers intertwined with his, or on his knee below the table, gently tickling his jean-clad thighs. Even your legs were intertwined, and you seemed to gravitate closer to him the more that time passed.

Silently, you’d been begging him to take you back to your room all night, and now you couldn’t handle another minute without him.

“Since you were so nice, I suppose it would only be right if I was, too.” He bargained, his nose brushing over your shoulder as his tongue grazed your collarbone. Your skin was littered with goosebumps, your head swirling with thoughts pertaining only to him.

“God, you make it sound like a chore.” You snipped, feeling his teeth gently close over the flesh of your shoulder.

“Not a chore, no.” He muttered a disagreement, his middle finger still keeping a steady pace on your clit. “I enjoy it quite a lot, actually.” At that, a nervous flutter erupted in your belly, making your cheeks burn red and your heart beat a little faster. It was difficult to comprehend anyone being kind to you, but kindness from him was even better than anyone else’s. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he wanted to be with you, to be around you—he wanted you, and you had no idea why.

Even if you didn’t understand it, you certainly weren’t protesting it.

“Here, baby.” He nudged you back towards the wall, closing in on you until your back pressed against the cool surface. Without any further hesitation, he dropped to his knees before you, wasting little time as he guided your leg over his shoulder.

“Oh, fuck!” You gasped, feeling the warmth of his mouth connect with your aching core. Your posture slipped slightly, your entire body melting into the feeling as his tongue swirled around your clit. You felt him smile against you, floored by the immediate reaction and eager to keep up the momentum.

Your hips bucked forward against his tongue, the friction gentle enough so not to overwhelm you right away, but just enough to give you the relief you were searching for. A high pitched moan filled the tiny space, echoing off the metal panel walls and contained behind the heavy doors. For a moment, you forgot where you were and what you were doing, focused solely on feeling one with him.

There was something so profound about the two of you that it made your head ache and your bones heavy. You wondered why it took so long to find him, and more importantly, why it couldn’t last forever.

The knowledge that he would be leaving haunted you, infiltrating every dream and waking thought, consuming you every second of the day. After twenty three long years of misery, you were finally comfortable, and more than that, happy. It felt like two decades spent wandering aimlessly finally landed you in the right spots, that the mistakes you made didn’t matter and the scars you collected could fade rather than stay red and angry forever.

However, you knew that the peacefulness that came with his company was bound to end no matter if he packed up and left or stayed in New York forever, for he did not know the truth about the woman he was falling for. In fact, he hardly knew anything at all.

You wanted to let him in, to show him the jagged edges and daunting faces of all the monsters in your closet, but you were afraid. Being bright and shiny was difficult, and pretending things were perfect was hard, but showing him your innermost struggles was even worse. You had given him pieces of you that you never intended to hand out, and even if he handled them with care and caution, you worried he might not do the same if he knew everything.

You were privy to the fact that your past was hard to digest, mostly because you still struggled to swallow it down. You longed to bare your soul to him, to give him all of you, mostly because you had never done it with anyone else. It was hard to carry it around on your lonesome, and sorrowful to constantly feel so isolated. You wanted to share it with him not because you needed help with the weight of it, but because he was the only person you could trust with it.

Still, you feared it would send him running, and cutting your time shorter than it already was seemed agonizing.

But you could let him in a little, right? Show him some things, but not enough to reveal yourself too much?

The thought was tempting, and the more days that passed, the more comfortable you felt about doing so. You just wished that he would continue to be around, to be in your life even when he was far away and living a completely different lifestyle. The thought of telling him such things and then returning to strangers made you sick, which ultimately forced your hand in the matter, locking up all of the things you came a little too close to sharing.

After all, you were friends. No more, no less.

Very close friends—closer than anyone who ever came before him.

Friends who fucked. A lot.

And friends who slept on hotel beds with rose petals and shared bottles of champagne. Friends who drank a little too much wine at dinner and let the sparkle in their eyes shine, showing more emotion than they should for the label they put upon themselves.

God, what a mess.

A beautiful, intricate, life changing mess.

Your hands tangled in his curls, the softness of his hair on your skin comforting as pleasure twisted your stomach. You wanted it so bad your limbs were aching, locked and trembling as he continued to use his tongue to push you closer to the edge. You were shamelessly riding his face, your hips moving with no intent to slow. The pleasure took precedence over shame, and the feeling he was giving you was too strong to resist.

You needed an orgasm, so badly that you managed to push all other thoughts out of your mind, which was something you had never been good at. Perhaps the idea of people waiting for the elevator, wondering what was taking so long and almost willing to report the issue at the front desk, was forcing you to remain focused.

Either that, or how good he was making you feel quickly outshined any other worldly trouble you could think of.

“Come on baby,” Danny pleaded, pulling away just enough to talk you through it. He let his thumb take the place of his tongue, not daring to slow down the momentum as he looked up at you through locks of his hair. Your expression was telling of all that you were feeling; your eyebrows knitted together and your lips parted as whiny moans filled the air. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were clouded with lust. “Being so good for me. Don't make me wait any longer.” He caught your eye, the glisten of your arousal on his chin making the knot in your belly tighten even further.

You were a mess for him, and he was keen on keeping it that way.

He returned his mouth to you, the warm wetness of his tongue a million times more enjoyable than the rough pad of his thumb (though, you’d never been picky, especially when it came to him). He let out a hum, pleased just from the taste of you on his lips. You watched his face, delirious from the sight of his beauty as you wondered how you got so lucky.

You didn’t have to wonder for long, because the knot in your belly snapped under the tension, leaving your legs weak and your mind blank as you descended into your climax. Your fingers tightened around the locks of his hair, your body slack as you tried to push your weight against the wall to keep you upright. He had a hand on your hip, his fingers bruising the skin as he used his strength to help you, never wanting you to fear falling so long as he was by your side.

His name slipped past your lips, sung like a hymn and washing down over him like summer rain. Never in all of his years on earth had it ever sounded so beautiful. He wished you could scream it from rooftops, speak it until your lips turned blue and your lungs deflated from a lack of air. He never wanted you to stop saying his name, no matter if it was selfish of him to think so.

He worked you through the high, attentive until the very last second. Your legs relaxed, still wobbly as the height of the pleasure passed you by. Your heart pounded against your ribs as you sucked in a long breath, regaining some of your senses as he parted from you. Your mind was still hazy as he moved your leg from his shoulder, standing slowly as he kept a firm hand on your hip.

With little help from you, he spun you around and pulled your hips backwards ever so slightly. Tired and still fighting the effects from the wine and the lingering orgasm, you pressed your cheek against the cool metal panelling and let the temperature sooth your burning skin. You heard the metallic clang of his belt buckle as he freed himself from his pants, a whole new rush of emotion flooding you just at the thought of what was to come next.

You wiggled your hips back towards him a little further, silently showing him you were eager for him to continue. His hand ghosted over your ass, a long inhale sounding from him as he admired the scene before him. You swallowed your insecurities, knowing that he viewed you much differently than you saw yourself, but still self-conscious as you felt his eyes rake over you.

“Fuck me, please.” You whispered, a slight quiver in your voice as you tried to draw his attention elsewhere. “Please, baby.” You continued, hoping he could feel how badly you needed him from your words alone.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He crooned, his voice low and gravelly as he lined himself up with your entrance. The action sent your body into overdrive, feeling yourself clench around nothing as you anticipated the feeling of him being inside you.

He pushed his hips forward, letting out a hiss of pleasure at the feeling of you wrapped around him. The stretch was slightly painful, but you couldn’t help but focus on how perfect it felt, like the two of you were made for each other.

“God, you feel so fucking good, Y/N.” Danny’s posture faltered slightly, his top half leaning forward into you as he gave in to the pleasure for a moment.

“S’all for you, Danny.” You promised. Although there was a lack of labels on the two of you, there was no doubt that you were one-hundred percent his, and he was yours. The fact alone was freeing, liberating you from your torturous mind and for once, giving you a breath of hope that the next fifty years did not have to be the same as the previous twenty.

The thought twisted your stomach, forcing a plethora of other things to swarm your mind. For the first time in your life, you could see seventy, and not in some miserable, shrouded state of you hunched over in a rocking chair, still angry about the choices you made as a teen. You pictured seventy with aching lungs from laughing and crows feet by your eyes from smiling so much, grandkids around and begging you to tell stories of how you met their grandfather.

The grandfather in question was not some random old man who you would encounter years from now, but the very same man who stood behind you now, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Seventy did not seem uncertain and unappealing—for the briefest of moments, you felt a shred of joy at the thought. Excitement, even.

Troubles would come to pass, but never destroy you as they had in the past, because you believed with Daniel by your side, you could conquer every bad thing and kick any lingering habits.

But he was leaving, and you were friends.

He would not be by your side when you had gray hair and wrinkles. He would not shout loudly over a blaring television to catch your attention because the years had greatly depleted your hearing. He would not share wisdom and stories with your grandchildren, because he would not even be here when the year came to an end. A few months from now, he would be packed and ready to head to Nashville, ready to make an even bigger name for himself without you to hold him back or tie him down.

In three months, you would not even be a passing thought in his mind. You would be nothing, equated to a summer fling that served just enough purpose to keep him company and ensure he was not bored.

If you were just friends, a fling with no strings attached, why the hell did it hurt so bad?

“Where’d you go, bug?” Danny’s hips slowed, concern thick in his voice as he reached up and brushed the hair from your face. With worried eyes, you looked back at him over your shoulder, your stomach twisted with sadness as the warm brown of his irises seemed to stare straight into your soul.

“I’m okay,” you breathed, blinking hard as you tried to bring yourself back to earth. The ache in your chest was still very much alive, but seeing his face made it ease indefinitely. “Just feels so good.” You weren’t lying, because it did feel good. You were just withholding the truth about your mental absence, which to you was much different.

“You sure?” He asked, not fully believing you and always hyper-aware of your comfortability.

“Promise, baby.” You gave him a soft smile, leaning a little further back and pressing a kiss to his lips. At the feeling, his hips pushed forward automatically, showing you how little it took to drive him crazy.

Maybe he felt it, too.

You pushed the thought from your head, knowing it would serve no purpose to feed into a delusion. Instead, you let yourself live in the moment, just the same as you had been since the day you met him. When he began a steady pace with his hips again, it was much easier to let go and move on from the sick feeling in your stomach.

“Ah, fuck.” You whined, letting your forehead rest against your forearm. “Better hurry up, honey. Wouldn’t want to get caught.”

“Let someone catch us.” He hummed, gathering your curled hair in his hand and wrapping it around his closed fist. He pulled your head backwards, his lips settling just over your ear as he added more force to his thrusts. “One look at you and they’d know why I couldn’t wait any longer.” At the sound of his words, your eyes squeezed shut and your walls fluttered around him, pulling him in even further. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck and you rocked your hips backwards into him, desperate for more than he could give.

