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aishangotome · 3 months

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Main Story Chapter 17-07: The Third Bang (第三声巨响) | Light and Night 光與夜之戀

Chapter 17-05

♡———♡

I wrapped my coat tightly around me and walked home quickly. Suddenly, I felt a chill on the tip of my nose. I habitually looked up, but the night sky remained the same. It was just dew dripping from the leaves. It seemed... it had been a long time since it had rained.

Suddenly, a blurry figure appeared in my vision, falling from the sky and rushing straight towards me. I desperately urged my body to dodge back, and as soon as I took a step, crack - a baby bottle fell in front of me, shattering into pieces.

Thankfully, I reacted quickly, otherwise I might be in the hospital now. I glared angrily at the high-rise building, but there was nothing I could do about those who littered.

The young man standing not far away breathed a sigh of relief. He withdrew his hand and looked at the bottle on the ground, lost in thought.

*Visually at this part, the game briefly shows the boy Osborn, hinting that he was the young man in this sentence.

As I was nearing home, my phone suddenly vibrated.

It was the landlord. But today wasn't the day to pay the rent.

Landlord: Hello, young lady, I hope I'm not disturbing you this late?

You: I'm not asleep yet, Auntie. What can I do for you?

Landlord: I'm a little embarrassed to bring this up. I just wanted to ask, your lease has three months left, right?

You: Yes, I was just about to discuss renewing the lease with you.

Landlord: I'm sorry, but I'm not planning to rent out that apartment anymore.

Landlord: You see, my granddaughter is starting elementary school next year, and the school district for that apartment is better.

Landlord: So I was thinking of getting it back to renovate it, so it'll be convenient for us to move in later.

You: But the deposit--

Landlord: Don't worry, young lady. I'll give you a month to find a new place and pack up, okay?

Landlord: I won't charge you rent for this month, and I'll return your entire deposit, including the penalty fee. You won't lose a penny.

Landlord: It's late, so I won't keep you any longer. Get some rest. You young people shouldn't stay up too late.

All the troublesome things seemed to happen at once. It seemed like when you're unlucky, bad things happen one after another like dominoes, and you can only watch, anxious but unable to stop them.

You: Finding a new place, moving... another big project.

As I walked, I thought, maybe this was a good thing. Leaving here sooner meant starting over sooner.

But as I looked up towards home, there was an indescribable feeling of reluctance in my heart... This seemed to be the only connection left between him and me.

Returning home, it was already past eleven, but I still couldn't fall asleep. I simply sat on the sofa, gazing at the night view outside the floor-to-ceiling window.

Guangqi City was still bustling, sleepless, and brightly lit.

Despite not being a stranger, I didn't feel much sense of belonging to this city. That's why I chose this apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows, thinking that being in the midst of the hustle and bustle would make me feel less lonely. It did bring me a lot of comfort.

But at this moment, the scenery outside the window remained the same, yet the loneliness felt even greater. I sat there for a while, and in order to avoid overthinking, I decided to start organizing.

First, I needed to unpack the express deliveries I hadn't had time to open before. Many of them were daily necessities sent by Charlie. I picked up a fluffy toilet seat cover, originally intended for winter.

A transparent small bag, almost thrown away among the pile of cardboard boxes, was what I had just bought online to store the amulet given by Osborn, protecting it from getting dirty.

This fluffy earmuff was a gift from Sariel at the beginning of the year. This bunch of dried flowers was given by An An when I moved in. I made it into dried flowers because it was so beautiful.

The lumbar support pillow by the sofa was an entry gift for Tangyuan, which I hadn't had the chance to give him yet.

And there was the broken night light...

The packing boxes were filled to the brim, much more than when I moved here. Some things had never been used, while others were broken but I couldn't bear to throw them away.

It had only been a year, how did I accumulate so many belongings unknowingly?

Moving is probably the process of reorganizing life. Counting what you have, letting go of the broken things, or things that won't be useful in the new life.

Only in this way can we wholeheartedly move towards the next destination.

I took the night light out of the cardboard box and put it back on the table.

In the early hours of the morning, it finally started to rain, but it stopped quickly. The starlight was always hidden by the clouds, and even the neon lights reflected in the puddles on the ground were unusually dim.

Osborn stood downstairs at the girl's house, looking up at the lit window.

On his phone screen was a text message she had sent not long ago.

I've been on a business trip in a neighboring city and just returned to Guangqi. I was too busy and forgot to reply. I'm sorry.

He hadn't been home for several days, and when he inquired at Wan Zhen, he only got the reply that she was on a business trip.

But she didn't answer his calls or messages. He almost concluded that one of his old enemies had taken her away.

From that day on, everyone in his guild put down their tasks and searched for the girl with all their might.

Although there was clear video evidence showing that she was indeed on a business trip in the neighboring city, Osborn still sensed something fishy.

So these past few days, no matter how late it was, he would wait downstairs for the moment the light came on.

Before coming, he had already made up his mind that today was the last day. If the girl didn't come back, he would check each of his enemies one by one.

And now, the warm light made him breathe a sigh of relief. Suddenly remembering how Wen Wan always said he was paranoid, Osborn lowered his head slightly and chuckled self-deprecatingly.

If he hadn't been so lax before, she wouldn't have been captured by Zhao Ze. For the sake of the people he cared about, even being overly cautious was nothing wrong.

He sent a message to Wen Wan to stop the search.

Osborn entered the elevator as usual and pressed the button for the girl's floor. Now, he just wanted to hug her and smell her hair. Then tease her a little and see her flustered expression.

A mother and son also entered the elevator. The mother's hair was tied up in a bun, with a few strands falling loose, covering her tired eyes.

The boy, on the other hand, seemed to have endless energy, playing with his scooter in the small space, almost bumping into Osborn.

Passerby Mother: I'm so sorry!

Passerby Mother: I bought you the toy, can't you behave? Look at the time, no other child is as noisy as you.

The boy showed no sign of calming down. The scooter lunged forward, and the whirring sound of the wheels was especially loud in the small elevator.

Passerby Mother: If you keep this up, I'll send you back to your grandmother's.

Only then did the boy stop, tilting his head and glancing at his mother before obediently leaning against the wall.

The elevator quickly reached the girl's floor, and the door slowly opened, but Osborn stopped.

He hesitated for a moment, then ultimately didn't step out, simply pressing the close button.

Back downstairs, Osborn leaned against the railing, the image of the mother and son from the elevator constantly appearing in his mind.

A child disliked by his mother, a mother misunderstood by her child.

Another face suddenly appeared before him, a young and equally tired face. He wondered if she felt relieved when she let go of his hand.

He was the same, wasn't he? Always had been. Not used to reporting to others, not used to discussing with others, even less used to considering others' feelings. Always forceful, doing as he pleased without explanation.

But now it was different. The danger had passed, the night was deep, and all the care and closeness he thought he was giving without reservation might become unbearable pressure and burden for her in the future.

Osborn: I can't do this.

Knowing she's safe is enough.

He took out his phone, quickly deleted the words "I'm downstairs," and typed a goodnight message. Just as he sent it, Wen Wan's call came in.

Wen Wan: Brother Xiao, Y/N really came back?

Osborn: Yes. Everyone's been dismissed.

Wen Wan: Thank goodness, thank goodness! The brothers can finally get a good night's sleep tonight.

Wen Wan: I told you, you were overthinking it. It's been so long, why would they come after you for revenge now?

Wen Wan: Knowing it's you, they should be even more afraid.

These words made Osborn's heart stir, as if he realized something.

Right, just now an informant said they saw that person under the bridge on Pingnan Road.

Osborn held his phone and listened quietly, his brows gradually furrowing.

Wen Wan: There was a little problem. The person was clearly there just now, but in the blink of an eye, they were gone.

There were faint gasps in the background, and some sounds of directing a search not far away. Osborn immediately understood.

Osborn: You only tell me after you lose them, huh?

Wen Wan: Well... yeah. I thought it was just a kid, I should be able to handle it.

Osborn: I got it. Don't act rashly, I'll be right there.

Worried that his other self would do something out of control, Osborn quickly got on his motorcycle. Just as he was about to start it, he noticed a small snail crawling on the handlebar.

He gently pinched the thin shell with two fingers and placed it on the leaves of a nearby holly bush before turning to leave.

A few minutes later, he arrived at the bridge Wen Wan mentioned. A search yielded no results, but it wasn't entirely fruitless - from the traces, it could be seen that the person had just left.

Always one step behind. Although he had tried his best to suppress the other, a wisp of the other's soul still remained in his body. Once his mind relaxed, the other could sense his every move.

Wen Wan: We've guarded all the passages, how did he get away?

Wen Wan: And why does that person look exactly like you? Is there really such a talent in the world?

Osborn didn't answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the tunnel under the bridge, lost in thought.

He remembered the information he had received from Zhou Weicheng a while ago - the power of a god could change the body.

Escaping was easy for that person.

He inexplicably breathed a sigh of relief, feeling an incomprehensible sense of relief in his heart.

As if he had hoped for his other self to escape repeatedly.

Wen Wan: Brother Xiao, trust me, next time I encounter him, I'll definitely catch him!

Wen Wan: But why don't you use the guild's system to find him? That would be much faster.

Osborn: You have ten thousand questions. Just let me know next time you see him.

Osborn: Where's the thing you were supposed to steal?

Wen Wan came back to his senses and quickly took out a folder from his bag, handing it to Osborn. Osborn opened it, quickly scanned it, and patted Wen Wan's head in satisfaction.

Wen Wan: Brother Xiao, you hit too hard.

Wen Wan: All the information is here.

Wen Wan: Luckily Brother Keyang helped me. The archive room has a new administrator, and now only the person in charge of the commission can see it.

Usually, after the guild accepted a commission, they would conduct a comprehensive investigation of the client and their family. Osborn carefully looked through these documents and found that the facts were as he had expected.

Although Merodach had forbidden him from taking on the case, he had privately investigated these shootings. All the victims were killed with a single shot, but each had multiple gunshot wounds.

He could almost determine it was revenge killing, not indiscriminate killing.

The murderer used the same type of bullet every time, seemingly not afraid of being caught; on the other hand, he was very cautious, leaving no fingerprints or other clues at the scene.

Osborn: McMillan Tac-50.

There's no need to use such a heavy weapon to snipe ordinary people, and these victims were all ordinary people without exception.

They had almost no common characteristics, so finding the connection between them was crucial.

Although a figure suddenly appeared in his mind after seeing the principal's name, he still needed more evidence to confirm it. After all, over the years, there were quite a few people who had grudges against that principal.

Osborn browsed through the victims' background information one by one. Except for the principal who used to be his enemy, the other victims had no connection to him.

And in the principal's life, only the period of teaching in middle school was written in great detail... Osborn stared at that passage, catching a hint of strangeness.

--This unusually detailed experience appeared very abruptly, almost as if it was deliberately trying to make him believe the authenticity of these files.

Osborn: Wen Wan, have these materials passed through anyone else's hands?

Wen Wan: No, I saw Brother Keyang steal them with my own eyes. What's wrong?

Osborn took out a metal box from his pocket, casually poured out a white candy-like object, and swallowed it.

He took the materials out of the folder, rolled them up, and stuffed them into his pocket, then threw the empty folder back into Wen Wan's arms.

Wen Wan: Aren't you going to return these? Last time I stole something, the boss made me clean the toilet. What if he makes me do it again this time...

Osborn: You should really think about how to deal with that.

Osborn: I have something else to do, gotta go.

Osborn nimbly got on his motorcycle and sped away.

Wen Wan: Brother Xiao, help me think of a way!

The motorcycle drove deep into a small alley in the city center, finally stopping in front of a shop with a "For Rent" sign. The doorway was covered in cobwebs, looking like it hadn't been taken care of for a long time.

Osborn pushed the door open and walked in, fiddling with the wall for a bit. The originally empty wall suddenly shifted, revealing a hidden door.

Osborn walked down the stairs until the faint light illuminated his vision again, and a bar appeared before him.

The rough wooden decor created a retro American country style, while the metal and leather accents added a touch of elegance to the space.

There were only a few customers scattered in the booths, quietly sipping wine or listening to the slow rock performance on stage.

The wooden door was pushed open, and several waiters turned their heads in unison.

When they saw who it was, they all showed surprised expressions.

Bartender A: Brother Xiao, why are you here?!

Bartender B: Hello, Brother Xiao!

Although he hadn't been back for a long time, Osborn skillfully walked through the crowd, nodding to them as a greeting.

Customer: Boss Xiao? It's really you.

A well-dressed middle-aged man in a booth stood up and walked towards Osborn with surprise.

Customer: Haven't seen you in ages. Being a race car driver is different, you've forgotten all of us old friends.

Osborn: How could I forget Boss Huang?

Osborn: Xiao Gu, open a bottle of wine. Tonight's bill is on me.

Osborn snapped his fingers at the waiter, and a bottle of golden liquor was quickly brought over on a metal tray.

The cork was popped, and the fragrant bubbles overflowed. Osborn poured himself a glass of wine and raised it to the other person.

Osborn: Cheers.

The glasses clinked, and Osborn raised his neck, drinking it all in one gulp.

Customer: Boss Xiao still has a good capacity for alcohol.

Osborn: I have something to do, enjoy yourself.

He patted the man's shoulder and turned to walk towards the back of the bar.

Passing through the staff lounge door, he continued walking, through the storage room, and finally arrived at the manager's office door.

The floor and walls were dark, hidden in large shadows.

The man sitting in the deepest part of the darkness was reading a book. Hearing the sound, he stood up alertly, and only relaxed when he saw who it was.

Zhou Weicheng: Osborn, why are you here? Have a seat.

He put down the book in his hand and gestured towards another sofa beside him. Osborn shook his head and stood against the wall.

Osborn: Are you used to it here? Has anyone given you trouble?

Zhou Weicheng: Everyone's been good, and no one's given me trouble. It's just that I've been troubling you, finding places for me and moving me around.

Zhou Weicheng: How long do I have to stay here?

Osborn: Not too long. As soon as there's a chance of being discovered, I'll find another place for you.

Zhou Weicheng sighed deeply.

Zhou Weicheng: I just feel useless.

Zhou Weicheng: I had already decided to risk my life for the truth, but in the end, I became a deserter just to survive.

Osborn: If the truth could be exchanged for life, I wouldn't stop you. But you know it's not possible. Only by living can there be a chance.

Zhou Weicheng: I understand everything you're saying. Don't worry, I won't be as impulsive as before.

Zhou Weicheng: You've already taken a big risk by arranging all this for me. I can't drag you down with me.

Zhou Weicheng raised his tired eyes and forced a smile at Osborn.

Zhou Weicheng: By the way, what did you come to see me for? Is it about him again?

Osborn nodded silently.

Osborn: You said before that he can know all my thoughts. I've been taking your medicine to suppress it, but the effect isn't ideal. I'm very passive.

Zhou Weicheng: After all, part of his soul is in your body. It's impossible to completely hide from him.

Osborn: A Taoist priest told me before that the two souls in my body are fighting each other.

Zhou Weicheng: Fighting?

Zhou Weicheng's eyes widened in shock, as if he hadn't expected the severity of the situation.

Zhou Weicheng: Do you have any discomfort in your body? Or any unexplained wounds?

Zhou Weicheng: We usually separate complete souls. Your situation is rare because we discovered side effects.

Zhou Weicheng: Souls separated from the same body often have empathy.

Zhou Weicheng: For example, if he gets hurt, you might feel pain too. Of course, this isn't 100%, the manifestation rate is about 60%.

Osborn was stunned for a moment, then nodded as if he understood something.

Zhou Weicheng was now even more anxious than Osborn. Obviously, Osborn had already developed empathy with the other half of the soul, but he had never mentioned it to anyone.

Zhou Weicheng: He hates us so much, and he's rejecting your soul. I should have thought of that.

Zhou Weicheng: If the two souls are in constant conflict and cannot merge, it will cause serious harm to the body.

Zhou Weicheng: In previous experiments, the mortality rate was 90%.

Zhou Weicheng: Plus, that soul has the power of a god. If it loses control, I really can't imagine what will happen.

Zhou Weicheng: Osborn, I'll try to find a way to relieve your pain with the least amount of harm.

Zhou Weicheng: But you must destroy him as soon as possible. The sooner he disappears, the safer you'll be.

Zhou Weicheng: If you don't trust me, you can destroy him yourself. Your power should be able to do it.

Osborn remained noncommittal, staring at the pattern on the floor, silent like a statue.

Zhou Weicheng stared at him anxiously, becoming increasingly impatient.

Zhou Weicheng: What are you worried about?

As soon as he finished speaking, Zhou Weicheng suddenly understood.

He remembered that the last time Osborn came to him, he had said that he didn't want to destroy the other half of the soul for the time being.

Zhou Weicheng: Don't you want to destroy him?

Osborn remained silent for a while before slowly nodding.

Zhou Weicheng looked at him in surprise, his heart filled with disbelief.

Back then at the academy, the young man was so resolute, determined to keep only the evil within himself. But now, he had become soft again, as if nothing had ever happened.

All your efforts, the sweat you shed, the choices you made, the immense pain you endured for it... You thought you had changed your fate, but in the end, nothing has changed. Zhou Weicheng suddenly felt the irony of fate towards people.

Zhou Weicheng: Osborn, he... is no longer you.

Osborn: I know.

Osobrn lowered his eyes, his thick eyelashes hiding a fleeting look of confusion.

Zhou Weicheng: If you can't bring yourself to do it, then I'll be the villain.

Osborn: Doctor, I am the villain, have you forgotten?

He curled his lips into a smile, seemingly trying to soothe the other's tension, but the air in the room remained heavy and suffocating.

Zhou Weicheng: Do you regret what happened back then?

Osborn: I wouldn't say regret.

Osborn: I just don't know how to give him up again.

Osborn: How did you feel when you sent that girl named Xiao Zhen away?

Zhou Weicheng: I felt that compared to Sun Taizhong or Lu Ting, I was the one who directly killed her.

Zhou Weicheng lowered his eyes.

Zhou Weicheng: I always stubbornly believed that as long as I could achieve my goal, the cost didn't matter.

Zhou Weicheng: But she would cry, she would laugh, she would call me uncle. She was a living person, not a container. I had no right to make decisions for her.

Zhou Weicheng: That girl was right, I was blinded by hatred. If I had been more clear-headed, Xiao Zhen might still be alive.

Zhou Weicheng: I used the sacrifice of others to maintain my hypocritical justice.

Osborn looked at Zhou Weicheng indifferently, then turned to look at the sealed window.

Silence filled the room for a while.

He moved his lips, his voice a little hoarse.

Osborn: When we first met, he said something to me.

Osborn: He said I was actually inferior and cowardly. Whenever something failed, I would always only look for the reason within myself.

Osborn: I felt that it was all because of him that I ended up like that.

Osborn: Maybe, at that time, all that was left was self-esteem, so I couldn't lose anything else.

Osborn: I thought that getting rid of him would give me absolute control over the outside world, and things would get better.

Osborn: But in the end, it took me even longer to coexist peacefully with this half of the soul in my body.

As if making a decision, Osborn withdrew his gaze and looked at Zhou Weicheng.

Osborn: He was right, there are very few things I can truly control.

Osborn: For so many years, I never faced him directly, which was actually refusing to admit that I was wrong.

Osborn: Abandoning him was my choice, I don't regret it, but I have to take responsibility for the consequences now.

Zhou Weicheng looked at him with heartache.

Unknowingly, the young man in front of him seemed to have grown and changed a lot, but he still hadn't let go of himself.

Zhou Weicheng: Actually, there's another way to not destroy him. As long as you can suppress him, I'll also try to find a way to make him go back to sleep.

Osborn: What if I can't suppress him?

Zhou Weicheng: Then your body will be controlled by him, and you'll become a bystander. No, it's still too risky.

Zhou Weicheng: He has the bloodline of a god and is exceptionally gifted. Once he returns to his original body, we don't know what price we'll have to pay to suppress him.

Osborn: Go on.

Zhou Weicheng paused, looking into Osborn's eyes, and finally sighed.

Zhou Weicheng: The paper you brought last time, it had the teacher's handwriting on it.

As he spoke, he opened a drawer and took out the yellowed paper covered in letters.

He didn't notice Osborn's back suddenly tensing up, various emotions flashing in his eyes, before he simply smiled silently.

Zhou Weicheng: It's about the soul separation technique, the method of transforming humans into blood clan containers.

Zhou Weicheng: Actually, we also developed a way to reverse it back then. But before we could test it, the teacher disappeared.

Zhou Weicheng: After I brought Xiao Zhen and the others out, I tried it, but because their transformation failed, I could only prolong their lives.

Zhou Weicheng: But you're different. I think it might succeed with you.

Osborn: Soul fusion?

Zhou Weicheng: You were originally one.

Osborn: Will he still have his own consciousness?

Zhou Weicheng shook his head.

Osborn's eyes darkened, his lips gradually pressing into a line.

Osborn: A while ago, Y/N saw him. In her words, he was living like an ordinary person.

Osborn: It's like... another me in a parallel universe. I can't just treat him as half of myself.

Zhou Weicheng: Don't blame yourself so much. You had no choice back then. In that situation, there was no right or wrong decision.

Zhou Weicheng: Don't carry so much guilt, your life will be very tiring.

Osborn: But now I have a choice, and I don't want to make the wrong one again.

Osborn: Do you have a way to make him completely unaware of my thoughts?

Zhou Weicheng frowned, about to shake his head in denial, but suddenly paused, as if he had thought of something.

But at the same time, the lines between his brows deepened.

Osborn: You do.

Zhou Weicheng: This can't be considered a solution.

Osborn: Say it.

Zhou Weicheng fell silent, their gazes locked in a silent interrogation within the narrow space. Eventually, Zhou Weicheng couldn't resist Osborn's determination to get to the bottom of it.

Zhou Weicheng: Separate the soul that belongs to him.

Time seemed to pause for a moment, the room falling into a deathly silence, even the ticking of the wall clock fading away.

Zhou Weicheng: I'll say it again, this is not a solution at all.

Zhou Weicheng: The risk is too great. No one can withstand multiple soul separations. Especially since his soul is still fighting against yours.

Zhou Weicheng: You will die.

Zhou Weicheng: But you're different now. You're the support of many people.

Zhou Weicheng glanced meaningfully towards the door of the manager's office.

Zhou Weicheng: I heard them say that if it weren't for you taking them in, they would have nowhere to go and might have starved to death.

Zhou Weicheng: And that girl. I can see you care about her a lot. She definitely wouldn't want you to take risks.

Osborn's face was instantly filled with tenderness, his hand unconsciously reaching for his chest, clutching the necklace.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

It was as if time had rewound eight years, or perhaps time hadn't moved at all, and they were forever faced with the same choice.

Zhou Weicheng couldn't help but look at Osborn. He was still the same child tortured by his own kindness, always giving in time and again. But fate also kept playing tricks on him.

Zhou Weicheng couldn't understand why good and evil were always undergoing drastic transformations. He even had a premonition that the nightmare would repeat itself.

Osborn: I understand.

Osborn stood up but didn't take a step.

Osborn: Don't tell Y/N about these things.

Osborn: She wouldn't want me to take risks, but no matter what decision I make, she will definitely support me, even if she's unwilling in her heart.

Osborn: So, don't tell her.

Zhou Weicheng nodded in agreement.

Osborn: Get some rest, I'll consider your suggestion.

Osborn turned and walked towards the door, but paused just as he was about to step out.

Osborn: Actually, there are always two voices in my heart, one hoping he disappears completely.

Osborn: But the other voice keeps telling me that abandoning him would make me the person I hate the most.

In a small alley not far from the bar, a security officer was conducting routine night patrols.

The man complained about his job while counting the crumpled bills in his hand, the protection fee he had just collected from a small vendor.

At this moment, a rhythmic crisp sound came from ahead, one after another, quite strange.

He adjusted the baton at his waist and tiptoed towards the source of the sound.

As he got closer, the sound became clearer, and he finally recognized it as the sound of a ping pong ball hitting the ground.

In the dim light, a hooded teenager was standing in front of a house, his back facing him.

The figure was bouncing a ping pong ball on the ground.

Security Officer: Hey, you, turn around.

The teenager seemed to not hear his voice and continued to bounce the ping pong ball in his hand.

Security Officer: I'm talking to you, do you hear me? What school are you from? Why are you still out this late?

He impatiently walked forward and slapped the teenager's shoulder hard.

The next moment, he fell on his back, a ping pong ball-sized black hole left in the palm of the hand that had touched the teenager's shoulder.

Patting the nonexistent dust off his shoulder, the teenager opened the door of the house and walked in.

He decided to find a house for himself, and this place happened to be unoccupied.

He thought that if Y/N came to find him in the future, he needed a place to stay. The warehouse was too dirty and would stain her clothes.

Without bothering to turn on the lights, he went straight to the bathroom, wringing out a towel and carefully wiping the shoulder that had been touched.

Then he wiped the coat rack clean and hung up his coat. Bored, he took out his phone and repeatedly looked at the text messages exchanged with Y/N.

Yes, she still remembered him and might come to find him anytime.

Would she like his new place? ... He couldn't contain his anticipation and smiled.

Outside the wall, in a corner at the end of the alley, Yuan Hao looked at the unconscious security officer lying on the ground, feeling a deep sense of terror.

If he had originally only wanted to use him, now he felt it was beyond his capabilities.

After hesitating for a while, he finally mustered up the courage and knocked on the door.

The door opened with a click, and the teenager's indifferent face appeared behind it, the ping pong ball rhythmically hitting the ground as he tossed it.

(Osborn) Boy: It's you again.

Afraid that he would be rejected again, Yuan Hao took a step forward.

Yuan Hao: I know you're Osborn.

Yuan Hao: You're half of Osborn's soul.

(Osborn) Boy: Did Sheng Shan tell you that?

Yuan Hao was so surprised that he couldn't speak. He even knew that he belonged to the Lian Shan Society.

But at this point, there was no point in denying it. If he wanted to cooperate with him, he had to show sincerity.

So Yuan Hao slowly nodded.

Yuan Hao: I want to cooperate with you.

The teenager tilted his head, leaning against the door frame and looking at him sideways.

Yuan Hao: My brother was killed by Yuda Academy, but for so many years he's only been a name, one of the 89 victims.

Yuan Hao: But that person is living well, better than anyone else. Don't you think it's unfair?

(Osborn) Boy: You're not capable enough, so you want to use my hand to deal with him?

(Osborn) Boy: You should go beg the Lian Shan Society, power is the best weapon.

The blunt words seemed to hit Yuan Hao's sore spot, causing a flash of anger on his face.

Yuan Hao: It's useless. Sun Taizhong is dead, he can take all the blame.

Yuan Hao: The public just wants an explanation. Once they get it, the Yuda Academy incident will be completely over.

Yuan Hao: The Lian Shan Society won't avenge me alone. In the end, I'm just their pawn, to be discarded at will.

Yuan Hao: My brother's little life means nothing to them.

Yuan Hao: No matter how big the fuss, there's always a time when people forget. I've seen it clearly.

Yuan Hao: So you're my savior. I swear, I'll never betray you like he did!

Hearing the familiar words, the teenager straightened up with interest.

(Osborn) Boy: But I'm also Osborn, your enemy. Aren't you afraid I'll kill you right now?

Yuan Hao: You won't. You're different.

Yuan Hao's eyes flashed with a burning light, as if hatred was burning.

Yuan Hao: That Osborn, as a survivor, has no remorse at all and lives with a clear conscience.

Yuan Hao: Why? He doesn't even stand up to expose the evil.

Yuan Hao: But us, the families of the victims, have to bear the pain of losing our loved ones for the rest of our lives.

Yuan Hao: But you're different. You did what we wanted to do but didn't dare to do, like... a god.

The teenager looked at him thoughtfully, examining the overflowing admiration in his expression.

He had seen the same light in others' eyes more than once, and could vaguely feel them placing something on him, but it only made him feel more lost.

(Osborn) Boy: God?

Yuan Hao nodded without hesitation.

(Osborn) Boy: Have you seen one?

Yuan Hao: No. But I think a god should be like you. Not caring about anything, not afraid of death, absolutely fair to everyone.

He spoke with such certainty and conviction, but the teenager had lost interest in listening.

(Osborn) Boy: One last question, why not seek revenge directly from the Blood Clan? You should know they are the real culprits.

Yuan Hao opened his mouth but no sound came out, his face flushing red.

Yuan Hao: I will, it's just a matter of timing. I'll take revenge on them one by one. Osborn is the first.

The teenager stared at his face, saying nothing. Yuan Hao interpreted this noncommittal behavior as tacit approval and eagerly presented his plan.

Yuan Hao: I know Osborn cares deeply about a woman. If something happened to her, Osborn would go crazy.

Yuan Hao: He's never lost anything, he should taste that feeling too.

(Osborn) Boy: No wonder you've achieved nothing so far, you're so stupid.

(Osborn) Boy: I'll only say this once, don't go near her.

The door was slammed shut in front of him.

He knew this kind of person too well. They didn't truly seek justice for their deceased loved ones. Perhaps they did at the beginning, but over time, jealousy replaced anger, and embarrassment replaced grief.

They couldn't believe that others could endure it, nor could they accept that they couldn't. So they desperately tried to drag those who had endured it down, to prove that everyone was living just as badly, but they didn't have the courage to target the real enemy.

Yuan Hao stood dumbfounded outside the door, not understanding why the teenager had refused.

Perhaps he had his own considerations. A person as powerful as a god should make the best decision, Yuan Hao thought to himself, nodding silently.

Just as he thought this, the door in front of him suddenly opened again.

(Osborn) Boy: Dispose of the body at the door.

Yuan Hao: What do you mean?

(Osborn) Boy: Didn't you say you wanted to cooperate with me?

Chapter 17-09

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#light and night #light and night translations #evan #sariel #osborn #jesse #charlie #light and night chapter 17 translation #light and night main story translation #lu chen #xiao yi #qi si li #xia ming xing #zha li su

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vernon-s-whore · 2 years

Text

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ The Best Friend Chronicles

part-2

part 1 2 3

Huening Kai x afab!cis reader

Huening Kai x Childhood friend!reader

warnings: smut (there is mostly just dry humping, a little fingering), afab!reader, hasn't been beta'd because i don't have a beta. forgive me for spelling errors or whatever, this fic contains swearing because yes. this is fluffy and kinda dumb but i really like the idea of first kisses between pairs on sleepovers, especially with like childhood friends.

a/n: this is just a fun series of drabbles with Best friend!Hueningkai x Best friend!reader because yes. most parts are unrelated to each other, although there might be some mentions of the other parts but it doesn't matter, you can read each part as standalone

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　

"Will your mom be okay with me staying here?" Kai questions, fluffing his pillow up. The mattresses had been set up in the living room for a movie night with Kai, Lea and Bahiyyih and your younger siblings.

"You've stayed here for every summer for what? 12 years? I don't think my mom will have a problem now," you huff, rolling your eyes.

"Well twelve years ago i wasn't a fucking grown guy right?" He hisses, voice low so that your siblings don't hear. "I don't know man, feels weird now, sleeping next to a girl."

"You sleep next to your sisters all the time dude-" You scoff, turning away from him to see Lea taking out buttery popcorn into a bowl, mouth watering instantly at the smell wafting from the counter.

"Those are my sisters!" He shoves your shoulder.

"And we're been friends for so long we're practically family."

"Ew, no that makes it so weird," Kai mutters, shaking his head.

"Well, you know Hiyyih and my sister always sleep together, argue with them if you don't wanna sleep with me," you snap, annoyed by this sudden debate about sleeping positions.

Till last year Hueningkai had no restrictions about sleeping next to you on the summer sleepovers, but now suddenly he was acting weird.

"You know they won't listen," Kai whines, tugging your t-shirt.

"Ask my brother then, he can probably switch places," you shrug, welcoming the popcorn and Lea beside you while the youngest in the group, your eleven year old brother dives onto the mattresses, sprawling like a starfish.

"Hey, buddy you think you can sleep next to your sister?"

"No, i'm sleeping next to Lea noona," he chirps happily. "And i promised her i won't kick so she allowed me~"

Hueningkai sighs, resigned, and leans back.

"Guess it's just you and me then partner," you nudge him, the starting credits of Zootopia playing on the TV much to the youngest's delight. Bahiyyih and your sister whisper among themselves, alternating between giggling at their phones, presumable about Bahiyyih's new crush or something, and looking at the TV for every Nick scene.

"Should we turn in, kid's already asleep," Lea gestures to your brother who has curled next to her, already very excited to sleep next to his "favourite pretty noona".

"yeah, the movie's almost over anyways, let's just switch it off," you reach for the remote flipping, turning it off.

Bahiyyih and your sister continue whispering under their breath for a while, occasional squeaks and giggles escaping them. You read some manga for a while, enjoying the company of so many people just doing their own thing.

Well, mostly. Hueningkai has decided that you were his personal mattress and had his head propped on your thigh, listening to music on his headphones. Good thing the mattresses were big otherwise he would have been half on the floor. Lea had already turned in since she had to go shoot a video in the morning and the little demon who had requested Zootopia was asleep.

After a while even the girls' whispers died down, signaling they were asleep. Your leg has gotten numb, so you nudge Kai off, gesturing him to sleep.

"What?" He whispers, taking off his headphones.

"Everyone is asleep, we should too," you whisper as low as you could. Bahiyyih was a light sleeper and she was right next to you.

"Oh... yeah," he nods, climbing into the space between you and your brother. He has gotten much broader over the year, it is almost a tight fit.

"Goodnight," you whisper, facing him because you'd rather not face Bahiyyih right then. His blond hair reflects the moonlight coming through the big glass windows, leaving squares of light over the six sleeping children. Well three children and three adults.

"Fuck," he whispers, pulling you off the road to dreamland.

