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notjustjavierpena · 1 year

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Reunion - Part I: Tonight

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: I have wanted to post this for a week now, expanding the dbf-universe a little more than it just being smut. It’s cliché-filled and lovely, and I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

Summary: You're flying back to visit your parents (it’s Joel, you’re actually home for) after a month at college.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, dad’s best friend joel miller, daddy kink, sooooo much longing and love and fluff and teasing, Joel gets a blowjob, pet names, PIV sex, rough sex, dirty talk, cuddles, reader’s dad is oblivious

Word count: 6.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49869355/chapters/125892244

Tonight

You feel giddy as you walk through the airport with your headphones on, your bag slung over your shoulder, and with a bounce in your step. Your feet’s movements have automatically adjusted to the beat of the song that’s playing in your ears, setting a late-summer soundtrack to your life as unimportant faces pass.

It’s sunny and warm inside the glass building, and whilst you cannot wait to get outside into the colder weather, it’s actually because of your father’s work emergency that you are excited; Joel is picking you up instead.

Joel at 11:06 a.m.: I can’t wait to see you. -JM

Your eyes roam over the screen of your phone whilst you pass through the crowd, smiling in a way that would make your parents ask why. Who knew that Joel Miller could make you feel like summer was still at its peak?

“There you are,” Joel says when you find his car in the enormous parking lot. He is leaning against the side of the vehicle, and you approach him whilst taking off your earphones to let them hang around your neck.

When you are less than twenty feet from him, you stop walking and run the rest of the way. You close the distance between you by throwing your arms around him in a tight hug, a happy squeak leaving your mouth. He lets out an ompf-sound but embraces you when the car saves him from falling backward.

“Hey,” he says into your hair, noticing the volume of your music when he can hear it play through the speakers, “You hate your ears?”

You are too busy breathing him in, head swimming from the very first inhale of his cologne, “Hm?”

“Turn that music down,” he tells you.

“God, stop sounding like my dad,” you groan and step back from him to do as you are told, “Fucking boner killer.”

“Don’t swear at me,” he warns but his tone tells you that the way he rolls his eyes at you afterward is more playful than impatient. He holds out his hand, “Bag.”

You stuff your headphones into the bag before giving it to Joel and watch him throw it into the backseat before circling the truck to hold the passenger door open for you. It feels stupid when your heart flutters at the sight of both of your bags lying side by side.

“Thank you,” you smile politely as you crawl into the car, “Even if you just hurled my possessions into the car.”

“Brat.”

You ogle him in the few moments it takes him to walk around the front of the car. He wears a green flannel shirt over one of his usual t-shirts, chest threatening to pop the buttons with how tight it is across his broad frame. A part of you hopes that he has dressed up for you, and the image of him fussing over his appearance in the mirror before leaving to pick you up is enough to make you smile goofily to yourself.

“What?” He asks when he finally sits beside you, turning the key in the ignition. The truck comes alive.

“Nothing,” you shrug, but then lean across the console center of the car. You reach up to cup his cheek and turn his head towards you, “You just look very handsome today.”

Then you kiss him softly on the mouth, seeking him out in the way that only you are allowed. He turns his body towards you, slides a hand around your back, and rests the other on the back of your neck.

“Mhm, and you’re lookin’ pretty, princess,” he hums against your mouth.

You kiss for a while, intimate and soft. When you try to move closer and escalate things by nearly crawling into his lap, he grips the hair at the back of your neck and holds you in place.

“No,” he tells you and you whine in response.

The hand you have on his cheek slips down to rest on his shoulder, but only so you can reach down on his back and scratch affectionately between his shoulder blades, “Please. It’s been forever, and— and I’m getting wet just thinking about it.”

Joel’s jaw tightens as he restrains himself. He shakes his head, eyes only going down between your legs very briefly, “Promised your old man to feed you on the way back since he ain’t at home, and your mom’s gone out with her colleagues. Plus there’s no way I’m screwin' a girl twenty years my junior in my car… in a public place. Don’t care how busy it is here.”

You slip from his grasp and sit back into the passenger seat with a huff. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him adjust himself in his washed-out jeans, “When then?”

“Tonight,” he promises as he pulls out of the parking space, “Think of how good it’ll be after bein' worked up all day.”

“If you can wait that long,” you sigh dramatically.

Joel scoffs and then starts to drive. Your clit throbs during the whole duration of the car ride.

He eventually pulls into an IHOP parking lot after you’ve begged him since seeing the billboard a few miles earlier. It is better than one of the roadside diners and more crowded too which gives you a greater sense of privacy.

You step out of the car, immediately met with the smell of sugary fried food. It makes your stomach growl, but still, and you’ll admit it, you are more excited to see what feast Joel will choose than you are about eating pancakes for lunch.

“C’mon,” he says as you lose yourself to basking in the sunlight and listening to the cars driving by on the highway.

“Lemme just get my wallet.”

Joel makes a sound of disapproval, “Food’s on me. Get your ass in there.”

The restaurant looks less rundown than you’d expected, and the sweetness in the air hits you like a brick wall as soon as you step over the threshold of the entrance. People are chatting loudly whilst eating breakfast foods, somewhere a baby cries and you have to actively search for a free table.

You walk across the tiled floor which is meant to look like wooden boards, not able to see Joel but feeling his presence a few steps behind you. When someone walks in front of you, you hear him grumble and feel his hand on the small of your back. Your head swims, your stomach swirling at the warmth of his touch.

Unsurprisingly, this means that it ends up being him who finds an unoccupied corner for you, one that doesn’t have anything sticky on the blue cushions of the booth. He offers you the booth and takes the chair on the opposite side.

You pick up the laminated paper menu from in front of you, studying it intensely. In the many years that you have known Joel, you have never actually been out with him where it’s just been the two of you because why would you? It makes butterflies fly around in your belly, fighting their way out until they are everywhere in your body. Especially between your legs when you see him scratch his beard whilst also looking for something to eat.

“This is our first date, you know,” you note and see Joel tense a little. You try to sound cool and indifferent whilst hiding behind the menu, “Are you nervous?”

“I’m usually always a lil’ nervous when I’m with a pretty girl,” he replies nonchalantly too, “But actually no. Even if she’s the prettiest girl I ever saw.”

You dare not open your mouth at that, scared that the butterflies might actually escape your body at this point and fly off into the air. You are hot in the face, resting the menu against your forehead to hide your face from him, “Shut up.”

“You started it.”

You peek over the top and are just about to say something when—

“Hi and welcome to IHOP!” A way too cheerful voice says and interrupts the tender moment. You slam the menu into the table a little too hard.

Both of you stare at the waitress, but Joel looks more like he has been offended by her bubbly attitude. She has a heavy southern twang. vibrant red lipstick and thick-framed glasses that suggest that she’s trying to go for something vintage and modern at the same time, “What can I getcha?”

Joel mumbles something about bacon and eggs along with the blackest coffee they have. The woman scribbles erratically on her notepad whilst complimenting his choice.

“And for your daughter?” She continues. Joel looks horrified, and you try to hide your giggle.

“I’ll take your cupcake pancakes, please. And a strawberry shake,” you reply, “And hash browns for me and my dad to share.”

“Alrighty!” The waitress concludes, collects the menus, and turns to Joel, “And for you, I’ll be right there with your coffee, sir.”

Joel kicks you under the table as soon as she has left. You stick out your tongue at him, but he fixes you with a stern look, “Don’t fuckin’ do that.”

“Why? It’s just a joke,” you shrug and lean back into the booth, “Not like anyone knows us here.”

It’s then that you realize that it probably has more to do with him than you; Joel probably feels like the comment was a slap in the face and a way of illustrating how fucked-up his relationship with you is. You find that you don’t actually care if the relationship is known to the whole IHOP, but with the way that Joel is looking away, you don’t dare to lean over and kiss his lips.

“Hey,” your voice is gentle as you place your hand on the table, palm facing up, “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

Joel curls his own hand around yours but still doesn’t say anything. His eyes are focused somewhere else as if he doesn’t dare to look back at you. You don’t think you dare see the wounded look on his face.

“This isn’t just fun ‘n games to me, you know. I mean, it may have started like that, but over the summer…” you try to fill the silence, background chatter fading from your ears as your pulse picks up, “I do mean it when I say I mi—“

“Stop,” he warns, eyes snapping back to yours and stealing your breath for a second, “We ain’t talking about that in a goddamn IHOP.”

“I feel like there’s no better place to do it,” you retort but he just shakes his head with a mix between a chuckle and a scoff.

“Tonight,” he says just like earlier.

When the food arrives, you eat in comfortable silence for the most part, and the conversation revolves around mundane things such as how you find the start of the semester and what projects he has coming up at work.

You barely give him reason to tut at you. You play nice and sweet, and make him laugh genuinely so you can admire the tiny lines around his eyes. He only makes a parental comment when you start to wolf down the plate of hash browns, and you respond by stuffing the last one into his mouth. It earns you a laugh that nearly sets your heart on fire with how rapidly it ticks.

He drives you all the way home afterward, and you dare to steal a kiss from him before exiting the car. You’ll be around later, you say, and he suggests picking you up, but you tell him you'd rather just take your bike and save him the gas money. He somewhat accepts.

When you step inside your childhood home, you lean against the door with a giggle. Your cheeks burn as you cup them, staying like that for a minute whilst you try to calm your pounding heart. You run your fingers up and through your hair while sighing, “Shit.”

You think back to the first time Joel had fucked you in your bedroom. It had been rushed, intense, and frankly terrifying, but then it’d been good. More than good. The greatest, actually. It had opened something up inside your chest, provoked something between your thighs that you didn’t know existed. In return, Joel has become more gentle with you, softened under your touch every time you are together. You wonder if…

He still yanks your hair, reprimands you, and practically makes you feel like you’re on fire when he touches your pussy like no one has ever done before, but you could swear that he kisses you like you’re more than just fun.

You distract yourself with a shower, find yourself dipping the shower head between your legs for just a moment before shaking the thought. You’ll get what you want soon enough, no need to fantasize. Instead, you do the mind-numbing task of shaving your legs.

Just before leaving for Joel’s, already sitting on your bike, you shoot your father a text.

You at 6:55 p.m.: House is empty. Going out.

Dad at 7:15 p.m.: I’ll be home in 2-3 hours. Did you eat dinner? -Dad

You at 7:17 p.m.: Yep, see u tomorrow :)

And then you start pedaling.

Joel opens his door with a smirk, grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside his home after making sure that no one is watching. You didn’t even know that you could pine for someone you already have. Yet here he is looking young, beautiful, and full of life when he is sneaking around with you, and you want him to kiss you silly.

He reads your mind, closes the door quickly afterward, and doesn’t hesitate. He kisses your giggling mouth with the determination to follow up on your make-out session in the truck earlier. He has his arms around you, pushes you gently against the front door, and practically eats at your open mouth. It makes you sigh softly, your heartbeat racing and your skin prickling with electric excitement.

“I’ve missed you,” you confess when you pull away from his lips to go down his neck with the same enthusiasm as a puppy who hasn’t seen their human in forever. Usually, Joel is the one who is eager to move on with less innocent things, but you have been in his company half the day without permission to touch him like this, so you are starving for him.

“We saw each other a few hours ago,” he argues, relaxing his grip on you as your tongue goes over a certain spot that has the ability to bring him to his knees. He groans quietly over your shoulder.

“Wanna suck you off,” you whisper in his ear then descend to your knees right on his scratchy doormat. He rests his hand on your head and runs it over your hair with the gentleness of someone who has nothing to prove, shakes his head at your suggestion that’s hardly a suggestion.

“Not here, your knees gonna hurt,” he insists.

“Don’t care,” you say and mean it; you’ll take the rug burn. You don’t stop your hands from unbuckling his belt, looking up at him through your lashes with a devious smile on your face. He strains, half-hard, against the zipper, and when you pull it down he seems to give in completely.

You yank his jeans down over his hips, and he starts helping you by stepping out of them until they lay forgotten on the floor behind you. As soon as you lay eyes on the outline of his cock, you run your palm over it from tip to base. A wet patch is already threatening to form on the front of his boxers with your simple touch, his length coming to full size as he swells completely underneath your hand. You can see the head starting to poke out from underneath the waistband, so you take pity on him and yank his underwear all the way down as well. They pool around his ankles until they end up in the same pile as Joel’s jeans.

Your mouth is salivating at the sight of him fully hard after a good month without him. Joel is shaking in anticipation, his usual calm and collected facade crumbling.

You waste no time; your hand wraps around the base of Joel’s cock to guide the head to your mouth. The ache to taste him has settled between your legs, clit twitching as you let out the flat of your tongue, curling it around the underside of the head to lick along the frenulum. Your eyes nearly roll back into your skull, and Joel seems to enjoy it because you hear his head bump against the door.

He moans and shudders above you, but he doesn’t yank at your hair like most stupid college boys would already have done because they’ve seen it on the internet. He takes his time with it, instead spreads his fingers over your scalp, scratches, and lets you move freely, “Ohh, you’ve been hungry for it, haven’t ya?”

You smile up at him, nod eagerly to earn praise, and then lick along the underside of the head again. You catch a droplet of precome with the tip of your tongue as you reach the slit, tasting the slight bitterness on him with a hum before repeating the move.

“Mhmmm, that’s it, good girl,” he says breathily.

When you want to tease him a little more, you move to nose along the shaft until you can press a wet kiss by the base. He twitches a little in your fist. You start planting open-mouthed kisses all the way up to the head again, stroking him a few times after getting to the tip.

Your free hand skims up underneath his t-shirt, over the trail of hair that you sometimes bury your nose in whether it be during this sort of thing or just when you feel extra cuddly, mirroring the hand on your head and splaying across his soft stomach. Your nails scratch too, affectionately almost, and then you prepare yourself to take him into your mouth.

Joel looks down as you stop, but groans as he sees you let a good amount of spit gather in your mouth. You let it drip down over the head. His stomach jumps underneath your palm, “Fuck, you are trouble, ain’t ya? Can’t wait to see that pretty mouth around my dick.”

You hum. A few kisses to the head, and then you slide your lips down over him. It is quite the stretch to fit him as far inside as you want in this insatiable state, but you are satisfied with your work when he chokes out a noise that you only thought you were capable of making. That weak croak is worth the ache that will eventually overtake your jaw.

Joel bucks his hips as soon as you encase him in the heat of your mouth. The fat head stabs at the back of your throat, causing you to gag and clench around him but he seems too far gone to even register its doing on you. You let him do it again, blinking rapidly to stop tears from spilling down your cheeks.

Instinctively, his free hand wraps around the wrist of the hand you have on his stomach. He groans as you bob your head and make tiny noises that sometimes develop into wet gagging.

When Joel’s hips start to move, you begin to feel the doormat underneath your jean-clad knees. He isn’t being particularly rough with you, but it’s his size that makes the tears, that you’ve blinked away successfully so far, spill from the corners of your eyes. He is so big, hot, and heavy on your tongue, and filling your belly with the sweetest ache for him to wear you out tonight.

The other hand finally grips tightly, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail. You whimper as he tugs, fucking you onto his cock, and he nearly loses his mind as your throat squeezes around him with the sound.

“Filthy, filthy girl,” he scorns as spit starts to dribble down your chin, continuous wet noises bouncing off the walls of the living room, “God… You’re gonna make me come down ya tight throat.”

Perhaps after he has fucked you, you think, and then barely shake your head. Joel notices though, slows down as he gets too close, dick twitching inside your mouth before he, albeit reluctantly, draws back out. His breathing is ragged, trying his hardest to calm down and stop himself from teetering around the edge.

You swallow down the remainder of spit in your mouth and pull your hand out of Joel’s grip to wipe the back of it over your soaked chin, shiny with saliva and tears. Your eyes are red, your lips puffy, and your hair a mess. Your jaw hurts from the strain on it but despite this, it hurts more between your legs by now; the throbbing sensation has started to become uncomfortable, your clit desperate for friction and your cunt feeling so empty that it clenches again and again. You need to be filled right now, think you might die if he doesn’t shove his cock in you soon.

“Need you,” you say to break the silence and start to get up on your feet again. You want to cling to him, shed him of the rest of his clothes, and crawl under his skin to live there. You almost sob, “So bad, Daddy. Please please please.”

“Shh…” he coos, toeing off his socks and reaching for the hem of his shirt. He pulls it over his head, revealing his beautiful tan skin and the faint amount of hair on his chest. You reach out to run your nails through it, but he grabs both your wrists and starts taking off your top instead.

“Let me touch you,” you whine but still let him undress you slowly, piece by piece of clothing ending up in the same spot on the floor.

“Y’just touched me,” he says simply, reaching around you to undo your bra. He slides the straps down your arms, the cool air of the room hitting your chest and making your nipples harden. He hums in approval, “So fuckin’ pretty. Been too long.”

He cups your tits, pushes them together, drags his thumbs over your taut nipples, and then lets go when you’re just about to let out a moan. He looks as starved as you and he satisfies his hunger by kissing you with bruising force, his chest against yours to feel your breasts press against himself.

You hoist yourself up and wrap your legs around his waist, his thick cock trapped between your stomachs. He groans at the friction with each step he takes towards the couch and you kiss the noise right off his tongue, sucking at the tip as a reminder of what you have done minutes earlier.

When he reaches the destination, he drops you down onto the leather. Then he leans over you, one knee beside you to reach for the curtains to close them, and you almost give in to the urge of sucking him off again because he is so close. He seems to notice.

“Sit back, panties off,” he orders whilst making sure there are no gaps that anyone can peek inside of.

You follow orders so quickly. He takes no time to tease either, sinks to his knees, yanks your ass further to the edge, and parts your legs until he can get in between them. Your hands rest on the back of your thighs, holding yourself open for him as he guides his cockhead inside of you.

The slight breach makes your breath hitch in your throat until it comes out in a wanton whine, walls already trying to pull him In further. Joel joins you with a guttural groan, staring down at your stretching cunt as he feeds it inch after inch. Usually, there’s some resistance, a pinch, but he bottoms out inside of you so quickly now that you’ve been wet since you saw him before lunch.

You throw your head back against the back of the couch and let him have his way with you, feel him repeatedly pull out almost all the way until he slams right back in and sets a desperate pace. His hand rests on your mound so his thumb can circle your swollen clit, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so fucked out in mere minutes.

Your breath catches, your pulse quickens, the first time he slides over your g-spot which he immediately notices with the way your pussy clenches in surprise pleasure. It makes him repeat the move, tilting his hips to ensure he won’t miss it with every crash of his pelvis into yours.

“Don’t stop, ah-ah! Joel!” You practically yell for him, digging your nails into the plump flesh of your thighs and triggering a growl from him. He cants his hips again so he can move forward and lean into you, still rubbing your clit with his thumb, but now also losing himself in a kiss that’s surprisingly soft compared to the crushing force of his thrusts.

When he pulls back, his body needing the air through his mouth again if he is to continue fucking you like this, he rests his forehead against yours. His breaths are damp and exchanging with your own. Your eyes meet in a fiery gaze as filth starts pouring from his mouth.

“I’mma fuckin’ wear this pussy out tonight, princess,” he tells you with a moan, speeding up the taut circles on your throbbing clit as if to make a demonstration of his next promise, “Make you come and come and - shit, that’s good - fuckin’ wring them out of you.”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m gonna come right now,” your voice is frantic and your toes are starting to curl.

“Fuck yes, you are, can feel it,” he pants, “Right on Daddy’s cock, just like he wants it.”

You come undone under his intense gaze with an orgasm that knocks the wind out of your chest to the point where your voice disappears, the only evidence remaining being the furrow of your brow and the open-mouthed yet silent ah. Joel can see it, sense it.

When you come back to earth, greediness bubbles up in your chest. Despite your voice still being caught in your throat, you manage to croak out a wish, “Wanna get on top. Not finished.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel groans in unison with you as he pulls out of your oversensitive cunt. It doesn’t take long to switch positions, and with a steady grip on the backrest of the couch, you drag your wet heat across Joel’s painfully hard dick. It twitches against your cunt, and he whines when he holds it steady for you to sink down onto.