There was something about him, so intoxicating and alluring that it made all of the fear go away. Your normal apprehension, your new found need to think twice, all seemed to disappear as soon as you were near him. It was almost as if nothing else mattered so long as he was beside you, because the only thing that made any sense was being in his company. With him by your side, you felt like you could do anything.

“God, you’re so tight.” He hissed through his teeth, also seemingly lost in the euphoria of being inside of you. He didn’t care if he got in trouble, because every second spent with you was worth any kind of risk. “Feel so fucking good like this. Does it feel good, baby? Want to hear how good it feels.”

“Feels good.” You reiterated his point, a strangled cry leaving your lips as you felt him brush against the sensitive spot he knew so well. “Could stay like this with you forever.” You confessed, your moans growing louder and more intense as he continued at the same pace.

“Think I like the sound of that.” He chuckled, reaching one hand around your hips and settling his middle finger over your clit. “My beautiful girl, just like this, forever.” He crooned, reiterating your point as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled under the weight of your body, both sensations sending your body into overdrive and making it difficult to stay upright.

“Danny,” you warned, your voice weak as euphoria began to creep in on you. The tingle began in the very tips of your toes and fingers, quickly snaking up your limbs and wrapping around your torso. You felt light, the pleasure pulsing under your skin and behind your eyes. You tried your best to resist it, but you knew it was no use.

“Cum for me, baby.” He encouraged you, just as far gone and ready for a release.

It didn’t take much convincing—with one last thrust of his hips, you were pushed over the edge and were sent spiraling once again. His name fell from your lips amidst a slur of curses and raspy cries. He raised one hand to your mouth, clamping it over your lips to silence the sounds begging to escape. As much as he would have liked to listen and commit all of them to memory, he knew it was best not to draw any more attention to your current situation.

Before you came down from the high, he was reaching his climax too. You rode out the last of the pleasure as he spilled his release inside of you. He leaned forward, his chest flush against your back as he let out a long breath, the tail end of it resembling more of a whine. You felt yourself clench around him, the sound producing a whole new immortal desire within you. Before you let it get any further, you shook the thought from your head and returned back to reality.

Danny’s arms snaked around you, squeezing around your torso as he held you close. He wasn’t ready to part ways, to end the moment that left him so blissful and calm. You relaxed into his touch, figuring another minute wouldn’t hurt anything. Eventually, he placed a kiss to your shoulder blade, his nose brushing against your skin and sending butterflies erupting in your stomach and chest. Carefully he withdrew himself, taking a step back as he let your dress fall back to your knees. You straightened up, your cheeks turning crimson as you squeezed your thighs together. The lack of underwear seemed like a cheeky choice at the time, but now it was biting you in the ass. With a knowing smirk on his lips, he buckled his belt and adjusted himself in his pants, then reached forward and pressed the emergency stop button. Within seconds, the elevator began to ascend to the top floor as if nothing happened at all.

“Better hurry back to the room, Utah. Wouldn’t want to make a mess.”

𓇢𓆸

June 14th, 2022 - 11:43 PM

Tired and no longer tipsy (but a bit stoned from the joint Danny provided), you were curled up under the comforter on the king bed. The television was playing reruns of a sitcom in the background, but neither of you were paying attention to the corny jokes and cheesy laugh tracks. Instead, your legs were tangled delicately with Danny’s as you laid on your side, your head resting comfortably on the fluffy pillow below you. He was close to you, also on his side and facing you with one hand draped over your waist. His eyes were heavy and red, a permanent upturn of his lips sending butterflies erupting in your stomach every time you thought of it for too long.

He was tracing shapes into your skin, his touch featherlight and tickling you further every time he moved. Your hand was hovering over his arm, your fingers doing the same as his. The moment was filled with intimacy, just like the rest of the evening so far. Since returning from dinner, you’d only left the bed twice; once to share a joint on the patio attached to the room, and Daniel left to get concessions at the front lobby to stave off the midnight munchies. Other than that, you had stayed wrapped up in him and cherished every second you had alone with him.

Conversation was limited, the day filled with activities leaving you both exhausted. The weed was no help, and every time the television went quiet, you felt the lull of sleep draw your eyes closed for a moment. You forced them back open, deciding that time spent with him was much more important than sleep, especially knowing that it was limited.

You were so full of emotion it felt like your chest would explode, and you were having a hard time swallowing it back. You were certain he could see the sparkle of admiration in your eye, telling him more than you were willing to give. You wished to let him in, the thoughts that came to you in the elevator still plaguing your mind and only ever growing louder the longer you ignored them. You were still afraid, in a constant back and forth battle with your own mind, and it was relentless.

The haze from the high left your guard down, and the sleepiness was only worsening the situation. Would it be so bad? You didn’t have to tell him everything. Opening up wasn’t the worst, especially knowing he would keep it just as safe as you would. Besides, he had proven he was a good listener, and you thought he was the only person in the world you could share a piece of your soul with and not come to regret it.

Oh, to hell with it. You were tired of always holding back, tired of living halfway instead of fully. You wanted him to know you, so what was the big deal? Even if he was leaving, even if he would become a stranger again in the future, you knew deep down that you wouldn’t regret it. He was the only person in the world you ever wanted to see you as you were, rather than the mask you put on for everyone else.

“You know, I’ve never really had anything like this before.” You whispered, your voice raspy from the smoke and sleepiness.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his tone gentle and intrigued. He gave a soft smile, happy that you were willing to offer any kind of personal details. He knew you were reserved when it came to sharing your story, so he waited patiently in hopes you would eventually feel comfortable enough to do so, and now it finally seemed to be paying off.

“I don’t know… like this. Us.” You explained, finding it difficult to phrase. You didn’t know exactly what you were, aside from being messy. “I didn’t have many friends growing up… and the ones I did weren’t really friends, I guess. Never had someone care like this before.” You swore you saw his eyes twinkle at the recognition, but you tried not to focus on it. When you did, it only made your stomach do somersaults, and you were still trying to convince yourself there were no feelings involved in your relationship.

“Tell me more.” He urged, tracing hearts into the bare skin of your hip. Your heart raced at the touch and the idea that he wanted to know you genuinely, rather than just on the surface.

“What do you want to know?” You giggled, pulling the blanket a little tighter to your chest.

“Everything.” He breathed, his eyes trailing down to the fabric squeezing against you, noticing the spill of your breasts from the taut material wrapped around you. “Whatever you want to tell me.”

“Well,” you started, brushing your hair from your shoulder. You felt the strands tickle your back as they fell behind you, but you paid no mind to it. “I didn’t have the best upbringing, I s’pose. My dad was never around, n’ my mom was… my mom, I guess.” You let out a stale laugh, the sound seeming far away as the weed continued to work at your mind. “That’s a story for a different day. My brothers and I stuck together, thick as thieves because we only ever had each other to rely on. God knows nobody else would do it, ‘cept my grandparents, but they were old and tired. Think they always wanted to get us out of that house, but they knew they couldn’t afford it. Besides, they knew they would never win a fight against my mom. Nobody could. Just the way she is.” The conniving, evil, narcissistic bitch that she was. You kept that thought to yourself, not wanting to make it too heavy on him.

“We grew up in a small town, so everybody talked. Everyone knew everyone's business, even if they shouldn’t have. Think because of that, lots of people had this preconceived notion about us three based off what our parents were like, which isn’t really fair, but I can understand it now. They told their kids to stay away from us, which made it hard to have any kind of social life. Once we got older, things changed a bit and some people came around, but I almost wish they didn’t.” You chuckled, pausing to see if he was still listening. It was hard telling him half a story, especially when you wanted him to know everything, but you knew it was for the best. Maybe someday, but definitely not yet.

“I didn’t have any true friends. We were more like partners in crime, always getting ourselves into trouble and then laughing about it later on. My brothers tried really hard to warn me, but it never really stuck.” You explained, periodically checking to see his reactions to your story. His face showed nothing other than a desire to listen and learn. You thought about your old friendships and relationships, finding parallels to your life now and wondering if the cycle was caused by you, or the universe trying to punish you. “Boyfriends too, I guess. Not like I ever had any real relationships either, but the ones I did were a waste of my time. I got in with the wrong crowd, and it fucked me up more than I ever thought it could.”

“I don’t think you’re fucked up.” Was all he said, catching your eye so you knew he was telling the truth. You gave a sad smile—he didn’t think you were fucked up because he didn’t know. Once the truth came out, you were sure that outlook would change.

“So I’ve never had this.” You changed the topic, avoiding his sweet sentiments like the plague. “Someone who cares, who listens, who wants to be around. Never had someone look out for me like you do… whatever we are and whatever that means.” You have a wry smile, saddened from the thought of not being anything more.

“We’re lots of things, Utah. For what it’s worth, all of those things mean a hell of a lot to me.” He whispered, wording his response carefully so he would not scare you.

“Earlier, in the elevator… It got me thinking about a lot of things. ‘Bout us, more specifically.” You let your eyes close, taking in a long breath to sooth your tight chest. Anxiety was riddling your entire body, and not even the high could satiate the feeling. Being open and emotional was hard for you, but for him, you wanted to try.

For the first time in your life, all you wanted to do was try.

“Like?” He pried a little further, wanting to know what you were thinking about, wondering if it was the same things he was thinking about.

“I want you to know me, Danny. Like, really know me, not the surface level shit I give to everyone else.” You confessed, knowing the only reason it was so easy was the effect of the drug coursing through you.

“So let me.” He smiled, relieved you felt so comfortable with him. Your face fell slightly, your chest burning with sadness as you swallowed the lump stuck in your throat.

“It’s just… it’s not so easy. When we first met, you asked me if everything was a long story, and I laughed it off at the time, but it’s true. Everything is a long story, and it’s a hard story to tell. My life has been anything but boring, and for all the wrong reasons. I want to tell you, I just can’t do it yet, and I don’t know when I’ll be ready.”

“Okay.” He hummed, his thumb reaching soothing circles into your skin. “Tell me whatever you want, whenever you’re ready. I won’t pressure you, and there’s no rush. I like being this person for you, Utah. The one you can trust, the one who looks out for you… I want to keep being that person, as long as you want me to be.”

“I’m scared.” You whispered, catching his eye. The warmth in his stare made the world seem okay, but you feared you could not trust it. You didn’t know how to trust anything, and that was your biggest flaw. “I don’t want it to make you look at me differently. I don’t want to scare you.”

“Then we’ll work on it together. Start slow and then we’ll go from there. I’m not going anywhere.”

Oh, how you wished it was true.

“Start slow?” You asked, pushing the end of the summer far away from your mind. You had to enjoy him while you could, and you felt deep down that part of enjoying him included being vulnerable with him.

“As slow as you want, baby.” He promised, giving a gentle nod.

“Okay.” You spoke so quietly it was almost hard for you to hear yourself, but he waited patiently for you to keep going. You wondered where to start, what you could say to let him in just enough to reap the benefits but avoid the consequences. Figuring it was the easiest, you started with you and him, and why you were so reserved about loving him.