"What? Do you need water?" You open your eyes.

"No...," he whispers. "Can you come closer? I'm cold."

"it's the middle of summer," you whisper back.

"Your AC works very fucking well," he smiles and you can see pearly white teeth which look almost ghostly in the moonlight.

"Okay," you shift, cover him partly with your comforter, to lend extra warmth. His forearm digs into your waist when he tugs you closer, into his chest, where you resign to sleeping.

But sleep has a way of evading when one needs it the most.

"Kai?" You whisper after some time.

"Yeah?"

"You're hard." A giggle bubbles through your words.

"I know."

"Are you gonna do something about it?"

"Not really."

"Can I kiss you?" You tilt your head up, looking at his eyes. Or trying to, at least.

"We're surrounded by our siblings," he whispers, smiling his dumbass smile which has been making your heart flutter for the past months and no, it's probably not arrythmia.

"Let's go to my room for a few minutes then, no one will know," you whisper, trying not to sound too pleading.

"Okay," he nods, nosing your ear in the process, sending a shiver down your spine.

Mercifully no one wakes up when Hueningkai slithers out of the array of mattresses, helping you up, padding barefoot to your room. You see your parents' empty beds and are internally grateful no one will know what transpired in your room today.

The moment the door clicks shut behind you, you reach up for Hueningkai and he bends down, easily picking you up, lips moving in tandem, like this was meant to happen for years, decades even.

He kisses like he's drowning, all gasping and hungry and so so devoted, hands squeezing you vehemently as he carries you to the bed, making you sit on his lap. You can feel his erection even more this way, more than when it was just poking your thigh. He pushes up your night-shirt, pushes up the tank top you wore under it to grope your breasts and you don't stop him, reaching below to squeeze his cock. He moans when you do that and both of you freeze, almost scared that Lea or worse, Bahiyyih will walk in, both of them being light sleepers.

"Fucking hell," you giggle, throwing your head back. Kai kisses your throat, trailing down to your collarbones, hands still squeezing your tits. "What if they hear?" You giggle, punch drunk on kisses and the smell of Kai's soap, still clinging to his skin from the shower he took before getting in bed.

"I really like you," he whispers seriously. "Like, as a girl."

"I think that is a little obvious in hindsight Kamal," you peck his nose.

"Do you... like me too?"

"If i didn't i wouldn't be on your lap, hiding from our siblings at like 3 am."

"Point made," he kisses you hard, sucking your tongue into his mouth, hands moving down to grip your ass, to make you press down on his cock. He's only in sweatpants so you can feel exactly how hard he is and oh, it made you wet. You try to get as much stimulation as you can, grinding on him like that but it doesn't really help it. You're left wanting more everytime a white hot streak of pleasure courses through you, only to be lost.

You break from this kiss, panting, "Kai, i don't wanna have sex but-"

He stills, looking up at you worriedly.

"-can we take our clothes off, because i'm really turned on right now and the clothes aren't helping," you finish.

"Yeah, of course," he chirps, pulling off your t-shirt and tank top in one go, taking off his own in a hurry too. You get off him, pushing down your shorts and tossing them away with your foot to see Kai settling back.

"Should i take my pants off too?" He questions, hand resting on the waistband.

"Maybe? I like this look though," you gesture at his naked top half, the perfect washboard stomach.

He reclines back onto the bed and pats his lap, "Come on."

You don't waste a second, clambering onto him. He pushes down his sweatpants just enough for his cock to spring out, settling against your belly. Your insides clench just at that, even before he tugs you forward, effectively rubbing his cock against your folds. You let out a squeak. It feels so warm. And hard.

"Try grinding however you like," Kai encourages, "I wanna see you get off."

"I think we progressed a little too fast," you chuckle, rubbing yourself experimentally against the vein ridging his cock on the underside. The pressure is perfect. You could come in minutes if left to your own devices.

"I have been pining after you for years, i really don't mind," he brushes a strand of hair away from your face. "Besides, i've seen you naked too many times for it to affect me."

"The situation differs, you know?" You lean forward, kissing him, grinding slowly, ever drag of your hips letting your feel his entire cock on your cunt.

"Of course, now i don't have to jerk off into my hand," he kisses you, gripping your hip, adjusting so there is maximum contact between your pelvises.

"fuck, kai-" you hiss, gripping his shoulder tightly.

"Did it hurt?"

"No it felt very good instead," you can feel the blood rushing to your ears, your cheeks, and of course, the blood rushing south.

"Go on, get yourself off," he lets go of your hip, reclining back to watch.

"I-"

"Shush, don't talk, just do what you need to," he strokes your thigh, encouraging. Always so damn encouraging and sweet. No wonder you fell for your best friend.

You rock your hips, slowly, not sex yet, not penetrative sex at least, but it gets you on the brink of orgasm quickly, cunt throbbing dully when you whimper, "I'm gonna come, Kai."

"That's good, you're doing good," he squeezes your thighs with both palms as your motions increase, become slightly more frantic when you feel the beginnings of the oncoming orgasm, clit throbbing every time the head of his cock nudges against that bundle of nerves.

"Kai-" you choke on your words, orgasm ripping through you with such unforeseen intensity that your hips falter. His fingers reach down, rubbing your clit quickly, harshly, dragging out that orgasm which has you gasping, eyes scrunched shut tightly.

He slows down when he feels you stop convulsing, the pleasure a dull echo now, leaving behind a state of bliss.

"Think you can help me finish?" He questions gently.

"Mhm, what would you like?"

"Can i come on your tits?" He questions with utmost sincerity.

"Yep," you lean back, exposing your chest to him.

"Actually you know what, grind on me again, i can probably come from this," he swallows, seeing the rosy buds and resisting the urge to take them into his mouth. In the end he gives in to the urge, with you grinding and him sucking on your nipples, he spills onto his stomach with a quiet, extremely hot groan.

You feel slightly over stimulated but seeing kai's face contorted with pleasure was definitely worth it.

You clean yourself and Kai up with tissues and water from your bathroom. Neither of you can take a shower without waking everyone else up, so this will have to do.

When the two of you slip back into bed, he spoons you, kissing the back of your head. Your eyes have gotten used to the dark by then and you see when Bahiyyih turns around, the whites of her eyes almost glowing in the dark.

"I know what you two did, and i'm telling unnie in the morning," she hisses.

"Well... fuck," Kai whispers against your hair, continuing spooning you before drifting off to sleep.

#hueningkai x reader #txt hard hours #txt smut #kpop smut #kpop imagines #txt fanfic #hueningkai smut #i just love him sm #he has wrecked me so bad #blond hueningkai is such a beauty #excessive use of the word 'cock' because idk any other words for it i'm sorry😭

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writersblockedx · 2 years

Text

Stick and Poke

Pairing - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Summary - While Y/n finally escaped her years of captivity in Hawkins Lab, the numbered tattoo on her wrist still haunts her. Eddie comes up with an idea to cover it up. Warnings - Mentions of violence, insomnia. Mainly fluff :) Words - 900

MASTERLIST

Eddie had called it their 'winding down time'. Y/n had always struggled to sleep - way before her and Eddie had even met. In fact, if she thought back hard enough, she could trace it way back to her nights held captive at the lab. But as she was set free and given a home with her sister, Eleven, her nightmares seemed to only got worse. It was if the memorises were taunting her. As if, while she may not be stuck in a hospital gown anymore, she wasn't yet free from it all.

When her and Eddie started dating, she never had the guts to tell him about it. Only El and Hopper knew. The people she knew would never judge her for it. But when the boy offered for her to stay the night at his, he ended up finding out anyway.

And in the night, as she woke up in a cold sweat, the tone of the doctors and the distinct screams echoing in her mind, Eddie woke up too. He didn't ask questions. At least, not in that moment. He calmed Y/n all through the night, never daring to let his touch fall from her. She admitted to the nightmares, and not long after, the entire backstory of the 004 tattoo that scarred her skin.

But since then, the boy came up with a plan: To put comfy clothes on, play one of his mixtapes (one of which was on a low volume) and snuggle into one another until sleep reached them.

And Y/n had to be honest, it was the only thing that had worked. She wasn't quite sure why. There were still nights she woke from a nightmare, but never near as many as before. Maybe it was that secure feeling Eddie gave her. And falling asleep in his arms, with his music playing in that background and his scent crowding her nostrils, it only seemed to strengthen that security.

One night, Y/n had been mindlessly tracing her finger tips against one of his tattoos. She let her lips smile as she glanced up at the boy who had already been watching her. "I like your tattoos." She told him as her nails followed the ink against his skin.

He smirked down at her, "Yeah?"

She nodded lightly against his chest before her smile faded and her eyes fell to the 004 that was marked against her wrist. "I don't like mine." Y/n admitted as even just the sight of it rung distance screams in her head.

Eddie was silent as his hand took a hold of her own, brining up to his lips gently as he pressed a kiss to the ink. But as he looked back at the girl, her expression was still as sorrow as it had be prior. "I can cover it up for you, if you want?" He offered.

Her brows raised in curiosity, "Cover it up?" Eddie looked over to his bed side, Y/n following his gaze as she found the ink set he used on himself to save him the money of getting his tattoos professionally done.

He glanced back at her as she sat up from laying against his chest. His fingers reached up to the bottom of her chin, gently pulling her face back to look at him. "Do you want me to?" She nodded almost instantly. "Well then, what would you want over it?" He asked.

Y/n took a moment as her eyes wondered around Eddie's room as if searching for inspiration from the band posters or dirty clothes that littered the floor. Her eyes found a couple of rings that were scattered across his bed side. She leaned over and picked at one, inspecting it before pointing out the cross in the middle of the sliver. "This?" She questioned for his opinion.

Eddie shuffled as he sat up in bed, glancing over the metal. "You sure?" He asked for assurance.

"Yes."

And so the couple shifted in the bed as Eddie gathered what he needed. He gently took hold of Y/n's wrist and, before he even let the needle bleed into her skin, he checked in with her, "This might hurt, okay?"

She seemed uncertain but agreed anyway, "Okay."

"Let me know if it hurts too much." She nodded and watched as the prick of the needle hit her wrist. She winced instantly until her body got used to the stinging pain. And soon enough, Y/n settled, watching Eddie's focused expression as the ink infected her flesh. He referred back to the ring, copying the design until the last prick. "Is that okay?" He questioned after wiping away at the tattoo with it's finished look.

The girl grinned so brightly Eddie wished he had a camera to capture it. "Perfect." She told him and soon, her smile reflected his.

As he put the needles and ink away, something seemed to surface in his thoughts. "Will Hopper be okay with this?"

Y/n chuckled and shook her head, "No."

Not that it mattered. All Y/n cared for was that her tattoo was gone. As was any reminder of her dreaded past.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #x reader #imagine #fanfiction

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subspencer · 3 years

Note

spencer has been on a case for a couple weeks now, and he’s coming back tonight. his plane was delayed so he wouldn’t have gotten home until really late so you try your hardest to stay awake by doing different things that google says helps, and eventually you fall asleep reading a book or something and when spencer comes home he sees you and just moves you to get comfy and kisses your head, then you wake up and then some fluff or smut doesn’t matter<33

hiii i wrote this all last night! it’s a bit of both fluff and smut!

wc: 1.4k

According to Google, the scent of pumpkin was known to arouse men, especially when combined with the scent of lavender. So you lit a bunch of different candles, a few of both scents, plus dozens of smaller ones to line the windowsills.

Chocolate is another aphrodisiac, as you’ve heard. You hand-dipped fresh strawberries in the fanciest chocolate money could buy, plating them up next two two champagne flutes and a chilled bottle of bubbly. It was the least you and Spencer deserved after weeks apart.

Everything looked great, until he texted you at nine-thirty in the evening, at the time you were expecting his plane to land.

I’m so sorry, a massive storm came through. Plane never left. We’re getting back on now, hope to land in a few hours.

Well, fuck. You were so prepared for him; all dressed up, glasses already poured, candles lit, and a set of new lingerie on.

But it was only three hours. That’s all that separated you from Spencer, and after so many days, you could manage to busy yourself for a few hours. He was worth the wait.

You passed eighty minutes by watching some tv, another twenty while playing a game on your phone, and twenty more by going back to the tv. Two hours down, one more to go. But you made the fatal mistake of having some of that champagne while you waited, and staying awake seemed harder to do with every passing minute.

With no coffee in the house to keep yourself up, you resorted to the internet again. The first search result was a listicle of tips and tricks:

1. Get Up and Walk Around

Okay, done. And while you walked around, you also accomplished tip number four, “Eat a Healthy Snack to Boost Energy”. With a whole, peeled carrot in one hand, you paced around Spencer’s apartment while chomping on the vegetable for a good ten minutes.

It worked, but only a little. So, you tried another item.

5. Start a Conversation to Wake Up Your Mind

It was a total bust. At goddamn eleven forty five in the evening, on a week night, not many people would be excited to pick up the phone. You tried a few numbers and all of them went to voice mail.

On to the next one.

3. Give Your Eyes a Break

Okay, so no screens. You put your phone down, shut the television off, and walked over to Spencer’s bookcase. Running your fingers along their spines, you were in awe of how many books he had. It was too many to pick from, so instead, you went to his bedside table and picked up the book he was last reading in bed.

You almost fell into the trap of sitting in bed to read it. You knew if you did that, you’d fall asleep right away. So you took it to the couch, grabbing one of his sweaters off his armchair on the way, and tossing it overhead.

In a bid of hope, you never got out of that lingerie you put on for him, but now it was starting to get chilly. You promised yourself to take it off the second you heard his keys hit the door; he’d never have to know you were anything less than the perfectly seductive piece you were dressed up as.

But, Jesus fucking Christ. Spencer reads some boring books.

Not boring, maybe, but ones that have words just in the damn title that you don’t even understand. You strained your mind through four of the pages, which took at least another twenty minutes anyways, and decided that was more than enough.

You checked your phone again, hoping for a miracle. And it came to you in the form of a text from Spencer.

Just landed!

Got news that all the roads are blocked off. Trains are closed, Morgan’s gonna drive me home, but it could still take at least an hour :(

There wasn’t even a moment to be excited about the first part before you swiped out of the messages app and angrily pulled up that listicle again. All the other suggestions were rubbish; you weren’t going to go exercise in a snowstorm, there wasn’t any fucking sunlight at past midnight, and you’d already drank tons of water.

There was one item on the list you hadn’t tried yet.

2. Take a Nap to Take the Edge Off Sleepiness

That was tempting. Spencer did say it would be another hour, and as he’s informed you many times before, a twenty-minute nap was all it took to get the optimal nap in.

You caved. But you made sure to set your phone alarm for twenty minutes out, and yet another after that just in case. Fluffing Spencer’s sofa cushions up, you tucked one under your head and laid down.

You woke up just moments before Spencer came home. He walked in to find you waiting for him, clad in the hottest red lingerie he’d ever laid eyes on. After weeks of being apart, he didn’t have the time for words. He dropped his bags at the door and wordlessly stormed over, bringing his hands to either side of your face and gripping you tightly as he covered your mouth with his own.

Your mouths worked furiously together, and his hands dropped low on your hips before throwing all caution to the wind and palming your ass. With both hands just below your ass, he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked you to the wall and pinned you against it. Your pussy was leveled perfectly against his hard dick. He grinded himself against you, moaning at the sweet friction. His head was buried in your neck, sucking so deliciously.

“Spencer,” you moaned his name, low and rolling, as he shifted your panties aside. “Mmm, feels so good baby.”

He carefully set you down and dropped to his knees, putting his face between your legs instead. His tongue pressed along the length of your seam. You let your eyes close as you dropped your head back onto the wall.

“Fuck, Spencer!” you couldn’t stop moaning it. Every other breath became the sound of his name.

And then, you felt a kiss on your forehead. And a palm on your shoulder. Your eyes flickered open, fully and for real this time.

Next thing you knew, Spencer was kneeling on the floor. Not between your legs, but by your side while you were laid out on the couch, gently shaking you awake.

“Hi,” he smiled as you finally blinked your eyes awake. “Havin’ a good dream, I hope?”

You grumbled, disappointed both that it wasn’t real, and that you’d fallen asleep. “No, no, it wasn’t supposed to be like this!” you pouted, sitting up. “I was supposed to wake up and, and –”

“Be ready for me?” He quirked a brow as he surveyed the room.

There were dozens of blown-out candles under the open windows, carrying a cool evening breeze. An untouched plate of chocolate strawberries, and a less-untouched bottle of champagne. You, clad in something silky and red, that made you look like a present waiting to be unwrapped. And also, his chunky knit sweater.

“I tried, I promise. I did everything, I even read that book of yours,” you gestured to it on the coffee table, barely cracked open.

“Well, it’s no wonder you fell asleep then,” he laughed.

“I’m so sorry, Spence.”

He only shook his head and pushed your shoulders back down until you were lying on the couch again.

“Don’t apologize.” He pulled your knees closer to him, hooking the leg closest to him over his far shoulder and nestling himself inside. “To find my girlfriend waiting for me, in my home,” he stopped to kiss the inside of your knee, “in my sweater,” and then the other one, “and in this, too?”

Spencer pushed up the hem of the sweater, exposing the fancy lingerie you had under. His large hands rested on your sides as he dove in to kiss your belly, right above the mesh garter belt you wore. From there, he kissed a line all the way down, stopping before reaching your panties.

“Well, that’s all I could’ve asked for.” He gave you a smirk before hooking one finger into your panties and pulling them to the side. He dragged his tongue over you. “So, why don’t you tell me what that dream was about?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds smut #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid imagine #blurb

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xpeachesncream · 4 years

Text

bands | eleven

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 5.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, club scene, alcohol consumption, mentions of intoxication, mentions of dancing at the club, little bit of those insecurities coming back into play, good ol’ phone sex in the hotel room, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, oral (m. & f. receiving), multiple orgasms, fingering, breast play, doggy style, hair pulling, slight choking, creampie

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi @jimidol @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @preciouschimine @sunniejinnie @cypheruby @cyb3rbab3 @masterlists101 @awhnamjoon @redhedhoseok @wooya1224 (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Club tonight before we go back home?" Taehyung grips onto Jungkook's shoulders as they walked out of the venue and into their cars that would take them back to the hotel.

"Club?"

"Yeah, come on. Everyone said yes so far! It's been so long since all of us have gone to the club together without it being a special occasion." Jungkook sighs. That statement was true, and he did love being able to hangout with everyone all together. However, he can't lie - he missed you. He barely had time to text or call you this entire trip like he wanted, and he all he wanted was to hear your voice and see your face until he could finally have you physically in his arms again.

"Fuck." Jungkook does a slight head tilt before letting out a small sigh. "Yeah, I'll come along." Taehyung smiles from ear to ear, squeezing his shoulder.

"I'm sure your girl won't mind if we steal you for a little tonight." Jungkook doesn't respond to Tae's statement and simply shakes his head with a small smile. To be honest, the guys were a little surprised to see that whole thing erupt between Jungkook and Bigs. They didn't think he was actually serious about you, the mysterious girl. Jimin, on the other hand, wouldn't dare say a word and simply lent a small chuckle or smile as his participation during their 'lets tease jeongguk' hours. But eventually, it all became a running joke and the boys learned to leave Jungkook alone because as they've learned before, Jungkook does what Jungkook wants.

He gets away with shit.

He cleans himself up and throws on a button up shirt with ripped black jeans and boots, fluffing his hair a bit before he steps back out and meets up with the boys.

[jungkook] 9:49pm: going out with the boys tonight

[y/n] 9:51pm: lol cheer up, have fun party pooper

[jungkook] 9:52pm: fineeeeeeee :( can i call you later?

[y/n] 9:55pm: you can always call me, i just don't know if i'll always pick up :)

[jungkook] 9:57pm: try and stay up please

[y/n] 10:01pm: maybe lol

He slightly smirks to himself. Hopefully you'd stay up, but he was starting to realize you always fell asleep early and that was okay too. He'd just have to wait to see you when he gets back tomorrow.

Once the boys have arrived at the club of choice, security escorts them to their VIP section, the club already packed from wall to wall with people screaming left and right. There's already a few bottle girls, and other girls waiting for them in the VIP from lord knows where, but Jungkook knows he's not trying to mess with any of it tonight. He truly didn't wanna be here, but to keep his boys happy, he decided to tag along and hang out.

"So many beautiful ladies." Jimin swings his arm around his torso and smirks.

"Go get 'em, champ." Jungkook chuckles.

"I would, if they all weren't eyeing you." He shakes his head.

"She's not eyeing me, she's looking at you." He nods towards a pretty, fair-skinned female with long, voluminous black hair. She's definitely eyeing Jimin, biting onto the tip of her finger as she tries to seduce him through her eyes. Her look. "Go." Jungkook slightly pushes him towards her, smiling as he stood back and watched. The rest of the boys were already enjoying themselves, either dancing around alone [aka Min Yoongi and Seokjinnie] or hopping behind girls for a dance.

"Why aren't you dancing with anyone?" Yoongi laughs. "I figured you would be the first to hop on someone."

"I don't feel like it." He takes a sip of his drink, hand dug deep into his pocket.

"You don't feel like it, or you're too busy missing your girlfriend?" Jin joked.

"I don't have a girlfriend!"

"Mhm, sure." Jin laughs. "You could at least reward yourself with a dance." Jungkook shrugs. Technically, he could. It was just a dance, and you still weren't his girlfriend even though he thought of you pretty seriously. But he knew how this would go, and it would get messy quick - especially with the way females nowadays loved to create drama and claim him. He wasn't up for it. And he didn't wanna do anything to hurt you, or disappoint you. The thought alone makes him feel terrible. You were just so pure-hearted, there was no way he could do anything to hurt your feelings.

"Aye!" Jimin comes over and grabs him by the shoulders, swinging him around to face the ladies once more. "That girl I was dancing with is here with her bestfriend."

"And?" Jungkook chuckled. Okay, so? Lol.

"Bro, come on. Just go dance with her and have fun. She's interested in you." He shakes his head, but Jimin is already pushing him over, the force behind his movements stronger than what Jungkook can endure after the day they've had. He clumsily follows along, his lips pursed in a fine line as he approaches Jimin's girl [of the night] and her bestfriend. She had dark brown hair, stood at about 5'7 and wore high waisted shorts and a bralette-type of crop top. She was really trying for some dick tonight. He gives her a small, toothless smile as she beams from ear to ear, shying behind her bestfriend. She was cute, but she was no you, no disrespect.

"This is Yeji!" Her bestfriend exclaims, damn near throwing her right onto Jungkook like her life depended on it. Jungkook places his hands out to support her but brings them back once she's found her footing again. Definitely drunk.

"Hi." She blushes.

"Hey." Jungkook smiles back, sipping on his drink. Jimin is still hanging onto his shoulder, trying his best to egg him on and Jungkook can't help but smile and nod awkwardly at him. He attempts to back away, but Jimin shoves him closer while laughing.

"Have fun!" Jimin flashes him a quick look, confused at what the fuck he was doing right now trying to turn her down like that. But, he instantly flips the switch as he accompanies her bestfriend to the dance floor again.

"Can I get you a drink or something? Water, even?" Jungkook offers to be nice. He can already hear you scolding him in his head - pinching him on the arm and saying that he needs to be nicer to people. But to be honest, he really doesn't know what the fuck to do with her.

"Water's good, I should start sobering up." She giggles as Jungkook nods and pours her a cup of water. He hands it to her and stands beside her, awkwardly eyeing the crowd in front of them. "Hey, I caught your performance today. You looked good! You all looked really good."

"Thanks." He smiles.

"Do you wanna dance for a little?"

"Uh, actually—" Jungkook suddenly feels the both of their bodies press against each other before Jimin's drunk laugh erupts right behind his ear. Jungkook backs away with his hands up, shaking his head.

"Hey come on, if he doesn't wanna dance don't force him." Yoongi says, almost in a scolding manner.

"I'm sorry, I'm just not really in the best dancing mood right now. Pretty tired." He says to Yeji before he gives her an apologetic look and walks over to his hyungs who aren't busy with girls. He's getting more and more annoyed with the way Jimin has been acting lately, but he was trying to keep his cool - careful not to start anything. He knew Jimin wasn't a fan of you with the way he talked about you that one morning before the photoshoot. He loves him, that's his brother for life. But if he wanted to get disrespectful, he didn't have a problem putting him in his place.

Throughout the night, Yeji is sticking to her friend and Jimin, still hoping she could get something started between her and Jungkook, but she doesn't succeed. Jungkook purposely keeps his distance from Jimin and the rest of the girls around them in the VIP section, perfectly content to be staying around Yoongi and Jin.

When they've finally called it a night, Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon and Hobi are all pretty drunk out of their minds - their asses more than ready to risk it all by sneaking in their girl of choice to their hotel rooms.

"Let me know so Yeji can come too." Jungkook waves his hand to dismiss the statement.

"Nah. I'm good, really, thanks."

"What, all of a sudden you're a goody two shoes for your stripper girlfriend?" Jungkook shoots him a look but brushes it off, blaming it on the alcohol in Jimin's system right now.

"I'm just tired and gonna head to bed, that's it."

"Whatever." Jimin drunkily responds, the four of their drunk asses continuing to be loud as hell in the hallway until they all separate and go off to their own rooms.

"Don't be loud and shit, I want my sleep tonight." Yoongi says before shutting his door.

Finally, peace and quiet.

Jungkook sighs as he looks at his watch, the time nearing 1:30am. He slips out of his clothes, takes a quick shower and gets himself ready for bed before he's shutting off the lights. A hotel bed has never felt so comfortable in his life, but the only thing that was missing was you.

And to be completely honest, he was pretty fucking horny. Having all this pent up sexual frustration just from missing you these past couple of days alone, he couldn't take it. He hopes to god you're awake right now because he's been wanting to hear your voice and hearing your voice alone—

"Jungkook." You say softly on the other line, Jungkook's eyes slightly shutting from the sound of your voice.

Your voice alone was enough to turn him the fuck on.

"You're awake, babygirl."

"Barely." You chuckle. "I'm snuggled into my sheets, but you told me to wait up for you."

"And you actually waited. Thank you, cutie." He smiles to himself. "What'd you do today?"

"Just work my shift at the restaurant, then head home. I don't really do anything outside of work and hangout with Kai, you know this." You chuckle. "How was the club?"

"It was alright." He sighs.

"Did all the pretty ladies get a dance with Jeon Jungkook?"

"Ah, but you're the only pretty lady I know about." He chuckles, making you blush. "But no, I wasn't necessarily in the mood."

"But you're at a club, how could you not be?"

"Too tired. Besides, just wanted to come back here and talk to you. I feel like I haven't gotten to talk to you as much since we've been here."

"It's okay, you need to do what you need to do."

"I can't wait to see you when I get back."

"I can't either."

"You and your pretty face."

"What is up with you? Are you drunk?" You softly laugh.

"No, not really. Why, I can't miss you?"

"Never said that, Jungkook. I miss you, too." You giggled, giving him some affection since it's been a couple of days and you actually missed his presence too.

"Yeah? How much do you miss me, baby?" Your eyes slightly widen cause you can most definitely pick up on his tone, plus the 'baby' pet name made your pussy hop a little. He wanted you, and he knew just the right ways to get to you worked up already.

"A lot."

"Mmm." He hums breathily, causing you to bite your bottom lip. "Are you gonna show me just how much you missed me when I get back?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe, what?" He chuckles deeply. "Tell me, babygirl." He begins to slowly palm himself through his boxers. "How do you want me to show you?" You shut your eyes, the heat quickly building in your core.

"Jungkook." You let out a breathy moan. "What are you trying to do right now?"

"God, I just wanna feel you." He says, completely passing up your question. "I just wanna feel you all around me. Would you like that, my pretty lady? Me all up inside you?" At this point, Jungkook is hard as hell, whipping his hardened member free from its confines. He lets out a breath at how free he feels, finally able to stroke himself nice and slow. He toys with the pre-cum pooling at his tip, using it as some kind of lubricant as he strokes himself up and down, gripping a little tighter towards the base.

"Yes." Your hand slips through your shorts and your panties, gently rubbing at your clit as you listen to Jungkook's deep voice on the other line. You slip your hand a little further down, feeling how wet you already are. You silently whimper to yourself, spreading your wetness in and around your folds, picturing Jungkook doing the work for you.

"Don't be shy, baby. Tell me what you want. Use your words."

"I want you inside of me."

"Inside where?"

"My pussy." He softly groans into the phone, his grip getting tighter by the minute as he fucks himself into his hand.

"Are you touching yourself right now?"

"Yes."

"That's my good girl." He moans with you. "Just wanna fuck you so badly. Show you how special you are to me."

"Jungkook." You whine, as you slip in a finger and quickly fuck yourself with it, the sounds of your wetness echoing in your tiny space. "Fuck I'm so wet for you."

"That's it." He hisses. "Fuck yourself for me until I get back. Can't wait to taste you and fill you up."

"Want you so bad, want you to fuck me so good until I cry." You say, not even realizing the shit you're saying right now as you rub your clit and work your hips in tandem. You begin to whimper a little louder, ready to hurdle off the edge with the pressure you're applying.

"Yeah?" His mouth is agape, barely any noises being released due to the overwhelming sensation that's taking over his body. "Want me to fucking ruin you, baby? Are you ready for that?"

"Always." You moan. "Ahh—Kook, I'm gonna cum."

"Cum all around this dick, sweetheart. It's yours." The words are enough to unravel you, sending you spiraling out of control with the pleasure taking all over your body - inch by inch.

"Oh fuck, Jungkook! Ughhhhhhfffffuck." You groan into the phone as you continue to move your hips into your hand, fingers pressed tightly against your clit.

"Shiiiiiiiit." Jungkook moans as his hips are moving quicker and sloppier, the image of him ramming his cock into you from behind while choking you has him toppling him over the edge. "Mmmmmgod, babygirl."

"The fuck, Jungkook." He chuckles as he regulates his breathing.

"Just miss you, that's all." You hear him stirring in the back, probably cleaning himself up just as you are with yourself. "Stay on the phone with me?" When he does have the time to call you while he's been away, he's always asked for you to stay on the line - facetime or regular call - just so it seems like you're next to him. What you did to deserve this soft Jeon Jungkook, you had no idea. But you were gonna take it and run as far as you could, because fuck. You liked-liked him.

"Okay." You yawn.

"I can still take you out on a date, right?" He yawns shortly after, the domino effect hitting him.

"Of course." You softly chuckle, your eyes getting heavy from all the energy you just spent.

"Okay. I just wanna make sure cause I'm already planning this."

"Planning, huh?"

"Gotta put in the effort." Silence. "Night sweetheart, sleep tight."

"Night." You barely manage to say before you're off into a deep sleep.

You knew Jungkook would be back today, but you weren't sure what time. From the sounds of it, it seemed like it would be really late and you'd have to wait until tomorrow to see him. Which, bums you the fuck out. You just longed for his company and to be in his arms again because it's the safest you've felt in such a long time.

Oh, well.

At least it gave you some time to plan out Kai's birthday gift and celebration cause you still had no fucking idea. He was going to spend majority of the day with his friends at their favorite arcade, but you promised him dinner.

Were you really just going to take him to get Loco Moco from the hawaiian mom and pop shop down the street for his 18th birthday?

What the fuck were you even gonna give him?

You figured you could go shopping for some clothes? Or, check out what new games came out for the playstation that he might be interested in playing. Orrrrr find some comic books and give him--

Knock, knock, knock.

You checked your clock, startled at the heavy knocks coming from your door. It was barely after dinner, the sun still up but preparing to make its way down below the horizon. You had no idea why you suddenly felt nervous and scared, afraid of who you'd see through the peephole. Bigs popped into your head, the goosebumps hitting the surface of your skin. You really hoped it wasn't him trying to cause trouble - or anyone else related for that matter.

You slowly stood up, holding your arms closely against your chest. You tippytoed to check your peephole but it was pitch black, as if someone had been covering it with their finger. Was Kai playing games with you? Did he suddenly get dropped off or take the bus? You didn't have plans with him.

You slowly open a crack, seeing a smiley Jungkook waving at you from behind the door. You swing the door open and latch onto him like a koala, causing him to drop his duffle bag and wrap his arms around you tightly.

"Jungkook, what the fuck! You scared me!" You say into his neck, taking in his scent.

"Why?" He laughs as he gently helps you down and follows you into your apartment.

"It seemed like you weren't gonna be home till late."

"Seemed." He smirked.

"Hey!" You gently push him after you close your door. "How'd you know my door code and which apart—"

"Kai." You both say in unison.

"Ugh, I'm gonna kill him." You whine.

"It's his birthday soon, though. Let him turn 18."

"Ugh, I'm gonna kill him after his birthday." You repeat as you plop back onto your bed, Jungkook dropping his duffle and plopping next to you.

"Cozy place." He says, face down onto your mattress, causing you to run your hand through his fluffy hair.

"It's teeny tiny."

"No, it's perfect. Perfectly sized and cozy." He reassures you as he finally lays on his side to face you.

"Did you just hop off the plane?"

"Sure did."

"Did you eat anything?"

"Yeah, I ate something small on the plane. I'm not that hungry."

"You sure?" You asked, genuinely concerned.

"Mhm." He throws an arm lazily across your legs as he closes his eyes for a quick minute. You continue to run your hand through his hair, a notification on his screen catching your attention.

[unknown number] 6:37pm: hi! this is yeji from the club. :) i hope you don't mind, jimin passed on your number and said we should get into contact.

First of all - Why the fuck does Jungkook have his notifications set so that you can see what the goddamn message is on the lock screen?!

Second - Yeji?

Third - Of course Jimin would have slipped her his number. He hates you for whatever fucking reason.