He fills you differently like this, goes deeper, and feels impossibly bigger. You give an experimental roll of your hips and Joel’s hands fly to your hips, his head falling backward and his body slumping into the seat.

Your initial pace is slow but you want to move faster, yet your body is held in place by Joel’s hands having slid up to hold around your waist. He sets the pace just like before, pushing a little on your back to arch it just how you like to do it yourself. The tip of his cock pokes into your front wall, and the slow sensation of getting it to slide over your g-spot has you thrashing in his lap.

“Need ya to come without me touchin’ your pretty little clit,” he begs without saying please and then slides his thumbs down to rest below your belly button, “Missed it so much, couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it.”

He presses the two digits into your flesh, adding the amount of pressure that he has found out is just right by playing with you for hours during the summer. You keen, head lolling to the side and your jaw going slack, “Just like that, Daddy. I’m gonna come if you keep going like that!”

He allows you to ride him in earnest after that, bouncing in his lap and causing the front of his thighs to slap noisily up into your ass. Your whole body trembles at the force, building the pressure that you’ve come to know so well after Joel pulled himself together to fuck you that one day.

“Fuck, you givin’ me another one already? Lucky Daddy,” he growls, still denting your belly with his thumbs. Your pulse is so incredibly fast, and your breaths are nothing but squeaks.

You let out a high-pitched sound as your orgasm rolls through your body, electricity spreading out from your cunt to make your chest blush. You clamp down rhythmically on Joel’s cock and he nearly slides down onto the floor with the way that he melts under you. The thick head continues to ram into your g-spot to keep the second high going for as long as your body will allow, but whereas your voice was gone earlier, you force out a request.

With your hips not stilling, you lock eyes with him and give him a lazy smile, “Tell me when you’re about to come, Daddy.”

“Fuck, won’t be long,” he pants.

“Tell me when,” you repeat.

“N-now, princess!”

You don’t warn him as you lift yourself up from his dick to slide down onto the floor, kneeling with a dirty smile. He catches on fast, swearing under his breath at the realization, and spreads his legs so you can settle between them.

Quickly, you guide his cock to the far back of your mouth and suck him like he is a popsicle and it’s a hot summer’s day. He sure tastes good, arguably better than normally because he is coated in your sweet slick. The dramatic part of you would say that he tastes like sin.

He hisses loudly above you, immediately yanking at your hair when you swallow him down enthusiastically. You make sure to hum so that your muscles clench around his length and the vibrations go down his shaft.

You’re delusional with post-orgasmic pleasure as you bob your head, squeaking as Joel painfully pulls at your hair to the point where you can hear a few strands of hair pop off your scalp. He is so close, twitching in your mouth with every beat of his heart.

When you hollow your cheeks, he comes on your tongue with a loud groan. His hips stutter slightly but you expertly move with him so nothing spills, and so you can push it to the back of your mouth and swallow.

You radiate pride as you pull off of his spit-slicked cock. He breathes heavily, utterly spent and relishing in it.

“See? No mess to clean,” you rest your cheek against his knees as his cock softens.

“Wow, clever girl,” he praises with the little energy he has left whilst you beam. He holds out his hand for you to take, “C’mere, baby.”

You don’t know how long the two of you lie down on the couch together, naked bodies completely entwined. Your back is pressed against Joel’s chest, and you are giggling as you talk about tedious date-like things that somehow feel like they’re the most interesting things in the world. You ask Joel about his favorite color to which he says that he doesn’t have one because he’s a grownass man. So you playfully roll your eyes and continue on to the topic of favorite songs, would-you-rathers, embarrassing habits…

Joel answers them reluctantly and shyly at first but then seems to relax into it when you answer your own questions with a laugh that has his heart beating so fast that you can feel it against your back.

And then you go again, spooning this time, and you don’t make a joke about his outstanding refractory period because you are too busy trying to make sense of how many orgasms he pulls from you by sliding his hand down your belly and between your thighs.

The pattern starts over. You talk a bit more, but the topic never lands on what you had planned during your way-too-sugary (Joel’s words) lunch together.

Instead, Joel suggests bringing you to his shower, but you reassure him that you are far from done with him for the night, so he might as well save the hot water and the money for the heating bill.

He hums in agreement but does, however, convince you to hydrate with a huge glass of water and to wipe yourself down with a damp flannel that he gets for you during a lie about having to pee. The flannel has cooled down on its journey from the bathroom but it soothes your aching clit the second you hold it over the swollen nub. You sigh contentedly whilst Joel lays down behind you once again.

“Right, where were we?” You say excitedly.

Joel sighs into your neck and tightens an arm around you, “Thought I had made ya forget about that.”

“Well excuse me for wanting to get to know you better,” you tut, patting the hand that splays on your belly, “Now tell me if you were a jock in high school.”

“You got some nerve,” his chest rumbles as he talks, “Definitely wasn’t. I spent all my teen years keepin’ my baby brother outta trouble, you think I had time to play football? Did try baseball once though.”

“I feel like there’s a joke about balls in there,” you lean back and turn slightly to look up at him, wiggling your brows.

“Shut up,” he laughs, and you don’t think you have ever witnessed the man laugh as much as he has done in the last hour.

“I’m just saying you don’t know if you haven’t tried it,” you continue. A warm feeling settles in your heart as he breaks into another grin followed by a chuckle. The hand on your stomach digs into your side, triggering a fit of gleeful giggles as you are tickled. He overpowers you so easily and you quickly find that he is relentless. It’s a fight, a struggle that turns into several kisses everywhere on your face when he is suddenly on top of you again.

That’s when you hear a knock on the door. You look at each other for a second before Joel shoots up from the couch, already pulling on his boxers and fighting to make his semi-hard cock go down. He points at you, “Stay down. They can’t see you if ya just stay down. Ain’t gonna invite anyone in.”

You make yourself as flat as possible and hear Joel’s sharp intake of breath as he looks through the spy hole.

“‘S your old man,” he says, flinching when there’s another rap on the door.

Your pulse spikes, “Well then don’t act suspicious.”

“Right, didn’t think of that,” he deadpans, quickly flattening the hair that has been yanked by you a few times tonight, “Don’t say a thing, okay?”

Joel opens the door after your dad starts calling for him on the other side. He smiles a little forced at first, “Sorry, was just tryna look presentable.”

“Family’s out, so I thought I’d see if ya wanted to catch a game,” your dad says, and you can hear the smile on his face and him holding up what you assume to be a six-pack.

“Now’s not really a good time,” Joel replies. You dare to look up through your lashes in the front door’s direction. Joel has a hand on the doorframe, barring the door in case your father tries to invite himself in.

“I won’t be here long!”

Joel’s feet shift a little, “Just ain’t a good time, buddy.”

“What does that mean? And why are ya barely dressed—“ there’s a brief pause, then, “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Got someone over? Ya old dog. Damn, look at you. Still got it,” your father’s hand is visible in the doorway. It nudges Joel’s shoulder, “Why didn’t you just say so?”

Because it’s your fucking daughter and it’s the best sex she’s ever had, you think to yourself and consider screaming into the cushions.

“Right,” your dad hands over the sixpack, “You need this more than me. I’m proud of ya, Miller.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Joel rushes to end the conversation, “‘Nother time. I’ll call you.”

They exchange goodbyes. You peek up at Joel when he closes the door, awaiting his next words to figure out how to react. He stays silent though, even as he walks to the couch again.

You bend your knees to let him fall into one of the seats. He runs a hand over his scruff, and you refrain from placing your feet in his lap.

“That was…” He eventually breathes without any tone to his voice, “Somethin’.”

“Good for you for getting laid,” you joke.

He clicks his tongue at you, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” you move to get up from your seat, hold your hand out for him to take, “C’mon. Let’s go shower, wash that guilt off your face.”

“Ain’t guilt, just concern,” he promises as you help him up. He makes a gesture to the both of you, “Could never feel guilty 'bout this.”

“We ain’t talking about that after we almost got busted by my dad,” you repeat his phrase from lunch, mocking his southern drawl.

“I feel like there’s no better time to do it,” he catches on with a smile.

You kiss him, and start to pull him along, “Tomorrow.”

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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marlsswrites · 2 months

Text

Summer camp AU, part 21!!

July 21st <3

Core - @jegulus-microfic - words: 881

First part Previous part

Arms swinging at their sides, pale skin reflecting pale skin and dark raven hair twinning as it fell from both of their heads in perfect curls. Yet one reached his shoulders and the other busy below his ears. The sounds of the wind whipping through the trees surrounded them, leaving them in an blissful silence as it felt like the wind was hissing and whispering at them.

It was early morning, Regulus had decided that he wanted to be productive and go for a walk, before he knew it his tired feet seemed to mindlessly carry him to where his brother was staying, his shaky hand knocking on the door then followed by a creak, the open door revealing Sirius, who's face bloomed with a grin as soon as he saw Regulus.

So here they are now, going for a walk and talking as brothers should, because they really need to do that more. The love between the two Blacks was almost invisible to the naked eye, but Regulus could see it, so could his brother. They both loved hard and soft, in their own ways yet still so caring.

The only other difference between them now was the younger boys scowl and the older boys wary smile as he was clearly waiting to say something that was sure to draw some sort of negative reaction from Regulus.

"Reggie?" His brother asked hesitantly as they nearly came to a stop outside Regulus' cabin, which was out of sight but still only a few doors down.

"Yes, Sirius?" A response came with a sigh. "Spit it out."

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. "What?" He asked, his voice raising an octave.

"You clearly want to say something." He snapped, soon after realising he may have started being a bit too harsh, so his offered the best smile that he could muster - it wasn't a very wide or cheerful one, but it was there.

Sirius' face relaxed slightly, but it still held an unsettling tensity to it that urged Regulus to chew on his nails and nervously bite the skin of his glossy lips. See, he never knew what to expect from Sirius when they spoke, normally they avoided the harsh topics but that was a difficult thing to manage judging on their childhood. But there is one thing that Regulus can think happened, the one thing Sirius interrupted. He's been avoiding his brother ever since, praying he'd just forget or leave it alone, but clearly not. He still doesn't quite know what happened himself, how is he expected to explain it to Sirius?

They continued to walk, Sirius releasing what he had to say in one breath before pursing his lips and looking directly into Regulus' guilt filled eyes. "What happened at the movie night?"

"We watched movies." He replied bluntly

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?" Regulus avoided the question, as that was his only current solution, he didn't want to talk about it, not now, not ever. Especially not with Sirius out of all people.

The older flicked him on the arm, groaning and giving him an eyebrow raise to face Regulus' faux innocent face and his wide eyes as he yelped at the feeling of Sirius' nail hitting his arm with a sting. "Regulus!"

He only hummed in response, gaze sticking to the floor as they rounded the corner and made their way to Regulus' and James' shared cabin.

"I love you to the fucking core of my heart." Sirius started, Regulus scrunching his nose up at the affection but forcing himself to look up at his brother. "But you are so stubborn!"

"I'm not!"

"Fine." Sirius huffed. "Do you like him?"

They walked through the door into the cabin, Sirius still tailing onto him like a dog following it's beloved, fast paced owner, as he kicked his shoes off and instantly sat himself - actually no, launched himself - onto Regulus' once neatly made, uncreased, bed.

Music echoed from the bathroom, loud Arctic Monkeys songs blasted through the door as he could hear the low raspy humming of James as the water poured from the shower and hit the floor, Regulus taking in every single sound as the sound of his brothers horrific singing came into his ears.

"I'm not answering that." Regulus finally replied.

"Regulus, do you like him-"

Seconds later, neither boys seemed to have noticed the lack of the sound of water and booming music coming from the bathroom. The door opened to let heaps of hot, sticky, steam out and James walked out.

The towel was tied sinfully low around his pointed waist, his hip bones stuck out and formed a lovely looking v shape that Regulus wanted to trace with his hands and admire it in all of its beauty. His tan skin had gotten darker during the summer, but with the water dripping from his torso it reflected the bright light that hung over Regulus' head. The smattering of hair ran under his towel made Regulus feel dizzy, the smile on his face when he saw Regulus standing there, hands on his hips and jaw lightly slack as he tried to push some words out of his mouth, made Regulus want to crumble to the wet wooden floor at his feet.

"Never mind." A cough came from the side of him as Sirius narrowed his eyes. "That answers my question." He sighed.

Next part

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pursuitseternal · 9 months

Text

“A Yuletide Miracle:” Spawn!Astarion learns the (nsfw) meaning of the season, finding 🔥heat in the cold❄️

Spawn!Astarion x Reader | E | 3.4K

Part 1: “Yuletide in Faerûn”

Summary: A very “Grinchy,” cantankerous Astarion walks with you home on the eve of Yuletide, loathing the sights of celebration. Little does he know the surprise you have planned to make his heart grow three sizes that night, and well… other part of his undead anatomy…

Slightly inspired by “The Grinch” 🌟

CW: Cranky, festivity-hating Vampire Spawn, a Yuletide surprise that warms his undead heart, and helps him learn the true meaning of the season.

Read on Ao3 | Astarion fic Masterlist

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“I do not get it,” Astarion grumbles as you walk towards your flat in the lower city. Baldur’s Gate, blanketed in snow, crisp and pure and crunching under your boots as you return from your shopping. Night has fallen, the stars are bright. Voices fill the air with music from taverns and the scent of spices wafts on the breezes. It’s beautiful, this time of year. But the enterally handsome Vampire Spawn at your side couldn’t be more glower and glum. “I mean, I have every right to be merry and filled with cheer this time of year. The nights are longer, the days are darkened, it’s a Vampire Spawn’s paradise. But the rest of this… mirth…” he grimaces as you stroll, arm and arm, past a group of carolers serenading outside of the Elfsong. “They have no right or reason to be so chipper in the dark and cold.”

You give him a tug on his arm, a good-humored and disparaging glance from the side of your eye. “Come now, music and parties and warmth and gifts…. It’s Yuletide, my love. Surely even you would love to have people thinking about you and buying you gifts upon gifts?”

He falls silent. Tense. As you make the last turn towards your little home, you walk in the silence. Just a flat, but it’s yours. Yours for the last few months since your victory over the Netherbrain. This little gift from Wyll, new Duke of Baldur’s Gate, it’s your safe haven from the sun while you both settle yourselves to find him a cure… and while you fuck each others brains out like you’re still about to maybe die tomorrow.

Old habits die hard.

But as the winds whip around you, bitter and cold, you hide your frame behind his broad shoulders. He may be chilling to the touch and undead, but at least he can block the ice of winter. And it makes him scoff. “Really? Truly, you use me as a shield? Some partner, some selfless merry cheer you spread.”

You clutch your sack and the precious contents tighter against your body, keeping it warm and safe. “I told you, my little surprise for you can’t freeze. Else, our trip to the shops will all be for naught and you’ll get nothing for Yuletide, my love.”

You draw to a stop, huddled behind his back at your doorstep. You barely hear him mutter to himself over the icy wind and the snap of the key in the lock, “So like every other year…”

Words not meant for you to hear. But they pierce your heart more than the cold and ice.

You pause inside the door, shaking off your cloak from the piles of snow that have accumulated. “Why don’t you start the fire in the study? I’ll be in, just in a moment….”

He turns, leaving his own damp cloak a pile on the ground. Like always. Messy thing. “So you can finish readying your…” he scowls, bitterness behind those crimson eyes, “…surprise? Gods, I hope it’s not some cheesy Yuletide gift.”

“Would it be so unthoughtful of me to give my lover a little something tonight?” You smirk, hiding the little satchel behind your back. “It is the eve of Yule, after all.”

He sniffs in abject derision. “If you insist on wasting our gold on something so frivolous, who am I to stop you.” He closes in on you, making you retreat against the wall of the foyer. “Just don’t expect anything grand in return… well, unless you think what I give you on a nightly basis is grand enough.” He flashes those fangs at you, smirking with all that lust and seduction that makes your legs weak to feel him between your thighs.

You cough, clearing your voice and forcing a pout on your trembling lips. “You could at least put a bow on it?” You tease, making that hungry smirk widen.

“Cliché, but if that’s what gets you going this evening, who am I to judge?” he shrugs slowly, languorously, letting his hand slide from the wall beside your head, the other cupping around your chin to bring you in for a slow and tantalizing kiss.

You hold your breath, trying hard to remember to not drop your precious cargo. He departs, one last suck of your bottom lip between his until it releases with a pop. “Don’t you fret, I’ll get the study nice and warm for you… and your,” a frown turns at the corner of his mouth, “… supposed surprise.”

“Don’t you worry, I won’t overwhelm you with too much joy or peace or love,” you comment, interjecting as he opens his mouth, “and I’ll keep the costumes and singing to a minimum.”

His mouth snaps shut, disgusted beyond measure like he swallowed bile, “Gods… I swear… I am not in the mood… Keep your festivities to a minimum, and as for costumes, I’ll have you naked, preferably…”

He trods into the study. Grumpy, disgruntled. So easy to tease. But you keep it soft. Light hearted. Knowing there was more to his cold and cranky demeanor than just selfishness.

Your mind races… would a spawn of Cazador have even had anything for Yuletide?

You busy yourself, prepping your gift, tenderly setting it on a table. The little plant seems so unassuming, it makes you smile, knowing just what it will mean to him. At least you hope.

He’s been so sour about this time of year, and your heart aches, that one little moment, that clue as to why he might just hate Yuletide.

You ready the bottle from the Apothecary; the shining golden liquid inside warm to the touch as you carry both across the hall and into the study.

He waits, the fire cheerily roaring in the grate, but he stands across the room, in the shadows. His back towards you, you can feel his tension rolling off those bunching and lean muscles as he gazes out the window into the winter night. Arms folded neatly over his chest, you see him shift as he hears you enter, but he doesn’t turn.

You wait. You watch him shifting on his toes, eyes fixed into the dark distance. Until at last he speaks. “When I was… well, before…” he speaks quietly. Pressed. Careful not to mention any names, not that he needs to. “…Yuletide was just another night, another time sent out in our bodies for the bidding, another night spent luring victims, only one that smelled more like oranges and spice and smoke.” His shoulders hunched slightly, arms holding tighter as he hugged himself tighter. “I used to dream of gifts and punch and music. Instead I got only more shame and abuse and… loneliness…”

You move, setting your items down on the small end table before you hurry to his side, your arms wrapping around him tightly.

“Yuletide never came for me. I was always alone… and in darkness…”

“Yuletide doesn’t come in packages and ribbons and songs, Astarion,” you nuzzle your head into his chest. “And now you’ll never be alone again, my love,” you smile into the crushed softness of his doublet. “And… if you let me share my cliché gift with you… you might find yourself not in darkness any longer either…”

He eases in a split second. You look into his face, surprised and hopeful against his better judgment. “Really?” he stumbled on his words. “I -I mean I know about the not-lonely-anymore bit, thank you…”

He hesitates, crimson eyes darting to the corner of his gaze, wanting to see what you got him.

Then he sees it, turning. A little plant, leaves deepest green, a round, fleshy bud nestled in the verdant leaves. “Is that…?” he breathes.

“A Solaris,” you beam at him. “I had to pay that apothecary no small amount of coin to get it… not to mention I had to hustle his chief competitor a bit in order to really seal the deal.” You laugh at the way his face is just… innocent. Hopeful. Happy. “But for a flower that blooms with light and warmth like the sun, one day a year…”

You watch the corner of his mouth grin wistfully.

“…I figured it would make for a very merry Yule. So you could feel the light of the sun without… you know…”

“Roasting like a chestnut on an open fire?”

You giggle against the macabre image. “Yes, that.” You pick up the little vial, its golden glow pulsing. “Here,” you murmur, proffering the small glass bottle. “The key to unlocking your vampire-safe sunlight.” You reach it towards him, his palm opening, fingers unfurling for it.