“You know, I say that we’re friends a lot… I know that whatever this is, whatever we are, is more than friends, even if we don’t have a label on it. I don’t want you to think that it’s because I don’t want to be more, because I do, I just don’t know how to be.” You explained, choosing your words carefully. “I have this undying desire to love people, and to take care of them. I don’t know if it’s because I genuinely want to, or if it’s an easy way to avoid doing it for myself. I do all of the motions, do everything a girlfriend should but I run away when I think about a label so serious. Vincent kind of threw it in my face the other day, and I know it was because he was hurting about something else, but it really made me think about it.”

“How so?”

“I commit myself completely, and then I throw the friend label on it as if it lessens my commitment somehow. To me, friends sounds better, because I don’t know what a real relationship is or how it works. Maybe I’m trying to protect myself, convincing myself that it will hurt less when it ends —and that comes back to me always expecting everyone to leave when things get tough.” You shrugged, finding yourself tracing the stick and poke sun on the back of your hand. It was a nervous tick that you’d coined not long after rehab, and you did it subconsciously more often than not. You wondered if he was judging you, if he was too nice to say that you were crazy, but when you allowed yourself to study the look in his eye, it was nothing but sincere.

“Growing up, my parents didn’t teach us a whole lot, and what they did wasn’t good. A lot of fighting, a lot of blame, and even some violence.” You chuckled, even if the situation was not funny at all. “They taught us bad decisions, how to avoid accountability, and lots of other stuff, but never love. My parents were together on and off until I was ten, and when they were on, they should not have been. Never loyal to each other, and they were fucking miserable on their lonesome and even more so when they were together. Eventually, when my dad left for good, my mom got together with a guy who was worse than my dad, which I didn’t even think was possible. We didn’t have a fuckin’ shot.”

You braced yourself for sympathy, already regretting telling him because you knew what you would receive, but it never came. Instead, he remained stoic, the corners of his lips dipping down into the tiniest frown as he studied you in silence. Then, quiet and gentle, he spoke.

“It’s crazy how life works, sometimes.” He started, hoping he wasn’t deterring your desire to share by giving input. “How someone so fantastic has to endure something so terrible, how someone so precious came from something so hard.” You sniffed away a tear that sprung to your eye, your chest burning from his sweet words. You wondered if he knew everything, would he still view you in such light? Or would your darkness become too much and taint the radiance that was him? “You know, learning all this stuff doesn’t change how I feel about you, Utah. What happened before doesn’t change who you are now, and that’s the person I love spending time with. As much as I hate knowing you’ve been hurt before, it would never change how I think of you.”

“There’s so much shit, Danny. So much you don’t know… so much I’m not sure I want you to know.” You argued, a tear slipping down your cheek as you squeezed your eyes shut. Your chest ached, your stomach sick as you pictured the look on his face when he finally learned all of the pieces to your twisted little jigsaw puzzle of a life.

“So what, Utah?” He gave a soft smile, reaching up and swiping away your tears with his thumb. For a moment, the pain in your heart was replaced with warmth, making you wonder how he always made it so easy to fall further for him. “Everything that happened made you into the person laying beside me right now. To you, it seems ugly, but to me… it’s just a story. We all have one.”

“You always know what to say, huh?” Feeling more tears flood your cheeks, you wished you could disappear and turn to dust, for the mattress to open up and swallow you whole. You didn’t want him to see you like this, but you knew if you were going to open yourself up to him, he’d be seeing a lot worse than some tears and a broken heart. It scared you, but at the same time, it made you feel lighter than ever before.

Nobody had ever been so calm, so accepting of your feelings and your faults, but there he sat, ready and willing to listen and take whatever you had to offer him. He was the best thing this world had ever known, and you were sure of it. As much as you were grateful, you also wondered what you did to deserve him, almost fearing that there was something he was hiding that would offset the beauty of his existence.

‘No, Y/N.’ You stopped your train of thought before it could progress any further. ‘Apple Juice—not the big complicated mess.’

If you continued searching for a flaw, you would end up creating them all on your own, ruining something good for no real reason at all. It was your best trait, but you couldn’t stomach the idea of inflicting that fate upon him. He deserved more, and because of that, you were determined to be more, to be the person he deserved to have.

“It’s not a bit or an act, Y/N. It’s the truth. I haven’t and I would never lie to you.” He said, still wiping away tears as they fell. You weren’t sure why you were plagued with so much guilt at his confession; you hadn’t lied to him, but you had withheld the truth. Was that the same thing to him? To you, it wasn’t, but maybe it was just a poor justification for your shitty actions, for your need to keep him in the dark.

But he knew there was stuff you were holding back; you had been more than open about that, and he was choosing to stay. He would make his own judgment about the situation when the time came, but he refused to start this relationship with you with preconceived notions and ideas about a person he hardly knew.

He was so much better than you, and every day that passed only further proved that.

“If being friends is easier for you, that’s okay, Utah. I don’t need a label to be secure about how I feel about us.” He promised, his thumb drifting over your still damp cheek as a soothing gesture. “If calling ourselves friends and still doing whatever we’re doing makes it so I can be with you, I’ll take it, and I’ll be happy about it.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be more, Danny. I truly am—you deserve the world, and since the day I met you, that’s all I wanted to give you.”

“You give me so much more than you know.” He whispered, the softness of his tone paired with the loving actions making it impossible to keep your eyes off of him. “Whenever you want to tell me more, I’ll be here, ready to listen. Hopefully, when you’re ready, I can show you something different, that I’m different. That I want to be here and help you, and that I’m not going anywhere. We’ll take it at your pace, baby. I’m happy as long as I’m with you, no matter what we’re doing or what we are.”

It was hard to focus on his sweet sentiments, especially when he continued to promise that he wasn’t going anywhere, even whilst knowing the end of the summer would mean the end of the two of you.

If he had never and would never lie, why was he promising himself forever when you both knew your relationship had an expiration date?

June 28, 2022

Your phone ringing loudly on your bed beside your head woke you with a start. With blurry eyes and an aching head, you turned the screen to see who was daring to disturb you. You blinked a few times to allow your vision to focus, and your previous annoyance disappeared in an instant. You hit accept and pressed the speakerphone option, immediately hearing the whir of traffic on the street in the background.

“To whom do I owe the pleasure, Michigan?” Sleepiness was laced in your tone, a lazy smile on your lips as you heard him chuckle.

“Just wondering if you’re up for a few visitors? Should have texted before we came, but I got ahead of myself.” A touch of guilt filled his tone, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“You’re always welcome here.” You assured him.

“Great. We’re downstairs.” He informed you. “Wanna let us in?”

“Yeah—give me five and I’ll be right down.” You breathed, throwing the tattered old blanket from your legs and sliding out of bed.

“No rush.” He assured you, a smile clear in his tone.

“A little rush—“ Sam’s smart remark was cut short, a groan sounding from him instead. You assumed Daniel’s fist collided with his arm, his protective nature growing tenfold when it came to you. “See you soon, Utah!” Sam recovered quickly, replacing his earlier sentiments with a cheery tone.

With that, Daniel ended the call, leaving you staring at the notifications on your Lock Screen but not fully registering them. You rushed to the bathroom, quickly brushing through your knotted hair with one hand as you brushed your teeth with the other. You applied some mascara and lipgloss after washing your face, and dabbed on a touch of blush on your cheeks. Once you were satisfied, you ran back to your room to change. You picked out an old cropped tank top and a pair of jean shorts that were a tad snug around your hips. Since getting sober, you noticed some weight begin to return to your body, which was as uplifting as it was motivating.

You weren’t sure why the two were at your apartment so early—the night prior, you and Daniel had spent most of the evening lounging on your couch as you watched Netflix (his, of course) on your laptop. When darkness took to the sky, he sadly informed you he had to head back to the Airbnb, without an invitation for you to come with him. You thought it was odd, especially considering you hadn’t spent a night apart in weeks, but you didn’t pry. Instead, you took the opportunity to work on your novel without any distractions or disturbances, which allowed for you to make a whole lot more progress than you thought you would.

You left your front door open, knowing the other tenants of your building wouldn’t dare go in (it wasn’t like there was much to steal anyway). Most were too old to leave their house, and the others were too strung out to know where they were. The remaining few stragglers were either at work or not home. You rushed down the stairs, seeing the two patiently waiting at the front door. With a smile on your face, you lifted up on the handle and pushed it open, allowing them to step inside. Before they had a chance to greet you, a leashed Rosie ran to greet you, her tail wagging happily as she sniffed at your hands.

“Hello, sweet girl.” You grinned, giving her some attention before you turned to the two boys. “And hello Daniel and Sam.” You added.

“What, no nicknames for us?” Sam feigned offense to your greeting, clearly teasing.

“Right, sorry.” You chuckled, as if you had forgotten completely. “Hello Dumb and Dumber.” You corrected yourself, stifling a laugh as Sam’s lips turned down into a frown.

“First one was better.” He deducted.

“What’s all that?” You asked, motioning to the bags in their hands.

“Let’s go upstairs and you’ll find out.” Danny said, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Can I help?” You asked, reaching for a bag. He retracted his arm, giving a slight shake of his head and soft smile.

“Don’t worry about it, Utah.” He hummed, nodding to the stairwell. With a shrug, you led them back upstairs.

Before you passed through your front door, you paused in your tracks, noticing a white plastic bag hung on the handle, black sharpie marks scrawled on the front of it. Your eyebrows furrowed as you slipped it off, wondering how you missed it on your way down but not spending too long dwelling. You let the boys in first, a nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach as you watched Sam’s eyes take in the surroundings. He’d yet to step foot into your building, and you wondered if he would be as accepting as his best friend, or if he would pass judgment like so many others would have.

You closed the door behind you with force, shaking the knob to ensure it latched shut. You flipped the lock, noticing it was stuck and refusing to work with you. With a huff of annoyance, you shoved your shoulder against the hollow wooden paneling, using your body weight to hold it shut as you twisted the deadbolt. Finally, it clicked in place and you eased up on your shoulder, looking to the other two who weren’t even aware of your struggle.

“I love these windows, Utah.” Sam stared in awe at the large panel windows of your living room, casting rays of golden light through the entire apartment. Overlooking the mold growing on the waterlogged sills, he went straight to the style of the glass. “Very Victorian.” He commented, his eyes trailing to the art hanging on the walls peeling of their paint.

“Well, thank ya.” You smiled, noticing the seriousness in his tone. They didn’t see you as some poverty stricken struggler. They saw their friend, who lived in a worn down apartment complex that still had some breathtaking elements despite its flaws.

They were too good for you, and you felt horrible for placing blame on them for something they would never do. Since the day you met them, they had never made you feel lesser for your lifestyle, even if it was different than theirs.

Maybe you just needed to hear someone else’s appreciation to find some of your own.

“What’s that?” Danny asked, raising an eyebrow as he sat the surplus of bags down on your kitchen table. He was referring to the little bag held in your hand, which you seemingly forgot about amidst your anxious thoughts.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, looking down at it yourself. “Not sure. Let’s see.” You said, pulling it towards your face. At the rustle of the plastic, Rose’s ears perked up and she trotted over to join you, hopeful for a treat.