Another text came in from her but you pulled your eyes away from his phone. This wasn't your business. But let's be real, your heart sank a little knowing he might have been acting up at the club, dancing with hella other girls and getting hella other numbers. It kind of made your insecurities resurface all over again. You weren't his girlfriend though, none of this was exclusive. So, did you really have a right to feel this way?

You brush it off quickly, trying to remind yourself who the hell you were before Jungkook came around [but god, was he making you a softy]. He wasn't exactly yours to claim; however, you were the one he came home to. Technically. Calling you all hot and bothered cause he missed you.

Yes bitch, please.

You're pulled out of your internal battle when Jungkook stirs a little to check his phone, your hand still lightly weaving through his hair as you press your lips together. He reads the notifications, deletes it from the screen and locks his phone again.

"The boys bothering you?" You decide to ask in a way that doesn't yell 'yes I saw her pop up on your phone, sir.'

"Nah. No one important really."

"Oh okay." Bummer. You lowkey expected him to be honest with you, but was that too soon for you? You just through this in your head - this wasn't exclusive.

"Lay with me, pretty lady. Let's watch something."

"You mean finish Gone Girl?" You quickly flip the switch and smirk at him, making him laugh.

"Oh shit, that's right. Not my fault you straddled me." You slightly gasp.

"Not my fault you fucking batted your eyelashes at me, talking about ‘can I tell you something?'" He scrunched his nose and tickled your sides, causing you to yelp and crash your body back down onto the bed. He continues to tickle you until you're begging for him to stop - his body over yours, but he was careful not to put all his weight on you. "Ouch, Jungkook!" You whine.

"You finished making fun of me?"

"You started it!"

"You're so fucking cute, you know that?" He lowers himself down to your lips, pressing them gently against yours. Your hands get tangled within his hair again, pressing him down slightly onto you so you could feel him, feel his warmth. The kiss deepens quick as Jungkook settles himself in between your legs, your tongues at war with each other. He groans into the kiss, his soft, large hands roaming up your shirt and sending sparks throughout your body. "I missed you." He bites your bottom lip and sucks it gently before pulling back. He helps remove the shirt over your head before unhooking your bra in a swift motion and tossing it off to the side.

"I missed you too." You say at a whisper as he grabs both of your breasts and plants kisses along the surface before swirling his tongue around your sensitive, perked buds. He hooks onto your shorts and panties quick, aggressively tugging them down and off.

"So fucking perfect for me." He says, planting kisses along your sides

"I hate it when you do that." You hiss as he begins part your legs wider, pushing your thighs out as he lowers his lips onto your folds. You truly did hate it - you couldn't stand it only because that shit drove you crazy. Someone like Jungkook calling you perfect, god please.

"Hate what, babygirl?"

"Call me perfect like that." You let out a small whimper when you feel his wet tongue glide against your folds, slowly poking in and out of them as he stares at you from between your thighs.

"But you are. Want me to show you?"

"Hmmmm." You whine. "Quit." He slightly chuckles against your pussy, but continues going to work - slipping in two digits and curving them just to tickle you in the right spots. "Ahhhh, Kook please."

"Mhm." He says, picking up the pace with his fingers, allowing your wetness to glaze them. He suddenly removes them from you short after, a small whine leaving your lips at the loss of contact.

"Ohshiiiiiit. You're gonna make me cum." Jungkook begins to run his tongue up and down your pussy once more, his tongue penetrating your entrance ever so slightly before swiping it up to your clit to suck on it. He motorboats into your pussy, his head moving right and left in such a quick pace that you're tugging on his hair and jutting your hips into his mouth. His tongue starts to pet your clit with its tip - the repeated movements enough for you to reach your climax, your thighs almost keeping Jungkook in between until you could bring yourself back down from your high. "Aghhhhohhhmygod!" Jungkook smirks as he sits up, sticking his two fingers into his mouth before releasing himself from his sweats and boxers.

"Fuck, you taste so good." He slightly groans. Your breathing hitches seeing his hardened member, making you drool at the sight. You already feel dizzy imagining him filling you up with that thing, but you knew you wanted take care of him first - make him feel good, make him feel special. Take him, every inch. You crawl over and take his cock into your hands, spitting onto it before you slowly stroke him up and down. "Ohhhhhbabygirl." His words mesh together as he tilts his head back. You lower your lips onto his tip, tasting every single drop of pre-cum pooling at the area before running your tongue down his shaft and taking him. You get about halfway before you swirl your tongue around suck, pulling back with a slight pop. You stroke towards the base as your mouth is doing work on the other half of his cock. Jungkook has his hand in your hair, and you can feel his grip tightening as he slowly moves your head up and down along his cock. "Can you take me? All of me?" You nod. "Yeah? Fucking take it then." He spits out as he lowers you all the way down, keeping his tip against your throat until he feels you gag. "Oh, fuck!"

"Fuck!" You say, tears brimming your eyes, ready to stream your cheeks as you watch the trail of saliva from his tip to your mouth fall.

"You're doing so fucking good." He says as he watches you while guiding you down length, bobbing your head a little rougher and more aggressively this time around. Your saliva is damn near dripping out of your mouth, the entire scene getting sloppier by the minute, but you honestly didn't care. You were so turned on that all you wanted after this was for Jungkook to fuck you crazy hard, until you couldn't take it anymore. You were so fucking attracted to this man. "One more for me, baby." He moans, lowering you down his entire length again, his tip tickling your throat a lot longer than the first time that your tears are actually coming down this time around. You cough when he finally pulls you back, more saliva trailing from the tip to your mouth. "See, so perfect for me. Taking me in so well like your mouth was fucking made for me." He grabs your chin, placing a kiss against your lips before gently pushing you back down onto the bed. "Turn around and get on your knees, sweetheart."

"I want you so bad." You whine, his hand trailing down your back as he positions your ass up and gets your face as close to the mattress as possible.

"Don't you worry, princess. I'll take good care of you." He lines himself up, his dick incredibly wet from you sucking him like your life depended on it. He slides in with ease, the both of you moaning loudly at the feeling - the feeling of warmth, and feeling so fucking full, Jungkook is sure he can feel his tip ready to rearrange your guts in this position. He begins slow, one hand on a hip, while the other is in your hair, making sure your face is deep into the mattress.

"Faster, please!" You plead, Jungkook wasting no time to hammer his cock into your pussy. The sounds are incredibly loud and lewd, and you knew your walls were thin as hell. You were sure your neighbors were definitely having the time of their life listening to you getting destroyed. You cry as he groans, his hands now gripping your hair and tugging you back so that he can slightly see your face with the way he tilts it back.

"Ughhhh, shit babygirl. You feel so good, always so tight for me." He moans as he lets out a couple of breaths from pumping in and out of you so quickly. "Ready for me to make you cry again? That's what you wanted, right?"

"Yes." You say, but he tugs your hair tighter.

"I can't hear you."

"Yeeeees!" You whine. "Yes, fuck, please!"

"Say my name."

"Jungkooook." You moan. "Jungkoook, hmmmmmpfh." Your ass almost feels numb from how hard Jungkook is fucking you right now, but it all leads to the pleasure building up inside of you - pooling right at your core. You were sure you could reach your climax again any moment now, but you were trying your hardest to hold on for as long as you could, enjoying every moment of the pleasure he was bringing you. You didn't want this to be over, even though you could go rounds with him if he wanted to. His hand travels from your hair, down to your neck, gripping just right to choke you and keep your head tilted at an angle. Your yes's are becoming inaudible, moans getting lost in your throat that is feeling constricted from his grip.

"I'm gonna cum, sweetheart. Cum with me." Jungkook says as he thrusts harder, the overwhelming sensation enough to send you into the next dimension. The orgasm ripples through your body, your hand gripping onto his wrist as you tremble and look for support.

"FuckkkkknnnnngJungkook!" You manage to yell. He moans loudly as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, spurts of his cum coating your walls warmly and thickly. He gives you two good slow thrusts before he's slowly pulling out and letting his tip stick the cum back inside of you. "Ahhh, please. Kook." You whimper as you fall onto your bed, tears staining your cheeks once more. He smiles as he picks up his boxers and throws them on, tossing you your panties and his shirt to wear. You slip into them without question, Jungkook coming back onto the bed to lay next to you and caress your body to soothe you.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." You sniff, the aftermath of all the tears you've shed from tonight's fuck session catching up to you.

"Babygirl." He chuckles as he wipes your cheeks and plants a kiss on it. "You need to be careful of what you ask for."

"Shut the hell up and pull up the movie, Jungkook." He laughs, watching you shove your laptop over to him. He pulls up the movie on his Amazon Prime account and snuggles with you under your sheets.

"Sooo, ready for our date?"

"Should I be preparing?" He shrugs.

"Just want you to have a good night with me." His hands are still caressing your sides under his shirt, light kisses being pressed against the nape of your neck. The warmth, and the feeling of his body pressed against yours makes you feel content. Satisfied. Peaceful.

You felt safe. You felt wanted.

youtube

baby we can take it slow, say my name, don't let go, I can hear your body when i pull your hair, what's my name; girl I swear, I can hear your body babe

track ten: body - syd

526 notes · View notes

noteguk · 4 years

Text

for science | jhs | m

— summary; in which Hoseok hears through the grapevine that you give one of the best blowjobs ever, and he needs to test it to be sure.

— contents and warnings; blowjob (duh), dirty talk, praising and stupid pet names, cum eating, deepthroating (the oc has no gag reflex), Hoseok finds heaven, kind of crack? Idk don’t take this seriously, college!au, hoseok x reader (with a mention of past Jimin x reader), studying sessions being interrupted in the name of science

— words; 5,1k

Requested by anon!

Hoseok could be kind of clueless when it came to some science-related things (and his high school biology teacher could attest to that), but one thing he knew very well was the scientific method. All that hypothesis-testing-stuff, or whatever the hell that was (okay, maybe he didn’t know it that well) had taken him out of some trouble in the past. It helped him see some of his decisions in a more experimental light, avoiding the terrible Olympic-somersault-into-conclusions that had gotten so many of his friends into awkward situations. And it shouldn’t even be said that he took quite a bit of pride in that — it made him feel very intelligent and he would take any stroke to the ego that he could get.

So, when Jimin got a bit too tipsy and started babbling on about how you gave him the best blowjob of his life, Hoseok was, at the very least, cautiously skeptical.

“You’re such a drama queen.” Hoseok rolled his eyes before chugging down a bit more of his beer. He was nowhere near as intoxicated as Jimin was, and he wasn’t planning on changing that. It was a Wednesday night, for fuck’s sake. He had to leave some thrill to the end of the week. “It probably was like… alright. Good, even. But the best one ever? Please.”

“It was so much more than alright, dude.” Jimin threw his head over the couch’s back, looking like he just got washed up on the shore. His hair was a mess of clear strands, exploding on his head like a failed science fair experiment. “It was the best suck of my liiiiife. I wish she didn’t hate me so I could have that again.”

He scoffed. Hoseok had enough filter left in him to avoid telling Jimin that the reason why you hated him was entirely his fault — what did he expect from three weeks of ghosting? Besides, if the head was that good, he would surely stick around for just a bit longer than two months. “Sure. Like the time that you almost died riding a roller coaster.”

“Hey. I almost did.” Jimin’s eyes opened, presenting his friend with a dazed-out, unfocused brand of frustration. He was getting tired of not being taken seriously — didn’t Hosoek know that alcohol makes you more honest? He wasn’t making things up. Not when they were as serious as the well-being of his dick, or actual death. “It was some Final Destination bullshit, I’m telling you. Pieces of metal flying and everything.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved it off, leaning closer to Jimin so he could take the almost-empty can of beer from his clumsy hands, and placed it on the center table. “I think you’ve had enough alcohol for tonight, man. You have a class at ten tomorrow.”

“I’m serious, dude,” Jimin pressed on. It was past eleven and Hoseok only wanted to sleep, but the other boy was clearly clueless about the lack of mutual interest in that conversation. “Aren’t you two friends or something?”

“Kind of. It’s weird,” Hoseok answered. You two had lingered in a hazy friendship space for a long time now, and he didn’t know exactly how to explain your relationship. He didn’t really consider you two close by any means, but you weren’t strangers or casual friends either. To be honest, he hadn’t thought too much about it until that very moment. “Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

Jimin sighed, fumbling against the sofa. Much to Hoseok’s delight, he was starting to get sleepy as well. “You could ask her to suck you off,” he mumbled, “then you can feel it for yourself.”

He laughed at that, unable to believe what he was hearing. “Jimin, you’re out of your mind if you think that’s not gonna backfire.”

He blinked heavily. “Hm? Why?”

Hoseok blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “We aren’t that close, and we haven’t done anything remotely sexual before this. It would be super creepy.”

“That’s not true,” Jimin spoke lazily, as if the words were starting to get hard to find. There was a pause so long after his sentence that Hoseok thought his roommate had fallen asleep. “I know you guys made out like at the beginning of the semester. Taehyung told me so.”

He was going to murder Taehyung. “It wasn’t like that. We were both drunk and it was super awkward afterwards.” Hoseok got up from the couch, leaving Jimin to groan and spread out his legs over the cushions. “Listen, I’m glad you two had fun, and I’m sorry you ruined it. But I’m not gonna ask ____ to suck me off just so I can know if you’re being dramatic or not.”

Jimin smirked wickedly — or at least tried to, because his lack of facial control wasn’t doing him any favors. “Whatever you say,” he teased, “but I think you’re curious.”

Truth was: Hoseok was beyond curious. The cogs in his head had started to move, and his brain was evoking lewd images of you so fast that he could barely follow. He would be pretending if he said that he never saw you under that light before, but, after the mess that was your makeout session, he had forced himself to jump into the friendzone before he managed to make things worse.

Hoseok liked you very much, even if you two weren’t particularly close. He enjoyed spending time with you, he found you funny, smart, and way out of his league. But he wasn’t delusional enough to believe that you would actually say yes to sucking him off, especially so out of the blue.

“I’m not curious,” Hoseok lied through his teeth, and he wanted to change the subject so much that his head was starting to hurt. “You’re gonna sleep here?”

“Hm… yes… the couch is very comfortable.” Jimin closed his eyes and adjusted his body on the furniture. His baggy shirt was already halfway through his stomach and his pants had ran up to his waist, but the man didn’t seem to notice. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes, moving towards the door. He needed to get Jimin some blankets, because the other was surely not getting up for the rest of the night. It was bad enough to babysit him for those few hours of intoxication, but infinitely worse to make him chicken soup if he got sick. Been there, done that. “I’m sure the couch is great.”

Jimin’s voice was soft and sleepy when he spoke up again. Hoseok was already in the corridor, and he almost didn’t hear him when he said, “I’m not talking about the couch.”

Hoseok went to Jimin’s bedroom and grabbed his pillow and the blanket from his undone bed. Meanwhile, scenarios ran wild inside his head, having you as the main star. He didn’t know what was taking over him, but he wasn’t so quick to ignore Jimin’s story. Hoseok was faced with a fantastic scenario of a perfect blowjob, and the idea that it was so close to him was making his pulse quicken. Again: it would be absurd to ask you to do that, regardless of the motive behind it, and he knew that it would be awful for your already-strange friendship.

No, he could never do that. He would not.

But like… what if it worked, and you magically accepted his request? And what if, by some wonderful moment, some millennial alignment of planets, Jimin wasn’t actually being hyperbolic and you actually had the ability to give incredible blowjobs? Could he really let it pass without giving it a shot?

He could see it as a scientific experiment, Hoseok thought, as a way to prove a hypothesis. It couldn’t hurt if he just—

Oh my god, dude, shut the fuck up and forget about this.

Coming back to his senses, Hoseok strutted out of his roommate's bedroom and walked toward the living room. By the time he came back with the blanket and the pillow, Jimin was already deep asleep.

Against his best efforts, that conversation remained stuck to the back of his mind for the next two weeks. Hoseok would find himself going back and forth on the idea of you having some strange, Marvel-worthy superpower when it came to sucking dick and, worst of all, the idea that his skepticism was making him miss out on it. Jimin was exaggerated when it came to, well, pretty much everything, but that didn’t mean that he would be wrong about that specific subject. That would be a logical fallacy, and that was also something that Hoseok knew very well. Bless his late nights on Reddit for that.

Yet as the days moved along, and his curiosity was slowly turning into desire, he was forced to revisit the infamous night between the two of you, the one that Jimin had so mercilessly mentioned. Thinking back on it, it wasn’t surprising that your overconsumption of alcohol, added to the way that you two had grown close (both physically and mentally) had ended up with Hoseok laying on top of you, kissing the soul out of you and fondling your breasts in the middle of a party. It wasn’t the most dignified moment of either of your lives, but, well, it happened.

One way or another, the night didn’t move forward. Even if Hoseok already had a tent in his pants, you two were far too intoxicated to consent, and were quick to fall asleep before the situation could escalate. Bottom line: Hoseok woke up with your tit in his hand, a nightmarish hangover, and the decision that the You-Subject would have to stay on hold for some time.

And on hold it stayed. For an entire semester. And it would’ve remained that way if Jimin’s stupid mouth hadn’t started talking.

So after two weeks of self-inflicted psychological torture, Hoseok slipped a hangout invitation amidst your texts. If you saw any second intentions behind his “haven’t seen you in awhile, wanna hangout? ;)” you didn’t let it show. The problem was that you weren’t really in the mood to go out, especially since you had a big exam coming up, so Hoseok ended up convincing you that he would stay quiet if you let him go over to your place.

It was a bit harder not to notice the desperation in his proposal that time, but you ended up agreeing. Your thought process was that the boy would eventually realize that his hangout attempt was ridiculous and that he would leave you to study by yourself, and the two of you would reschedule that odd friendship session to when you weren’t drowning in textbooks.

The problem was that you had been stupid enough to believe that your friend would actually keep his mouth shut.

Hoseok was seated on the edge of your bed for so long that he was sure that his asscheeks were permanently imprinted on your sheets. Because he hated himself, he kept eyeing the digital clock to your right, and he was certain that he had spent the last fifty two minutes and thirty three seconds staring at the back of your head and trying to come up with a casual way to ask for a blowjob.

He had tried a few times already, and each one constituted of him being unable to finish his sentence, instead looking at you like BooBoo The Fool until you turned back around to face your disorganized desk, sighing and trying to concentrate on your work.

All things considered, he couldn’t actually believe he had escalated Jimin’s sailor tale to that point. He was out of his mind, that was a fact, and he had absolutely no clue how you would react once he (if he) found the words to ask you to sacrifice your mouth for science.

God, he was an idiot.

He cleared his throat and got ready to try one more time. “So… I…”

You sighed heavily and turned around on the chair. “Hobi, this is the fifth time you’re starting a sentence and not finishing it,” you said, annoyed. “Can you tell me what the problem is? I have a test in two days and you promised you wouldn’t interrupt me if you came over.”

“I’m sorry,” he didn’t like feeling like a kid being scolded, even if he kind of deserved that. Hoseok guessed it would be better to just take off the band-aid before he made an even bigger fool out of himself. “Let me just, like, explain the context of this. Otherwise it’s going to be even more strange.”

Dropping your pen, you fully swirled the chair around, crossing your hands over your legs. He wasn’t expecting your complete attention anytime soon, and the seriousness in your stare made his courage falter for a second. It was such a stupid idea, you’d just end up hating him like you did Jimin. “As long as you make it quick,” you told him.

Hoseok hesitated, running one hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay, so… like, a few weeks ago I was talking to Jimin,” he started, watching your face for any signal of an expression — confusion, disgust, anything. But he found nothing. “We were drunk, and he started talking about the time that you two were together. Like, sexually.”

You blinked, unfazed. “And?”

“And… he told me that you give, like, the best blowjobs in history,” the words left his mouth before he could fully digest them. This time, he got a reaction out of you — a light raise of your eyebrows. “And, no offense, but I didn’t believe him. You know how extra he is about some stuff. Most stuff.”

There was a moment of silence as you waited for him to go on, but Hoseok was too busy swallowing his thoughts down and feeling like he would collapse at any given moment. You sighed. “So what? You wanted to tell me that you don’t believe in my blowjob abilities? That’s all? Can I go back to studying now?”

“No, that’s…” Now, things were starting to get complicated. Just take off the band-aid, Hoseok, don’t chicken out now. “I wanted to know if you could show me. Like, if you could suck me off. So I could... confirm that hypothesis.”

Every part of his brain was suddently hyperaware of how fucking stupid he just sounded. He had expected that another thick silence would follow, but his heart almost leaped out of your chest when you started laughing at him — like, full-chest, eyes closing, head rolling back laughing. “Are you serious?” You asked, taking one hand to cover your mouth before, at last, bursting out again. He felt like his ego was being stabbed with a rusty nail. “I can’t believe you, Hoseok. Took you all this time just to ask me if I could suck you off? For science?”

His mouth felt like it was full of cotton and he had to clear his throat before he found the force to answer you. “Yeah, I mean, only if you’re comfortable with it, of course,” he struggled to say, each word morphing into the next. His stomach had frozen up and the flight or fight response was starting to kick in. Had he really been that much of an idiot? When did his cock start dictating his words? “I… I know this is like, super creepy. I’m sorry. We can forget this ever happened and I’ll never talk to you again. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Suddenly sad, he waited as you settled back on the chair, wiping a small tear from the corner of your eye before you stared at him. There was still a smirk crawling up your lips, and he felt like the world was collapsing all around him as the silence expanded around the two of you. He looked at the digital clock: it had taken him precisely three minutes to ruin everything.

He sighed, shoulders falling. “Do you hate me? Why are you so quiet?”

You bit down on your lip, your eyes narrowing as you took his form in. Hoseok was hot: point blank. He was also nice, and respectful enough to realize that he might have overstepped a few lines with his request — and, even if you couldn’t really understand it, you also weren’t bothered by it. And you certainly didn’t hate him. In a way, you were almost flattered. You would’ve been more if the comment had come from anyone else but your Danny Phantom ex. But that was a different story.

The entire situation was just too funny to let it go. And, besides, you really wouldn’t mind sucking Hoseok off. It wasn’t as if you had never thought about that before.

“I’m... considering it,” you told him, watching as his face lit up in a mixture of confusion and joy. He looked like a kid seeing Santa for the first time. “If you promise to shut up and let me study, I’ll do it. And if you agree to never talk about it again.”

Hoseok blinked profusely, his mind short circuiting. “For real?”

“Yeah.” You raised from your chair, walking closer to your bed. Hoseok swallowed hard and leaned back, placing his hands on the mattress for support. “But do me a favor: if it’s not that good, don’t tell me. It’ll hurt me.”

“Yeah, alright.” He swallowed dry, every neuron in his brain trying to grasp what the fuck had just happened. His mind was the Spongebob office being set on fire, and he suddenly didn’t know how to deal with the anticipation booming in his chest. “I’m... not hard yet, though.”

“It’s okay.” You kneeled in front of him, placing your hands on his inner thighs and slightly pushing them apart. Hoseok quickly got the cue, and opened a bit more so you could comfortably place yourself between them. “Just... relax,” your voice was almost a whisper then, and he felt his soul trying to leave him. That was insane. “Let me take care of you.”

Your words managed to make him relax a bit, then he tensed all the way back at the feeling of your hands fumbling with his button. His breath hitched as you pulled the zipper down, fingers hooking on the edge of his pants before tugging them down his thighs.

He felt exposed as his pants fell like a puddle around his ankles, his tongue coming out to wet his lips as you leaned in. Hosoek felt like he was dreaming when you started nibbling at his skin, kissing and licking his inner thighs as you slowly made your way closer to his aching member.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he barely got out before sighing, the tingles of your caresses on his skin shooting directly towards his cock, already semi-hard.

You flicked your eyes up at him, humming against his thigh muscles. You were now so dangerously close to his underwear that he thought he would lose consciousness. “Were you daydreaming about it or something?” You teased.

Maybe in a different position, he would’ve lied about it. But the truth came out before he could hold it back. “Ever since Jimin told me that, yeah,” he said.

“Hmm… hope I live up to the expectation, then,” you purred, looking up at him with those doll-like eyes. Hoseok suddenly felt like he was losing his balance, his entire body burning in desire and expectancy. You looked like another one of his horny daydreams, but you were kneeling right there, in arms reach, and he didn’t know how he would deal with what was about to ensue.

Your mouth was hovering above his clothed cock before he could notice and, delicately, you leaned down to place a kiss on it. The touch was tender, almost numb with the fabric standing between you two, and yet Hoseok shivered, biting down on his lip as one of your hands enveloped his erection. He watched, mesmerized, as you started lazily stroking him through his underwear, leaning your head to the side so you could place heavy kisses on him, at times giving his tip a few kitten licks until it was covered by a thin layer of your saliva.

The sensation left him on edge, silently begging for more. By the time you moved back so you could undress him, Hoseok was a mess of shallow breaths and heavy swallows; his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as pleasure started to build up at the corners of his perception. Biting back a moan of relief, Hoseok raised his hips as you slowly pulled his underwear downward, allowing for his cock to spring free from its confinement. You had done a good job teasing him, because it was already fully hard when it bounced against his abdomen, red-tipped and leaking.

His gaze oscillated between your face and his cock, watching for any reaction as you took one hand to his length, squeezing him firmly. “Fuck,” he let out a grunt, his overwhelmed body responding to the smallest of touches.

You smirked at his reaction, taking a quick glimpse at his devastated features before moving back to what you were doing. Hoseok was so cute, you thought, liking the way he was so responsive.

A shudder ran up Hoseok’s body when your tongue came out between your lips, placing delicate licks on his base. He loved the feeling of your warm muscle against his hardened member, his mind growing eager as you began tracing a path upwards, flattening your tongue against him. His breathing was ragged by the time that you reached his crown, a hum escaping your throat as you lazily swirled your tongue around his tip, covering him with your saliva.

You took your time caressing his slit with your mouth, waiting until he was cursing and panting before you finally wrapped your lips around him. At first, you only took his tip in your mouth, sucking so slowly that Hoseok whined and buckled his hips from the bed, trying to make you move faster.

Wordlessly, you simply placed your palm against his thigh and pressed him back down. Even if that was the last thing he wanted to do, Hoseok accepted your order and settled back against the mattress, grunting as you continued to tease him.

“Please, put it all in,” he begged, starting to lose his trail of thought. “This is torture.”

And maybe another day you would have taken a bit more time torturing him, but, that afternoon, you were kind of in a rush to finish studying. So you complied.

“Oh, fuck, fuck.” His eyes shut and his head was thrown back as you fully sank down on his cock, your tongue flat against him. Before he could stop himself, his hand flew to your hair, yanking at the strands as you moved back up, your hand pumping the parts of him that you couldn’t reach.

“God, your mouth feels so great…” He moaned, back arching as you reached his tip once again, licking it before sinking back down — you took him just a bit deeper that time, and the motion didn’t pass by unnoticed. He was really starting to believe Jimin, and he wondered if maybe he should’ve been more worried about the entire rollercoaster situation. “Ah, that’s it. Just like that.”

You moaned around him, the vibrations making him cry out, desperate. Hoseok couldn’t hold himself back from moving closer to the edge of the bed, his other hand clenching your bedsheets between his fingers as you continued to swallow his cock like it belonged in the hot confinement of your mouth.

“Oh— oh my god, baby,” he grunted, pulling at the strands of your hair. His mind was starting to get hazy, his chest fluttering in a mess of sighs and heavy breaths every time that you sank down on his member; every time you flicked your tongue against his sentitive slit or pumped his base. “That’s really good, you take my cock so well.”

You looked up just to see the mess that Hoseok had turned into. With his mouth parted and eyes glazed over, he looked like he was about to fall apart at any second. He was watching you in complete awe, his eyebrows falling to form a beautiful frown of concentration; tongue coming out to lick his lips. He was so fucked out that you felt yourself getting riled up by his image, a pool of wetness accumulating between your thighs.

“You look so pretty like this.” He exhaled, unaware of his own words. Hoseok was too busy following your swollen, redden lips as they wrapped around his member, your cheeks hollowing after you sucked him with all that you had. Even the small amount of droll around your mouth was enough to make him throb in your hold, a grunt escaping him. “With these — fuck — those pretty lips around my cock, shit. I could watch you forever.”

You hummed around his member again at his words, the vibrations shooting directly at his core, where a rising heat had dangerously grown stronger, signaling his upcoming orgasm. Hoseok loved the way you actually looked like you were enjoying yourself, moaning and whimpering around his cock as you took all of him in your mouth, eyes closing every time he throbbed inside you. The eagerness in which you took him in, like you were starving for his cock, was one of the filthiest images that Hoseok had ever seen, and it was one that he knew would haunt his dreams for the years to come.

When you removed his cock from your mouth with a dirty wet sound, Hoseok was about to complain before he saw you licking down his length, one of your hands holding his cock away from your face as your tongue started to play with his balls. It was an odd feeling, but not an unwelcomed one, and it kept him on edge for a little while longer while you played with him.

With a timid whimper, you looked up at him as you licked your way back up to his tip. The image was so hot that he almost fainted, a deep moan escaping his throat when you took him back inside your delicious mouth.

And the truth was clearer than Hoseok had ever expected: Jimin was right.

“Fuck, babe, how did you get this good?” Hoseok grunted, trying his best to focus on the picture-perfect image of your lips wrapped tightly around his throbbing cock. He could tell that his release was starting to build up at an alarming rate, his thighs growing weaker every time you took him inside you. “Oh my- Ngh! Fuck! Oh my god!”

Hoseok’s mind was wiped clean when he felt his tip hitting the back of your throat, his hips buckling up as your throat clenched around him. He was pretty sure he was in heaven then — if he focused, he could hear angels singing all around him — , his pleasure overtaking every cell of his body as you continued sucking the soul out of him.

“Holy fuck, do that again,” he begged, his voice much higher than before. You didn’t need to be asked twice, because, within a second, he was crying out at the feeling of your throat wrapping around his cock one more time; his hands holding tightly to the roots of your hair. The only reason why Hoseok hadn’t started fucking your mouth yet was because he wanted to have you in control, giving him the best head of his life without any interruption. “Fuck, fuck— Baby, you’re so fucking good at this, fuck.”

There was a vague raising of his hips to meet your movements, making him hit the back of your throat again and again, the lewd sounds you were making filling the room. Nothing in his life had ever compared to that instant, he had ever felt a pleasure as great as he did at that point, and he knew it was about to snap.

“God, I’m gonna cum,” he sobbed, finally closing his eyes and letting the pleasure take over. “Fuck, you’re so good, I’m gonna—“

Hoseok filled your mouth with his cum, dripping down your throat when you swallowed around him. His head was spinning and his muscles were trembling, and that time he was unable to hold himself back from thrusting up against your mouth, trying to prolong that divine sensation for as long as he could before, at last, collapsing against the mattress with a final, shaky moan.

He barely heard you when you got up to your feet, his mind floating above his body as he tried to get himself back together. With the little force that he still had inside him, Hoseok leaned on his elbows and stared at you like you were made of gold. “Fuck, ____.” He breathed out, and the only thing he could say was, “What the fuck?”

You giggled at his reaction, thumb cleaning a bit of cum that had painted the corner of your mouth. “I appreciate your feedback,” you teased, pointing over your shoulder, to where your desk stood, forgotten. “Now that you have your answer, can I study in peace?”

“Y-Yeah, sure,” he struggled to say. “I’ll... stay quiet.”

You smiled brightly. “Thanks!”

He thought about thanking you right back for giving him the best orgasm of his life, but he thought that would make everything much more pathetic. So he didn’t.

Hoseok eventually found the motivation within him to put his cock back inside his underwear, clumsily pulling his pants back up. He found himself in the same position he was before everything went down: dumbfounded, staring at the back of your head as you worked on your textbook. The red numbers on the clock told him that just ten minutes had passed, and yet his life had completely changed.

All that he wanted was to return the favor — it was the fair exchange, after all. Hoseok sat up at the edge of the bed and spoke up, filled by a newfound courage. “Wait. Don’t you want me to take ca—”

“Shut the fuck up, Hoseok.”

His mouth fell shut and his courage deflated just as quickly. Maybe another time.

#hoseok #smut #hoseok smut #bts #bts fic #bts smut #bangtan boys #jung hoseok #pwp #drabble #smut drabble #x you #x reader #reader insert #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #college au

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lyallblacklupin · 3 years

Text

My other half.

Sirius is very upset because his other half, James Potter, has been taken away from him. The James who used to hold Sirius after a nightmare has Lily Evans in his arms one particular night, which angers Sirius a lot. He thinks that he has lost his friend. Little does he know, there is a certain perfect Marauder who understands him more than he understands himself.

“And then what I got to see was Evans! You just don’t care about your best friend anymore because of her!”

“Sirius, I can’t take care of you all the time! And I want you to be supportive here, be my best frien—“

“Whoa, whoa, what do you mean by ‘I can’t take care of you all the time’?” Sirius almost yelled at James, his chest heaving violently. James sighed and rubbed his temples.

“Pads, how many times I have to tell that Lily is now my girlfriend—“

“And what about me!?” Sirius knew that this was an unhealthy act of friendship and that was: Possessiveness. But he wanted to get this unsettling agitation off his chest that had been clinging him since the last night he had found Lily Evans buried in James’ embrace. Sirius had never felt so furious, and betrayed in his life. He wanted to lash out on his best friend, who was just like a brother to him. A non-biological brother who’d always been there for Sirius when his blood family sent him a shitty letters, and reassured him that he was not alone because the Potters were his family now, the same brother who’d been there to hold him when he had nightmares so he’d tuck him in his embrace and he could sleep a dreamless slumber till dawn, and then he’d go to his own bed. However, last night had been an exception, because the two brothers had an intervention after almost six years of inseparability, in the name of Lily Evans who had just started coming and going in their dorm, and Sirius felt like his privacy was assaulted.