“I…” he swallows. You watch his Adam's apple bob, emotional as he holds back so many feelings and words. “Thank you,” he finally relents, letting you place the vial in his cold and near-trembling palm. You watch his face, the little lines of his smile deepening as he holds the glass bottle, its warmth seeping into his chilled, undead skin.

“If it’s your first Yuletide gift in two-hundred years, I’m glad I can make it count,” you murmur, trying not to disturb the glow that seems to come from under his pale and lustrous skin.

“You’ve… found your way to… let me feel the sun again,” he smirks at you briefly, “if only for tonight.”

You simper, pouting your lips, catching his eyes with all the allure you can muster. “That’s the idea, my sweet vampire, to give you something because I love you.”

He closes the distance, eager, anxious. But you press the tips of your fingers on his lips. “Ah, ah,” you grin. “Don’t risk that elixir with one of your all-consuming, fang-filled kisses. Why don’t you… open your gift?”

For a moment, he looks nervous. Just the tip of his fang biting into his lower lip as he uncorks the glowing elixir. A slight, sweet scent fills your nose, it makes you thrill.

Almost as much as the childish smile dancing on his lips as he pours it at the base of the massive, rounded yellow bud.

Heat fills the air, a soft shimmering begins to stretch from the plant, until, petal by petal, it opens.

A ball of light perches in its center, pulsing and glowing and lighting up your study more than any fire ever could.

Light in the dark. The sun itself shining.

Astarion’s eyes are wide, his mouth open in shock. “It feels… so good,” he whispers, as if he is scared that the second he looks away, blinks his eyes, or moves it will disappear.

“It does, the sun itself for you to bask in for one day, my love…” you reply, crossing to close your window curtains, to keep the light for yourself. And because, your stomach flutters, you anticipate just what will come next. You turn, already undoing your own buttons of your tunic. Expecting him to already be naked, to be bathing his cold and pale skin in the light.

But he’s not.

He’s sitting on the settee, knees hugged tight into his chest. Just watching. Fixated on the swirling golden blossom on the table before him.

Grinning like a fool.

Still, you tug your shirt from over your head, and the Solaris’ light does warm your skin, feeling no different than the true sun. Slowly, you round to sit beside him, half naked and totally ignored in favor of your gift. But it doesn’t matter. You don’t mind. Not as you hear his little giggles in his throat, the little clenches of his body as he feels… giddy.

You scoot right beside him, the skin of your torso pressing into that linen shirt of his, and you feel him leaning back against you, his head tipping to rest on the top of yours.

His breath washes through your hair, that clean scent on his skin, always the same, always making your body hum with desire and awaken with love. Then you hear it, faintly, he hums a melody, the same carol you had heard outside the tavern. His voice is deep, sweet if imperfect. But it’s music to your ears. His arm reaches around you then, a slight jolt as he realizes he’s touching nothing but skin as he skates his fingers across your back and down your arm.

“Ahem,” he clears his throat, more sultry than surprised. “I do see you are taking full advantage of your own present, darling.”

“Maybe I’m just waiting for my own in exchange,” you simper and pout, your hand reaching to stroke up those sinews of his thigh.

His chuckle tickles the top of your head as he places a kiss there. “Well, if you don’t mind not having it wrapped in frills and ribbons, I suppose I could give it to you now, my love.”

“What need have I for ribbons when I can have you… taking me…. in the sunlight again?”

“Just like old times,” he purrs, a single hand reading around to slip into the band of your sensible breeches for winter. “It always was a pity I never got one last time with you, basking in the heat of your warm flesh and the light of the sun before that blessing of the tadpole disappeared.” He grins, fingers slipping down between your thighs, which you have already conveniently spread for him. “What a gift to share in it again, a true Yuletide miracle, my love.”

That cool touch pierces where you are hot and aching. Where you burn and blister with your own heat. A little moan escapes your lips, your hands shuffling off the thick material of your breeches, words pleading for more from Astarion. You stumble over your “P-please…” as you stand to let that fabric shuffle off your feet.

He’s just watching your writhe on his fingers, bathed in the light. Those crimson eyes unblinking and ravenous. “Feeling merry, are you?” he purrs. “Bursting with joy yet?” His voice is rife with that seduction and wicked bite that makes you instantly wetter.

“A little more effort, and I’m sure I’ll be louder than any of those drunken carolers,” you whimper, the brush of his hand unlacing his breeches presses against your mound and thigh, the pressure of his other fingers deep inside you, more numerous than before in your cunt, guiding you to straddle his lap.

You slide right over, hands braced on his shoulders, gripping into the decadently soft material of his tunic. It’s so calm, so bright, this magical sunlight on your bare back. Your hands ruck up his own shirt, an approving smirk dancing over his breathtaking face as you sweep it off his body in one pull.

The moan from his mouth, hanging slack as he feels the warmth and light on him again, it makes you quiver and thrill. “Gods,” he breathes, “to bask in the light again…” his voice is wet, thick with desire, with emotion. He shuts his eyes, head leaning back against the settee, hands finally tugging his breeches apart to let his cock free. You feel him, his hands lifting it from its confines, fingers silkenly stroking himself. A groan from your mouth, bemoaning that emptiness inside you, your own hand takes up the pressure he started to build.

“Tch,” he sucks his teeth, still reclining to savor the warmth of the light and the heat your folds on his lap, “you don’t lift a finger tonight for your own pleasure, my love.” He pulls your body flush against him, guiding his cock to run back and forth through your hot and dripping seam. Slowly, his hand presses at the top of your hip, letting your sink down just an inch or so over that blunt head. Then he sneaks you up, sliding away from your aching channel. “Perhaps I should have let you undo my laces, unwrap your present, as it were…” he shrugs, centering your body over that cool hard erection. “I can make it up to you in so many ways,” he growls happily into your lips, sucking them in to a long and tender kiss.

Your hands grip into his shoulders, his hold on your waist steadying you as he thrusts upwards. The fullness of him inside you at last, that stretching friction warms you more than the soft flow of light over your back. Eyes closing, you can almost imagine that little glad back in the Emerald Grove. That morning you woke, sore and tingling from the way you had joined for the first time.

That morning light that once warmed your bodies as you took in the sight of him completely, scars and all. That way your heart first went out to him…

But this, this is so much better. Melting as you bask not only in the heat that defies the dark and cold, but that thrumming seer of your love. His hands rock your hips, letting you shimmy and buck as he matches your every movement with those impeccable thrusts. His kiss dances with your lips, tongue taking yours in his hold, tangling and darting as you lose yourself in him.

Warm all over. Loved all over.

You feel his touch wandering, tracing to cup the swell of your ass, fingers gripping into your flesh with each ride you make on him.

And you know he is feeling that light, the same that caresses his face, illuminating those lines and freckles and ridges of cheekbone that steal your breath with their beauty every day. You break from his mouth to watch him, lips still twitching and slack as he pants and groans.

His eyelids lower, that veiled gaze watching the way your body bounces on his lap, his stare darting to watch where you take him all the way in. Where the increasingly wet slaps of your body echo to fill the little study. Where your own body burns like a furnace, fucked hard to scaling hot as your bliss blisters.

Back arching, hands clawing into the cool muscles of his shoulders, you let it all go, letting that heat on your back and the friction of his fucking wash through you, splitting you apart with your climax. His arms embrace you harder as you spasm, your hips rocking at random, your body bracing against his as your pleasure floods you and steals your every conscious thought. His muscles clench, his belly brushing against yours, his thighs beneath you hitching and tight. You feel him pulsing inside you, his voice resonating in one ear with his groans and sighs as he fills you. Your folds drenched with all the hot slick it can handle, pouring and puddling on his lap.

Vision blurring, you come to, bit by bit. Head resting on his shoulder, his own rasping, unsteady breath washing to cool the warm glow over your flesh, you nuzzle tightly against him.

And you realize, for once, his skin feels warm to the touch. Glowing and heated from the light before you and your love-making. The stillness breaks with a gentle sigh from his iron-wrought chest. Air whistles in your ear. “You win, darling,” he whispers as he places a kiss into the tumbled mess of your hair. “Yuletide can be… merry… blissful even,” he acknowledges, not a begrudging hint in his voice.

“Miracles happen, Yuletide magic in the air… I think your heart has grown three sizes tonight…” you giggle, raising your head, your cheeks flushed and body humming to feel him still inside you.

“I doubt it,” he smirks, rakish and mischievous, “but I do know of other bits of my anatomy that have had that benefit…” he grinds into you, dragging that still-throbbing cock of his around your walls. He gives you a rakish flash of his fangs before you swiftly find yourself laid out flat on your back, sprawled across the bed of the settee. The weight of his body crushes you into the soft velvet, and your body grows unbearable… hot, especially as he sucks your ear fully into his hungry mouth. He whispers, “And you say this Solaris blooms for a day… well then, darling.” He gives that wicked giggle, “you are about to have a night that is not so silent… if you know what I mean.”

“I count on it,” you purr back, lost in the brightness in his crimson eyes. “I want the most out of my gift, after all…”

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🕯️I hope I got all the tag requests, thank you all for the love. I can’t wait to see what you think, dear readers 💞

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twoheartedfool · 2 years

Text

Wedding Crasher / Part 2

Jake Seresin x Reader Part 1 I first want to thank everyone for the very kind response to the first part. It really warmed my heart. This is my first time using a tag list before, so if your tag didn’t work or I missed someone please let me know :) @blue-aconite @mightiestheroes @fox-bee926 @olliepig @deskofninak

The lyrics to Cara and Henry’s first dance song were nauseating but it was better than listening to whatever Aaron was going on about. You stopped listening to him since he began. Just like you were forced to walk down the aisle with him, you were forced to join in the first dance song with him. You could already hear future Cara chastising you for the snapshots the photographer must have gotten of you being begrudgingly dragged to the dance floor by Aaron when the DJ announced you. You nodded aimlessly, focusing a little too intently on the whiskey you could feel at the back of your throat. The man usually made you nauseous anyway, so the multiple swigs you took before were not helping.

The hold he had on your waist was a little too tight for your liking, but the first time you squirmed in his arms he liked it too much. He was still talking about boats or something when you turned your gaze to your sister and her new husband. They swayed and smiled at each other, singing along to the romantic country song you weren’t familiar with. For all the things you could complain about, they really did fit very well together.

A sudden breath on your neck made you jerk backward and out of your sweet thoughts. Aaron’s arm tightened even more as he smiled down at you.

“What are you thinking about?”

“About how much time is left in this song,” you grumbled.

On perfect cue, the slow song smoothly transitioned into another. The dance floor started to fill with couples other than the bridal party. Your hand flexed in Aaron’s but he made no movement to let you go.

“Aaron,” you warned. “You got one song for my sister and now it’s done.”

“Come on, baby, one more.”

“Do not-“

“May I?”

Both heads whipped to the new voice. You didn’t even try to hide how glad you were to see your stranger from outside. Eyes soft, he offered his hand to you before his gaze slid over to Aaron. A challenge. You briefly worried that you were just trading one cocky asshole for another.

“Yes,” you blurted before your mind could make up anymore excuses.

Aaron still hadn’t let go, his jaw ticking as he stared at you. Finally, with a scoff, he fucked off and your hand searched for a new one.

It was embarrassing how much your body relaxed against his. He was warm and strong. His large hand encase yours while the other slid around your waist, giving your hip a light squeeze.

“You alright?”

Your dazed eyes looked up at him through your lashes. His mouth quirked up into a small smile.

“Yea,” you breathed. “I’m good.”

With a flourish, your equilibrium flipped as the handsome stranger leaned over you in a dip, his nose mere inches from yours. His breath mixed with yours. Through blinking eyes, you watched a satisfied smirk spread on his lips.

“Good.” He twirled you upright and a spew of giggles left you.

Cara watched over her husband’s shoulder as you laughed and swayed with a man she didn’t recognize. Just a few seconds ago you were dancing with Aaron.

“Who is that?” She muttered.

“What? Who?”

“That guy with (Y/N).”

“Babe, who cares?”

“I care.”

“He’s probably just some bozo from base.”

Cara eyebrows shot up and Henry sighed. “I thought I told you to only invite who we discussed. She should be dancing with one of our guys not some bozo.”

Your handsome stranger spun you around once again as the music picked up slightly. You happily returned to his arms, his hand lacing with yours as he nodded towards the now bickering couple.

“They do that a lot?”

You groan at Cara and Henry’s terse whispers, trying to keep some resemblance of happy, dancing couple.

“A stupid amount.”

“Happy wife, happy life,” he mumbled sarcastically. Your eyes narrowed as a dreadful idea turned your stomach.

“Do you have one of those? A wife? Or someone, I mean?”

“You putting in an application, darling?” He quipped. There was a squeeze on your waist in response to your half-hearted chuckle. “No, I don’t.”

And, God, you prayed he was telling the truth. Your heart believed him gazing into those glistening green eyes. But your heart had lead you astray before. Your fingers subconsciously found their way to the hair at the base of his neck.

“I-“

“Oh my goodness. Was he finally able to make it? Is this the famous Maxwell?”

You blinked blankly at Cheryl. You really needed to figure out who this woman was and how she knew so much about your life.

“Huh?” you replied dumbly. Hearing Max’s name was not something you expected nor looked forward too. Your dance partner must have noticed the change in body language because he readjusted the grip on your waist.

“N-No. He’s-no. Sorry. This is-“

“Jake. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

Jake. Right. Despite how easy you felt around him, you had no idea what is name was. Jake and Cheryl’s pleasantries became a low buzz in your ears as you swallowed. You supposed that Max was the one everyone was expecting you to be dancing with tonight. The taste of whiskey creeped up your throat again.

“I think it’s about time I refill this young lady’s drink. Would you excuse us, please?” Jake gracefully spun you around, his hand hovering over the small of your back.

You leaned against the cocktail table as Jake was talking to the bartender a few feet away. You picked at your nail polish as you eyed him, Maxwell’s face still gnawing at the back of your brain. You tried to subtly roll your shoulders when you felt them tighten. Jake wasn’t Max, that much was clear. He felt different. You felt different around him. But you still felt yourself being dragged into the fog that took you so long to crawl out of.

Jake appeared in front of you, two glasses clinking on the table.

“Now that you know my name, it’s only fair I get to know yours.”

You replied with a light smile, your fidgeting transferring over to your glass.

“And are you from around here, (Y/N)?”

“Actually, can we not do this?”

Behind the confident facade, his eyes fell just enough for you to notice and quickly reach over for his hand wrapped around his beer.

“No, sorry, not this. I’ve just-“ you sighed deeply. “I’m in a really fucking weird part of my life right now and I don’t want to have to think about anymore. All I want is to have a great night with the beautiful, charming guy I met at my sister’s wedding without delving into each other’s back stories. Is that ok with you?”

There was a pause. Jake licked his lips, a playful glint returning to his eyes. He leaned forward and his hand twisted so he took take yours and rest it on the table between you.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

A loud, playful groan escaped you as you threw your head back. When you looked back at Jake, he was raising his glass towards you.

“To no back stories.”

An hour later, Penny sat at her table, Amelia sleepily leaning on her shoulder. Peering over her glass of water, she caught glimpse of you across the room. With flushed cheeks and a sly smile, you trailed the wall and headed towards the door. But you weren’t alone. An arm slung over your shoulder, a young man pressed a kiss to your temple before whispering something to you that made you laugh. You were wrapping your fingers around the lapel of his jacket when the two of you disappeared through the exit.

Penny couldn’t help but chuckle. It was almost absurd how much you resembled a younger version of her.

“What are you laughing at, Mom?”

“Nothing, sweet pea. Hey, how about we say our goodbyes and get out of here?”

#my writing #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader

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pleasantangelpaper · 10 months

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To Run From the Sky (Part 1)

Hi!!! So, this fic is sort of a new thing I'm trying out on my wattpad. It's a William Afton x Reader that is a little angsty! I'm curious to know how tumblr will react to it, so here it is! Feel free to check out my wattpad account if you would like to read there! My user is the same on both platforms! :)

William Afton x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating

Just last month I was swimming in the clear waters of Malibu beach, and now I'm moving back in with my parents in Hurricane, Utah. Where did I go wrong? How could this have happened to me? I remember, but I still don't understand...

The air was cold for California as I navigated alleyways, weaving in between sheds and cars to find my friend and roommate, Bethany, who had invited me to her boyfriend's house party. Upon finally finding the house, by ear rather than eye, as crappy pop blared through the enormous living room sound system, I stumbled up the lawn, trying not to trip over various red solo cups. A few boys stood watch outside the door, joking around, and obviously getting very drunk. Walking past them, I entered the house. Loud music and bright lights flooded my senses, bringing me to a very alert state. "Bethany!" I yelled into the void of party-goers. No response was heard. I journeyed on through the group of people, pushing my way past several drunk guys. I then saw a familiar taller gentleman. "Stu!" I yelled at him. "Oh hey Y/N! Have you seen Bethany anywhere?" the puzzled man questioned. I sighed in discontent, "No, I'm looking for her too,". "Maybe you could go check my room? She might have went in there to sit down for a minute," Stu stated. I nodded my head and walked towards the spiral staircase that adorned his second floor balcony. Stu's house was quite lavish. As I found Stu's room I could hear some strange noises from inside. My brain told me to stay out of it, but my heart feared for Bethany. The door opened, and my throat closed. There was my boyfriend, Billy, and my best friend, Bethany, kissing. My mouth stayed open as tears filled my eyes. "How........ how could you do this to me...... how could either of you do this to me.....". The two struggled to find words as they pulled apart from one another. I stood heartbroken in the doorway. My tears started to drip off of my face, creating a puddle on Stu's floor. "Hey Y/N, was she in th-" Stu began to question before he noticed the tension in the room. "What happened?" he asked, a slight tinge of anger becoming evident in his voice. "Stu, baby, he just started kissing me, and I just couldn't fight back," " Bullshit, you kissed me first" The two argued at each other trying to come up with some sort of story that would get them out of trouble, but it was too late. Stu's eyes welled with tears as he screamed for them to get out of his house. I don't remember much after that. It all feels like a blur. I move out of the shared apartment I had with Bethany, and now I'm here, in Utah.

I set my last box down on the floor of my childhood bedroom. Waves of emotions hit me as I stare at the corkboard full of memories. Memories of Bethany and I before we had moved to California tainted the room. I felt my soul fill with rage. I tore down the pictures with tears in my eyes. As I fell to the ground, a soft knock was heard at my bedroom door. "Come in," I grumbled out to the unknown visitor. "How you doing, honey," my mother gently walked into the room, avoiding the pictures on the ground. I just silently cried as she patted my back. "Y'know, I hate to do this to you, but our neighbors, the Aftons, are coming over for dinner tonight, they've got a lot going on as well, and I wish we could reschedule, but this plan has been going on for some time now... we would love it if you would join us, dear," my mother spoke quietly as if any loud words or sudden movements would cause me to spiral again. I sniffled and wiped my tears with my cardigan sleeve, "Thanks mom, but I would rather finish unpacking first," "That's okay honey, take all the time you need,". And with that, my mother left and closed the door, leaving me to my own devices once again. I began to unpack the boxes around me, sorting what I could into the drawers of my old dresser, and organizing a desk space. I set up some stuffed animals on my bed to make it seem more inviting, and I fluffed the pillows that had gone untouched for some time now.