“Here, Rose.” Sam called out to her, reaching in his pocket and grabbing a bone shaped biscuit for her. He tossed it to her, and she caught it in her mouth with little hesitation.

You turned your attention back to the bag, noticing the word ‘dollface’ scrawled across the thin plastic. You knew it was from Vincent and Dylan, but you had no idea what it was or why they dropped it off. More than that, you wondered why they didn’t knock and come inside. You gave them your spare key way back when you started working at the Fox, knowing quickly that they were the only ones you trusted with it. They shared an apartment close by, which meant that if in peril, either one of them could make it to you within minutes if need be.

You untied the top, peering inside with furrowed eyebrows. You grabbed a pack of Marlboro Reds, wrapped in plastic with a shoelace tied around it as a makeshift bow. Alongside it were two joints rolled to perfection encased in a small ziplock bag to keep them safe. A few messily drawn hearts decorated the clear plastic, bringing a small smile to your face. There was a napkin and a small piece of what looked to be receipt paper inside, so you pulled them out too, just to see what it was all about.

On the napkin was a small, handwritten note that was signed by both of them.

sorry we couldn’t aford anythin better doll. happy birthday we love ya! here late last nite didn’t want 2 wake you. cya thursday

Dyl and Vin

The small piece of receipt paper was in fact not a receipt, but a voucher from one of the slot machines at the Pony. It was redeemable for 31.78, which was a whole hell of a lot in Dylan and Vincent’s opinion.

Wait—birthday?

Hastily, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, tapping on the screen to see what the date was. When the white letters stated it was in fact June 28th, you felt a wave of dread wash over you. Not only was it your birthday, it was also your least favorite day of the whole year. Already exhausted just from the thought of surplus of calls and texts from people who cared little about you, you began dreading the yearly Facebook post on your wall from your mother in which she raved on about how much she loved you and how proud she was of you, only to neglect to actually call you or care about you. To her, it was important to maintain outward appearances, even if she had always been your worst enemy and biggest bully.

On top of that, you were twenty-four. Not that you were aging and withering away, but you were sickened at the thought of another year passing you by and having nothing to show for it. No accomplishments, no celebrations, no progress. Another year that left you just as dejected as the last, making you wonder if the rest of your life was destined to be the same things over again in one, relentless, mind numbing cycle.

“It’s my birthday.” You let out a dry chuckle, slipping your phone back in your pocket as you sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth. “I forgot.”

“Really? It’s your birthday? We had no idea.” Sam giggled, finding your forgetfulness amusing. “How’d you forget about your birthday when we didn’t, Utah?” From anyone else, you might have blown a fuse at the lighthearted jokes poking fun at your hidden traumas, but from Sam, it was oddly funny and aided you in pulling yourself from your misery.

“It’s not my most favorite day.” You gave a soft smile, placing the bag from Dylan and Vin on the table after tossing the items back in. “Never really celebrated it when I was a kid. If my mom let me go to my grandparents house we did, but she usually wasn’t that nice.” Sam gave you sad eyes, which made you avert your gaze to the floor. “Most of the time it came a couple days after, the next time we went to my grandparents house. Then they’d have a cake or whatever.” You explained further, trying to lighten the mood.

Even after you moved out of your mothers house birthdays were never anything grandois. The first year, you spent at your eldest brother's tiny apartment where you were so poor you couldn’t even afford the power bill. Eventually, your addiction got too out of hand and you left to spare him from the worst. You spent a year floating around on couches and shelters, and one at your ‘boyfriends’ house (he was a dealer and the house was a trap). The fourth still in Utah, you spent at the Pinnacle Recovery Centre, where they gave you a cupcake and decorated the common room.

Your first one in New York was spent at the Pony, which got you in more trouble than you ever expected. You originally went to cash in the voucher for the slots Vin and Dylan gave you that year, but got caught up in the cheap drinks and company at the blackjack table. Your ‘winnings’ consisted of a dime bag, which made for a wonderful gift. A night spent in the detox box and a surrendered key tag made you vow to never celebrate your birthday ever again.

“Well, this year, that’s going to change.” Sam assured you, taking a seat in one of the rickety chairs at the table.

“Guys, you don’t have to—“ you began to protest, but Danny held up his index finger to cut you short.

“We want to.” He said, a tone of finality in his voice. “Maybe after today, you’ll change your mind.”

“Guys, this is too much.” You whined, crossing your arms over your chest, plagued with guilt at the idea of them spending so much time and effort on a day no different than any other. “It’s just a birthday. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s your birthday, Utah.” Danny corrected. “It is a big deal to us—to me.” Your cheeks turned red, your eyes glistening with unshed tears.

How did you ever get so lucky?

“Besides, you can’t say it’s too much, ‘cause you don’t even know what it is yet.” Sam pointed out, which was fair. At the same time, you’d come to know them quite well, and you knew for a fact it was too much. “Start us off, Daniel.”

“Right.” He nodded, carefully picking the first bag from the pile of them. “See, I wanted to stay here with you last night, but if I did, I wouldn’t have been able to surprise you with breakfast.” He smiled, flashing you the inside of the bag, which was filled with takeout containers. “And I needed Sam’s help with some stuff.”

“Yeah, he didn’t actually invite me. He used me for hard labor and felt too bad to drop me off at home.” Sam rolled his eyes, joking but not all at the same time.

“Whatever.” Danny rolled his eyes, brushing him off completely. “You remember that restaurant we stopped at on our way to Jersey? The one with the huge waffles?”

“Danny, you did not!” You exclaimed, overwhelmed with joy at the thought of how much he cared for you.

“I did.” He grinned. “One waffle for Utah, on her birthday.” He sat a container out in front of an open chair. “And some other food too, but I remembered how excited you were when you ordered it, so I couldn’t help myself.” He scattered the rest of the takeout containers around the table, grabbing paper plates and forks.

“You’re the best, Michigan.” You whispered, your eyes sparkling with glee as you bargained with your own happiness.

It was the first time in twenty four years you had ever felt so loved (or loved at all for that matter) on your birthday, and it was all thanks to him.

“It’s what you deserve, Utah.” He replied, just as hushed as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Then, he pulled a chair out for you, taking place next to you once you were settled.

Breakfast was fun, lighthearted and sweet. Danny had picked you up a king can of Redbull, remembering that it was your favorite, and they had gotten coffee to go from the restaurant they retrieved breakfast from. After about an hour passed, filled with laughs and smiles, you couldn’t force yourself to eat another bite if you tried. They asked you about your novel, to which you told them how good writing was going after it seemed like you were stuck at a dead end. After nearly two years, the end was just out of reach, but still attainable.

For once, life was good. Writing was great, your free time was never boring, and your addiction had never been so far from your mind. You didn’t want to accredit it to Danny completely, but he served as a fantastic distraction from life’s normal routine and trouble. After the confessional at the hotel, it left the two of you closer than ever, happier than ever. He finally felt like he was breaking through the walls of defense you had built so high, and you finally had someone you could trust.

The only downfall was that you were falling further and harder with every second that passed.

You wanted to tell him more, to keep explaining bits of your past you never cared to share with anyone, but you were taking it slow. You’d always been impulsive, jumping the gun and getting yourself in trouble, and although you didn’t think this was the same, you still wanted to err on the side of caution.

When the morning began to bleed into the afternoon, the boys took it upon themselves to get on with the next birthday festivity.

He searched through one of his bags, pulling out a few different things after urging you to keep your eyes closed. You heard the crinkle of packaging plastic, then felt him step closer to you. After a few moments of nothing but rustling plastic, you felt him place something on top of your head, then urged you to open your eyes.

When you did, the first thing you saw was an expensive looking cupcake, taken from a half dozen container sitting just off to the side. There was one candle stuck in the middle of it beside a little topper that read ‘happy birthday’. You looked across the table to Sam, who had a cheap cardboard party hat from the dollar store sitting lopsided on his head. You looked at Danny as you reached up to see if he’d placed one on yours, too. He had a goofy smile on his lips, the thin elastic holding his hat in place only making the sight all the more funny.

He leaned forward, igniting the wick of the candle with a cheap gas station lighter. Before you had a chance to speak, the two began singing a dramatic and drawn out rendition of Happy Birthday. You couldn’t begin to express your gratitude—your eyes were brimming with tears, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe as you felt Danny’s hand on your shoulder. For once, the tears were not because of sadness, or a feeling of being forgotten. Instead, you were overwhelmed by the surplus of love being thrown in your direction, unable to comprehend the kindness of their actions.

“Make a wish, Utah.” Danny whispered, his lips hovering over your ear as he spoke. The warmth of his breath on your skin sent a shiver down your spine, sending your mind swirling with thoughts of him and only him.

You did as you were told, leaning forward with a smile on your lips as you closed your eyes. You needed no time to think, knowing exactly what your wish was as soon as the breath left your lips to extinguish the tiny flame.

You wished for the boy behind you, and every good thing he had brought to your life since walking into it. More specifically, you wished he never had to leave.

You opened your eyes, forcing yourself out of the dreamlike state as you pictured a life with him always by your side. You were greeted with a kiss on the cheek from Danny, and a whoop and a holler from Sam.

“What’d’ya wish for?” Sam asked, his eyebrow raised as he watched you pull the candle from the top of your cupcake.

“Can’t tell ya, or it won’t come true.” You bargained with the pain that came from realizing it would never come true anyway, no matter if you kept it secret or not.

“Yeah, s’pose you’re right.” He hummed, leaning back in his chair with a defeated nod. You gave a soft smile, pulling away the parchment wrapper lining the bottom of the cupcake.

“Thank you guys… for everything. This is… it’s fantastic. It’s more than anything I’ve ever gotten.” You spoke gently in fear your voice would crack and the tears would finally make an appearance. Thankfully, you’d been able to swallow back all that dared to threaten you thus far, and you were intent to keep it that way.

“Days not over yet, Utah.” Danny reminded you, giving you a long lasting sinking feeling in your stomach. You could never repay him for what he’d already done, and he was planning for more?

“And it’s not that much. Cake was supposed to be homemade, but as it turns out, we are not very good at baking.” Sam informed you, taking a bite from his own cupcake. At that, you let out a small giggle, already picturing the two of them covered in flour and arguing over ruined cake batter.

“It’s so much, Sam.” You corrected, ensuring they knew how appreciated they were.

“Well, one more thing from me and I’m out.” Sam slapped his palms against the table, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Then you and your lover can have some alone time.”

“No more!” You exclaimed, panicked at the idea of receiving anything else. Guilt was already eating you alive, and you were sure if any more was added atop of what you were feeling, you would crack under the weight of it.

“Oh, quit!” Sam exclaimed, laughing at your stubbornness. “If you haven’t noticed, Utah, we love you.” He stood calmly, reaching for a gift bag as if he hadn’t said the most earth shattering words in the entire world.

They loved you.