“Sirius, don’t make this hard, please…” James flopped down on his bed, holding his head in his hands. Sirius hated that look because it reflected the exhaustion he was feeling, and it felt like a verification for Sirius that James was done taking care of him. Sirius knew that James had been taking extra care of him since they were eleven that even Remus and Peter had been annoyed and hated him for favoring Sirius more than he needed. Sirius didn’t want to feel like a child when he was a hopeless sixteen who didn’t have a girlfriend or anyone of his roommates to take constant of care of him. He knew that he was unfair with James. He knew that how much James wanted to date Lily Evans, and he also knew that he was being a pathetic friend and a mean brother to him for ruining his happiness by fighting him.

“Sirius?” James asked softly when Sirius was gazing hard on the floor, his mind in the trance of endless thoughts, and they just spiked up the guilt inside him.

But there was just this unnamed emotion of bitterness sitting at the top of his chest that denied him from acknowledging all of those facts about James Potter.

“It was the first nightmare I had without having you with me.” He blurted out, not looking at James at all. He believed that there was no one in the dorm except the two of them because if there were, he’d have been hearing gagging or huffing noises from the rest of the two marauders.

“Pads, I know. But what do you want me to do?” James’ voice sounded helpless.

“Nothing…absolutely nothing.” And with that, Sirius turned around to walk out of the dorm. He was reaching for the doorknob when his eyes side-caught Remus Lupin sitting on his bed, who had witnessed the entire conversation between them. Sirius thought his heart had stopped beating for a second. He fought back the embarrassment and scurried out of the room in a flash, hoping Remus hadn’t seen his flushed face.

Sirius spent his whole day with the rest of the Marauders, because James and Lily had gone to lake, hand in hand, together. He knew that James was giving him space. Peter was serving detention, so technically, Sirius got to hang out with the only Marauder and that was Remus Lupin.

Both of them were sitting under the tree. It had been an hour since they had been relishing the double free periods, and none of them had spoken a single word. Remus had a reason to stay quiet because he was reading a book of poetry, while Sirius was playing with the thorns of the grass, plucking and brushing them. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a reason to stay silent but because it was a ridiculous one that his best friend had finally gone out with the girl of his dreams, and he is being an absolute prat about it. Yeah, great one, Sirius! He internally mocks himself.

“Padfoot?”

Sirius praised himself that he didn’t yelp because he had almost believed that he was alone until Remus called him out.

“Moony?”

“You okay?” Remus’ amber eyes bored into him. Sirius had to look away for a bit. Remus Lupin was another story in his already chaotic life. In short, he was a mystery, even after he had revealed himself as a werewolf, who had a dying mother, and was miserably poor. Yet still, he was like a treasure residing in the depths of an island, and it never failed to tempt Sirius.

“Yeah, why?” He cleared his throat, but Remus was still gazing him.

“You are sulking.” Sirius could feel the smirk on his face without having to look.

“No, I am not.”

“I can tell.” He sighed, and Sirius thought he was done asking, and must have gone back to his book but he continued, “Your head is dangling low, your eyes are blinking a little too much, and your hands…well they don’t take a break from causing a wreckage like you are doing right now…”

Sirius looked down and saw that a palm-sized patch was created on the ground because of the plucking of grass. He looked back at Remus whose eyes were smiling more than his mouth.

“Congratulations, you just won the house cup for studying Sirius Black’ sulking postures.” Sirius said with a deadpanned face, and Remus laughed amusingly, putting away his book. It was a precious thing he did, because Remus rarely put his book away for anyone. Maybe Sirius was not just anyone for him.

They spent the afternoon talking and laughing, and Sirius felt warm and blissful to realize how much he enjoyed Remus’ company. He really underestimated him, and it made him feel all blue. He was gone back to sulking when James and Lily arrived for the dinner, while Remus was gone back to sit with Peter as usual.

The midnight was emerged upon Sirius as he had woken up from another nightmare. His vision was blurry, and he sat up on his bed. He was shivering and the covers were not helping him because he could feel the perspiration on his back and arms. James was sleeping alone because his curtains were not drawn shut, and Sirius was craving the human warmth but he wasn’t feeling right to go to him after their argument. He gathered his knees and pulled them close to his chest. He felt like crying because now he was recognizing that agonizing emotion inside him, and that was: Loneliness.

The reason he never had a proper relationship with a girl was because he never wanted to have a girl in his life. He had thought that his roommates were his only family, and they were the only ones he wanted to be with for the rest of his life. He loved them so much. He let his tears fall, and slipped into his cover again anyway, curled up in a ball. He knew that sleep was nowhere near him.

Just when he thought he could change into Padfoot, he heard the rustling sound of curtains. He felt alerted and, in all honesty, scared. He knew that his mind was deceiving him. They were just the aftershocks of the nightmares, but then he felt footsteps approaching. He squeezed his night shut. And then—

“Sirius?” It was not James.

“Moony?” Sirius turned around to find Remus standing in his pajamas. His hair were sticking out in every directions.

“Can I sleep with you?” His voice was hoarse, and he looked uncomfortable.

“Of course, you can. Hey, you okay?” Sirius scooted to make some space for him.

“Nightmares.” He replied, and it instantly broke Sirius’ heart.

They both laid together with a respectful distance, facing each other. Sirius could hear Remus’ teeth chattering. The half-moon’s light was landing on Remus, and Sirius could see his knuckles turning white as he fisted the blanket close to his chest. His eyes were screwed shut. Sirius was able feel every move of his body. He placed a hand on Remus’ cheek, and those amber eyes snapped open. Sirius decided that it was definitely the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Remus smiled weakly at him. He was reaching to hold Sirius’ wrist of that same hand before Sirius grabbed his shoulders, and shoved him in his embrace.

He thought Remus would protest. Instead, he melted. He buried his face in the crook of his neck, wrapping his own hands around Sirius’ waist, pulling him impossibly closer, while Sirius did the same by enveloping his torso by his own arms.

“I’m here for you, Pads.” Remus whispered in his skin, and it made Sirius smile.

“I’m here for you, too, Moony.”

Both of them fitted perfectly into each other’s bodies. After when they were relaxed in their positions, Sirius looked down to see the Remus sound asleep, a contenting smile tugging his lips, and suddenly that emotion of loneliness inside Sirius dissipated like it never existed.

#wolfstar #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #Wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstarendgame #remus x sirius #Sirius x Remus #SIRIUSxREMUS #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #James Potter #Lily Evans #james and sirius #hogwarts #hp marauders #Harry Potter #peter pettigrew #hurt/comfort #nightmares #wolfstar supremacy

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pillage-and-lute · 4 years

Text

An Ever Fixed Mark (part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (here) Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,

Read it on Ao3 HERE

A little bit of BAMF! Jaskier, a lot of emotionally constipated/self flagellating Geralt, some miscommunication, and a secret.

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Geralt awoke slowly. The anxiety and excitement of the wedding had taken its toll, and the comfortable bed had enveloped him nicely. There was also the warm, comfortable weight in his arms.

Jaskier.

It was Jaskier in his arms. The young man was curled up, still fast asleep, with his head tucked against Geralt’s chest. Geralt wondered who had gravitated to whom in the night. Had he vvmoved unconsciously hold Jaskier? Perhaps. Jaskier must have cuddled up to him too, though. There was no other way to explain the way Jaskier’s hand was curled, lightly, around Geralt’s medallion. Holding on to Geralt. On his other hand, the wedding ring glittered.

Used to assessing battle situations, this train of thought happened in thirty seconds or less. His processing was significantly sleep slowed, however, because he finally became aware of what had woken him.

There was a pounding on the door. The urgent pounding of someone who desperately wanted to speak with the occupants but didn’t want to make others aware.

Without other options Geralt gently extricated himself from Jaskier, accidentally waking the young man in the process, pulled on the pants from the day before, and crossed to the door.

It was Eskel.

“What?”

“It’s almost ten in the morning,” Eskel said. “Vesemir wants us to leave really soon. Um, check if Jaskier has people he wants to say goodbye to.”

“Our things,” Geralt began.

Eskel waved a dismissive hand. “Vesemir had them packed up last night, but he really wants us to leave and he won’t tell us why.”

Geralt shrugged, reassured his brother, and closed the door.

Jaskier was sitting up in bed, his undershirt, a large, flowy thing, had slipped off one shoulder. Geralt’s stomach lurched, rolled, and finally curled up. Somehow it wasn’t in an unpleasant way, though. The skin was pale gold in the torchlight. It brought thoughts of sinking his teeth into all that glowing skin, gripping as he folded his body over Jaskier’s and...

Geralt dunked his head in the washbasin.

“Is that an okay temperature,” Jaskier said, slipping on his wedding attire from the day before. “I think it was warmed up for us last night but it’s probably pretty cold by now.”

It was doing exactly what Geralt needed it to, so he just grunted.

“I don’t have anyone I need to say goodbye to,” Jaskier said as Geralt wiped water from his eyes. “We can leave whenever.”Geralt nodded and pulled on his wedding doublet. Jaskier, all in white and pearls still looked like some sort of angel. He took Jaskier’s hand, and they left.

It was Jaskier’s guidance, of course, that brought them back to the rooms that had been for the witchers, and Vesemir was outside the door already.

“Was worried you two would linger,” he griped, but it was good-natured.

“Yeah honeymooners, how’s married life feel?,” Lambert smirked. He had packs over his shoulder, so did Eskel, and Vesemir. Eskel offered Geralt his pack and swords. Geralt shouldered them and took a much nicer pack from Lambert, obviously Jaskier’s. Vesemir picked up a lute from where it had been leant against the wall and Jaskier took it gratefully, a hint of a smile touching his round cheeks.

Then the odd little party left.

After all the anxiety and waiting and intrigue and the wedding itself, just walking down to the stables as an little group felt strange. No one stopped them, though.

The witcher’s horses had been cared for, but were otherwise untouched. There was a fifth, a black and white stallion, big but not a battlehorse by any means. Jaskier reached forward and kissed it’s muzzle. The horse responded by huffing in the way horses do and tossing his mane.

They mounted up and were off before the bell in the town center tolled eleven. It just didn’t feel real.

“We’ll ride with you to Egerbak,” Vesemir said, naming a town a day’s ride from Chateau Lettenhove. “From there we’ll go our separate ways, not good for witchers to be all in one group.”

“Why?” Jaskier said, looking puzzled. “Wouldn’t it make fighting monsters easier?”

“Sometimes,” Eskel said, “But if the terrain is rough you can get in one another’s way.”

“Get paid less too, the locals think it’s easy and give up less coin,” Lambert said, a little sourly.

“Most jobs need just one witcher,” Geralt said, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “And villagers get edgy if there’s more than that, they fear an attack.” He didn’t mention why. Surely Jaskier knew the reason he was called Butcher. “But there isn’t many of us left, either. We four are all of the wolf school. If there were people who wished us harm, having us all in one place could exterminate our school.”

“That’s horrible,” Jaskier said, blue eyes wide. The color was muted today, Geralt noticed. The sky was overcast and his eyes seemed to reflect the blue-grey light that filtered down.

“Do you think we’re in danger now?” the young man said.

“Depends, do you think your father would send people after you? To kill you I mean.” Vesemir didn’t even raise the question gently.

Jaskier sat, moving steadily astrid his horse, looking straight ahead. After a long moment with just the sound of five sets of hooves he said quietly, “I think maybe we should move a little faster.” He nudged his horse into a canter and fingered his lute strap nervously.

Without further instruction, the witchers formed up. Eskel, keen with magic and with the same good senses of any witcher, rode in front. Lambert, with his predilection for blowing things up from a distance, rode behind. Geralt and Vesemir rode along in the middle, Jaskier between them. He was probably the safest man for a hundred miles.

“You really think he might try something?” Geralt asked quietly. He knew speaking softly wasn’t the same as being tactful, but it was about the best he had.

Jaskier nodded. “It makes sense. If his goal is to start war with the witchers. To say you mistreated me and voided the contract, that’s one thing. But it makes a better story to feed to people if his beloved son is killed the day after the wedding.”

“I just don’t get it,” Geralt said, frustratedly. “Why does he want a war with witchers? I understand he doesn’t want you to be his successor, but he could just disown you, couldn’t he?”

“I was thinking about that,” said Jaskier. “It would look bad if he did, but he could. I think he wants a war with witchers because he wants a war with other countries. Any place that didn’t immediately turn against witchers-- all witchers, not just your school--well, he could declare them an enemy of Lettenhove, which is a big province. That makes it an enemy of Kerack and then Kerack goes to war with anywhere that decides they need someone to fight their monster problem.”

“That’s...” Geralt said.

“Despicable?”

“Well, yes, but I mean, it’s a lot to comprehend,” Geralt said. He felt a little at sea. This wasn’t his job, all this, this politics. He was a witcher. Find monster, swing sword, kill monster, get coin. That was what he did. Alliances and assasination and wars and marriage, they weren’t supposed to factor in.

“Yeah.” Jaskier said.

They rode on, safe inside the wolf school’s formation. After perhaps a quarter of an hour Jaskier slung his lute around and began to pick at it idly. It had a case, but he’d tied that onto his big stallion instead. Apparently he liked having it available.

“Why does he want a war?” Geralt asked after a little longer. “What does your father get out of it?”

Jaskier stopped plucking. “It’s part of the earl thing, in his case the position has a lot to do with finances and the kingdom’s treasury. Wars mean finances are more important, which makes him more important, and he get’s more power.”

“All of this is just a power grab?” Geralt said. “That’s daft.”

“That’s politics,” Jaskier said, a tad tiredly. “He probably thinks he could be made a duke. And yes, daft is a good word for it all.”

After that they just rode, stopping only briefly for lunch and to rest the horses. Jaskier played his lute quietly, most of the journey. At one point he pulled a notebook and charcoal stick from his bag to jot things down and muttered as he played.

Geralt had no idea if the lad’s music was impressive, but he was impressed with how he sat a horse, multitasking as if he was part centaur. He did most emphatically not think about how nice Jaskier’s thighs looked in the clothes he’d changed into at their lunch stop.

The wedding attire was very fine, but Jaskier looked somehow...right in the clothes he wore now. Blue trousers of fine but durable material and a white chemise under a blue doublet. He’d asked if he should wear the basilisk leather, but Geralt had shook his head. It was a fine spring day and basilisk leather kept heat like a fur coat, he didn’t want to cook his husband before they’d been married a whole day.

And wasn’t that a thought that clanked about in Geralt’s head. Husband. Husband husband husband husband husband. They were married and Geralt had a husband. Who was nobility. And Geralt was his husband.

And Geralt kind of wanted to kiss his husband.

That was his problem, however, not Jaskier’s. Whatever the damn ‘implied hidden fidelity clause’ said, Jaskier was free to sleep with whomever he chose. Why would any young man, in the position to choose, pick a scarred witcher, the Butcher of Blaviken? Who could choose Geralt?

Geralt suddenly felt very bitter, for himself and on Jaskier’s behalf. Neither of them had asked for this, and the witchers weren’t even going to get anything from it. Now he had a husband, a semi-disgraced noble, who apparently had musical talents. Bardic? Geralt didn’t know but it seemed...right.

Regardless, he needed a place to drop Jaskier off. Somewhere safe. It couldn’t be claimed he mistreated the man if they weren’t together. That way, Jaskier couldn’t...

Couldn’t what?

Geralt had never before actually contemplated all the ways a normal human could be hurt on the Path. Witchers, sure, he knew about that but humans were delicate. Geralt had been told once that you shouldn’t just eat rabbit because it...it did something and you would get sick. Or maybe starve? Because the meat was wrong somehow. Too lean? Not lean enough?

It didn’t matter because he wasn’t a human. He remembered a dreadful three weeks when coin had been lean eating just rabbit and he’d been fine. Jaskier might not be. Geralt hardly earned enough coin for himself how was he supposed to feed and protect them both.

Not to mention things like sleeping rough and rainstorms and all the little pitfalls of traveling.

It had seemed fine in theory before. Jaskier would have his basilisk leather and would stay at camp but now reality was setting in.

Tired from the road, the whole group spoke little as they set up camp. Geralt pitched the tent that he would share with Jaskier then set up the fire while his brothers put up their own tents and Vesemirs. Vesemir went hunting.

Geralt was almost eighty five years old, and had been hunting for most of those years, but not one of the younger wolves could match Vesemir’s skill.

Dinner was stew, with meat courtesy of Vesemir. Dessert was no talking at all. This wasn’t unusual at all for the wolves, but Jaskier was looking around nervously.

“You’re safe,” Geralt said. “It’s fine.”

“Okay,” Jaskier said. It seemed odd, because he’d been so vibrant and chatty back at Chateau Lettenhove.

“Pass me your dish,” Geralt said. Wordlessly, Jaskier handed him the shallow bowl. Geralt scraped it onto the grass.

“I’m sorry about the whole...assassin thing and, and everything,” Jaskier said after another silent minute.

“Hmm,” Geralt said.

The overast sky finally gave way to the rain that had been threatening all day and with a sigh the witchers each turned in for the night. Jaskier crawled into the tent after Geralt and settled down onto one of the bedrolls.

Geralt went about his nightly routine as if nothing was different, untying his hair and stripping himself his clothes. He felt oddly flattered when Jaskier let out a tiny gasp as he divested himself of his smallclothes. A glance showed him the young man, wide eyed in the dim light, kneeling on his bedroll.

The tent smelled of lust.

Geralt pulled on the well-worn loose trousers he preferred and nudged Jaskier’s pack at him. The boy took the hint and rummaged in it, pulling out similarly loose sleep pants and changing quickly. Geralt looked away for decency’s sake. They may be married but that was no reason to take liberties. Unfortunately, Jaskier was wearing another loose chemise to bed, and Geralt’s thoughts dragged back to the tantalizing view of shoulder from that morning.

“Wrap up tight,” he grunted, annoyed at himself for even thinking of that. “If the temperature drops in the night I don’t want to have to deal with you getting sick.”

The lust smell, which had waned somewhat, was entirely gone, replaced with a scent Geralt had smelled on Jaskier before.

“Okay,” Jaskier said quietly, and tucked himself obediently into his bedroll.

Jaskier smelled sad. Like he had the night before.

Geralt rolled into his own bedroll and cursed himself. Of course the boy was sad. Dragged onto the Path with a husband more monster than man. Boyish hormones made him horny, not any desire for something like Geralt. And he was a boy. Nineteen was legally an adult but it was like...what was the phrase Vesemir had used? De jure is not de facto. Legallity is not truth.

Geralt listened to Jaskier’s breathing and thought about their ages. Eighty years for a witcher was still considered a mere stripling youth when considered in the course of a witcher lifespan. For Jaskier, though, he would live to be eighty only if he was lucky. On a witcher’s Path he almost certainly wouldn’t be.

Jaskier’s breathing hadn’t slowed into the deep, even pattern of sleep. Geralt wondered what was keeping him awake. Then again, if he was sleeping beside a monster, he’s lie awake too.

It seemed as though neither of them would ever sleep, both of them laying, inches between them, on their separate bedrolls. Then, between one blink and the next, Geralt must have slipped into sleep.

He awoke to a damp world. It had rained through the night and the rain was still drizzling against the tent when he opened his eyes. The humidity and the little moisture that seeped through the cloth of the tent had built up and everything felt sticky and muggy.

Although every item of clothing in his pack had been put in dry, almost nothing felt entirely dry as he struggled into proper clothes. Jaskier woke too, blinking his eyes open muzzily and wrinkling his nose at the damp feeling. He also dressed in silence, frowning as he pulled on his clothes.

There was no dry firewood for a fire and Eskel, gifted though he was with magic, couldn’t make a fire last on soaked wood. The group ate cold rations. Jaskier tried to start up a conversation with Eskel about literature.

Geralt smiled inwardly, but let none of it show on his face, lest Jaskier think he was mocking him. Eskel, despite the best efforts of everything the wolf school could do, was so far from being a morning person as to be out the other side. He could stay up all night, but wasn’t conversational until nearly noon.

Jaskier looked disheartened, though. Geralt wasn’t a substitute for literary conversation, so he just packed up Jaskier’s horse for him. For some reason, Jaskier frowned at that, but then nodded at Geralt and they all mounted up.

It was an hour’s ride to Egerbak, where the witchers would part. From there, Geralt thought, mapping the journey in his head, he and Jaskier could turn for Oxenfurt. The journey would be almost a month, and Geralt would have to hunt along the way to earn coin, but Jaskier would be safe there.

While Geralt was musing, Jaskier was trying to strike up a conversation with Vesemir. The old wolf was more of a morning person than Eskel, but not a conversationalist, so Jaskier eventually shrugged a little sadly and pulled out his lute.

He plucked a tune, editing it again and again until he seemed satisfied. It was catchy, an earworm Geralt was sure would never leave his head. Then Jaskier began to hum.

Geralt himself was very nearly tone deaf, and frankly didn’t like music in most cases, but Jaskier’s voice sounded okay. It was only humming, anyway.

Geralt’s ears pricked and he saw the shoulders of Eskel, riding point, tense up too. He knew all the witchers had heard the noise. Hoofbeats were approaching fast. Geralt craned in his saddle to see the rider, but could make out little between the rain, which had graduated from drizzle to downpour.

Vesemir coughed, flexing his hand on the reigns, opening his fist then closing it again. The witchers drew together, closing their formation. To the rider it would likely look as if they merely were drawing towards one another to give him room. It worked to do that, for sure, but it was also a defensive maneuver, trained into them and beaten into their memory. Witchers rarely fought alongside eachother, but when they had to they were prepared. Closing ranks also had the benefit of enclosing Jaskier, like a hand wrapping around a precious stone.

Geralt’s steel sword had been tied at his hip, and his silver along with the saddlebags. It made him look less threatening, more like a knight errant than someone ready to battle at any time. In truth, the change from being slung at his shoulders was practical. In combat he could draw the sword from his hip and be prepared, rather than having to reach up to draw his weapons. It left him less exposed on horseback. He reached down to his hip and, in a smooth and almost impercepitble motion, flicked the tie open on the sheath of his sword, loosening its hold to make the sword easier to draw. He turned the movement into a casual stroke of Roach’s flank.

The rider pulled up alongside. “Sir witcher,” he panted, “I must speak with Master Julian.”

Geralt glanced at Jaskier but the boy looked...different. He was sitting his horse more stiffly and looked more haughty and aristocratic than Geralt had ever seen him. Nothing of his clothing had changed, and he was in poor garb compared to the silken doublets he had worn before, but in a second his posture had turned him into the spitting image of his father.

“Speak, man,” Jaskier said, waving one hand dismissively.

“You left without your dowry.”

“Dowry,” Jaskier said coldly.

Geralt felt cold for a different reason. He’d seen a ring on the hand of the rider, the left hand’s index finger. It was large, with a heavy stone. He was a slim young man in the dress of a footman, but something in his build said otherwise. This was an assasin, Geralt would bet his medallion, and the ring held poison, or something equally nasty.

“I have no need of a dowry,” Jaskier was saying, passing straight through haughty and going for enigmatic without bother to slow down.

“Your father insisted,” said the assassin, sidling his horse closer. Geralt nudged Roach and she deftly stepped in the way.

“My father can take back his coin,” Jaskier said, even as the man offered a bag, slightly open to show gold coins. “I am no maiden, and my marriage shall produce no heirs.”

“But--”

“Don’t speak over your betters,” Jaskier said, every words ringing like steel. “A dowry is to set up a household. Well my household, such as it is,” here Jaskier gestured about him. “Is set up. Traditionally, if the wife dies without producing a male heir to the marriage the dowry is returned. I shall produce no heirs, so I’m returning the dowry preemptively.”

The assasin looked truly stumped. “I must give this to you,” he said, reaching forward, across Roach’s rump to hand the bag to Jaskier. Geralt saw the man’s thumb hover over the poison ring, as if about to flick open the compartment.

“No,” Jaskier said.

“At least dismount so that we can discuss this,” pleaded the rider.

Geralt looked about them. They’d been riding through woodland all day, but it was dense here, just the place one might lie in wait. Then he saw it, the thing he’d been waiting for since they’d left Lettenhove. A glint of light off of metal in the underbrush. Vesemir caught his eye, he’d seen it too.

“Melitele help us!” Jaskier cried. “There’s bandits in the woods!”

Geralt saw anger and annoyance flash onto the face of the assassin. “No bandits in these woods my lord, I’m sure,” he said smoothly.”

Geralt knew the plan in that instant. Jaskier would be found dead on the roadside, the rider would stagger back into Lettenhove, or perhaps onward into Egerbak and tell how the witchers had cruelly murdered Jaskier and made off with the dowry, leaving him for dead. These hiddent troops were presumably to subdue the witchers while Jaskier was murdered.

Finally, Geralt drew his sword.

Damn. If they killed the Earl’s men that would also look bad.

Jaskier, switching from enigmatic to foppishly distressed. “You simply must turn back,” he was saying to the assassin. “It’s quite alright, I have all these big, strong witchers to protect me, and before I left lettenhove I sent a xenovox message to a mage in Temeria, a friend of mine. I have a powerful protection on me.”

“You do,” the assassin said, edging his horse back a step. Protection spells tended to get messy in a guts and gore way for those who crossed them.

“Oh yes, and my darling husband, isn’t that right, dear heart?” Jaskier said, giving Geralt doe eyes. Geralt blinked.

“Uh, yes, Triss Merigold,” Geralt said, thanking his lucky stars, which most of the time had utterly failed to be lucky for him, that he actually knew a mage in Temeria.

“Merigold,” the would-be assassin said. “The name rings a bell, I’ll just,” and he rode off, back towards Lettenhove.

Jaskier spurred his horse. “Let’s get out of this rabbit snare,” he muttered. The witchers rode double-time to clearer ground.

“Well,” Vesemir said, once they were well and truly clear. “Quick thinking, lad, and some of the most pretentious acting I’ve ever seen.”

Jaskier bowed in his saddle, smiling like a moonbeam. “Thank you, although I’m just glad Geralt had a real name to back me up.”

“Should do,” Lambert snorted as they rode past the first few buildings of Egenbak. “She practically sewed his guts back into his body after a Striga--”

“Shut up,” Geralt growled, but it was too late. Even in the rain, Jaskier’s eyes were sparkling.

Greed, Geralt reflected, and indeed, lust, came in many varieties. Jaskier’s father may covet money and power, but the mere mention of a story had Jaskier coveting it just as viciously. What could be so boring, so lacking in a wealthy young man’s life, Geralt wondered, that he was so starved for adventure?

They bid their goodbyes to the other witchers, Jaskier surprising them each with a hug. Vesemir huffed, but Geralt caught the slight upward twitch of his moustache.

“Fair roads,” Jaskier said, waving to them all. Geralt waved too, and then his brother’s and Vesemir rode away.

So did Jaskier and Geralt, but it hadn’t been three minutes when Jaskier asked, “Striga?”

“Mmmhm.”

“What is a striga?” Jaskier pressed.

“Monster.”

Jaskier huffed. “What sort,” he said, with a bit of a whine. “How is one born...made? What does it look like? What does it do? Why have I never heard of one before?”

“Made by magic. Looks ugly. Does messy awful killings. They’re rare.”

“Please, Geralt, tell me the story?”

Geralt didn’t look over at him. Wasn’t going to. If he caught a glimpse of that face and those eyes pleading he’d give in.

“The rode is going to be awfully boring, Geralt, a story would really help,” Jaskier said, still begging.

“Just focus on riding,”Geralt growled. “I don’t want to have to deal with you if you fall off your horse.” Then he urged Roach on ahead.

It was indeed a very long and boring ride. After a while Jaskier pulled out his lute and began to play.

“Toss a coin,” he sang quietly, then he changed the cord and tried it again, a little higher. “Toss a coin to your witcher.”

“Don’t make up songs about me,” Geralt growled.

“Short of you telling me stories I have to make things up,” Jaskier said. “I know nothing about you.”

“So you write me a song?”

“I think you deserve one,” Jaskier said, as if his very believing it made it fact.

Geralt urged his horse on ahead.

“Come on,” Jaskier said, nudging his horse faster too. “My singing can’t be that bad, can it?” he asket.d lightly.

“Yes,” Geralt growled. “It can.”

They rode the rest of the day without speaking. Jaskier plucked sullenly at his lute.

Geralt was angry, and worse, he didn’t really have any right to be angry. He knew he’d messed up. Day two of marriage and he’d fucked up spectacularly. He was bad at this, and he was angry at himself. Somehow, though, he felt angry at Jaskier too. What was Geralt supposed to do? Answer every childish question? Tell stories? Discuss literature like Eskel could? Like probably all of Jaskier’s high class friends at Oxenfurt and Lettenhove could?

He was a witcher. Witcher meant solitary. It meant silence. It did not mean infernal music and being pestered about a story like a nanny.

He was being an asshole and he knew it, but damnit, he’d been an asshole so long he wasn’t about to stop all at once. It was practically baked in at this point. Being angry was better than trying to be kind an failing. Silence was easier than speaking.

Jaskier drooped in his saddle though, and Geralt felt like a cad.

They stopped for lunch at the side of the road, eating soggy rations and not talking to one another. They were both soaked to the skin, despite heavy cloaks, which were too hot in this late spring storm. Jaskier dripped miserably and carefully wiped down his lute, putting it reverentially in its case.. Up until that point the instrument had been mostly safe from rain, cradled against his body under the cloak. He’d clearly come to the same conclusion that Geralt had, however, that if the instrument stayed out any longer, cloak cover or no, it would get truly wet.

“Raining cats and dogs,” Jaskier said, tentatively. It had the same feeling as a man dipping his toe into water to see how cold it was.

“Hmmm.” Geralt said, neutrally.

Apparently seeing this not outright aggression as an invitation, Jaskier, metaphorically, jumped into the pond.

“See, I think that saying is really rather silly,” he said. “Not only because it, obviously, doesn’t rain animals, but really, cats don’t even like water.”

He continued chattering as they remounted and rode on.

“Dogs do like water of course, well, some, but so few like rainstorms, especially thunder. I wonder why we have that saying then.”

His mind seemed to skip back and forth between subjects like a grasshopper.

“I understand why dogs don’t like thunder, of course, and I don’t care for lightning much myself, but the thunder must be so loud with their sensitive hearing.”

He paused for a split second and Geralt wondered if blissful silence would return but then,

“I imagine thunder must be dreadful with your hearing, right?”

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. Shut up, he thought.

“Oh that’s awful,” Jaskier said. “Do you think it will thunder tonight? I hope not. If it does - or perhaps even if it doesn’t - I think we ought to get a room in an inn tonight. Give our clothes a chance to dry.”

Melitele’s tits. Geralt couldn’t believe one man could talk so much. It was almost like nervous chatter but it grated on his already fraying nerves.

“An inn would be perfect don’t you think? And I could play there. I’m a bard you know. Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘you’re a Viscount, Jaskier,’ and that’s true, although I suppose not anymore, technically from the moment I said ‘I do’ that honor was passed to my half-brother but, I’m a bard as well.”

“Shut up.”

“What?” Jaskier said.

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling as he did so cold water drip from his hood onto his face. “For the love of all that is good just shut up,” he growled.

“Maybe if you said something back occasionally it wouldn’t be so one sided,” Jaskier said sniffily.

“Maybe if you had any brains in that empty head of yours you’d have something worth while to talk about.”

“I have brains,” Jaskier said, affronted.

“Clearly not enough to know when to shut up,” Geralt sniped back. “I don’t want to have to deal with your incessant chatter all the way to Oxenfurt.”

Jaskier stopped his horse and dismounted, in the middle of the road, in the pouring rain.

“Get back on your horse, have you lost your mind?” Geralt said, but he reigned Roach in.

“Oxenfurt?” Jaskier said, quietly. His voice held no emotion and Geralt felt suddenly that he had really fucked up this time. He dismounted.

“Yes,” he said. “You have friends there, I thought it would be a nice place to go.” He wasn’t sure why he didn’t tell Jaskier that he intended to leave him there, but he felt that, at this time, that wouldn’t go over well.

Jaskier’s face softened. “You thought it would be nice,” he said. “For me to go back there.”

Geralt shrugged. “One destination is as good as the other on my Path, often I just wander.”

Jaskier smiled softly and remounted. “Okay then,” he said. “To Oxenfurt.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry, I suppose dismounting was dramatic, I guess I thought you were taking me somewhere to get rid of me.”

It was like having ice shoved into Geralt’s spine as he mounted Roach again. “I wouldn’t get rid of you,” he said lowly.

“Oh, not ‘get rid of’, like that stupid assassin. I meant...discard, abandon, leave, wash one’s hands of, cast aside.”

They rode on, Jaskier chattered, but less. Geralt didn’t say a single word.

They didn’t make it to a town with an inn that night so they made camp in a soaked clearing again. Guilt ate Geralt as he was eating cold rations and chased him into their tent. He lie awake feeling heavy with it as he heard Jaskier’s breathing drop off.

Jaskier wouldn’t like being left at Oxenfurt, but it would be for his own good, Geralt thought. He didn’t have to tell him right now, anyway. That was a discussion that could wait until Oxenfurt.

Geralt’s guilt didn’t lift completely, but it eased enough that he slipped into meditation.

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I’m still pretty sick with mono, so this took me ages to manage, but its here at last! So psyched to write the next part too.

Tag List!