By the time I was finished, I glanced at the clock on my wall and noticed it was 10 o'clock. "I better get something to eat I guess," I spoke aloud to myself. The hallways were dark as I creeped down the wooden stairs to the kitchen. I noticed the smell of burnt coffee as I walked forward, but thought nothing of it, that is, until I noticed a figure that definitely was not either of my parents. "I just can't get this damn thing to work right," the man proclaimed. His purple button-up sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as he prodded at buttons on the old coffee machine. His glasses were on the tip of his nose as he stuck his tongue out in thought, his brows furrowed in frustration. My cheeks turned a bit rosy as I stared at the attractive man in front of me. I finally put two and two together and noticed this man must be Mr. Afton. "Do you need any help, Mr. Afton?" I sheepishly spoke. The man spun around in surprise, "Oh! You must be Y/N, I had no idea anyone was still up, your parents told me that I could stay over for the night," he got quieter as the sentence went on, clearly embarrassed by needing a place to sleep. "Don't feel ashamed, I'm also freeloading here right now," I half-joked at my predicament. The older man's face softened as he turned his attention back to the old coffee maker. My family had had this coffee maker for as long as I had been alive. I walked over and grabbed the pot as I hit the button to brew. "Yeah... this thing is so old that if the pot isn't sitting in exactly one place it just doesn't go," I sighed at the fact that we were still using this thing. Mr. Afton chuckled at the piece of old tech and ran a hand through his hair. "Wow, that's something," he said in disbelief. Once the pot was done brewing, I pulled down two coffee mugs, one a pale blue with white bunnies dancing across it, and the other a pale yellow with the same design. "Sorry Mr. Afton, I think these bunny mugs are the only ones clean," I laughed a little at the cute designs in contrast to this grown man. "That's fine, I love bunnies," he smirked. "Also, please don't call me Mr. Afton, you'll make me feel older than I already do... call me William," he half-grunted at the statement. I giggled at him as I poured the cheap coffee into the cute bunny mugs, spilling a bit onto the peeling linoleum of the counter. I handed him the yellow mug in silence and took a sip of the warm drink. I noticed William make a face as he drank it. "Nothing like the taste of off-brand coffee made in a cheap old coffee maker, huh?" I joked. "Oh yeah nothing like it," he chuckled back. We stood with small conversation as we finished our drinks. The interaction made me smile, and I felt a bit warmer inside, like I wasn't alone in all of this. As we both finished off the coffee pot, I gently set our mugs in the sink. "Goodnight William," I said, as I walked towards the stairs. "Goodnight Y/N,"

#william afton #william afton x reader #springtrap #springtrap x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #william afton x you #william afton fluff #matthew lillard x reader

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theoceanandthestars · 2 days

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TK's Sponsor

Owen Strand x Reader

A/N: My first time writing for 991 Lone star, apologies for any mistakes and the generally poor quality of writing I'm busy but felt like i needed to write :) Hope you enjoy or at the very least don't hate it. Also any requests from 911 and 911 Lone star are always welcome :)

Word Count: 2.8k

______________________________________________________________

‘Okay everyone, Great job!’ you called as you paused the music playing in the studio, ‘Just sit where you are for a minute, I have a couple of things to tell you before we do our final dance of the day’. Seeing the faces of the 5-year-olds taking your friend’s dance class filled your heart with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a while and you couldn’t help the smile that accompanied it.

You hadn’t danced in any professional capacity for years but since your friend, who normally taught the class, was going on vacation for 4 weeks you’d agreed to take over while she was away. This was only the second week of you teaching and you’d been enjoying it far more than you anticipated and had even begun to consider teaching a dance class in your free time. The building in which your friend taught had multiple studios, so the idea of teaching dance again was currently constantly on your mind.

Currently there was only one other class going on at the same time as this one, the 5 to 10 years ballet class, a class that was hugely popular judging by the sheer volume of pink tutus you had seen skurry into the studio early today. The thought made you smile again, you had been one of those pink tutus years ago, and even if parts of your life hadn’t gone the way you had planned you still had dance and the same studio you had danced in all those years ago. It made the building feel homey.

Looking down at all the excited faces in front of you, you carried on telling the class that in 3 weeks’ time you would have a mini recital to show their teacher what you had been doing while she was on vacation. Which was suddenly met with excited shrieks and all the children jumping up and down and running around in excitement. Once again you allowed yourself to smile at the sight before calling them back to sit down. But before you could stop yourself and the children from laughing, their infectious happiness having spread to you, the smell of smoke hit your nose only seconds before the fire alarm began to blare causing absolute havoc in the studio.

‘Okay everyone!’ you shouted loud enough to gather the attention of all the tiny ears currently in the room, ‘I need you all to listen to me very carefully, you need to all grab each other’s hands and we are going to form a big chain and leave the studio, okay?’

‘No need to panic’ you said as the children held on to each other and you started to briskly walk them from the studio, ‘We’re all here together so everything is fine’.

As soon as you made it to the grassy area outside of the building you began counting the children in front of you and once you had triple checked they were all there you finally let out a breath of relief. Although no flames where currently visible the smoke billowing from the building had already garnered the attention of many passers-by, many of whom were clearly ringing the fire department. You turned to Mrs Jenkins who had been teaching the ballet class and was now just a few feet from you.

‘Do you have everyone?’ you asked her hurriedly as the flames began to become visible. Watching as she scanned her eyes over the sheet in front of her your heart suddenly dropped when her face paled.

‘What? What is it?’ you asked.

‘I forgot, one of the girls, Sophie, oh god she’s only 6, she wanted to go to the bathroom, I forgot to get her. She’s still in there!’, the older ladies voice shook as her panic began to set in.

Before you could question what you were doing or consider the risks, you turned to Mrs Jenkins, pushed the clipboard you had been holding into her hands and told her to watch all the kids. Her face suddenly scrunched in confusion before realisation sunk in, but you had already set of at a sprint back towards the burning building.

The flames had now started to lick at the sides of the studio as smoke billowed around the room. The cracking of the beams sending pain hurtling through your ears while the rooms temperature rapidly rose. Despite the thick clouds of smoke, you continued to climb over the fallen parts of the building, ducking and running through the flames towards the direction of the bathroom.

As you made your way through the crimson rooms, your throat burned as you called for the missing girl, only stopping to cough out the smoke you had been inhaling. Finally, you were almost at the bathroom which the flames of the fire had only started to reach.

‘Sophie!’ you continued to scream her name, your throat burning from mixture of the screams and smoke. Suddenly a large crash shook the building, sending you to the floor as wooden beams sent cinder towards your arm.

‘Ahh’ you hissed in pain before forcing yourself up, the sounds of the flames engulfing the building, crackles and the crumbling of the structure filled your ears. Before you could rip her name out of your mouth again, the sounds of sobs reached your ears and fuelled with adrenaline you made your way into the bathroom.

Suddenly you saw Sophie, crouched under a sink in her little pink tutu, her body shaking with sobs as the flames got closer to her. Frantically searching, you found a fire extinguisher outside the door, making a path to get to Sophie.

Finally, she seemed to realise your shouts and her eyes locked with yours as she shot towards where you stood in the entryway.

______________________________________________________________

The flames began to rise outside the building as the dark grey smoke filled the sky. The children had been gathered around Mrs Jenkins before the 126 had arrived. Immediately, Owen ran towards Mrs Jenkins and the children.

‘My name is Captain Owen Strand I’m with the 126, Is everyone okay here?’ he asked placing his hand on the older lady’s shoulder, but she didn’t respond to him, her gaze fixed on the fire and where you had run into the building with was now.

‘Ma’am?’ he asked finally capturing her attention.

‘She’s still in there!’ Mrs Jenkins exclaimed as her eye movement became rapid and anxiety flared in her chest. Owen took her in as he began to formulate a plan in his head.

‘Who is?’ he began, but before he could ask her the myriad of questions in his mind so that he could plan how to get this person out of the building Mrs Jenkins spoke up again.

‘She ran in there to find one of the girls. She’s been in there too long.’ By now most of the 126 was gathered around their captain, their faces shifting at the realisation that their was two people still in the fire. Owen’s and the rest of the 126’s thoughts were interrupted again, this time by Judd as he shouted that he could see her as he rushed towards the fire.

______________________________________________________________

You and Sophie had made it most of the way out of the studio, her latched onto your back with her hands and legs wrapped tight around you as her tiny body continued to shake as you manoeuvred through the flames and wreckage. Suddenly the door was in sight and the searing pain in your arm while, worsening by the minute, was forgotten.

You knew that any minute the entire building was going to come down as the fire roared, the building shook and cinder and building materials fell around the both of you. Seizing an opportunity as the flames licked up the walls and revealed a path to the door you sprinted to the door of the building.

The sudden force of the cool air sent you into a fit of coughs as you ran from the building behind you. The lights of the fire engines that had arrived lit the street, which was now darkening, and the crowds of people stared at the sight in front of them.

The first thing you saw though was a firefighter rushing towards the pair of you from the direction of where you had left Mrs Jenkins and the children, shouting to people behind him as he pointed at you both. He reached you both and guided you as you all sprinted towards the group of firefighters, who had sprung into action.

The sound of the crowd clapping and cheering didn’t quiet reach your ears as the adrenaline pumped through your veins. Suddenly you stopped as you reached the paramedics and fire captain. Before you could register anything they were saying, you felt the arms around your neck tighten, causing another fit of coarse coughs to expel themselves. As you turned to Sophie who was clinging on as if her life still depended on it, you realised that one of the paramedics, whose badge read Vega had tried to coax her away from you.

‘It’s okay Sophie your safe now, they need to check if you’re okay sweetheart’, for a second she let go, only to move in front of you and cling to you as she sobbed into your top. ‘I promise it’s okay now Sophie, the paramedics have to check to see if you’re okay.’

Still, she clung tighter to you, shaking her head.

‘Will you let me check if you’re okay Sophie?’, to your suggestion Sophies shaking slowed, her grip loosened, and her little head nodded momentarily. As you began to check her breathing the paramedic who had since introduced herself as Captain Vega, looked at you questioningly.

‘Miss, you should really let us do that.’ She stated firmly.

‘It’s okay I’m a doctor’, you quickly stated, ‘I was helping a friend out and teaching her class.’ At this information Captain Vega slowly nodded and began handing you equipment.

After you had checked Sophie over and she appeared fine, you were about to move, when a familiar voice stole your attention away from the now much calmer Sophie.

‘Y/N?’ Recognising the voice immediately you turned around to see TK, but before you could respond the fire captain turned to look at TK as he asked, ‘TK, you know this woman?’

‘Yeah, this is Y/N.’ Tk stated before glancing at you in silent questioning, at your nod in response TK continued, ‘She’s my sponsor, and my friend.’

This gathered the attention of most of the firefighters who had since put out the fire and were gathered around the back of ambulance where you stood. Without warning Tk then lunged at you, wrapping his arms around you, which you returned gripping him as tightly as you could. All of a sudden, however, a sharp pain ran up your arm causing you to flinch at the contact and an involuntary hiss to leave your mouth as well as a mumbled curse.

‘Are you hurt?’ questioned TK, scanning you with his eyes and hovering his hands over your arm as his eyes landed on the burns, that now with the light outside you realised where worse that you had realised. He quickly began to work on the burns. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

‘I’m fine TK, I’ve lived through much worse, besides they’re first-degree burns, maybe second at a push and I’m a doctor I can put a bandage on a burn.’ You tried to reassure him with a smile but he wasn’t putting up with your answer as he pushed your shoulder forcing you to sit on the back of the rig.

‘Really TK, I’m okay, I promise.’ Looking into his eyes you suddenly realised he looked anxious, causing your heart to drop, you knew exactly where he was about to go with this.

‘Your clearly not Y/N, people who are okay don’t run into burning buildings!’

‘That’s ironic coming from you’, you stated as Tk rolled his eyes, ‘but Tk that wasn’t what this was about, I’m clean, I’m sober and I’m happy. Frankly I wasn’t thinking when I ran in’, he scoffed but the anxiety seemed to have started to dissipate, ‘I promise you T, I just couldn’t leave her there.’

Silence lingered as the pair of you maintained eye contact while TK scanned your face for any hint that you might be lying. You had always hated talking about your addiction but after becoming a sponsor to TK when he moved to Austin, that all changed. It was no secret to Tk that you credited him with your ability to now be open about your addiction and removing the shame that had lingered over you for so long. And being only slightly older than him you had become fast friends and now although you talked about your addictions you spent more time hanging out together than anything.

A cough cut into the silence, breaking your eye contact as your eyes met with the captain you had now seen several times since you had escaped from the fire. The eye contact lingered longer that it should have and eventually his eyes drifted to Tk and a look of astonishment fell on his face.

‘You have a sponsor?’, he asked, brows furrowing.

‘Look dad’, TK began, his shoulders visibly tensing, ‘I would have told you but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions or…’ but before he could continue the fire captain who you were now realising was TK’s dad, whom you had heard so much about.

‘You don’t need to explain TK, I’m proud of you’, seeing TK and his dad like this together after hearing so much about him made your heart melt slightly, seeing how far they had come from the stories Tk had told you when you first met. Suddenly, it hit you that TK’s dad was actually in front of you.

‘Wait your Tk’s dad!’ you exclaimed jumping up from where TK had forced you to sit.

‘That’s me’ he chuckled.

‘It’s lovely to meet you Captain Strand’ you said smiling as you offered your hand to him which he took immediately with a smile matching yours.

‘Please, Its Owen.’ he remarked still holding eye contact with you, him smile shifting slightly into somewhat of a smirk. And it was at this point that you couldn’t help but notice just how attractive the fire captain truly was. It was also at this realisation that you realised just how well and truly fucked you were.

‘Well Owen’, you spoke softly as you looked slightly up at him, aware that your hands where still currently attached, ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’ You weren’t sure how long the pair of you held each others gaze without saying anything but it was interrupted by another cough, this time TK was the culprit, causing your hands to move.

Both you and Owen turned expectantly towards him only to be met with a flat, ‘No.’ as he began shaking his head, looking between you and Owen.

‘No what?’ You asked in unison with Owen, eyebrows raised and head tilted slightly to the side. However, his was only met with a pointed look from, which shifted between the two of you.

‘I wasn’t’, you started exasperatedly, but before you could defend yourself and claim that you weren’t flirting with his dad, TK continued.

‘You were!’, and in all fairness you were, or at the very least, you were about to. Glancing up from the ground from your scolding once again your eye caught Owen and his silent laughter only caused you to begin giggling. He then turned his scrutiny towards Owen, ‘That goes for you too.’

But Owen just responded while shrugging, ‘I have no idea what your talking about’.

‘yeah, sure you don’t’, turning to walk away from the two TK was met with the other members of the 126 attempting to hold back their laughter, whose attempts only fell apart under his gaze.

Turning around once he had reached the rest of the 126 he looked at you as you spoke to Owen laughing and standing far too close for TK’s liking.

‘You know they are perfect for each other.’ Stated Marjan, the only one brave enough to break the silence.

‘Marjan has a point, I mean she literally ran into a burning building like some kind of badass superhero’ added Mateo.

‘Which was incredibly reckless’ exasperated TK, ‘come on guys she could have been killed!’

‘Remind you of anyone?’, questioned Judd, causing TK to sigh.

Finally, he conceded, ‘Ok so maybe I’ve thought once or twice that they’re actually very similar.’

‘Only thing she needs to do is now’ concluded Matteo, gathering the attention of the 126, ‘is punch someone and she’ll be exactly like Cap’. Matteo’s statement promptly sending the firefighters into fits of laughter.

#owen strand x reader #owen strand #911 lone star #911 lonestar #marjan marwani #tk strand #paul strickland #judson ryder #judd ryder #tommy vega #mateo chavez #nancy gillian #911 fox #x reader #y/n #owen strand x y/n

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soft-for-them · 2 years

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As warm as a dead man can be - The Captain x male reader

Summary: A small look into the life of you and the Captain.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: One of my favourite gay Ben Willbond characters, which there's a lot of...

It took a few decades to get over your own death, to come to terms with the fact that you’re forever stuck in the same house where you died, giant bleeding gash in your abdomen and outfit never changing.

Though through all it he’s been there.

At first he’d check in on you, minding not to stand too close, his posture stiff but his eyes shaped like hearts. He would watch on as you entertained Kitty, the young woman becoming a sister to you, his heart swelling with pure love he hadn’t felt since Havers, his hands itching to be held.

Then the check ins evolved into him sitting next to you whilst you stared off into space, the early nineties being the hardest for you because the sudden realisation that you’d never age another year age had dawned upon you. He’d sit close, sometime he’d tell a story to quell your nerves, other times he’d allow you to talk about the seventies and the hippy movement, about passed lovers, how for just a moment you felt a part of something bigger. However, one day when the skies cried out heavy thunderous rain, the other ghosts hidden away and quiet, you had flung your arms around him in the tightest hug.

Those hugs became frequent when eyes weren’t watching, your fingers always touching him when you walked passed and you'd always aligning the lapels of his uniform just to be close.

The Captain likes that you’re a very touchy person. Maybe it’s because he can't touch anything else with his hands, that the only thing that he can feel are the cold dead skin of the other ghosts.

The Captain loves to watch you dance with Kitty, the young woman always begging you to teach her disco dance moves, either that or she’s dragging you about the house like a hyper little child pointing at everything like she’s never seen it before. Just imagine the sight, you dressed in your flared jeans, cowboy boots and white shirt (not minding the blood stains) being twirled around by Kitty, your eyes catching the Captain’s with every spin, a giant smile on your face.

You’d get the courage to steal kisses from him years later. The first time it happened it must have been two thousand and four in late afternoon, you both were sitting outside watching the clouds in silence when all the sudden you leaned over, peck him on the cheek followed by fleeing.

The Captain had sat in the same place red faced for a half hour before Fanny came around disturbing the peace.

That very same day the Captain had the courage to ask for another kiss, for he was too shy to do it himself, which you did. Then you did it again. And again, and- well you get the picture.

His hands are as warm as a dead man could be, his fingers intertwined with yours as you relax in a quiet corner of the house. His jacket if off, though he can’t go far without it for it is a part of what he died in. Your hands are warm and so connected to his that they refuse to let go.

Pat would have described your hands like a stubborn knot that could only be untied by the best of knot tiers.

Your face leans on the Captain shoulder, his cheek pressed in the short crop of your hair, the seventies style jostled by the occasional kiss.

The radio plays in the background, radio four playing for it’s the best compromise between your music tastes, the long talking of the presenters lulling in the background almost like the two of you have left Button house and are sat in a nice café or park.

“It’s a nice day today.” you say as your eyes trail to the small window overlooking the large back garden, the radio mixed with the birds songs calming you down from morning filled with disorganised chaos and too many dead bodies.

“It is indeed.” he replies as you nestle into his shoulder some more.

“My Captain how I wish to stay like this forever.” you whisper as you take you other hand and cup his face, your fingers moving across his jaw.

The Captain happily hums almost like a purr, a thing he only really does around you, his body sinking closer to yours.

“Let’s stay here until the sun sets and everyone lays down to sleep.” you carry on.

“I would stay here forever if it was here with you.” Captain whispers, his voice so quiet that you almost miss it.

You smile and snuggle closer, the sun yet to set.

#not proof read #bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts x reader #ghost x reader #the captain #bbc ghosts the captain #the captain x reader #male reader #x male reader

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thewhumpcaretaker · 5 months

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⚜ 𝓑𝓮𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓭 𝓙𝓾𝓭𝓰𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽 - 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒱𝐼𝐼: 𝒞𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝐿𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 ⚜

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ ✧.*★ Thank you again to @evren-sadwrn for the beta read!

TW: addiction, relapse, cyberbullying I guess??

Summary: John and Vincent are falling into a routine. But they've gotten a bit too comfortable, and the Table has a new strategy that could lead to disaster.

Another night at the angel’s bedside.

Vincent didn’t fall asleep for hours. John could tell - he had already grown accustomed to his breathing. He allowed that little sound to transfix him in the darkness, almost inaudible beneath the music, but the loudest thing in the room to him. Measured, alert, changing pace now and then. What could he be thinking of? What memories and sorrows? At the foot of the bed, Dog whimpered in his sleep, dreaming of chasing something. Not long after, the Marquis’ breathing leveled out into softly cresting waves.