After all the bad they’ve seen, the tears and the struggle, the impoverished lifestyle you led, they didn’t care. They thought you had enough good to outweigh all of the bad combined, and so much so that they had surpassed the threshold from simple friendship to something stronger.

And damn, you loved them too.

Even if you didn’t want to.

Even if it was easier not to.

You loved them, and so much so that you were almost unable to picture a life without them.

Out of all the things in the universe, that scared you the most. You were resilient, independent and strong, and you never once needed anything from anyone. You had let yourself grow a soft spot, or a weakness more likely, without even realizing it. Normally, it would make you want to run and hide. Usually when things meant so much to you, you tried to detach, just so it wouldn’t hurt as bad when it inevitably disappeared, but you didn’t want to this time.

For the first time in your life, you let yourself truly and genuinely be loved, no matter the consequences.

You could worry about those later—for now, you never ever wanted to let it slip through your fingers.

“In my opinion, this is the best part.” Sam hummed, his eyes drifting towards Daniel.

His appearance was nervous, his fingers drumming against the edge of the table as he nodded along in agreement. He turned his head towards you, offering a soft smile as he spoke a wordless conversation with Sam. The other boy seemed to catch on to his drift, picking up a neatly wrapped box with a bow on the front from one of the bags.

Before any more words were shared, Sam placed it in front of you, then grabbed another wrapped item, this one thin and much smaller. You looked between the two, your stomach twisted in knots as you already began to worry about the money the two spent.

“Happy Birthday, Utah.” Danny whispered, his features soft as he swallowed hard. “Those are from me.”

“Danny…” you whispered, concern knitting your brows together as you silently objected to the act of kindness.

“Open them, baby.” He responded, dismissing your unspoken point entirely. “You’ll love it—I know you will.”

“I have no doubt about that. I just… I feel bad.” You expressed your opinion on the matter.

“No need. I wanted to.”

He wanted to.

Since the day you met him, he continued to show you that he wanted to do more than anyone else ever had, and he was still committed to it months later.

“It doesn’t matter which one you open first.” He said, ending the conversation so you couldn’t argue any further.

Your eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, but eventually turned to the two packages in front of you. When was the last time you had a real birthday gift? One bought with care and consideration, one in which was curated for your taste only (as much as you appreciated the cigarettes and joints, you knew that was the same gift the boys gave to everyone). Maybe, the last time you’d ever torn wrapping paper off a box or pulled tape from a shiny bag plastered with color was when your grandparents were alive. Possibly even before then, because in later years they stuffed cards with cash, and upon learning about your addictions, gift cards for groceries and clothes.

With their help, you were reliving a childhood dream you only got to participate in every now and again.

For that alone, you were forever indebted to them.

You reached forward, settling on the smaller of the two gifts. You let the tip of your finger run across the thin piece of tape holding the paper together. You peeled it back, the coloured paper underneath it lifting with the adhesive. You folded it back once you freed it from the tape, your heart skipping a beat at the familiar tan colour of the item inside.

With a new found bout of excitement, you flipped it over, tearing the rest of the paper away from it as you did so. You nearly jumped from your chair as you tossed the wrapping to the ground, your eyes studying every detail of the abstract picture. The bright yellow and blue of the lettering caught your eyes, and your hand raised to it as you gently traced over the words like you used to do so long ago. The red lips standing prominently underneath them brought a smile to your face. Slowly, you turned to look at the man who wasn’t technically your boyfriend or your friend, and understood that he did not need to be either of those things, for he was the best thing that had ever happened to you, the most important person in the world, no matter the label.

In your hands was a brand new copy of Steely Dan’s Can’t Buy a Thrill, the plastic wrapping still shiny and perfectly intact as it waited for you to spin the familiar melody of Dirty Work.

“You remembered.” You forced the words through your teeth, your throat scratching as you wheezed in a breath. Holding back your tears was becoming more difficult by the second.

For some strange reason, you wished he didn’t.

It would have made it easier to overlook the bond that had formed between the two of you.

“Keep going.” He urged, not wanting to dwell too long when there was more sitting in front of you.

You moved onto the bigger box, knowing exactly what it was before you even tore the paper from it. Underneath the fancy bow and wrapping, sat a brand new record player that likely cost him a pretty penny.

Your stomach filled with lead, your bones heavy as you sat with your own thoughts for a moment. With no way to stop it this time, you felt tears flood your cheeks, angry and vengeful for being repressed for so long. You raised the back of your hands to your eyes, the coolness of your skin soothing to you as you drew in a shaky breath. Without thinking twice, you pushed your chair backwards and sprung forward, taking the few steps towards him. He stood to meet you, noticing your distress and worried that he overstepped.

When you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest, shamelessly loving him and unafraid to show how much it meant to you. Your tears stained his t-shirt, but he assured you he wasn’t bothered by it as he held you tighter to him.

“I’m sorry if it was too much, I just wanted—“ you cut him off by pulling away, staring up at him with watery eyes and a smile as you nipped the thought in the bud.

“Don’t you dare apologize.” Your statement was strong despite your quivering lip and dry throat. “You don't have anything to be sorry for. This is… you are… Danny.” You breathed, tripping over your words as more tears spilled down your cheeks. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. You’re the best thing…” you trailed off, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you swallowed back a sob. You didn’t need to say it aloud, because he knew exactly what you meant. Instead of replying, he pulled you into a tighter hug, happy to know the tears were not from sorrow, but from happiness.

“Alright, alright.” Sam cut the two of you off. You both looked over at him, smiling as he nudged his gift bag towards you.

You stepped forward, wiping your cheeks as you pulled at the tape holding the bag together. It popped open with ease, giving you the freedom to look inside. First, you pulled out another record, the tears making an immediate return as you looked at the cover.

“Bringing It All Back Home?!” You exploded, another sob shaking your shoulders as you hugged it to your chest. You felt like a child on Christmas morning, high on sugar and the feeling of being alive while sorting through gifts laced with magic from Santa himself.

“Aaand?” Sam raised an eyebrow, nodding towards the bag again. Cautiously, you set the vinyl on the table and reached back inside, pulling out one last record to top it all off.

“Harvest…” the yellow cover that was so distinct sent a smile straight to your lips. “I seriously can’t believe you remembered I said all this. It was so long ago, and so unimportant.”

“Nothing is unimportant when it comes to you, Utah.” Danny placed a hand on the small of your back.

“Seriously… thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me… it’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done… the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” You were beside yourself with emotion, your chest aching from all of the love you held within it.

“One last thing from me, Y/N.” Sam added, pulling something unwrapped from the bags beside him. He handed it across the table, watching as you pieced it together and waiting for your response. You grabbed it from his hands, the cool leather immediately sending a shiver down your spine. Wordlessly, you flipped it open, in awe of how well made it was. “I saw it when we were out today, and it made me think of you. You probably have lots, but when you get to that one, at least you’ll think of us. Maybe it’ll even give you some motivation on the hard days. Someone as talented as you should never stop writing.”

“Sam, this is the most beautiful journal I’ve ever seen.” You assured him. The black, leather bound journal was hefty, heavy from its size and astonishingly beautiful in its simplicity. It was big, many more pages than any of the ones you already owned, and it was even better because it came from him, one of the truest and most genuine friends you had ever had.

You placed it on the table, quickly scurrying towards him as you pulled him into a hug. Your tears had become less aggressive, but were still steadily rolling as you laid your head on his shoulder. Perhaps one of the best things about falling for Danny was gaining a friend like Sam, because you’d never experienced anything like it before.

“Thank you so much.” You whispered, your eyes closing as you enjoyed the brief moment of intimacy.

“Can’t think of anyone who deserves it more.” He promised you. “You make him so happy, Utah. You deserve people who make you happy, too.”

You held him a little tighter, touched by his sentiments but stuck pondering the same question that would ultimately eat you alive; would you still make him this happy if he knew the truth about you? Would they still think you were so fantastic if they learned of all of your mistakes?

You wanted to say yes, to be certain that two people as wonderful as them would love you no matter what, but it was very hard to believe.

Hopefully, by the time the facade faded away, they will have grown to care about you enough to look past it, to accept you as you are and let go of who you were, just the same as you had to do (and still continue to do).

Or, better yet, you hoped that maybe they would be gone before you ever had to expose yourself at all.

No matter how much you loved them or how different life seemed, you were still the same person they met at the diner all those months ago, even if you desperately wished you weren’t.

TAGLIST: @imleavingyoufornewyork @itsafullmoon @bladenotblaze @jessicafg03 @dont-go-home-without-me @peaceloveunitygvf @torniturntomyarrow @lostoverseer @clairesjointshurt @jordie-gvf @lallisonl @smoking-jakelane @gretavangirlie @hollyco @aintthatapity @dont-go-home-without-me @demonrat444

[mscordonean]

Steely Sylus

[silent-sanctum]

✧ Polaris ✧ - Jotaro x Reader

PART 8: LET ME DOWN SLOWLY

— The previous parts of the fic can be found in the pinned post of my profile. Hope you enjoy! —

word count: 7.6k

tw: panic attacks, implied attempted sexual assault

You had to keep yourself together to not let one mistake get the best of you.

But through the lies your subconscious wants you to hear, you knew there was an extent to which you were able to convince yourself with those thoughts. And admittedly, it was close to its breaking point.

Try all you could but you couldn’t mute the faint piano music playing faintly in the back of your mind, the paranoia of a murderer lurking in the shadows, the reminders of blood shed from the corpses of your family, nor the visages of a twisted version of your narcissistic mother haunting your waking dreams.

The further you went on this trip to stop the root of all evil and put yourself in peace, the more your past kept resurfacing to torment and eliminate one of the Crusaders or worse. God forbid you involved the others into your struggles.

The last thing you wanted was to see betrayal or disgust from their eyes, staring at you at the discovery that you harbored one of DIO’s agents inside you, waiting to strike. If you could, you would’ve just suggested leaving the group but that would’ve just sparked more questions that pried into information that was too personal.

And you wouldn’t be able to provide a sufficient answer either way with the heavy fog your subconscious placed making you forget the past that happened.

You kept to yourself as the group gathered and continued on after your run-in with Steely Dan. The journey resumed in a vehicle Mr. Joestar bought where everyone crammed in as he drove forward to their next designation.

Wanting to occupy the front seat was the first thing you suggested the second the old man brought the car up. The last thing you needed right now was men pressing against you, the feeling of unwanted touch still lingering from before.

It was fortunate that most of your companions didn’t notice your subtle increase in anxiety, more so when you still had bits of your remaining confidence on show for them to see. Even if they did, none of them took it further than a simple “you okay?” from Pol or Mr. Joestar, or a “you’re not hurt anywhere?” from Kakyoin or Avdol.

The same couldn’t be said for Jotaro.

The one person who was more observant than the others. The same person who witnessed your first spurt of violence out of a mix of self-defense and anger. And the first friend to get hurt by your blind rage. It could only get worse from there.