@llamasdumpsterfire @stinastar @aziz-the-fangirl @mordoriscalling @bastardofmothman @negativenuggetz @morte-mistrata @ailorian @hayleynzlive @filledepluie @bygodstillam @sociowithatardisachevyandawand @faery-god @honeysuckletook @theflurtifly @saibowtie @werevampiwolf @frywen-babbles @the-kewlest @innocentbi-stander @1stbonesfan @aqueenrisesintheeast @toothhurtyam @marauders-fan-account @ineffable-lasagna @limevodka @rocknrollphanda @seralyra @permanently-exhausted-witcher @aj-itated @watchthewolvesfall @00qtee @the-blondey @birds-of-forgiveness @west-moor @abstractartwithoutpaint @darkonesdagger7437 @onwardsandfourwords @underwaterattribute @whenrainbowsend @goldbvtton @little-piece-of-tamlin @in-love-with-writing002 @flustratedcas @fontegagrilledcheese @so--many-fandoms @kirk-spock-in-the-impala @oniongrass @flowercrown-bard @maya-the-yellow-bee @thecomfortofoldstorries @wellthisstinks @thenameislion-dandelion @flowercrown-bard @obsessedchildsworld @debellatis @zotinha456 @tumbleweedtech @goblin-loves-shiny-things @birdsflyhome @holymotherwolf @the-shenny-of-azkaban @darkangel91939 @enkelikauneus @saphiramalbec @silvermirror1997

#geraskier #the witcher #arranged marriage au #miscommunication #angst #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #Vesemir #jaskier #eskel #lambert

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fruitcoops · 4 years

Note

hey! idk if you've seen that cut video about how couples sleep together but i just cant stop thinking about the team doing it. It would be SO cute with your amazing writing :))

Thank you! I absolutely adore this video and I’ve watched it probably twenty times--each couple is just so cute! Quick disclaimer: while this may seem a little odd, since the Lions are basically celebrities, I think the channel wanted to do it to show the diversity of the team and emphasize love above everything else. Hope you enjoy!

“Hey, Lions!” Marlene says cheerfully, waving to the camera. She stands alone in the studio for once. “We have something a little different for you today. Four of the couples on the team agreed to let us record them sleeping for a night, which we’ve combined with short interviews from each of them. Hope you enjoy!”

The video cuts and a title card appears, reading Couple Number One: James and Lily Potter.

Their bedroom is moderately sized, with a crib at the foot of the bed and a fluffy red comforter that accents their walls. James is partially visible as he brushes his teeth, but Lily is fully in frame in her oversized t-shirt and flannel pajama pants while she climbs into bed with Harry in her arms.

“How long have you been together?” Marlene asks in a voiceover.

“We’ve been married for just over six months,” James’ voice says; on the screen, he walks out of the bathroom and tucks his legs up to kiss the tops of Lily and Harry’s heads. “But we dated for several years before that.”

“What time do you normally go to bed?”

“Maybe eight? Eight-thirty?” Lily says. Sure enough, the clock on their nightstand reads 8:07. “We stay up after the baby’s gone to sleep, though.”

“What story are we doing tonight, kiddo?” James asks, pressing a raspberry kiss to Harry’s belly until baby giggles fill the bedroom. “How about…Make Way For Ducklings?”

“Ducky!” Harry squeals, reaching for his glasses.

“Alright, baby love.” Lily smiles as she takes a book of the nightstand and opens it up.

“Would you say you sleep well?” Marlene asks.

“Oh, that’s a tough question,” James says—in the bedroom, he and Lily take turns reading pages to Harry as he sits between them and points to the ducks. “It’s better now that he can sleep through the night. I’d say we get a solid seven hours each night, maybe more.”

“I wake up pretty often because I worry,” Lily adds.

“Do either of you talk in your sleep?”

She laughs. “No, thankfully. Once we’re out, we’re out until morning.”

“What’s your body language like?”

“I’m cuddly,” James says with a light laugh. In the video, he wraps an arm around Lily’s shoulders and traces the picture book with one finger, kissing Harry’s chubby baby hand. “She likes to starfish.”

“We’re both big cuddlers,” Lily agrees. The video skips forward in time, showing Lily lowering Harry into his crib while James grabs his phone off the nightstand and squints at it.

They curl up together while the clock continues to tick, and an hour or so later they put their phones away and snuggle under the covers. The night goes on and, slowly, Lily begins to splay out on the mattress, her hair in every direction as James keeps one arm securely around her waist. During a brief pause, their snoring harmonizes.

Harry wakes up just past four with a sniffle and babbles for a moment until James stands up, taking him out of his crib and humming softly as he bounces him; Lily barely flinches. “Baba,” Harry mumbles while he holds on to the edge of James’ shirt. “Baba, baba, baba.”

“Shh, buddy.” James touches their forehead together before setting him back down in the crib. “Sweet dreams. I love you.”

Marlene’s voiceover comes on again as the sun rises outside their window. “What time do you usually wake up?”

“James gets up earlier than I do for practice,” Lily says. A soft alarm jingles on the nightstand and James clumsily turns it off, scrubbing at his eyes for a second before digging his glasses out of the nightstand and sitting up—he leans over to kiss Lily’s forehead before getting up for real.

“Around seven, seven-thirty usually,” James confirms. “I don’t actually know what time you get up most weekdays.”

“Oh, probably eight-thirty or nine? Once Harry’s up, I’m up.”

Marlene hums. “How important is your bedroom to you? What about your bed?”

“Both are so important.” James doesn’t hesitate. “Evenings and nights are the longest period of time we spend together because of my job.”

“It’s a very safe space,” Lily says. “Life is so hectic, but once we’re in bed we don’t have to go anywhere else.”

The bedroom disappears—Lily and James sit in chairs in the Lion Pride studio with Marlene across from them. “Thanks so much for joining us today, you guys!” she says with a smile. “I’m really looking forward to filming this video.”

Couple Number Two: Kasey Winter and Natalie Darcy

Their bedroom is smaller than the Potters’ and painted light blue with large windows. Outside, night has fallen and the light of the city shines through their blinds as Kasey closes them; Natalie is already in bed, reading a paperback with her legs crossed on top of the blankets.

Kasey turns the light off and climbs in next to her, resting his head on her thigh as he dozes off and she continues to read by her bedside lamp. “Goodnight,” he murmurs. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Natalie smiles and runs her fingers through his hair.

“How long have you been together?” Marlene asks.

“We’ve been dating for four years now,” Kasey’s voice says. In their bedroom, the video speeds up until eleven thirty, when Natalie puts her book down and settles into Kasey’s arms.

“Do you go to bed early or late? It’s just the two of you, right?”

“Right. Kase likes going to bed before me because he has to get up earlier, but I’m a night owl.”

“Does that make it hard for you to sleep well?”

“Not at all,” Kasey says. “She sleeps like a log and I’m always careful not to wake her up on workdays. We like to sleep in on days off.”

Marlene hums in agreement. “Do either of you talk in your sleep?”

“Nope. I’m a light sleeper, so it’s nice that neither of us do it.”

The video continues through the night and sure enough, the only sound is their soft breathing; Natalie presses against Kasey’s chest with an arm over his shoulders. “What’s your body language like when you sleep? Are you cuddlers?”

“I love cuddles!” Kasey says with an almost-audible smile. Sure enough, he snuggles into Natalie with a soft sigh as the clock on their wall turns to 4 am.

“How many hours of sleep do you get every night?” Marlene asks.

They take a moment to think, and the sun begins to shine through their bedroom window. “Ten to six am is…about eight hours? I can get by on six, though.”

“I need a solid eight, eight and a half to function,” Natalie says. “Though sometimes I’ll get up and do something before going back to bed until nine.”

“How important is your bedroom to you?”

“That’s a good question.” Kasey hums in thought. “I value it a lot because it’s a place to be close to her, and that’s hard to get when we’re both so busy.”

“I agree.”

On screen, Kasey’s alarm begins to ring and he stretches, gently detaching Natalie’s hold and kissing her shoulder as he pulls the blankets up to her chin and slides out of bed. “Have a good day, baby,” she mumbles sleepily.

“Love you,” he whispers back as he brushes her hair out of her eyes.

The video cuts; Kasey and Natalie have taken James and Lily’s places. “Thanks for agreeing to do this, guys!” Marlene says.

“I’m looking forward to it.” Natalie says with a slight smile.

Couple Number 3: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin

The third bedroom is cluttered and neat at the same time. Knickknacks line the dresser and various items are scattered on the nightstand, but the floor is clean and the dark blue bedspread is tidy as Remus reads against the headboard. On the other side of the room, Sirius stops midway through brushing his teeth to change into a sleep shirt and Remus laughs at his muffled grumbling.

“How long have you been together?” Marlene asks again in her voiceover.

“We’ve been dating for over a year now,” Remus says.

“What time do you go to bed?”

“Oh, maybe ten pm? Eleven?” Sirius guesses. “Whenever we’re tired.”

The clock reads ten forty-five as Sirius gets under the covers and wraps his arms around Remus’ torso, cuddling against his waist and leg while Remus strokes his hair. Ten minutes pass until he puts the book down and turns off the light before scooting back against Sirius’ chest to be the little spoon. “Love you,” he says quietly.

Sirius kisses behind his ear. “Je t’aime.”

“What’s your body language like when you sleep?” Marlene asks. “Cap, everyone knows about your famous cuddles.”

He snorts. “Usually we spoon, but sometimes it changes up.”

“We kind of have to spoon,” Remus laughs. “You’d wake up on the floor otherwise.”

“I would not!” Sirius protests. In the video, an hour has passed, and he unconsciously tries to roll over Remus, who reaches up and pushes his shoulder back without opening his eyes. He shifts a few more times before settling down.

“Do you talk in your sleep as well?” Marlene continues.

Remus sighs. “No, that would be me.”

“It’s cute and awful at the same time,” Sirius says. “On one hand, it wakes me up, but on the other, we have the best conversations.”

At 2:12 am, Remus scrunches his nose up in his sleep. “Hey. Hey.”

Sirius huffs and cracks an eye open. “Quoi?”

“Go away.”

There’s a pause and Sirius sits up, clearly still half-asleep. “Huh?”

“The cat’s in the garden, dumbass. That cat—the cat is in the garden.”

With a heavy sigh, Sirius gets under the covers again and wraps his arms around Remus. “Okay, mon coeur.”

“Blueberry milkshake.”

“That doesn’t exist.”

“Yes, it does.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Shut up, Pots, nobody asked you.” Remus says playfully, then hums and pulls Sirius closer. “Bonjour, honey. Je t’aime.”

In the voiceover, Marlene laughs. “What do you two talk about?”

“Oh, everything,” Sirius replies.

An hour and a half passes in fast motion on screen; they move around a little bit, but overall stay cuddled up and comfortable. “The tea. Honey, the tea. Tea’s burning.”

Sirius reaches over and puts his hand over Remus’ mouth gently. “Shhh.”

“Tea’s burning,” Remus repeats, though his voice is muffled until he bats Sirius’ hand away. “Hugs and kisses, hugs and kisses.”

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s the meaning of life?”

Remus is quiet for a beat. “Pun’kin pie.”

“Why do you talk in your sleep?”

“I love you.”

“How could we have done better in our last game?” Sirius is grinning now and rubbing slow circles over Remus’ back. “I was a little worried about our defense.”

“Hmm. Apples.” Remus turns over and nuzzles against Sirius. “See you later, alligator.”

Sirius shakes with suppressed laughter for a moment until the voiceover starts again. “What time do you wake up in the morning?” Marlene asks. “Practice starts pretty early.”

“Sirius wakes up earlier than I do, but we don’t get out of bed until seven-ish,” Remus says, sounding far more awake than he did in the video. “We try to aim for eight hours of sleep, but that doesn’t always happen.”

“How important is your bedroom?”

Sunlight streams through the cracks in the blinds at six am, lighting up Remus’ face on one side as Sirius starts to wake up. He pauses with a smile and runs his thumb along Remus’ cheek before kissing his forehead and settling onto his back.

“Our bedroom is really important,” Sirius answers. “It’s a safe space where there’s no pressure to do anything and we can just be ourselves.”

Remus smacks his alarm at six-thirty and starts sitting up, only for Sirius to wrap all four limbs around him and drag him back down for more cuddles; Remus laughs, but happily obliges. The camera cuts out just as they start getting out of bed half an hour later.

“Thanks for answering my questions,” Marlene says with a grin. “I gotta say, I’m looking forward to the sleep talking.”

“It’s so funny,” Sirius snickers.

Remus rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Yeah, yeah, alright. Exploit me in my most vulnerable state, why don’t you?”

Couple Number 4: Pascal and Celeste Dumais

“We have been married for fifteen years,” Dumo says as the video begins.

Celeste is already out cold in the bed while he tiptoes around their bedroom, sliding in next to her as quietly as possible; she smiles in her sleep and scoots over to lay her head on his shoulder. It’s clearly a comfortable place for them—the walls are a warm beige and a colorful quilt lays heavy across the sheets.

“Do you sleep well?”

“Sometimes,” Celeste says. “We sleep better now that the kids are older, but I wake up a lot in the middle of the night because I still worry about them.”

“How many hours of sleep do you think you get?”

“Oh, probably seven? I go to bed early, though.”

“I get a steady six to eight,” Dumo says.

“Do you sleepwalk or talk?”

Celeste laughs as Dumo groans. “He used to sleepwalk, but after the kids were born there wasn’t enough consistent sleep to do it anymore.”

In the dark of their bedroom, Dumo moves around quite a lot—he rolls onto his back, then his side, then curls around Celeste, then lays a little bit sideways before she quietly shushes him just past 3 am and puts her hand on his chest. He sighs and leans his head against hers with a drowsy half-smile.

“Do you cuddle?” Marlene asks.

“Sometimes,” Dumo says. “Though we’ve been together for so long that we don’t really have to. I always know where she is.”

“That’s adorable,” Marlene says at the same time Celeste makes a soft sound of affection. “What time do you wake up?”

There is one window in their bedroom, high on the western wall, that shows the slowly-lightening sky. When the clock strikes six, both of them stretch and roll onto their backs, though they stay close enough to share body heat as Dumo combs his fingers through Celeste’s long hair.

“Around six. It’s easier to get up early now that we’re older,” Dumo says. “Besides, the kids don’t get up until later, so we finally get some time to ourselves.”

“Bonjour, mon amour,” Celeste murmurs in the video with a sleepy smile, pressing kisses to Dumo’s cheek. “Hmm, je t’aime.”

“Je t’aime, ma jolie chérie.”

The video returns to the studio after that; Dumo and Celeste hold hands while they talk, and Marlene puts away her notecards with a smile. “Thank you for agreeing to do this, it means a lot. We tried to get a variety of different couples for this and I’m sure the video will turn out great.”

“Ne rien. Good luck with filming!”

A final title card appears. Thanks for watching, Lions! Be sure to like and subscribe for more content.

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hawkinsindiana · 4 years

Text

i don’t want you to worry

ALMOST PARADISE: PART THREE - CHAPTER ONE OF ELEVEN (?)

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 3.8k

a/n: six months later, here’s part three! i’m not gonna lie to y’all, i have no idea how many chapters there are gonna be or if it’ll get updated regularly, but fuck it. i’ve been sitting on this for a while and figured we could use a bit of levity! thank you for your patience! hope you enjoy! lmao i didn’t feel like making a gif pls forgive me

masterlist

Fog is hovering just above the ground; you can practically feel how thick and wet it is against your skin. The hairs on the back of your neck all stand as a gust of wind flows through the air - the freezing temperature makes you shiver.

The ground is wet, squelching underneath your sneakers as you move forward, still uncertain of where you are; the environment’s been completely coated in the dense fog. When your surroundings finally begin to clear a bit, your heart starts to race in fear once you recognize where you are.

It’s the junkyard.

“Stay close, yeah?”

The voice sounds like it’s right inside your ear, but at least he’s here - you’d recognize him anywhere.

Steve’s to your left, bat slung effortlessly over his shoulder, and his presence helps calm your nerves. You won’t have to face this alone.

You want to thank him before the situation gets any worse, but your mouth won’t cooperate. All you’re able to reply with is a nod.

Suddenly, the palm of your hand feels heavy with the weight of your weapon; Steve presses on, moving through the space to approach the threat that lurks beyond. A form begins to take shape behind the grey clouds, hunched down on all fours as it stalks towards your position. Your fingers tense as you prepare to fight and adrenaline begins to overtake you, until the silhouette rises onto two legs. It’s not supernatural, it’s human.

You want to call out to Steve, tell him to fall back because it’s too dangerous but your voice still doesn’t work - you can’t warn him what’s coming. The soles of your shoes dig into the ground as you run to catch up with him, fingers extended out to grab and yank him away.

But it’s too late. One moment he’s right there in front of you, the next he’s gone, vanished right before your eyes. You blink.

On the ground, Steve’s in the dirt, blood spilling from his face; Billy Hargrove quickly approaches.

And then, it’s just like that night. You’re unable to move, unable to save him as Steve tries to fight back but Billy’s too quick. His crimson colored fists are tearing skin with each impact until the brunette boy on the ground is lifeless, as if all warmth was drained right from him. Billy’s twisted grin never falters as he relishes in your pain, tears streaming down your face until-

You wake with a gasp, body jolting, hands shaking.

God, it feels so real, like you’re still there; your nose can smell the disgusting metallic scent from the blood, skin still chilled from the temperature, veins still threaded with adrenaline.

That was only a dream… right?

As soon as that thought is introduced to your worried mind, you throw off the covers before grabbing the nearest hoodie off the bed post. Tugging it over your head, your bare feet skid across the hardwood floor as you rush to the phone in the living room.

Your fingers are trembling as you press the buttons of the number; you have to know if he’s okay. You have to confirm it was just a dream.

“Fuck, Steve,” You start to mutter to yourself, counting the rings to attempt to steady your breathing, “Come on, pick up, pick up.”

The longer it takes, the more nervous you become. The darkness that surrounds you starts to close in, and when you squeeze your eyes shut, the image of him bloodied and lying dead in the dirt haunts you.

“I swear to Christ - Dustin, if that’s you and those bozos again, I’ll come kick your ass myself,” Steve’s voice, tired and very irritated, comes through the speaker.

“Steve! Oh my god-” The back of your throat starts to burn at the feeling of tears welling up; the relief crashes over you in a wave, “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“What? Jesus-” He pauses, his tone softens once he hears it’s you, “Why wouldn’t I be okay? It’s nearly-”

Steve stops again; you reckon it’s to glance at the time.

“Shit, sweetheart it’s nearly two in the morning, what’s goin’ on?”

You sigh, finally realizing that you must’ve awoken him, “Fuck I just-”

The phone is gripped tighter in your hands as you speak, “I really just needed to know that you're okay. It’s stupid, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry-“

“No, no it’s okay-”

“But I-”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me,” Steve’s reassurance helps to slow your pounding heart; he’s okay. He’s safe at home.

There’s nothing to worry about anymore.

You repeat that to yourself multiple times, whispering it to yourself under your breath. At this point, you think that you’d do anything to forget that night.

Your back slides down the wall as your body grows exhausted from the severe reaction; Steve’s voice continues through the phone, “Did something happen?”

“I had-” You force a deep breath through your lungs, face scrunching in fear at the memory, “I had a really bad dream, Steve.”

Your arm wraps around your knees to pull them into your chest, forehead coming down to meet them and dig into the soft material of your pants, “I woke up and fuck, I was so scared. I was so scared and all I could think to do was call you. And I’m all alone. I’m all by myself tonight and I hate that I can’t be alone anymore. And I haven’t slept through the night in weeks-”

“Weeks? What do you mean weeks? I mean - I knew you weren’t sleeping well right after, but Christ it’s been nearly two months!”

You curse at yourself for rambling, words suddenly escaping your mind as you hesitate to respond. With your silence, Steve huffs; you can imagine the disappointment and worry over his face, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You bite down on your lip before answering, only letting up on the pressure when the taste of blood touches your tongue; you’re ashamed of the answer, “I don’t know… I’m sorry, Steve.”

All you feel is guilt in the moments that follow. Something like this… dreams about him dying in front of your eyes isn’t something that should be kept from him.

“Hey,” Steve’s soft tone reels you back in, “You call me whenever you have to. I’ll always pick up, okay?”

You exhale as you nod, before remembering that he can’t see your reaction through the phone, “Okay, yeah. Thank you.”

“Of course, anytime. Are you okay?”

You weave the phone cord between your fingers, “I’m better now. Uh, I’ll let you go then.”

“Okay. Try to get some rest, for my sake,” Steve pleads. You twist the cord tighter, “I will.”

He sighs at your oath, finally able to relax a bit more, “Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight, if it’s too much. Or if you’re tired… ”

You hum at his words, head leaning back against the wall. A smile creeps over your lips at his consideration, wishing that you could thank him in person for his words, “No, no let’s do something. It’ll be good for me.”

He laughs a bit; even with how horrible the quality might be through the receiver, it still makes your stomach flutter with butterflies, “Okay, good. I’ll see you tonight. Get some sleep.”

“I’ll try, Steve.”

After wishing him a good night, you place the phone back onto it’s base. Standing up on wobbly legs, a shaky exhale leaves your lungs when your fingers remove themselves from the smooth plastic. The image of him is still there when you blink.

Fuck - you should’ve told him.

—

Three taps against the window pane startle you awake. Rubbing your eyes as you sit up, you check the time - you were only able to finally fall asleep twenty minutes ago. Anxiety starts to creep over the back of your neck - until you see the culprit.

“Jesus…” You mutter to yourself. You can’t help the small smile that erupts over your face at the sight of Steve, fingers nervously drumming on the window sill. His expression relaxes a bit once you come over, and you’re already rolling your eyes as you move to pull it open.

“You know that I’m the only one home, right?”

Steve nods, not following your logic, “Yeah? And?”

“You could’ve just come to the door, Steve.”

The boy in front of you shifts at your words; his retort stutters as he tries to come up with an excuse, “Okay, alright. But you know, I didn’t want to scare you or anything!”

You step back to cross your arms over your chest, “And coming to my window while I sleep seems a whole lot better to you?”

“Alright whatever, Henderson,” He answers quickly, waving off your tone, “Will you just let me in already?”

You gesture for Steve to enter, laughing quietly to yourself as he does. As soon as he’s crawled his way through the opening, you latch and lock the window closed. He huffs, “You have no idea how thrilled I am that your house only has one floor.”

“Did you drive across the neighborhood just to scare me?” You ignore him, pulling the cord on the lamp by your bedside. The light illuminates the worry on his face.

“No, I just-” Steve pauses as he fiddles with his keys, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. I had to know you were okay.”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest once again, “Y-yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Steve’s brow raises at your deflection, “Um, did we not have the same conversation over the phone?”

“We did,” Your answer is laced with a bit of aggression, “You didn’t need to come all the way over here, okay? I’m fine now-”

“But are you?” Steve interrupts. His voice is genuine, soft, and you want to spill everything because he has that look in his eye; you’re not sure you can push him away forever.

“Of course, Steve-”

“Don’t lie to me,” Steve puts more force behind his words - it’s like a demand. He takes a few steps closer, “Please don’t lie to me.”

Hearing Steve plead with you like that makes your heart shatter. It’s killing him to watch you stand before him like this. He’s known you long enough to know when something’s not right, and he’s gotten especially good at reading you over the past few weeks. And by the way your jaw clenches, Steve knows you’re about to crack.

A shaky inhale comes through your lips; you have to tell him something. But how much?

“I just… I don’t want you to worry,” You mutter. Your voice is just above a whisper, although it doesn’t matter; it’s not like there’s anyone home to overhear. You’re scared to admit there’s something wrong. He shouldn’t have to do this for you.

Steve almost laughs. He runs his free hand through his hair, “It’s like, a year too late for that, you know.”

You sigh, realizing that he’s absolutely right. Of course he should worry, especially with how vague the conversation over the phone was. Letting him in is something that you’ll have to get used to.

Even though you’d been friends for a while, it was always more about him than you. You always wanted to be there for him, if he ever needed anything, how he was doing. It’s something neither of you understood was happening until your relationship became more; it was no one’s fault.

All of a sudden, Steve realized just how much you’ve done for him - he’s wanted to return the favor. And this… is all new to you; you’re not used to someone checking in.

“Oh god, you’re right,” You mumble under your breath. Your hands come up to cover your eyes in shame as you continue, “I’m sorry, Steve. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

Witnessing your sudden change in mood, Steve moves towards you; he sets his keys down on your nightstand as he does. He goes to reach for you, pulling your body into his, “Hey hey, it’s okay, it’s fine.”

He wishes he could come up with something better to say. You’ve always been better with words than him. You’re better at a lot of things than him. But he’s trying - he’s trying to be better to be worthy of you.

Your arms wrap tightly around him once Steve’s pressed against you. He smells like freshly washed cotton, like pulling sheets from the dryer when they’re still warm.

It’s all so overwhelming, it makes you want to cry. You feel like you should, but the familiar burn behind your eyes never comes. Instead, you resume speaking.

“I guess I just…” You trail off, wanting to give him a reason - he deserves one.

Your fist knots the fabric of his tee; Steve’s palm slides up over your back, “I’m just not used to leaning on others for help. I’m trying to get used to it.”

“Sometimes it’s okay,” Steve’s reply is muffled by your hair. He ponders what to add, lips pressed into a firm line as he thinks, “Sometimes you gotta do stuff on your own and sometimes you need somebody else. That’s just how life works.”

Your chest heaves as you sigh at the weight of his words, this moment cements a single fact inside your brain - you won’t plan on hiding anything from him.

Well, except for that one thing. You’re still not ready to admit that to him yet.

You wish that pulling away didn’t mean losing his warmth; but his gentle eyes meeting yours mimics a feeling like it that fills your chest.

“You can lean on me, you know,” Steve says, and the smile that was already pulling at your lips widens even farther. And then he nudges you - his mouth curls into that stupid smirk of his, “However you want.”

You crack a laugh, accompanied by a roll of your eyes, “Yes, I know. Sometimes I just need a little reminder."

Suddenly, you remember just how lucky you are to have him. How fortunate you are to have him there to brighten your darkest moments, even if he’s sometimes battling his own demons at the same time.

“Thank you,” You say, bringing your gaze back to meet Steve’s again. He nods slightly, tone genuine and soft as he answers, “Of course. Anytime.”

The pads of your fingers graze over his cheekbone before tucking a strand of brunette hair behind his ear; Steve shivers a bit at the gentle touch before you meet his lips in a kiss.

He still gets a bit nervous each time, only because this feels so much more different than the others. The level of comfort and security he feels when you’re in the room was never there before he met you. Like really met you.

And you - well, you’re still so overwhelmed that you finally, after all that time, get to be with the one you love - you feel like you could jump out of your skin with joy. You’ve treasured every single moment, because it’s never been lost on you how it all could be taken away in an instant.

The brilliant grin you two share after pulling away shakes it all from your mind. Your fingers move to grip his hands in yours; you just like being able to do it, even if it is in the privacy of your own bedroom.

But then that feeling settles in your stomach, the one that doesn’t go away until morning. The dread that something’s going to happen. Steve can sense your growing anxiety - it’s almost like the air surrounding you changes. Leaving you now, something about that doesn’t sit right with him.

“I’ll uh, stay if you want.”

He mentions the idea quietly because, well, you’re not officially together. But to be fair, he hasn’t asked - but neither have you. Even though your hands are still in his, pressing into his skin, Steve finds it important to ask and make sure you’re on the same page.

You can’t lie - the idea of Steve spending the night makes you a little nervous. Although, knowing that you’re safe with each other might just be the push you need to relax. And with that thought, you’re stepping away from him, “Okay. Yeah, sure.”

The doorknob is so cold against your skin as you exit to grab an extra pillow from the closet in the hallway. The darkness of the living room seems to go on forever; it almost feels like something’s creeping up your neck once your back is turned to it.

After quickly shutting the door once you’re back inside, you turn around to see Steve, perched silently on top of your comforter - his presence warms the entire room, bringing life and love into it.

He hasn’t spent that much time in this space; he’s trying to take everything in, because it’s very reflective of you. There are neat piles of VHS tapes and comics on top of the dresser, a closet dominated with dark colors and sneakers, and some of your well worn denim tossed over the desk chair.

But his eye catches on a stack of photographs on the desk’s surface, and he’s halfway across the room before you can interject. You clutch the pillow a little tighter to your chest as Steve flips through them, laughing at one of you and Dustin from a few years ago at Christmas wearing matching pajamas.

He spins to show it to you, “I’m never gonna let him live this down.”

You approach his side when he finds another one of you as a child, playing with a cake battered spatula in your previous house. Baby curls framed your face, and your eyes were wide with adventure and wonder, “Holy shit, look at you!”

“I don’t know why I remember that day so much,” You mutter.

Steve’s silence pushes you to continue, “It was Mom’s birthday, and my grandparents baked her a cake - double chocolate I think. I wasn’t tall enough to reach but I wanted to help so badly. So they sat me on top of the counter and let me mix everything. They even let me tell her that I made it.”

You laugh quietly before the memory turns cold in your mind, and your wistful smile turns to a slight frown, “I haven’t seen them since we moved here.”

Steve isn’t even looking at the picture anymore. He listened to every word that left your mouth; you don’t speak much about the rest of your family. Instead of trying to probe further, he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, a gentle and silent reminder of his support.

This feels strange. Opening up to him like that, making yourself that vulnerable - that’s a level of intimacy you haven’t explored quite yet. At least not with him… or anyone really.

Thankfully, it hasn’t seemed to scare him off. If anything, Steve’s more relaxed. He likes knowing how you feel.

Steve flips through the others while you rest your chin on his shoulder, your eyes intently watch his reaction to each one - you think you could stay in this moment forever.

And then he comes across one - an image of you and the kids on Halloween a few years back all dressed like Jedi. He pauses on it, “When do you think we should tell them?”

A sharp inhale comes through your nostrils at his comment; you hadn’t thought about that.

In all your bliss, you had completely forgotten - no one else knows. Not even your brother.

“Oh God, Steve-” You start, removing yourself from him, “I don’t even know how we would do that.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve replies, turning back to meet your gaze, “We just… tell them. It’s not rocket science.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you answer, clenching the pillow a bit tighter in your grasp, “It’s really not that simple with them, Steve. You know that. And honestly, I still feel like I’m trying to figure out how to do all this.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair, knowing just how messy involving the kids could make your relationship, “I’ve kinda liked it just being about us. You know, we’re together because we wanna be, it’s not for anyone else. And trust me, they’ll have so many opinions-”

“So let’s keep it to ourselves then,” Steve interjects, shrugging his shoulders a bit as he answers, “We’ll tell ‘em when we think it’s right, when we’re sure if this is serious or not.”

You hated keeping your feelings for him a secret. You hated that you were never able to tell him, but this is different. The idea sends a rush of excitement through your veins, you can’t deny it.

He smiles a bit and sets the photos down before continuing, “I know it might be too early to tell, but I feel like this could last, you know.”

You feel blood rise into your cheeks when he looks at you like that - irises filled to the brim with admiration. His hands come up to cup your face as you reply, “Me too.”

Steve leans in to drink a slow kiss from your lips, the kind that leaves you breathless when it’s over.

“Good,” He mutters, earning a small grin from you. Steve takes the pillow out of your grasp, “What do you say we try and get a couple hours of sleep in? I guess Dustin wants to go to the arcade before lunch.”

You laugh, pushing your hair back away from your face as you answer, “I will never be able to get used to that, I’m sorry.”

Steve tosses the pillow onto the empty spot on the mattress while you pull back the comforter. The bed dips as you both settle under the covers; Steve’s arm starts to slide over your waist before stopping abruptly, “Is this okay?”

You clear your throat, “Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

The darkness washes over the room after you pull the cord to the lamp; it doesn’t feel as scary with Steve lying behind you. His touch stops your mind from wandering as it so often does - it can’t concoct anything to torment you with.

That being said, the sight from the earlier nightmare does appear behind your eyelids when you blink.

“It was about you,” You mutter, “The dream.”

It’s spoken before you can stop yourself. You instantly regret it, due to the lack of a reply that follows.

But then Steve tugs you closer, and you feel like you could melt against him. He tucks his nose right underneath the base of your hairline, deeply inhaling as you relax into him.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles against your skin; your fingers curl around his as a quiet thank you.

Steve thinks that this is probably what home is supposed to feel like - warm clothes, the scent of your shampoo, a comfortable silence to lull you both to sleep. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more comfortable.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, the pair of you have finally found a bit of peace.

—

taglist: @stevebabey / @mrsukai / @hannarudick / @crazycookiecrumbles / @hellisateenageheather / @alewifex / @l0ve-0f-my-life / @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 / @daddystevee / @thecaptainsgingersnap / @let-the-imaginationflow / @asianravenpuff / @im-a-stranger-thing / @mikariell95 / @pilunb / @harringtherin / @royalestrellas / @ultrunning / @buggs177 / @poutfull / @yoheyyosup / @duchessdaisybat / @janieavalos / @sassisaluxury / @beththebubbly / @i-bitch-you-bitch / @captainstilinskis / @juliebean247 / @im-nada / @whatabeautifulsurrender / @rexorangecouny / @pass-me-jeez-it / @ahoy-scoops-troop / @halefirewarrior / @jointhehunt67 / @wallacetdog / @ketchuplukehemmo / @m-a-r-i-n-t-p / @fangirl485 / @emmegirl827 / @lookalivesunshine-x / @elite4cekalyma / @marjoherbo / @just-my-fandom / @idumpyourgrass / @alafolieee / @mochminnie / @phantomalchemist / @dustyblueboo / @alonewolfsblog / @ggclarissa / @hufflepuffing-all-day-long / @bippityboppitybabe / @readinthegarden12 / @bakugouishusbando

if you wanna be added to the taglist, just lemme know!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #st fic #st imagine #my writing #almost paradise

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svnflowervol666 · 4 years

Text

Ma Petite Chérie: Sweet Creature (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Read more from this little universe, Ma Petite Chérie, in my masterlist!

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Harry goes out of town and leaves Tallulah with Y/N for the week.

Author’s Note: Hiiiii. I decided to turn Ma Petite Chérie into it’s own little “thing,” so here’s another look at Harry, Tallulah and Y/N’s life! I’ve found it much easier to write in little blips rather than following a direct plot, so expect random little moments featuring the three of them. Also, this is not proofread and I am going through a period of having full blown insomnia, so I’m praying there aren’t too many mistakes. I hope you all enjoy and send any ideas, asks, or questions you have for them my way and I’ll be happy to respond! Take care and TPWK.