And then John had hours and hours to keep the vigil…to obsess, maybe, if he was being honest with himself. Vincent did desire him, in some way. It baffled him. And Vincent needed him in a way that made him sorry the man’s father was already dead. He felt the solid weight of the gun in his hand and knew, with a tiny rush of ecstasy, that he was doing something for Vincent even now. Goodness knows somebody should be doing something for him. John’s heart took up a perch in his throat the entire night, thrilling occasionally.

There was no nightmare this time, at least not that he could tell. Vincent slept through breakfast and John let him. They’d be fine with the food in the fridge. The less they risked going out, the better. And anyway, he needed it. A sliver of sunrise climbed over his pallid face in rosy, golden degrees and it occurred to John that Vincent had not seen sunlight all yesterday, apart from burning some papers outside and a short few minutes spent hiding behind the motel. He would not see sunlight today either.

John had to bring this to an end somehow. If it were himself in danger, he would have already sought half a dozen people’s help. But who would help him help Vincent? Winston? Caine? Sofia? The Director? No. No one. All of them wanted Vincent dead.

He tried. He texted Sofia, “I need a favor,” knowing that she’d be awake on the other side of the world. Her only reply was, “I know what’s going on. Don’t you dare.”

Better not to try the others.

If he could sleep, maybe he could think more clearly. He’d lied - the hour or so was not enough. His eyes were half closing when Vincent’s opened at noon.

“Finally a good rest.” He rolled over and grinned at John, his perfect combover tussled into soft spikes. He seemed to have woken up on the right side of the bed. “This will be the third day I have been with you.”

“Yeah.” John allowed their eyes to linger on each other longer than he should have. “Does that mean something?”

“Oh nothing, it’s just that my chest feels a little better today.” Something about the thought of Vincent feeling better under his care filled John’s body with helium, and it seemed very good that there was a ceiling above him to prevent him from floating straight through the atmosphere.

“I’m glad.” But there was still work to be done. Where he curled around one of the pillows, red had bled through onto the blue and white striped pillowcase. “…We should change the bandages again. Twice a day is good.”

Again, that long look held between them. He could swear Vincent tilted his head down just a fraction, to blink up at him from behind breathtaking eyelashes. “Oui.”

Everything was going to be so damn charged now, wasn’t it. Now that Vincent knew that John was…that he wanted…what did he want again?

He wanted to change his bandages, to make him “feel better” yet again. That much, he knew. They went to the bathroom and John moved very quickly this time. No lingering, and on Vincent’s part, no resisting. But the satisfaction of the act remained palpable.

There was some sense of normalcy forming, a routine. Eating together at the nightstand. Fighting over the remote control. It almost felt like it could last forever. Maybe, just as they had forgotten to keep running, the High Table would forget to chase them.

But they didn’t.

Only a few hours later, John was nodding off in the chair. The weather had turned dreary, and the sound of drumming rain against the window was only further lulling him towards sleep. Vincent tapped him on the shoulder and said, with deliberate casualness, “You can have the bed, if you want. When I’m not using it.”

“…Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, now wipe that look off your face and go to sleep. It’s distracting to watch you nod off and jump awake every couple of minutes.”

So John took the one non-bloodstained pillow and lay down, finally, in the warm nest of blankets that smelled like Vincent. There was a perfection to that mess of a moment. He let himself bask in it, and drifted away.

He should have known that to sleep in earnest was to leave Vincent alone, and that he was not, under any circumstances, ready to be left alone.

When he woke up, the room had darkened except for the fading blue of twilight. And it was far too quiet. “Vincent?”

There was no answer.

He checked the bathroom - no one, but clearly something had happened. There were paper cups and various toiletries thrown to the floor as if a whirlwind had passed through. A jolt of panic sent him straight to the window, checking for cars, but the parking lot held nothing particularly unusual, just the same vehicles that had been coming and going throughout their entire stay. Their own stolen BMW was still parked in its spot, untouched.

A light in the corner of the room caught John’s eye. The Marquis’ phone lay on the carpet with a cracked screen, still functional enough to light up with a notification. John snatched it up, and read what was clearly just one in a long stream of messages. They kept coming. And coming. From multiple numbers, seemingly every High Table member joining in a unanimous barrage.

“You cannot run. You have no one, Vincent. There is no one who cares about you.”

“Do you think John Wick will stand by you? What a laughable idea. He will kill you when this is over. He will kill you and take your place, because you are weak.”

“You can’t do this. You need it.” Need what?

“You were a fucking embarrassment to work with. Droning on and on in that horrible, thick French accent. Your English is terrible, and so is your German.”

“Your estate is being razed, Vinnie boy, with your stash inside it.”

“You’re the worst person I’ve ever met. A strung out serial killer playing emperor. Die.”

“I knew your father. He was a better man than you. Had some sense. If he were alive, he’d snuff you out himself.”

Those manipulative bastards. John felt the metal start to warp in his hand from how tight his grip had become, and stopped just short of crushing Vincent’s business phone into a pile of glass shards and fragmented microchips. He was shaking.

Shit.

A breath raked its way out of his lungs. “Why didn’t you wake me up, why? I could have helped you…” Dog whined at his feet, sensing distress.

Maybe the office, maybe someone saw something, maybe…

In another moment, he was out the door. A brief dash through the rain brought him reeling and dripping up to the front desk.

“Marjorie, could you please tell me - “

“Oh I meant to talk to you, Mr. Williams,” she broke in, calling him by the fake name he’d given that first day. “But you never came to breakfast.”

“I - What?”

“Yes.” She pocketed her bifocals and leaned forward conspiratorially across the counter, even though there was no one else in the lobby. “I wanted to let you know some people came around asking about you and your little friend yesterday. They seemed like bad news, so I sent ‘em on their way. But I thought you’d want to know.”

John’s brain was still racing. “…My little friend?”

“Don’t worry, I saw you sneak him in on the first night. Didn’t have the heart to stop you. The one who’s detoxing?”

Oh.

“No need to look so embarrassed honey, I see this all the time out here. I can spot it a mile away. People come up from Allentown, just looking for an out-of-the-way place. If you two need anything, you just let me know. Poor thing. He looked like a wreck last time I saw him, paranoid as hell, hiding in a bush. Can’t blame him, you know - with folks after him for…well, I won’t make you tell me that. Debts probably, god only knows. But if you need resources, I’ve got pamphlets for just about every rehab in the city, let me grab…”

The blue car. The blue car from last night had been outside.

“Now my sister went to this one back in her day, this tattoo is for her five-year mark, she’s been sober another ten since then, bless her heart.” She shoved a pamphlet into his hand.

“That’s lovely - “

“Well you know, it’s a passion of mine. People don’t understand, good folks get into this mess and can’t get out again. It makes trouble here at the motel sometimes when I let ‘em stay, but you know, I’d rather get a thousand noise disturbances than send somebody away and find out he died in some back alley. Anyway, you see the craziest things when you work with the rehab world, things you’d never believe. You and your friend are hardly the tip of the iceberg. I bet I even met a hitman once.” She finally took a breath, apparently just getting started.

“Marjorie, thank you so much. I need to go.”

“Yep, better ask him who they were, only don’t scare the poor dear. Good luck out there, sorry to keep you.” John was already out the door.

The blue car. The blue car. It was time for the blue car to cease to exist.

It was pulling out of the parking lot by the time he saw it. He switched directions and made a beeline for his own vehicle. On the way, he locked eyes with Vincent.

He was crossing the center of the parking lot, limping, his sopping wet figure blurred by layers of rain. They were maybe ten paces apart. Vincent froze.

John, on the other hand, did not even pause. “VINCENT! Get. Inside. And do not look at your phone, do you hear me? Do not look at your phone. I’m coming back.”

He didn’t wait long enough to see if Vincent obeyed. He was tearing out onto the main road after the person who’d seen the Marquis de Gramont, and fucked up his three day streak.

He held onto that pitifully rain blurred image of the Marquis and let hatred consume him. Hatred for everyone who had preyed on this sad little man, and twisted him up into what he was today. The dealers, his family, the Table. The god damn Table. Don’t touch him. Don’t fucking touch him.

He caught up to the car in minutes and rode its bumper, waiting for the right moment. Forest flashed past in the dusky purples of the fading light, the maples and birches of the Pennsylvania countryside rearing their branches against the wind of the gathering storm. Raindrops fell hard, already littering the road with torn off leaves.

And then the highway opened out onto a riverside cliff, and the gas pedal went to the floor, and his headlights slammed into its tail, the aftershock reverberating backward through his shoulders and through the shattering windshield that showered his face in glass.

He crawled out, tasting blood and airbag smoke, to lean over the mangled guardrail. The blue car smoldered dead on the boulders below, the river flowing through it. The BMW teetered on the ledge until something on its underbelly gave way and it followed after.

Well, that was done.

John tilted back his head into the rain, willing his breathing to return to normal. Lightning flickered over the ravine, smiting some distant sand to glass, and that image burned brilliantly in his mind’s eye: Vincent, blurred and beautiful.

Was he inside? Was he safe? The answer, of course, was sure to be no. John took one more steadying breath and started walking.

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#john wick #john x marquis de gramont #marquis de gramont #john wick fanfic #wickblr #marquis de gramont whumpee #gunshot #angst #emotional whump #hurt/comfort #whump fic #assassin whump #ao3 crosspost #enemies to lovers #// drugs #// relapse #// addiction

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slickchickchocolatier · 1 year

Text

HHP - Chapter 15 part 4 (18+MDNI)

This part is a flashback piece reflecting Heethan's past ;)

The reference i used for "The Ghost and the Darkness" is actually a film based off real life events about two man-eating lions in Africa. Scary i know. But i thought the name was fitting, you'll see why. Also, the reference for the "hau" in regards to Polynesian legends, was based off research of actual mythologies in regards to their tales of spirits and ghosts, but if anyone knows of any mistakes or misunderstandings in regards to how i used the reference, please message me or send me an ask and correct me. I had to do lots of research for this part. Enjoy.

“Heeseung! Come in and clean yourself, dinner is ready.”

The man calls out to his son as he observes the little boy playing outside, admiring the small butterflies that danced around him.

The little boy doesn’t respond, just nods as he slowly makes his way to the door. After dinner, he goes upstairs and changes his clothes, remaining ever so quiet and calm. For a boy his age, Heeseung was always cognizant of his surroundings; observant, creative, and never stressed or cried about anything. His room was filled with lego models, figurines, and stacks of music discs along with an old CD player attached to a pair of headphones. His room was well furnished, clean, and situated in a wide-open space concept, lacking the traditional items that any other seven-year-old boy would have in his room.

There, he secludes himself in a calm manner. His parents and elder sibling never worried, at least not anymore, the boy had always been the type to remain aloof and spoke very few words. He was the type to listen instead, and always included his two cents during a time when he felt it was needed, such as the moment when he found his dear mother crying at the kitchen table, upon finding out that her father had passed away. Heeseung loved and admired his father, yet when it came to his mother, there was a special place in his heart for her. She was the first face he’d laid eyes on when he was born, the first voice he heard screaming into the air when she brought him out into the wide-open world, and the first smile to witness when he was held with the warmth and comfort of her arms.

She was the first….

Upon seeing her cry, at the time, little four-year-old Heeseung merely stepped over to her side and rubbed her back as she sat, leaned over, with her head laying on the table. Turning to look at him, she softens a smile at seeing her little boy comfort her with a soft and calm demeanor, not saying anything, just giving her an adorable smirk as he looks at her with love and sympathy in his eyes. He rubs and pats her, takes her by the hand and holds on to her for a moment or two. Her heart was healing at the sight of her little boy’s affection.

‘My little Heeseung…’

Now that he was seven, his age only enhanced his traits as he became more attentive and knowledgeable in human emotions, reaction, pain and love. He was so very different from all of the kids at his school, even the teachers, who enjoyed having him in their classes, had always preached that Heeseung was far beyond his time and should have been bumped up to the next grade level, which his parents agreed to yet refrained upon hearing his adamant request to remain in his current grade, where his best friend, Jake, shared all of the same classes.

Changing into his pajamas, which featured his favorite characters from Toy Story, he places his headphones on and puts on a song to listen to. Nodding his head to the beat, he smiles.

‘I like this song.’

‘……Me too….’

From afar, it would appear the boy was deep in thought, when unbeknown to everyone that knew hin, he had multiple conversations throughout the day with someone. All internal, yet there was a strong bond that he built since the moment he learned to understand, read, and speak the meaning of words. Since then, a connection was made with someone….someone who had been born the same time as him, and was cradled by his mother’s arms just as he was. Someone who also loved his mother, felt the joy and laughter of her voice as the first, her smile being the first one to set standards of what happiness really was. Someone…who was him yet different.

‘Ethan, what do you want to watch before bed?’

‘Megamind!’

‘Hahahaha.’

As the boy grew, so did his other side….

‘Hey, what do you feel like watching?’

‘Donny Darko.’

‘Why? I don’t like that movie, it’s so dark…’

‘That’s why I like it.’

By the time they turned fifteen, they had already dominated the features of themselves and learned to develop a delicate balance of having two personalities sharing one body. They mastered the effect of Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde.

‘Hey man, what do you want to watch?’

‘Anything that’s psychological or thrilling.’

‘Kay kay, let me look through the channels.’

…………………………………….

“Hey Heeseung! Over here!”

Heeseung turns and watches his best friend, Jake, running over to him. A large smile graces his handsome face as he waves over, breaching near his dear friend.

“Did you get a map of the school? Isn’t this crazy? We’re starting high school in a month!” Jake exclaims.

Being the younger of the two didn’t make a difference regarding the young man’s eagerness for adventure, excitement, and of course experience with girls. Heeseung on the other hand, had absolutely none. Much like when he was a young child, he remained reserved, calm, and composed, therefore he indulged himself in the exact opposite, such as his model figurines, music, or video games.

“Yeah, I’m excited too.” The older boy responded calmly, with an aloof expression on his face.

Once the school year began, the pair was always seen together, although people remarked how odd they would look like as friends, considering the handsome Jake always displayed a neat hairstyle, decent clothes, a wide smile and knew how to flirt with the girls.

Heeseung on the other hand, always wore hand me down clothing from his elder brother, had unkept hair that covered his eyes, and he was so tall that his elder brother’s attire would enhance his lanky and awkward limbs, which did not work in his favor considering when his elder brother was his age, he was of larger stature, yet not as tall as Heeseung.

Wearing assorted rings on his fingers, Heeseung displayed a liking to dark and mythological jewelry pieces with elven features. Along with the rings, he sometimes adorned a bracelet or a pair of wrist bands, yet the most notable of his attire and accessories, were his black, thick framed glasses. It never bothered him with how they made him appear less appealing, especially compared to his younger friend. Despite encompassing the zenith appeal of a nerd boy, or even the school dweeb or loser, no one dared to remark such words in his presence, because even though he may have looked the part, Heeseung’s demeanor and confidence was ever so present. The constant sway of attitude he had as he walked, not caring about the words or whisperings that occurred behind his back, he may have been the loneliest and least experienced when it came to girls, but there was something about his persona that they couldn’t help but notice and admire.

‘I wish they would try and say something to my face.’

‘If they do, I’ll fuck them up. I’ve watched enough dark movies and horror thrillers to build up a twisted side.’

‘Ethan…you ARE twisted.’

‘Yeah well, that’s because you’re not. You’re too soft, without me, these fools would eat you up.’

‘Yeah…okay.’

Apart from having Ethan to boost his confidence when it came to standing his ground and flaring off a nonchalant attitude, he also had Jake.

There wasn’t necessarily a dull moment in his life, he had a variety of conversations with Ethan, would enjoy moments in class with Jake, and had his music and video games. The young man was set. Of course he took notice of some of the girls who would frequent the pathways of the duo as they would always vie for Jake’s attention, some were pretty, some were even sexy, and while he would glance over as they flirted with his best friend, his conversations with Ethan only became more enhanced in discovering his hidden sexual nature.

‘You see that girl?’

‘Yeah?’

‘You think she’s cute?’

‘She’s alright. I like girls with longer hair better.’

‘Yeah, I can agree with that.’

‘But I hate the way they talk and sound. Like they’re trying to hard.’

‘Maybe…I guess I can see that. I don’t think I’d want to deal with the drama that Jake goes through anyhow.’

‘Yeah? I wouldn’t mind it. I’d just put her in her place.’

‘That’s so?’

‘Yeah. What would you do?’

‘Depends how bad it is. If it’s too bad, I’d ditch her. If it’s somewhat doable, I’d probably just makeup with her.’

‘Man, that’s so boring. Gotta add some pain in that ‘makeup’ part.’

Being a young man, when it came to sex, he was no different from his male counterparts, although unlike them, he felt content with the smut themed videos and magazines that he became so familiar with, all due to not knowing what he was missing out on. Perhaps it was the annoyance of how the girls displayed themselves, or how they seemed to lack any sincerity with the way they spoke, the man just couldn’t find himself to become interested to take a step up and interact or build a rapport with his female peers.

The next couple of years, at the beginning of their Junior year, a moment of opportunity presented itself and caused Heeseung…and Ethan to change.

“Heeseung, let’s go to the party tonight, it will be fun. You’ve never went with me and the group, come out with us for once.”

As Jake emphasizes his request to his friend, Heeseung sighs as he looks down at him, noting how much taller he was now that they were a couple years older. He had always towered over his friends, yet it seemed he was nowhere near finished growing as he continued to reach a towering height and was even encouraged to be a part of the basketball team, which he declined as his glasses would have presented a problem while playing, not to mention he had no interest in contact lenses and still refused his parent’s in getting him Lasik surgery, much to their dismay. Instead, he took great joy in dribbling and shooting hoops after school hours by himself. He did enjoy the sport, much to his surprise.

“Yeah sure, I’ll go.” He sighs a smirk at noticing his friend’s eyes lighting up with delight.

“Cool man! I’ll have to introduce you to everyone since it’s your first time going. This is going to be so much fun!”

That night, as Jake took his friend and mingled around, getting his awkward friend to interact with the boys of his soccer team was a bigger chore than he had expected. Yet it wasn’t as much of a headache as it was to get his best friend to gain some interaction with the girls, something that had never happened, and from the looks of it, it wasn’t going to. Heeseung just didn’t enumerate any vibe that was worth their interest.

Though he wasn’t scared of girls, he would peer off the moment a girl came into his presence. He may have been a little shy. All throughout the night, he continued to shift his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose, drink juice out of his cup while the others indulged in alcohol, despite being underage, and awkwardly stood off to Jake’s side while staring at the wall, listening into on the conversations from everyone around him.

Still, his friends all were eager for their elder friend to engage with some of their female peers. Jake, knowing how much of a recluse his friend was, desired nothing more than to have Heeseung come out of his shell. Despite his best efforts, Heeseung was just too stubborn in his manner that he was content with being left alone.

Alone.

Never having any aspirations into building relationships, or even the concept of being married someday or having children, the young man foresaw a future where he would be on his own and follow his career path. There were times where he deeply yearned for the love that he saw between his parents, but ultimately saw that as a spark that would never exist for him, or his friends, considering the amount of drama and heartbreak he witnessed Jake, and the others had went through.

“Man, why did you have to bring ‘Nerd-than’ to the party? He’s so awkward and quiet, he scares the girls.”

“Hey bro just give him a chance, that’s why I brought him. He needs to socialize a bit more, he’s like a brother to me.” Jake responds back.

Outside of their group, a lot of the boys from school watched with a disdainful expression on their faces as they watch the extremely tall and lanky young man standing off to the side of wherever Jake was, with either his back leaned against the wall or leaned over and resting his elbows on the countertop. He looked bored, and uninterested.

The girls all whispered and gossiped, with his unfashionable attire, his messy hair, and large, thick framed glasses, the boy was far from looking desirable, especially when next to his dashing friend. His somewhat shy and quiet personality did not help the matter.

Yet he was a good sport about it. Never once complaining or hissing at anyone, just observant and quiet like he always was and allowing Jake to drag him along to mingle with the party goers.