You’re aware of the cut that now lined his cheek underneath that band-aid and you didn’t have it in you to bring it up to him now. He’s upset at you. He doesn’t like people who hurt him and his friends. You thought back to when you nearly broke Kakyoin’s wrist due to a nightmare you had.

You did that. You hurt them. You tried to snap yourself from spiraling further, but it was hard when you could feel his icy gaze on you, reminding you of what happened.

It’s been a few hours since then and you haven’t been able to look or talk to the delinquent.

Maybe you would soon but you doubted it would be sooner.

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You were being quiet and refused to be near him, and it made Jotaro uneasy.

In any other scenario with another person, friend or stranger, he wouldn’t mind it. He’d appreciate it even. But when it came to you, he grew accustomed to your lively aura and thrived off of it as if it filled in some sort of lack inside him. It was because of you that he was able to have a first taste of what’s it like being a best friend to someone.

It felt nice, warm, and fuzzy deep down. He grew to like and appreciate your many ramblings, countless teasing, and startling displays of affections.

And to have you mirroring what he is- quiet, held back, deep in thought, avoidant… didn’t sit right with him. Were you still shaken from what that fucker did to you? Blaming yourself for the cut on his cheek?

Jotaro wasn’t mad at you. To his knowledge, he didn’t show signs of being upset. You choosing not to interact with him made him confused more than anything. He’d look at you occasionally from the side, hoping you’d at least talk about your feelings to someone else if not him.

But again, you were too stubborn and chose to remain silent, preferring to isolate.

You talked less, distanced yourself from the group little by little, forced smiles that became less convincing than the last, hesitated sharing thoughts more, flinched when someone would call your attention, and chose to sleep in a place where you’d be far from the group.

All those restless nights, paranoid glances, and quick dismissal of negative feelings... Beneath your optimistic mask and throughout the trip to Egypt, you slowly deteriorated from the inside-out and Jotaro still didn’t know why.

And as much as he didn’t want to get involved in anyone’s life, he wanted to help you.

But how could he when you wouldn’t even spare a glance at his direction nor can he find the right timing to approach you without making you more uncomfortable.

Fuck. I’m so bad at this.

Jotaro, through the best of his ability, did what he knew could make you feel a bit better. He thought back to when he’d bought you a bag of snacks and meals when you hadn’t eaten that day and remembered vividly of the sight of your beaming smile. On a pit stop, he’d join Polnareff and buy some snacks for the trip with the adult carrying a heftier bag for the guys, while the other had enough to suffice for just him and you.

Without looking, Jotaro repeated what he had done then and offered the plastic bag to you with a low “I heard your stomach growling” statement, but instead of a surprised exclamation or stunned gratitude, a tight-lipped smile and a brief, simple “thanks” was all he got in return.

In another attempt, the delinquent would try and be the one to put more effort to stay by your side. He’d suggest that he’d be the one accompanying you whenever and wherever the group had to split for a moment. Maybe by doing this, you’d recognize that he didn’t hold any grudges or ill-feelings towards you and you’d be able to let out a portion of your worries onto him.

But you didn’t engage with him. You wouldn’t talk to him, tease him, or blurt out a random trivial fact about something. You wouldn’t even look him, only staring elsewhere with an almost paranoid, distant gaze.

Jotaro grew frustrated. At you for your current behavior? At himself for being a shitty friend? “Hey,” he started. “If you have something to say, say it.”

He’d regret not being able to control the tone of his voice when your posture turned rigid, smiling apologetically. “Ah uhm… It’s nothing really. No worries.”

“Stop lying. You’ve been unusually silent throughout the trip. You’d think I wouldn’t notice?”

You frowned, insulted. “And so what if I’ve been quiet? Can I not be chatty for once?” You said, looking at him with an edge to your demeanor. “Don’t you like it when I’m not annoying you or pissing you off with my bullshit? Wasn't that the reason why you’ve called me a ‘bitch’ in the first place?”

Jotaro winced, his hands clenching in the pockets of his pants and chest throbbing with guilt. It’s not like that. You’re not annoying me. I like listening to your stories. I didn’t mean to- I’m… There were many lines that stirred in his head that wanted to come out to explain his immature actions. But none wouldn’t come out. He knew he tended to convey them often sounding like a complete asshole.

So all he could do was duck his head and shy away from you.

You nodded, solemn. “That’s what I thought. You don’t have to pretend you liked hearing my ramblings. I’ll let you have the piece of quiet you want.” You turned on your heels and walked ahead, leaving the delinquent by himself.

I’m sorry.

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You didn’t want to say those hurtful words to your friend, but was it hurtful when he knows it’s true? Besides, you wanted to get as far as possible from the others with how increasingly unstable your anxiety became.

By making Jotaro frustrated at you, he’d harbor an inkling of dislike towards you and then he’d be pissed enough to leave you alone, sparing him the risk of getting another injury from your hands.

But everything you’ve been doing recently dealt taxes on you- having to minimize interactions with your friends, restraining your Stand from making an appearance as much as possible, trying not to focus on the piano music haunting your every second or the killer just waiting in the corner.

And the nightmares that never failed to pull you back into the past every time you shut your eyes:

“Welcome back princess. You’re surprisingly early for today’s lesson-”

“That’s because you brought me here against my own will. Like you always do.”

No matter how many times this have reoccurred, you’d always find yourself back in the cold interior of your old family manor with the same polished monochrome tiles and marble walls. What changed in each was the scenario.

It was different with each nightmare, none pleasant. You were compelled to stay in a solitary meeting with faceless figures with grins etched on their blank heads, to dine in a dinner set in the gardens where the stalker would lie, to force yourself to read dozens of books where if you’d look away for a second, a scream would terrorize you may it be anger from your mother or pain from someone familiar.

Your uncle? Father? Brother? Or a random stranger?

This night brought you to the music hall where that damn piano resided, occupied with none other than the ebony woman perched on the seat, ruby eyes staring you down as you stiffly stood underneath the doorway. It didn’t have to touch the cursed instrument for it to start playing the same melody on its own.

Empty chairs made up the remaining space in the middle of the hall.

“Why do I have a say in your actions?” The feminine Stand crooned. “You walked here by yourself. Stop denying that you missed your singing lessons princess because I know how much you liked the attention-”

“I don’t even fucking remember what I was doing! Can’t you just stop with the fake act and-”

“You ungrateful brat!”

A sharp gust of wind blast through the room, hitting you straight in the stomach that sent you on your knees. You felt sick as waves of fear coursed through your system. Its voice was spine-chilling, immediately triggering your fight-or-flight. In an instant before you could do any of the two, you yelped as you were forced on your feet by the hand that pulled your hair up with no remorse. “Even after I gifted you your power, your beauty, your voice, you still have the audacity to yell back to your mother like I was in the wrong!”

You wanted to bite back but a whimper could only move past your quivering lips. “All I’m asking you is to do your part as my daughter and make our name proud, but look where we are right now!” It grabbed your chin with ice-cold hands, turning it to the empty hall. “My reputation ruined! Your family destroyed! You could’ve have done your part and spared me the trouble of finding a criminal to-”

To what? What does she mean?

The Stand took a deep breath and smiled, the false mask back on as it tugged you into its arms. You were too confused and terrified to reject the gesture. You stood frozen as it brushed down your hair with light touches. “But that’s all in the past now. You’re still precious, still talented, and able to make amends to mommy.”

“I-”

“Shush now princess.” It directed you to stand on the small stage and you stayed put, hands clammy and breaths coming in quivers. The female returned to its spot on the seat and let the piano start its haunting music once more. “Let’s return to where we are.”

As if on cue, the room suddenly flashed into life. What once was a space drenched in dimmed darkness now beamed with the chandelier’s light. Ghostly figures sat on the once-empty chairs, blank faced and clapping. Underneath them, red seeped through the floor with some appearing as crimson streaks on the walls.

You widened your eyes in terror, recognizing the bloodshed from a past nightmare. Your hands shook, vision turning hazy, and the music almost sounded like it was ringing. It’s the same scene but what lacked was-

Someone tapped your shoulder and you dared to look over.

A strangled scream joined the music. Two battered men stood behind you, one older and the other around your age, both of them looking similar to each other. Both bore multiple wounds from their chests and abdomens, never-ending streams of blood gushing out from them. Their clothes were torn and scrapped. Some of their limbs broken or bent.

You cupped your mouth in complete horror, tears forming in less than a minute. You recognized the younger one- the same man who would ruffle your hair and swore to keep you from danger’s way. The same one who went missing for days, only to be found brutally murdered.

That could only mean that the other figure was your-

“Disobey me again and I guarantee your new friends will turn out like they did.”

Rapid succession of many footsteps prompted you to quickly turn around and staggered back with a cry and closed eyes. Silent Sanctuary manifested in an instant, flashes of rose-gold and sounds of objects crashing the only thing you could process.

“Y/N?!”

You let out a violent gasp as you bolted upright from your bed. The room still spun around you and it took a couple of breaths in for you to see and think clear. And you remembered.

You were in a small hotel room that you insisted staying in. Alone while the others stayed in separate rooms. Though you wouldn’t call it welcoming any longer as the furniture around were now trashed, torn and split open as if a massive whip had done it. Items lay on the floor, damaged if not broken. The window beside you was cracked and the sheets used were drenched with sweat.

You didn’t have to think too much or lie to yourself that the damages dealt was done by an enemy Stand user. You knew no one else couldn’t have done this but your Stand. Oh god, what if one of them was here with me? I would’ve-

The door swung open to Mr. Joestar checking on you still in his pajamas, frantic. In a second, Jotaro appeared beside him, equally worried. “Y/N?! What happened?!”

“I-I don’t…”

The old man hurried inside and assessed the level of damage from the split shelves to the cracked window. He turned to you and grabbed your shoulders, the touch making you jump a bit. “Did you notice someone break in?! Why didn’t you call for help?!”

“Because I- there was- I mean…” You couldn’t form a complete sentence, still overwhelmed from what happened that all you could muster were stutters. “I-I don’t know…”

Mr. Joestar shook your shoulders as if that would snap you out of your daze. “Y/N tell me where and how they broke in and I’ll make sure we’ll make them pay-”

“Leave her be old man!” Jotaro called out from his position by the door, his tone bordering into anger. “Can’t you see she’s shaken?!”

The delinquent’s words prompted him to make a double take on your frazzled state. With realization, Mr. Joestar drew his hands back from your shoulders. You let out a heavy sigh, your arms immediately wrapping around yourself.

You’d find Polnareff and Avdol arriving soon after, hurrying inside to visit you and sitting by your side in an attempt to comfort you. Kakyoin joined the older adult and asked questions as to what had happened.

Out of the corner of your eyes, Jotaro still stood in the same position as before. He watched the guys talk to you from his spot with furrowed brows and tightened lips. That was new. You never saw him this concerned before. Though, it could be out of pity.

And you let yourself believe that lie.

After few more consolations from the guys, time couldn’t wait for the group any longer and you had to continue on forward. Throughout the trip to the desert, you kept your focus on the sky and could only nod and smile whenever one of the Crusaders would talk to you.