“I left her car seat in the garage. If she starts gettin’ fussy during the day, just put her in her room and turn on the noise machine and let her color - that usually does it. I refilled her medicine the other day, didn’t I-”

“Har-,” she shushed him, “We’ll be fine. I know the drill. Allergy meds and gummy vitamins in the morning, french vocabulary every other day, no tv before bed, and no sugar after six.”

He took a deep breath in and placed his palms on top of Y/N’s that are gripping his shoulders to ground him. He was a mess, but how could he not when one of the only people he trusted with his daughter, his mother, was away on holiday and couldn’t stay with her when he had to go on a week-long business trip? It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Y/N, he absolutely did. He just hated feeling like she thought he was using her as a free babysitter rather than the loving girlfriend she actually was. That couldn’t be further from the truth, but his anxieties always had a way of getting the best of him.

“Sorry. Always get nervous leavin’ her. Feel like something bad’s gonna happen every time and I won’t be there t’ help her.”

“It’s just a few days, bubs. She seems to like me, or at least pretends to. I’ll keep her entertained. Take her to the park and go get our nails done or something. It’ll be like one, big sleepover.”

“If yeh take her t’ the park, make sure yeh put sunscreen o-”

“Harry,” she’s stern and it shut Harry up immediately.

“Right,” he paused and took another intense, labored breath in an attempt to stop himself from canceling his plans and just staying home with Y/N and Tallulah for the week.

“She does like yeh. Asks about yeh all the time when you’re gone. Loves yeh a lot, actually. We both do.”

That word used to scare him, love. He realized long ago that he had only ever truly been in love with his daughter, so making himself vulnerable to sharing those same emotions with another person was genuinely terrifying. But each and every time, Y/N does something to remind him that it is well-worth the internal struggle he’s endured.

The proud smile that adorned Y/N’s face at his words is another one of those moments. It’s full of light and reassurance that his baby will be perfectly safe and healthy while he tended to business an entire continent away.

“I love you both as well. Might have a slight preference towards Lulah, but it’s nothing to worry yourself over.”

“Swear yeh only datin’ me because of her,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“You’re absolutely right,” she scoffed, “I only come over five nights out of the week to watch The Little Mermaid with her and I just tolerate you.”

Harry laughed, a genuine cackle that reared his cavernous dimples and turned the apples of his cheeks a pale shade of pink.

“I’d do the same,” he said with a shrug.

“Harry, you’re stalling. You’re gonna miss your flight if you don’t get on the road soon. I don’t think you want me to kick you out of the door.”

He feigned ponderance and tapped his index finger on his chin.

“I do love it when yeh mean t’ me.”

“Harry, go.”

“Alright, alright. I’m leaving. Just...check in with me every once in a while. Let me know how she’s doin’, yeah? I’ll call every night t’ talk t’ her.”

“Was already expecting you to.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she repeated.

He cleared his throat, heart weighing heavy in his chest. He knew he was supposed to leave for the airport ten minutes ago, but he couldn’t find himself to wheel his luggage out to the trunk of his car.

“Goodbye, Harry,” Y/N whispers in hushed tones.

She reached up on her tiptoes to plant a chaste kiss on his bright pink lips, which he then took upon himself to deepen by loosely wrapping his fingers around her throat and applying just enough pressure to make her contemplate giving into his obvious hesitance about leaving.

“Tell Lulah I love her when she wakes up, okay? Feel like shit leavin’ her in the middle of the night.”

“I’ll tell her first thing.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too, Harry,” she smiles, “See you in a week.”

Their first few days went by smoothly, a little too smoothly, Y/N thinks. She’d let her pick one activity to do each day and it seemed like to Harry and Y/N, she was having the time of her life.

Monday was the park, an obvious choice for a toddler. Tallulah wore herself out so much that she’d gone to bed that night with no trouble whatsoever.

Tuesday was a pampering day. Y/N had tried to get them into her preferred nail salon for pedicures, but there were no empty slots so she’d made up Harry’s master bathroom to look like a spa. She painted Tallulah’s nails blue (because Tallulah said blue was her dad’s favorite color), ran her a bubble bath with more bubbles than Harry ever allowed, and even let her put on some of her expensive face mask cream (Harry nearly shit himself out of pure adoration when he received a selfie of the two of them with pink goop smeared all over their faces and cucumbers over their eyes).

Tallulah’s request for Wednesday was a trip to the carnival that was in town, in which Y/N spent nearly fifteen dollars trying to win a stuffed bear for her but was unsuccessful. They went home with a real, live goldfish instead that Tallulah named Carrot because she claimed he looked like her favorite vegetable - she told Tallulah not to mention it to Harry and that she’d break the news to him later. She even let Tallulah have sugar after six o’clock (what Harry knew wouldn’t hurt him and besides, she told Y/N that she’d never had cotton candy before and Y/N totally wanted bragging rights for introducing her to basically a two-year-old’s fever dream of eating pink clouds).

She hadn’t asked about Harry once.

It wasn’t until Wednesday night after the carnival and her bath and daily FaceTime call with him that she began to get antsy with Y/N, claiming that she wanted her dad to tuck her in and read her a bedtime story. No matter how many times Y/N told her that Harry couldn’t do that but that he would be home in a few days, Tallulah didn’t understand why her dad wasn’t there to give her cuddles and rub her back until she fell asleep like he often did. Eventually, her exhaustion caught up to her and she gave in to the need for sleep, but Y/N had a feeling that that wouldn’t be the end of her tantrum.

It was nearly eleven o’clock, and Y/N was in the living room enjoying a glass of red wine from Harry’s vast collection of alcohol that he kept in his office (for some reason he had an irrational fear that Tallulah would somehow get into it, so he kept it locked away in a room where she wasn’t allowed in). The fermented concoction had almost lulled her to into a light slumber right there on the couch in the middle of a documentary about how agriculture influenced climate change when she heard the piercing cries of a toddler coming from down the hall.

Y/N rushed towards Tallulah’s room, all effects of the wine immediately dissipating as her mind went to the worst possible scenario. She’d fallen off her bed and hurt herself, she was having an allergic reaction, there was a strange man in her room trying to kidnap her. But there was seemingly nothing wrong with Tallulah when Y/N flung her bedroom door open so quickly she almost broke the knob.

“What’s wrong, Lulah?” she asked as she approached her on the bed that sat low to the ground.

Tallulah was red in the face, covered in a thin layer of sweat, and tears continuously flowed from her bright, green eyes that looked exactly like Harry’s and even shifted a teal blue in the sunlight.

Y/N’s heart sunk when she heard it. Over and over again. Nothing else. Only crying out one word.

“Daddy.”

She didn’t want to overwhelm her, so Y/N laid down next to Tallulah and pulled her close. As she brushed her curls away from where they were matted to her sweaty forehead, Y/N cooed her reptitiously in an attempt to calm her down. After about three minutes of incesant crying and copious amounts of fat, shiny tears, Y/N needed a better idea.

“I know you miss him, bubs. I miss him too. But he’ll be home soon, okay? I know something that might make you feel better. Do you want to come in daddy’s room with me?”

It was quiet and muffled over her blubbery cries, but Y/N heard a tiny, “yes,” escape through her lips and then she was scooping Tallulah up into her arms and carrying her off to the master bedroom.

She placed her in the middle of Harry’s bed and quickly began digging through Harry’s dresser for what she was looking for. When she found it, she ran back to Tallulah’s curled up body on the mattress.

“Okay, whenever I miss your dad, I put on one of his shirts because it smells like him. It always makes me feel like he’s close to me. Do you want try that?”

The toddler had calmed down dramatically since she’d left her own bed, most likely due to exhaustion from crying so much in such a short period of time. She gave Y/N a gentle nod and let her take off her matching set of pajamas and replace them with the shirt of Harry’s that dropped almost all of the way to her feet. It was a white t-shirt with the words “Dream Boat” screened onto the fabric, which was perhaps a bit controversial for his two-year-old daughter to be wearing, but it was the smallest shirt of his that she could find. Otherwise, it’d be falling off of her shoulders and she wouldn’t be able to move.

“Can you smell it?” Y/N bunches the fabric in her hands and raises it to Tallulah’s nose.

“Smells like daddy, doesn’t it?”

Tallulah inhaled the best she could through her stuffy nose.

“‘mells good,” she whimpered, reaching her short arms to wrap around Y/N’s neck.

“Do you want to lie in daddy’s bed with me for a little bit? You can sleep in here, if you want,” Y/N spoke softly into Tallulah’s hair while she held her.

Y/N felt a nod against her chest and that was all it took for her to climb towards the pillow with Tallulah in her arms. She laid Tallulah on Harry’s side of the bed, hoping that the extra scent he left in the sheets would further will her back to sleep.

And it worked.

After reaffirming what felt like a million times that Harry would cuddle her for an entire day straight when he got home because he missed her just as much as she missed him, her eyes slowly shut and peace took over. Y/N thought the coast was clear and a crisis had been averted, and she also remembered that she hadn’t taken her makeup off yet. So she wriggled Tallulah off of her chest and slipped stealthily out of the bed like a burglar attempting to not get caught and tiptoed away into the bathroom to wash her face.

Right when she was patting her face dry with one of the plush towels on the rack in Harry’s bathroom, she realized that the coast was indeed, not clear, and Tallulah began wailing once again.

“It’s okay, Lulah. I’m right here,” Y/N consoled the small girl that looked even smaller in Harry’s king-sized bed.

But she wasn’t interested in Y/N at all. Her sobbing was louder than the last and it was Harry’s name that fell from her weepy lips like it was the only thing keeping her alive. This time, Y/N knew there was nothing that could soothe her besides Harry himself.

“Here, baby,” Y/N wriggled the toddler out of her arms and reached over to the nightstand to grab her cell phone, “Let’s see if daddy’s awake and maybe you can talk to him again, okay?”

“Okay,” Tallulah huffed, but it sounded more like “o-tay.”

Under any other circumstances, Y/N would be awing at the way she said certain words, but now, she just wanted Tallulah to go back to sleep. She was just as exhausted as Tallulah and was starting to become overwhelmed by the nature of everything that was happening.

Harry picked up her FaceTime on the second ring, eyes wide and concerning even though Y/N could tell that her call had woken him up.

“What’s goin’ on? ‘S she alright?”

Her cries that he heard through his speaker broke his heart, and he wanted nothing more than to jump on the next flight home to hold his sweet little girl until all of the tears had dried from her face.

“She’s been crying for the last hour, Har. She wants you. Maybe talk to her a little and see if she calms down?”

She heard Harry curse under his breath and rub the sleep out of his eyes. There was a sense of relief that washed over him when he realized that everything was alright and his daughter wasn’t in any immediate danger, but he didn’t quite feel better by any means. Y/N tilted the phone down towards Tallulah who had taken to rubbing the corner of Harry’s pillowcase between her thumb and forefinger.

“Lulah, baby. Talk t’ me. What’s the matter?”

“Daddy?” her face lifted from where it was buried in her stuffed elephant that she’d had since she was a baby and looked up to see her father’s face lit up on Y/N’s phone screen.

“Hi, lovie. Why’re yeh cryin’?”

“Want you come home,” she pouted, her bottom lip jutting out in a way that made her look far too adorable for how sad she really was.

“I know yeh do, petal. I’ll be home soon. I promise. Then, we can have a big cuddle. Does that sound good?”

“You come home tomorrow?” she asked, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

Harry internally cringed when he saw her wipe it on his sheets, but he was obviously not going to scold her for it at the moment.

“Not tomorrow, but soon. I’m not goin’ anywhere for a long time after this so it’ll be just me and you for a bit.”

Tallulah grew upset by this, and understandably so. Her dad always gave her cuddles when she was sad. Why was he telling her that he couldn’t?

He sensed her tears springing back to life, to which he quickly diverted her attention away from.

“Tell me more about what yeh did with Y/N today at the carnival, bug.”

After sucking up a few slobbery breaths, Tallulah was able to speak to Harry again.

“We got a fishy.”

Damnit.

Harry’s ears perked up.

“A fishy? At the carnival? How did yeh do that?”

“Y/N gotted it.”

“She did?”

Y/N knew Harry was not only talking to Tallulah but also to her. A tone that suggested Y/N had some explaining to do, but he wasn’t going to bring that up now.

“Yeah, she winned a game.”

“Does the fishy have a name?”

“Carrot.”

This made Harry snort, as he was not expected that one.

“And did Y/N get Carrot a nice bowl and some food?”

“Mhmm,” Tallulah nodded, “He’s in the kitchen.”

“Well, that sounds lovely. I can’t wait to meet Carrot. Gonna give him cuddles when I get home, too.”

“He said he loves you.”

“That’s very sweet of him. Tell Carrot I love him, too.”

There was a long pause in which Harry, Tallulah, and Y/N all yawned, clearly overtaken by the urge to fall into a deep sleep.

“It’s really late, Lulah. Yeh think yeh can go back t’ bed for me?”

Tallulah brazenly shook her head from side to side, no.

Harry sighed heavily, his frustration and sadness becoming all too much for him to bear. He was nervous to do what he was about to offer, but he knew it was the last resort in anyone in this scenario getting any sleep whatsoever.

“What if I sing yeh your song? Will that make yeh feel better?”

He watched as her eyes light up with a glint of joy and he knew that that was possibly the cure to everyone’s problems.

“Peas?”

“Of course, baby. Thank yeh for usin’ yeh manners.”

Y/N laid the phone down so she could reposition Tallulah in her lap as Harry’s melodic voice began to pour from the speakers.

It was her favorite song in the entire world. No matter what was wrong or how upset she was, the second he sang the first few notes and the sound registered in her ears, Tallulah was always able to bring herself back down to earth.

The first time he sang it to her, she was only ten weeks old, just two weeks after she was brought into his life. He first thought it was a one-off chance that the song had lulled her to sleep, but he quickly found out he was wrong and that she took a genuine liking to it. He’s always assumed it brought on a sense of familiarity and comfort to her whenever she felt like her tiny, two-year-old life was crashing down on her.

Y/N had never actually seen him sing to her. She’d heard it a time or two through the door of her bedroom when she stayed over, but she’d never asked Harry about it. She had always let their song be just that - their song.

Hopefully, and he genuinely means hopefully, the trick works just as well as it usually does despite him not being there physically. He’s got to be up at five and he refuses to hang up the phone until his baby isn’t sad anymore.

It took a bit longer than usual, but by the second round of the chorus, her eyelids were heavy and the grip she had on Y/N’s lotus pendant had weakened. Hell, the song almost put Y/N to sleep as well. Had she not been worried sick over waking Harry up in the middle of the night and his daughter spilling the beans about the fucking fish, she would have been out well before Tallulah. She loved his singing voice, but she only ever got to hear it when he bopping along to a song on the radio or when he was really, really drunk.

As the last few notes of the song trailed to silence, both Y/N and Harry took a peek at Tallulah through the phone screen, eager to see if she was fully asleep or just in a state of tranquility. Sure enough, she was out cold.

“I think she’s asleep,” Y/N whispered.

“Thank god,” Harry muttered, “Bloody awful, that was. She’d been cryin’ like that the whole time?”

“Pretty much. Sorry for calling so late, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“‘S alright. Honestly, I was waiting for it. When she stays with mum, I usually get a call or two just like this. By the way, was she wearin’ my ‘Dream Boat’ shirt?”

Y/N starts to chuckle but remembers there is a fragile (both physically and emotionally) child on her chest and she can’t move too much in fear of waking her back up.

“Yeah, she is. I told her I wear your shirts and sleep on your side of the bed when I miss you because they smell like you and thought it would calm her down. It kinda did, but she woke up when I left to go to the bathroom.”

“Christ,” Harry wipes his face with his large, ringed hands.

“What?”

“That’s the cutest shit I’ve ever heard in my life. I love you. A lot.”

“I love you a lot, too,” Y/N grinned.

After a brief moment, Harry talks again.

“So, what’s this about a fish named Carrot?”

Y/N grits her teeth together and sucks in a deep breath.

“Have you seen her face? I know you have. What was I supposed to tell her? No? Got that fucker on the first try after spending seventeen dollars trying to win her a stuffed animal.”

A laugh from deep within Harry’s belly reached the surface and he stifled it with his fist.

“You’ve got a point, princess.”

“I can get rid of him, if you want. I figured she’d get bored and forget about him in a few days, so it wasn’t a big deal.”

“No,” Harry insists, “Keep him. Teach her how t’ take care of him. Give her a responsibility. Maybe she’ll stop harrassin’ me about gettin’ a damn cat.”

“Already done,” Y/N smiles proudly at the camera.

“She knows we feed him in the mornings and she told me she’d help clean his bowl once a week. Even taught her how to say ‘fish’ in french.”

“Have I already told yeh that I love yeh? ‘Cause I do.”

“You did. But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

Harry took a moment to just look at her. Her eyes were bloodshot and he knew she probably felt like she’d just been to hell and back, but there, with his baby girl on her chest, she had never looked more beautiful. He was physically incapable of stopping the words that left his mouth.

“Move in with me.”

“Hmm?” she lifted her head from where it was resting halfway on her pillow and halfway on Harry’s as if to see if he really just said what she thought he said.

“Only if yeh want to. I know it’s a bigger deal because of Lulah, so I get it if yeh still want yeh space. Just...really want yeh around all of the time. And I know she does, too.”

Y/N smiled from ear to ear and placed her free hand that wasn’t holding the phone on top of Tallulah’s curls. She’d been wondering when this conversation would happen, given that she sleeps over at Harry’s more than she does her own apartment and she’d slowly taken over half of the drawers in his bathroom and three shelves in his closet; she just hadn’t expected it to come at midnight, directly after his daughter had the biggest meltdown she’d ever witnessed.

“If I say yes, will you sing to me like that every night?”

Harry blushed beet red as he breathed heavily through his nose.

“If that’s what it takes. Then, yes.”

“Think Lulah’s strong enough to help me carry some boxes?”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #dad!harry #dad!Harry styles #dad!harry x reader #dad!harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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roman-writing · 3 years

Text

bring home a haunting (10/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 18,021

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

Author’s notes: you’ll notice that we’ve stopped updating weekly. This is due to the fact that we’ve run out of backlogged material and are now writing in real time. Thank you for your patience with the final few updates.

read it below or read it on AO3 here

X: 1978-1983

—

The summer air was a warm suggestion of a breeze. The curtains trembled slightly in its passing, just a feeble stir that could not quell even the muted birdsong of robins. A bedroom awash in late afternoon sunlight that softened the wooden furniture and the textured wallpaper until everything was steeped to the same pastel shade of the bedsheets.

Dani sat in the chair before her cramped writing desk. It was too small to do any real work, but it was the only thing she could fit into this room – her own space – without her mother complaining. Most days it was used for little more than picture frames, curios, and stacks of clean laundry waiting to be tucked away into drawers, neat and soldierly. Today she had cleared a space and placed on it a blank sheet of paper, a pen, and an envelope with no address.

The heat was such that the back of Dani’s thighs stuck to the wooden chair when she shifted in her seat. She folded her heel atop the chair so she could rest her chin against her knee and stare at the sheet of paper. She chewed at the edge of her thumbnail until the skin there was raised and red and ragged, until she tasted the tang of copper, until she had to tuck her thumb away behind a closed fist and press her knuckles to her mouth.

The summer days were long and mercifully empty. No assignments. School wouldn’t start again for another month. No mother. Karen was out at some work function and had elected to leave Dani behind for once. No obligations. Nowhere to be. Nothing but the slow whittling away of minutes, of hours, of walking down the warm familiar streets and feeling the cold notion wash over her that she had let another day slip away.

Taking her courage into her hands, Dani picked up the pen. She held it over the page, as if in the vain hope her thoughts could flow from the tip of the pen without her input. She sat up straight, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, began to write.

‘Dear Jamie –’

—

The sharp edges of the walkie talkie dug into her palm as she gripped it with white knuckles. Vestiges of a dream still hovered over her, just as the pale suggestion of diffused moonlight shone through her curtains. Her thumb hesitated over the press-to-talk button, still curled into the same tangle of limbs and sheets she had woken up in, her breath now back to normal from the shallow gasping that had felt like drowning. Usually, there was a comfort in knowing that Eddie was a creature of routine. In bed by eleven, but asleep by twelve after sneaking in another hour of reading. But looking at her bedside clock now, red numbers blinking the witching hour in the dark, deftly ignoring the photo frame just beside it, Dani wavered, knowing he’d be asleep by now.

Hearing the distant sounds of the television still going through the floor, the hum of the box fan — her mother asleep or awake, she couldn’t really care — Dani exhaled a slow trembling breath, and pressed down on the button.

“Eddie?” Dani murmured softly. She waited for a long moment, pressing her forehead against the plastic, but when he didn’t respond, she swallowed hard and repeated, “Eddie? Are you there?”

She grimaced at the poor word choice, but kept silent, waiting. In the long stretch of silence, she let her eyes slip closed, her throat feeling thick. She sighed and whispered again, “Eddie?” feeling as though she was calling through some distant veil.

There was still no response. Just as resignation was settling heavy in her chest, exhaustion pressing on her eyelids, static buzzed through the speakers. “Danielle?” came a heavy, sleep-ridden voice.

“I’m sorry,” Dani whispered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - go back to sleep. It’s fine.”

“Are you okay?” Eddie murmured, along with the sound of shuffling fabric. Dani remained silent, worrying her lower lip, guilt whorling in her stomach. When she didn’t respond, Eddie spoke again, sounding slightly more awake, but no less gruff. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “I - um. I just - “

“Can’t sleep?”

“Something like that.”

He was silent for a moment, and carefully asked, “Another nightmare?”

“Yes,” she said in a small voice.

“Do you want to talk about it this time?”

Against her will, before she could even stop herself, Dani’s eyes darted to the photo frame. To Jamie’s broad smile, to her younger self clinging on to Jamie’s back as Jamie held her up in a piggyback. Her breath catching in her throat, Dani blinked and turned on her back to stare fixedly at the streaks of moonlight stretching along her ceiling like slim, ghostly fingers.

“No,” Dani murmured, pressing a palm to her eyes to banish the burning there, “I just - I wanted to hear your voice.”

Eddie hummed, as though half asleep already. “Won’t your mom hear?”

“She’s downstairs.”

“Okay,” Eddie said, the static dropping quiet briefly, but quickly returned along with the new sound of ruffling paper, “Want me to read aloud again?”

Biting back the embarrassment burning her cheeks, Dani murmured, “Please?”

Chuckling softly, Eddie said, “Are you up for some Lord of the Rings, or something else?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Lord of the Rings it is,” Eddie murmured, and then quietly began to recite from where they had left off last time.

Dani slipped her eyes shut again as she listened, resting the walkie talkie against her chest. For however much she tried, for how many times Eddie had asked for her thoughts on one plot point or another, Dani for the life of her could never remember a single passage the morning after. It was never about the story, nor was it simply just listening to Eddie’s sleep-roughened voice for all the comfort it gave her. If she could shut her eyes, and leave the walkie talkie on the pillow beside her head, she could almost imagine it. Eddie lying beside her, with her head on his shoulder, and for a second she could pretend he smelled of sandalwood instead of sharp soap, the fabric under cheek flannel instead of a woolen sweater, and —

It wasn’t the same. It’d never be the same. Not with guilt burning like acid in her stomach, not with her chest feeling so heavy and tight. Drawing in a low breath, Dani slowly peeled herself away from her too warm comforter and off her bed to pad quietly towards her open window, keeping the walkie talkie close to her chest. She slipped through her thin curtains that danced in a slight breeze and leaned her elbows on the windowsill, resting her chin on her arm as she looked out into the night of her backyard.

Beneath the low tones of Eddie’s voice, there was the sound of crickets and the whisper of a warm breeze. The neighborhood was dark but for the glow of distant streetlamps and the gleam of the moon and starlight. And just there in the far distance, a plane blinked red and white lights as it passed far overhead in the dark sky like a manmade shooting star. Maybe if it were a few months ago, maybe then she would have pressed her eyes shut and made a silly, small wish. Top marks on her next test. A new dress for her birthday. Her favorite meal for dinner. But her wishes seemed too big these days. Too large to fit in the palm of her hands. Words that felt more like prayer on her tongue.

Sighing softly, Dani’s gaze drifted slowly towards the tree with it’s thick trunk and long limbs that stretched towards her window, leaves ruffling softly. Eddie was still murmuring diligently, reciting some passage that happened to be some poem or song.

“He sought her ever, wandering far where leaves of years were thickly strewn. By light of moon and ray of star, in frosty heavens shivering. Her ma — “

“Eddie?” Dani interrupted softly.

Eddie fumbled over the words. “Yeah?”

“Do you still know how to climb trees?”

He was quiet for a long moment. “Sure. Yeah. I mean - I haven’t tried since Tommy dared me years ago, so I guess?”

“Do you think,” Dani started slowly, “that you could climb the one in my backyard?”

“Probably.”

“Would you?”

“What - like - right now?”

“No, I - I - ” Dani stumbled, and swallowed thickly.

“Danielle,” Eddie sighed, and there was the sound of a book being shut, “It’s late. I’m tired. I don’t really feel like risking breaking my neck right now, or your mom catching me. I don’t know which is worse, honestly.”

His voice was starting to trail off in a lethargic slur before letting out a long yawn, and Dani bit back again the guilt that gnawed viciously through her chest.

“Sorry, I - “ Dani said, standing upright, shoulders rigid, “I didn’t mean to keep you. Go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asked in a sleepy murmur, “You were upset.”

“I’m fine,” Dani lied, “I’m fine now. I promise.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathed, “Night, Danielle.”

“Good night.”

There came then a long silence. Suffocatingly empty, as though all the air had been drawn from her room. She exhaled slowly, a trembling breath that rattled through her teeth. Leaving the walkie talkie on her nightstand, she crawled back into bed, curling up back into a ball with her knees to her chest and let her heavy eyes be drawn back to the photo. Clenching her teeth hard, she shut her eyes where the memories of that day pressed against her eyelids as though it were a film reel, lulling her back into a restless sleep.

—

‘Dear Jamie,

Last night I dreamt you climbed up through my window sill. You held out your hand and said to come with you, as though you were Peter Pan and I was Wendy. I remember wanting to laugh, I think. I almost expected you to be wearing that outfit and that hat, but you were just you. Smiling at me. That’s all I remember really.

I don’t think you ever knew how much that meant to me. That time you climbed up my window for real. Just to be here for me when I needed you without ever having to tell you. I think that’s one of the things I’m going to miss the most, how I never had to ask or say anything. You somehow always just seemed to know. I don’t think anyone was ever as good at it as you were. Except for Carson, maybe.

Are you okay? Is Mikey? Are you eating enough? Is it getting any easier? I can’t stop thinking about it, how tired you looked when I last saw you. I keep thinking of all our time together and how we wasted so much of it at the end. I should have visited more, maybe. I should have tried harder to talk to you, to help, no matter how upset you got with me. I’m sorry.

I wonder where you are now, where they took you and Mikey. Are you still in Iowa? Sometimes I like to imagine you on a beach somewhere, or in the mountains like you always wanted to see. I like imagining myself there with you, too. Mostly, I like to imagine you back here again.

It’s getting harder, not having you here. Mom kept saying the most terrible things after you were gone that I won’t repeat here; it’ll just raise your blood pressure. Eddie tries to help, and I love him, but he’s always been scared of mom and I don’t think he knows how to deal with something like this. With losing so much all at once. The only thing he’s ever really lost was the baseball state championship. Judy does her best though, and so does Carson, but they don’t really talk about it. They miss you a lot. They don’t need to say it, but I can see it.

I don’t know if you’ll ever get these letters. Most of the time it feels like I’m just addressing the side of my bed where you used to sleep when you stayed over. But I hope you know this isn’t some attempt being nosey, or guilt tripping you into something. All this is, is everything I can’t say out loud, all the things I couldn’t. That I still care and always will. That I’m here. That I can wait, however long it needs to be.

Do you remember when we were thirteen at the cottage, bored out of our minds because the power cut out so we decided to go run and dance in the rain? I hope the next time you stand in the rain, you think of that and think of me, just as I do you.

- Dani

—

The t-shirt didn’t smell like her anymore. Too many months of too many laundry days, and all Dani was left with now was worn fabric that felt softer than ever and a print of Debbie Harry’s face giving her a sidelong glance with the words ‘Blondie’ in blue cursive type above her head. She ran her hand over the embossed design, and without thinking Dani shucked off her shirt to toss on her bed beside a pile of fresh laundry, and slipped the Blondie t-shirt over her head.

There was little to no relief in wearing it anymore. Not when it smelled sharp and clean of florals and downy, long missing the faint smell of earth, the practical detergent Nan favored, and just plain Jamie. It was simply a t-shirt now. An article of clothing that she once borrowed and slept in. Something that had been buried, forgotten, in her rucksack until it had been too late to return. No comfort in pretending she could fall back asleep within it, no comfort in hugging a too soft pillow and imagining it was someone else. Standing now in the middle of her room and running her hand over the soft fabric, Dani knew of course that it was fruitless to pretend, to wish. Even so she couldn’t help the thought running through her head every time: it didn’t smell like her anymore.

The upended laundry basket had been tossed to one side of her room. She moved slowly, folding and setting aside laundry to be put away later. There was a distant ache travelling up the back of her neck to her head, a constant presence now along with the ache in her jaw from restless nights of grinding her teeth. As she bent low to tuck away a pile of pants into a drawer, a twinge pulsed over neck and the crown of her head. She winced, reaching up to dig her fingers into the offending muscles and nerves, gradually moving upright. Her fingers grazed against the cool metal of her necklace and she froze.

Dani stood quietly with the ache and took stock, slipping her eyes shut and clenching her fist, listening carefully to the sounds of the house. The television laughed through the thin floors. There was the distant heartbeat of the washing machine all the way in the basement on its second load. And her mother, quiet within her own company. She took careful steps towards her door, left open just a crack from when she had swung the door shut with her foot, arms laden with a laundry basket. Music travelled up through the stairwell and through the hall, a theme song jingle for some sitcom. Drawing in a steadying breath, Dani pushed herself out of her room to brave downstairs.

She dodged the floorboards that creaked and groaned predictably on deft, quiet feet. Tendrils of cigarette smoke drifted from the living room as she passed, and even now, the thickness of it still choked the back of Dani’s throat. The kitchen was a reprieve, the windows wide open to let in the late summer breeze, the floor cool beneath her bare feet, and she went about filling up the kettle and setting it on the backburner of the stove to boil.

She absently stretched and prodded at her neck as she moved throughout the kitchen, pressing against pinched nerves while digging out a tin of cookies to set some aside on a saucer for a late morning snack. Swinging open the cupboard that held all their mugs and glasses, Dani robotically pulled down her favored blue mug with scattered stars and reached further back, her hand darting about looking for a single mug in particular that kept hidden an old yet treasured altoid tin. But as she blindly probed the back of the cupboard, fingers searching for dented and scratched metal within ceramic, her brows slowly knitted when she came up empty.

Pulling her hand back, her frown deepened as she stared deep into the dark cupboard, her eyes darting over every corner. Something heavy seemed to drop and pull violently in her stomach, a tight cinch forming in her chest. Biting at her lip, Dani rose on her toes, shoving around mugs and cups, picking up and setting them aside when it wasn’t what she was looking for. A mug with floral designs, and a tin packed with precious tea, priceless hidden treasures.

Her breath was coming in fast, shallow and panicked and trapped within her chest, embers flaring within her lungs. “Mom?” she called out, her voice trembling, “Mom, where’s -?“

The kettle whistled. Dani gasped, the sound shrill and startling. She whipped around, her arm knocking into something hard, and ceramic shattered on the floor. Dani jumped back, bumping hard into the counter behind her, the corner digging painfully in her lower back. Pressing a hand to her sternum, her heart crashing against her ribs, Dani stood there wide eyed with pained shallow breaths, the kettle’s whistle shrill and loud, and at her feet, the scattered remains of her starry mug.

“Jesus Christ -!” her mother called out from the other room, “What have you done now?”

Dani was frozen, her heart a claxon in her chest, a sharp whistle ringing through her ears. Out of the corner of her eye, Karen appeared in the kitchen doorway and exhaled heavily.

“Goddamn it,” Karen said, a faint slur to her voice, carefully stepping around the disarray to pull the whistling kettle off the burner and twisting the knob with a click. “What is wrong with you? Look at this mess.”

Her mother continued on, blustering about in the kitchen, stepping around shards of ceramic, but Dani could barely hear her. The kettle was off the stove, but the ringing in her ears remained, shrill as a train whistle. Her breath shallow, her hands clenched into trembling fists at her side, she stared down the shattered remains of her mug, pieces of stars amongst a blue backdrop scattered along the floor like the big bang, hastily swept away by a frayed broom in her mothers hands. All at once, it felt as though the strained tension along her neck and scalp snapped and went taut, the necklace around her neck heavy like a noose.

Karen sighed. “Relax, Danielle,” she said, “It was just a mug.”

But it wasn’t just a mug. It was over a decade of memories. It was sharing tea with Jamie during sleepovers. It was her dad’s bright grin when she unwrapped it for her seventh birthday. Dani shook her head, a movement so small that Karen didn’t even notice, dumping the remains of her mug in the trash can.

“Mom?” Dani croaked, eyes unmoving from the floor, her eyes burning, “My tin - where’s my tin?”

Karen gave her a look of bewilderment, then rolled her eyes. “That old thing?” Karen stepped past her to replace the broom in the hallway closet. “It was an eyesore. I threw it and that old mug away. It had a crack in it.”