“Hey, Ethan. You see that girl over there?”

One of the boys exclaims, pointing over to a girl from across the room. She was pretty, skinny, and dressed in high class fashion.

“That’s Trina Meyers. She’s a Senior at our school, she’s dated all the popular guys and has a reputation for not being too picky, despite how’s she’s dressed. Go and talk to her, she’s checked you out a couple of times. I think she might have thing or nerds.”

Leaned over on the countertop, with his hands clasped together as his elbows remained propped, Heeseung doesn’t move right away, he just turned his head and looked over at the girl. Sure enough, she did glance over to him with a sweet smile, occasionally biting her lower lip down, yet he remained still in his spot next to Jake.

Seemingly disinterested, Jake encourages his friend, ultimately agreeing with the boys that he should go talk with the girl.

“Hyung, go on. You should go talk with her, just have a friendly chit-chat.” Jake issues as he pats on the older boy’s back, giving him a small smile as Heeseung adjusted his glasses.

Standing up, revealing the full height of his frame, which happened to be the tallest out of anyone in the party, Heeseung walks over to her.

‘I think we should have stayed in tonight.’

‘…..’

‘Ethan?’

‘Talk to her.

‘You’re excited?’

‘You’re not?’

‘I don’t know…kind of shy I guess.’

‘I’m not…..definitely am not.’

‘Well, you’re not scared of anything Ethan.’

‘……….’

The moment he ended his conversation with his other half, he found himself already squared up to the girl. Right in front of him, she giggles while looking into his eyes through his wide lenses.

“Hi….whats your name?” The girl playfully asks. Regardless that Heeseung was inexperienced, and this was his first time talking to a girl, let alone being this close to one, he could tell that she was the exact opposite by her mannerisms. The girl had obviously slept with enough men to know what she was into by her suggestive gestures as she kept eyeing him up and down, biting her lip, and keeping her mouth open as she flickered her tongue while licking the inside of her cheek.

“….Ethan.”

Apart from Jake and a few other close and personal friends who were all Korean ethnicity like him, he didn’t like anyone else calling him by his birth name. That was something he considered a special privilege that only a selected few have earned to call him by.

“Cute.” The girl remarks, giggling once more.

Looking around with a slight devious expression on her face, she takes a half step forward and grabs his hand. He was so much bigger with his height, his frame, his broad shoulders, and his hands; being that he was only seventeen didn’t mean anything, he went through a growth spurt and started to develop a manly build, that despite his elder brother’s clothing drowning him, once up close, it was evident that the young man carried some muscle.

She begins walking off to the side, dragging him behind by his hand. Confused and puzzled, he looks back at his friends who all either stood with an excited expression on their faces or just laughed. Jake looked almost somewhat concerned, yet he displayed a reassuring smile as he nodded towards his friend.

People issued out harsh stares that fully expressed their judgement on the pair as they made their way upstairs. It was odd to him at first, when he initially questioned at how the girl knew her way around the house, yet he was reminded of her promiscuity after they entered a room, and she sat him down on a lounge chair where her experienced with men came into light as she sat on top of him.

Straddling his lap, she kisses him. He didn’t know quite what to do, this was the first time he’s ever kissed anyone, so he did what any other young man would do in this situation….

“Aren’t you going to kiss me back?” the girl asks, looking at him with a faded smile and a raised eyebrow.

As shameless as he naturally was, Heeseung answered honestly.

“I don’t know how. This is the first time I’ve been kissed.” He answered in a monotone, with an aloof expression on his face. He was not at all surprised, shocked, nor was he smiling.

Scoffing, the girl looked at him and giggled yet again.

“Wow, I know you’re a nerd and all, but…I kind of figured you had done something with all the less than popular girls at our school.”

He didn’t answer or make any remark to her statement. It was quite shallow, and he didn’t care for the tone she had used.

“Well, that’s okay…I don’t mind. I kind of been digging the whole nerd vibe plus…you being a virgin is kind of a plus for me…. I’ve always wanted to see a horny nerd get off the first time.”

Once again, her tone was condescending, and Heeseung responded honestly, in his usual fashion.

“I’m not horny.”

The girl looked at him wide eyed. He wasn’t horny? Even with HER sitting on his lap?

Every guy gets horny for her, why wouldn’t they? She was pretty, skinny, and was dressed cute and sexy, giving off all the hints of what she wanted…yet he wasn’t horny?

Taking slight offense towards his honest remark, the girl rolled her eyes as she grabs on to his shoulders.

“Well…we’ll see about that once we get going.” she was quite irritated.

Yes, she did want to have sex with the prime candidate in front of her, yet, after his brutal remark, she decided to have some fun. With her intentions changing, she figured after getting a few knocks out of him, that it would be sweet revenge to leave him high and dry, as a lesson for offending her.

‘Nobody says that to me.’ She mentally scoffs as she displays a deceiving smile to the boy.

Kissing him, she begins to grind on him, cupping his cheeks as she conducts her movements with her hips.

For the first time, Heeseung felt the sensation of human touch and sexual tension. It started off feeling similar to whenever he got in the mood in the privacy of his own room and took care of himself with his hand, yet this was much more intense as he felt a separate being rubbing him, touching him, and kissing him.

‘This…this feeling.’

‘This is…not like when I….’

‘I can’t….I can’t control it…’

‘I want…I want to….’

Heeseung remarked towards himself, when suddenly Ethan’s voice emerged in his mind.

‘Fuck her.’

‘What?’

‘Ruin her.’

‘What are you saying? Ethan?’

‘I’m saying…lets fuck her brains out. Let’s fuck her hard and give it to her.’

‘I…don’t know if I can…be that rough.’

‘You can…you just don’t know it yet but that’s why you have me. Follow my lead, I’m everything you’re not and I’m about to show you just what I mean, Heeseung.

With both their voices in sync internally, Heeseung and Ethan speak with the sense of lust and sexual tension rising in their body.

‘Can we…?’

‘We can….’

His hands slowly rise, he grips the girl by her hips and begins to motion her movements that made him feel more of her, causing him to reach a peak of excitement in his groin. With all types of thoughts racing through his mind, Heeseung found it hard to focus on what exactly he wanted, he wasn’t sure just how to handle this girl...but the moment that he felt himself faltering, Ethan came out, sharing half of his being with him.

‘Its okay. I know what you want. And I am going to help you get there.’

Feeling the sudden tightness of his grip with his fingers digging into her hips, he shoves his face into the nook of her neck and sucks on her skin before re-engaging with the kiss.

Surprised by his gesture, the girl breaks the kiss slightly, only to issue out a smile of satisfaction.

“Hmm..well that was quick.” She giggles. This was too easy for her. Reaching into the pocket of her skirt, she pulls out a condom.

“Take it out.” She softly remarks, hinting at the boy’s growing hardness beneath his jeans.

Slowly, he looks down and does as she bids, fishing through his jeans and his briefs, he whips out his length, and there the girl, shockingly surprised by how enormously large he was, witnessed his massive girth and size as it remained extended, slightly tapping off of her pelvis and thighs.

“Oh…my God…you’re huge!” she exclaims.

The fluffy haired boy looked up with absolutely no expression on his face. He wasn’t embarrassed nor shocked. He already figured considering whenever he watched adult rated videos, he couldn’t help but noticed that the female leads would always praise their male counterparts for having such big talents yet didn’t seem like they were all that big when he compared sizes to himself. He would always wonder what they’re reaction would be if it was him fucking them versus the male actor in each film.

She slips the condom on him, watching as it barely fit, merely covering only half of his length.

‘Oh this is going to be fun.’ The girl merely mused herself, practically drooling over the sight of a largely endowed nerd boy, taking note that he was the biggest out of all the guys she’s had, to include the entire football team.

As she shifted, she scoots her thong off to the side of her folds, and begins to insert him in, slowly. Slightly wincing, she takes a slight pause as she felt an enormous pressure and stingy pain as she guided him deeper inside.

“God…how big are you?” she remarks as she furrows her brows, her eyes remained winced shut from adjusting to the painful stretch..

He didn’t answer, instead he merely watched as she remained stagnant mid entry. Though it was his first time, there was no question in knowing what to do, natural instincts kicked in as he held on to her waist, and pulled her down, causing the girl to yelp in shock and pain as he slid a few more inches of his muscle inside her, stopping just slightly above the ring of where the condom ended, leaving the raw half of his length out. Regardless, with half of him inside, the girl began to shake in pain and a rush of pleasure that was starting to build up in her gut.

Looking at him, she was caught by surprised at what she saw, his face…he had a devilish smirk and his eyes looked somewhat different. They still had the roundness to their shape, yet there was a slight hint of narrowness to their lining, his brows appeared straighter, and his smirk was issued to her as he bit down on his lip, his eyes widening in a seemingly sinister gaze as he bears his teeth through a maliciously amused expression.

His face was…the same…but also different. It was like he had two different expressions into one.

“I know you’re a loose girl, but you’re clean, right?” he smiles maliciously as he asks in a condescending manner, in which the girl found herself speechless and nodded, not even offended by his question as she was stunned by his change of demeanor.

Overwhelmed with shock at the sight before her, her lips quivered and her eyes widened, with a hint of moisture coating her eyeballs as she felt a slight bit of cold chills traveling throughout her body.

His voice…

His voice was still a deep tone, yet there was something dreadful about it, unlike how he spoke a few seconds ago.

Scoffing at her response, he merely adds on, “Good. Then you can take it all in.” as he spoke, he adjusted her body by pulling her down even further. Feeling his hands pull her down by the waist, fully submerging himself inside her, she yells out from the painful stretch.

“Wa-wait! S-stop!” she issues out.

Whispering out a long-exhaled gasp, he presses his lips on her neck.

‘I’ll kiss her.’

‘I’ll grab her.’

‘I’ll push her.’

‘And I’ll pull her.’

Before she could fully relish the feeling of his hot breath on her skin, she felt her body bouncing up and down by his controlled movements.

He was hard, yet soft.

Fast, yet slow.

Rough, yet gentle.

As each second went by, she felt the sweet and saltiness of his vigor as she succumbs to the sensation of his thrusts, his touch, his kisses, his bites, and his licks. All of which she has felt before from other men, yet, the way he conducted them, the way he just knew what to do and when to do it, it was like…

‘I feel like I’m getting fucked by two different men…all at the same time….oh my God this guy…what is he doing to me? I…I can’t…it feels too good…the way he’s fucking me….it feels…too…good.’

The girl couldn’t help herself. Catching herself screaming out her moans, knowing full well that she should be quieter to avoid everyone downstairs from hearing her, even though the loud music was booming.

She noted how piercing her screams of pleasure were as she was relentlessly forced to bounce at a tremendous pace on the boy’s muscle. The way he would twitch it inside as he re-enters, or how his fingers would dig in when he thrusted out, all the while he would assault her neck and jawline with his mouth. He would go slow and steady, then switch it up to fast and hard.

‘It’s my turn.’

Alternating between the two sides of his being, he unleashes Heaven and Hell as he continued to fuck the girl relentlessly. For him, this was all new, yet he did exactly what his body told him to do. Whatever made him feel good, he did it. Whatever made her scream in pleasure, he did that too. He did everything that heighted her response and made him feel the explosion.

‘Time to switch.’

Fucking, pulsating, twitching, and throbbing, his stamina remained steady as he continued his act, all the while he felt the girl’s body going limp, shaking and quivering at every inch as he felt the lubricating moisture dripping down to the exposed parts of his length.

‘My turn again.’

Pulling, grabbing, pushing, thrusting, and bucking, he penetrates into the deepest part of her as she felt the tug of his grasp on her hair, while his arm wrapped tightly around her waist as he goes in further and further into her, parts of her that have never been touched by any man, yet he was able to reach it…and it felt so damn good, to the point that she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Oh my God….pl-please….oh my God I’m going to cum!!” she screams out in between exhausting and pleasurable gasps.

“Pl-please…cu-cum! Please cum!” she pleads.

Yet, in response, he smirks that same devilish grin as he continued each thrust.

“Nah…we still have a ways to go babe.” His tone was deeper now, it was chilling and though it carried the same softness that was present all throughout the night, there was something eerie about the way it sounded…

‘Did…did he just growl?’

Wide eyed and feeling panicked as the heightened sensation of pleasure builds up, she slams her hands on his chest, digging her fingers into the material of his shirt as she was rendered to the increase tempo of his thrusts. The feeling of being trapped in his grasp as he kept bringing her up and down, there was something so dark, twisted, and sexy about it. Yet he displayed a soft and compassionate side as he sweetly kissed her neck, coating his saliva over every bite as he licked over them, and gently nibbled along her jawline while whispering tender words into her ear.

She couldn’t tell how long she had been getting fucked. He had her reaching a stage of overstimulation as she already came multiple times, yet he still was fucking her with such immense stealth as she felt herself being loosened by his act.

“Pl-please!! Ca-cant take…..anymore!” she gasps out in between moans. Her breath was airless, her voice was lacking any tone as she reached a high pitch in her vocal cord.

‘Hmm…Do-La.’

Remarking the tone of her pitch with his natural born gift, he hardens his thrusts as he found himself becoming close.

‘This is….’

‘Like nothing…’

‘I’ve ever felt…

‘Before….’

‘I wonder…’

‘What this would be like…’

‘If….I was….’

‘With someone….’

In sync, their voices unite as they internally mused the last bit of their thought…

‘I loved...’

As both, Heeseung and his Ethan side became pensive over the sensation of having someone to touch, to hold, to grab, to kiss, to physically please while being pleasured himself, he finally understood the reasoning behind his friends yearning for companionship, such as Jake. For every second he was with this girl, the feeling was great, yet…it would have been greater if it was someone he cared about. Someone who cared about him. Someone that he could protect and love, while also being loved in return.

…………………..

After reaching his orgasm and releasing into the worn condom that barely remained on after the intense nature of his act, he sat still on the chair as he rubbed his hands on the girl’s back.

“Shhhh…” he whispers into her ear as she buries her face into his shoulder, breathing heavily, worn out with her chest heaving deeply trying to recover from the intensity of the multiple orgasms she had just felt.

His glasses were beginning to slide off yet again. All throughout the act, he had to keep pushing them up, which normally wasn’t an inconvenience for him, yet tonight, he found that it was.

‘Maybe Lasik wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all…’

Taking off his glasses, he places them down to the table next to the seat. He couldn’t make out much without them, yet it was refreshing to have them off as he continued to gently pat the worn-out girl who rested her entire limp weight on his frame as he remained composed and resting aback to the seat of the chair.

After a few minutes, she finally was able to regain some composure, raising her head slightly, she was caught off guard by his immediate action of kissing her lips.

‘Stick your tongue in there, Heeseung.’

‘Rub her canines, Ethan.’

‘Flicker it inside her mouth.’

‘Shove it deep into her throat.’

Gasping for air, she pulls back slightly only for him to forcefully bring her back in without so much as giving her a single breath for air. Placing her hands on his chest she pushes herself back and away and took in full deep breaths as she finally was able to replenish the lack of oxygen in her lungs.

Looking down, her hair a mess, her eye makeup staining her face from the tears that emerged out of pure pleasure with a slight bit of pain, her lips began to part as she finally took notice that the boy didn’t have his glasses on. Through the little bit of sweat that dripped from his forehead, at some point he had swooped all his hair off to the side and away from his eyes, revealing a little bit of his forehead exposed, as well as the black peepers that had laid beneath the strands.

She hadn’t noticed considering he had her on cloud nine the entire time, but now that she could see clearly, she found herself blushing. He was so handsome, much more handsome than she would have imagined had she pictured him without his hair covering his eyes, or the thick framed glasses decorating his face.

Gasping out of shock, just slightly, he tilts his head as he furrows his brows in confusion upon hearing her harsh breath escaping her lips, since his vision was somewhat blurred, he couldn’t make out her expression.

“What?”

“N-no…nothing….you just….look so different without your glasses…and your hair…”

Shifting his eyes to the ground, he smirks.

“Is that right?” He remarks in a teasing tone.

“Ye..yeah….you said your name was Ethan…right?”

“Mmhmm…”

“….Ethan……do you want to….do something next Friday night?”

Eventually word caught on about Ethan’s act. Girls were in disbelief, while the boys were both amused and confused at the prospect of Ethan being such a stud when it came to sex.

The entire school had become even more shocked after one week, while being excused and absent, Ethan returned looking like a different man.

He no longer had on the glasses. The weeklong absence was for his recover from Lasik surgery, which he finally agreed to let his parents arrange for him. But there was something else.

He no longer had on his elder brother’s hand me downs. Relying on his friend Jay, who took his fashion sense in a serious manner, he allowed his longtime friend to clean out and replace his entire wardrobe. Still opting for casual attire, Jay kept the honesty of Heeseung’s personality and true nature as he helped pick out a myriad of relaxed outfits, while also blending in some sophisticated pieces of high-end brands.

During one of Jay’s thorough shopping trips, a small tattoo boutique caught Heeseung’s eye. While waiting for his friend to check out, he decides to explore the shop.

Walking in, he was greeted by a Samoan man of very large stature.

“Hi there, what can I help you with?”

Heeseung merely looked around and mentioned that he was just looking as he was waiting for his friend to finish shopping.

“You Korean?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, there’s quite a few Koreans in New Zealand, that’s where I’m from.”

Raising his eyebrows, Heeseung noted the man’s nationality as he mentioned Jake’s place of birth.

“I have a friend who is from Australia, he says there are a lot of Korean’s over there as well.”

“Yeah, you’ll find a good amount of them here and there. Were you born there?”

“Yeah.”

“You plan on going back?”

“Eventually. I got plans after I do college.”

“Ah I see.”

As Heeseung took his time noting all the decorative photos and art of tattoo designs, he noticed a display of jewelry for piercings.

“You have any piercings? Or are those just clip on’s that you have on? ”

“No piercings. My friend got me these and told me to wear them.” Heeseung calmly answers back, noting a pair of fake earrings he wore on his left ear that Jay picked out.

“Would you like to get some?”

Looking up at the large man, Heeseung inquires of his opinion.

“On my ears?”

The man laughed at the vague openness of the young man’s question.

“Well, that would be the most appropriate for you, considering you don’t have any. Unless you had another spot in mind?”

“No…I don’t. Do you suggest both ears?” Heeseung smirks as he inquires.

“I do…because of these.” Bringing out a small wooden box, the man presents a pair of small loop earrings made of silver.

“These are made of Polynesian silver. There aren’t many like them, in fact, these are the only pair I’ve seen.”

“Why would you suggest these then? Aren’t they meaningful and rare?”

“Yeah well…they seem to be fitting for you. “

“For me?”

“Yes. You see, these pieces have a name, one is called The Ghost, and the other, The Darkness.”

“...Interesting. How does that make them fitting for me though?”

“Because I can see something within in you. It’s in my blood, you see, my people believe that the “hau” exists.”

“…Hau?”

“Yes. My people have always believed that humans who have double souls and share one body, exist in this world. Where one soul never forsakes man, and the other soul, the one that can be brought out and appear was the “hau” is the one that never went to continue on in the afterlife.”

Heeseung seemed interested in the man’s storytelling of a body sharing two souls, he questioned whether the man was referring to his Ethan side, seeing as how the meaning of his words was indeed fitting for him.

“There was a legend of a man who had double souls, they called him the Ghost and the Darkness, and they said that he wore earrings just like these, made of Polynesian silver.” The man finished, as he investigated Heeseung’s eyes, looking as if he was wanting to ask him a question.

Heeseung’s eyes shifted to the ground, he didn’t say anything, but it appeared the man was wise and had enough wisdom and foresight to see, what he assumed he was referring to through his story, was his Ethan side being the “hau” soul.

“You saying I have two souls then?”

“That’s exactly what I am saying. You, are The Ghost and the soul that shares your body is The Darkness.”

“How can you tell?”