There were instances you grew worried whether you’re “positive” mask started to slip and you’d make attempts to put it back on with random bouts of lively, short conversations. Just enough words to make them less suspicious of your odd behavior.

Eventually, you’d reach the edge of the sandy wasteland where Mr. Joestar would trade his car with a couple of camels. He struggled with how to handle them and watched him make a fool of himself in front of his team. Quiet murmuring could be heard beside you but you paid no attention.

Instead, you allowed yourself to smile a bit at the sight of the old man being goofy.

“Y/N?” You turned to look at Kakyoin standing beside you, wearing a thick shawl to cover his head with. In his hands was another. “It’s going to be an inferno out there. Some protection might be needed.”

“Oh… thanks Kak.” You said. He smiled and draped the white cloth over your head, adjusting the hem to fit around your neck.

“The last thing Jot- I mean we would want is for you to have serious sunburns or die from a heat stroke.”

You didn’t catch the slip of his tongue and said one last “thank you” before claiming one of the camels available. With the intervention of Avdol’s help, everyone was able to board the three-humped animals and travel across the desert was now possible.

It would be a while, and it would be insufferable with the heat that would come but you figured that a high temperature inconvenience would be a good distraction from all the shit that now sat in your mind.

You hoped the mild burn would hurt if it meant steering away from your thoughts.

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Your mood hadn’t improved.

Under the blazing heat of the sun, the Crusaders traversed across the vast desert with Avdol leading the way. Joseph was behind the Egyptian followed by Polnareff and Kakyoin side by side. Jotaro followed the both of them while you kept yourself in the back.

To see you smile even just for a little bit when the cherry-haired gave you the shawl Jotaro bought for you was at least something. But along the way, you continued to keep yourself distant from the rest with despondence. The delinquent decided to hang in the back to watch over you while the rest seemed oblivious to your current behavior.

The sudden isolation somehow also affected the way you used your Stand. You refused to use Silent Sanctuary ever since their encounter with Steely Dan, only bringing it out when absolutely necessary to protect the group such as a sudden Stand attack from the Sun itself.

There were instances when he hoped you would cheer up whenever his grandfather would say inappropriate words in the middle of an attack or when the others would burst into laughter at the realization of the enemy user’s choice of camouflage.

You could only smile at most at their nonsensical humor instead of playing into their jokes, only to drop the expression when you knew no one was looking at you anymore.

The night that came after dispatching of the Sun’s user, everyone huddled to settle around the makeshift bonfire, finding their preferred spot to get some shut eye.

And just as Jotaro was about to get his sleep, he found you sitting on your sleeping bag by yourself a bit away from the small circle of warmth the guys rested in. He watched you desperately trying to stay awake, seeing you slap your face numerous times, hold your breath, or pinch your skin.

Eventually, you’d succumb to sleep despite your efforts, still sitting with your knees bunched to your chest and your head resting on top. Jotaro sighed and got up, slowly approaching you before shrugging his uniform off to ball it into a makeshift pillow.

With cautious movements, he gently maneuvered you to lie down on it and helped insert your body into the sleeping bag, zipping up halfway.

He stayed there for a while, watching over you even though his own sleepiness made his eyelids heavier. Your sleeves happened to loosen up a bit. He gaped at the bandages wrapped around your wrists. He cursed to himself and nearly reached over to inspect it. What happened?

Only to stop and direct his fingers to brush your hair off your forehead. Damnit, what am I doing? What should I be doing? Jotaro reached for his lighter and fidgeted with the small item, opening the lid and closing it vice versa. A habit he developed when his mind stormed with so many thoughts. Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on? It’s… annoying…

He should head back to his place and get his sleep for the days to come, but for some reason he was compelled to just stay beside you, making sure nothing would happen to you. He wanted to keep you safe, wanted to help you to the point you’d be happy again. And at that one moment of realization, his heart raced and his cheeks flared with warmth.

The delinquent ended up in the same spot that night, being the one who slept sitting through the cold instead of you.

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“I want you to sing as if the world’s watching princess! Let everyone know how top-class your voice is!”

At this point, you were tired and just let your nightmares take control. The piano continued to play and by default you let yourself sing together with the music, tapping into an old memory of a song you used to perform back when you were a mere child.

Before you, countless of blank-faced people watched you on stage, the ones dressed in suits having grins etched on their faceless masks.

“That’s it. You’re making mommy proud! You’ll bring our name back in the spotlight in no time.”

If that meant keeping Sanctuary at bay and from lashing out and hurting your friends, then you’d comply to the Stand’s wishes for now. You sang through your nausea and pressure of the crowd in front of you. It made you powerless and it was sickening. Why couldn’t you just run away?

However, just as you were about to finish the song, something shined beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass window situated at the back of the room. You gazed at the night sky and saw a singular beaming star in the midst of the dark blues and blacks.

You never took your eyes off of it, finding comfort in the tiny twinkling light.

And even through the noisy applause of the audience and the prideful cackling of the ebony Stand, you smiled to no one but yourself.

You found somewhere you could run off to. Away from the manor. Away from her.

And to the north star above.

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The group was to be airborne in a small plane and a baby is now involved.

Mr. Joestar had initially rented the flying transport for the trip but with the feverish infant needing immediate medical intervention, the owner wanted to use it first before lending it to the Crusaders.

But with your diplomatic talk with the pilot to prevent the old man from punching him out of frustration, and the suggestion of bringing the baby with the team aboard the aircraft to bring to a doctor on the way, the crew eventually settled with the man and set flight.

Though you noticed Kakyoin started to have his own dilemma, showing movements that were similar to yours after moments of reoccurring nightmares. Opening up to him, you learned that he didn’t know why he felt that way but couldn’t help but be in unease having the child on board.

Whether it be for the child’s safety or theirs.

His bubbling paranoia would end up in mayhem, yet again mimicking the scene you made without anyone watching. Midst flight, Kakyoin thrashed in his sleep, yelling and flailing wildly that caused Mr. Joestar to lose control of the plane.

With the help of Hermit Purple for the vehicle’s stabilization and Silent Sanctuary to absorb any fall or impact damage for the passengers, everyone crash landed onto land unscathed. Their current circumstances forced the Crusaders to camp out for the night, waiting for the rescue team Jotaro called from the plane’s radio to arrive.

Night came and while the guys readied their temporary camp site, blatantly shrugging off Kakyoin’s obvious hostility towards the sleeping infant, you paced around the area and dreaded going to sleep and returning to the same old lifeless house you once called as a sorry excuse of a “home”.

The fire still crackled in the middle of the group and the sleeping bags were laid out for them to occupy. At first, you joined them around the heat source. You waited until all of them fell asleep and only then, you got up and walked off into the trees where no one was in range.

And against one of the larger trunks, you sat in a space between its roots and let out a heavy sigh. A passing breeze sent shivers down your body and you crossed your arms in a feeble attempt to stay warm.

Your eyelids grew heavy yet again and you could only brace yourself to be part of that Stand’s show as you your eyes closed unwillingly.

Hopefully, you could find the one star from before and this time, you’d make a run for it.

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You weren’t the only one awake.

Jotaro pretended to sleep with the others with his back turned away from your cautious eyes. He waited for any cue to tell him his intuition was correct.

Someone zipped their sleeping bag down followed by footsteps fading into the trees.

He waited a few more seconds for the receding sound to fade and only until the second he couldn’t hear it anymore, Jotaro got up and steadily followed your trail. When he crept closer, the faintest crunch of the ground ahead guided him through the plants and to where you were going.

The delinquent continued his way forward, actively holding back his cursing and “tch’s” with every tiny inconveniences dealt by the shrubs and bugs. Reaching to the area where the footsteps stopped, Jotaro leaned back against a tree trunk to peer over to the side.

And there you were- slumped against another tree, sleeping in-between its root with your knees up and your head laying on top.

What were you doing? Was what Jotaro had in mind at first thought. Why choose to separate and behave like this? And he should be asking these questions right from the moment he noticed the shift in your personality, but why was he hesitating?

“And so what if I’ve been quiet? Can I not be chatty for once?”

“Don’t you like it when I’m not annoying you or pissing you off with my bullshit? Wasn't that he reason why you’ve called me a ‘bitch’ in the first place?”

… Right. He did try, but all he got in response was further aggression to push him away. Your way of not allowing others to cross an invisible border between what’s nice for the Crusaders and whatever secrets you chose to keep to yourself.

Maybe he hesitated because you’d repeat what you’d done and further stray away from his observing gaze, and that maybe you’d be left with no choice but to terminate the bond you both had formed from the beginning.

And as much as Jotaro didn’t mind cutting ties with a couple of acquaintances, he didn’t want to cut the one he had with you.

He shook his head, palming his eyes with a sigh. “It’s too late in the night to be stressing out like this.” He should head back to the others but not before thinking of bringing something to keep you warm from the chilly night breeze. With one last glance, he turned around to return to camp.

Jotaro could always try talking to you again when the time was right, re-worded to sound less insensitive. There would be no guarantee that it’ll work but he had to try.

He followed the trail back to the camp with the cogs in his head still running on possible methods to help you, and as he was about to return to his sleeping bag for tonight’s rest-

The wild cracking of wood and the violent rustling of leaves from the distance brought Jotaro’s attention back to the direction of the forest. A Stand attack? Should I wake up the others? He shook his head and clenched his fists.

You had a reason why you chose to isolate yourself and why you looked so stiff when his grandfather and the others started to ask you questions. He won’t disrespect your wishes but damn it, Jotaro won’t have you battling an enemy all by yourself.

He bolted back into the path he trekked, memorized the turns you took and every little biomarkers he had kept in mind to help guide him through the trees. And by the time he reached to the spot you chose to be in, he cursed as something whipped his arm by accident. He’d expect a bruise to form soon.

Jotaro took in what happened before his eyes.

There you were in the middle- on your knees sobbing, head bowed and clutched tight by your hands, and crying out to someone to “please stop”. Stemming from your back, numerous strips of rose-gold fabric were in chaos, wildly thrashing around with rapid swings as if to shield you from an invisible threat. Your surroundings were beaten to a pulp with torn to split tree trunks, broken branches, and small bleeding creatures caught in your crossfire.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Was this why you suddenly wanted to be left alone? Were your dreams that horrible that you had to trigger your Stand’s violent capabilities as a response? There were so many questions that stormed through Jotaro’s mind but he knew he wouldn’t get the answers if you remained the way you were.

And he knew you’d suggest the worse for yourself to the group if he would just leave you alone again. He had to get to you somehow.

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The lifeless manor stood before you once again.

You knew your mother’s Stand waited for you in the music hall for your next performance, but instead of heeding the commands of the melody from the distance, you turned to the windows and looked to the sky. With relief, the glowing star remained in its spot in the sky.

Like you planned, you’d make a run for it.

You swung the main entrance open and bolted out of the building and rushed into the abyss beyond. You didn’t know what was inside the dark but you paid no attention to any of your fears and focused your sights on the lone star shining above.