Nodding absently, feeling a sharp blow between her ribs, Dani bit her lips hard against the tremble of her chin, her throat growing thick. Her knees wobbled and she slowly sank to the floor, pulling her knees close to her chest with shaking hands. Sucking in a sharp, trembling breath that burned throughout her chest, Dani pressed her eyes shut and buried her face in her knees, digging her fingers into the skin of her shin, willing the floor to swallow her whole.

Footsteps returned to the kitchen and came to a sudden halt. There was a long, slow sigh. “Honestly, it was just a mug,” her mother said, exasperated, “We can get you another one.”

Dani shook her head, biting her lip hard until it hurt, until she tasted a coppery tang on her tongue. When Dani gave no further response, the kitchen drew silent and she could only imagine the frightened state of her as her mother made no other noise of moving away to leave Dani trembling on the floor.

“Danielle?” her mom murmured, soft footsteps drawing closer.

Curling further on herself, her shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around her knees, Dani turned her head away, trembling from the effort not to cry in front of her mother. There was the ruffling of clothes and movement, her mother’s form sinking down to sit beside her, the smell of smoke and her mother’s sweet morning facial cream permeating the air.

“Honey?”

Dani squeezed her eyes shut, an ache spreading across her chest, the word spoken so abnormally soft and unsure, and for one long moment, Dani could hardly process it, could hardly remember the last time her mother had spoken to her in such a way. A hand suddenly drifted over her hair, a startled, hesitant touch. Slowly, she went stiff, the room still and quiet as Dani waited for a pin to drop, for a rug to be pulled from under her, only hearing the distant breeze from the open windows, the restless tap of the sink. And then the hand stroked through the tresses of her hair, gentle in a way that made Dani’s heart ache. Swallowing thickly, she turned her head and met her mother’s eyes.

It was strange, to see the glazed glass of her mother’s blue eyes behind her glasses and not find any of the usual hardness, the aimless anger or frustration. Instead, there was faint bewilderment. Instead, there was apprehensive concern. Tears slipped down Dani’s cheeks, and haltingly, her mother’s hand reached up to swipe away one with her thumb. Dani’s eyes slipped closed at the touch, and all at once, she felt something concave within her.

“I’m sorry,” Dani whispered brokenly, feeling herself lean closer to her mom’s warmth, “Please, just -”

Her mom gradually wrapped her arms around her as though she didn’t really know what to do, but it was enough, and the ache within Dani’s chest burst open. A choked sob ripped through her, a dam of tears spilled over her cheeks, clutching her mom’s clothes as though that was the only thing tethering her together.

“All right,” her mom whispered.

Her mom held her tighter until Dani was curled into her lap, body shaking with violent sobs, feeling her mother’s hand run repeatedly over her hair. And it was all Dani could do but to hold on as she fractured into pieces on the kitchen floor.

—

The local grocery store had a new supplier; it was the talk of the town for a week. Her mother and her mother’s book club mused over the topic at length over cups of coffee and fragrant steam. They were talking about it when Dani braved the first floor of her house for a glass of water, and they were still talking about it when she returned downstairs to put on her shoes and go out to meet Eddie for a group project. Even Judy across the street had something to say, complaining about the sudden dearth of this or the wealth of that.

“I don’t see the big deal,” said Eddie without looking up from his notebook. “It’s just groceries.”

Secretly Dani agreed, but she did not say anything. They were seated at the dining table with their textbooks open to various pages. Dani had brought her bag of various colored pens and highlighters, its contents spilling across the wooden surface.

“In that case,” Judy replied, “you can come with me to the supermarket. Come on.”

He blinked up at his mother in befuddlement. “But we’re working on a school thing,” he said, gesturing to Dani sitting beside him.

“And you can work on it when you get back.” When Judy waved at him, the keys in her grasp jangled. “Let’s go. Danielle, honey, you can stay here, if you want.”

“No, I’ll come, too,” said Dani, pushing her seat back and standing.

Eddie huffed, but dutifully rose to his feet and followed his mother into the garage. The three of them piled into the sedan parked there, and Judy drove.

“Don’t see why we need to come at all,” Eddie said from the backseat.

“Maybe I need a few hands to help push a cart and carry bags,” Judy drawled, signalling before she turned down a street. “Or maybe I just want your delightful company, Edmund Kyle O’Mara.”

At the sound of his full name being used, Eddie sank a few inches in his seat and went quiet. Clearing her throat, Dani braved the silence that followed with a tentative attempt at conversation, which managed to get them all the way to the store without further incident. By the time they stepped out of the car and into the shop, Eddie had stopped his teenage sulking and was helpfully trotting off to grab a cart. He wheeled it after his mother, trailing dutifully in her wake.

The air inside the grocery store was slightly more cool than outside. It felt like a dampness on the skin. Dani shivered against it and tugged down the sleeves of the jumper she had stolen from Eddie’s closet earlier that afternoon. She cast a surreptitious eye about the place, half expecting her mother to appear from between one of the aisles and catch Dani wearing something so unflattering in public. No matter how hard Dani tried, she couldn’t shake herself of the feeling, and after a few minutes of idly perusing through the produce aisle behind Eddie and Judy, she removed the sweater and rolled it up beneath her arm instead despite the chill.

“Mom, can we get some of these?” Eddie asked, already holding up a bag of corn chips.

“Sure, honey,” Judy murmured, distracted by the list of items scrawled onto a piece of paper in her hand.

Dani peered over Judy’s shoulder at the list. “I can go get the washing powder.”

“Oh, would you? Thanks, sweetheart.”

Dropping the bundled up sweater into the cart, Dani wandered off in search of the right aisle. She turned down what she thought was the proper one, and blinked in surprise to find that nothing was in its right place anymore. For a brief moment, she thought she must have turned down the wrong aisle, and she craned her neck back to read the sign that hung from the ceiling. In the seventeen years she had lived in North Liberty, the shelves had never been rearranged. With a furrow of her brow, Dani retreated and went down the next aisle and the next again. Finally, she found what she was looking for, but no sooner had she reached the home cleaning supplies section than she froze.

Before her a wall of brightly colored cardboard boxes and plastic containers loomed. Rows upon rows. Arms wrapped around her midriff to ward off the prickle of cold, Dani’s gaze traced the lines of unfamiliar brand names in a wandering path, trying to find something, anything, that looked even remotely recognizable. But whatever brands the new supplier had stocked were so utterly unfamiliar, that Dani felt herself go stock-still.

It didn’t matter. She knew it didn’t matter. Any of these would do the trick. It was the uncertainty, the unknowing. Wanting something so mundane — just one thing, just this one thing — to be a mindless decision. And for a fleeting moment, she found herself wondering if this was what all the fuss was about, if this was what it meant. Homesickness. A longing for the return of normalcy. Just for this. Just for a moment.

“Did you find it?”

Whirling around, eyes wide, Dani found Eddie trundling the shopping cart down the aisle towards her. “What?” she asked.

He stopped, glanced at the wall of washing powders, and reached out to grab a box at random, hauling it into the cart along with the rest of the items.

“Why that one?” Dani asked, pointing.

Pausing to consider the question, Eddie shrugged. “Who cares? It’s just washing powder.” Then he turned the cart and smiled. “Come on. Mom’s this way.”

—

‘Dear Jamie,

I finally had to get rid of that scarf you gave me for Christmas. One of the ends unravelled. I borrowed Judy’s sewing machine and patched it back up, but it only delayed the inevitable.

On the plus side, I got to pick out a new one at a store in Davenport. The car ride with mom wasn’t great, but I think you’d like the scarf I picked in the end. I actually turned around, thinking mom was you standing behind me to show it to you. Don’t think I’ll make that mistake again any time soon.

Do you still have the scarf I gave you? Is it cold where you are? Hopefully not. It’s starting to get cold again here. I wish winter would go faster. The only good part about snow is that you liked it.

Still, it’s not all bad. I finally said yes to a date with Eddie.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, but be nice. It was actually kind of fun. We went to the diner and then for a walk. He gave me his gloves because I was cold and I’d left mine at home. Judy, of course, was thrilled. And mom was — well. You know how she is.

I miss you. Stay warm.

-Dani.’

—

Her mother had been snooping around in Dani’s bedroom again. Dani could tell. Dani could always tell. There was a delicate balance to every aspect of Dani’s things — the way she hung her clothes, the way she made her bed, the way she left her closet door open just so, the way she positioned a tiny slip of paper into the shut door, so that upon re-entry she could glance around and see exactly what had or had not changed.

“Just a bit of cleaning,” was Karen’s usual excuse.

Not that Dani ever confronted her about it. Not really. Simple queries like “Were you looking for something?” were not confrontation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” was the usual reply.

Or, “It’s my house, Danielle. I can go where I want.”

Or even, “No. Do I need to be looking for something?”

Though the latter was usually reserved for the days when her mother was feeling particularly distrustful. As if Dani had something to hide. As if Dani were holding a door desperately shut, while her mother rattled the handle on the other side.

Shutting the door behind her, Dani leaned her back against it and surveyed the room. Karen had been looking under her bed. The sheet had rumpled from where she precariously tucked it just that morning. Dani’s grip tightened around the plain wooden box in her hands as she took note of the minute changes, cataloguing where her mother had been snooping and inevitably come up empty-handed.

As if Dani would be so foolish as to hide something beneath her bed. Honestly.

For a moment she listened to the sounds outside her bedroom, but there was nothing concerning. Her mother was still downstairs watching television after a day’s work. How she even found the time to go snooping was a mystery in and of itself.

With a sigh, Dani stepped towards her closet door. Pushing it open, she dropped down to her knees and reached behind a conveniently located half chest of drawers. A press of her fingers in just the right place, and the false panel popped open. She set it aside, then reached in to pull out the crawlspace’s contents one at a time.

An old band t-shirt.

A book.

A Zippo lighter.

A necklace.

A stack of photographs bound by a rubber band.

A cassette tape.

Dani sat, cross-legged, on the floor of her closet, surrounded by a fanning array of items as though at the center of a summoning circle. The box she held in her lap. It was plain and wooden with a bronze latch. The plainer the better. Less likely to arouse suspicion, should it be exhumed.

She hesitated to touch the t-shirt, her fingertips grazing the edge of the fabric as though afraid it would disintegrate at the slightest provocation. Her hand moved to the photographs. She peeled back the rubber band and flipped through the glossy pages. At some point in time, she had labelled the backs of each one.

Here was Jamie in 1976 at an Oaks game with Eddie, eating a hotdog and looking bored while Eddie cheered in the background. Here was Jamie laughing and reaching out towards the camera so that she was blurred with motion. Here was Jamie just a little over a year ago passed out on the couch, while Mikey was fast asleep on her stomach. Here was Jamie. Here was Jamie. Here was –

Nausea coiled faintly in Dani’s stomach. Abruptly, she wrenched open the box’s lid and began to shove all the items inside. It took a bit of furtive rearranging for everything to fit, and then her trembling thumb was pressing the latch shut with a final and resounding click. Her breath was coming fast and sharp. Dani had to close her eyes and steady herself, the feeling of the box beneath her hands, squeezing it shut as though afraid its contents might batter against the lid, yowling to be set free.

Movements quick and furtive, Dani shoved the box behind the false panel in her closet. And sometimes at night, she swore she could hear it clawing against the wall.

—

‘Dear Jamie,

Have you ever felt like you were walking towards something you should be running away from? Everything feels like it’s moving so fast. Homework keeps piling up. Mom won’t stop breathing down my neck about my grades and college. Eddie asked me on another date. I feel like I’ve had a headache everyday just this week alone, and nothing I’m doing to stop it has helped.

I know it’s impossible, I know I need to stop thinking about it, but I wish you were here. You were always good at slowing things down and helping me relax. Whether we were sneaking out at night to the movies, or just sitting quietly together in either of our rooms.

I don’t remember the last time I was ever that relaxed. All I can do is smile and pretend that everything is okay. And honestly, I’ll tell you a little secret: sometimes I believe it myself. Sometimes I find myself laughing at something and wondering where it came from. Like all the doors to the rooms within me were slammed shut, and the only one cracked open was this mask I don’t recognize. Has that ever happened to you?

I’m sorry, I should really stop dumping all this on you.

In happier news, I have a small job lined up this summer! I’ll be babysitting the Newman's five and eight year olds. They even have a small dog with curly brown hair just like yours. His name is Jax, and he’s very cute. It’s not a lot of money, but it’s something to keep my hands busy after school’s over. Didn’t Nan say something about that once? Something about moral fiber and idle hands? Anyways, it’s something, and certainly better than sitting around doing nothing.

I hope you’re well. I hope you’re happy. Miss you.

- Dani

—

The school entrance was nothing short of spectacularly adorned of ribbons, balloons, and a banner that read: Homecoming. Groups of students dressed in fancy attire loitered at the front while slowly streaming inside. In the passenger’s seat of one of the O’Mara’s cars, Dani hid her clenched fists in the folds of her pale pink dress and worried at her lower lip as she watched through the windshield. A hand reached out to lightly grasp her fist.

“Hey,” Eddie said, gently unclasping her clenched hand to hold over the console, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dani rushed out, aiming a weak grin at Eddie, “Of course. Just - nervous I guess.”

He gave her a kind smile. “It’s okay. Me too, honestly,” he said, and chuckled lightly, pushing his glasses up his nose in a way he usually did when he was nervous. “Kind of feels like we’re sitting in a fishbowl already.”

Dani breathed out an awkward chuckle in lieu of responding, nerves straining beneath her skin.

“But hey,” Eddie continued, lightly shaking her hand and ducking his head to get a better look at her face in the lowlight of the car, “I’m really happy you decided to come with me.”

“Me too,” Dani murmured, not meeting his eyes.

And it wasn’t untrue for the most part. It only just took her the long, winding road to get there. Days and weeks of Eddie asking with hopeful eyes and a gentle tone, only to end with a disappointed nod of his head whenever she had told him no or given an indecisive answer. It was too early to decide. She wasn’t in the mood. She was too busy. But finally, he had worn her down with the promise of all the ice cream she could want, and a night away from home.

In the car now, his eyes shone brightly from the distant light of the school entrance, his grin gentle and fond. “I know - I know it’s been hard lately. With everything,” he started hesitantly, his thumb running over her knuckles, “But let’s try to have fun. I really want to give you a night where you didn’t have to think about anything. Not school, or your mom, or - “ he paused, and smiled weakly, his eyes ducking briefly, the jaw of his muscle jumping “ - or anything else. Just us, having fun.”

Drawing in a low breath, Dani nodded, braving a faint smile. “And remember,” Eddie said, “We can bail any time if we’re not having fun. Get some ice cream, find a party to crash.”

Dani chuckled and Eddie grinned broadly, boyishly sweet and handsome in his blue suit. “Okay,” Dani murmured, and exhaled. “Okay. I’m ready.”

It was easy, letting Eddie jump out and round the car to open the door for her with his hand held out. Easy to slip her hand back into his and let him lead her into the school. Easy to let him murmur in her ear how pretty he thought she looked. She plastered on a soft smile in the hopes of coming across as shy at the compliment instead of how abnormally strange it felt hearing those words come from him after all this time. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard him compliment her before, but they were becoming more regular by the day along with those long, captivated smiles, and all Dani could do was tuck the uneasiness away and push it aside.

Instead, she let herself take in the school as they entered, to greet her friends and schoolmates with waves and bright smiles and hugs. To let her eyes scan over the gymnasium when they finally entered, decorated in a bare fairy tale theme. String lights strewn along the walls and above their heads, fake flowers and plants stuck to the walls and placed as centerpieces on circular tables. It was pretty but simple, for all the school budget had to spare, but no one seemed to care. With pop music blaring from the rented stereo system, there was already a plethora of students on the dancefloor and lingering beside a long table of drinks and snacks.

Eddie nudged Dani lightly and bent low for her to hear him say, “How much do you wanna bet that someone spiked the punch already?”

Dani laughed and shook her head. “I don’t need to bet,” she said, and nodded towards the table, “Look.”

Following her line of sight, they both looked to find none other than Sterling sneaking furtive glances around for any nearby teachers or chaperons before carefully pouring in a healthy amount of white liquor from a flask.

Eddie laughed and gave her a grin. “You want some?”

Immediately, Dani’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. “Um - maybe later?”

Eddie shrugged. “Sure,” he said, and tugged gently at her hand, “Ready then?”

Taking another long scan around the room, Dani finally nodded and let Eddie pull her deeper into the crowded room.

There was something to be said with mixing spiked punch, loud music that hammered against your chest, and a crowd of teenagers in one room. The razor facades in school hallways and lunch cliques fading away to awkward but zealous dancing, tears and arguments in gymnasium corners and bathrooms, cheap blue lights that shone above and reflected off of tinsel and sequins. And even as she felt eyes on them throughout the night, even as Eddie smiled broad and proud as her friends complimented how cute they looked together, the facade Dani had painted on remained and she managed to tuck it all away, determined to have fun for the first time in months. Lingering on the outskirts of the dancefloor with Eddie, laughing at his commentary and sharing the occasional dance with him or a cluster of her friends when she felt brave enough.

She had even let herself share a dance with Roger. Eddie had let them go with a good natured roll of his eyes and broad grin. She hadn’t spoken to Roger much recently, not since long before the summer holidays when Nan’s anniversary had come around, but he was still as friendly as ever while they conversed and danced slowly at a respectable distance. But when his smile slowly faltered, a look of somber hesitance crossing his face, Dani felt her heart sink.

“Listen, um - “ Roger started, “I didn’t get the chance to tell you before. Didn’t know when was a good time really, but I just wanted to say sorry. Y’know, about Jamie - “

“It’s fine,” Dani interrupted quickly, just a little sharply. He blinked and slowly nodded, ducking his head, and Dani said again more softly, “It’s fine.”

Roger nodded again and offered her a faint smile, and that was that. They finished their dance and Roger let her quietly slip away with a thanks and apology. She aimed a weak smile at him and went in search of Eddie. When she found him, he was sipping deeply from a red cup by the table and brightened when he spotted her.

“Want one now?”

Fixing her eyes on the bowl of punch, Dani gritted her teeth through a thin smile and nodded. And just as she had expected, the taste was similar to a sweet, pungent acid that burned on the way down. Eddie laughed when she twisted her face, but gamely she took another long sip.

“Careful,” Eddie chuckled, “Don’t want to end up like Kyle, do you?” He jerked his head towards a form slumped over on a table.

“Oh,” Dani said, wincing, “I hope he’s okay.” But when Kyle was roughly jostled awake by a friend and staggered to his feet to be dragged away somewhere, she breathed out a laugh and shook her head.

“Seems fine to me,” Eddie said, and when a fun disco song transitioned to a slow ballad, a look of shy eagerness overtook him. He drew in a slow breath and nudged the back of her hand with his. “Hey - do you want to dance again?”

Dani hesitated. She had been expecting this question all night, but still was not prepared for the way her heart hammered abruptly against her ribs. Swallowing thickly at Eddie’s hopeful eyes, his glasses reflecting bright fairy lights as though they were stars, Dani slowly nodded with a faint smile.

Eddie blinked in surprise. “Really?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Dani lied, feeling her stomach sour, but a broad smile bloomed on Eddie’s face, brightening his features, and she couldn’t help but feel her heart soften at the sight of it.

Without a word, he took her hand and guided her onto the dance floor, wedging them through couples with their arms around each other, slow dancing. Dani kept her head low, focused on the path they took rather than the room encompassing them, the unnerving sense of eyes watching them returning, settling over her like cold water.

All their dances so far had been set to upbeat music, spinning each other around and competing on who knew the most popular dance moves, instigated by Eddie in an effort to make her laugh. She had been grateful, but with every slow song that came and went, she could feel Eddie’s shoulders bunch beside her as he gave her careful sidelong glances when he thought she wasn’t looking.

But Dani was always looking, waiting and anticipating every look or touch of the hand, never having the heart to turn him away, and worse, not knowing why. And this was no different. This was Eddie putting his hands around her waist, this was Eddie giving her a nervous grin as she placed her hands on his shoulders, this was the slow sway they easily fell into, the sound of the ballad pressing on Dani’s eardrums.

There was a look of faint wonder on Eddie’s face as they danced, as though he had never expected them to end up here when the night began. There was an intensity to it that Dani wondered maybe if this was the part where she was supposed to feel the same way in return, that giddy, lovestruck feeling that all the other girls talked about regarding the boys they liked. As she let her eyes drift across his face, breathing in his fresh and sharp cologne, he was still the same Eddie. Still the same boy who spent most of his time with his nose stuck in a book or rehearsing for a Model UN debate, whose sweaters she stole and whose hugs felt warm and safe. There was a strange sense of both disappointment and relief within her, and in an effort to not think about why, she stepped closer to press against his chest to feel that same comforting warmth.

As she wrapped her arms fuller around him, she felt more than heard him chuckle, a hand moving to smooth up and down her back.

“Having fun?” he murmured. Dani nodded against the stiff fabric of his suit, humming affirmatively in response. “I’m glad,” he continued softly, “That was all I wanted.”

Without warning, her throat grew thick and she bit her tongue to quell the feeling, exhaling slowly when she managed to push it away. “Thank you,” Dani murmured, her eyes slipping closed, listening to the rapid thumps of his heart, “I think I really needed this.”

“Any time,” Eddie said, “God knows I needed it too. Have I told you yet how glad I am you agreed to come with me?”

Dani chuckled. “Once or twice,” she said, “But feel free to mention it again if you have to.”

But Eddie didn’t, remaining silent as they continued to sway. It only took her a moment to realize why, feeling his shoulders tense and his chest gradually expand as he drew in what seemed to be a fortifying deep breath. Her eyes flickered open, her breath caught in anticipation.

“Danielle?” Eddie started, carefully soft.

“Yeah?” she whispered, a pool of trepidation whirling in her stomach.

“Can I kiss you?”

For all the nerves she felt beneath her skin, for the way her heart crashed against her chest, there was a distinct lack of surprise ringing through her. Dani had been expecting this, she had heard of all the ways the other girls expected and hoped their own nights to go with their dates, she just hadn’t been expecting it so soon. This was always supposed to happen, wasn’t it, Dani thought as she slowly pulled back to meet Eddie’s eyes, wide with hopeful anxiety.

She could say no, she could gently let him down, tell him she wasn’t ready yet, that she may never be. And he’d understand, he’d nod and duck his head unable to hide his somber disappointment. She could keep telling him no until he finally gave up, until he was unable to look her in the eyes anymore, until he was asking for space and neglected to call her back or invite her over for dinner. Until he slipped away like sunlight between her trembling fingers, taking Judy and Carson and the rest of the family with him until all Dani was left with was a cold house that wanted to eat her whole, and her mother, both a ghost and puppeteer in equal measure.

Dani’s heart was racing, she realized. Panicked thoughts rushing through her mind at lightspeed, a future that felt like a long dark tunnel with no end in sight. She exhaled slowly and met Eddie’s gaze, waiting with increasingly nervous eyes. Offering him a weak smile, she reached up to push his glasses up his nose and cup his cheek, feeling a faint stubble beneath her palm, and finally, she nodded.

He blinked, a slow look of deep affection bloomed over him, his eyes drifting down to her mouth. “You sure?” he mumbled.

When she nodded wordlessly again, not trusting to speak, Eddie smiled wide and slowly bent down to capture her lips with his. It was soft and chaste, just as it had been all that time ago at a house party, and Dani found it to be almost pleasant for all the stirring emotion she didn’t feel. He made a soft, happy sound and his hands pressed her incriminantly closer before he finally pulled away, dazed and enamored.

“Wow,” he murmured under his breath.

This is the part, Dani told herself, where you kiss him again.

Confetti was suddenly drifting around them, sparkling gold and silver, and a thrilled clamor passed over the room. They both peered around and found confetti cannons on stage erupting with more glittering paper, and Eddie laughed.

“Perfect timing,” he said, his cheeks pink, his eyes bright and happy.

Dani chuckled in lieu of not knowing what to say, ducking her eyes and easing back into his chest, but then the song changed, transitioning into something softer. Familiar soft harmonies interspersed with sparse instruments. Recognition gradually fell upon her like a slow crashing wave, like the glittering confetti drifting over her. Dani sucked in a low breath and froze, her eyes going wide and her mouth slowly dropping open. The song reverberated around the room and pressed against her chest, squeezing tight like a band until it was hard to breath.

“Danielle?” Eddie said, feeling the sudden tension in her shoulders, bewildered and concerned, “You okay?”

“Um - “ Dani croaked, a tremble in her voice, easing out of his arms and unable to look him in the eyes, “I just - can you give me a moment? I need to go to the bathroom.”

She slowly backed away, and out of the corner of her eyes she could see him frowning. He called out her name again, but Dani didn’t deign to respond. Her jaw taut and her fists clenched, Dani pushed her way through the crowd at a brisk pace with quick shallow breaths, the song ringing in her ears like a train whistle. She pushed and pushed until she was surging out of the gym and into the hallway, the door clanging open. It was quieter in the hallway, the music muffled now through the doors, but it wasn’t enough.

There were other classmates loitering around in small groups in the hall, some glancing her way at the sudden noise of her appearance but didn’t linger long. Steeling herself, a desperate thrum beneath her skin that felt like she was being clawed inside out, Dani moved past them further down the hall, her feet heavy like lead, her head ducked with her eyes glued to the ground until she arrived finally to the girls bathroom at the end of the wing. She pushed open the door and let it creak closed behind her.

A pressure swelled within her in the quiet of the bathroom, bursting from her chest in sharp, quickening breaths now that she was alone. Embers bloomed from her lungs with every sharp inhale, her head spinning so that she stumbled forward to grip the damp countertop with white knuckles, the edge digging into her palms as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Fuck,” she whispered in between gasping breaths, her voice cracking from the strain, feeling as though she were drowning on molten lava, burning a path through her chest.

She pressed a palm to her sternum, sucking in lungfuls of air, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress, and focused to slow her breath, to swallow down the panic swelling within her throat. An inhale, and an exhale, trembling but slow, again and again until she could finally hear past the rush of blood in her ears and feel the walls expand again from where they were pressing on her. And just as resigned herself that the burn in her lungs would remain until she retrieved her inhaler from the car, a door behind her slowly creaked open.

Dani sucked in a sharp breath, eyes snapping open as she jerked upright, frozen to the spot. Immediately, a heavy stone of dread and embarrassment sank in her stomach when through the mirror, Jackie emerged from a stall, dressed to the nines in a sparkling periwinkle dress with her hair perfectly coiffed and feathered. Their eyes briefly met, and Dani promptly ducked her head, hastily wiping at her burning cheeks, her shoulders hunching.

The clack of heels sounded behind her in the uneasy quiet, moving closer until Jackie was a few sinks down from her, eerily silent as she twisted open the faucet to wash her hands. Dani swallowed thickly, her jaw clenched and her breath caught in anticipation, her heart a claxon in her chest. Waiting for the usual taunting jeer, for a cruel laugh that never came. Instead, there was a silence between them that Dani was unused to, leaving her feeling as though she was teetering over the edge of a great capricious cliff, waiting for a hand to push her off.

Hesitantly, Dani’s eyes slowly drifted up towards their reflections. There was Dani, haggard and hollow-eyed with red stained cheeks. And there was Jackie, slowly meeting her gaze with an expression that was both faintly uncomfortable and tentative. Jackie promptly looked away. Rooted to the spot, Dani watched out of the corner of her eyes as Jackie turned off the faucet to dry her hands with paper towels, and without a word, without another glance back, swung open the bathroom door to make a swift exit. Blinking in the silence, utterly perplexed and exhausted, Dani’s eyes slipped shut and her shoulders slumped with a slow exhale.

She stood there for a few minutes longer, leaning heavily against the counter. Washing her hands with cold water, letting it run long over her fingers and wrists. Splashing cool droplets over her cheeks and neck to cool the burn. Stood there until some semblance of control smoothed over her, until reality shifted back from it’s prism of panic.

Exhaling slowly, she made to finally exit the bathroom, but when she swung open the door, she paused when she was greeted with Eddie leaning against the opposite wall with his hands deep in his pockets, his brow furrowed with worry. When he spotted her, his eyes lit up with concern and he stood upright.

“Hey,” he murmured, taking a step towards her, his eyes scanning over her, “Are you okay? You look -“

“It’s -” Dani started, stumbling over the words as she neared him, “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” he said, “You got out of there so fast, and now you look exhausted. And then Jackie told me where you were, which was weird. Wait - did she say something to you? What happened?”

Dani was shaking his head before he even stopped speaking. “It’s - it was nothing. Just - “ the words lodged themselves in the back of her throat. “Can we - um,” Dani said in a whisper, staring resolutely at his tie and not his eyes, “Can we get some air?”

Eddie was already nodding. “Yeah, sure,” he said, “Whatever you want.”

He led her down the hall towards the front doors, and Dani followed wordlessly, easily falling into step with him, almost unseeing, her eyes glued to the floor. It was easy to let him guide her, almost a relief that she didn’t have to focus more beyond putting one foot in front of another, to breathe in the cool evening air when they finally stepped outside. They walked for a few minutes longer, and without even realizing it, Dani found herself being guided to sit down on the first row of bleachers of the school stadium.

Exhaling a slow breath that rattled in her chest, the embers there a dying glow, she wrapped her arms around herself and hunched within her shoulders. A warm suit jacket was strewn over her shoulders, and she shot Eddie an appreciative smile when he sank to sit beside her. He grinned softly and took her hand once again.

“How’s this?” he asked softly.

“Better,” Dani murmured, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Eddie said, and visibly hesitated. “You want to tell me what happened now?”

Dani clenched her teeth, letting her eyes scan over the darkened field, tracing over the red track, and felt a dim ache in her chest. Her eyes glazing over, her thumb drifted towards her mouth and she bit down hard into the skin and nail until there was the faint taste of copper in her mouth.

“Hey - Danielle. Hey -!” Eddie grabbed her hand and pulled it gently from her mouth to hold in a tight grasp, looking stricken.

“Sorry,” Dani croaked, and cleared her throat, “Sorry.”

Eddie shook his head, looking at a loss for words, eyes darting over the field for a moment before meeting her gaze. “No, I’m - I’m sorry,” he said, contrite, “I should have taken you to the car instead.”

Nodding faintly, Dani ducked her head. “Sorry I ruined tonight.”

Shaking his head, Eddie shifted closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You didn’t,” he murmured, “Just means we can go get ice cream now.”

Breathing out a weak chuckle, Dani faintly said, “Yeah. Sounds nice, actually.”

Eddie pulled her closer, his hand rubbing a warm path over her shoulder and arm, audibly swallowed hard, and finally said, “I miss her, too.”

—

‘Dear Jamie,

I visited Nan today. I brought a bouquet of her favorite flowers and cleaned up her gravestone. I hope that’s all right, that I went to see her. I don’t visit as often as I used to, or talk to her as much anymore. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been rolling her eyes at how much I talk, but I think she secretly enjoys the company. I went to see my dad too. I don’t really remember the last time I visited him, just that mom got upset when she found out and didn’t talk to me for a few days. I haven’t been since until today. It was nice, I told him all about you. I think you two would have gotten along.

I went to see the house again too. Sometimes I just find myself there without realizing it, driving or walking past, and I’ve done so enough that it doesn’t feel as shocking anymore to see how it’s decayed. The broken and boarded windows, and the overgrown grass. Nan would catch a fit if she saw what happened to it. It’s not pretty inside either. Everything is gone. The wallpaper and paint are peeling and there’s debris everywhere that I could almost hear Nan yelling at us to clean up. The backyard is just as bad as you can imagine. Your bike is still there, but the tire swing is gone. All that’s left is the rope hanging from the tree, just waiting for an accident to happen.

When I was walking through the old bedrooms when I had the sudden thought: I could live here. Now, look, I know it sounds crazy but it wouldn’t be too hard. Just a bit of elbow grease and a little money for repairs and new furniture. I could live here all alone and no one would ever find me. I’d have my white curtains and blue shutters. A reading nook in the corner with an armchair like Nan’s. A garden of fresh fruits and vegetables in the back. Rooms that smelled of flowers and fresh laundry. My own little corner of the world like I once told you about. But I guess it was just a dream.

I suppose I just wanted to see it for myself. It’s been a while now since you left, and for so long I hoped to see you again, but seeing the house like that, discarded and forgotten like a carcass in the woods, I think I understand now. There is no going back. Even when I wake up every night and I want to call you to tell you everything and that I can’t sleep, I remember.

Sometimes I feel like I miss you more than I remember you, and I don’t know what to do with that, or where to put it all. So, I suppose I have to leave it here. At the cottage and in this letter.

Speaking of letters, I got my college acceptance letters today. It’s not what you had hoped for me probably, not the freedom we had both once imagined, but I like to think you might be proud of me at least. It’s a step towards something, towards teaching like I’ve always wanted, and that has to count for something, right?

I hope you know I’m proud of you too, wherever you are and whatever you might be doing.

- Dani

—

The party was far too reminiscent of one she had attended years ago. She had not attended many since, preferring to mingle outside of student housing and on the steps of the library. Not unless corralled by etiquette – de rigeur to a fault.

Dani hunched her shoulders and squeezed herself tighter into the corner as someone passed by without so much as a glance in her direction. “Sorry,” she mumbled and clutched her red plastic cup to her chest.

From this vantage point, Dani could see the entirety of the living room, the open back door leading to the lawn, the pillars framing the entrance to the kitchen. A strange house full of strange people. People draped across the couches, people perched upon the armrests of chairs, people grouped up in packs, people talking loudly over the music, people circulating drinks and no food, people stripping off their shirts and lowering themselves into the outdoor jacuzzi beneath a night-darkened sky.