“Oh…I can see it. I can see a sense of it in your black eyes, it’s faint because you haven’t brought out the “hau” yet, but I can see a glint of him, lurking behind your eyes.” The man pauses for a second, before he continued after taking a steady breath with a look of slight amusement and curiosity in his expression.

“But I’m sure if I asked, you would show me the hau, wouldn’t you?”

Closing his eyes at the man’s words, Heeseung merely stood still as he faintly opened his lids, still eyeing the ground.

“Please, show me The Darkness, now that I’ve already seen the Ghost.”

At the man’s request, Heeseung shifted his gaze and looked at the man straight on, his eyes grew darker and lost all luster, even while standing under the light. The coloration was matte black, and the shape that contained them grew narrower, much darker as if a shadow was casted over his lids. His smirk was less playful, instead, it showered a sense of malevolence and Hell, while his eyes were lined by the darkness of the Devil’s ink.

“Ah, there he is.” The man smiles. “These earrings were meant for you. Come with me.”

Leading Heeseung into the back room, he places on latex gloves and proceeds to pierce each ear. Delicately, he places on the earrings for him, reminding him to swab the area clean daily.

“They’ll probably sting here and there as you swab, but it should be healed in no time.” The man states as Heeseung admires the man’s work through the hand mirror, while displaying half of his Ethan side.

“You learned to develop a balance of your hau?” the man inquires as he notices Heeseung’s traits mixed with his Ethan persona.

“Yeah…I guess you could say that.”

“When did you first noticed the hau within you?”

“For as long as I can remember. I was born this way.”

“You were born with companionship. I wonder….if you’ll ever find someone who will understand both sides of you."

Heeseung placed the mirror down on the table and merely looked down.

"I’ve never cared about that…not until recently.” Heeseung calmly states before he continues after taking a slight pause.

“But now that you’ve mentioned it, I wonder if there is someone out there for me…it’s not like I can hide who I am.” Heeseung stared at the ground, becoming pensive as he finished his words.

“No, you cannot. But I believe that there is someone who will find you, and you will find them, you must be patient. Normally, it takes time for one soul to find someone, I can only imagine it would take twice as long for someone who has two.” The man spoke as he washed his hands and disposed the gloves.

“But in the meantime, let’s give you this.”

Taking a black cap off from hanging on the wall, the man sets it atop Heeseung’s head. It fitted him just nicely.

Gently pressed down on the bill, the man continued.

“To cover the hau, just a little bit so that people don’t stare and raise questions. I’m certain you’ve never told anyone about your double soul?”

Heeseung shook his head. “…No….not even my best friend.”

“Well then take this as a gift, along with the earrings. And carry on swiftly and strongly my friend, for you are the living legend of the tales from my ancestors.”

Heeseung thanked the man and walked out of the shop, adorning the new pair of silver earrings. Meeting up with Jay, he notes how his friend stopped for a moment and stared with wide eyes towards him.

“Hey, I almost didn’t recognize you with the hat on. It looks good on you man, if you grew your hair out just a little more instead of having a fresh cut, I think it look better.” Jay smiled, upon breaching nearer to his taller friend, he stood and paused for a moment after taking notice of the silver pieces that adorned his friend’s ears.

“…Heeseung? You got your ears pierced?” Jay stood as he admired the lustrous shine contained in the small loops of his friend’s new earrings. “These are nice...did you just get them?”

“Yeah, I did. Which…” digging into his pocket, he retrieves the pair of clip-on earrings Jay had given him.

“You can have these back, since I don’t need them anymore.”

Jay smirked as he took the clip-on studs back.

“You know, if I would have known you were bold enough to get piercings, I would have just taken you in the first place. I know a guy, he did mine.”

Heeseung smiled as he looked back at the boutique behind.

“It’s all good. It worked out, got myself a history lesson to go with it.”

#heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #enha x reader #heeseung hard hours #heeseung scenarios #heeseung fanfic #heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enha heeseung #enha drabbles

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talks-with-the-void · 1 month

Text

choking on words - part 1

"a visitor? how unexpected"

putting my feelings into words seems to be simply impossible. I have this burning, gnawing pressure in my chest and nothing I do seems to release it. so I am trying something new, trying to use music as a way to get my words to the other side. this might be incomprehensible in parts, I am just going with the flow, and be as raw as possible. this is a window right into my heart and soul, this is vulnerable. I need to make myself vulnerable.

"reverse the thoughts in my mind and see them chakras inflated. I hope to carry it all in my head, I'm all out to fake it"

who am I? that question stands unanswered, even after years and years of searching. I'm a werewolf, I know what I am, but not who. what does all of this mean? how do my values, morals, experiences, feelings and scars become someone? there's a cold, dead void right where a person should be and I can't seem to fill it. all I pour in falls staright into the abyss. I mean, I logically know I am someone and I can identify my characteristics and all of that, but the void is never satisfied.

"got my prescriptions so vancant, like gone. when I wanna leave praise the sun, when I wanna need patience to cope with the cost - evasion, numb"

I feel like a fraud, an impostor and the deeper I look into myself, the colder I feel. I wonder how it all ties together. the thing is, most of the time I don't even feel bad about feeling void. In a way, I became the void. I am my own emptiness and being a werewolf seems to play into that. I am so heavily tied to anger and rage, hating everything and wanting to run and run forever, leaving things behind I don't even know. I don't know what I'm running from, just that I am, I need to.

"I got replacements in my pack, no love if they don't come back. I see them burning, no passion, just a furnace until they're ash"

we're spiralling around each other, me and the void, me and the monster, gravitating towards the other and in the end ripping each other apart. not able to exist alone, but also not together, and yet, there is only me - I am the monster. I never could relate to those who find silliness and happiness in their nonhumanity. while I am proud and happy to be a werewolf, I do not find happiness as a werewolf. it is a direct manifestation of my trauma, of unresolved and unreleased pain - and so much rage.

"don't wanna see deceit, don't wanna see their seed. proceed, I mean it, they're all waste to me"

being nonhuman is so much more to me than just... being nonhuman. right now, I don't only feel like a werewolf, but I feel dead, eternal, nonexisting and trancending my whole being all at once. it feels like there's an orb of dark energy sitting in my chest, sending waves through me and all matter, making me float and sink to the bottom, making me feel so powerful and like nothing matters, everything and nothing. it's ripping at the edges of my whole being and I can't tell where I begin and end. interestingly, it's not a bad feeling. I just feel incredibly alone. it doesn't feel like anyone, ever will really understand.

"always searching for something I cannot explain. will have you left on the outside - well, I'm not here"

the only thing that seems to be canalizing my raw emotions is music. the feelings some songs give me, if I could make sure someone else would feel exactly the same I do when listening to them, i would know they'd understand me. they'd get it. but I can't be sure of that - and so, I will remain alone. I've always felt alone, deep down. it's just this sinking feeling nobody will ever truly know me, because putting some feelings into words is just impossible - that doesn't mean I am lying to people, there are some very few people in my life who I completely unmask about. but there is this lingering feeling that it is simply impossible to me to truly, fully open myself up.

"I know I'm locked inside, not here. I know I'm locked inside, no glass unbroken, I peer through"

and I honestly think that is a thing which applies to literally everyone, the human language is limited in its capacities - I just wonder why I seem to care so deeply about this fact. explaining myself through nonhumanity is the closest I can get, other nonhumans will always be the ones who understand me best (aside from my boyfriend, the connection I have with him is the best and realest I've ever had with anyone). but still, I can only use words to describe myself, how do you apply something so mundane as words to a conceptual feeling that extends your own mind?

"where's my profit now? with no rear view, all my mistakes go to Medusa. waste away with seasons I'm used to"

the intesting part is, although all of this must seem like a vent, it is not. every time I dig into myself, I get closer to the void, and drift away from myself - dissociation, depersonalisation. but... not really. it's like I said, it's everything and nothing at once. I feel extremely grounded, yet extremely out of it but I love this feeling - and feel nothing about it. the point is, the point I am trying to desperately to make, is that I'm more - more than human, more than a werewolf, more than nothing. but this "more"-feeling can not be described.

"and I'll be swallowing centipedes, just to gather a day. and I can tolerate emptiness, all to tread on new planes"

all of this, all of the above is the reason why I struggle so hard to make posts about my nonhumanity. there is a feeling sitting in my chest and I want to tell other's about it, but when I try to get it out... there are no words. if I make posts, I want to make them meaningful - at least to me, I need to feel like I am actually contributing something, and not just talk about shifts, when they're so daily and... insignificant to me, in the big picture. I want to talk about experiences, true experiences. maybe this technique right here might help, even tho it will all get rambly as hell.

"in my Fountainhead Palace"

#the text in read are the complete lyrics to the song In My Fountainhead Palace by Istasha #no not by me but the artist who happens to share a name with me for Reasons #(maybe I should make a post about how that happened some day)#but yeah I wonder if anyone even understands any word of what I've written #I wonder if anyone cares #but even if not I will just unleash it to the world anyway #otherkin #nonhuman #psychological otherkin #holothere #alterhuman #alterhumanity #nonhumanity

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7grandmel · 8 months

Text

Todays rip: 30/01/2024

Trial of the Heart

Season 3 Featured on: Now That's What I Call Quality!

Ripped by ShonicTH

youtube

In a few posts on here, such as on Medley Rush #7 and Sidelined Symphony, I've brought up and discussed the idea that certain rippers on SiIvaGunner feel immensely recognizable even without knowing the credits of who made what. A big part of SiIvaGunner's appeal from the start was that this mass output of rips of varying quality was pretty secretive about who was behind what, and only the fans who care enough to download the team's album releases (or check the Wiki) would be made aware of the rippers' identities. I'll wholly admit that, despite being a self-proclaimed SiIvaGunner loremaster, it took me until around the middle of Season 4 Episode 1 to actually begin paying proper attention to all of the behind-the-scenes workings. Even whilst I was in the dark in a lot of ways, though, there were a few names I was still keenly aware of through their notoriety and frequent mentions in the YouTube comments. There was channel founder Chaze the Chat, there were the shitpost legends like BotanicSage, Triple-Q and toonlink - and then, there was ShonicTH.

Out of the two dozen or so rippers that have stayed actively participant in SiIvaGunner since the very early days of Season 1, ShonicTH has always stuck out as particularly memorable to me for a lot of ways. While I comment on l4ureleye's stylistic traits as a ripper, or the various ways that Chaze the Chat would sneak his affection for Maroon 5 into half the projects he worked on, ShonicTH's legacy on the channel is comparatively pretty simple. The dude just loves Kingdom Hearts.

From an absolute onslaught of rips in Season 1 that adds The Flintstones or Snow Halation to music all across the Kingdom Hearts franchise, to his literal sole contribution to the channel in Season 7 being a rip of the exact same nature aptly titled Quickly meeting my yearly quota, ShonicTH's presence on the channel has since way back in Season 1 been immensely identifiable as just "the Kingdom Hearts guy". It reminds me of the rippers like Uncle Fill that I discussed in Violet Sky Memories - the ones where you get the feeling that, they enjoyed contributing to SiIvaGunner just to share their love of the game. And at this point, whenever I see anything Kingdom Hearts related on SiIvaGunner, be it individual rips, the Yoko Shimomura tribute album "Il settimo grande padre", seeing videos in SiIvaGunner's "Liked" playlist relating to the games, or whatever else it may be - it feels like its become a community-known truth that it can all be traced back to Kingdom Hearts.

And for a lot of these rips, particularly ones from Season 1, I don't really have much to say, other than that I'm really glad that ShonicTH is still having a great time doing what he loves for the channel. But in his vast resume of contributions, Trial of the Heart really stands out as a symbol of love above the rest - after two years of making edits to Kingdom Hearts music, it's a fully original composition by ShonicTH himself meant to emulate that very sound. And yeah, it definitely succeeds in its mission statement! Trial of the Heart sounds like an authentic battle theme from the series, althewhile sneaking in small, repeating chord progressions that sound suspiciously like the beginning to The Flintstones theme. Its reminiscent to A Battle of Grand Proportions in that sense, I suppose, as an original composition aiming to feel like a sort of battle theme for the SiIvaGunner channel itself - yet Trial of the Heart makes its one reference to the channel somewhat more subtle, and does mainly feel more like ShonicTH just testing himself on if he's able to make a song in the same style as the games he so loves.

For all the years I've followed SiIva, and for having been very much outside the core community for most of those, its always been sort of...reassuring, I suppose, to know that ShonicTH is still part of the team no matter what. Rain or shine, if there's rips to be made, ShonicTH still wants to contribute to show his love for Kingdom Hearts, and its clear to me that he's a dear friend to many on the team.

It is on the other side of your heart that the memory of this place exists. It is your heart that remembers.

#todays siivagunner #season 3 #siivagunner #siiva #ShonicTH #Kingdom Hearts #kh #kh music #kingdom hearts 3 #kh2 #kh1 #kh3 #yoko shimomura

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harryforvogue · 7 months

Text

Part One | Chapter Nine: Another Man

Bellefonte, Pennsylvania

June 1919

Later that night, we depart in the hallway after dinner. Another tense dinner, with no conversation of eye contact between us. It's a good thing the food was good and I was hungry or I would have kicked his shin under the table until it bruised.

I send him off by shooting him a look and he answers by ignoring the look, focusing on entering and locking the door of his room. I stand by as a guard by his door for a moment to be there if he decides to have a change of heart and decide to sleep in my room, but after a minute of silence, I enter my own room and close the door behind me.

I stare at the empty space beside me on the bed, hand outstretched against it. I imagine his body, his warmth, his breath on my neck as I fall asleep.

***

The silence lasts only a few minutes as the door beside mine suddenly creaks open and I hear pacing outside my door. Raising my head, I catch the knock just in time. The knocks are more like thuds, like rocks falling onto the ground. They're fast and loud, no doubt disturbing the rest of the house. Every knock makes me jolt and I feel the pound against my heart like loud music does.

It could be Grace. The knocks sound very frantic so whoever is on the other side must be frightened. Maybe it's Grace who's had a nightmare, looking for comfort.

Padding over to the door, I slowly open it to reveal Harry. The sight is startling. His shirt is drenched with sweat, curls sticking to his forehead, chest heaving as his wild eyes take in my room, stepping into it without asking me. I stand to the side, stunned, letting him pace around like a predator searching for his prey.

"I heard something," he mutters, pale-faced, shakily running a hand through his hair. He finally turns to look at me. "Was there someone here?"

"No," I say, alarmed, heartbeat in my ears. I step forward, holding a hand out. "Harry. It's just me."

"Christ," he whispers, staggering to a stop. He slowly lowers himself to the edge of my mattress, running a hand tiredly over his face. "Annaliese. Who was here? Are you hurt? What are you doing awake?" He suddenly stands up again, reaching for my wrist. A moment passes and then he releases me, sitting back down.

Terrified by his appearance and aware of the weight of his hand lingering on my wrist, I wrap my arms around myself. "It's just me. I was about to fall asleep."

"You were about to fall asleep," he murmurs to himself, rubbing his eyes. "Fuck's sake. I thought you got hurt. I heard some shouting so I thought... fuck's sake."

Unsure why his anger is directed at me, I sit besides him and tentatively place a hand on his shoulder, feeling the sweat under my fingertip. He violently becomes aware of my hand on him because he shifts backwards and shoves my wrist away. The untamed eyes look at me darkly.

Hesitantly, I move back from him. "Sorry."

"Didn't I tell you not to touch me?" he snaps, standing up. "Fuck's sake, Annaliese. How many times have I told you? Do you deliberately choose not to listen to me? Do you want me to be angry at you constantly? I don't fucking understand you."

He's never spoken to me like that. I open my mouth to yell at him back and demand what his problem is, but when I take a step forward, he moves back, eyes filled with something different. It's not anger anymore. Fear.

I pull my hand into my lap. "Sorry. Do you...want some water?"

"No, I don't want any water."

He stands up and begins to pace.

Unsure what to say, I nod and glance away from his unfocused eyes, jaw tight. I move back onto the bed and fold my legs. His eyes follow me. Squirming under his gaze, I try my hardest to find another topic to talk about. The clock is ticking loudly.

A while later, I hear him audibly swallow before he sits back down on my bed besides my legs. He looks at the floor. "I had a nightmare," he tells me quietly. He tucks his curls behind his ears. "Thought it was real and coming from your room. The noise, I mean."

I simply nod, not wanting to inspire another outburst.

Harry sighs, dropping his shoulders. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright." He slides his hand cautiously closer to me, his pale hand against the dark sheets, the moonlight streaming directly onto the mattress as if it's a spotlight and this scene is a vital part from a play that must be scrutinized.

I move away from him before his fingers touch my ankle, causing his hand to stop moving promptly. "I'm alright."

"Okay," he says quietly. He makes no motion to move or depart from my room. I listen to the clock anxiously, hoping he leaves the room soon.

"Please don't cry," he says, glancing at me carefully.

I wipe my face with my sleeve. "I'm not crying. Please go to sleep."

"You want me to leave?" he asks.

"You're scaring me."

I can hear how my words affect him. "I'm scaring you," he repeats, frowning down at his lap. "Annaliese. I just wanted to check if you were alright. I was worried about you. Don't be upset with me."

"I'm not. Please go to sleep."

The bed's balance evens out when he stands up. I wait to hear his footsteps as he leaves the room, but to my horror, I only hear them advance closer to me. He stops in front of me and waits a moment, before muttering, "I'm sorry for scaring you. Could you stop crying?"

I sharply glance up at him. "Harry, it's okay."

His green eyes are clouded, his blinks slow as my words marinate in his head. "I'm apologizing, Annaliese."

"And I'm telling you it's alright." Please leave. Please please leave. "Go to sleep, Harry. I don't want this anymore."

His head snaps up. "Want what? Tell me, I'll fix it."

My eyes begin to sting treacherously. "Harry, please just go."

"I don't want to."

"I don't want you in my room. You won't let me touch you. You'll yell at me if I try to comfort you. I don't know what you want from me, so please, make it easier on both of us. Just go back and try to sleep. Or...or have a warm cup of milk. Or have a snack. Please just..." Leave.

A few seconds later, Harry looks away at the wall behind me and lets the words settle into his head. He nods faintly and then begins to walk to the door.

Before he leaves, he pauses and turns around. "Warm milk will help me?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he says, hand on the door. "I'll do that."

Without another word, he lowers his gaze to the floor and then turns, promptly leaving my room. When he shuts the door, left is just me and that loud clock.

***

The morning is awkward. Harry's avoiding me more than usual, sitting on the other side of the table rather than his usual place across from me. Even Grace feels the tension as she doesn't ask Harry too many questions about why he's so quiet.

I've spent too long thinking about that night. Should I have let him stay? He was hurting, but I turned him away. I shouldn't have done that.

Harry goes back to his room to take a nap. I don't end up saying anything.

***

Stepping outside immediately after breakfast is like a breath of fresh air. In New York, I'd leave the house for mornings only to head to work, but here I am going at my own volition into town. My hat is on my head, my outfit clean, and my head ready to be cleared. I say goodbye to Geraldine and Jared who have just roused, stumbling out of his bedroom, and then head back outside, vowing to return to pick up Grace for lunch.

Instead of wandering straight to town, I take a detour through the hills we all sat at yesterday, and I continue further until I'm by the line of trees that stand guard between this town and the next, more busy rural area. Twigs and sticks snap under my shoes as I duck under the branches of trees and conceal myself from both towns in this no man's land. The ground is soggy and mud sticks to my boots, but the sweet scent of sap and bark allure me and beckon me forward almost as if I'm in a trace. New York doesn't have these types of spots, or if they do, I have yet to discover them. It's a congested place with towering buildings and fast cars, the furthest thing it could be to my homeland. It's times like these where I catch a glimpse of the real countryside that I recall where I'm from and how dearly I miss it sometimes.

Moving to New York was a deal I made with Harry as he decided it was best to run away from his family, specifically his father, thinking an ocean between us would be the most effective way to cut off ties. It hasn't worked that well for us, in terms of staying put. I wonder if we'll have to move again.