“You treacherous little brat! You dare flee from your mother?!”

You refused to look back and fought against your instinct to check the booming yell that seemed to intensify with every step you took away from the source. You swore you could hear the faintest pair of footsteps increasing in volume and pace.

In sheer panic, adrenaline rushed throughout your body and you sprinted harder into the void.

“Go any further and I’ll make sure you suffer the consequences, princess.”

You couldn’t see anything around you. It was nothing but the vast darkness of the void until a ray of light beamed ahead of you. With nowhere else to go, you stepped into it.

At first, you were blinded by the brightness of the exit way. Gradually, the environment came to and you found yourself in a static image of a bedroom with a little child in bed listening to a grown man reading a bedtime story. You knew that the kid was you and the man perched beside you was no other than-

“Dad…:”

A sharp ring chimed and you had to cup your hands over your ears and close your eyes as a series of voices spoke:

“Will you be here more often? Mom’s being too scary again.” “I’m sorry I wish I could. I really do, sweetie. But I have lots of things to do at the office” “Oh again?” “Again. But, to make up for it I already booked us a trip to the amusement park this Sunday. Just the two of us.” “Really?!” “Yes because I love my little sunshine so much. Always remember that dad’s always here to watch over you.”

An unclear conversation between him and someone else followed, one that was in confusion and irritation, and what came next was the abrupt crack of bones. You winced at the sound.

When you came to, the bedroom wasn’t what you saw. Instead, it was a park where two people hung out. One a teenage boy and the other you. Your younger self watched him with awe as the older sibling shared your habit of sharing many ideas.

Another series of dialogue rang and beyond your closed eyes:

“And you’ll never guess what the guy did while I was doing my push-ups.” “What?” “He threw a fake bug- my worst nightmare- right in front of my face and I screamed like… like…” “Like?” “Like you.” “Hey! Meanie.” “But you know what, big bro’s almost graduating and as soon as I’m done with the whole complicated stuff, I promise I’ll contact uncle and he’ll help us buy an apartment in Seoul where you, Dad, and I can move into. And we can finally get away her and from all these creepy stalkers.” “You can also introduce me to your girlfriend!” “Yah! I’ll get to it when I get to it.”

The memory of him leaving you for academy replayed and so did the news report of his sudden murder.

You collapsed onto your knees. Before you knew it, a couple of tears trailed down your cheeks and you burst into tears. You had direct family who loved you and for you to see their mangled bodies previous nightmares made you realize that they weren’t here anymore.

Killed.

The ebony Stand stood in front of you and you could only stare at its lower half, unable to look into the piercing blood eyes of the twisted incarnation of your mother. “Get up. You brought this to yourself because every one of you were too selfish that you wanted to leave me behind. Here I thought that I’d get at least an ounce of your love to me.”

“Sing songs like I once did in front of the crowd and have the world stand with awe, applauding the talent shown,” it crooned. “But you couldn’t just remain obedient and do such a simple thing. You also manipulated my husband and your brother to bail you out.”

“And so I thought, what if I removed them from the equation with a criminal who can do whatever I want with some pretty money and quality drugs of his choosing.”

“Y-You… You did this?”

“You forced me to do so! You were going to leave me!”

“Because you made me want to! You killed them and I left! I want nothing to do with you! You murderer!”

The Stand cackled and out of nowhere, it crouched next to you with its cold bony hands gripping your chin. “Still a brat are we? How about I remind you something else?” She turned your head to the darkness and saw countless grinning faces at you.

“My crowd is displeased by your performance and they want compensation.”

“N-No… No! I don’t want that!” You desperately shook, wanting to free yourself from its grasp. “Stop! Please stop! Why can’t you leave me be?!”

“Have fun.” The Stand chuckled and whisked away, granting the looming figures to approach with their hands out.

“NO!” You grabbed your head and shut your eyes. Silent Sanctuary was out and reflecting off of her user’s panic, began to unravel multiple strips of fabric and lashed them out in many speeding arcs, creating a barrier of whips. You sobbed. “Please stop! Please stop! Please stop!”

“Y/N?!”

“Can you hear me?!”

That voice…

“Wake up! Wake up damnit!”

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Using Star Platinum to take most of the strikes with its arm, Jotaro edged closer and called out to you. “Y/N! Can you hear me?!” He grunted as one whipped attack stung hard against his shoulder and yet you couldn’t hear him through the speeding cloths. He tried again and shouted. “Hey Y/N! It’s Jotaro! Wake up! Wake up damnit!”

The flailing continued to rage and Jotaro had to step back from the sting he received on his leg. I have to get close. And he fully intended to just charge through the chaos and grab you by the shoulders for you to wake up, but with one last yell-

“Y/N!”

Your sobs, even for a minute, dwindled down into sniffles and your eyes blinked open. Disoriented and frenzied, you scanned your surroundings in quick motions as if you could’ve sworn predators were out to pounce the moment you woke.

He never saw you in this state and to bear witness sent a gripping ache in his heart. Your breaths came out so harsh, shallow, and fast it looked painful with your face flushed and sweating from the mere effort of breathing. You remained on your knees, hunched over with a hand clutching your chest.

Silent Sanctuary never stopped in her fury but your panicked delirium would pause at the sight of the delinquent, and at the first contact of his ocean-blue eyes, tears swelled and you broke into a desperate sob, wrapping your free arm around yourself. “J-Jotaro… I can’t-”

“What should I do?!” He called out, almost desperate himself. “Y/N, how can I help you?! Tell me!”

You whimpered and you curled further in on yourself, tightening your arm around your waist. Past your short breaths, you managed to croak. “H-Hold me.” You shut your eyes. “Someone p-please… ground me. I-I can’t breathe-”

Jotaro heard enough. He balled his fists and hurried into the clear, shrugging his gakuran off as he made his way to you and ignoring the strikes of your Stand’s cloths against his skin. Reaching you in the eye of the storm, he knelt before you and wrapped your trembling body with his uniform.

In the next second, he nudged you into his arms and held you tight just as you wanted with an arm secured around your back and the other behind your head. “It’s me. It’s Jotaro. Take deep breaths for me.”

In his hold, you buried your face in his faded green top and clutched it hard as you struggled to follow his instructions. You continued to cry. “I-I’m sorry-”

“Don’t. Take your time.” With caution, he gently patted your back in slow, intermittent patterns. “If you can, take a couple of deep- !”

He grunted as the flurry of fabrics that Star couldn’t block snapped against his back and arms, but he never let go. Instinctively, he held you closer as if to shield you from your own Stand attack. It dawned on you that Sanctuary began to hurt your friend and you cried out, pushing against his chest. “N-No! You need to get away! I-I’m hurting you-”

“You’re not,” Jotaro said immediately even if you two knew it was a lie. It fucking stung everywhere, the early stages of bruising starting to form from the countless impacts, but he shouldn’t leave you like this. He wouldn’t.

He bit back another grunt as a hard blow struck his shoulder. “Focus on yourself. Breathe.”

You were a mess, conflicted whether you should continue to push him for his safety or keep his arms secured around you. And through your ugly tears and sobs, you willed yourself to concentrate. You kept your arms folded between your chest and Jotaro’s and he felt you shut your eyes.

Through the swings of the cloths, he could hear you focus on your breathing albeit shaky. “That’s it.” He encouraged softly, brushing your hair. “Deep breaths. No need to rush. I’m here.”

Eventually, your uneven breaths stabilized and the tension you kept inside faded away, your once rigid shoulders turning lax as you continued to keep up with the progress. Once you’ve calmed down enough, your Stand would pick-up its user’s state and stop its blind whipping.

Jotaro heavily sighed, relieved that he won’t have to tolerate any more beatings. He sat back on the grass, now at ease, and slowly pulled you with him, settling you between his legs while you were still finding your bearings.

A couple of minutes flew by and without the sound of whips cracking in the wind, it gave way to the calming ambiance of a simple night’s scene- the distant song of cicadas, the soft rustling of leaves, and the faint chirps of birds from the grove beyond.

As more seconds passed, you shuffled a bit in his arms with a sniffle and Jotaro leaned back to check you. With red puffy eyes and flushed cheeks, you looked at him the same time he did at you. “How are you?”

You mustered up a small yet genuine smile. “Feeling a bit better and… Oh god,” you turned away and wiped your nose with the back of your hand, embarrassed. “Oh my god, I’m really sorry you had to see me like this.”

“I don’t care about that. What I do care about is that you were able to calm yourself down.”

“Yeah but I also got help and for that.. I’m thankful.”

Jotaro huffed and warmth grew in his cheeks, a heavy weight that bore on his shoulders for days alleviated at the sight of your relief and gratitude. “Uh… let’s get some sleep. You must be tired from… all that.” He leaned back onto the dirt and closed his eyes, grimacing from the sting of the newly-formed bruises.

“And I’m… I’m sorry you had to endure my Stand’s-”

“It’s no problem,” he said to cut you off. “Those will just go away in a few days.”

Behind his shut vision, he could hear you move to him slowly by the telltale crunching of the grass growing close. “Will you mind if I… you know…”

Jotaro opened his eyes and saw you looking at him with an expectant gaze as you sat beside him, hands fidgeting with the hem of his uniform still draped over your shoulders, nearly engulfing all of you from how over-sized it was compared to your body. The vision momentarily caused a short circuit in his head for a split second.

“Know what…?”

“Lay next to you? It helps me… sleep.”

The delinquent took in your pout and puffy face one more time before sighing, laying out an arm for you. “Go ahead.”

You shuffled closer and eased onto the grass, letting his uniform serve as your blanket. Careful to not put too much pressure, you laid your head on his shoulder and pressed yourself close to his side, your face almost burrowing close to the crook of his neck. With you settled next to him, he wrapped his arm around your waist as if to secure you from the dangers out in the wild.

Fuck you’re so close… Jotaro’s heart raced at the proximity of your nose against his neck and the warmth you radiated beside him, but he knew how to keep himself in check and not cave in to bashfulness.

And just as he kept telling himself that, he jolted at the feather-light graze of your fingertip against his cheek. “ There’s still a faint mark here,” you mumbled, still tracing the length of the healed cut. “I’m sorry I did that too.”

“You never meant to hurt me… so it’s fine.”

“Still… I’m-”

“Stop saying ‘sorry’,” he said. "Because you don’t have to be.”

He could feel you pout against the skin of his shoulder, your hand now resting on top of his chest. “My bad then, Jotaro-ssi…” Your words turned sluggish as hints of drowsiness started to manifest. “I’ll just… go back to… sleep.”

Jotaro turned to look at you one last time with hooded eyes, finally content at seeing you doze off peacefully. And with no one watching, he slowly brought up his hand to smooth out the stray hair at the back of your head. You made a tiny noise of contentment and nuzzled closer to him.

Now falling into slumber after you, Jotaro returned his arm to where it was on your waist, muttering a quiet “good night” before succumbing into sleep himself.

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That night, the nightmares didn’t return.

For the star that you found out the window, the one you wanted to run towards, has instead led itself to you.