Taking a sip of her drink – hard alcohol mixed with whatever canned pop was stashed in the fridge – Dani scanned the crowd for any sign of the girl who had invited her in the first place. The girl who sat beside her in class. The girl who invited Dani and who only ever referred to Eddie as ‘the boyfriend.’ The girl with dark hair and dark skin and dark eyes, who took every opportunity to lean in close and whisper jokes in Dani’s ear during lectures, who had grasped Dani’s hand warmly upon first meeting and introduced herself as Lila.

It took Dani a moment to find her. There were so many people bunched about. At one point she thought she saw Eddie outside, conversing with a group of students from the engineering department. His glasses gleamed as he laughed. Knowing he was near enough to reach in a moment was enough. Idly Dani glanced towards the far corner, nearest the unlit fireplace, and froze.

Lila stood in the corner in full view of the rest of the house, very clearly kissing another girl from their year group. Nobody seemed to care or even notice. Nobody except Dani, who stared at the slant of their mouths together, at the grasp of Lila’s hand at the other girl’s waist, at the ease and obvious delight with which they kissed — sloppy yet smiling.

Dani heard more than felt the plastic cup in her hand crumple slightly, and the contents of her cup were abruptly squeezed out, overflowing onto her wrist and the front of her blouse. Swearing under her breath, Dani set the plastic cup down on a side table already cluttered with absent drinks and cans of cheap beer. She shook out her hand and looked down at her blouse. It wasn’t stained, but a splotch of the pale material was now nearly transparent, showing the outline of Dani’s bra beneath.

With a sigh, she squeezed her way past a few people, apologising as she went, until she made it to an uncrowded hallway. There, she peered into an open door, discovered that the room was indeed the bathroom, and slipped inside, shutting the door behind her.

She was standing before the sink and reaching for a wash towel when she saw him. A dark and faceless figure in the mirror, looming over her reflection’s shoulder like a shade. Eyes wide, Dani whirled around with a gasp, brandishing the hand towel as though it were a weapon.

The towel knocked the apparition sideways. It was, she realised, made of cardboard. A life sized cut out figure of Michael Myers. A prank, perhaps. A vestigial decoration from a recent Halloween party, more likely.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered to herself.

Heart still pounding in her chest, Dani shook her head and turned back around. She dabbed at her blouse to very little effect, before resigning herself to the fact that she could do nothing but wait for it to dry.

Voices outside the door. Then the tramp of footsteps receding down the hallway. There was a knock, and Dani called out, “Just a minute!”

Checking her reflection one last time in the mirror — and casting a glare at the cardboard cut out for good measure — Dani opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway. The empty hallway. She shut the bathroom door behind her with a click, frowning down the hall towards the main room and the party.

“Having fun?”

Dani jerked around to find Lila leaning against the wall and smiling. “Oh! Hi! Yeah, I – uh –” Dani made a small gesture towards the hallway at large. “I like your house.”

“Thanks. I rent it with, like, six other people.”

“That’s a lot.”

Lila shrugged. “Still better than the dormitories. More privacy.”

“With six other people?”

“Maybe less privacy,” Lila amended with a grin. “More freedom, though.”

“Sounds nice,” Dani agreed. “Which room is yours?”

It was meant to be an innocent question, but the moment it slipped out Dani winced. Lila’s grin broadened and her eyes flicked down to the see-through mark on Dani’s shirt.

“I just meant –” Dani stammered.

“Yeah?”

“It’s – It’s a big house. Easy to get lost in."

Lila nodded. “It is.” Then she pointed down the hallway, further away from the living room. “Mine’s that one on the right. I would invite you in, but it’s a mess right now.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” said Dani, then went bright red. Perhaps one of those boys in the kitchen had poured more rum into her cup than she’d originally thought.

Biting back a snort of laughter, Lila shook her head. “You really do make this too easy.”

Dani grimaced. “Sorry.”

“That’s all right. I thought you were straight? Didn’t you come here with the boyfriend?”

Dani’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. Finally she managed to swallow past the pressure at her throat, and said, “I did. I mean – I am. He’s – around. Somewhere. I think.”

Lila nodded sagely. “Mmm. Yes. Very convincing.”

“That’s –” Dani clamped her teeth shut and cast a furtive look down each end of the hallway, but nobody was coming towards them. Nobody seemed to be eavesdropping. “Did you need something?”

Lila’s eyebrows rose. She cocked her head, still smiling faintly. “Yeah,” she said, taking a step closer. “Actually, I do.”

“Oh?” Dani could feel herself tense, her hands clenching into fists at her side. The air was too warm, cloying, and Lila’s eyes were keen as darts.

Lila reached out and for a brief breathless moment Dani thought she was going to touch her – grasp her gently by the arm, cup her cheek, take her chin between clever fingers and guide Dani by the jaw – only for Lila to turn the doorknob just behind Dani.

“I need to pee,” said Lila. “And you’re standing right in front of the bathroom.”

An unexpected burst of laughter escaped Dani then. She leaned back against the shut door, lifting a hand to cover her face, laughing into her palm. Lila grinned at her as Dani slipped out of the way with a series of breathless apologies.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lila told her, giving Dani a wave even as she shut the bathroom door. “See you in class!”

“Yeah,” Dani waved back and ducked her head, relieved to be heading back down the hall in search of Eddie.

It wasn’t that Lila wasn’t nice. Because she was. And it wasn’t that people at the party weren’t nice. Because they were. A few tried to engage her in conversation while she crossed the main room to get to the back door. She was just tired, Dani told herself. She wanted to go home.

It had nothing to do with the thrill skittering beneath her ribs. Nothing at all to do with the fact that Dani had no idea what she would have done if Lila had made some sort of advance. Balked? Probably not. Accepted? Surely not.

Surely not.

That wasn’t her. Dani wasn’t that person.

“Hey,” Eddie greeted her with a smile when she found him still engaged in conversation with a group out back. “How’s it going?”

Dani wrapped a hand around his arm. “Fine. Can we go? Sorry. I know it’s early.”

“That’s all right,” one of the other guys said — she didn’t know any of their names. He winked at Eddie and patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll catch up next week, yeah?”

Eddie’s answering chuckle sounded slightly nervous and he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Sure,” then he said to Dani, “Come on. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

—

Sex with Eddie wasn't his idea. Only that it was something Dani thought they ought to do. Because it was a step forward, and any step forward was better than looking back.

She wanted to want it. She wanted to think of him and not the way Lila smiled at her in class. The way the cute and curvy barista always brushed their fingers together when she handed over Dani's cup of coffee. The way the older librarian always wore her soft blouse with a button undone so that Dani's eyes could trace her collarbone. The way a female classmate squeezed by her in a tightly crowded hallway with a brief press of her hand to the small of Dani's back.

Most of all she didn't want to be left alone with her thoughts about the dream. About going to her dorm after the party, kissing Eddie good night, only to fall asleep and wake up clutching a spare pillow, knees clenched together. Still haunted by a dream where a faceless figure explored her body with a soft mouth, a roving tongue and sharp teeth. And how she had tried to relieve the slick heat between her legs with her own hands, only to give up after ten minutes of frustration, unable to conjure up a face, unable to feel any sense of connection to herself enough to finish alone. Physicality seemed to jolt her back to herself, away from the jumbled fantasy that existed in the dark and nowhere else, making her feel less real, less tangible.

Sex with Eddie was easier than she had expected. And exactly as awkward as she had expected.

It took a grand total of fifteen minutes. Afterwards, Eddie rolled onto his side and tucked his head into the crook of Dani’s shoulder with a sigh, an arm still flung across her waist. They had a few more hours until her roommate returned to the dorm. She remained there, carding a hand through his dark hair and staring up at the ceiling, while Eddie sketched little patterns with his fingertips against her skin.

Sex with Eddie was uninspired. It was lackluster. And it was — Dani thought wonderingly to herself, thinking of all the girls she’d heard discussing the deed with giggling delight — ultimately disappointing.

She felt him press a kiss to her shoulder, and she blinked down at him.

“That was nice,” he mumbled.

Dani hummed a wordless reply rather than say something in return.

—

'Dear Jamie,

You’d be proud of me. I went to a party. All on my own, no less. Well, not alone. Eddie came, too. But I was the one who secured the invitation, and I think that counts for something.

I had the strangest dream afterwards, though. I don’t think alcohol agrees with me much. Must be a family trait.

I wish you’d been there. At the party, I mean. The whole time I was there, all I could think about was how well you’d get along with everyone. How much more fun it would be with you. I miss you.

All my love,

- Dani

—

It was his face afterwards that had stuck with her. Contorting between bafflement and hurt, fidgeting on his knee after Dani had pulled the rug from right beneath him.

“What do you mean: no?” Eddie had said slowly, as though he was still parsing out the words in his head.

“We’re - Eddie, we’re still so young, and - can you stand up, please? The snow is melting into your pants,” Dani said, pulling at her fingers, fighting the urge to run in the opposite direction.

“I just - “ Eddie started, glancing wordlessly around the quiet park where they stood before finally rising to his feet. Without meeting her eyes, he finally murmured, his breath a white mist, “I thought this was what you wanted, too.”

Words lodged themselves in Dani’s throat, confessions building like bile. Things she had never truly taken into consideration before, but couldn’t possibly say. Not on Christmas morning on an impromptu walk in the park at Eddie’s eager insistence, intent on blindsiding her with an unplanned proposal. He had never looked so serious before, lacking the teasing glint he had worn in his eyes the dozens of times he’d asked before in the past years. Utterly earnest with the way he dropped to his knee with the admission he had no ring, but knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

But then she had said it: ‘No.’ The word seeming to come out of nowhere, banging on her ribs to be let out until she was speaking it before she could stop herself. And then there it was, his face. Blinking up at her as though he was seeing her for the first time.

“I’m sorry,” Dani said, her fingers twitching to grasp his hand, quietly urging him to look at her, “I’m just - I don’t think I’m ready yet. It’s too soon.”

A muscle jumping in his jaw, Eddie nodded and gradually met her gaze. “But one day?” he asked quietly, hope glinting in his eyes.

It sounded like a promise. One she’d have no say in the matter, or opportunity to change her mind. A contract of infinite fine lines. Dani exhaled, the morning air cold and sharp against her cheeks and nose, shifting on her feet in the snow.

Already tired and the day had barely begun, Dani finally relented. “Yeah,” Dani breathed, smiling weakly, “One day. Just - not now, okay?”

The morning sun cast sharply against the snow, leaving long angled shadows from the trees and their figures, the light glinting off of Eddie’s glasses when ducked his head briefly and nodded.

“Okay,” he murmured, offering her a brave smile that was more frail and still disappointed than anything. But then, the teasing glimmer was back, the corner of his mouth lifting in a knowing smirk. “It was the ring, wasn’t it? Because I didn’t have one and you want a nice big shiny ring?”

Dani blinked at him and then rolled her eyes hard, thwacking him lightly on the arm. He laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder for a loose hug. Dani let him, slipping her arms around his waist and squeezing her eyes shut as she pressed into his chest, the part of her relieved to hear him laugh again suffocating under the guilt clutching at her heart in a fist.

“Come on,” Dani said, lightly clearing her throat and pulling away to lead him back towards the house, “Before everyone starts to wonder if we ran away.”

“Wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Eddie said, waggling his eyebrows, slipping his hand into hers.

Dani huffed, and said, “Sure, until my mom calls the police for your head on a spike.”

Eddie blanched, as pale as snow. “Never mind.”

Snickering, Dani shook her head and led him back home. There had been an easiness to him on the way back, his cheeks pink from the cold, chuckling when his glasses immediately fogged when they stepped inside the house. But that had been then, and the hours slipped by with presents shared and lunch had, the easiness giving way to the return of quiet disappointment and dejection the longer they were subjected to the company of Tommy’s newest girlfriend and David’s fiancée. Eddie’s eyes dimming by the hour with forced smiles and hushed conversations in corners with Judy or Mike.

She inadvertently came across one by accident. Wandering into the kitchen in search of something to snack on to channel the nerves bubbling beneath her skin after escaping small talk and awkward smiles with Tommy’s girlfriend. Eddie with his head ducked and Judy murmuring softly to him. She froze when they spotted her, her shoulders tensing as they both gave her similar warm smiles that betrayed nothing of the conversation they were having.

“Sorry - um,” Dani said, eyes darting between them, “Did I interrupt something?”

“Of course not, honey,” Judy said, waving her off and returning to her task of putting together a platter of cookies, “Are you hungry again? Do you want me to heat up some leftovers for you?”

The question almost flew over Dani’s head, instead carefully watching Eddie quietly clear his throat before delving into the fridge for a drink. “No,” Dani said after a moment too long and plastered on a small smile at Judy, “I’m fine.”

Fine was one way of putting it, a dim sense of dread washing over her as Eddie merely offered her a kiss on the head and a crooked grin that didn’t reach his eyes when he slipped by, leaving the pair alone in the kitchen without a word. Her fists clenched, she watched his tall frame disappear around the corner.

There was a sigh behind her. “You kids grew up too fast if you ask me.”

Dani choked out a laugh. “Just a little bit,” she replied, biting her lip and folding her arms across her chest.

The kitchen remained silent for a moment, until Judy said, “Sweetheart, are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you?”

There was a faint eagerness to Judy’s tone that Dani had no idea what to do with. Shaking her head faintly, she turned to be met with Judy’s kind but concerned expression. “I’m fine,” Dani repeated, “I promise.”

Judy seemed unconvinced, stepping closer to press her palm on Dani’s cheek, meeting her eyes with a level of intensity that Dani wasn’t used to. Not from Judy. “You would tell me,” Judy started slowly, “if there was something wrong, wouldn’t you, honey?”

Words banged again within her chest, beating against her ribs. I don’t know how to love him, it said, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m -

“Of course,” Dani lied, guilt twisting tight around her neck as she gave Judy a reassuring smile.

With a sigh, Judy gently shook her head. “Then I want you to stop worrying,” she said firmly but gently, slipping into a smile that bordered on teasing, “You’ll both come around. I just know it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two souls made for each other as much as you two. Well, besides Mike and I, of course.”

Judy laughed softly and Dani couldn’t help but mimic her, invisible strings stretching her mouth into a broad smile. And when Judy finally left her alone to her own devices in the kitchen with the platter of cookies in hand, Dani’s shoulders sagged and her smile slipped away in place of weariness. It took a moment for her to decide, already pulling down a wine glass from the cupboard before she made up her mind. Digging out a wine bottle from the fridge to fill her glass with a burgundy red that settled heavy on her tongue and smoothed the building panic within her until it was reduced back to a simmer.

It kept her company for the evening, a sip taken for every sidelong glance from Eddie, every encouraging smile from Judy, every stern look her mother sent her way. But when night began to settle and her flushed cheeks began to buzz, Dani quietly slinked away from the festivities to grab her jacket and boots to slip outside the backdoor, exhaling in relief when she stepped out onto the porch.

Leaning against the railing, her breath was a white cloud as she took in the scene. The air was brisk but still and quiet, the sky an indigo blue with faint stars twinkling above her, and for the first time since waking up this morning, a sense of peace swept over her in the quiet of the dark. But Dani didn’t have it for long. She had only been outside for just a few moments when the backdoor opened. Tensing, she turned around with excuses already on her tongue, but sighed when Carson shut the door behind him with a small grin and joined her at the railing.

Without a word, Dani returned to staring listlessly into the dark sky and backyard, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Thought I’d find you out here,” Carson murmured softly, as though unwilling to disturb the quiet, “Mom sent me to look for you.”

Dani snorted humorlessly. “Worried I was going to run off into the night?”

“Nah,” Carson said, and then paused, narrowing his eyes, “Is that something I should be worried about?”

Breathing out a thin laugh, Dani nudged him in the ribs. He jerked away, chuckling with a pleased grin before digging out a rumbled pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one with practised ease, embers glowing bright in the dark, and wordlessly held it towards her. After a beat, Dani took it without looking over at him and took a long drag, welcoming the burn in her lungs.

“These aren’t good for you, you know,” she murmured flatly, expelling the smoke through pursed lips.

She felt Carson shrug. “I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it,” he said, lighting up a cigarette of his own.

Dani rolled her eyes in mild exasperation but didn’t respond, electing to smoke quietly until Carson broke the silence.

“Look, don’t worry about Eddie, okay?“

She sighed. “Carson.”

“I’m just saying,” he said, turning to face her, “I know he’s acting like a dick right now, but - well you know how he is. His favorite movie is The Graduate.” He twisted his face in distaste as though that explained everything.

Dani gave him a long look. “Is this why your mom sent you to find me?”

He shook his head. “Just to keep you company,” he murmured.

It was irritating how quick her eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears that she had to look away to hide them. She took a long drag to settle herself. “Thanks,” she said quietly, smoke billowing from her nose.

Carson was silent, the air thick with an unspoken question until finally he spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because believe it or not,” he said, “You’re not that hard to read.”

Her breath caught in her chest, staring fixedly at the untouched stretch of snow in the yard, feeling inexplicably like an exposed nerve. Swallowing thickly, she slowly met his eyes, almost expecting to see every single lie, every single confession waiting to stumble between her clenched teeth reflected back at her as though he knew all along. Just waiting for her to slip up and make a mistake and bleed herself dry. She didn’t know which was worse, the justified anger she had been expecting, or the gentle concern she found in his brown eyes instead.

When she took too long to respond, staring in a faint stupor, his frown deepened and he opened his mouth to speak, but Dani beat him to it. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” she stumbled out quickly, just a little sharply, and then softened when Carson blinked in surprise, the fight going out of her just as fast. “I just - I don’t like hurting him like that.”

Carson grinned softly. “I know,” he said, “But he’s gonna be fine. I promise. Before you know it, he’s going to be bugging you again about it. He’s relentless, remember?”

Dani nodded, almost unseeing as she took another long drag, weariness becoming a comfortable fixture in her bones. When she didn’t respond again, Carson put out his cigarette on the snow covered railing and wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a sigh. “Maybe you should run away after all,” he said.

A soft laugh escaped her, a small choked sound. She leaned against him when he chuckled and rubbed her shoulder, recalling a jar of loose change and crumbled bills left forgotten in some corner of her old bedroom with a fond, wistful smile.

—

‘Dear Jamie,

I don’t know why I keep trying to write these. Why I keep thinking about them. There’s nowhere for them to go, no address to send to. I write one, put it in an envelope, and then a few days later I throw it away. There’s no point in keeping them. Just as there’s no point in putting them in the post box.

I’ve stopped turning around and expecting you to be there when I have something to say. I guess that’s why I’ve been writing less of these lately. If you were going to come back, or call, or write to me, then you would’ve done so by now.

I think that’s the hardest part. Knowing that everyone else is moving on, while I’m here. I’m still here. Sometimes I think I always will be.

I like to imagine you going to all those places we talked about. I like to imagine your life is better now. I like to imagine you keep a piece of me with you.

- Dani

—

The car had seen better days, this Dani knew. No one had to tell her that. No one had to tell her that every door creaked with the screech of metal at every movement. That the gas meter was wrong more often than not, displaying it half full when in fact it was wheezing it's last breath. The passenger's side was slightly dented and scraped, the undercarriage tinted red with rust. But it was hers, and hers alone.

She’d only had it for a week now, bought just a few days after returning home from college for the summer with the full intention of making the most of it. The steering wheel was solid in her hands, the stereo tinny and staticky, the leather worn and crackling. A contained pocket universe of her own. It had the faint smell of dust and cigarettes, and she had spent the following day cleaning the interior before hanging an air freshener on the rearview window, all too happy to restore it to her liking for the simple fact that no one could tell her otherwise.

It felt like a taste of freedom, driving it for the first time. The sun was a warm companion as it slanted through the windows onto her skin, the wind from the open window whipping at her hair as she spent her evenings driving through neighbourhoods, watching streets and buildings pass by with aching familiarity and a sweet fondness.

Nothing could break her spell of gratified happiness. Not even Karen who scoffed and muttered under her breath with scorn and distaste when she laid eyes on it, displeased that Dani spent all her hard earned money on a car that could pass for a junker. Even when Eddie tilted his head in bewilderment, failing to hide his grimace when she had proudly showed it off couldn't diminish the lightness in her chest. Ignoring his mutterings that he could have come along to the dealer to assist in favor of soaking in Judy’s proud appraisals for taking another leap forward into adulthood, and Mike’s patient smile and offer to look over the car for basic maintenance.

But it wasn’t any of their reactions she had been truly looking forward to. Patiently waiting a full week until finally Carson arrived home from his freshman year at college with slumped shoulders and bags under his eyes to idle the car in the driveway and press on the car horn until he stumbled outside in his new leather jacket.

When he spotted the car and just who was inside, his eyes brightened and he sped towards her. “Holy shit, you did it!” Dani laughed and stepped out just in time for him to wrap her in a tight hug. “God, I missed you.”

“We saw each other two weeks ago,” Dani said, smiling into his chest.

“Yeah, but this is different,” Carson said, leaning heavily into her and groaned, “School’s finally over.” Dani stumbled under the weight of his taller frame and they both laughed, teetering off balance briefly until finally he pulled back. “Okay, I wanna look at it.”

Dani bit back a broad grin as he watched him round the car with the expression of a solemn appraiser. Pulling open doors to peer inside with hums of consideration and sweeping a finger over the scratched paint. He rubbed said finger with his thumb as though brushing off crumbs and finally aimed an impressed expression towards her.

“Well?” Dani said, folding her arms in amusement.

“It’s a load of junk,” Carson said, and Dani snorted, “But I love it.”

Dani rolled her eyes and Carson laughed, slinging an arm around her neck “I can’t believe you did it, I’m so proud of you,” he said, placing a kiss to her forehead.

“Thanks,” she murmured with a small smile as she looked over the car.

“But you do realize though that you’re driving me everywhere from now on, right?”

With a derisive snort, Dani shoved him off, grinning when he laughed again. “In that case, you’re buying gas.”

“Ouch,” he said, wincing and pressing a hand to his chest, “No free rides? Not even for your favorite O’Mara?”

“Nope,” Dani said, her mouth curling with an impish grin, “Though I do have the perfect place in mind for the first drive.”

He brightened with curiosity. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Dani hummed, and without any fanfare, she pulled a folded envelope from the back pocket of her jeans and held it out towards him with a murmur, “Happy belated birthday.”

He blinked at her in surprise. “That was months ago.”

She shrugged shyly. “Wanted to do something special since we missed doing something last time,” she said, “And then I saw this, and well - I couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.”

The look he gave her was warm, fondness blooming from his eyes. Without a word, he took the envelope and peeked inside. He gasped, his eyes going wide. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“These are - no fucking way. These are tickets to - ?“

“They are. The show’s in two days.”

“Holy shit. Holy shit, Dani!” He laughed brightly and pulled her into a back breaking hug, lifting her off her feet, murmuring thank yous on repeat in her hair.

The next two days were spent in anticipation and secrecy, having told no one but Mike their plans for the day. When the day finally arrived, they piled into Dani’s car and rushed down the street with breathless giggles in an effort to not get caught by anyone from either household. Carson, happy and eager for the concert, using her dashboard as a makeshift drum with the drumsticks he brought along, and Dani, relieved to finally have an excuse to drive somewhere that wasn’t drifting aimlessly through streets.

The road long and narrow ahead of them, Dani guided them out of town towards Des Moines, North Liberty slowly disappearing in the rearview mirror like a mirage. Driving away felt like leaving reality behind, if only for a while. It was the possibility of choice, itself an illusion. A pretty fantasy she could pantomime like an actor on stage. With nothing but flat fields of corn and grass on the horizon, the great blue sky yawning open above her, she teased at the notion of letting her car take her beyond Des Moines, beyond into the unknown. That she might never leave the road until her tires wore down to the rim or she reached the end of the world.

“How did you even afford all this?” Carson asked over the rumbling of car wheels on tarmac and music hissing from the stereo. “The car and the tickets. It must have cost a fortune.”

“Not really,” Dani said, keeping her eyes on the road, “Saved up a lot from working at that bookstore near campus and years of allowances. And believe it or not - “ she aimed a sly grin at him “ - the car came pretty cheap.”

Carson snorted and rolled his eyes, slouching back into his seat.

What she failed to mention was the handful of bills and change from a certain travel fund jar that had helped her along the way. The money having been tucked away for years in the dark corners of her room, lingering over her like a shadowed veil. It had added up to nothing more than fifty-six dollars, a small dent in what the car and tickets cost that it might as well have been water vapor for all it contributed. But it was long overdue. There was no leaving North Liberty, no traveling the world like she had once dreamed, but having a car of her own, a whole world of her own — it was as close she was ever going to get.

The concert, in the end, was bright and loud and the most fun Dani has had in years. Rough guitars and heavy drums that felt like thunder in her chest, it wasn’t the kind of music Dani would ever actively search out, but she couldn’t deny how easy it was to get caught up into it. The stage lights casting along the surging and dancing crowd. Carson beside her, cheering and singing along to every word with the crowd until he was hoarse. And Dani with her shoulders the lightest it’s been in years, an unknown spectre amongst a crowd of hundreds, with no expectations and constraints tangled around her neck.

On the drive home, loose-limbed and the humid night air thick and heavy as molasses, she kept the windows down to let in the breeze that cooled their skin and ruffled their hair. Carson slouched low in his seat, almost boneless as he fiddled with the radio with a happy grin and lethargic eyes.

“So,” Dani started, “did you have fun?”

“Do you even need to ask,” he croaked, his voice rough. Dani snorted, sparing him a fond smile as he finally settled on a station and leaned back against the headrest, soaking in the breeze. “Although, you’re on thin ice though for refusing to buy me a drink. And on my birthday, too.” He aimed a disappointed look at her and shook his head with a tisk.

She gave him a reproachful look. “You’re underage,” she said, “And your birthday is in February.”

Dani laughed as he grumbled beside her. But when he fell silent again, the hiss of the stereo and a distant rumble of thunder, the smell of rain in the air, he turned to her with an earnestly soft expression.

“Did I say thank you, yet?”

“About no less than a hundred times, I think,” Dani said with a quiet huff of laughter.

“I mean it this time,” he said, “Thank you for this. Really. I missed you guys.”

“We missed you too,” Dani murmured.

Instead of saying anything more, there was a look of hesitancy on his face, his eyes drifting down for a moment. “You know who else I miss?” Carson’s mouth curled into a plaintive grin, and without waiting for an answer, he murmured, “Jamie.”

Dani blinked in surprise, her eyes fixed on the red eyes of tail lights ahead in the darkened road, lightning flashing in darkened clouds in the distance as her knuckles went white against the steering wheel. Hearing that name again felt like the unexpected sound of shattering glass, like the first drops of rain against her skin. One she hasn’t heard spoken in a long time, forbidden and forgotten as though it were a curse. It had been years since Carson’s spoken of her, not since the following weeks after Jamie left. Quiet in his mourning like the rest of the family. Solemn whispers in corners and sidelong glances of concern and disquiet, gradually ebbing away until the jagged edges were smoothed with time until the memories were a faceless thing with no name. Swallowing thickly, she glanced briefly at him, at the fond wistfulness across his features as he stared through the windshield.

“Yeah?” she said in a gentle encouragement to continue.

Carson nodded and murmured, “Wish she was here. She would have loved the show.”

A dim ache spread across Dani’s chest, a fond smile pulling at her mouth. “Yeah,” Dani breathed, “She would’ve.”

Lightning flashed again, sparks of blue hanging low in the sky in the far distance, thunder following shortly in a slow roll. And all too easily, all too abruptly, Dani could hear Jamie’s voice in her head. ‘Looks like a big one, Poppins.’ Could picture her crooked grin and mischievous eyes, eager for another wild storm chase with Dani right at her heels. But they were in Dani’s car this time, and just the thought alone — of Jamie being here next to her, egging her on for another chase, teasing her for being the driver for once — left her feeling strained and bone weary with longing affection.

She found her foot gradually pushing down on the accelerator, urging her car faster down the highway in an effort to vanish the memories and to leave the storm behind them, thunder and lightning growing distant in the rear view mirror.

—

It was the end of the semester, and Dani had offered Eddie a ride back to North Liberty. A carpool to save them gas. It felt strange having him in the passenger seat. Normally he would insist on driving. Other cars Dani did not drive. Someone else would step towards the driver’s side, and she would shrink away towards the passenger seat. But nobody drove Dani’s car except her. Always.

Outside the sky had begun to darken, and the fields were a vast, flat silhouette beneath a deepening grey sky. Dani flicked on the headlights to illuminate the road. Beside her Eddie seemed content being in control of the radio station, fiddling with the dials until he arrived at some jazz or folk station that he preferred. The conversation was calm and easy. The two of them drifted from topic to topic, unafraid of the silences in between. Unlike his brothers, Eddie could sit in the silence of his own thoughts with another person for hours.

It was, Dani thought, one of the things she liked about him best. Being alone, together.

“Have you heard anything from the twins lately?” Dani asked.

Eddie tapped along to a soft jazzy beat in the background, his fingers gently keeping time against his knee. “Not much,” he said. “David’s still at that accounting job, and Tommy’s wedding is all scheduled for April.”

“Where’s that happening?”

“Cedar Rapids, I think.” Eddie turned his head towards her. “Will you come as my plus one?”

Smiling, Dani kept her eyes on the road. “Of course. What? Did you think I wasn’t going to go? Judy would drag me up there herself.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

“I’m going to need to buy a new dress, though.”

“Why? Your mom isn’t coming, is she?”

“Well, I don’t know. Tommy’s in charge of the wedding invitations.”

“And you think he’s going to send one to your mom?” Eddie asked, incredulous.

Dani shifted her grip upon the steering wheel. “You try telling her she can’t come.”

He made a face. “No, thanks.”

“Coward,” she said, shooting him a grin.

“And proud of it. Your mom is a lot.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.”

Silence again. The white noise of the tires across worn out asphalt beneath the faint strains of twelve-bar blues. Dani concentrated on the straight of road, while Eddie contemplated the stars dotting the horizon through the window.

They did not speak again until Dani pulled up to their childhood street and killed the engine in front of her mom’s house. By that time, night had washed over the earth. A few houses on the street burned through their windows with interior lights, bleeding warmth and attracting moths.

“Thanks for the ride,” Eddie said into the quiet darkness of the car.

Dani smiled over at him. “Yeah. No problem.”

“You should come over for lunch tomorrow. Mom would love to see you.”

“I’ll be there at eleven,” Dani said.

“Great.”

Through the dim light, she could see him smile. He leaned over the center console and kissed her. His mouth was warm and soft, and he cradled her jaw in his palm. When she closed her eyes she could almost imagine she felt something. Could almost convince herself. The kiss was chaste yet lingering, and when he pulled away he stroked his thumb over the bluff of her cheek.

“Wish mom would let you stay over,” he murmured.

“Like old times?” Dani joked.

“Yeah.”

He leaned forward again. A brief kiss. And then he was gone. Opening the door and hauling himself out, striding across the street. Dani watched him all the way, as he fumbled with his keys at the front door, until finally he had entered his house and vanished from sight.

Her hand was still squeezing the steering wheel in a death grip. With a slow exhale, Dani let go and stepped out onto the street. Unlike the O’Mara house, her mom’s house was dark. When she unlocked the front door and pushed it open, she was greeted with darkness. The smell of cigarettes was familiar and overpowering. Not even a college campus full of hormonal twenty-somethings could compete.

For a moment she lingered, hand at the doorknob, teetering on the liminal space between outside and inside, between sacred and profane. The house itself was a yawning open space. A muzzle. Something with teeth that needed to be chained off from loss of limb. Snatching her hand away, Dani stepped forward and shut herself inside.

Creak of the floorboards beneath her feet. After so many years, this house managed to surprise her still. New groans, new sensitive spots on the floor to catalogue and avoid. Her eyes flicked towards the ceiling, but she heard nothing from above. Her mother must be dead asleep or otherwise out and about for the evening. Dani did not know. Nor did she particularly want to know.

Slowly, carefully, she crept upstairs. Flicking on the light in her room felt like an intrusion in and of itself. As though she had set something alight, touched a torch to the pyre and a roar of kindling. Shutting the door behind her, Dani changed into pajamas as quickly as she could and slipped beneath the sheets of her bed, book in hand. At first she did not open it, ears pricked, listening for clues, but the house was — as ever — usually silent.

She had only just cracked the book open to the marked page when her bedside table crackled with a faint voice. Frowning, Dani reached over, opened the top drawer, and found an old walkie talkie there. The radio was scuffed from use, wire mesh scraped and worn and half buried beneath miscellany. She picked it up and leaned back against the pillows, holding her breath for whoever was on the other end to make a noise again.

It was an irrational thought. A memory. A daydream. A secret. A wish. She clutched the radio to her chest in breathless anticipation, expecting —

“Danielle?”

The speaker crackled with disuse, louder than she had been expecting. Dani almost dropped it into her lap, had to fumble to keep it in one hand. Swallowing thickly, she lifted it and pressed down on the button.

“Eddie? Is that you?”

“Hey,” he said. “You’re still awake.”

“Yeah.”

“Your mom around?”

“No. But I don’t know when she’ll be back.”

Silence. It went on for so long that Dani pressed the button down again and prompted, “Eddie?”

“I’m here,” he said.

Her shoulders relaxed. She could almost imagine him sprawled out on the bed beside her, his large frame cramped in such a small space. She wished he were here, now. She wished he were warm and solid beneath her hand. She wished she could touch him. She wished she wasn’t alone. She wished -

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked. It wasn’t even the second. It was however the first time Dani hesitated. Swallowing thickly, Dani found herself gazing at her bedside table again, at the photo of Jamie and herself propped there, at that broad blazing smile.

Dani squeezed her eyes shut. Her hand was squeezing the life from the walkie talkie, and she had to force her fingers to unclench. She pressed her thumb against the button and murmured, “Good night, Eddie.”

—

‘Dear Jamie,

Come home.’

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #dani clayton/jamie #bring home a haunting #bhah #damie #roman writes

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