I use the line of trees as my defense, letting them protect me as I continue to travel. The ends of my pants are getting wet, causing a cold shiver to run up my spine, but when I catch a glimpse of a small creek, I forget my discomfort and waddle eagerly over to it.

Creeks like these don't exist in New York. I put my purse down, crouch over, and scoop up some water, letting it run out between my fingers. I do it again, tightly closing my fists, watching the water escape through the cracks once more. The water is delightfully cold. I stick my hand in there for a moment to see how long I can last without caving. Only about forty seconds. It's that frigid. The temperature of the water grounds me, and I look back up, appreciating the scenery a bit more, sighing.

My reflection in the water swims in front of me. For the first time since arriving here, I am alone with the company of my own thoughts. As I glance around, I become terribly aware that I'm in a foreign state, in a foreign country away from my own, speaking a language that I've forced myself to learn to become a student in a separate country, and now I'm living with people I've only just met.

I frown deeply at my reflection. Then, I stand back up and continue walking to town, cleaning off my hand.

***

I return to the house to change my clothes and retrieve Grace. Geraldine informs me that the men have gone out for a walk themselves and it's funny that I didn't bump into them. I refrained from telling her that I went through the woods again to avoid people.

As I'm getting ready, I hear my door open, and see Harry enter. Through the mirror, I acknowledge him with a look, and resume brushing my hair gently.

"You didn't tell me where you were going this morning," he says awkwardly, shifting his weight to his other foot as he leans against my bedpost. "You have to tell me."

"And why's that?" I ask.

He frowns, gesturing vaguely with open arms as if it's an obvious answer. "Because I want to know where you are."

"We're in a random state, Harry. Do you think I would run away or something?"

"No," he says. "But just a heads up would be nice."

I put the brush down. "You were asleep."

"Could have woken me up."

"Harry, I'm fine. I'm taking Grace to town and then coming back so you'll know when to expect me."

He steps forward and sits on my bed, leaning in. "This isn't about me controlling you, Annaliese. I just would like to know where you are, for my own sanity."

"Your own sanity," I mutter, standing up, walking to the closest to pick out another shirt and skirt.

"Yes, my own sanity."

I briefly remember how Geraldine had told me that Harry's eyes found safety when I'd come into the room. The look on his face is stern and unmoving, though I can see the cracks in this facade. He's scared.

As the realization dawns on me, I nod. "I will tell you next time."

Harry wipes his hands anxiously on his pants. "Good. Good." He hesitates, opening his mouth to say something, but stopping immediately. He does this a few more times. "We need to talk about last night."

"I don't want to talk about that right now."

"I don't know what you meant," he continues persistently, standing up. He sticks his hands in his pockets, green eyes watching me. "When you said you didn't want this anymore. What did you mean? I don't know what that means, so you're going to have to spell it out for me."

For a second, he looks like the Harry that I married. He looks at me nervously like how he did when he saw me walk down the aisle at our wedding. A man of steel nerves, it's impossible to make Harry nervous, though it seems like he's always on edge these days. He looks younger and less tired, more like a child awaiting praise from his mother or school teacher.

"It means," I find myself saying, aching to reach for him, "that I don't know how to talk to you and it worries me. When you get like that, I want to help you, but it's like you're not even Harry."

"I am Harry. That person is me, Annaliese. I was just scared." He hesitantly puts a hand over mine. It's cold, despite the summer heat.

"I know, but I wanted to help," I admit. "I don't know how to. I know it probably happens more than I realize. Just tell me so this marriage is a little more tolerable. For both of us."

A flicker of hope passes over his face. "This marriage," he repeats. "It still...exists, doesn't it?"

My eyebrows crease with worry. "Of course. What are you saying?"

"You have a choice," he says with a shake of his curly head. "I've been thinking about it, Annaliese. Don't look at me like that. I'm not going to keep you here against your will, though I feel like I'll want to if you ever decide to..." he trails off. "But I won't. If you want it, I'll allow it." His eyes are dark and his upper lip trembles. "I won't like it, but if you want it..."

My fists clench, nails digging into my palms. "God, I want to hit you so bad right now."

He takes a step back, eyes wide. "What?"

"It's nice to see that hasn't changed."

The thought of leaving Harry hits the bottom of my stomach like a stone. Despite my having no option in leaving, it's my love for him that keeps me in his binds as well.

"I don't want to leave you," I tell him, growing angrier. "I just want you to come back to me."

His eyes clear up, though the turmoil on his face stays. "I'm right here, Annaliese," he says tiredly. "I'm standing right in front of you. I'm speaking to you. What more do you want from me? How many times are we going to have this argument? We talked about this in Atlantic City. There are some things I just can't give you, and you have to respect that. I'm giving you what you want. Spending time with you, traveling with you, being your husband."

"You want me," I say slowly, "to be your wife and support you as I watch you hurt yourself."

"I'm not hurting, Annaliese," he sighs, sitting down on my bed again. "Please understand that. I'm not asking you to tend to me like you're my mother or asking for favors. I just want to exist in peace."

"Your mother? Harry, in what way am I asking to be your mother? You know me. You know the kind of wife I am!"

"I do know," Harry says tightly. "I know you always do things your way and I'm telling you I don't want that to change. Please, if you want to, leave me. I won't stop you." He looks to the floor. "If there's someone else you want, or if you want to go back to France. I will let you go. I will pay for it."

When he stops talking, the clock in the room is louder than ever. I am stunned at him voicing his thoughts.

"What? What did you just say?" I whisper in disbelief. "God, Harry, what the hell did you just say? Do you have any idea-!"

"I know what I said. I mean it. I've been thinking about it for some time. I want you to be happy so please consider it." Harry refuses to look at me. "Don't be mad, please."

Leave him? I've never even given thought to having a life without Harry in it. The longer I wait for him to say something, the more I realize I don't want him to say anything else.

"I am going to walk away," I say quietly, "before I say something I regret."

"Annaliese, think about what I'm saying." He grabs my wrist as I'm walking away from him, tugging me back firmly. "Listen to me. I'm serious. I will do it for you."

I want nothing more than to elbow him in the ribs and make him apologize, but I feel my throat closing up.

I force my arm out of his grasp and step away before he can catch me. "Do not," I hiss, "mention this to me ever again or I will make you wish you never said it."

Coming home after work to a man that's not Harry. Holding someone who is not Harry.

"Annaliese... Annaliese! Get back here!" Harry calls after me, but tears have formed in my eyes, not out of sadness, but anger. I'm angry at him for suggesting such a thing.

But as I continue to walk away from him, sadness fills my chest.

I'm a bad wife for walking away from him again, aren't I?

Loving someone who is not Harry.

Fighting with someone who is not Harry.

***

Harry doesn't leave me alone for too long. When I'm in the garden an hour later, Harry's there. He sits next to me and begins talking immediately, without waiting for a response or taking a breath.

"I'm an awful husband, I know. What I said was wrong, and my apology didn't come out right. Last night was completely my fault," he takes a deep breath. "I was scared. And that's not an excuse, but it's all I have for you right now. I didn't mean that I want you to leave. I'm saying that if you're unhappy, I don't want that. I care about you too much to see you have to suffer with me. I just want what's best for you."

The sun is beating down on me. I remove my hat and begin to fan my face."What about us?"

"For us? Annaliese, I don't think you're happy with me."

I don't reply. I don't know what to say to that. How do I tell him that my happiness should not be at the front of his thoughts right now? How do I tell him that I don't know how to help him without seeming like a bad wife myself.

Harry waits a few moments before sighing. "I'm sorry. Please don't be angry."

Before he leaves, I grab his hand and push him back into the grass, glaring at him. I can't help but feel anger more than anything at him. I want to say something to him that will tear him like he tore me.

"I told you not to take your anger out on me again."

He blinks down at our hands. "I won't do it again. But...Annaliese, I can't even begin to explain how much anger I have inside me."

"Then tell me what to change to stop bringing that anger out. What am I doing wrong? Tell me!"

"It's not you! Christ. I've told you that before, haven't I? I wish I could tell you. It's like..." he looks over the hill, searching for words as if he'll find them there. "It's like there's static in my head and it's all I hear all day and it irritates me so I lash out." He squeezes my hand and leans in. "You know I'm not like this. I used to be so good. And this anger I feel isn't at you. It's anger at myself. What I've done."

"You've done nothing wrong," I say firmly. "You have done nothing wrong in your life."

Harry's eyes darken as he shakes his head, looking away. "The things I saw," he says slowly, closing his eyes. "I wouldn't... God, I wouldn't be able to explain the things I've done. It was all survival. Things I've done to people who look like you and me. Who had families. I..." he trails off, taking a sharp breath. "Annaliese, I try so hard, every single day and night to avoid thinking about it. Please, don't make me talk about it. I'll remember and I'll get angry and I'll hurt you. Don't push me."

"So if you won't talk to me, who will you talk to?"

"I don't have to talk to anyone. I will one day forget all that happened. All the pain I've caused." He looks at the sunset. "And then we'll be okay."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "When do you suppose that will be?"

"I don't know, but I hope soon. I'm losing my fucking mind being in this body." His hands begin to tremble. "If you knew what I've done, Annaliese." He glances at me, eyes shimmering, voice breaking off. "You'd pack up and leave. Right now. You'd march into that house, throw my ring away and walk out of my life and you know what I'd do?" He clicks his tongue. "Nothing. I would watch you leave and be envious that you get to leave me and I don't."

"Jesus, Harry."

"Do you understand," he strains, "that you're all I have right now?" He presses a palm to his eye.

"And do you understand that you're all I have? Why are you trying to get rid of me?"

"I'm not!"

"So stop suggesting it, you idiot!"

Harry sighs and watches Grace, who's come outside, for a few seconds, jaw tight and expression unreadable. "I'm trying. I think I just need some space."

"Space," I repeat, plucking some grass. "More space than I've been giving you? How do I know you'll come back to me?"

"I'm your husband. Of course I'd come back."

"Sometimes people don't come back," I say.

Alarmed, he turns to me. "I'm not going to hurt myself. I have that much respect for you."

I glance at him. "And what about for yourself? For your body?"

He gives me a wry look. "Annaliese, I could care less about what happens to this body. The issue isn't that. It's my soul that belongs to you. I'd never do anything to my soul."

"Your soul and your body both belong to me."

Harry's eyes soften the slightest bit. "That's true. I won't hurt either, for your sake."

I rise to my knees. "If you hurt yourself, Styles, I will kill you. If you die on me, I will kill you, do you understand?" I say, holding his collar. "Don't think that I won't."

He watches me, startled, and puts his hands on mine, prying them off his collar. "I won't do anything, for your sake."

"And for yours! How do I know I won't find you...gone...after I've gone out for a drink with my friends?"

Harry smiles for half a second, causing my heart to begin hammering. "Because you'll kill me if I die on you."

"Exactly. And... and I'd bloody miss you."

He doesn't say anything for a minute. He speaks again as if he's telling me a secret, too afraid to say it with his full voice. "I'd miss you too. I miss having you in my bed, in my arms, everywhere. I miss it every second of the day. But I just...can't do that. I thought of you lying with someone like me..."

"A regular man," I argue.

"No," he insists dryly. "I am not any ordinary man. I'm riddled with guilt. I wouldn't let you touch me and be soiled by it."

Grace runs by with some grass in her hand. She waves at us and then heads back to the house. When he leaves, we begin talking again.

I say, "So all this time, it was about you not wanting to ruin me."

He gives me another half smile. "I told you the problem was me. How could I live with myself after ruining such a person? The guilt I'd feel. The anger. I'm afraid I'd hurt you."

"You could never hurt me."

"Annaliese, you don't think I see how badly you're hurting right now? I wish I could do something to help, but it all requires my touch and I can't do that. This trip is supposed to help you as well as help me. I'm trying in that regard but, please, don't push me to do something I'm not comfortable with. I've been hurting you for months. You don't think I realize it? I hear you crying, Annaliese. And while you cry, I just pray that you find comfort in something else besides me."

I freeze, my body suddenly cold and aching. I side eye him, throwing him a warning look. "Don't tell me you're saying what I think you're saying. We just talked about this, you prick! I will claw your eyes out if you say so much as one more word."

He says it anyways. "Another man could make you happier."

Frustrated, I push my palms against his shoulders and shove him into the grass angrily. "You asshole! Don't you ever fucking say that to me again."

He grabs my relentless arms, alarmed. "Stop, Annaliese."

"You say that to me again and I'll remind you who you're married to!"

"Annaliese. Okay. I'm sorry." He's trying to dodge my blows. "Annaliese!"

I break myself from his grasp and stand up, pushing the hair out of my face angrily. "Thin fucking ice, Styles," I growl, taking deep breaths. "You're on thin ice. Now get up, I want to go back inside."

Are these the conversations we're going to have now? I think to myself as we walk back inside, scared. I don't want that.

#this one got a kick to it wtf

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doctorhouse5343 · 6 months

Text

Fields Of Dandelions (Chapter 2)

It was to the sound of Ricardo's croaking mixed with death metal music (it was mostly the 'let it burn' part that terrified him out of his mind) that Dream Endless woke up, scanning his surroundings as he remembered where he was. With a sigh, he rubbed his tired face as he got out of the bed before getting dressed and making his way to the kitchen. "Good morning" The ravenette yawned as he sat down at the table, watching the farmer make a fresh pot of coffee. The dark haired male yawned again with a smile, he really could use a good roast right about now "Something smells delightful, what is it?".

His comment brought a smile to the tattooed farmer, answering him with a happy hum "French toasts, I thought you would like them so I made some but I think that I might have went overboard" He gestured to the sweet breakfast pilled up on a plate with an embarrassed expression as he went on "If you want, there's homemade jams that Hettie made, they are really good".

Dream's eyes light up at the sight of the small jars filled with the sweet, fruity spread. His mouth watered as he inhaled the aroma of one that he opened, eagerly spreading it on the fluffy toast and letting out a delighted sound at the first mouthful. He began to eat with a happy sigh, it had been so long since he tasted something as sweet as this, his reaction brought a smile to Hobo Heart's lips once again as looked on. The sight of the city boy being happy instead of tense like the day before warmed his heart, making it flutter as he began to pour dark coffee in two mugs. The farmer shook his head a bit, he had to focus on making sure that the farm hand was comfortable and felt at home. Now was not the time for butterflies, so it was with that in mind that he gave the other his mug as he spoke "For your tasks I will be there to help you so if there is anything that you are unsure about or if you have questions, just ask and I'll answer". The pretty goth nodded in understanding as he finished his meal, a bit of jam at the corner of his lip. He frowned a bit when he saw the farmer suddenly struggle to hold a laugh in "May I ask what it is that you find so amusing?" He asked, a scowl on his face that didn't fade even as the farmer approached him.

"You have something on your face. Right...here" Hobo Heart murmured in the beautiful man's ear as he wiped off a bit of jam from the corner of Dream's lips, watching the male's face become flush as he sucked the bit of spread off his finger. What really almost made the dark haired beauty grab this skeleton looking farmer by the collar and drag him into a heated kiss was the way that he smirked before saying, in a casual manner "Now I understand why you made those sounds : it's really good". He then sipped his coffee, as if he didn't lit a fire in Dream's heart. The ravenette tried to regain his composure, clearing his throat as he settled his nerves "Thank you for bringing that to my attention, I will be more mindful of it in the future." He said calmly as he watched finish his coffee before prompting "Shall we head out to start our morning, sir?" His question was answered with a brief nod and soon the pair went outside the cozy home to begin the tasks that needed to be done. After Gertrude and the other animals were fed, the farmer cupped his hands around his mouth before yelling out 'Sweetheart!' and smiled as he heard the clatter of a bell, watching Hob run towards them. When the brown haired cow was in front of them, the white haired male was immediately kissed all over, earning a few chuckles out of them and some well deserved pats were given to the very good bovine hybrid.

The trio soon tackled the rest of the tasks as a team : all the wood -cutting was done by the farmer and the firewood was soon carried by the farm-hand his lovely helper and the harvesting of the vegetable patch was done with the help of Mervyn the gardener, who brushed off all of the male's protest "My back's alright kid, there is still plenty of strength in those bones of mine" He grinned, wiping his sweaty brow with an handkerchief while Matthew, the lad who took care of the corn field, snickered behind his back. "You are lucky the boss is here because believe me Matt, I will shove up a corn in ya, where the sun don't shine!" The older man grumbled, chewing on his toothpick as he then chatted with the farm hand "Nice to meet ya, Dream" He shook his hand while looking at Hobo Heart "Hey boss, isn't that Corin fellow planning to come with his Jeep to bring a few stuff to the market?". The frown that appeared on the young farmer's face when the question was asked told the gardener everything he needed to know so it was with a jolly attitude that he said "You can leave the rest of his training to us boss, go and take care of whatever is needed. We got this" Matthew soon chimed in, eager to take a load off the skeleton-looking boy's shoulder. After the pair insisted that everything was good, Hobo Heart went off to go see Corin, already dreading it. When he arrived, the blonde haired gentleman with his signature black round sunglasses (He wanted to break them so badly) was already out of his vehicle..*smiling* at him. The sight made his skin crawl but he did his best to hide it when the guy walked up to hug him as a greeting "Heart, so good to see you again! How's everyone? I bet they're doing well for themselves" He happily chatted away while placing the crates in the back of his Jeep, talking about the weather and such as if life was a breeze

It took every ounce of strength in the farmer's lanky body to not start letting out a death-metal scream that would have made Ricardo go green in envy, luckily the last crate full of cabbages was now in the back of Corin's car, which meant that he was finally going to leave "You know, there's this new restaurant that opened up in town, maybe we can go there when you aren't too busy. As friends of course, don't worry" The blonde smile, not seemingly aware of the glares that Hobo Heart was giving him and it was just as he was about to yell his head off that he heard Mervyn and the others chatting away, getting close to them. "Honestly, good on you kid for refusing to be near a creep like that Rogrick Burgress" The butchering of the name brought a smile to Dream's lips, which soon became wider when, while the gardener was arguing with Matthew over the correct pronunciation, he saw the tattooed farmer look at him with what he assumed was fondness, one that the male standing next to him seemed to have caught on "So this is the farm hand you hired, Heart? I honestly wasn't expecting you to hire a brooding pretty boy but hey, appearances can be deceiving" His tone was light but his face showed a hint of hatred that he tried to mask with a chuckle as he went on "Bet he doesn't mind getting his hands dirty, huh?" Corin then patted Dream on the back, earning himself a scowl and a glare from the brown haired cow standing next to him

"I would appreciate if you would refrain from touching me in this manner, as for if I am or not qualified for this job, it is up to the judgement of Mr. Heart. Not you, good sir" The handsome goth's reply made the blonde scowl a bit before grinning "Wow, you have quite the sharp wit kid but I wouldn't rely on it too much if I were you, Dream : not everyone likes a pretty thing that bites" His tone was less friendly but he still kept the playful grin as his attention shifted towards the cute bovine hybrid, who was still glaring at him "Speaking of things that bite, you really should watch your cow, Heart. Wouldn't want him to get himself hurt or hurt someone else. You might just have to tie him so that he doesn't run away" With that advice, the blonde bad his goodbyes to the farmer, whispering to him that his offer still stood before driving off into town in a cloud of smoke. Everyone was quiet until the farmer went back to the patch with the others in tow, Hob mooing while giving Hobo Heart and Dream affection to make them feel better. While the pale male giggled and gave the brown eyed cutie some well earned pets, the white haired male with the skull tattoo on his face was frowning : something was telling him that it wouldn't be the last time that he would see the man that plagued his existence

#fields of dandelions au #the sandman fanfiction #spooky throuple #dreamling #the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream x hob x hobo heart #farm hand! dream x cow!hob x farmer! hobo heart #cow!hob #cow hob gadling #cw male lactation #cw lactation #cw hybrids #hobo heart #the corinthian

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